#crawls on hands and knees gasping and covered in filth
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prompt #26 - you were made to be worshipped, baby - pedro pascal
CW: soft!dom Pedro, body worship, aftercare, oral (f!receiving), praise kink, emotional intimacy, fluff & filth combo 🫧

He had you laid out like a painting.
Sheets pushed down to your knees. Thighs parted. Skin flushed, warm, glowing in the dim light of the bedroom. And Pedro? He was on his stomach between your legs, arms wrapped under your thighs like he was praying there.
Not rushing. Not greedy. Just worshipping.
Your hips bucked when his tongue moved slowly—too slowly—but he kept you pinned with the weight of his forearms, mouth working steady, rhythmic, precise. It wasn’t about how fast he could make you come. It was about you. Every twitch. Every whimper. Every gasp.
He murmured between kisses, hot breath brushing your soaked skin. “Look at you, baby…” “So perfect, fuck…” “You were made to be worshipped, baby.”
You whined his name, fingers tangled in his hair, hips moving despite how hard you tried to stay still. But it was too much. He was too much. Too good. Too gentle. Too Pedro.
And when you came, trembling under his tongue, he didn’t stop—not until you were too sensitive, squirming away, begging for a break.
Only then did he crawl up your body, kissing every inch he could reach—your stomach, your ribs, the underside of your breast, your throat.
“You okay?” he whispered, brushing hair from your face, his voice low and sweet and full of love.
You nodded, dazed, still floating.
Pedro pulled you into his arms, covering you both with the blanket, hand softly rubbing your back. “You’re everything, mi amor. Every part of you.”
He kissed your temple, then your jaw.
“Let’s stay right here,” he mumbled, already pulling you closer, like he couldn’t stand the thought of you being even an inch away. “You need water? A snack? Just say the word, baby. Anything.”
And that was the thing about Pedro. He didn’t just fuck you—he adored you.

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.
choose your prompt! ✧
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fanfics#pedro pascal fics#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal blurbs#pp#x reader#fanfic#imagines#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal cute#ficreq#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal oneshot#pedro pescal one shot#3k celebration#pedro pascal smut#smut#suggestive#cw suggestive
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500 Follower Event Part 3
In My Fantasy
[Hyung Line]
MDNI!!!

Word Count: ~6K i think
Not Proofread
Synopsis: Literally straight p0rn. Hyung Line rails their friend after she says something about them being attractive. Hardly any plot. Oopsies.
WARNINGS: Fivesome, unprotected sex, choking kink, degradation & praise, masochistic themes, nipple play, PARISSSS, oral (f & m receiving), size kink, voyeurism, breeding kink, light restraint, crawling, spanking, “pup”, “daddy”, idk i prolly forgot shit.
NO TAGS DUE TO CONTENT
My Library HERE :)
_________________________
The studio echoed with heavy breathing and soft chuckles. Bang Chan was flat on the mat, shirt soaked and biceps gleaming. Changbin paced slowly, toweling off his neck, sweat running down his temple. Minho leaned against the mirror with that casual, infuriating smirk. Hyunjin stretched in front of you, long hair damp, head tilted, eyes closed.
You were perched on a stack of yoga blocks, watching like an idiot.
Like prey.
“You four are so disgustingly attractive,” you muttered under your breath, not meaning for anyone to hear. “It’s actually unfair.”
The silence was immediate.
You looked up and realized, with icy clarity, that they had.
Chan’s brows rose. Minho blinked slowly. Changbin’s tongue poked at his cheek, like he was fighting a grin. And Hyunjin—Hyunjin just looked straight through you.
“Disgustingly attractive, huh?” Chan finally said, sitting up.
You laughed. Weakly. “Kidding. Just a compliment��”
“Is that so?” Minho’s voice was slow, curious. “Didn’t sound like a compliment.”
You shifted. “Guys—”
“Stand up.”
That was Changbin. No amusement in his tone.
“What?”
“Up. Now.”
There was no teasing in their eyes anymore. Just hunger.
You rose. Slowly.
Minho moved behind you. You felt the warmth of him instantly, his body a threat and a promise all at once.
Hyunjin stayed seated. Watching. Waiting.
“Take off your jacket,” Chan said, voice velvet. “Since you like to comment on how we look, let’s see how brave you really are.”
You hesitated, but your fingers moved. Slowly unzipping your hoodie and shrugging it off.
“Shirt too,” Minho said casually. “All of it. We want you honest.”
You didn’t know why you obeyed.
Maybe it was the way Chan’s eyes were locked on yours.
Maybe it was how Changbin stepped closer, head tilted.
Maybe it was Hyunjin’s soft, delighted whisper: “She’s already blushing.”
You peeled off your shirt. Then your leggings. You were left in just your bra and panties—suddenly far too small under their gaze.
“You’re shaking,” Minho murmured, pressing a hand to your lower back. “Scared, sweetheart?”
You swallowed. “A little.”
“Good.” Chan rose to full height. “You should be.”
Hyunjin finally stood, hair falling over one shoulder. “She’s so cute like this. Look at her. Trying to pretend she’s not dripping.”
“I think we should test that,” Changbin muttered, reaching out and trailing a finger down your thigh. He brought it to his lips. Sucked.
Your knees buckled.
“You like being watched?” Minho asked softly in your ear.
You nodded.
Hyunjin smirked. “Then you’re going to love what happens next.”
⸻
You were laid out across the mat like a canvas, and they took turns painting with you.
Minho had you first—pressed against the mirror, your back arched, his fingers circling your clit while you whimpered and bit your lip.
“Too much?” he whispered.
“N-no—”
“Then take it.”
Chan sat cross-legged nearby, lazily stroking himself while watching. “God, she’s beautiful like this.”
Changbin knelt between your thighs and pulled your panties aside with one thick finger. “Wet doesn’t even cover it. She’s fucking soaked.”
You gasped when he licked you—slowly, possessively. He ate you like a man who hadn’t tasted sweetness in days.
Minho held your arms behind your back, whispering filth in your ear: “You think we don’t know how badly you wanted this? You’re not subtle, baby.”
Hyunjin, meanwhile, just watched. Shirt off, chest glowing in the studio lights. He touched himself only when you made noise.
Which was often.
⸻
They didn’t let you come.
Not yet.
When you were trembling, teary-eyed, and wrecked with need, they pulled away.
Chan tapped his thigh.
“Over my lap.”
You obeyed, draping yourself over him.
He spanked you once. Not hard—just enough to make you gasp.
“You talk reckless,” he murmured, rubbing the mark with care. “You want us to treat you like a mouthy little slut?”
“Yes,” you whispered.
He spanked you again. Harder.
“Then be one.”
Minho bent over your shoulder, licking your jaw. “Say it again. Say we’re disgustingly attractive.”
You moaned, dizzy with heat. “You’re so—so disgustingly attractive—”
Hyunjin’s voice was silk. “Good girl.”
⸻
They made you crawl.
From one to the next.
You took Hyunjin into your mouth while Minho played with your chest, whispering praise and obscenities like poetry.
Changbin guided you next, thick cock sliding down your tongue, moaning when you gagged and drooled.
Chan sat back, smiling darkly. “That’s it, pup. Open wider. You’ve got four of us to please.”
Hyunjin grabbed your hair, hips stuttering. “Fuck, just like that. You love being used, don’t you?”
You nodded, mouth full.
Minho whispered, “We’re gonna ruin you.”
And for some twisted, perfect reason—
You wanted them to.
⸻
You didn’t know how long they passed you between them.
Time melted into moans, groans, and whispered filth—your body no longer yours but theirs, shared and used, and you wanted it that way. Craved it.
Minho pulled you into his lap next.
You barely had a moment to adjust before he slid into you without warning, thick and unforgiving. The stretch made you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Still so fucking tight,” he hissed, his hands gripping your waist. “You like being filled, pup? Hm? Like riding your hyungs one after the other?”
You nodded, barely able to form words. “Y-Yes. Please. More.”
“More?” he taunted. “You want more? You can barely handle me.”
Behind you, Hyunjin traced his fingers up your spine, slowly, almost lovingly—until he grabbed your hair and yanked your head back just enough.
“Open that pretty mouth,” he said, voice silky and laced with command.
You obeyed instantly. His cock was already hard, flushed dark, and he slid it past your lips with practiced ease.
“There’s a good girl,” Hyunjin sighed, thrusting slowly at first. “Fuck. Warm little throat. Let me hear you gag.”
Minho’s pace beneath you increased—his cock dragging deliciously deep while Hyunjin’s length tapped the back of your throat. Your sounds were messy, muffled by pleasure and dick.
You were being fucked at both ends, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close.
Chan and Changbin stood nearby, watching, cocks in their fists, dark eyes raking over your ruined form.
“She’s perfect,” Chan muttered. “Didn’t I say she was built for this?”
“Look at her,” Changbin added. “Dripping from both ends. Taking two cocks and still begging.”
Hyunjin groaned. “I can feel her moaning around me. She’s loving it.”
Minho’s fingers slid between your legs, circling your clit fast and dirty.
“You wanna come, baby?” he asked, panting. “Then do it. Right now. So we can really ruin you after.”
You shattered.
Back arched, vision white, your scream was swallowed by Hyunjin’s cock as your body convulsed around Minho’s. He groaned, hips stuttering, then came inside you with a low growl.
“Fuck—there it is. So good for me.”
Minho pulled out just in time for Hyunjin to guide you down to your knees, pumping faster into your mouth until he came across your tongue with a long, satisfied sigh.
“Swallow it, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Don’t waste it.”
You obeyed—throat sore, chest heaving, body shaking.
Chan clapped once.
“My turn.”
⸻
He bent you over the low bench. You barely had the strength to hold yourself up—but that didn’t matter.
He wanted you limp.
You felt him press to your entrance, hot and thick. Then, without preamble, he thrust inside.
Your gasp turned to a sob—he was deep. Deeper than the others. Hips slamming into your ass with ruthless force.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Chan grunted, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other tangled in your hair. “We’d make you eat those words.”
“You said disgusting, right?” he laughed breathlessly. “I’ll show you disgusting.”
Changbin moved to face you, cock twitching. He grabbed your hand and wrapped it around him.
“You’re not done,” he growled. “Make me come too, pup.”
You jerked him fast, sloppily, wrist burning, tears falling freely as Chan drove into you like he was trying to leave a mark on your soul.
“She loves it,” Hyunjin said softly, from somewhere behind you. “Look at her. Cock-drunk, used, trembling—and still begging.”
Chan’s hand wrapped around your throat—not tight, just enough pressure to send sparks dancing behind your eyes.
“You gonna take my cum too, baby?” he hissed against your ear. “Gonna let us all fill you?”
You moaned—high, helpless.
“Yes—yes, I want it—I want all of you inside me—”
“Fuck—she’s serious,” Changbin muttered, jerking faster in your fist. “She wants to be bred.”
“You want to be filled like a good little breeding bitch?” Chan growled.
“Yes—use me, please—”
And he did.
With a final grunt, Chan came hard inside you, hips slamming deep. He held you there, full, shaking, filled to the brim.
He pulled out slowly—watching his release drip down your thighs.
“God, look at that,” he whispered.
Changbin didn’t wait. He pulled you onto your back, shoved your thighs apart, and entered you in one brutal thrust.
You screamed—wrecked, overstimulated, and soaked in filth.
“That’s it,” he hissed, fucking into the mess Chan left. “Gonna make you mine now. Fill you up again.”
Minho knelt beside you and leaned in, licking a tear off your cheek. “You like being broken, sweetheart?”
You nodded through sobs. “I—I love it—I love you—”
Changbin’s hand closed around your throat, just like Chan’s. He fucked you faster. Harder. Like he was chasing the last orgasm you had and wanted to give you ten more.
“I want to see you come again,” he growled. “Squeeze me, baby. Squeeze me like you need it.”
You cried out, body arching, hands clawing at Minho’s arms.
“F-fuck, I’m—”
You came again.
So hard you forgot your own name.
Changbin roared when you clenched around him, emptying himself deep inside you with a curse and a satisfied groan.
⸻
You were nothing but moans and muscle memory.
Covered in sweat, cum, and praise.
