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ellecdc · 1 month ago

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hi i’m obsessed with all your work. you’re so talented!!!!! i was wondering if you could write barty crouch jr x reader where they have a fight or he messes up on the day of halloween so she dresses up really slutty for the halloween party to punish him

poor barty - thoughts and prayers, also I made this Potter!reader for no real reason but it felt right

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who forces him to atone for his sins [1.3k words]

CW: sacrilege, blasphemy, dressing provocatively, fighting with your boyfriend

You took a breath (which sounded far more like a huff in your current state) before you knocked (read: banged none too gently) on your friend’s dormitory door.

You heard a murmur and some shuffling before the door propped open, opening further once Dorcas saw who was standing on the other side.

“Hey Potter. Alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Is your girlfriend here?” You forced out as you tried to look over Dorcas’ shoulder, only turning your gaze back to her when she didn’t respond to notice an arched eyebrow as she considered you.

“Hi, Dorcas. How are you?” You groaned.

“Well, thank you. What can I do for you?” She responded primly.

“Is Marlene here?”

“Why yes she is!” A different voice sounded before Marlene - in all of her blonde-hair-with-a-purple-streak glory - stood on her tiptoes to rest her chin on Dorcas’ shoulder. “What can I do for you, gorgeous?”

You took another deep breath - more steadying this time - before you gave Marlene what you hoped to be your most determined expression. “I want you to help me look like a whore tonight.”

Dorcas’ mouth fell open slightly as she brought her hand up in a silent gasp, but Marlene’s face simply broke out into a shit-eating grin as she looked you up and down.

“It would be my pleasure.”

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

That’s how you found yourself a few hours later standing in the middle of the seventh year Gryffindor girls’ dorm as Marlene, Lily, Mary, and Dorcas fussed over you.

“So, what exactly did Junior do for you to do this to him?” Dorcas drawled as she fastened a red velvet choker around your neck.

“How is that even a question, Cas?” Mary asked from in front of you where she was fixing some glitter to various points of your face. “It’s Junior.”

“It’s a man.” Marlene added.

“I’m sure he deserves it.” Lily agreed as she zipped up the red thigh high leather boots on your fishnet stocking clad legs.

“Oh I don’t doubt that he deserves it. This just seems a little extreme for Potter.”

You let out another huff as you smoothed a hand down the front of the bodice of your corset.

“He was supposed to match me tonight.” You sighed, all four girls pausing in their current tasks to look at you. “But he said he, Reg, and Evan had the best idea for a group costume.”

“And you let him?” Marlene asked in disbelief.

“Well what was I supposed to do?! Say no?”

“Yeah!” The four girls chorused.

“No.” You scoffed, your previous determination once again colouring your features. “I shouldn’t have to ask him to do things with me, he should want to do things with me! If he’d rather wear matching costumes with his mates, fine.”

“Bully for him.” Mary murmured as she stepped back to appreciate your form.

“Lucky for the rest of us, though…” Marlene added as she joined Mary; giving you a once over with an expression of hunger she didn’t even bother to hide before shooting you a salacious wink.

“I’d say,” Lily agreed, “you look downright sinful.”

You smirked as you looked at yourself in the mirror, devil horns sitting in your perfectly styled hair that Dorcas did for you, your makeup bold and beautiful and so sparkly thanks to Mary, the red corset cinched perfectly around your waist and accentuating every curve of your body to - as Lily put so eloquently - sinful perfection with a very short ruffled skirt that gave way to fishnets and the red leather thigh high boots that made your legs look as if they went on for days.

“Fuck I look hot.”

Marlene let out a bark of laughter as Mary came up behind you and smoothed her hands over your waist.

“Go give him hell.”

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

“What the fuck, bug?” James squawked as he spotted you in the common room; you and the girls walking in once the party was in full swing.

“Hi James, you look really nice too.” Lily deadpanned when her boyfriend hadn’t even bothered commenting on her costume.

“Lils, you look perfect; hi angel, hi love. I’m sorry. But what the fuck did you do to my sister?”

“How do you know I had anything to do with it?” Lily scoffed.

“Please,” James started, “this is absolutely your handiwork.”

“It is.” Lily agreed quickly, clearly proud of her work.

“Uh oh…” Sirius drawled as he and Remus - dressed as the big bad wolf and little red riding hood - sauntered over as he gave you an appreciative once over. “What’d Junior do now?”

“He better count his blessings…” Remus added with a smirk as he shot you a wink.

“I doubt he has a snowball's chance in hell.” Dorcas snickered.

The conversation was interrupted at the sound of a glass shattering.

“Wha-” Barty started, standing in the middle of the party as people backed away from the shards of what was once a cup that had been in his hand (and any other potential chaos one Barty Crouch Junior might cause) giving him a clear view of you.

“Thoughts and prayers, Junior.” Marlene snickered as she slapped a patronising hand on his back and your friends all dispersed.

“Treasure, I-”

“You’re not allowed to call me that right now.” You muttered as you crossed your arms.

Barty’s face fell somewhere near devastation as he took careful steps towards you.

“Really? It was so important for you to blow me off so you could dress up like a priest?”

He winced as he seemed to fight against the urge to reach a hand out for you. “It…we convinced Evan to dress up as a nun.”

You made an unimpressed hum. “And Regulus?”

“A monk…he even has the funny haircut- you know what, it’s not important, I’m-”

“No, no. Don’t do that.” You cut him off. “It was clearly very important yesterday when you blew off your own girlfriend the day before the party to play dress up with your friends.”

“Treasure-”

“Barty.”

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“I’d say.” Regulus snorted as he walked behind you and very clearly let his eyes trail from the skin of your shoulders down to your legs and back up again. “Merlin, Potter. Or- should I say Jesus Christ.”

You rolled your eyes at Regulus but couldn’t help the smirk that took over your face at his muggle-religion blaspheme.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, really; I…I got too excited yesterday and wasn’t thinking, obviously. I know I wouldn’t have felt very good if you’d done this to me…”

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend who did have the graces to look chagrined.

“I think you’re just saying that because I look hot.”

Barty let out a sigh and tilted his head at you. “You always look hot…though I have to admit this feels a little like torture.”

“That’s too bad,” you huffed, “I was hoping it would feel a lot like torture.”

“Treasure.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Really, I- what can I do? Tell me how I can fix this.”

You kept your arms crossed and refused to look at him.

“Tell me. How can I atone for my sins?” He whispered, swallowing thickly as you watched his Adam's apple disappear behind his clerical collar. “Or will I be forced to live in this purgatory for eternity?”

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth to avoid the smile threatening to take over your face. “You’ll have to repent.” You offered with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Yes.” Barty hissed as he nodded emphatically. “What’s my penance, gorgeous? Tell me.”

And that’s how - in the middle of the Gryffindor common room on this all hallows’ eve - one could find a priest on his knees in worship at the feet of his devil.

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lokisgoodgirl · 6 days ago

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Mine, Utterly [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After making Prince Loki a little jealous, he lays down the law on the eve of an important occasion. (w/c 2.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Minors DNI. Dirty talk, language.

Your hands hit the mattress and grasped at the silken sheets, as if that would save you.

“My Prince,” you gasped, breaths scorching against your lungs as he ripped the chiffon around your thighs.

All you’d done was smile at the guard. Okay, maybe flirt a little…just enough to rouse the jealousy Loki had suggested with a mischievous shine in his eyes before taking his place on the Royal banqueting dais.

A palm landed on your exposed ass cheek. Crying out, you shot a glance over your shoulder. Prince Loki stood, storms in his darkened eyes, the leather belt that had been slung across his chest now dangling from a fist. "You dare to make a god jealous?"

Your stomach dropped. What if it was a test; what if he was joking? But for all his antics, the Prince wasn’t known for his humour when it came to matters of the heart—or the flesh. He didn’t share, and as that thought sank in, the knuckles on the fist whitened. You inhaled sharply, grip tightening on the sheets.

Something struck your ass again, but this time it gripped. Loki’s back was pressed to yours. The emeralds studded into the intricately constructed doublet pinched through the thin fabric of your bodice as he whispered, “Perhaps I wasn’t clear that when you are mine, you are mine; utterly.”

His knuckles trailed down your bicep, those fingers that had been wet with your cum too many times to count in palace corridors and dark corners dancing across your skin. Those digits had fastened around your wrist and torn you away from the feasting hall, his obligations forgotten, and whisked you in an explosion of green light to the candlelit expanse of your own bedroom.

Now, Loki’s cock pressed through the layers of leather and velvet covering it right into the swell of your ass. It was a familiar feeling—but he’d always resisted. Only his fingers, his tongue, his words—that was the only relief he gave you over past months since your arrival at court. Never his pleasure—never his cock.

Norns, how you wanted to fuck him; wanted to ride him until his own name scattered on the wind like ash, feel him slam into your cunt until his brilliant mind was a blur of lines like wine spilled on parchment. You wondered how your name sounded on his lips when he came: staggered, gasping, choking for mercy.

His nose drew a line up your neck, inhaling at the pulse point like a hound. “You are mine, aren’t you?” he murmured.

In answer, your hand slid up his temple and knotted into Loki’s hair. A growl built in his throat, swelling your confidence in time with the heat throbbing between your legs. “No more, and no less, than you are mine, Loki Odinson.”

His teeth sank into your shoulder, just enough to make you squirm against his cock. He spun you around, tipping your over the edge of the mattress while he towered in a silhouette of black and forest green pulsating in amber flickers.

His fingers made quick work of the laces at his groin and then, his legendary, iron cock was in his hand. It was even more perfect that you’d dreamed. A well of saliva rose indelicately beneath your tongue. Loki stroked it, back and forth, as you watched: hypnotised.

“Tonight, I will show you what it is to be mine,” he said, low and thicker than molasses on a winter’s eve. “After that, I’m afraid you will be ruined for all others…” A devilish smirk lit at the corners of his mouth. Your heart pounded as you sat up on the bed, trying frantically to untangle the dress sprawled around your hips. Loki’s knees hit the mattress.

"Allow me," he said, before ripping the dress from your body in one, swift movement.

Your eyes widened as it fluttered to the floor. Only the corset remained. "My Prince…I," you said, attempting to keep the game fluid; but Loki pressed a finger to your lips with a hush. It was still warm from the friction of his cock.

"We have talked long enough, you and I. I would very much like to fuck you…" His eyebrows rose. "I will, fuck you. I will have you; utterly."

As the final syllable melted, so did his clothes. The emerald encrusted doublet was first, then the sigils of his station, then the boots and—oh, gods—the leather trousers.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him: carved like marble, the tremor of his muscle beneath taut skin as he rested back on his heels, thighs spread, enough to make you howl. Loki’s chin dipped to his chest, unbound hair falling around his milky shoulders like hot tar over battlements. His cheekbones flashed in pulsing candlelight as he said with a touch of malice, "I will not be kept waiting. Not anymore," but his eyes glinted.

You crawled the space between you and hoisted onto his lap. With your arms around his neck, your bare cunt pressed against the throb of his flesh, you couldn’t imagine it ever not being thus. And then, you kissed him; one sliding into the next like spring into summer, like night into day.

Loki’s kisses were a medley of ravenous restraint; morphing like his magic between complete desperation and tenderness. His hands cupped your ass, scooting you further up his lap. The tip of his cock rubbed against your slit.

"I want to consume you," he whispered, lips wet from your kisses. "And you will never be anothers."

"Never." A ragged moan ripped the air as you sank onto his length. Loki’s groan of pleasure was everything you’d dreamt of—a primal flash beneath the regal façade you wanted to tear at with your bare hands. His chin tipped back, nailing you with his dilated stare as his hips pushed up.

"Loki," you gasped, clutching at his back muscle. He was huge. The Prince bottomed out, teeth clenching.

"You’ve no idea how much I craved this little cunt," he panted as your hands fisted in his hair. "How many times I’ve wanted to pin you against the wall and fuck you until all thoughts of other men were shaken from your mind forever."

The squelch of your pussy jammed with his cock punctuated every word. "How you’ve teased me, played with me; ruined me—all for the want of the Valhalla I knew would be between your legs."

Loki’s head fell back with broken cry of anguish as you clench around the root of his cock, dragging up before slamming down onto the meat of his thighs.

“Fuck, kvinne…now I find myself tricked…” he said, breathless. The god’s head rose, strands of sex damp hair plastered across his brow. "I want you more than ever."

His eyes narrowed, and then his lips collided to yours, tongue demanding entry with the sureness of a tide on the shore. His nails dug into the curve of your waist, guiding your hips. Every gyration made new sparks burst to life, sizzling from your clit to the deepest parts of your body and mind that had never been so alive.

“I will never be sated,” Loki growled, thrusting faster, “Never…never.” With a rumble, he flipped you onto your back. Loki’s lips worked down the hard sinews of your neck, sucking against supple skin, palming your breasts upward. He was possessed. Loki’s name was a chant in your throat, the absence of his cock inside you becoming unbearable.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Loki looked up from where he’d been distracted with your nipple between his teeth.

“Ruined for all others,” confirmed Loki, smirking. He crawled over your body, settling his legs on either side and drawing the leaking head of himself through your sopping folds. “Beg for it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Beg…my pretty, pretty whore.” Loki’s lips grazed across your cheek like wind through barley; a short, trembling sigh flooding your ear.

“Maybe you’re my whore, Odinson. Did you consider that?”