They were panting too—filthy and glowing, bodies slick with heat.
Hyunjin kissed your shoulder as you laid there twitching.
“Say it again,” he whispered.
You blinked.
“S-Say what?”
Chan leaned in.
“Say we’re disgustingly attractive.”
You didn’t have a voice left—but you did it anyway.
“You’re… disgusting. You’re perfect. You—ruined me.”
Minho smirked.
“Good girl.”
⸻
Your limbs wouldn’t move.
You lay sprawled on the floor of the practice room, limbs shaking, thighs soaked, throat sore. Every inch of your skin pulsed with overstimulation—your body marked in fingerprints, bites, and the heat of their release.
You could still feel them inside you.
Changbin’s hands on your hips.
Chan’s cock buried deep, the stretch like a brand.
Minho’s voice purring filth into your ear.
Hyunjin’s lips on your throat as you came again and again and again—
“Such a mess,” someone whispered above you.
“You love this, don’t you?” another murmured.
“Say it again,” came the final voice, dark and soft and final.
You opened your mouth—
But the world ripped sideways.
⸻
You gasped awake.
Your body jolted upright in bed, heart hammering like a war drum. Sweat clung to your back. The sheets were twisted between your thighs. Your throat burned.
For a moment, you were still in it.
The scent of sweat. The taste of skin. The phantom ache of being too full.
But you blinked and saw your own bedroom.
Sunlight leaked through the blinds. A soft breeze from the cracked window cooled your skin. Silence.
Your apartment. Not the studio.
You weren’t in Chan’s lap.
Not moaning for Minho.
Not gagging on Hyunjin or stuffed full of Changbin’s cum.
Just you.
Alone.
Heart racing.
A dream.
An impossibly vivid, gut-wrenching, dripping dream.
You sank back into the mattress, eyes wide, hand sliding under the sheet.
You were wet.
Soaked.
And not from sweat.
You exhaled shakily and laughed. “Okay. What the actual fuck.”
⸻
You got up slowly, legs unsteady, body too aware of phantom touches.
Every time you blinked, you saw them.
Minho holding your face, whispering praise between slaps of his hips.
Chan’s lips against your neck, voice like God and sin.
Hyunjin’s fingers in your mouth.
Changbin’s tongue—
You shook your head.
You couldn’t even look at your phone.
And yet, when you finally reached for it, it buzzed instantly.
Group Chat: The Old Men 🤪
Chan: sleep well, baby? 😏
Minho: you moan in your sleep, you know
Hyunjin: dreaming about us again?
Changbin: bet you woke up soaked
Your blood turned to ice.
You stared at the screen.
One hand covering your mouth. One still trembling.
How could they know?
They couldn’t. Right?
You typed a reply—then deleted it. Then typed again.
What the hell is wrong with you all? Did you—did one of you come into my apartment or something?
Three dots.
Then Minho replied:
Minho: maybe we were never gone 😌
Your heart dropped.
Before you could reply again, another message popped up. A voice memo.
You stared at it.
Pressed play.
It was… your voice.
Desperate. Wrecked.
Moaning, “Yes—please—more, Daddy—fill me up—please, I want it, I want all of you—”
You dropped the phone. It landed face down on the bed.
You were shaking now.
It was real.
Or was it?
Had you spoken in your sleep? Had they somehow heard? Was it a prank? Had they really—
No. Impossible.
And yet…
Your body still ached as if it had happened.
You could still feel cum on your thighs.
You could still taste Hyunjin.
A knock on your door made you jump.
You froze.
Another knock. This time lower. Softer.
A voice you swore you only heard in your dream:
“Pup?”
Minho.
“Open the door.”
You didn’t move.
“Unless,” he purred, “you want us to break in… and make you say it again.”
#skz#stray kids#skz fanfic#skz x reader#bang chan#skz smut#hwang hyunjin#seo changbin#lee minho#lee know#changbin#bang chan x reader#stray kids minho#stray kids hyung line
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THAT WAS A COCKBLOCKING ENDING AAH mommy could you pretty please give a continuation to that drabble
To distract everyone from sad life rn. Very much nsfw.
--
He's on his back on the bed, hands pulling you closer by your legs, helping you crawl over his face, knees digging into the mattress below right next to his head.
"I've got the world's best view right now.." he chuckles breathlessly, hands on your thighs, touching the warm skin. "Come down a little- yeah like that.." he eagerly instructs, before he licks up into you, while you brace yourself against the headboard of his bed. He's bought a bigger one a few months ago because you sleep over so much- and soon, it'll be because you permanently stay here with him.
But right now, that's not on your mind, as he moves his head a little to dip his tongue into your core, nose nudging against your sensitive pearl.
Sucking him off always gets you all hot and bothered as well, after all. He's got a nice looking cock, and he sounds even better when you're doing it just right- be it with your mouth, or your hands, or your tits- or your thighs, one of his personal favorites. He's always been quite vocal about how much he likes them, lives to grab them or just run his hands over them. There's no room for insecurity with him.
"Kook-!" You gasp out when he sucks at you, hands moving to spread you out for him better, tip of his tongue drawing circles around your clit before he flattens it, and runs it over. He urges you to move, but you're not sure about that. "No- what if I'll suffocate you?"
"Then I'll die a happy man's death." He laughs, drunk off of the whole energy of it all. "Come on, please! I wanna see you all fucked out, princess." He whines in complaint, and you slowly start to grind over him, earning a happy hum from him below, his piercing on his lower lip feeling a bit odd sometimes.
Slowly, you become more sensitive. More needy.
You don't even notice the way you're using him to get off, his tongue and nose and the way he occasionally sucks just too good to really help you think straight. It's when you near your orgasm that you try and slow down, always a bit hesitant because you tend to become quite loud, but Jungkook isn't having it.
His grip on your upper thighs becomes stronger, pushes you down on him where he gives it his all, licking you up quickly past the edge, making your muscles tremble.
Because he doesn't stop, but instead pushes you further- right into a new race to the finish line.
The moment he realizes you're struggling to hold yourself up, he helps you lay down instead, a hand sloppily wiping his face before he leans in to kiss you, uncaring about the filth of it all. His hand pumps him ready, makes him aim at your core before he slips right in, pace hard and fast right from the start. He's mindless, especially when your mouth falls open and eyes close, hands gripping the sheets above your head while he watches in fascination how your white foamy essence covers the base of his cock, balls slapping against you with every thrust of his hips.
He wants more.
His kisses are all tongue and shared breaths, biting your lip and having you tug on his piercings just because, as he slams himself in deep as he can go. You're seeing stars, quite literally, eyes blind as your orgasm hits you a lot faster than anticipated, causing you to be unable to do anything but whimper out, voice interrupted by his never faltering pace.
And he cums, too, spurting whatever he's got left inside you, breathing heavily as he stays in place for a second, before he moves just a bit, gently this time. You're sweating, both of you are, but he's not ready to call it quite yet, even though his own legs are wet with your most recent peak of pleasure.
You're slurring out his voice, drunk off of it all, as he rocks his hips more slowly, sloppily, dick slipping out every now and then, having to be lead back in by his hand, your core gaping whenever he's leaving it unoccupied. His own cum covers his length, helps in lubrication as the bed rocks, hinges ready protesting loudly.
He'll buy a new bed, who cares.
His body begins to protest, shuddering at his upcoming release, making him uncoordinated as he keeps pushing back in and out, whining out his own pleasure before his hand sloppily rubs over your swollen bud, bringing you a more gentle last release as well, clenching around him as he pulls you in, and falls to the bed next to you, adjusting your legs to stay inside you.
"Koo.. m' all gross.." you whine quietly, but he shuts you up with drunken kisses, hands on your body caressing your skin.
To him, this isn't gross at all. It could never be.
To him, this is love.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#bts smut#bts jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook imagines#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jeon jungkook imagine
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It Had To Be You: Epilogue - Wonderful You
Masterpost PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU
Summary: How would you sum up your love story?
artwork credit @colettebronte
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f) cunnilingus. Err, there is also some swearing and soppy stuff, too.
Word Count: 1.5k
Author's Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. This is the little decorative bow I wanted to wrap up this fic up with. If you've seen the original film, you know there are vox pops between 'chapters' where couples tell their love stories. This is my tribute to/explanation of that in this AU. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. Thank you again for reading this story, I hope you all enjoy this smidge of filth and humour! <3
When his phone lights up and vibrates on the pillow next to yours for the third time, the name HY flashing bright, you reluctantly realise you have to say something.
You slide one hand down under the covers to shake his shoulder lightly. “Ben…. Ben, your phone…” you stutter, not wanting to do anything to stop the wondrous sensations coursing through your body, but concern overrides your want for pleasure.
“I'm doing some of my best work here, you know…” he protests silkily, muffled against your body, curling his tongue around your clit in a way that makes your knees tremble and goosebumps break out over your limbs.
“Ngggg, fuck, I know you are, baby,” you moan, “but this is the third time it’s ringing, and now you’ve got a big text pop-up saying SOS…” you stumble out.
There is a rustling of sheets, and his handsome face appears, glistening with your arousal in the ray of Mediterranean sun that cuts across the bed.
“Whoever is interrupting us better have a damn good reason; they all know this is our honeymoon,” he grumbles, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and crawling up over you, pecking a kiss onto the tip of your nose before reaching for his phone. As he does, it starts vibrating in his hand again.
“What?” he answers gruffly, in the way only siblings ever greet each other.
You watch as he pulls a variety of faces that make you giggle, pinned under him, his erection pressed distractingly into your left thigh.
“Hy…,” he groans after a bit, dropping his forehead onto your sternum. “How does any of this constitute an SOS?” he sighs wearily.
You can tell her answer is sarcastic by the strains of voice you hear from the phone as it's pressed against his ear.
“The answer, I'm sure, is yes, we will, and now, will you please leave us alone? We are busy…” he says pointedly. “...That's entirely none of your business,” he adds curtly after a beat.
You can easily surmise she guessed precisely what you are doing, and you chuckle. Benedict tilts his head up and shoots you a laden smirk that has you scraping your nails over the nape of his neck and into his luscious, thick hair, canting your body up into him and mewling softly as a hint.
“I'm hanging up now…” he warns, appearing to do just that as his little sister is midsentence.
“What does she want us to do?” you query, turning your head to kiss the flexing bicep that carries his weight as he tosses his phone aside.
He shuffles lower, his lips closing around your nipple, sucking insistently, making you arch under him and gasp.
“She wants us to appear in some documentary she is making,” he explains laconically, his fingers wrapping around the dip of your waist as his breath ghosts warm over the saliva he left, pursing his lips and blowing gently, watching your areola pucker under his attention.
You are rapidly losing the ability to give a shit in this moment but decide to get a little more information before you succumb. “What sort of documentary?”
“Couples talking to camera about their love story,” he hums, swapping to give your other breast the same wonderful treatment.
“She wants our story?” you frown distractedly, slightly non-plussed, running your fingertips along the play of his back muscles as he moves.
“Oh, come on darling, even you have to admit it reads like a film script,” he chuckles, rubbing the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast. “Twelve years, broken relationships, friends, not friends, both of us being idiots for entirely too long…” he trails off as he begins to wind his way back down your body, dropping hot kisses onto your diaphragm and belly.
“Oi,” you protest weakly, “I was not an idiot; I was merely cautious…”
“Sure, my love, a cautious idiot,” he amends, pushing your thighs open around his shoulders unseen under the sheets.
“Fair point…” you concede before crying out as he once again unfurls that magical tongue.
—
“How many couples are you interviewing for this?” you ask as Hyacinth fiddles with a microphone that will be out of shot on the coffee table in front of you.
It is three weeks later, and you are sitting on a two-seater sofa in a nondescript warehouse somewhere in Ealing—a digital camera and lots of bright lights trained on you. It all feels slightly unnerving, making you nervously pick at a tiny fleck of lint on your trousers.
“Oh, about ten or twelve, all sorts of ages and backgrounds,” she elucidates, obviously proud of what she is pulling together for her graduate film project.
“Why did you want us?” you inquire, genuinely intrigued.
“Well, your story is bloody fascinating, and I wanted to have at least one love story from my own family,” she explains. “I tried Kate and Anthony, but they bickered the whole time about what the truth of their story is. Then they started the tonsil tennis. It was too weird, even for me,” she shrugs.
“What do you want us to say?” Benedict checks, attempting to smooth his wayward curl of forehead hair that is always there, doing its own thing.
“Just go with the flow. Be truthful. Say whatever comes to mind; we can always go again,” she answers somewhat nebulously, rounding behind the camera as you exchange uncertain looks. “And ACTION!!” she calls suddenly.
“The first time we met, we hated each other,” Benedict begins.
“No,” you immediately interject, “you didn’t hate me; I hated you. The second time we met, you didn't even remember me!” you argue.
“I did, too! I remembered you! I approached you on the train,” he points out. “The third time we met, we became friends,” he smiles, wrapping a hand around your knee and shooting you a loving glance.
“We were friends for a long time,” you adjoin, nodding, before adding honestly, “Aaaaand then we weren't.”
“And then we fell in love,” Benedict drawls, his tone laden with affection. “Three months later, and we are married!” he holds up his left hand, proudly displaying his shiny new wedding ring.
“It only took three months,” you nod in agreement, then pause, “well… twelve years and three months…”
“We had a really wonderful wedding,” he comments, turning and smiling crookedly at you.
“It really was,” you agree, grinning back.
“It was great. We had a band with salsa dancing,” he explains, leaning into you fractionally.
“Yes, lots of salsa dancing,” you concur, hooking your chin onto his shoulder as he turns his head fully toward you, you matching his little knowing smile, wanting nothing more than to draw him into a kiss.
“Ok… CUT!!” Hyacinth calls.
“What was wrong with that?” he checks, reluctantly peeling his gaze from you to his sister.
“Urgh, you are as bad as Anthony,” she rolls her eyes. “Let's try again, but this time, you know, maybe a bit more story and a shade less mushy?” she suggests.
“Mushy?” Benedict echoes, his brow knitting. “How am I supposed to talk about my wife, the love of my life, and not be ‘mushy’?” he appends with air quotes, as if what he just said casually is not the sweetest thing ever… and makes you want to mount him instantly.
“Y/n, stop eye-fucking my brother,” Hyacinth sighs.
It’s your turn to whip around to her and look indignant. “I am not!”
“Please…” she withers, arching a single eyebrow, and you slouch down a little, realising you are being entirely called out.
“Okay, fine. But tell him to stop doing the same,” you mumble.
“Believe me, I’m trying,” she answers, fiddling with one of the lamps trained on you. “Now okay from the top,” she says. “I liked it until you got to the salsa dancing bit. Please, let's not cover that; it's obviously a trigger topic for both of your hormones,” she eye rolls.
“What do you want us to talk about then?” he shrugs.
“Tell me more about the very first day you met,” she proposes, then circles her finger silently to show she’s recording again.
“So it's the last day of university in the depths of Scotland, and both of us are driving to London...” he starts.
“Excuse me, I was driving my car to London; you very much hitched a ride,” you interrupt again.
“Please, it was your mum’s car. And you refused to give me a Malteser,” he disputes, pouting at you.
“Really? It's been twelve years. And still with the Malteser thing? You could have brought your own, you know,” you remonstrate logically.
“And you could have tried not to make me crash into a bus shelter, but here we are…,” he argues back, shooting you a sideways look that is all challenge and heat—it makes you want to strip him bare.
You can't help it; you lean in and capture his lips this time.
“For fuck’s sake, not these two as well,” Hyacinth mutters, head slumping into her hands.
Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton smut#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#it had to be you fic
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Turning Pages
Start of Claude in Husbandry AU!
Past – Next
Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k
Author’s note: Start of Claude in Husbandry AU! Claude is now in the Husbandry AU! OG goes to Kit-williams. She’s amazing, so are all the other people who write/make art/writing in the Husbandry tag. Seriously!
Summary: Claude wakes up, still almost dead on a forest floor on a planet he for sure was not on.
Warnings: Pain, wounds, injuries. Uh… let me know if I need to add any in the tags please.
Claude wakes up with a painful gasp and is more than a little surprised that he’s alive. He had thought as the Xeno scum fell out of the sky that it would crush him to death. He opens his eyes and tries to assess how he’s feeling. Pain- pain, is good and bad, pain is good, which means he can feel that his wounded. Pain is bad, he’s wounded badly enough to feel it. As he slowly looks around with a frown and furrowing of his eyebrows, he doesn’t recognize the flora and fauna of the forest that he’s in. The last thing that he recalls, he was in an open battle field that didn’t have much in the way of forests and bushes, at least the part of the world that he and his squad was fighting in. He starts by cautiously wriggling his fingers and opens, they move easily and without much pain.
His armor, from the alerts he’s getting is broken, wrenched in places from the claws of the Xeno-scum that he had been fighting. Also, his body is badly wounded from the fighting, and getting almost crushed by a falling giant flying Tyranid that had fallen… not at terminal velocity, but it was a giant beast of a Xeno-filth. While he, his brothers, and chapter are taught stealth, they’d been pulled to help another chapter when the Tyranids had attacked, and the losses he’d heard of his vox device for the wounded and fallen of his brothers had him knowing that direct, confrontational battle isn’t what he and his chapter are trained for. He’s covered in blood and gore, his own, and the Xeno’s he’s killed. He sends out a vox call for help, and as he tries to send a message his voice crackles and croaks and he coughs. He wheezes, unfortunately, he must have had his lungs semi-crushed. He’s thankful to be a Primaris Astartes, after all, his healing factor is better than a first born, and he’s still alive.
He closes his eyes and he knows for certainty even if panic is starting to flicker into his hearts. He doesn’t want to die. Not like this, alone, and out of battle. If he’s to die, he wants to die saving base line humans, or his brothers, or in Glorious Combat. Not choking on his own blood with nary an ally or enemy in sight. The cackling and giggling hasn’t started up, usually when his emotions start to slip his hard fought control they become louder and the voices cackle and jabber lies and false honey promises. He’s no apothecary, but he’d been taught basic first aid, as a stealth operative, getting help, even from squad mates was unlikely to happen, at best they wouldn’t be close enough to help, at worst they would ignore his calls for help in order to complete the mission. He slowly shifts himself onto his hands and knees, slowly, carefully as he crawls over to a tree to lean against.
It’s slow going and his vision fades in and out as dark spots speckle across his vision as he wheezes and coughs. He knows what it feels like to be badly wounded, had been trained how to push through the pain and persevere. The Mechanicus was very through in their training of the Primaris Marines, and his Elder Brothers, among the First born have specialized his training and ensured him and his brothers would be even more fit for their holy mandates as Angels of the Imperium. He takes the few medical supplies that he has on him, and to his dismay nearly all of them are broken or busted in such a way that using them would be more dangerous than useful at this point in time. He leans against the tree tries to take slow deep breaths as he closes his eyes and reaches out, it’s harder, much hard than it should be as his spirit fades from his body and he tries to find a mind that he knows, that is familiar.
To his dismay so many are baseline human and the Elder brothers are all strange, as his spirit walks and wanders before his hearts soar with hope as he recognizes one of the minds as a friend. As someone who he helped and helped him in training back on Holy Mars. Cedric.
[Cedric. Please. Help me.] He calls out to Cedric.
It’s never certain if his brothers can actually hear him or not when his soul is out of his body. He reaches and touches one of Cedrics arms and notices Cedric twitch.
[Brother-cousin please, I’m bleeding out in the forest three hours south of here. I… I don’t want to die ingloriously. Cedric please]. He calls out to the young Apothecary.
#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#oc: claude#warhammer#adeptus astartes#space marine oc#storm hawks#storm hawks oc#ravenguard oc#night lord oc
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Lawrence hardly got passed the first 'yeah' before the sound of gore overtook the air. Wet paper tearing, a putrid stench washing over the room as Ren scraped his claws across the weakened skin. An urgent grunt came from the beast as he plunged his hands into the guts, removing piece after piece, tubing after sponge, looking for the good parts. He moved just like a rabid feral creature, speed taking precedence in his actions, aside from, literally, drooling.
His jaws operated like a machine. His arms, body, face, covered in a thick dark red, clothes becoming stained with such filth. He chewed bites from the intestines, ripped pieces from the bladder, the kidneys- devoured this corpse like an infection, leaving very, very many scraps behind. It was like he couldn't take more than a few bites from each part. Strade was breathing heavy, practically moaning to himself, lightly patting the front of his pants as a sort of relief.
Ren was unrecognizable. His eyes were bright and coated in a dazed inanition, focused only on the buffet before him. He picked and pried at the bones, an uncomfortable wet crack coming from the thing- ribs being pulled upwards to make way for the main attraction. Ren went elbow-deep, grumbling and hissing while digging through the muck, and up came- the heart. This is when Strade raised a hand and shouted, stopping him in his tracks.
Gasping for breath, Ren looked at him with a desperate gaze- eyes falling on Lawrence next. ..They lost their glow. He squeezed them shut, listening to Strade remove a camera from its tripod, coming closer. "Okay... Go." That's all he needed. He sank his teeth in, feeling the excess, unused blood slide down his arms- something he left the organ to try and catch with his tongue, licking up and down his arms before lustfully coming back to the dead heart, ripping and tearing at it like a wild dog.
Strade put the camera back in its place. His breath was as shaky as his smile was sharp, now approaching Lawrence at a pace too fast for comfort- random, without warning, grabbing his arm and slashing his wrist. Remorseless, he turned back to his canine. "Ren! Come on, focus!" Ren stopped his feast, looking up at the scene. His ears and tail firstly fell, but then he began to rapidly sniff the air, eyes dilating. He was invited over, and he comes- crawling, on his hands and knees, just like Strade likes. "Yeah, you smell that?.. Fresh~.."
It was not. It was fresher, but not fresh. Not like Strade's would have been.
He's on all fours, covered in muck, eyes appearing as if he's somewhere far away. He came right to his knees. Panting. Mouth hanging open. An expression only described as.. Lewd. He kept glancing between his wrist, and his eyes, until finally- "Per-m-mission?.." It came out quietly, eagerly. He's going to take him in slowly, starting with blood consumption- who knows what comes next? ..Strade is awaiting Law's answer, but seeing the blade in his hand, it's hard to tell if he really has a choice.
Special Treat
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Anhedonia 2/2
Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)
Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end. Read PART 1 here
"Wha' a good girl you are now…"
His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.
"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.
There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.
"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."
- - - - - - - - -
You go to offer your apology the next day after sleeping on it.
You feel like you're the most horrible person in the world. And yet, when you knock on his door and call yourself in when only a silence answers, the scalding gaze that locks into you like the sights of a gun remind you why you said what you said.
It's like the man has struck a knife in you, and twists it just to see you squirm. And you do: it's a telltale sign that you've been claimed when you kneel in the middle of his office while he sits behind the same desk he rutted you on less than 20 hours ago.
He says nothing. You wait, equally as quiet, like you're waiting for a pardon from Caesar.
The atmosphere is mellow: his shutters are closed but one window is creaked open, allowing birdsong and summer wind on trees to pass through to his otherwise stale office. It stirs the softest, small smile on your lips as you look at him, adamant and all locked up.
Your knees hurt, but he eventually breaks first: something you hadn't even calculated might happen. The brimstone of his eyes steal a breather to the side, then come back to you with a tinge of confusion in them.
Then he lifts his chin, lifts a hand, a command for you to approach.
Your smile only softens as you go around his desk, and he pushes the chair away with one foot, turns to meet you as you fall on your knees again, then on all fours before starting a slow crawl to him.
His eyes go wide, his head draws back as if you approaching him like a housecat is the most threatening situation he has ever been in.
You have planned this through, and he has the instincts, the sixth sense of a seasoned hunter as he opens his legs wide to make space for you.
He certainly doesn't stop you as you free his erection from the sturdy cargo pants and offer your apology by taking him in your mouth.
He knows what's coming but still gasps and grabs the arms of his chair with white knuckles. You're on your knees, seemingly domesticated, but he's the one begging for mercy before you have even begun. He's heavy in your mouth, but you welcome the weight with greed and a hot tongue.