His thick cock twitched against your heat as he stared down at you with your perfectly styled hair mussed, your thighs spread, your lips bitten and stinging, before he whispered, “I consider everything.” Dark curls hung down either side of his jaw, framing the angle of his jawline as he licked his lips and settled into a cage around your head. The muscles of his forearms twitched with the effort of not fucking you into the mattress. The words bubbled in your throat, spilling forth before you could second guess them. “Well, if you’re my whore, then satisfy me.”

“Tell me you’re mine.” Those words shaped his tongue like summer storms. “And you will have everything you desire; always.”

You scraped hair back from his face, the beat of his heat thumping through his skin. His hips dragged against your clit, making your knees tighten around his ribs. “I’m yours,” you whispered, “Utterly.” Loki’s cock squeezed inside, and his face twisted in relief absolute. One of his hands flew to the ornate headboard; whacks of ancient wood against stone sounding with every thrust. His pubic hair dragged against your swollen clit, moans mingling with the fragrance of sweat and sex that clung to your bodies and rose like steam.

The god knew your body like you thought only you did, and every grip of his hands, shift of his hips, work of his mouth—you couldn’t catch your breath. His lust was the chop of waves, drowning you on the undertow of his strength, and scent and the hair brushing your lips as he fucked you. You never had a chance. Need scorched up your skin as climax broke. It flooded through your body, Loki’s name a rattle in your throat as his exhales of pleasure pounded in your ear. He hissed as fingernails dragged down the wide expanse of his back, the slide of his cock primal and wet, balls smacking against cum-slick skin.

The prince’s thrusts slowed, rocking you through the final threads of orgasm stringing you together. You gaped at him, heavy eyed and open mouthed as his torso rose between your legs, his palms splayed on your thighs, his abdomen flexing with every glacial, devastating thrust.

Loki’s head fell back, his black curls a sheet down the faint flush of pale skin.

The veins in his neck hardened, jaw clenched to the ceiling as deep lines settled on his brow. Your breath hitched.

Every glide of his cock was met by the gluttonous squelch of your cum. Loki rocked on his heels, guiding himself over the edge inside your perfect cunt.

“Gods,” he choked to the murals above the bed. And then, he came.

His face screwed up as the wave hit was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Loki’s groan trembled through your skin, beneath your flesh and vibrating your bones. His fingers tightened, and you knew that tomorrow your gown would hide the evidence of obsession marked in blue and purple shadows of devotion.

Devotion, you thought lazily as he gasped out the syllabled of your name and collapsed on your chest; meeting your lips with open mouthed enthusiasm.

Somewhere, a bell tolled. Loki sighed, slipping himself out of you with a mutter of irritation. He clicked his fingers, and the elaborate garb assembled on him like a blossom of ink. His lip curled. “The next time I see you, it will be in white.”

“Mmm…” “And yet they will have no clue what a fantastically depraved wretch for me that my intended is.” “I think they might know that already if the maids who caught you pleasuring me in the kitchens last week weren’t mute—and besides, perhaps they’ll just think my intended is a bad influence.”

“Gods, I hope so,” Loki murmured against your skin before biting your cheek softly, melting into a kiss. “Until tomorrow, then.” Loki drew away, his eyes serious but a small smile playing at his lips. “When you’re my wife, you shall never be rid of me.” “Gods, I hope so,” you echoed, and in the space of a heartbeat, Loki vanished.

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spencereidluver · 4 months ago

Text

O is for On You

READ PART 1 HERE

january 01, 2009

summary: You and Spencer celebrate your first new years together with the girls at Penelope's apartment, then go back to his to celebrate alone.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: honestly, this is just smut. sub!spence, reader is pretty bold, Spencer does in fact have a praise kink. unprotected sex (don’t try this at home) creampie (leave that to lil debbie) oral, spencer eats reader out after he yk in the yk (baby boy is freaky)

warnings: smut. sub!spence, reader is pretty bold, Spencer does in fact have a praise kink. unprotected sex (don’t try this at home) creampie (leave that to lil debbie) oral, spencer eats reader out after he yk in the yk (baby boy is freaky)

Spencer had no more than entered his apartment before his lips were back onto yours. His movements were rushed and desperate, unable to wait any longer. “Y/n,” he says, voice rushed and crackly, “I- I need you.” He’s begging, it’s undeniable.

You softly shush him, before you whisper a quiet, “I know.” His knees are weak, his stance wobbly as he hovers his lips just off yours. You grab his waist gently, beginning to pull him with you as you walk backwards into his bedroom.

As soon as he’s passed the doorway he begins shedding his clothes. He loosens his tie, pulls it over his head, and drops it to the floor, a difference from his typical neatness. He kicks off his shoes as his fingers work at the buttons of his shirt but are interrupted by yours. You take over for him, finishing the final few buttons. He shrugs the shirt off and it joins in the pile of clothing on the ground.

You inch your body closer to his, hands cupping his face as you smile up at him. His gaze was tender, a look mixed with admiration and a tinge of longing. “Wanna untie my corset?” you ask.

He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing before he uses his hands on your waist to turn you around. He slowly pulls at the string draping from the bow on the back of your corset he’d fastened for you earlier. His fingers tremble, but his touch is still delicate. Each loosening of the strings puts ease on your breath and comfort in your stance.

He pauses as he reaches the final cross section of ribbon, fingers lingering on the fabric. He leans down close to you, softly brushing his lips against your shoulder. Though light, the intimate contact is enough to send a shiver down your spine. He finally unhooks the last section and pulls the now-loosened fabric off over your head. One hand meets your waist as he steps back to gaze at your unconstricted figure. His breath hitches in his throat as he tries to speak.

“Y-y/n,” he stutters your name, “c-can I ask you something?” His fingers dig into your waist.

“Of course, baby,” you say as you slowly inch closer to him.

He pulls you in the rest of the way, his body pressing into yours so desperately. He toys with the fabric of your dress. “Can you um…” his eyes search yours while a shy giggle escapes his lips. “Can you maybe keep the dress on while we…” He looks down at his feet embarrassed.

You smile at him. “You want to fuck me in the dress, Spencer?” You ask him despite knowing that is what he was attempting to ask.

“Y-Yeah,” he grips tightly on your waist, almost mimicking the feeling from the corset, “if that’s alright w-with you. It just looks so pretty on you.” He tilts his head back to get a look at you.

You can’t stop smiling at him. Bringing your arms up from your side to his hips, you push him onto the edge of the bed. He sits, looking up at you as you practically launch yourself onto him. He lets out a surprised sound, not expecting to have been pounced on. You straddle his waist, grinding your hips so slightly against him. He moans loudly into your mouth at the friction and pushes you down onto him.

“G-god Y/n,” he whines into your mouth. He pushes you impossibly closer into him, his hardness pressing firmly between your thighs under your dress. His kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, nuzzling his nose into your collarbone. “P-please.”

You tangle your fingers into the back of his hair. “Please what, baby?” You whisper.

“I can’t wait. I need you.”

You grind your hips down into him, using your soft grip on his hair to pull his head to face you. His mouth is agape as he looks up at you, eyes filled with a drunken mixture of love and lust. He’s not drunk, but there's not a thought in his head aside from you. If anything, he’s drunk on you.

He ruts up into you, small whimpers leaving his lips. You smile as you take in just how perfect he looks like this, and only you get to see him like this. You run your thumb along his bottom lip before crashing your lips onto his feverishly.

You allow him to enjoy the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away, causing him to pout at the break of contact. You cup his cheek, giving it two playful pats. “You were patient all night,” you say as you stand up, hand still holding his face. He whines at the sudden loss of pressure to his crotch. “What do you want, baby?” you ask.

“Y-you,” he says, reaching his arms out to your waist, attempting to pull you back toward him, but you won’t let him.

You bring your fingers down his cheek, tracing an outline around his swollen lips. “I know that,” you say, “tell me what you want though. Use your words.”

His breath is shaky, the sweet tone and guidance in your voice making him weak. “I- I want you to r-ride me.” His face turns bright red as the words fall past his lips. He tries to hide his face in his shoulder, but you keep his face up by holding his chin.

You lean in and plant a firm kiss on his lips. “Good boy,” you praise.

The sound that left his mouth was straight out of a porno. You had to look down between his legs to make sure he didn’t cum right then. You knew Spencer loved when you praised him, but you were not expecting that reaction from those words.

“Did you like that, baby?” you ask, smiling at him as he was just so adorable.

He nodded so quickly back at you.

“Lay down for me,” you say, motioning toward the pillows on the bed. Spencer begins to oblige, but you stop him with a hand just under his bare navel. You comb your hand down his lower stomach achingly slow, hooking your fingers on his belt. “Take all this off too.”

He takes his belt and slacks off as you work to remove your shoes. He’s settled in bed once you're done, having taken his boxers off as well. He’s lying there completely naked for you, cock already a dark red and glistening against his abdomen. You slide your underwear off, eyes never once leaving Spencer’s.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs which were spread perfectly for you to fit between. You carefully lift his cock upright, taking him into your mouth as deep as you can. A long, disjointed moan echoes from him, his hands immediately pulling your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You move your mouth up and down him slowly, only a few repetitions taking place before he’s stopped you.

“I-I can’t. Please,” his voice is high pitch and whiny.

“Please what, Spence?” you ask, pumping your hand up his cock once, causing it to pulse aggressively in your grasp and his mouth to fall even further open.

“P-please fuck me,” he whispers, rutting into your hand. You pull your hand up him one more time, letting your thumb press on the wet, swollen head. He wines as beads of precum leave his tip, the subtle feeling still so good to cause his eyes to roll just slightly back in his head.

You crawl from between his legs to his waist, hovering over where he wants you the most. His hands find your waist, rubbing up and down your torso. Your hand reaches behind you, leading his cock to your entrance. Lining him up to you, you slowly sink onto him. You gnaw at your bottom lip as he stretches you out, not having had any preparation. It is a fairly painful sensation, yet the pain is welcome to you. He gently pushes you down by your waist, helping you to be filled by him, yet still cautious as to not hurt you.

He finally bottoms out inside you, and as the burning subsides, you begin to make small figure eights with your hips. He uses his grip on your waist to pull you into him, stretching to reach your lips with his. His moans are stifled by the kiss, but he still sounds so beautiful.

You use your knees as leverage as you shift to allow yourself to bounce up and down on him, your lips still attached to his. “You sound so pretty, Spence,” you say between breaths, his moans more apparent.

“P-please,” he begs. He’s begging for nothing. His hips begin to buck into you involuntarily, but you don’t stop him. You can tell by the switch in his breathing and velocity of his whimpers and whines he isn’t going to last much longer, and you want him to enjoy himself. After all, he was a good boy tonight.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan into his mouth. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His eyes go wide and hips begin to stutter as you speak. He’s struggling to thrust into you now. He’s close.

“Do you wanna cum?” you ask him.

He nods quickly. “Yes, fuck. Yes please,” now he’s begging for something.

You lean back away from the kiss, looking down at him and giving him a cheeky smirk. “Not yet.” He whines below you, almost looking betrayed. “Sit up, honey.”

He does what you ask, sitting up without pulling out of you. The shift of position causes the both of you to gasp, a different feeling being evoked between you. You begin to lean back, trying to pull him down with you.

“C’mon, come here, baby,” you say as his body falls over you. He begins to thrust into you, now having control of the speed and depth in which he fucks you.

“G-god, I’m so close y/n,” he whines, hips still stuttering into you.

“You can cum, baby,” you say, “been so good for me.” He’s shaking at your praise, you can sense he’s trying to hold it. “Don’t hold back for me baby.” You rub your nails down his smooth back.

He grunts as he thrusts into you. “Wanna-” he gasps, “wanna make you c-cum too,” he chokes out. He’s so close to his edge every part of him is shaking. ]

“It’s okay, baby,” you assure him, “I just want you to feel good.”

That’s all he needs to topple over. He thrusts shallowly as he fills you with his warmth, whimpers falling past his lips into the nape of your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, adding to all the other sensations you’re feeling.

He gives you a few more weak thrusts as he comes down, finally pulling out and falling limp on top of you. You feel his cum drip out of you, a strange yet erotic feeling. He rests on you for no more than a minute before hiking himself up on his elbows above you.

He looks in your eyes, bringing a hand up to move the hair away from your face. “I wanna make you cum now,” he says somehow innocently.

You smile at him, “you don’t have to, baby, it’s okay, really.”

“No, I want to. I want you to show me how.”

Spencer had never done more than finger you during foreplay, never having you finish from that alone. But you knew he didn’t need much ‘showing.’

“Okay baby, go for it.” You encourage him, taking his chin in your hands and kissing him.

He settles down between your thighs, hiking your dress up around your waist to allow for better access. He wastes no time in inserting two fingers into you, no hesitation from your body as you’d already been stretched out by him. His cum is still warm in you, acting as a secondary lubricant, only making the sounds and speed at which his fingers can pump into you more erotic.

Spencer knows to curl his fingers, something you taught him the first time, and he uses this to his advantage. He slips a third finger inside of you, curling his middle and ring finger while letting his ring finger go into you at full length. He uses his thumb to press firmly on your clit, a much much needed addition. You grind your hips into his hand as you feel your high already approaching.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, tugging slightly on his hair. “I’m close.”