His thighs travel wide and far, just like yours did last night. The first moan is divine. He eases into the chair while the muscles on his stomach and thighs twitch and shudder.
A pair of boots echo in the hallway behind the door, the sound soon disappearing into the distance. Anyone could walk in at any given moment, and the notion makes your head feel dizzy.
He doesn't say anything, doesn't disclose in any way that he is considering forgiveness.
But eventually, he starts to melt upon your tongue like a snow-covered mountain ridge basking in the sun. Something in the way with which you work him slowly and with gusto makes him send a hand on your head. It strokes your hair softly.
"Wha' a good girl you are now…"
His first words hit you like a moan-inducing massage, but you stay silent and steady in your resolve.
"Good soldier, too. We just need to get you to follow orders so that you don't get hurt," he speaks gently.
There it is, finally – a good girl and a good soldier. You have to mentally bind your hands behind your back and place an imaginary gag in your mouth not to chirp and bounce up from joy. It's pathetic, but it's also harrowing: Ghost never meant to fuck with your head; he only wanted to keep you safe. But then he causes another riot in your brain with the next thing he says.
"Such a beautiful sight… You'd make a fine pet."
You give him some teeth for that. Just the lightest scrape as you arrive near the base of his cock. He hisses, then laughs.
"Careful, love."
It's the first time ever you've heard him properly laugh. The sound implements itself into your core, your spine, your DNA. It's genuine and hearty, and the summer brushes past the open window to your face in a reviving breeze. Combined with the dark musk of his laughter, it makes your heart flip, and a small, tickling giggle bubbles inside you too. It arrives muted against his cock, but it's a magnificent moment – you two laughing together, even if for a second, even if yours is just a huff of an exhale against his pelvis.
"You don't like the idea?" He asks you a question as if you didn't have your mouth full of him.
His offer is alluring – of course you'd like him to take you as his pet. You could get good food and caresses, get to curl next to him when he goes to sleep. He could show you off like a domesticated animal if he wanted to. He could parade you down the street on a leash, and you would only purr as you go.
But while the proposition is enticing, you leave him with no answer, knowing it will only intrigue him if you don't say yes.
"I would be good to you," he starts to slip, and you up the pace a little. Open your jaw as far as it can go to accommodate him as much as you can, the soft hood of his cock meeting the back of your throat.
"So good– nh..." You can almost hear how his head rolls back, and you catch yourself worrying if he might hurt his neck because the chair has no headrest.
You do it again, and again, almost choking while trying to show him how good you are, how well you can take him and what your tongue can do too. You nearly stumble while you're at it, so lost in him, and you have to reach for support to prevent yourself from falling.
Your hand finds his leg, clutches the khaki that hugs a broad thigh. You flinch when a hard, heavy palm descends on top of yours. It brushes a thumb over the back of your hand as his sighs travel through the stagnant air, rampant and unchallenged through the fabric of his mask.
"Be my pet, sweetheart," he prays, growing weaker by the second. It's like a charm that transforms you into a priestess, a Babalon whore, a scarlet woman who adores men before sending them off to war.
His hips buck, he starts to clutch your hand like you're a rope that's going to save him from drowning. The other hand is more gentle in grip, but mercenary in demand as he grabs a fistful of hair to guide you along his length. Your gag reflex almost shoots him out of your mouth, but he is relentless.
He knows you can take it.
"That's it–that's it, luv," he rasps, and every other noise gets shut out of your brain as you go deaf to the sonic world. You can feel his thighs bunch and tremble around your head, the earthquake under your fingers pressed against hard, lifeless textile when they should be scraping his skin instead. He opens like a woman, massive legs spread hungry and wide as he shoots a load in your mouth. Ample, abundant, even if he just filled you to the brim not too long ago.
You drink him dutifully, greedy for the praise of a job well done, but such a thing never comes. He just breathes heavy over you, sounding happy, the happiest man on earth. You lick him clean, although there's really nothing to clean except your own saliva. The cock glistens, jolts happily one last time after you're done.
"I can make you scream on that desk," he offers while his hands release their death grip on you. Your hair gets tucked behind your ear, he even squeezes your hand briefly like you're his most trusted companion. His cock is flaccid, so you assume he's offering his fingers, perhaps even his mouth to you.
You'd like nothing more than to know if he has a stubble under that balaclava. To see if he would kneel on the floor too to shove his face between your legs while you're splayed over that desk. If he would forget about the door too, making it possible for anyone to catch him with his nose up your cunt. For Soap or Gaz or even Price to see how the broody commanding officer is just a thirsty hound dog on a bowl.
But then again, you just worked yourself up to a shattering orgasm. Two times, actually – deliberately, before you came here. The taste of his cum on your tongue will have to suffice; hell, it's almost better than him finally fucking or licking you into a deranged bliss.
You sense another opening, can't just help yourself…
"Thank you, sir. But that won't be necessary."
- - - - - - - - -
You begin to fear that you're the narcissist here. The way you make him twist and turn like a corkscrew, the way it makes you feel to see how he spirals deeper into madness. Even your eyes are too much for Ghost, who avoids your stare on missions but hunts you down at the base.
"What does it take?"
He ruts you whenever and wherever he can, in the toilets if need be, too busy to haul you into his room after a mission. You just so happened to pass him by, and it was the nearest space with a lock on the door.
"What the fuck does it take?"
The static hum of the bright, unyielding light and the smell of chlorite oozing out of tile seams is everything but a romantic setting as he drives into you from behind and watches you through the mirror on top of a small sink – watches how you give him nothing.
You're trying to take support from the white porcelain even though he's holding you firm against his chest with that inked arm wrapped around your middle. You want to spread your legs for him but can't, since he barely had time to rip your pants down before getting himself out as well to fuck you, so you settle for admiring how vulnerable he looks while he tries his all to please you.
"Do I have to take the mask off? That it?" He's far from a calm and collected lieutenant as he sweats black paint and despair. "Ya want my mouth? Just say it. Promise I'll make you cry."
You laugh at him through the mirror. It's an involuntary, spontaneous action, and you can't really help it. The man is absolutely adorable… And here you have been, fearing him for weeks without realizing he's just another lonely soul.
He doesn't know your strategy. He doesn't know that it's just you and your hand that are his worst enemy.
"What're ya laughin' at?"
You bite your lip, allow him to see mischief and a quivering smile, wet, adoring eyes paired with simple silence. He could force and command and bully you, but he doesn't do it.
Who's the pet now?
"Obviously, you like my cock," he grunts. "Always wet 'n' ready to go, like a fuckin'–"
It ends in a huff before a potential slur comes out.
Truly a gentleman…
"You let everyone 'ere have a go at you?"
He ticks like a time bomb inside you.
"I'm the last to get to fuck you? Huh? I get the fuckin' scraps, is that it?"
He doesn't need slurs to tear you down, but on the other hand, Ghost only reveals more of himself with the insults and assumptions he hurls at you.
He's desperate, crying for it, longing to be the one who makes you cry and scream and purr. Be your one and only.
"No," you hum. "I'm all yours, Lt."
He blinks a few times, exhausted lids fall to cover most of his eyes, and the stare tells you he has entered a dreamworld.
"I'm–," he groans with a broken voice. "I'm… Fuck–"
You shiver with ecstasy – his orgasm is a better reward than anything else he could ever give you. He collapses again, even more humiliated than the day before, or the day before that. He doesn't seem to care anymore. His hips press you against the cold sink, and you fear the porcelain is going to break under your combined weight. He doesn't slip out. Instead, Ghost tucks his mask on top of his nose to catch breath.
He has a shadow of a stubble, a stern jaw, and the notion makes your walls pulse. Thin lips part to gasp for air, his blazing chest heaves behind your back, threatens to topple you all over the sink and against the mirror already misty from your mingled heat.
And the mask was lifted for a whole other reason than to catch some precious air.
He presses his lips against your bare neck, breathes you in with mouth slightly open. Pants, like a tormented beast.
"You almost got killed," he whispers on your skin. Your heart leaps, and he still doesn't slip out…
"Took that blast and those bullets f' me."
Your heart flutters; it competes in rapidness with the blinks of your lashes. He's gentleman enough not to raise his head as you swallow some panic.
"Why did you do that?"
You can't tell him it wasn't even that heroic. That the ultimate reason was just to get his attention. To get him to proudly acknowledge what a good, talented little soldier you are. His girl.
The thick, softening heat inside you is too much. It shouldn't be this close, he shouldn't be this close. Tears are not allowed; they would be the end of you. The end of the fucking world. Your doom.
Claustrophobia makes it a shaky business to tiptoe him out of you, to slither and struggle out of his embrace and yank your pants up, fight your way through the cramped space and out of the door.
- - - - - - - - -
He suspects something.
And of course he does: the man is not a clandestine operations expert for nothing.
You usually do this in the morning, knowing you won't get another chance before he steals a moment with you. But this morning, you slept in and know that you're in the biggest danger ever. If he catches you before you're satisfied and immune, you're dead.
Everything's been fucked up ever since you met him. He's like a sickness, and you've fallen ill. You're practically bedridden because of him.
You have to use a toy because your hand is not enough anymore, and you fear that one of these days you will climax while he's inside you.
The funny thing is, you forgot to lock the door.
Maybe it's a subconscious wish – to end this sickness and receive some healing.
And the perfect healer walks in like he owns the place. Owns you.
Your heart shoots up your throat at the sound of a door opening to your most sacred space while you're most relaxed, spread naked on the bed, nipples perked up and pointing to the sky.
You forgot to lock the door…
The chant arises right before he emerges like a dark mountain after opening that weak, thin piece of plywood that separates you from civility and prudence.
You forgot to lock the door you forgot to lock the door–
He freezes the exact moment his eyes hit on you. He's a northern slope that never catches sunlight while you're at your weakest, most vulnerable, leaking around a toy made out of plastic, trembling naked and full of goosebumps from the sudden cold he emits.
"You fuckin' little…"
His chest rises and falls, then he slams the door shut, locks it without ever taking his eyes off you.
He understands the mystery to the full. It unravels before him clear-cut like the steps of a mission he knows by heart before even entering the field. You can't move, can't speak, but you clench around the lifeless substitute of him, far smaller and a thousand times more tame than what he has on offer for you. The throb is simply a reaction to how he looks at you while he realizes the entirety of the childish trick you've managed to pull, a game – some stupid little antics of a stubborn, lovesick girl and nothing more.
"Alright then. Let's hear it."
"Mhm-"
He takes a step, chest puffed up and shoulders wide, eyes burning under the chalked white skull.
"Go on then. Get on wit' it."
You obey like never before. He watches how you push the lavender-colored toy fully inside, up to the hilt, and let out a shy, sad whimper. The first of many cries to come.
Ten soldiers in one man approach your bed, stand tall all around you as you gaze up at him like he's a god. He's panting by the time he gets himself out of his jeans. His eyes scourge you as he takes his cock in hand and starts to pump in sync with you.
He makes more noise than you do at first. You make him falter by changing the speed from slow and languid to shallow and quick. He tries to keep up with you like it's a race, eyes darting from your quivering mouth and wet stare to your soaked pussy.
You sigh and moan, fuck yourself sloppy, dirty, and he looks like he's about to lose his mind and burst.
"Good girl," he says with a charred voice, a soft rasp that hits you with a delicious heat. "Such a good fuckin' girl."
You swallow tears and love, give him moans and sighs, even a high-pitched mewl or two.
Somewhere along the way, you notice you're following his cue and rhythm instead of your own, and the way the angry bulge of his tip disappears into and reappears from his fist dries your mouth right up, makes your eyelids heavy. You're breathless and incoherent, far too close to the mountaintop — already were before the actual mountain even walked through that door.
You have to slow down to brace yourself for the pleasure that swells.
"Oh– oh my god…"
Your sigh is a final admission: how he is a literal god to you. His hand claps against his balls as he pleasures himself, angry as fuck and as relieved as anyone could be when they find out that their heartthrob is just a delightful little minx instead of a cruel, heartless woman.
Everything shakes and quakes and shifts, your insides shudder, your walls grip lavender when they want to grip a man. The skull tilts, the man who compels you is like an avatar of death, but his eyes are hazel longing.
The scream is celestial, wreathed in needy pain, and his shoulders sigh and shake as he watches you come for him.
"Yeah… That's it, fuck that's sweet." He doesn't slow down, quite the opposite: he beats his flesh like a maniac as you slowly but surely come down, squirm on the bed, still clutching the toy as your pussy throbs around it. If it was his cock, you fear the grip would never release him.
"Here comes," he gives an announcement, weak and breathless, rough and mean. Ropes of cum hit your breasts, neck and face, and his eyes are those of a fallen angel. Your chest rises and falls in shock and adoration as he works himself to the last of it, drips of heat dropping on the sheets, the last spurts not powerful enough to reach you from where he is standing.
When he's done, he raises his hand, like the strings of hot lust are some sort of an art piece you're supposed to gawk at.
"There ya go luv," he wipes his hand clean with you, on you. The sticky semen coats you from face to navel, and you half expect him to smear it all over you.
But he doesn't.
He forces the heavy, teary cock back inside the confine of his pants like he's mad at himself and not you.
Then he drops down like a shadow, making you quail again – one hand sinks with a fist on the pillow next to your head, the other sweeps all gentle across your belly and down over your mound. He takes hold of your hand, uses it to ease the toy slowly out while leaning over you, keeping you as a prisoner with his hawklike stare. He pulls more than just the small, harmless toy out of you: a moan or two, a final confession, but he's not pleased. You two are far from even, and he knows it, and he's fucking done. You can see it in his eyes that he's ready to quit.
He leaves you empty and barren, with just a toy to keep you company, heads for the door like a storm cloud.
"Simon…"
He walks away, much slower, but still. Leaves a memory of your shared hate and love on the doorknob as he turns it, as you start to panic.
"Don't leave," you wheeze.
Don't leave me.
Tears prick and burn your eyes as the room turns into a dismal, empty space at the very thought of living without him from this day forward.
"Please."
He opens the door a crack. Probably to let the ghosts out, because after opening it and hearing your heart-wrenching, helpless sob, he closes it.
By the time he turns and walks back to the bed, you're crying like a baby. Finally crying for him, utterly exposed. It's not the way either of you had meant for things to go, it's not the sobbing and wailing he wants.
Still, you expect him to feast on your tears as well, watch with glee how you curl into a fetal position while covered in his cum. You don't want to see it, so you close your eyes before he rapes you with his stare.
"Sweetheart."
But his voice shatters a heart. So tender that it washes over you in waves as you repeat it inside your head like a lullaby.
"Sweetest…" he trails off into somewhere, some obsidian space that stretches out before you, between you, until you cross that space with no effort at all. Meet him in the middle.
"Yes, love..?" Your own shaky voice is a mirror of his compassion as you pledge yourself to him. A warm hand brushes your cheek not seconds after, dries a tear away, adds to the heat that pangs on your face.
You open your eyes to dare a peek up. He has the same wet look in his eyes as he did when he found you in the rubble, bleeding for him.
"You did well today," he says, voice laced with love. You don't know if he means you did well at work or on this bed just now. What makes the praise scary is that it's authentic, the way he adores you with both word and touch. It breaks you into smaller pieces still, and your voice comes out as a needy whimper.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
You hope he would take you in his arms, just the way he did weeks ago. You still remember how it felt to succumb to his warmth and the soft tang of gun oil and smoke that always surrounds him. Now you're only shrouded by the scent of tears and salt.
"Must be due to a good leader," you whisper.
He cocks his head, the hand halts, hovers over you, a last suspicion.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Your hands are crossed over your chest, palms on opposite shoulders, shielding you from him. But you open them as he lays down and settles beside you, takes you in his arms, and presses your head to rest on his heart, underneath his chin. The massive palm covers half of your head, but the predatorial weight is gone. He only feels like home.
"Look at you, ya silly little thing… Always gettin' yourself into trouble." He brushes your beef off with a few words and an imply that you're just a blameless, stubborn little thing who he can't be mad at even if he wanted to. And it feels like the sickness finally starts to pass, that it was just an odd inflammation, a passing fever that made you so delirious. You anchor in, slither an arm under his to take support of the bedrock of his back.
He caresses you, makes you sob in his shirt from the sudden overdose of gentleness. His cum dries somewhere between your skin and his clothes as he swallows, then asks you about the mission that went wrong.
"Why did you do it?"
He's not an idiot. Surely he knows why by now. He only wants to hear it because he's stubborn like you, but also in desperate need of love and affection.
"I think you know why." You're exhausted, only able to breathe through your mouth, but the bitterness from your tone is gone. Lost, somewhere in his shirt that smells of ferrous solitude. You wonder what your combined scent, your togetherness, will smell like. It must be something sweet. Promising, like a refreshing summer rain.
"Yeah."
He caresses you slowly now, until his hand comes to rest on top of your head, making sure you won't escape his sanctuary.
"Never do it again," he commands, so soft, voice only a smoked whisper. "Love. I need you to promise me."
"Mh."
"Promise me."
You're feeling sleepy and spent, and he's to blame for it – he simply feels too good. You decide that your first kiss can wait just a little while longer. It's only wonderful; to have something lovely and pure to wait for.
"I promise…"
You drift off to sleep, cradled by the safe slopes of his mountain.
#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#ghost x female reader#simon riley x female reader
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foursome between Cyrus, Harlan, Cody(they’re all tops), and Y/n(bottom)
Y/N still thought Cyrus was an ass. A sexy ass, but an ass none the less as Y/N, Harlan, Cody, and Cyrus all decided to have a little fun inside Tia's house. They all quickly removed their wet swimming trunks and the three boys looked at Y/N with a smile. "Hey, Y/N, my friend Cyrus has a little problem. Why don't you help him out?"
Cyrus smiled cocky as Y/N got on his hands and knees and crawled towards him, but instead of going to Cyrus like Harlan instructed, he went towards Cody as he looked up at him and smiled at the blushing male. "Wow, Cody, you're certainly not little are you?"
Cody couldn't muster up an answer as he just let Y/N grab his dick and watched him pump it as moaned softly before he gasped loudly as he felt Y/N's lips around his cock as Harlan and Cyrus jerked each other off, watching Y/N suck Cody's dick. He pulled off Cody's cock with a pop before he started on Cyrus's, who wasn't shy about it. "Oh, fuck, suck that cock." He ran a hand through Y/N's hair as he licked his tip and underneath his balls as Cyrus groaned. He then goes onto sucking Harlan off as the werewolf moans Y/N's name.
He continued this process until all three boys were so close to the edge as they jerked their cocks in front of Y/N and came all over him. They all shuttered through their orgasms as they all looked at Y/N covered in cum as they got turned on.
"Wow, he looks covered in cum. Doesn't he fellas?" Harlan said to Cyrus and Cody.
Y/N rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Harlan. Now, come prepare for your dicks."
"Ooh, someone's an inpatient little cum slut."
Y/N got on Tia's bed and dripped jizz on her sheets as he turned on his stomach as he waited for the other males to open him up. "Hey, Cody, why don't you help me open him up?" Harlan asked. Cody nods as pretty soon, Y/N felt two tongues invade his hole as he gasped. Feeling their hot tongues inside his tight heat as Cyrus licked a finger and inserted alongside their tongues as they worked him open and all Y/N could do was pant and moan.
After a few minutes of torture, they stopped as they were ready. They all gloved up and lined up their dicks with Y/N's hole. "We're going to fuck you now, Y/N. If it gets too much, tell us and we'll stop." Cody said gently as Y/N nods. Harlan slides inside him first, stretching his walls as Cyrus goes next, then Cody as they give him time to adjust to their big sizes and the intense pressure. Once he gives the okay, they begin to move in and out of him as he moaned for them Harlan is slow and rough. Cyrus is fast and rough. Cody is slow and gentle.
Y/N can only imagine how it feels for them, but to him, it's incredible to have three dicks fucking you and when they pull out so Y/N can turn on his back, they continue to fuck him as Harlan and Cyrus whispered filth to him as Cody helps him out and jacks his dick in time with their thrusts. Pretty soon, they're all close as Y/N shuts his eyes. "I'm gonna... Fuck!" He cums all over them and himself as they chase after him and spill inside the condoms as they pull out all sweaty.
"Wow, you're a great fuck, Y/N." Cyrus smiled.
"You did great, Y/N." Harlan said.
"We didn't hurt you did we?" Cody asked.
"Nope. I'm just fine."
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🎀Princess Peachy🎀
Finally got some delightful inspiration for another Bucky!Daddy & Princess thanks to this post 🤤 I got very swept away from the original idea but hopefully it's still as filthy as it needs to be 🤭
So enjoy and be good 😉 or not 😜
Warnings: It's filth that's all I'm gonna say
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- It had been a while since you and Daddy had gone on a trip out.
- He wanted to spend a nice day out with you in the sunshine. Away from the city noise and with a little bit of privacy.
- He woke you up in the morning with kisses, excitement plastered over his face.
- "Wusgonna on Daddy" you mumbled, smiling at his goofy grin.
- "We're going for a picnic little peach"
- You giggled at the nickname and accepted his kisses as he covered them all over your face.
- He pulls you out of bed and you head to the kitchen to get things ready.
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- You want to help Bucky but he worries about you hurting yourself, so he guides you as you chop up bits of fruit, his chest pressing into yours, strong hands guiding your dainty ones.
- "Be careful little princess, can't let you get hurt" he growls, which only really serves to distract you but it's ok. Daddy's got you.
- You pack a basket full of fruit, sweet treats, drinks and sandwiches. Your tummy rumbles just looking at it.
- "Can't I have something now?" You pout, eyeing up the cookies in the basket.
- He chuckles and produces your favourite pastry which you happily munch on as he kisses your forehead and leaves you sitting watching TV so he can prepare everything else.
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- After, you head into the bedroom to find a pretty dress laid out on the bed for you.
- Something like this...

- You put it on with some cute little sandals and sit on the bed waiting for Bucky to reappear, swinging your legs with excitement.
- He comes into he bedroom with a little pink toy in his hand and you squeeze your thighs together.
- "You've been so good for me lately babygirl. Felt like we both deserved a little treat today."
- He pushes you back to laying and crawls over your body. You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a breathy kiss.
- "Hmmm thank you Daddy" you whisper as he steals more kisses from you.
- "Daddy's got a little treat for you, gonna need you to open those legs for me and show me that pretty pussy."
- You immediately oblige, spreading your legs as wide as you can.
- He chuckles as he smoothes a hand over your bare pussy, bringing a little moan from your lips.
- He produces the little pink toy again. He rubs it up and down your slit, coating it in your wetness. You whine as he spits on your pussy, and the toy sinks in, fitting snugly against your walls.
- "Such a good girl" he cooed "god you look so pretty like this..."
- Once he's satisfied he pulls the skirt of your dress down and brings you to standing.
- "let's go hmm?"
- He drives you out of the city, your legs bouncing in anticipation, very aware of the fullness in your pussy.
- After an hour or so he pulls up to a beautiful meadow, the sun bathing the grass and flowers in warmth and you gasp that such an amazing place could exist.
- With his hand in yours, you both walk out to the field. He spreads a blanket out and you settle down.
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- A little while later, once you've snacked away at your little feast, you are lying with your head on his chest, looking up at him, fingers stroking at his stubble.
- "You're gonna send me to sleep if you keep that up" he mumbles, his own fingers stroking through your hair.
- You giggle, his chest rumbling underneath you as he chuckles too.
- Finally he sighs and lifts himself up onto his elbows.
- "Lemme take a picture of you baby. You look so perfect little peach."
- You blush and hide your face in the blanket as he scoots onto his knees and grabs his phone.
- "Sweetness, c'mon, show me that pretty face" he teases, pulling at your leg.
- Finally you move round onto your knees, your skirt billowing out around you. Still feeling very shy you hide behind your hands until he tuts at you.
- He leans forward and pulls your hand away, kissing your lips. "Don't hide that pretty face from me peach, you're perfect you know that."
- You smile at him and drop your hands, embracing the attention he lavishes on you.
- "There's my girl" he reassures you as he leans back, aiming the phone at you.
- Suddenly the device that had been sitting so snugly inside you buzzes to life.