His thumb halts its movements. His fingers continue moving in and out of you, and without warning, you feel his tongue press onto your clit. You involuntarily squeeze his face with your thighs, and you can hear him giggle into you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, not halting his finger’s movements at all and barely having taken his mouth off you.

“Yes,” you practically scream. “Oh my god, yes, Spencer.” You use your grip on his hair to push his face into you. He sucks gently on you as his fingers still are working inside you.

You begin to feel the tightness in your stomach, knowing you were about to come loose. You buck your hips, which only makes Spencer lick and suck harder on you, which is just what you needed to be pushed over the edge.

“Oh my god, Spencer.” You moan. He feels you clench around his fingers, knowing this means you are cumming.

He hums into you, the vibrations making your hips buck like crazy into his face. He slows his fingers as he feels you begin to come down, licking circles around your clit. Once he’s satisfied you’ve finished, he returns to hover above you.

He looks down into your eyes. His hair is sweaty against his forehead, cheeks red and hot, and oh my god his lips and chin are absolutely soaked with a mixture of you and him. Just the sight is so… god.

You bring your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down to you. You kiss him with passion, open mouthed, wanting to taste yourself and him. “God, you…” you can’t even find the words to say. He’s staring at you with a goofy grin on his face, clearly proud of himself. “I fucking love you, Spencer.”

“I love you,” he smiles. “And that dress.”

_____

next chapter: P is for Perfect

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

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a/n: this part took foreverrrrr oh my god. i just could not write spencer in a way i liked, but i fear if i proofread this one more time i’ll delete the whole thing again. i just need to post this part lmao surely someone will enjoy it. also, i will never use the word “panties.” i hate that word with every fiber of my being. #certifiedunderweargirl

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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taglist:

@justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @navs-bhat @sammy-4103 @ada--44 @moongirl27

@hopelessheaven @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @violetvsworld @ivyflowers13 @taygrls

@hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08

@princessbowbaby @theofficialfunk @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33

@maybe-not-this @wannabewolf @sylv3in @silver138 @sarcasm-and-stiles @pillsbury-doughgirl

@monfleurr @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden @vivixir @lolita-hc @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@guacam011y @super-nerd22 @khxna

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f1fnatic · 6 months ago

Text

DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND! ⤿ m. verstappen 1

→ ( in which. . . ) you're at a dreaded sponsor event for redbull and find someone that resents them just as much as you do, if not more.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) max verstappen x fem!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mutual pining, fluff, cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, chr*stian ho*ner

→ ( authors note. . . ) woohoo! another fic done :p this is just one of the 17 (😀) drafts i have... anyways... hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

you wanted to leave. but you couldn't. you had always hated these types of stuck-up sponsor events. luckily, you noticed some body who hated them just as much as you.

you caught a glimpse of him before he was whisked away by one of the redbull higher-ups. his dirty blonde hair was easy to spot among the brunettes surrounding him.

you, unfortunately, were in the same boat. someone who you forgot the name of was talking your ear off, slurring something along the lines of it being beneficial for their brand if you were to join with them.

being a redbull athlete meant high expectations and a multitude of events. sometimes you were given a heads-up, but tonight you weren't. no, instead, this sponsorship party was sprung upon you by your manager 3 hours before it started. they blamed it on the fact that you were 'unbelievably busy' and 'it slipped their mind.' that put you in a sour mood. you were home, meaning that you had made plans with your family and friends that you had to regrettably cancel.

this man was getting on your last nerve. you could not handle another second of his borderline incoherent mumbling. so, you kindly excused yourself for a drink. you turned on your skinny heel and began to walk away. the corset of your dress digging into your ribs with every step. breathing was becoming a task with the tightening ties. instead of stopping at the bar, you continue walking towards the balcony.

rays of moonlight flood through the dauntingly tall glass doors. you step through the threshold and onto the unusually small balcony. the crisp air feels like a shot of espresso as you breathe in. it rejuvenates you. a light breeze sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps appearing in its wake. there isn't much decor on the platform. string lights are threaded through the railing, potted plants are set in each corner of the rectangular area, and a gas fireplace is placed to the left surrounded by cushioned chairs.

a figure is standing in front of you, body slumped over the rail. you walk over. once you get closer, you are met with the familiar face of max verstappen.

max knew who it was before you reached him. the clicking of your expensive heels on the concrete of the balcony gave you away. as did the cherry-vanilla perfume you adored so much as it wafted in the wind. he was infatuated by you. he very rarely got to see you in person, but when he did, he drank you in like a man starved. the pure beauty you held made him shrink within himself.

"i thought i saw you earlier." you comment. that was a partial lie. you didn't see him directly, but you felt him. you knew that he was there when his burning gaze was digging into the back of your head.

he only smiles. he knew you would be here, much to your dismay. he was almost considering telling christian that he fell ill and wouldn't be able to make it, but he couldn't risk not seeing you. max looked to you and you looked back, a sickeningly sweet smile on your pink tinted lips.

a comfortable silence blanketed the both of you. you had one arm laying atop the balcony rail while the right was propped on your cheek. the golden bracelets fell down your wrist and twinkled in the soft light. your gaze fastened on the breathtaking sight in front of you.

max stood beside you in a trance. everything about you had him head over heels in love (but he wouldn't admit that.) the way your hair softly blew in the breeze, the way your rich blue dress complimented every curve of your built body, and the way your eyes twinkled in the moonlight made butterflies flutter everywhere in his body. they started in his stomach then migrated to his toes and fingertips. he knew he was blushing and was bright red. but the small buzz he had going could be to blame.

you weren't sure when, but at some point your bodies grew closer. maybe it was just max, or maybe the both of you. but the added body heat began to slowly warm you up.

just like before, you could feel his intense, icy gaze burning into the side of your skull. "you're staring."

"i know. just enjoying the view." he replies simply. you turn to look at him, a shocked expression on your face. a light blush began to dust your cheeks.

"is that so?" you ask. he nods simply, closing his eyes and smiling. you playfully scoff before somberly adding, "you know you may grow tired."

"with you in front of me? never." he expresses. "truthfully y/n, if i could paint, you would be my muse. no doubt about it. i would never grow tired of looking at you. your beauty is simply awe inducing."

you were speechless. words escaped you and you were positive your blush got even darker. you shyly went to turn back to face the view but max's hand quickly found yours and tugged your body back to face him. he kept hold of your hand and interlaced your fingers with his.

"don't look away." he states. a heat began to bundle in your core. he had never talked to you this way, nor acted this way. you wish he would. there was something unreadable in his eyes, the bright blue darkening.

you silently stared at each other. neither of you daring to break eye contact. that is, until, the sound of someone clearing their throat made the two of you, unfortunately, separate. the lack of heat made the bitter cold even colder.

you turn your attention to the sound and are met with none other than christian horner. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything." he says smugly.

"nope, nothing at all." max responds, sheepishly sliding his hands into his pants pockets. christian stood in the door way, arms crossed like a doting father.

he acknowledges you with a simple "y/n." you respond with a nod. he then turns his attention back to max. "there's a sponsor wanting to talk to you. something about sunglasses. i told him i'd come and get you."

you look up to max and see him deflate a little. you gave him a sympathetic pout and patted him on the shoulder. "so then, let's go." christian pushes, annoyance laced into his tone. he turns to leave, returning inside just out of view of the glass doors.

max goes to follow, but now it was your turn to grab his hand and make him turn around. he does so enthusiastically. "don't leave me behind, yeah maxie?" you say moving your hands to his shoulders, locking your fingers behind his neck.

"i won't, i promise schatje." his hands went to rest on your hips. warmth radiated from his palms enveloping you in heat. the both of you started at one another, eyes locked and cheeks flushed, red like a sunburn.

max slowly moves in and you follow. the two of you always seemed to gravitate towards one another; like two galaxies yearning to twirl with each other.

you knew what he wanted, and he knew you wanted the same. blue eyes locked on your pink lips. instead of you connecting with his, you swerve and plant a kiss on his cheek; just at the intersection of skin and lip. your lipstick left a visible imprint almost like a stamp. his blue eyes twinkle and you smile. "you should go before horner grounds you."

max laughs before dropping his hands from your waist and you do the same. that same bitter cold returns but you knew it wouldn't last long, he would be back in no time.

"you'll still be out here, yeah?" he questions.

"i should, unless stephen hunts me down to talk to a sponsor."

"i'll find you before that." he winks. he bowed in front of you playfully. a laugh fell from your lips. god, he loved your laugh. he smiled at himself. turning on his heel he began retreating back inside. he turned to look over your shoulder, bidding you adieu.

there you stood, on the balcony, cheeks red, butterflies flying around restlessly throughout your body, yearning for the man that owned your heart.

first max fic! really happy with how this one turned out. AND OFF TOPIC BUT CHARLES FIRST GRAND PRIX WIN OF THE SEASON?? AND IT WAS MONACO?? OMG?? also, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

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urdreamydoodles · 16 days ago

Note

Can you please make an X-Men with a goth reader?? With Logan, Scott, Remy, Rogue, Pietro, etc.

We need more x men that can handle a goth baddie ��🙏

X-Men x Goth!Reader

How the X-Men react to their gothic s/o

Wrapped in dark elegance, your presence is a mystery, a shadow that moves beside them.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Oh my god, thank you for this prompt. I hadn't thought of that yet, and now I'm in love. (And yes, the X-Men need a goth baddie) Hope you like it <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan was immediately intrigued by your dark, edgy look. He’s always appreciated individuality, and your gothic style is no exception. There’s a look of quiet admiration in his eyes whenever you’re dressed up in dark attire, heavy eyeliner, and your signature accessories. He finds it a refreshing contrast to his own rugged appearance, and there’s a glint in his eye every time he sees you dressed to the nines in your gothic style.

- Despite his rough-and-tumble nature, Logan has a soft spot for taking care of you when you’re adjusting your outfit or fixing your makeup. He’s rough with his own appearance but becomes surprisingly delicate if you need him to hold a pin, help fasten a corset, or even steady your eyeliner in a moving vehicle. Logan finds a sort of pride in your style and will gruffly mutter about how you don’t need any of it to look “kickass” — though he never actually tells you to change.

- Logan has always been a bit protective, but seeing you in such unique attire intensifies that instinct. Whether you’re out in public or at a party with other mutants, he’s hyper-aware of anyone staring too long or making a comment. Anyone who tries to criticize or judge your appearance will face Logan’s steely glare, and if anyone dares to say something unkind, Logan will growl out a curt, “Watch your mouth.”

- Logan takes you on adventures in the forest, where your aesthetic is at home against dark trees, shadows, and the moonlight casting a pale glow. He notices the way your love of all things dark blends so well with nature, and he’ll sometimes surprise you with gifts like black roses or unique stones that he finds during his travels. There’s an unspoken connection between his wild spirit and your gothic beauty, and he feels that keenly.

- In private, Logan can’t help but be a little captivated by you. When you’re together, he takes a moment to admire you in the shadows, noticing the details in your clothing, jewelry, and makeup. He’ll run his fingers over your darkened nails or twirl a piece of your hair, finding the gothic aesthetic mysterious and alluring. He may be a man of few words, but the way he looks at you says it all.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was charmed from the moment he saw your gothic look. He’s always been drawn to unique personalities, and your dark, striking style caught his attention immediately. He’s often complimenting your bold choices and teasingly asks if you’re trying to cast a spell on him with your bewitching look. Every time you add something new to your ensemble, he’s the first to notice and give an enthusiastic approval.

- Remy loves accessorizing and will often gift you trinkets and jewelry that he thinks match your aesthetic. He has an eye for detail and will go out of his way to find vintage rings, unique chokers, or bracelets that fit right into your gothic wardrobe. Sometimes he’ll even joke that he “borrowed” it from a wealthy socialite, adding a bit of thrill to each item he gives you.

- Whenever you’re out together, Remy makes it clear to everyone around that he’s proud to be by your side. He doesn’t mind being the center of attention, and he revels in the way people stare at the two of you together. Your gothic style, paired with his smooth Cajun charm, makes you both an irresistible sight, and he absolutely loves the dramatic effect you create as a couple.

- Remy isn’t shy about getting involved in your look either. He’ll sometimes join you in wearing darker colors, occasionally adding a dark coat or some subtle accessories to match your aesthetic. And whenever you put on darker lipstick or smudged eyeliner, he’s quick to lean in, smirking and saying, “Chere, you tryin’ to make a bad boy outta me?” before sneaking a kiss and smudging your lipstick.

- At the end of the day, Remy loves the way your dark, bold look contrasts with his playful nature. In private moments, he’ll trace his fingers over your jewelry or adjust your lace gloves, smiling in admiration. There’s something about your mysterious beauty that makes him feel even more protective and infatuated, and he’ll often pull you close, murmuring about how he’s got a taste for danger — and you’re exactly his type.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt is utterly enchanted by your gothic style. To him, it’s a beautiful form of self-expression, and he admires your ability to embrace it so wholeheartedly. His own appearance has always set him apart, and your willingness to stand out with your unique look makes him feel seen and appreciated. He’ll often tell you how striking you look, calling you his “dark angel.”

- While Kurt’s aesthetic might be different, he secretly loves trying out some gothic-inspired touches when he’s with you. Whether it’s a spiked bracelet, a dark cloak, or even dabbling with black nail polish (after much convincing), he’s open to stepping out of his usual look to match your vibe, finding it fun and endearing to share in your aesthetic.