- Bucky grins as you squeal, your hands flashing to your core. He keeps the phone up and you see his finger swirl around the screen as it stimulates you in time.
- "Daddy" you cry out wiggling around as he continues his work. He takes his free hand and pulls up your skirt to reveal your tortured pussy, your thighs shaking with every harsh pulse he sends your way.
- "Does it feel good Princess? Is Daddy doing it right?" He's mocking you but you don't have capacity to care. If anything it spurs you on more.
- You cry out and nod as you cling to your breasts, squeezing them as you crash into your orgasm.
- But if you know anything by now, that's just the first of many.
- MANY.
- He pushes you over with ease, you fall back on the blanket, panting as the device still hums away inside you.
- "Daddy please" you beg as he looks around before straddling your face and pulling his cock out of his pants.
- "Open up sweetness" he pants as he taps your cheeks with his fat length.
- Happy to have something to focus on, you oblige, his dick sinking down into you, making you choke as he flicks the device up high.
- "Come all you like baby, but don't stop sucking my dick till I come. If you do you won't come again for a week"
- Your lower half is thrashing under him as he fucks your throat, you do your best to focus, hollowing your cheeks and keeping your tongue moving as much as you can.
- He groans above you, lacing a hand through your hair as he uses you.
- "God dammit princess, such a perfect slut. Taking me so fucking good."
- "This mouth was made for me y'know that? Just like all those perfect little holes "
- "Gonna come again baby? Gonna come with Daddy's big cock down your throat?"
- You can only choke and moan in response. Tears and spit cover your cheeks and as the device pulses you are dragged through yet another orgasm.
- As a good girl you keep him in your mouth, sucking hard as a means of keeping him there.
- "Good girl princess" he praises, his voice strained at how hard you are sucking him. "Let go now baby, daddy wants to come on that pretty face..."
- You moan as you listen to his growls and huffs as he squeezes every last drop out onto your perfect face.
- The device drops down to a very gentle hum as he climbs off you, laying down next to your twitching, panting body.
- "God baby, look at you" he muses, his hands exploring your quivering form.
- He's got his phone back in his hands, he taps randomly and the device alters it's pace, each one torturously different from the last.
- You sob and try to move but he holds you in place.
- "Hush now princess, I got one more little job for you and then we'll see about stopping ok?"
- He reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a peach and instructs you to hold it in your mouth.
- Your teeth sink in to the fleshy skin and some juice drips down your already messy cheeks.
- "Hold onto that for me little peach. Don't eat it though, I want it for later..."
- He then lies down next to you and you watch as he swipes his finger over the screen, the little vibrator, making you squirm and shake again.
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- Your body is a twitching, sweaty mess when he finally turns it off.
- He soothes you as he pulls the device out, and quickly sinks his cock in, your creamy release coating his dick as he slowly fucks you.
- He takes the peach from your mouth, amazingly you only made a small dent in the soft fruit and as he slowly fucks you he takes a bite.
- "Not as sweet as you princess" he muses as he chucks it away and leans over you, pushing himself deeper into your abused pussy.
- "Nothing like you anywhere... Just perfect and just for me" he says, nipping at your skin, licking at the peachy, salty stains that cover your face.
- Your weak hands try to push him away and cling on to him but neither really works. Your whole body is ruined and you are floating with the pretty clouds that loom just above Bucky's head.
- "You hear me baby? Just mine, all mine. Perfect princess..."
- You whimper as tears stream down your face, happiness and sensitivity overwhelming you as you look at him through blurry eyes.
- "There she is, my perfect angel"
- His pounding and your moans echo around the area, and it's not long before both of you peak together.
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- He wraps you in the blanket and you shiver a little as he carries you to the car.
- "Was I good daddy" you croak quietly into his ear, eyes welling up again as he looks at you with such pride and love.
- "Perfect, so perfect sweetness. Love you so much, did me so proud."
- You bury your face into his neck, overwhelmed by his affection and praises. He sits in the car with you on his lap for a moment, letting you feel what you need to. Rubbing your back and cooing more praises in your ear.
- When you settle he kisses you, first on the forehead, then your nose, then your lips. You eagerly return it and you mewl when he pulls away.
- "Sounds good daddy" you whisper and you let him settle you in your seat, ready to sleep the whole way home.
- "I'm gonna take you home, we're gonna have a nice long bath and snuggle up and watch something.... Princess-y. Whaddya think babygirl?" He says as your eyes droop a little.
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan#masterlist#sugar daddy bucky#daddy!bucky#princess!reader#bucky headcanon
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Finger-Painting
Kinktober22: Cumplay with Dieter Bravo
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Word Count: 1.8K+ (not beta’d, k bye)
Warnings: Language, STRAIGHT FILTH, extreme cumplay, cum eating, squirting, praise, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected PinV, begging if you squint
Masterlist | Kinktober Outline | Absurdthirst’s Kinktober Prompt List
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Dieter Bravo is an artist. Obviously, he’s an actor, but he also enjoys to succumb to paints and pencils when particularly excitable…or vulnerable. Sometimes, during these extreme feelings that threaten to overcome him, he seeks you. You are in fact his favorite canvas. His medium…you and he.
Your essence.
His cum.
He wishes to be covered in you…and he needs to paint you. All of you.
“C’mon, gorgeous, c’mon, give it to me, splash me. Cover me!” Dieter calls up to you from the floor. You are positioned facing the ceiling on his bed, legs dangling off the side, thighs spread wide to the breadth of his broad shoulders, and your pussy on display to him. Kneeling on the floor he has three thick fingers splitting you open over and over and over. You feel the effort in his breaths upon your swollen folds. The cooling effect from how wet you are makes you whine.
“Soak my chest, baby, you can do it, I know you can, I feel it, don’t fight it, baby.” Dieter continues to babble with his other hand pressing into your inner thigh to hold you open for him. You shake as your legs try to close around him but he’s too strong, too focused.
Your walls flutter around his relentless fingers and your lower belly starts to feel warm, you know it's coming, he knows it coming, it is pointless to fight the shocking feeling. That’s when he presses the pad of his thumb forcefully to your clit, angry with arousal, and you scream.
You feel the rush then hear the splash as you soak Dieter’s chest. Your whole body lifts off the bed with the force of your orgasm and when your eyes widen to look down at what you’ve done, Dieter is grinning like an idiot. He’s staring at where his fingers are still inside of you and following his eyes of admiration you see the wetness of his forearm, chest, neck and chin. He wanted to be so close to the action. He got what he wanted, he’s a mess of you.
“God I fucking love that, you pretty thing, so much sweetness comes out of you,” Dieter finally pulls his fingers free and you shudder, “look what you’ve done to my bed…to me.”
You lean up on your elbows, breaths heavy as you still come down from one of your highest peaks. You’re exhausted but you can’t look away from him. Dieter becomes entranced and it’s almost like you shouldn’t be watching him at all.
He brings the hand that was inside of your pussy to rub your cum over the expanse of his bare chest. Dieter begins to move your slick around in figure eights, only pausing twice to pinch his nipples and gasp. His other hand squeezes your inner thigh and you gasp with him. His hand then slides easily up the column of his neck, throwing his head back, his eyes roll shut when his middle and ring fingers push up and over his chin.
You haven’t blinked at all, enthralled with watching him enjoying himself. Then he tilts his head back down and shoves his cum covered fingers deep into his mouth. Dieter groans at your taste and you can see his tongue swirling around his long digits. It’s your whine that finally pulls his attention back to you and he smiles as he pulls his fingers free.
“Sorry, baby, you just taste so fucking good. I’m back.”
Dieter stands, his knees cracking but neither of you hear them so lost in each other, then he is crawling towards you. He kneels on top, straddling your waist. His cock is so red and angry, dripping upon your lower stomach as he brings his hands to your shoulders to sit you up with him. When he shoves his lips to yours it's hungry. Tasting yourself on his tongue you press your tits into him sharing the sticky mess between you as your arms become frantic.
You finally pull away to breathe, “Dieter, let me taste you, please, handsome.”
He only answers with a smile and a peck of your lips before he stands on the bed. You’re in shock looking up at him with big doe eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that, pretty girl, you’ll make me cum before you even start!” He quickly squeezes the base of his cock in front of your face, “ok, baby, you can suck me off but before I cum I want you to lean back, okay? Can Dieter paint your lips? Please?”
You’re speechless and just nod your head in agreement. Reaching forward you wrap your arms around his thighs and open your mouth. Dieter guides the head of his length onto your tongue and when you close your lips around him he nearly loses it, he's been hard for so long. He’s made you cum on his tongue and then made you squirt on his fingers so far tonight, he is ready for his first release.
Dieter barely lasts a minute of you bobbing back and forth on his dick before his balls pull up tight and he’s pushing you back off of him with a wet pop of your lips. You sigh in surprise leaning back on your hands and watch as his body shivers above you. His tummy flexes as he cums with his hands in his hair pulling the unruly curls. Ropes of him spurt out over and over, landing on your lips and chin. As his hips jerk with his orgasm his cum covers your neck and chest too.
When he catches his breath, Dieter places his hands on his hips and looks down at you, “Holy shit…aren’t you fucking gorgeous.” You lick some of his cum into your mouth with a smirk and he bites his lower lip to stifle a moan.
He lowers himself back to his knees carefully positioning himself between your legs this time. Immediately, his hands find both of your breasts and he squeezes, satisfaction in his facial features and dark lust in his eyes as he enjoys his own sticky mess on you, mixing with the shine of your essence.
“Ohh, baby, I need to cover more of you. L-let me…fuck I’m already getting hard again…let me fuck you and lick your face clean, then…then the finale.”
“Please, Dieter, I need more.”
The moan he finally lets out between his plush lips makes your whole body vibrate with new found want. As he begins to lick at your chin and cheeks he grinds his hardening cock into your mound. Your fingernails scratch down his back and at his sides making him whine openly. His still slick covered tummy pressing onto yours, your come continuing to mix as you glide together.
Dieter pants as he kitten licks his cum off of your face, his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, and when he finally thrusts himself into your tight pussy, you both release a sigh of relief. He starts to fuck you in earnest, the heat of it all and the slippery sounds your bodies are making already bringing you to another crest.
“C’mon, pretty boy, give it to me, you feel so good, Dieter!” His breaths become ragged as he reaches between you to bring on your third orgasm with expert circles over your needy clit. “Yes! Yes, Dieter, fuck yes!” You cum all around his length and he fucks you through the slow rolling orgasm, weaker than the others, but no less erotic as you add more of your fluid to the mess he’s making of you both. “Paint me, Dieter, paint me!”
You barely hear him growl over the obscene sounds your pussy is making, then he leans back to pull out of you. You groan feeling empty but watch him pump his long, thick cock, creamy with you, a few times before he is spilling over you again. This time the ropes of his hot cum land in a line over your stomach.
Once Dieter slows, the last of his spend flowing over his fingers, he brings his cum covered hand to lay flat over your stomach. Both of your chests are heaving and he is flushed, glistening with sweat and drying cum. Dieter’s tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip as he spreads his cum around your body. Finger painting your ribs and filling your belly button with your combined juices.
You can feel the small trails at the edges of your body where all of the excess is dribbling down around you and staining his dark sheets. You wiggle a little trying to save his egyptian cotton and gather some with your own hand to play in, but he catches on.
“Don’t worry about the sheets, baby, I want them ruined with us. Maybe later we can take a black light to them and see the beautiful outline of your body. See the beautiful art we made together.”
Somehow the dirty things he is saying makes you swoon as he starts to kiss and lick at your hips. Meticulously licking and slurping up every last drop. Then he reaches your belly button where he has pooled some of the mess, his eyes lock with yours as he takes what's there as a body shot. The loud sound catches you off guard and makes you cry out at his depravity.
“Fuck! Dieter, that was hot.”
You are writhing below him as he crawls up to you again, his lips sealed. You know what's coming by the look in his eyes. The finale, one of his favorite things. He grabs your chin and presses his thumb and fingers into your cheeks causing you to open your mouth for him. You present your tongue to him and he hums.
Slowly, while looking into your eyes, Dieter parts his lips and lets the cum leak onto your tongue. It’s filthy. So filthy it makes you throb. When he's satisfied with the amount on your tongue he swallows what's left in his mouth.
“That’s a good girl, damn we are delicious…now…swallow.”
You roll your tongue back into your mouth and he slides his sticky hand down your neck to feel you swallow. It’s salty and musky and so incredibly both of you.
“Mmm, yes…” you lick your lips, “we are delicious, Dieter.”
He huffs out a laugh and lays his weight on top of you. Both of you content to lay in your filth for a moment. It’s Dieter who breaks the comfortable silence.
“Let’s get in the shower, pretty girl, we are NASTY!”
Laughing together you stumble out of eachothers limbs and roll off the bed. Then Dieter holds you both in front of the bathroom mirror and whispers in your ear, “love you, my masterpiece.”
With a kiss to his chin you return the sentiment and start the hot shower.
“It's a shame to wash off, but…” his hands find your waist under the fresh spray, “me likes to have a clean canvas for the next session.” You giggle when he wiggles his eyebrows at you, his curls sticking wet to his forehead. You hand your shower gel to him to lather you clean knowing the next session he speaks of wouldn’t be too far away.
The next session would actually be right then…in the shower.
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A/N: No regular taglist for kinktober but I will tag my enabling menace @lowlights, @littlemisspascal, and @absurdthirst for the inspo. Thanks for reading loves!
Next: Gunplay with Zach Wellison
#kinktober#kinktober 2022#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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I am having thoughts on the Pussy Eating King Frankie Morales finding out his girl has never recieved oral (due to being shy or just asshole exes) and his automatic “well that just won’t do”. What are your thoughts?
Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader. Squirting. Pussy Eating duh.
yeah this is all filth below
he would eat you out and he'd be messy about it - like his nose dragging through your folds as he tongues your cunt and then he wedges his thick fingers inside you until he feels your walls begin to flutter and clamp down and the heat in your body rising and burning and your thighs tensing as he places his palm across your belly to pin you in place before latching to your clit and suctioning his mouth while he deliberately shoves you to the peak of that hill before easing off and -
- you're curling in on yourself - slightly terrified and slightly unsure because jesus christ that swollen molten climb is beginning to spread across your core and there's so much pressure and as you push at him he soothes you "shhh baby - trust me - try and hold still so I can make you feel it" and okay okay this is fine but pleasure is coursing through your veins and bunching up at the well of your sex and then he moves his fingers in such a way that you can hear yourself - the wet, squelching echo - of your pussy taking his fingers to the joint and he moves them up and down and curls them perfect as he suckles on the bud of your sex and oh oh oh fuck - because then there are the sounds of him and the groans that rumble from his chest as he practically drinks your cunt and his tongue lapping at your soaked folds and the damp noise of him suctioning and eating you sloppy as he can and - oh - OH - that feeling begins to blossom again - deep and nestled in the very pit of you and Frankie is thrusting and plunging and twisting until the knuckles brush up against your sensitive flesh and he pushes down on your belly just enough as you cry out and fist your hands into his curls and -
- your knees dig into his ears and your hips buck up beneath his chin and something high-pitched and broken falls from your lips as you burst open on him - a push of liquid and the most electrifying crash of pleasure and relief and the entire bottom of his face has to be soaked - you're practically dripping from his lashes but he's grinning up at you despite the fact that his mouth still covering your cunt as he eases you through the aftershocks of your climax and those brown eyes spark and brighten as they watch you fall apart and he sits back on his heels - wiping a little at his chin before he crawls on top of you and kisses you hard - the warm soapy taste of your slick on his tongue as he slides it against yours and it's a dirty kiss - obscene in the way he cradles your jaw and stabs his thumb into your cheek and then he whispers - throaty and hoarse and rundown against your gasping lips - that was one - do you have a second in you? i think you do. i think you're my responsive, pretty girl who can take anything i give her
#inbox#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x female reader#francisco catfish morales#frankie morales imagine
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please pleas eshare the thought with jean. please i’m legitimately begging you please
ahsjsks because you begged nonnie
warnings: smut/18+/minors DNI, vouyerism, cucking, oral, absolute fucking filth
a/n: this has actually haunted me for weeks…shout out @mitsuyasmistress for being the first one i screamed too, @aiiwa the loml who helped me add the missing piece to this, and @yeagerslut who is here to help remind you that all these boys are disaster bis, enjoy

Dating frat boy Eren who lives in the room next to fellow frat brother Jean, subjecting the poor boy to the sounds of your moans through those thin walls that makes Jean’s morning wood just a little bit harder when he wakes up, even though his boyfriend Marco is sleeping soundly right next to him.
Jean who feels that pit of guilt grow when you giggle at the way he gets so flustered when he catches you coming out of the bathroom, towel clutched to your wet body oh so innocently as you bounce back to your boyfriend’s room — Jean shutting the bathroom door behind him quickly so he can bury his head in his hands to try to quell the terrible thoughts he’s thinking of you.
So when Marco calls him over to a quiet room in the party, he feels his stomach drop — its over — he’s figured him out, the least thing he’s expecting is you and Eren sitting in the room too, legs spread over Eren’s thighs with your skirt flipped up so Jean can get an eyeful of your pretty pussy.
Marco did figure him out, and Eren was able to put two and two together too, the both of them coming to you with this little proposition to finally quiet down the storm in Jean’s mind.
Jean can’t believe it, alternating from looking back at the two of you and Marco in shock, causing Marco to hold his face still as he tells him “It’s okay, I’m fine with this.”
“I think it will be hot.”
Jean drops to his knees, crawling between your open legs to press a soft kiss on your clit, hands resting over with Eren’s over your thighs as he dives into your folds.
You’re squirming in your boyfriends lap, gasping as Jean eats you out like a man starved, your whines causing you to feel your boyfriend stiffen against your back and Marco to palm over the crotch of his pants.
And Jean?
Well, he’s in heaven. You taste so much better than he could have ever thought, tongue prodding into your entrance so he could lap all of you up, and he realizes he needs more than just this. So he takes a break to beg, mouth covered in your slick as his lips quiver when he begs you to give him a chance to fuck you, and you’re nodding deliriously in agreement as long as Jean will get you to finish.
Eren gets sick of his whining, fisting Jean’s honey brown mullet to shove it into your puffy folds. “She said make her cum, damn it, then we can negotiate,” he grits.
“Do what he says, baby,” Marco calls out, his own voice strained as he pumps himself at the sight in front of him. “You want to be good, don’t you? Be a good boy and listen.”
So Jean obeys, wrapping his lips around your bud and giving it a desperate suck as you shatter in Eren’s arms.
You feel like jello, looking down at Jean with half lidded eyes and a dopey smile as Eren starts to whisper in your ear. You let out an airy laugh and nod, and Eren slips from out from behind you, maneuvering you so your head hangs over the edge of the bed so you can gaze up at Marco with big doe eyes and your lips parted. A blush dusts his freckled face, a soiled hand holding his flushed cock as he watched his boyfriend eat you out like you were his last meal.
“She wants you too, Marco,” Eren says.
“Trust me when I say she sounds so much better with out having a wall muffle her out.”

#thirst time!#aot smut#aot thirsts#eren jaeger x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#marco bott x reader#eren jaeger smut#jean kirstein smut#marco bott smut#eren jaeger thirst#jean kirstein thirst
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Crystals can cut
Inspired by @the-modern-typewriter 's snippet "the best bad decision," over on her Patreon. I just loved the villain x "bad egg of the golden family," idea so much. Still not 100% happy with how it turned out but oh well. I've plans to continue it in the future :)
Emberly paced back and forth, feet padding across the cold asphalt in the ally of - wherever she had run to. Far away, that's all that mattered. Far away and deep into the twisting maze of the cities alleyways and into it's underbelly. Swallowed far into the shadow and dark, where monsters like her belonged- and more importantly- the shining lights like her family would never find her.
Again. She'd nearly lost control *again*. Her powers grew more volatile by the day, and she felt like a ticking time bomb. Slowly ticking down until it happened. Ka-boom. Until she slipped, and it all came into those bright lights and pure marble and gold trims and-
She let out some whimpering sound, choking on the tears she was fighting tooth and nail to keep down. Emotions raged war inside her, buzzing across her skin.
Any day now, she would lose everything and everyone around her. Not that she had much beyond materialistic things, but it was still all shed ever known.
Emberly angrily kicked a crate next to her with a shout of frustration, tears welling in her eyes.
She wasn't supposed to cry, her mother had told her, "Crying is pointless, it doesn't solve anything and only makes you look weak."
Her mother wasn't here right now.
Emberly's legs quivered before she crumbled down under her own weight, dropping to her knees.
What was worse, was all the crystals growing up out of the ground around her. Like stalagmites of opalescent glass.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Sobs tore through her, unable to hold it inside anymore. Her platinum blond hair fell over her shoulders and back. The clip that kept it in its usual high ponytail must have fallen out while she was running.
Pathetic. She was pathetic.
Unlike the rest of her family. The Larsens. They might as well have been royalty to the city. Her mother was the *mayor* for crying out loud! Her father was the *district attorney*! Even her older brother was one of the best detectives in the city, despite being only a few years older than her.
And then there was Emberly, who was pathetically crying in a dark alley on her knees, covered in whatever filth was on the pavement.
Crystals were beginning to grow off the nearby brick walls, crawling up their rough surfaces. The light of the dim lamp above her was starting to bounce off them, rainbow fractals reflected around, illuminating the dingy surfaces.
Ironic, almost, for something so beautiful to only be allowed to exist in the darkest of grimey damp alleyways the city had to offer.
Maybe she should just stay here. Freaks like her belonged in the catacombs of the city anyway.
Emberly pushed herself over, rolling to sit against the cold brick wall and off of her hands and knees.
Fingers clutched at her chest, gasping for air between sobs, but she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop now. She just wanted it out. Gone.
Despite that, she managed to calm herself a bit, slowly getting her breathing back under control.
Even through tear fogged eyes, she could see the kaleidoscope of colours dotted around the walls.
Like the world's stupidest disco ball, that only continued getting brighter the more prisms it bounced off.
Impulsively, Emberly grabbed a rock, angrily hurling it up at the lamp where it shattered, broken glass raining down onto the ground in front of her.
She wanted to scream. Scream until her throat was raw and her lungs were bloody. It was-
"Who's there?" A voice demanded.
Oh no. She'd been too loud.
She sat frozen, listening to the footsteps padding closer across the cold gritty pavement.
As quietly as possible, Emberly pulled her knees up tightly to her chest, trying to make herself as small as she could. Hopefully, without the light, it would be dark enough for the person to be unable to see her in the shadows.
She should have expected that life would never make anything that easy for her, as the person who finally rounded the corner just so happened to be one of the only people in the entire city with the power to see in the dark.
Vivian Grimm. The apt name for the villain who practically owned the very alleyways they were in. She was probably the city's top criminal, controlling most, if not all of the shadows where lights like Emberly's family didn't reach.
That was certainly an ironic statement, considering the villain's superpower was controlling light. Said gift was what granted her night vision.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Vivian drawled, voice like velvet glass. So easy to listen to, honeyed and purring, yet it caressed with the edge of a knife. "Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep by now princess? How did you end up all the way out here?"
Princess. She bristled at the nickname. Used to mock what to others appeared a privileged and lavish life.
As if fancy clothes and a big house could solve all her problems.
"None of your business," Emberly tried to hiss, but the strain in her voice was evident, "Go away,"
"Come now," the villain hummed, though softer, stepping closer, wedge shoes clacking on the asphalt, "I can't in good faith leave a pretty thing like you alone in a dark ally, a big bad wolf might just eat you for dinner,"
"I don't need your help," Emberly growled, burying her head in her knees. It felt like a cowardly action, which was the opposite of what she was going for, but she was trying to keep the villain from seeing the evidence of her crying as she got closer.
"Says the girl curled up in a dark ally far outside her castle walls," Vivian returned smoothly, "Let's at least get some light in here shall we?"
Emberly realized what she meant only a second too late as the villain held her hand out.