- Kurt is deeply respectful of your style, and he’s fascinated by the meaning behind the gothic elements you choose. He’ll eagerly ask about your jewelry, your makeup, or why you love dark colors. He listens intently to your answers, often seeing your look as a form of art and self-expression. He sees beauty in everything you do, and that extends deeply to your appearance.

- When you’re both out together, Kurt keeps an arm protectively around you, teleporting you out of crowds if he senses anyone staring too much. He knows how judgmental people can be, and he wants you to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. He’ll often take you on night-time adventures, leaping across rooftops with you in his arms, knowing you’ll love the thrill of the city under moonlight.

- Kurt loves your aesthetic so much that he’s inspired to draw you. When he has free time, you’ll catch him sketching in his notebook, creating little drawings of you in various gothic outfits. He never tells you about it until you find his sketches by accident, blushing furiously when you compliment his work. He’d say shyly, “Vhy wouldn’t I vish to capture such beauty?”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott’s first reaction to your gothic style is one of quiet fascination. As someone who’s usually by the book, he’s intrigued by how unapologetically yourself you are. He’s not exactly one for bold fashion statements, but he admires your confidence and individuality, often finding himself silently captivated by your unique look. He might not say it often, but his lingering glances are unmistakable.

- Scott quickly becomes a bit protective when you’re out in public, especially if people stare or make comments. He’s the type to subtly position himself between you and any potential gawkers, his arm hovering near yours in a quiet but firm show of solidarity. He respects your aesthetic completely, and he doesn’t tolerate any negativity directed your way.

- While Scott may not share your love for gothic fashion, he’ll still make an effort to understand it. He’s the type to do his research and might even surprise you with knowledge about gothic subculture, books, or art. He takes your interests seriously and often engages in thoughtful conversations, eager to understand the things you’re passionate about.

- Although Scott isn’t one for grand gestures, he’s deeply supportive in his own quiet way. He’ll surprise you with thoughtful little gifts—perhaps a book by a gothic author you admire or a vintage item he thinks would suit your style. His love language might be subtle, but he’s always thinking of ways to show his appreciation for the things that make you unique.

- Behind closed doors, Scott’s admiration for your gothic look becomes a little more apparent. He’s endlessly fascinated by the contrast between his own controlled, structured personality and your bold, mysterious beauty. He’ll sometimes run his fingers through your hair, admiring the way it frames your face, and he’ll tell you in his own reserved way just how much he’s in awe of you.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean is fascinated by your gothic style and sees it as a beautiful, creative way to express yourself. She finds herself admiring the little details in your attire, the dark layers, intricate jewelry, and the way it all complements your personality. Her curiosity often leads her to ask about your fashion choices, eager to understand what each piece means to you.

- Being empathetic and open-minded, Jean appreciates how you embrace a style that isn’t necessarily “mainstream.” She’ll often compliment you, giving you a gentle smile and reminding you that she loves your unique style. She finds it refreshingly bold and admires how it reflects your inner strength and individuality. Jean occasionally likes to join you in trying out darker makeup or accessories to match your aesthetic, finding the experience fun and bonding.

- Jean’s powers make her sensitive to people’s thoughts, and she’s hyper-aware of the judgmental looks or whispers when you’re both out in public. She’s quick to reassure you telepathically, sending you warm, encouraging thoughts if she senses any discomfort from you. Her presence always feels like a supportive, silent reminder that she’s by your side, and she has a way of making you feel completely understood.

- Sometimes, she’ll surprise you with little gifts that fit your gothic style—a delicate black pendant she found, a book of poetry she thinks you’ll love, or a flower carefully chosen to match your look. Jean’s attentiveness shows in every thoughtful gesture, and she genuinely enjoys finding ways to make you feel cherished and accepted.

- Jean often finds herself captivated by the way your gothic aesthetic contrasts with her own. In private moments, she’ll softly tell you how beautiful and mysterious you look, her gaze filled with admiration. She’ll gently brush a strand of hair from your face, whispering about how she feels lucky to be with someone as unique and bold as you.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue adores your gothic style and finds it incredibly cool. She’s all about breaking the mold, so seeing you embrace a bold, dark aesthetic instantly impresses her. She’s the type to playfully nudge you and say, “You look killer, sugah,” whenever you put together a particularly striking look, and she often asks for style tips to incorporate some gothic elements into her own outfits.

- She loves joining you in shopping trips for gothic clothes and accessories. Rogue has a thing for statement pieces herself, so she’s always on the lookout for something edgy that could match both of your styles. She’s especially drawn to things like dark leather jackets, silver rings, and anything that screams “rebellious”—finding it exciting to shop with someone who has a taste for the unconventional.

- Rogue has a protective streak and won’t stand for anyone disrespecting you or making you feel out of place. If someone stares too long or makes a comment, Rogue has no problem giving them a sharp, intimidating glare. She’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself, and she’ll always make sure you feel comfortable and safe being yourself around her.

- Your gothic look and overall vibe sometimes make her feel a bit soft around you, and she loves that. Rogue admires your confidence and how you carry yourself, and she’s grateful for the quiet strength she feels from being with you. Sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, she’ll sit close and tell you how she feels like she’s found a kindred spirit in you—someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.

- In private, Rogue is endlessly affectionate and attentive. She loves taking in all the little details, like how you accessorize or the particular makeup you wear. She’ll sometimes brush her gloved hand across your cheek, marveling at how stunning you look and making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. With you, she can be her true, unfiltered self, and she’s grateful for that.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is immediately intrigued by your gothic aesthetic. He’s a person of elegance and sophistication, but he appreciates when someone dares to be different. He’ll often give you a thoughtful once-over, his piercing gaze lingering on you in silent admiration. Though he doesn’t say much at first, he finds himself fascinated by your unique look and style.

- Erik’s keen intellect often leads him to inquire about the historical roots of the gothic subculture, and he listens intently as you explain its influences. He sees a lot of strength in your choice to embrace a bold, non-conformist style and has a profound respect for your commitment to your aesthetic. He’ll occasionally surprise you with antique jewelry or rare finds that match your taste, finding a sort of thrill in choosing gifts you’ll treasure.

- When you’re out together, Erik is a silent but powerful presence, always by your side and subtly protective. Anyone who dares look down on you or make a judgmental comment will quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his steely glare. He values self-expression and has no patience for those who would try to undermine yours, making it very clear that he respects you fully and will tolerate no less from others.

- He has a refined appreciation for your style, often drawing parallels between it and his own preference for timeless, dignified looks. In private, he’ll run a hand over a piece of your jewelry or trace his fingers along the intricate details of your clothes, remarking in a low voice about how well it all suits you. He finds your appearance mesmerizing and genuinely enjoys the aura of mystery you bring with you.

- Erik doesn’t often show vulnerability, but with you, he finds himself at ease. He admires how your gothic style reflects resilience, a quality he holds dear, and he sees in you a kindred spirit—a reminder of strength in individuality. When it’s just the two of you, he’ll quietly express how he feels lucky to have found someone who embraces the world with such fierce independence.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby is absolutely fascinated by your gothic style. As someone who’s always been a bit playful and lighthearted, he finds your dark, brooding aesthetic to be thrillingly different from anything he’s used to. He’ll often tease you affectionately, calling you his “goth queen” or “dark angel” in that playful way only he can pull off, genuinely admiring your commitment to the look.

- He’s endlessly curious about your fashion choices and will often ask questions about the different elements of your style, from the jewelry to the makeup. Bobby isn’t afraid to experiment either—sometimes you’ll catch him jokingly trying on your rings or attempting your dark eyeliner just for laughs. He loves getting you to crack a smile, even if it means looking a little ridiculous himself.

- Bobby is all about hyping you up in public. He finds your look incredibly cool and will proudly show you off whenever you’re together. If people give you weird looks, he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder and declare, “Yeah, that’s my goth babe—jealous?” His lighthearted energy brings a fun dynamic to your relationship, making you feel completely accepted for who you are.

- Despite his own upbeat personality, Bobby finds your gothic aesthetic deeply captivating. He’s fascinated by how well it reflects your personality, and he often jokes about being “entranced” by your dark, mysterious look. Sometimes, he’ll even ask if you could show him a bit more about the gothic subculture, genuinely interested in learning about something that means so much to you.

- In quiet moments, Bobby is surprisingly thoughtful, admiring your makeup or your choice of accessories in a way that’s tender and sincere. He’ll tell you that you look amazing and that he’s lucky to have someone so unique and bold by his side. Beneath all his jokes, there’s a deep respect for your individuality, and he genuinely loves how your gothic aesthetic adds a layer of mystery and allure to your relationship.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda is deeply drawn to your gothic aesthetic and feels an immediate kinship with you. She’s familiar with the feeling of being different, of standing apart, so she instantly understands your choice to embrace a darker look. She loves how your style is unapologetically you and finds comfort in how it resonates with the magic and mystery she herself embodies.

- Wanda is genuinely captivated by the intricacies of your look. She’ll admire the subtle details—maybe a delicate, ornate ring or a shadowed makeup look that speaks to your artistry. Sometimes she’ll playfully use her magic to make a small dark aura shimmer around you, a soft, enchanted touch to match your aesthetic. It’s her way of embracing your uniqueness and showing that she appreciates every part of you.

- When you’re both out together, she’s proud to be seen by your side. If people stare or pass judgment, Wanda doesn’t let it affect her. She’ll take your hand and give you a knowing smile, her quiet confidence making you feel fully accepted. Her serene presence has a calming effect, and you know you’re safe with her, free to be yourself without any need to explain or justify.

- Wanda loves sharing her own story with you, talking about the darker aspects of her past and the magic that’s sometimes misunderstood by others. She feels like you understand her struggles and admires how your gothic style speaks to resilience and defiance. Sometimes, she’ll create small magical gifts for you—a necklace that glows faintly with enchantment or a rose that never wilts, gestures to show her affection and appreciation for who you are.

- In private, she’s incredibly gentle and open, drawn to how your darker style balances her sometimes chaotic world. Wanda will often express how much she cherishes you, how your individuality and strength help her feel more grounded. She finds comfort in your presence, and there’s a deep, almost otherworldly bond that connects you both, as if she’s found a piece of herself in you.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro is absolutely fascinated by your gothic look and finds it incredibly cool. He’s the type to whistle and tease you, calling you his “gothic queen” or “dark angel” with a big, proud grin. Your style is so different from his fast-paced, casual vibe, and he loves how it sets you apart from everyone else he knows.

- He loves showing you off and finds joy in watching other people’s reactions when they see you two together. Pietro has a protective streak, so if anyone gives you a weird look or mutters a snide comment, he’s quick to shut them down with a snappy comeback. He’s proud of your unique style and makes it known that he wouldn’t want you any other way.

- Pietro’s energy is a fun contrast to your aesthetic, and he often makes it his mission to get you to crack a smile. Whether it’s by jokingly trying on your dark lipstick or attempting your makeup style (usually ending up with eyeliner everywhere), he’s always trying to bring some lightheartedness into your day. He loves that your seriousness balances him out, and he always feels like his life is a bit more exciting with you in it.

- He’s incredibly curious about all things gothic and will often ask questions about your music, style, or favorite bands. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you by blasting one of your favorite gothic rock songs while you’re together, just to show he’s been paying attention. He’s always eager to learn more about what makes you tick and is genuinely interested in understanding the darker elements of your personality.

- In quieter moments, Pietro will tell you how lucky he feels to be with someone who’s so unapologetically themselves. He’s a bit of a show-off, but around you, he’s sincere, openly admiring the depth you bring to his life. He loves the contrast between your mysterious vibe and his vibrant personality, and he feels like you’re his perfect opposite, bringing balance to his world.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura’s first reaction to your gothic style is quiet fascination. She’s not one to comment much on appearances, but she admires how self-assured you seem with your unique look. She respects individuality, and your dark aesthetic quickly becomes something she associates with strength and resilience—a reminder that you’re someone who can stand out and face the world on your own terms.

- She’s very protective of you, especially if you’re out together and encounter anyone who looks down on your style. Laura doesn’t tolerate any disrespect, and if she senses anyone judging you, they’ll get a deadly glare. Your relationship with Laura is based on mutual respect, and she’ll go out of her way to make sure you’re never made to feel lesser because of how you look.

- Laura isn’t one for big gestures, but she shows her affection in small, meaningful ways. If she notices a new accessory or makeup look, she’ll give you a subtle nod of approval or say, “You look nice.” It’s her way of showing that she notices the little things and that she values the care you put into your style. Occasionally, she’ll even ask for your input if she wants to try something different with her look, trusting your judgment.

- Sometimes, Laura’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she’ll sit with you to ask questions about the gothic subculture. She respects that there’s a deeper meaning behind your aesthetic, and learning about your interests helps her feel closer to you. She listens intently, taking in every word with her characteristic seriousness, and it’s clear she appreciates the passion you have for your style.

- When it’s just the two of you, Laura lets her guard down and shows a softer side, often complimenting you in her own way. She’ll tell you that you’re “different from anyone else,” and coming from her, it’s the highest praise. With Laura, you know you’re accepted fully, and she values the unique presence you bring to her life, finding comfort and strength in the dark beauty that defines you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade is absolutely thrilled by your gothic style and finds it ridiculously cool. He’s the type to immediately start calling you his “dark and mysterious love,” and he’s not shy about showing you off. He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere, proudly bragging to anyone who’ll listen about how awesome you look. He loves that your aesthetic stands out and often tries to “match” you in his own chaotic way.

- Being Wade, he’s constantly trying to make you laugh, especially since your serious demeanor intrigues him. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, and make exaggerated compliments about how you’re his “queen of darkness.” He’s always trying to get a smile out of you, relishing the challenge of breaking through your stoic exterior, and finds it endlessly amusing when he actually succeeds.

- Wade also loves dressing up to match your gothic look on occasion, though his interpretations are… creative. He’ll try on dark makeup or leather jackets and end up looking like a rock star from the 80s. Despite how outlandish he looks, his attempts are always genuine, and he adores the way your aesthetic complements his unpredictable personality.

- Wade is surprisingly sensitive to how the world judges appearances and takes it personally if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself and will launch into a full-fledged speech about how amazing you are, shutting down any naysayers with his trademark over-the-top theatrics. With Wade, you know you’ll always be celebrated for exactly who you are.

- In private, Wade will tell you how he admires the confidence and mystery you carry with your style. Beneath his antics, there’s a genuine admiration for your strength and individuality. He’ll hold your hand, make eye contact, and tell you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, adding with a smirk, “Even if you look like you might summon a demon any second.” It’s his way of saying he’s completely smitten, and he loves you just as you are.

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alnilaem · 6 months ago

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breathplay with Ghost where you’re the princess destined to be his cute little wife and he’s the warlord who bullies his way into your chambers before your wedding (ignoring the murmurs from your ladies-in-waiting saying he “Isn’t allowed”), helping you fasten your corset perhaps a little too tightly

#it’s his way id wrangling you up mwah #because you’re all sniffly and skittish

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martysimone · 2 years ago

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Jean Paul Gaultier | silk long sleeve corset + lace-up fastening at the back | Spring Summer 2008 Ready-to-Wear | seller One Of A Kind Archive ~ London

#Jean Paul Gaultier #corset #Ready-to-Wear #vintage

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literaryvein-reblogs · 4 months ago

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Word List: Fashion History

to try to include in your poem/story (pt. 1/3)

Adinkra - a flat, cotton textile that is stamped with symbols which create the meaning of the garment; produced by the Asante peoples in Ghana

Agal - a rope made from animal hair which wraps around a keffiya (square cloth) on the head and is worn typically by Bedouin men

Akwete - a decorative cloth with complex weave designs, creating intricate geometric patterns, made with many vibrant colors; it is usually made into wrappers for women to wear and it is made by the Igbo women of Nigeria

Aniline Dyes - synthetic, chemical dyes for garments first invented in the 19th century

Anorak - a jacket that typically has a hood, but not always, which was originally worn by the indigenous peoples of the Arctic designed to keep them warm and protected from harsh weather

Back Apron (Negbe) - an oval-shaped decorative pad worn by Mangbetu women over the buttocks in Central Africa

Backstrap Loom - a lightweight, mobile loom made of wood and a strap that is wrapped around the back; it only needed to be attached to a tree or a post for stability and to provide tension

Banyan - a loose-fitted informal robe or gown typically worn by men in the late 17th to the early 19th centuries

Barbette - a piece of linen which passes under the chin and is pinned at the sides, usually worn in conjunction with additional head coverings during the Middle Ages

Bark Cloth - fabric made out of bark from trees

Beadnet Dress - a decorative sheath dress made of beads worn in ancient Egypt

Bloomers - a bifurcated garment that were worn under dresses in the 19th century; they soon became a symbol of women’s rights because early activist Amelia Bloomer wore drawers long enough to stick out from under her dress

Bogolanfini - (bogolan- meaning cloth; fini- meaning mud) a cotton cloth made from strips of woven fabric, which are decorated with symbolic patterns using the mud-resist technique, sewn together at the selvage to create a fabric that is utilized during the main four stages of a West African Bamana woman’s life: puberty, marriage, motherhood, and death

Bombast/Bombasted - the padding used to structure clothing and create fashionable silhouettes in the 16th and 17th centuries

Boubou - an African robe made of one large rectangle of fabric with an opening in the center for the neck; when worn it drapes down over the shoulders and billows at the sleeves

Buff Coat - a leather version of the doublet that was often, but not exclusively, worn by people in the military in the 17th century

Bum Roll - a roll of padding tied around the hip line to hold a woman’s skirt out from the body in the late 16th and early 17th centuries

Burqa - an outer garment worn by Muslim women that covers the entire body, often with a cutout or mesh at the eyes

Busk - a flat length stay piece that was inserted into the front of a corset to keep it stiff from the 16th century to the early 20th century

Bustle - a pad or frame worn under a skirt puffing it out behind

Cage Crinoline - a hooped cage worn under petticoats in the 19th century to stiffen and extend the skirt

Caraco - 18th century women’s jacket, fitted around the torso and flared out after the waist

Carrick Coat - an overcoat with three to five cape collars popular in the 19th century and mostly worn for riding and travel–sometimes called a Garrick or coachman’s coat

Chantilly Lace - a kind of bobbin lace popularized in 18th century France; it is identifiable by its fine ground, outlined pattern, and abundant detail, and was generally made from black silk thread

Chaperon - a turban-like headdress worn during the Middle Ages in Western Europe

Chemisette - a piece of fabric worn under bodices in the 19th century to fill in low necklines for modesty and decoration

Chiton - an ancient Greek garment created from a single piece of cloth wrapped around the body and held together by pins at the shoulders

Chlamys - a rectangular cloak fastened at the neck or shoulder that wraps around the body like a cape

Chopines - high platform shoes worn mostly in Venice in the 16th & 17th centuries

Clavus/Clavi - decorative vertical stripes that ran over the shoulder on the front and back of a Late Roman or Byzantine tunic

Clocks/Clocking - decorative and strengthening embroidery on stockings in Europe and America during the 16th-19th centuries

Cochineal Dyes - come from the Cochineal beetle that is native to the Americas and is most commonly found on prickly pear cacti; when dried and crushed, it creates its famous red pigment that is used to dye textiles

Codpiece - originally created as the join between the two hoses at the groin, the codpiece eventually became an ornate piece of male dress in the 16th century

Cuirass Bodice - a form-fitting, long-waisted, boned bodice worn in the 1870s and 1880s–almost gives the appearance of armor as the name suggests

Dagging - an extremely popular decorative edging technique created by cutting that reached its height during the Middle Ages and Renaissance

Dalmatic Tunic - a t-shaped tunic with very wide sleeves; worn by both men and women during the Byzantine empire

Dashiki - a loose-fitting pullover tunic traditionally worn in West African cultures that was adopted by African diasporic communities as a symbol of African heritage in the 1960s and then more widely worn as a popular item of “ethnic” fashion

Dentalium Cape - or dentalium dress is a garment worn by Native American women that is made from the stringing together of dentalium shells in a circular pattern around the neck and across the chest and shoulders

Doublet - an often snug-fitting jacket that is shaped and fitted to a man’s body–worn mostly in the 15th to 17th centuries

Échelle - a decorative ladder of bows descending down the stomacher of a dress; worn during the late 17th and 18th centuries; sometimes spelled eschelle

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Fashion History ⚜ Word Lists

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month ago

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Paging Dr. Sexy and Dr. McDreamy!

Summary: You try to go to a Halloween costume wearing pretty scandalous costume. Both your boyfriends disagree with your choice, but you plainly ignore them. They decide to take matters into their own hands and punish you for it.

Characters Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reader x Geto Suguru

Word Count: 3.2K

Warning: dress up, language, Brat/brat tamer, degradation, spanking, hair pulling, anal, sex unprotected sex, cream pies,

A/N: Kinktoner Day 18: Scandalous Costume! Ahhh my boys!! 😈 I would wear those just to get a rise out of them!

“No.” Satoru nearly drops the case of beer he’s holding as you step out of the bathroom. “No, what the fuck are you wearing?!”

You give him an incredulous glare, eyeing yourself up and down before fixing your attention back on him. “Uhm, I am wearing a nurse costume for the Halloween party.” Your white-haired boyfriend scuffs as emotion down to yourself to emphasize the point; in fact, we’re wearing a costume as it was clear as day.

“No, you're not wearing that shit!”

“Yes, I am!”

Satoru scrubs a hand down his face as he puts the beer on the kitchen counter. “Suguru!” he yells down the hall for help from his best friend and partner. “I need your help with this!” Suguru sighed b as he walked out of the bathroom, smoothing out the scrubs he had on before tugging on the white doctor's coat.

“What?”

“Did you know what she was planning on wearing tonight?!” Satoru asks, in a matching teal scrub, set complete with a stethoscope.

Suguru doesn’t even bother looking in your direction. He reached for the fridge, grabbing the fruit tray you were bringing along with the beer. “She’s got a cute little nurse outfit because we’re both going to this as doctors.” Suguru places the fruit tray on the counter.

“She cannot go to the party dressed like that.”

“Satoru.” Suguru chastises, giving him an almost disgusted look. “She can wear whatever she wants. I bet there will be more girls at this party wearing less clothes than she is. It’s fun; we’ll take off whatever little she has on when we get home.” Around the same time, Satoru realizes Suguru probably has no idea what you’re wearing. So, he grabs both sides of his boyfriend’s face without saying a word before turning his head to face you. When his violet eyes lock on you, his jaw drops.

When you said, you were going to dress as a nurse for this party. He had expected a cute little dress, maybe some thigh-high socks and heels. With whatever hat in the prepackaged costume. Maintaining sexy and cute at the same time. What you were wearing was considered as fucking lingerie! You wore a tight, one-piece, white lace lingerie corset set with red trimming that barely covered your ass.

Your boots were leather and a bright red, going up to the top of your thighs. And, of course, to ensure they didn’t fall, garter belts were fastened to your underwear so he could see as clearly as day through the lacy top you were wearing. The most wholesome part of your costume had to be the little nurse's head on the top of your head. Everything else looked like it was straight off of a porn site.

You looked fucking hot. That was the truth in black-and-white writing! You looked perfect. Your ass was voluptuous and delicious! But there was no way he would let you leave the house in that lingerie.

“No,” Suguru repeated his best friend's words from several minutes before. “You cannot wear that.”

Your cheeks puff out, and frustration as your well-done makeup glitters in the apartment's light. “I am!” You stick your bottom lip out, crossing your arms over your chest effectively, pushing your breasts that are already popping out together. “I did not seriously just spend an hour getting ready for you to tell me to change into something stupid.” Your boyfriend exchange with each other; their eyes have a silent conversation.

“You’re not wearing that, " both boyfriends said in unison. I told you this conversation was over.

So much your dismay the boys you put on boring scrub that they had. You weren’t going to let us stand, though. You had a plan when they would never come.

When you all got to Shoko and Utahime’s for the party, you immediately took off, telling them you needed to use the restroom. You insisted that they have their fun, and they, of course, took the bait. You smirk as you watch them hurry off to a table to grab some drink as you set off to invoke your devilish little scheme.

“Where is she?” Satoru asked, looking over the heads of everyone else walking around. In one hand, he was nursing Cola, and the other toyed with the badge that read “Dr. Sexy” attached to his chest.

“She’s fine, Satoru.” Suguru had it in his leg, shaking as he looked around the room for you. “She’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

Part of Satoru wanted to believe that, but he knew you. You tended to get a little pissy whenever you were told not to do something. And when you got pissy, you turned into a brat. It was only a matter of time before you started doing something to get back at them for making you change.

He huffed out a sigh, about ready to give up on his quest to find you. When he heard a whistle from across the room, he turned his head to the sound, looking over to see a few men standing off to the side, pointing at a woman passing by. One seemed eerily similar to you, which couldn’t be because you weren’t wearing the skin costume you had on earlier.

“There’s no fucking way,” Satoru grumbled, smacking Suguru’s arm, motioning him to join his side. “Please tell me you weren’t seeing what I’m seeing.”

There was a sharp huff from the longer-haired man as he pushed himself out of the chair, following his best friend's gaze. He stopped watching as your doppelgänger bent over the table, reaching for a drink. As much as he wanted to believe it wasn’t you, he knew your cute ass anywhere.

And that cute ass was currently bent over a table, grabbing a drink from Yuki, who reached over to toy with the lingerie corset you were wearing. The same one they both had told you not to wear. Both of your boyfriends moved before they could even think. They pushed past people, gritting their teeth with every glance. A guy stole it from you. Wanting to end the ones who are practically undressing you and eye fucking you right there in the room.

They had no issues with you wearing what you wanted. But when you were dressed like that in a room where men had trouble controlling themselves, they got protective. Besides, this costume, if you could even call it a costume, was nearly see-through, exposing parts of your skin that they didn’t want other people to see. They were possessive and protective in every way they could be. So they were pissed off with your little stunt was a bit of an understatement.

“You look so good!” Yuki cheered down her beer before draping an arm over her boyfriend, Choso. “Like seriously, dude, you look amazing!”

“Thank you!” You pulled back one of the red straps to your garter belt, snapping it against your thigh. “The boys didn’t want me wearing this, but I’m a grown woman who can handle myself!”

“Is that so?” A chill ran down your spine as you choked on your rum and Coke. “You can handle yourself?”

Yuki hissed quickly, averting her eyes as she tried to focus on anything other than the towering men above you. “Yikes, come on, Cho.” And within the snap of a finger, your best friend abandoned you to the wolves circling you.

At first, you froze, unsure of what to do or what to say. The smell of clean linen, mint, and pure musk invaded your senses. Usually, it brought you a sense of comfort, but tonight, it made your stomach twist and knots. You had to be strong, though you were making a point. This was your choice! You wanted to prove to them that you were fully capable of making your own decisions.

Whether they liked it or not.

Tilting your head back, you looked up at the two men glaring down at you. “Oh, hi, guys.” You took a long drawl of your drink. “I decided to get into something a little more comfortable.” Suguru and Satoru gave each other another look, one you weren’t able to read. “I hope you don’t mind.” To emphasize your point, you took the strap on your garter belt again and pulled it out as far as possible before snapping it against your skin.

“Oh, you wanna be comfortable?”

“That is what she said.”

Satoru grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head to the side, allowing Suguru to slide down his mouth, pressing against your ear. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But this little outfit you’re wearing is far from comfortable.” In a single swoop, you were lifted off the ground.

“H-Hey!” Your cheeks were on fire as the boys paid no mind to anyone else clearing a path as they headed for the basement. “W-What are you guys doing?!”

Satoru went down first, ensuring the basement, normally reserved for Shoko’s close friends, was empty. “Oh, she doesn’t know what’s going on.” Satoru scoffed as bounded up the stairs, locking the door behind him as Suguru carried you down the stairs. “You’re so cute when you act stupid.” Satoru’s hand slapped firmly against your ass, drawing out a scream from you.

“You said you wanted to be comfortable.”

“Mhmm~ and that tight corset is far from being comfortable.” Satoru purred, tilting his head to the side. “So the only reasonable thing for us to do is to help you get even more comfortable.”

“Exactly; what kind of boyfriends would we be if we just let you suffer?”

Suguru sat down on the couch as Satoru came up behind you grinding his hips against the bed of your ass. “G-Guys, let’s talk about this, Haah!” You cried out as Satoru’s fingers hooked underneath the flimsy fabric of your outfit, tugging to the side, revealing the pink jeweled butt plug you had in. “I-I was trying to make a point!”

“A point we can read loud and clear.” Suguru hummed, his hands working at your breasts, squeezing and massaging them as he buckled his hips up against you. The swell of his cock rubbed perfectly over your clit. “Poor Princess just wants some attention, it seems.”

Satoru hummed in agreement, nodding as he grabbed the butt plug that was firmly placed in your ass, gently tugging on it, causing you to moan as it caught against the rim of your hole. “We can give you all the attention you want.” He slowly twisted the toy before pushing it back in, repeating the movement over and over again as Suguru continued grinding against it.

“I don't need attention.”

“That’s what your actions say. You blatantly disobeyed us. Fuck you lied to us. We can see exactly what you want and need now.” Suguru ripped the lazy corset down, shredding the thin material as he freed your breasts. “You wanted our attention.”

“And you got it.” Satoru finished as he yanked the butt plug out, causing you to cry out, tears forming in your eyes.

Oh, you had fucked up, you fucked up bad!

Before you have any time to register what’s going on, you feel the velvety smooth skin of both their cocks against you. Before Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back, Suguru halts his hand before you. You stare at him, open, confused as to what he wants, until he flatten it out just below your chin.

“Spit.” He commands, and you oblige.

Satoru follows his lead, turning your head to face his hand, which is pushed directly in front of you. “My turn, Sweetheart.” You are starting to question your life’s choices and decisions at that moment. But you wanted to act on your own accord and thought you were making the right choice; I know you had to live with the consequences. Satoru hummed as you spat into his open palm. “Well, look at that. She does know how to listen.” That causes butterflies to flutter deep inside your stomach in your pussy as you listen to them stroking themselves with your spit.

“Too bad you didn’t listen to us earlier.”

In an instant, you’re filled with both of their cocks. Suguru is inside you fast and hard, while his white-haired best friend is slightly more gentle. So, push inside the tight ring of your hole. Both men have before kissing and nipping at your skin, allowing you, thankfully, to adjust to their sizes. You’re shaking, forming in the corner of your mouth as you cry softly.

“Holy fuck.” you whisper, eyes rolling back as they continue pushing inside of you.

“Yeah? This is what you needed, Princess?” Suguru asks as he gently begins fucking in and out of your cunt. “Need to put you in your place.”

You whimpered, tilting your head back before rocking against them, not caring about the sting of being so full. Your head spun as your walls twitched around your best friends and lovers. "Y-Yes! Punish me! I’m sorry for being such a bad girl." You cried out before pressing your lips so softly against Suguru’s that your request was barely audible.

Satoru groaned grout as he watched Suguru's eyes roll back. “Yeah, Sweetheart, you need to fuck some sense back into? Because we all know how much of a good girl you are." Suguru nodded in agreement, grunting as he began thrusting a bit faster in and out of you.

You whimpered as you gripped a handful of Suguru's hair, your lips moving against his as you rocked back against Gojo. "M-mmm yes, Toru~ I need that so bad! Fuck me back to my senses, please!!."

Watching his best friend so shamelessly fuck up into you like you were flash had him growling. He swapped your ass before pressing his cock further inside of you, stretching you out. "Don't worry, baby, we'll put you back in your place, won’t we, Suguru?”

“Fuck yeah, we will.” Suguru huffed out as he nipped and sucked at your neck, marking you up, so there would be no doubt who you belonged to when you left the basement. “We’ll make sure to get those senses back in line.”

You felt dizzy as both your boyfriends were fucking into you as fast and as hard as they could, not giving you a break in the slightest. They were treating you like the brat you had been all night. "I-I feel so full." You said in a begging tone. "Toru feels good! Fuck!” Suguri looked up at you with a guttural growl as he grabbed your thighs, driving his cock up inside you.

"Princess~ are tot nnngh so good for your daddy’s, the rest of the night?~" Suguru growled in your ear before pulling back to watch the blissful expression on Satoru’s face as he fucked you hard.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it hard as you nod. Gasping as Satoru nipped and suckled at your shoulders. "Y-Yeah~ I can be a good girl for my daddies!!" Your eyes watered at the dual and rough sensation of being so full and fucked mercilessly. “I'll be good! I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

Suguru groaned as he felt Satoru thrust in and out with him, their cocks pressed up against each other through your thin walls. Making it feel good for all of you. You cried and begged for more. Finding this double penetration is less like a punishment and more like a reward for you. For a second, you thought maybe you should act up more from now on. Both of them picked up on your pleasure, and they chuckled as they pressed kisses all over you before starting a pace that they both immediately picked up on, their cocks plunging into you desperately.

It wasn’t soft at all. It was fast and hard, and they were fucking you as hard as they could. You can barely handle it anymore as you grab onto Suguru’s shoulders. "Oh fuck~ d-daddies!!" your pussy and ass throbbed around them, lips pressed together, as she cried out. “G-Getting close!” Both groaned loudly as you continued to throb. They sped up, growling and moaning as they rut up against each other.

"Do you even deserve to cum?" Suguru panted, a dark brow cocked.

"Yeah, maybe we should just edge you all night,” Satoru added, smirking as you made a cute little sound of protest, which made his eyes roll back.

“N-No! Please, I’ll be good! Let me please, please!!”

“What do you think, Satoru?”

“Hmm, I don't know, Suguru.”

You whimper, and it’s so pathetic and weak but also cute at the same fucking time. “Please!!” Tears stream down your cheeks as you scream for them to show mercy. And seeing those tears ruin the perfect makeup you had worked so long on is what they were waiting for.

“Cum for us,” Suguru growls, losing all of his control as he fucks you deeper and harder, bruising your cervix almost.

“Cum on, Sweetheart~ cum for us, baby!”

You screamed in pleasure as you came hard. Squirting on Suguru as you convulse around Satoru. Your dark-haired boyfriend in maroon scrubs groaned needly, his hips stuttering as he felt his load fill you up; his head was thrown back, and all he could focus on was your sweet tight pussy. While Satoru, on the other hand, was fucking feral as he slammed into your ass a few more times before growling, nearly roaring out loud in pleasure, as he gripped your hips, slamming home one last time before cumming inside your ass.

Time to stop as the three of you lay there, panting heavily, recovering from the intensity of your orgasms. But for your boyfriend, don’t stop as nearly long as it stops for you because, in an instant, you’re flipped onto your back. You blink several times, trying to process what’s going on as your afterglow fades.

“W-What are you—nngh!!” you arch off the sofa as Suguru positions and stuff between your legs, instantly eating your pussy out. “Fuck!!” you fingers, tangle, and strands of hair as Satoru wraps his long, pretty fingers around your neck, gently, squeezing off your air supply. “Haaah~ fuck Toru?”

“Or did you seriously think a little double penetration was gonna be your punishment?” he laughed right in your face, and it was full of humor and darkness that had your legs closing around Suguru’s head. “Ohh, sweetheart, you’re in for a long fucking night.”

“But you’re in good hands with us,” Suguru adds before flicking his tongue over your clit. “Trust us~ we’re doctors for tonight, princess.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

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niallsgoldhoop · 10 months ago

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CHANNING

a harry styles one shot seven thousand words cw - sexual content, alcohol, harsh language, spitting, spanking, choking,

“I can’t believe you almost missed this.” Looking over at me, the dark eyes of my closest friend shine under the overhead lights. “I mean, come on— It’s Harryween.”

Using my pinky to perfect the edge of the color as I look in the mirror, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay well I couldn’t let this costume go to waste.”

“Honestly.” Adjusting the straps of her angel wings, she laughs. “It’s perfect.”

Tucking a lock of wavy copper hair behind my ear, the green foliage sewed to the leather top last minute contrasts against my porcelain skin in the best way.

As soon as the decision was made— the costume just happens to fall into place.

It took me less than a day to buy the ivy from a local craft store along with the needle and thread. Deep in the back of my closet there was a black leather corset, the kind that fastened in a line of delicate hooks up the front, one that pushed my breasts up even higher than normal. Pairing that with the black leather skirt that hit the middle of my thighs seemed like the only option that made sense.

Less than two hours sitting on my couch and watching Succession later and all of the ivy had been sewn into place. After a little maneuvering I even managed to turn the broad, verdant colored leaves to a makeshift garter for each of my thighs.

Standing here in this bathroom and looking at my reflection, the extra ivy twisting from the top of the high topped canvas sneakers on my feet, I can’t help but smile at how good it looks snaking over my toned calves and thick thighs.

Poison Ivy.

“We better get down to the pit before it gets too crazy.” With a wide smile on her face, I laugh along with her as her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me along. “If we’re lucky we can get close to the barricade.”

Staying close behind her, the two of us manage to squeeze through the sea of people, finding a spot in the pit good enough that we would be able to get a decent view.

I’d been to plenty of shows before but it felt like nothing compared to the pit at a Harry Styles show.

Even as the show eventually starts, it’s clear that everyone got the memo to dress up and seeing the man of the hour— I’m so glad this is where I ended up.

The way he looks tonight should be illegal.

The way he’s looking at me?

Criminal.

Up on the stage, I make eye contact with him again as he passes by, my body heating under his gaze for what feels like the millionth time.

“God, he keeps looking at you!” The girl with two boas and a pink cowboy hat next to me says, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

I feel my lips as they turn into a smirk, raising my eyes back to the stage to see him in front of me again.

Being so close to the barricade was an accident. Somehow, someway we managed to make out way closer and closer as the night went on. Dancing with everyone around us all night has been the best part of the show.

Well… That and seeing Harry dressed in the most delicate and detailed costume.

A clown with the prettiest cream fabrics and lace along with the most perfect moon and stars offsetting the lighter colors with their darkness. Even his cheeks have the rosiest hue— complete with little pearl drops along his cheeks and above his brows.

Nothing too scary, but something just sexy enough.

As he plays the song everyone longs to hear, this time when lyrics roll off of his heart shaped lips in front of me, there’s no mistaking it.

‘And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you —‘

Eyes set on mine, he brings the tip of each finger to his flattened tongue, a tease of how he would certainly be able to please between the sheets.

Rolling my eyes as my best friend grabs my arm, her fingers pressing into the bare skin of my bicep, I find his gaze lingering before he moves on — deciding to entertain the other side of his stage before making his exit.

It feels like the scene of a documentary as the end of the show finally unfolds and people make their way from the stadium, a mass of people all looking for something to get them as high as the feeling Harry Styles gives them.

Laughing on the way out, I give the longest hugs that I can manage before slipping out into the night to find the small bar that has always welcomed me on a night like tonight.

A night when I’m not ready to dream quite yet.

Between the way the city never sleeps and the people out for their own version of tricks and treats, it feels like hours before I find what I’m looking for even if it’s not terribly far away from where I started.

Still dressed in the costume I threw together at the last minute, I don’t even find myself caring much about that. People from all across the city are dressed in various Halloween get ups— making it that much easier to blend in.

Even if the majority of my skin feels like it’s on display.

Smiling as I grip the door handle, it’s the large hand that covers mine that makes my heart race.

The anchor tattoo.

The mermaid.

The cross.

Turning on my heel, the same eyes that looked into mine in front of thirty thousand people trace over my face — over my freckles, over my cheekbones… Over my lips.

“It’s you.” Low and raspy, the accent drips off his lips as they turn into a sinister grin.

Rolling my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I watch his eyes follow the movement as I press through the door and let him follow.

“It’s me.”

The bar is small and dimly lit, the best place to come if you don’t want to be found.

I’ve come here for years, a product of begging to be lost.

Turning my back on him, I make my way to the bar and sit on one of the stools, smiling as the bartender makes his way down to me. I can feel Harry’s presence as he slides onto the stool next to me, his thigh brushing against the skin of my thigh that my skirt doesn’t cover.

“Hey, babe.” Leaning over the bar and kissing my cheek, the familiar face behind the bar places a shot glass on the counter before filling it with tequila and placing a lime along the rim, sliding it to me. “How was your night?”

My face turns towards the man next to me, his features sharper in the low light as he studies me carefully before I look away from him with a shrug. “It was okay.”

A laugh falls from his lips as he leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Okay? Is that all you have to say about me?”

“Maybe it is.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I turn to face him, reaching for the shot and taking it, watching Harry as his eyes focus on my lips where I taste the lime. “Why? Are your feelings hurt?”

Catching the attention of the person behind the bar, those mossy eyes hold mine as he orders. “Can I please have four shots of tequila?”

“You alright with this guy, Chan?” Looking between the two of us, his eyes narrow in Harry’s direction.

I laugh. “We’re good. You can pull your best friend shit somewhere else.”

Rolling his eyes, he pours the shots out for the two of us. Leaving a small bowl of salt and limes before making his back to the other end of the bar.

“Chan?” Harry’s voice is rich and smooth, just like you always hear about. “Is that short for Chandler?”

I shake my head as I bring my hand up and flatten my tongue before running it across the back of my hand, eyes locked on his. “No, it’s not.”

“Are you going to tell me?” Watching my every move, his green eyes watch as I pinch salt between my fingers and let it fall to my skin.

“Should I?” Once again, I flatten my tongue across the same spot and taste the salt before picking up the small glass of liquor, tipping it back and letting it burn down my throat. “What’s in it for me if I do?”

Tension unlike I’ve ever known settled between us.

Somewhere my brain tells me to be careful, but the reckless part of me says that sometimes things are just meant to happen.

The odds of running into a man like him are practically zero. Yet here I am with flushed skin from the warmth of his proximity.

I reach for the lime but Harry beats me to it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and pressing the acidic fruit to my bottom lip, eyes begging for me to open for him.

“Suck.”

Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I flick my tongue across the broad side of the lime before wrapping my lips around it and following the simple instructions.

“So you do know how to listen.” Harry pulls his hand away from me before dropping the fruit back into the empty shot glass.

Tilting my head back, I laugh.

Pressing my hand on his thigh and leaning forward, this time my lips brush against his ear. “I only listen when I feel like it.”

“Hmm.” He hums as he leans back, eyes looking over my body. “Do you feel like listening tonight?”

I shake my head as he reaches for my hand and pulls me in close, his eyes burning through me as his tongue darts out and presses to my skin along my forearm. Holding me in place and using his other hand, he easily sprinkles the salt along my heated skin before flattening his tongue and tasting it.

My breath hitches in my throat as his fingers tip the glass back, taking the lime and holding it out for me. Taking the hint, I bite onto it and lean towards him letting him take it from me with a smug grin on his face. His lips brush against mine for only a moment before he leans away from me, sucking the juice out of the fruit to chase the bitter taste of the liquor. “Come on, tell me your name.”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Squeezing his thigh, I brush my lips against the base of his throat, smiling when I feel him swallow thickly.

“And what’s that?” Gripping my chin, Harry tilts my head backwards and grins at me, his notorious bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.

I roll my tongue along my bottom lip, watching as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You keep staring at my lips like you want them to do something.”

“Yeah?” His grip on my chin tightens. “What if I want to put them to work?”

I lick my bottom lip as my breathing shallows, giving Harry the opportunity to press his thumb into the small bowl of salt and brush it along my bottom lip. “I’d say you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t made a move yet.”

Harry’s eyes darken as he leans in, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip and tasting the salt. Reaching for one of the last two shots that he ordered, I watch as he pours the liquid into his mouth before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip in a silent request.

Running my tongue along my lower lip and opening my mouth for him, I can’t even be bothered to be surrounded by other people or the sound that comes from the back of my mouth when he spits the liquor onto my waiting tongue.

Grabbing the lime and holding it against the skin of my throat, I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that falls from my lips when he squeezes the wedge and his warm tongue catches the juice as it rolls down the column of my throat as I swallow.

“That’s right… Swallow for me, pretty girl.”

I can barely register his words before his lips are on mine and I can taste the flavor on his tongue as it finds mine, one of his hands sliding back into the waves at the nape of my neck and the other slipping just under the hem of my skirt and past the dark leaves of my costume.

He kisses me hard and with no abandon, as if he wants nothing more than to devour me. Leaning closer to him and hooking my finger into the waistband of his pants, I moan lightly when his teeth drag across my bottom lip.

“I need to get you alone.” He mumbles, his hand sliding along the inside of my thigh as his fingertips dance across my skin. “Need you on your knees while I watch those lips wrap around me.

I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking my skin. “There’s a private bathroom in the office— fuck, down the hall.”

Leaving the last shot, Harry takes my hand and pulls me towards the hallway that leads us in the right direction. With his arms wrapping around my body from behind, once we stop just long enough for me to punch in the code for the keypad I can feel him hard and ready behind me.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take you right fucking here.” Nipping my earlobe, Harry plays with the hem of my skirt as his hand grips my throat and turns my head to the side, giving him more access. “How many ways are you going to let me fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Fuck.” Punching the last number into the keypad, when it beeps twice and I turn the handle, it opens easily.

We barely make it into the room and slam the door before Harry turns on me, pressing my body into the door and pressing his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place.

His mouth is on mine in a messy and hungry kiss all while his hands take their time exploring my body. From my breasts to my ass, not one place goes unnoticed by his skilled hands.

“This fucking costume.” Bringing the skin at the base of my throat between his teeth only to soothe it with his tongue, I shiver when he drags his finger along the top of the ivy, digging behind it enough to trace my skin. “People think that it’s so bright on stage and that I can’t see, but I do — I fucking see everything.”

Kissing under my jaw, his hands work the hooks that line the front of the top, one by one. “Tell me what you saw, Harry.

“You want to know?” Dragging his tongue across the swell of my breasts, I reach up and run my nails across his scalp, making him moan. “I saw you, dressed in this—“ Releasing the last button and letting the top of the corset fall to the floor, Harry cups both of my breasts and squeezes them, pinching each nipple at the same time. “I watched you dance, seeing your perfect ass sway from side to side like you didn’t give a single fuck that I was on that stage.”

Dropping down, Harry runs his tongue across the sensitive peak a moment before taking it between his teeth, pulling back enough to make me gasp. “I didn’t— I was more of a Niall girl—”

“Beautiful and bratty, huh?” His fingers find my throat as I smile, pressing into my skin just enough that my lips part on an exhale from the rush. “The only name that's going to come off your lips tonight is mine.”

“You seem so—.” My thoughts all but disappear when I feel Harry reach down and slip his hand under the tight material of my skirt after tracing the edge of the garter along my thighs.

Taking my nipple back into his mouth and teasing, he pulls back to look at me as his knuckle presses into my clit over the fabric of my underwear. “I seem so what, Chan? You won’t even tell me your name yet here you are — dripping down the inside of your thighs for me.”

“So full of yourself.” I finally get out. “Maybe you really are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

Pushing the fabric aside, Harry doesn’t even pace himself, sliding two fingers deep inside of me and making me cry out as his thumb circles my clit with so much pressure it borders pain. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Harry—“ I moan.

Curling his fingers, I feel like my body is on overdrive as he works an orgasm out of my body quicker than even I’ve been able to do it. . “Come on my fingers for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

Reaching out and gripping his shoulders, I can see the dark evergreen of his eyes just on the rim of his blown out pupils under the lights as his breath comes out shallow, the muscles under his skin flexing as he works me even harder through my orgasm.

Once my body loses all of the tension I tip forward into Harry’s arms with a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah? That good?” He smirks as he wraps my hair around his fist. Once, twice. “Chan, I need to ask you something.”

I nod, my eyes the only things he’s focused on. “Now you want to ask questions?”

“I’m serious.” His nose brushes mine before he places a soft kiss to my lips, a complete contrast to the way he just coaxed a release from my body. “I need to know that if you don’t like something or you want me to stop that you’ll tell me, okay?”

I nod, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, taking my time to enjoy the way his tongue feels moving with mine. “I promise.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes burn into my features looking for any sign of hesitance.

“I’m sure.” Getting impatient, I nip his bottom lip. “Now, are you going to fuck me or stand here and be a gentleman all night? Which one is it?”

“Such a fucking mouth on you.” Flexing his hand in my hair and pulling tighter, there’s no option but for me to sink to my knees as Harry guides me. “I hope you know how to use it for more than just your attitude.”

Sitting back on my heels, I lick my lips. “Only one way to find out.”

“Go on then.” Nodding towards his straining cock beneath the fabric of his pants, he waits for me to undo the button. “Let me watch you choke on my cock so that you can’t talk back to me.”

When my hands finally free him, I whimper at the same time Harry’s groan fills the small office. Leaking with precome, I flick the tip of my tongue to collect the pearly drops.

“Pinch my thigh if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Using his hand that doesn’t still have my hair wrapped around his fist, he cups my jaw and runs his thumb across my cheek as I nod. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me.”

Taking Harry into my mouth, I wish I could take a picture of how he looks from this angle. His head tilts back as a moan curves around his lips, I swear to god I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. Pushing his hips forward slowly, I hollow my cheeks as I use my tongue to feel every single ridge and vein he has to offer me. My hands rest on his thighs as he drops his head down and meets my gaze.

“I’m going to go harder, is that okay?” With his cock still in my mouth, I nod. “Good fucking girl, good girl.”

Harry pushes his thighs even deeper, groaning at the feeling of his cock sliding down the back of my throat and making the muscles constrict around him from the intrusion. It feels like so much pressure and not enough at the same time as he repeats the action. Tears form in my waterline as I choke over and over, the tears spilling out onto my cheeks.

“See how good you're taking my cock down your pretty little throat?” Sliding his hand from my cheek, I moan around him as his hand rests across my throat. “Fuck, are you going to swallow for me?”

I choke once more, nodding.

“Good.”

It’s one word that precedes his release, one that I make good on my promise and swallow every drop of.

Once Harry pulls back, I take a deep breath and look up to him for only a moment before he pulls me to my feet and spins us around. Lifting me up and sitting me onto the desk, stepping between my legs and tracing his fingers over the edges of the ivy still wrapped around me.

Instantly his lips are on mine, groaning at his own tastes as he reaches between my legs and pushes the material of the leather skirt up, his fingers finding the sensitive nerve at the apex of my thighs as my hips roll forward to meet the friction.

“Are you this wet for me?” Lips ghosting over mine, his fingers find my nipple, pinching. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, please.” I say, looking into his eyes as he brings his fingers up, smearing the arousal across my bottom lip before kissing me again.

It’s impossible not to feel crazed as his hands fall to my thighs and push up my skirt, watching as it bunches up around my hips. “Lay back for me.”

Placing his hand in the center of my chest, I fall back onto the desk and whimper when I feel his warm lips leaving lingering kisses along the inside of my thighs.

“Look at you, so willing to let me do whatever I want with you tonight. I don’t even want to unwrap this pretty package you’ve put on for me.” His breath ghost across my center, the anticipation making me feel like I could explode at any minute. “I guess I got lucky— finding you on a night where you want to listen. A night where you want to be told what to do. Am I right?”

Harry doesn’t give the time to formulate an answer, his tongue immediately pressing into my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The action takes me by surprise as my back arches off the desk and my hands search for anything to hold onto.

Dragging patterns across the nerve, I cry out his name as he devours me like he’s never done before. As he releases my clit, his tongue finds my entrance and makes a languid path through my arousal before reaching the place I want him the most.

Up and down.

Side to side.

The stimulation makes my thighs shake as he tugs my hips toward him until my ass hangs off the desk and he pulls my dripping cunt even further into his face.

“Harry, fuck.” My hands flip, nails digging into the wood of the desk no doubt leaving marks. “Right there, fuck. I’ve never— never been so close so fast—“

Pushing myself up to my elbows, I let my head roll back as Harry rolls my clit between his teeth before pulling back, delivering a harsh slap to my outer thigh.

“Do you want to come for me?” Pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee, he raises a brow in my direction and smirks when I nod. “If you want to come for me— if you’re going to scream my name— you’re going to watch me as you do it. You’re going to watch me devour you like my last meal, do you understand?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod, resisting the urge to roll my head back when he immediately finds my clit and brings two fingers to my entrance, pushing them in and finding my g-spot.

“Harry.” His name falls off my lips like a prayer as he keeps his eyes on mine. “Please, please let me come. I need it, I—

I feel it as my body gives into the pleasure Harry so willingly gives.

My back arches, my breast pushing up into the air and not even a sound is able to pour from my mouth. Reaching out to grasp something and knocking a cup of pens onto the floor behind me, I cry out.

“Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” Standing up, Harry looks down at me as he fists his cock in his hand. “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”

“Condom?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

Harry reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling one out and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on his length. “Tell me what you want? Hard? Soft?”

“Give me what nobody else can, don’t fucking hold back.” I grit out, feeling him run his cock along my clit. “Prove to me that you can fuck as good as everyone thinks you can.”

Harry smiles down at me only a moment before thrusting his hips forward, burying himself as deep as possible, making me scream out for him. “How’s that for a start? You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Harry!” I cry. “I need it just like that, so deep.”

Pulling his hips back, Harry leans over to kiss me as he thrusts again, the power behind it pushing the desk forward an inch. “Yeah? You like feeling like this? Feeling so fucking full that you can’t stand it. Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well, so fucking well.”

“You’re so big, shit.” I moan, my head lolling to the side as his hands spread across my waist and grip me before slamming into me. “God. It feels so— so fucking good.”

“You can take it.” Harry moans above me, his eyes going back and forth between my face to where he disappears inside of me, watching as I take every inch of him. “It feels like this was made for me. So tight, so warm.”

“Please, I need more—“

At my words alone, Harry pulls out and pulls me off the desk and turns me around. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bends me over the desk before pushing my skirt back up around my waist and grips the waistband to hold me in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” Peering at him over my shoulder, I open my mouth on a breathless moan when his hand cracks across the left side of my ass — quickly followed by the right. “Did you need me to fuck you from behind so I could spank you like this? Huh?”

I feel Harry as he slowly pushes his hips forward, filling me. Listening to his moans as they bounce off the walls, my own whimpers mix with the sound. Gripping my hips, he takes his time as he works so slow — each inch more agonizing than the last before his hips press against my ass.

“Are you going soft on me back there?” Looking at him over my shoulder, I smirk when fire flashes behind his eyes. “Is the guy from the bar all of a sudden gone?”

Harry rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before raising his hand and delivering a harsh slap, one that’s sure to leave his handprint behind.

“I know you fucking like that, don’t you? You’re squeezing my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.” Fingers digging into my hips, I moan when he pulls me back onto his cock and buries himself even deeper. “Tell me — tell me I'm the best you’ve ever had.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to ground myself as Harry brushes against my g-spot with every single thrust, the pull in the base of my spine getting so strong that I don’t know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

“I’ve neve been fucked like this.” I cry. “Nobody has ever, ever made me feel so fucking good.”

My eyes roll back as Harry presses his fingers against my clit and works them in time with his trusts, making me push up onto the tips of my toes in search of the release that isn’t far off.

“Like that, oh my god.” Panting, I meet him thrust for thrust as he fucks me harder and harder. “I'm so close.”

“Come on pretty poison girl, soak my cock for me.” Gripping the back of my neck, Harry presses me into the desk and gives me everything he has until my body gives up, releasing around him. “Fuck. you feel so good when you come around me like that. So damn good.”

Slowing his rhythm, Harry sweeps my hair off of my back and leans over me, pressing kisses up the curve of my spine. “Harry.”

“Yes?” His voice is soft as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You are incredible.”

“One more.” The words fall from my lips even though I know that I'm so fucked, that I know I won’t last much longer. “I want one more.”

Stopping his movements, I feel Harry chuckle. “You think you can handle me again?”

“I want to see you.” I say, my eyes darting toward the door of the bathroom. “Let me watch you come undone over me.”

Harry grins as he pulls out, the loss of him more than I expected. “I never would have guessed the woman in the crowd would be able to fuck me so well.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate people, Harry.” I walk in front of him, listening to the way he moans when he sees my own release dripping down the inside of my thighs. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck.” Running his hand through his curls. He looks freshly fucked and I can’t wait to finish him. “Let me see you.”

Stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light, the sleek and modern design is perfect. Turning, Harry steps close and finds my lips with his, taking his time to kiss me as his hands once again wander my body.

When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I let my head tilt back. “Come on. Give me what I want.”

“So fucking needy.” Harry responds, turning me around and pinning me against the counter. “Bend over, you pretty slut.” Pressing my ass out and shaking it from side to side, I cry out when Harry strikes his palm across each cheek. “How many?”

The tone in his voice makes me moan. “Fuck.”

“I said—“ Cracking down his palm again, he steps up behind me, pushing just his tip inside of my throbbing center. “How many.”

“Until you think I’ve had enough.”

I arch my back when he thrusts forward, his hand connecting with my ass even harder. “What if I never get enough. huh?”

“Harry—“

“What if I'm starting to think one night isn’t enough for me?” He thrusts so deep and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good, I clench around him. “Fuck, when you grip my cock like that I never want to leave — I could fuck you all damn night.”

I moan as I meet his gaze in the mirror, looking at the tattoos on his arms as he slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back onto his cock. “Don’t say that.”

“What? Don’t say that I want you?” Bringing his palm against my skin, his gaze locks on mine. “This— fuck, this isn’t normal.”

“What?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and letting my head fall forward. “What isn’t—”

“Feeling like this after one night.” Thrusting into me so hard that I scream, I feel tears in my eyes over the way my body feels ready to give into him again. “I’ve never had sex like this, never fucked anyone this good.”

I let my head fall to the side as my cheek presses against the cool counter, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the small room. “That’s because you've never been with someone like me before.”

“Fuck—“ Harry is relentless as he searches for his release. “I need you to come for me again, please.”

Begging me, his eyes are hazy as he looks at me, gaze looking with mine until with one thrust, my body shatters around his. “Harry!”

“Oh, shit—“

I watch as his head rolls back and his body stills for just a moment before his hips slowly guide in and out of me, riding us through the orgasms we’ve given each other.

“There you go, pretty girl.” Running his hands up and down my back. I take a deep breath. “You’re so fucking good. So good, Chan.”

I take a deep breath as I try to center myself. “Harry, that was—“

Resting his forehead between my shoulder blades, his warm breath skates across my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like that when I saw you tonight, the woman dressed with ivy across her body— that the vines would wrap around me and pull me in.”

“I don’t know why you’re the surprised one.” I say, wetting my lips. “You’re the one that showed up here. How?”

Harry pulls out, a whimper falling from my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t know… I wanted to get a drink somewhere where I wouldn’t feel like Harry Styles — I wanted to go somewhere small and local.”

“And you ended up here?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.

Grabbing a hand towel, Harry presses a kiss to my temple before running it under warm water and hoisting me onto the counter, laughing as I wince.

“I ended up here.” He smiles as he reaches his hand between my legs, kissing me when I gasp as he runs the warm cloth over my sensitive clit.

We both look at each other and it’s almost like Harry can’t help it when he leans down to kiss me, taking his time as his hands come up to cup my cheeks.

“Let’s get you dressed, okay?” He speaks the words against my lips but makes no move to let me off the counter to grab my top. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

I laugh. “Come on, we have to get out of here before someone comes in.”

“I hope they do.” kissing down the side of my neck, Harry rests his forehead against my collarbone. “I need everyone to know I was with you — that you’ve been fucked you harder than you ever have in your life.”

Resting my hand in the middle of his chest, I push him backwards and hop off the counter on shaky legs, Harry laughing as he rests his hands on my hips to guide me back into the office.

“Here, let me help you.” It’s a sweet gesture to see a man like him help me back into my top, watching as he uses all of his concentration to make sure every hook gets fastened properly while he doesn’t disturb the leaves.

“Thank you… For tonight.” I say, looking over his features. “I really had a good time.”

Harry smiles and brushes a lock of hair from off my face. “I did too.”

I give him one last smile, reaching for the door handle.

Before I turn it, Harry reaches for my hand, turning me and pressing me into the door one last time, finding my lips with his own.

Unlike most of the kisses tonight, this one is so slow, so gentle.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to be able to see you again — I don't know what my brain is doing to me, but I just know that I need it.” The look in his eyes is so full of hope, so soft. “I’ll understand if you say no.”

“Here.” I hold my hand out, hoping he gets the hint.

When he does, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. I easily put my name and number in before giving it back to him, watching his lips curl up with a grin.

“Channing?” Looking from his phone to me, I smile as my hand grips the doorknob and finally push it open.

I wink at him as I step out into the hall. “It’s me.”

He steps forward and grips my hip one last time. bringing his lips down to mine.

“It’s you.”

💖

#harry #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles fandom #harry fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fine line #harry styles fic #one direction #harrys house #fine line #smut #romance #tequila #one d #oneshot

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cheriewony · 8 months ago

Text

boo, you whore — huh yunjin

genre; smut, smut with plot

pairing; mean girl!yunjin x fem!reader

warnings; mean yunjin, degredation, size kink, strapon use, cunnilingus, face sitting, voyeurism, mentions of filming

note; this is a repost from my old blog (cheriejen) i honestly loved writing this request, want jen to call me a whore and rail me senseless ♡ - would you guys like a pt 2? i was thinking of doing a foursome with the plastics-

minors ++ men, dni

huh yunjin seemed to have spawned her wretched way into this world with a silver spoon in her mouth, wearing perilously tall jimmy choos and a matching pink birkin. this hadn't changed much in university. you had thought that after the horrid interactions the two of you had had back in high school, university was going to be a fresh start.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

whilst yunjin's friends-since-birth miyawaki sakura and kim chaewon were studying elsewhere, she had been able to make a new trio of plastics quickly enough. yu jimin had been connected to yunjin's hip since she had stepped onto campus. she was the life of the party- organising mixers, socials and parties like this very halloween one. jang wonyoung, a fashion major and the titled prettiest girl on campus, had been an obvious choice as the final piece in the highly-respected trio.

just like she had cornered you in the cafeteria in her short little tennis skirts in high school, here she was, in a short pink slip dress that was hardly covering her hot pink lingerie, her glittery lip gloss smudged from an intense makeout session she'd just had with the captain of the university football team. oh, and the bunny ears that had been propped onto her college-blonde hair, almost like an afterthought.

you had learnt that college halloween parties were an excuse to dress slutty the hard way- after showing up, fake blood, teeth and warts as frankenstein's wife to your first halloween party in your freshman year. today, you were wearing the same veil you had to your first party, instead paired with a white front-tie corset, the shortest skirt in your closet and a wash of dewy tint on your lips.

yunjin's lip curled into that smirk she always had in front of you. despite years of witnessing her lip curl in that manner, you still couldn't really understand what it meant. disgust? irritation? amusement?

"who would've thought a little suck up like you would be at one of my parties?"

you hesitated to correct her. this technically wasn't her party- after all, it had been karina who had thrown the party. your lips remained shut; any party huh yunjin actually showed up too soon became her party.

your hesitation was interrupted by yunjin's perfectly manicured hand fastening around your wrist. she ends up tugging you along with one hand, the other hand sneaking another small tray of filled red solo cups on it, continuing to weave neatly through the throngs of drunken young adults before pushing you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind you two.

she can only smile over at your flushed face, how your lips had pursed into pants after clumsily rushing into the bathroom behind her. yunjin props herself onto the bathroom counter top, draining one of the solo cups in one, squealing aloud once she finished.

"actually grew yourself some tits, huh?" she questions, that cheshire-cat grin still tugging at her lips. she steps forward to tug the bow holding the from of your top together loose.

part of you instinctively shielded your now bare skin, cheeks stained red as yunjin chuckled over at you.

"no bra? what a slut."

your cheeks could only get warmer at her words as she pushed you to settle onto the bathroom counter, moving to stand between your legs, lifting your skirt up to get a view of the lacy pink panties you were wearing. she smirked at the sticky patch that was beginning to form between your legs.

"what a fucking whore."

the next view was something you never expected; huh yunjin, propped on her knees as she pushed your panties aside and began to lap at your dripping cunt, playboy bunny ears askew on her halo of blonde hair.

your were obsessed with her. anyone would be with how her tongue teased your clit, drawing long licks against your sweet pussy. all you could do was moan, tugging at wads of blonde hair to force you closer, only causing her to bite at your inner thighs.

"do you know how much that stylist cost me? don't you fucking dare."

so you don't, your hands fiddling with your tits instead, rubbing the nub of your nipple to make your eyes roll, tongue propped out of your mouth as yunjin continued to lap at your pretty pussy. as soon as your legs begin to roll alongside her licks, she pulls away, lips shining with your wetness.

"it's that easy to get you to cum? fucking slut, bet you've thought about this for so long? what a creep-"

she moves to the side, removing her own clothes, only revealing more perfect curves. she was venus and you were under her spell as she moved out of view to put something on. by the time she arrived back in front of you, you were salivating. the strap on was huge. and glittery pink. obvi.

you immediately drop to your knees, eager to lap and suck at the tip of the dildo but yunjin only scoffs in disgust.

"i don't want your foul mouth anywhere near this. lie down."

and you did. she forces you to lay down as she aligns the pink dildo with your entrance, lubing it down with your own wetness. she slowly pushes in, the two of your moans sync. her hands find purchase on your hips before moving faster, ignoring any of your whines or demands.

"listen here bitch. i make the rules here. all i want to hear from you are those dirty little moans-"

your eyes become glassy, almost doll-like as she does as she pleases, grunting almost animalistically as her thrusts get more incoherent and shaky, your gummy walls tightening around her.

"f-fuck- keep taking me, don't make me stop-"

your whines are pornographic at this point, making your own hips move alongside her thrusts, your thumb teasing your clit as you reach your high. as if a puppeteer had dropped your strings, you collapse onto yunjin, hands gripping past her tits to rest on her shoulders.

yunjin groans in disgust, pushing your weak frame flat onto the counter before taking out her phone, beginning to film your twitching self, your pussy still quivering around her pink cock. you try to cover your face, which clearly doesn't please yunjin one bit. she pulls out in frustration, and grabs her stuff before glaring at you.

"boo, you whore."

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