"DON'T!!!" Too slow. The glowing orb appeared above the villain's hand, and rays of light bounced off the hundreds of crystals lining the various surfaces around the scene. It felt like standing in a room of ten disco balls. What could have been thousands of tiny rainbows bounced around every surface. Like a funhouse mirror maze of stained glass and kaleidoscopes.
It was blinding, somehow illuminating the entire ally brighter than normal daylight.
Vivian gasped, wincing at the sudden brightness before dimming her magic down to a soft glow comparable to embers, "What the hell..." she muttered in what could have been mistaken for 'awe' as her eyes traced the scene.
Her gaze fell, finally noticing the now illuminated tear tracks and red around Emberly's steel-blue eyes.
It clicked.
"Oh..." the villain muttered in quiet disbelief and what sounded suspiciously like sorrow. Sympathy.
Emberly angrily pushed herself to her feet, steeling her features as she brushed herself off.
"You're..."
"You've no proof," Emberly growled, clenching her fists.
"Easy,-" the villain tried,
"These were here when I got here," the girl snapped. Maybe it was a lame excuse but, Vivian didn't actually have any proof of the contrary. She began walking forward.
"Which brings me back to my original question," Vivian replied, sidestepping to cut the other off, "What it is you're doing here in the first place,"
Emberly went to shove past her, but a hand caught her arm.
In a quick few movements, Emberly whirled the other around, pushing Vivian back against a section of brick that was free of crystals, trying to avoid impaling her on the crystalline spikes.
The villain's eyes went wide in shock.
"I am not as helpless as I look," Emberly hissed.
This wasn't the first time she'd run off into this side of town, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd had to defend herself here either.
Vivian's face shifted to a smirk, which was the last thing Emberly saw before her own world became a blur.
"I gotta say princess," the voice came from right in front of her. Emberly blinked, realizing their positions had been effortlessly switched, except the villain had her well and truly pinned, a forearm across her chest and both wrists trapped in Vivians other hand above her head.
"You're quite something, aren't you? You get more and more interesting by the second. It's been a while since someones managed to get the upper hand on me, even if only for a second. I'm impressed, didn't expect the kitten to have claws,"
Then her eyes seemed to flick down over Emberly's still tear-stained cheeks, and her expression softened.
"However," the villain sighed, slowly releasing the other's wrists and taking a step back, "I'd much rather talk than fight, I've no interest in hurting you,"
"And *I* have no interest in *talking* to you," Emberly bit back, glaring.
Vivian side-stepped again, as if to block the other girl's exit once more, yet she held up her hands in a peaceful gesture, "Then don't say a word, simply listen, I'll make it quick,"
Emberly crossed her arms, but made no other move to leave.
"I'll even talk in hypotheticals, if that makes you less-"
A sharp glare made her pause as she struggled for the right word.
"-flighty,"
Emberly rolled her eyes.
"Let's say, *hypothetically*, you did possess powers. It would be a safe assumption that due to your parents, everyone is ignorant to them, at least family wise. And, say this-," she gestured to the various crystals around the ally, "-was you. Your powers are unstable. I doubt I need to tell you they react to emotion,"
Emberly rolled her eyes again, before realizing the action basically confirmed what Vivian was saying. She stiffened.
"So, a tip; not using your powers is what's making them volatile. Use them a little bit, even small things. It will keep the glass from overflowing,"
"Okay, let's say *hypothetically,* everything you said was true. Why on earth would I believe you? I'm on the enemy team here. How do I know using my powers won't just make them harder to contain? The big media frenzy around if I were to slip publicly would probably benefit you more than actually helping me would," Emberly argued, pushing herself off the wall and jutting out her hip.
"As cliche as this may sound; it's because I've been there, and I would've given anything for a guide at the time,"
"Oh yeah, sure, cuz' light is definitely dangerous when hard to control,. Nobody likes impromptu shadow puppets "
"I blinded my own mother," the villain said sharply, glaring.
Emberly's eye's widened, nearly choking on air from the speed of the sudden inhale, "Oh- gods- I'm-,"
"Regardless," Vivian stepped forward and reached into her interior coat pocket, pulling out a small business card and twirling it in her fingers effortlessly, "when it works, if you decide you'd like some more advice, this is my personal number,"
Emberly furrowed her brows as she took the small card on something akin to automatic, "you're giving *me* your personal number? How can you trust I won't give this to my mother? Why do you assume I'll even take your advice in the first place?"
"Because," Vivian replied as she took a step backwards, pitch-black hair blowing in the sudden breeze, "you're desperate; desperate enough to try anything,"
Then just like that, the villain turned and walked away.
Emberly stared at the retreating silhouette for a few moments, before looking down at the card.
She wanted to crumple the card in her hand, rip it to shreds and maybe even step on the pieces on the way out.
And yet...
She tucked it away.
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Both Ends Burning: Teaser
Vices Assemble: Chapter 5.1/?
Pairing: crime bosses!Stucky x fem reader
Words: ~1.8k
Summary: Steve isn’t too happy with how you handled things while he and Bucky were out of town.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m and f receiving oral, anal play, mmf threesome, mild daddy kink), almost no plot, sub Bucky, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!
A/N: I’m steadily working on completing this whole chapter, but felt like giving you all a little teaser since this section is pretty standalone. Enjoy!!
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!
Steve had been sullen and grumbly for the past 12 hours.
He’d been hesitant to leave you in charge while he and Bucky had to negotiate in Toronto, but Buck was adamant you could handle it, that they trusted you enough to make you number three and share their bed with you, they should be able to trust you to handle operations for a weekend. Plus, Sam was going to be there with you, what was the worst that could happen?
Apparently, you killing one of their capos by throwing him off a roof in front of the rest of them was the worst that could happen. Sam had sounded like he had been holding back laughter when he gave him the call, and Steve hadn’t even given him the chance to explain what had happened before he was almost crushing his phone in his fist.
Bucky was nothing but amused at the whole situation. Steve was such a drama queen, of course he was going to throw a damn tantrum. He muttered mindless endearments at his partner as he ranted on the flight back to New York, rolling his eyes as he listened to the man lament ever bringing you into the fold for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Baby, don’t act like that pussy wouldn’t have sucked you in no matter what.” God, the man was stubborn. You’d already made them a shit ton of money implementing your changes to their distribution network, but Steve needed to be in control.
“No, that’s all you Buck.” Still fuming like an volcano, he was constantly going back and forth between slapping your gorgeous face when he saw you and fucking the shit out of you until you agreed to be reasonable. “I’m not the one who thinks with my dick.”
“Maybe, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have you whipped, though, daddy.” Bucky just laughed when Steve growled at him, leave it to that cocky bastard to start using his pet name against him. You were such a bad influence.
They stopped their conversation when they pulled up to the offices, Steve shrugging uncomfortably when he stepped out of the town car and ignoring Bucky’s eager grin as he tried to come up with a way to get a handle on you.
He thought he might soften once he actually set eyes on you, but when they walked into the office to find you with your feet propped on the desk and sipping some gin while you laughed uproariously at something Sam said just made him angrier.
“Well, hello there boys!” You beamed between the two of them, winking wickedly at Steve before opening your arms to Bucky and letting him kiss you deeply when he crawled into your lap. “Did you miss me?”
“Get the fuck out, Sam.” Steve ran his hand over his face in frustration, glaring at you as you nipped at Bucky’s lips while keeping your eyes fixed on his.
“Sure thing, boss.” The man just shook his head as he stood from his lounging position. “Boss.” He nodded to Bucky. “Boss lady.”
“Bye Sammy!” You purred when Bucky started nuzzling at your throat, giving Steve a mocking pout. “That was awful rude, Stevie. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
“Seriously?” He just scoffed at you, trying not to lose focus when Bucky ripped your blouse open and popped your tits out of your bra so he could suck on your nipples with a low hum. “The name Gentry mean anything to you?”
“Oh, that.” You bit your bottom lip teasingly, tangling your fingers in Bucky’s hair while he whined against your breast. “That fucker deserved it.”
“I dunno what our most established lieutenant could have possibly done to deserve getting thrown off a fucking building.” He was trying his absolute best to keep from getting hard, but when you spread your legs wide so Buck could slide between them he almost lost it. “Please, enlighten me.”
“He- oh Bucky, baby, fuck.” Your eyelids fluttered when he dragged his tongue over your clothed core, the soft moan that escaped from you making Steve’s cock twitch. “He was stealing from you.”
“What?! Bucky, give it a fucking rest!” His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were creaking, the veins in his neck bulging as he tried to restrain himself from striding forward and ripping his baby boy from between your thighs so he could bury himself in you and fuck out his frustration.
“Nu-uh, you stay right there, baby.” You wrapped your thighs around Bucky’s head and held him close, grinding your hips into his face as he tugged your panties to the side and started dragging his tongue over your pussy in slow stripes. “That dumbass so-called ‘King of Manhattan’ started fudging his sales as soon as you brought in that new shit from Miami. God, Buck, right there.” His lips wrapped around your clit and you arched your back into him. “Trying to poach your established clients too, had to let the other assholes know that wouldn’t be tolerated.”
Steve was furious. Aside from the fact that one of those morons they had let roll over from the previous organization had betrayed, the fact that you had been right about not trusting those idiots was making him see red.
“What about the others?” He was going to murder someone, he didn’t think he’d ever been this angry, all he wanted was to fuck you and Bucky until he couldn’t think anymore.
“I’m auditing the other boroughs now… mmm.” Bucky must’ve found the right spot, because your entire body jolted suddenly while you let out a satisfied hum and almost snapped his neck with your thighs. “Aww, looks like daddy’s mad, why don’t you go help him out, baby?”
Bucky whined when you tilted his chin back with one finger, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks and chin covered in your slick as he turned slowly on his knees to face Steve. The blonde growled from deep in his chest when you stood up and gripped Bucky’s jaw, dragging him forward until you were practically throwing him at Steve’s feet. You bent to give him a sloppy kiss before straightening back up and cupping his cheek gently, using your other hand to undo Steve’s belt while you mouthed at his neck.
“You’re a manipulative bitch, you know that?” He rolled his eyes before turning his head to smash his lips to yours, groaning when you freed his cock and wrapped your fingers around it to slap against Bucky’s cheek.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m so good at my fucking job.” You purred when he sucked a bruise against your jaw, drawing your fist over his length while you guided Bucky’s head so he could suck on his balls. “Just fucking relax, Stevie.”
You gave Bucky a light slap before shoving Steve’s cock in his mouth, smirking at the desperate, muffled keen that escaped from his painfully stretched lips when he started fucking his own face. Steve let out a low moan when you stroked his tongue with yours, one of your hands winding through his hair while the other yanked his trousers the rest of the way down.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?” He gasped when you released him, pressing your lips over the curve of his shoulder while your hand slid down his spine and slowly traced over the upper curve of his ass. “Baby, Jesus.”
“Look at you taking such good care of your daddy, pretty boy.” Bucky whined around Steve’s cock at your praise, blinking up at him with big doe eyes while drool leaked from the corners of his mouth. “To answer your question, Stevie, I’m helping you relax.”
“Unh… fuck.” The way Steve’s voice cracked when you spat on his pretty hole before sliding a finger inside him had your clit throbbing, your chest pressed tight against his back as you kissed the back of his neck and started fucking him with your hand. “Oh god.”
“Close enough.” You could tell he wanted to growl at your cocky retort but then you were stroking his sweet spot and he couldn’t think about anything else.
Between the way you were stretching him open and Bucky was swallowing him whole his knees were starting to feel weak, his back arching when you slipped in a second finger so he could let you catch his lips with yours. Bucky was humming around Steve desperately as he gazed up at the two of you, his cock twitching as he brought a hand up to wind his fingers through Steve’s with a needy little whine.
“Shh, didn’t forget about you, baby.” Steve broke away from you reluctantly so he could look down at Buck, stroking his hair soothing as he started grinding his hips against his face. “Look so fucking pretty on your knees for your daddy. You want me to fill that gorgeous mouth with my cum?”
The pitiful whimper he let out was the only answer Steve needed, his pleasure already so close with the way you were milking him. You practically squeezed him from the inside and he choked on a moan, shoving his hips into Bucky’s face as his cock jerked and thick, warm ribbons of his cum shot against the roof of his mouth. He almost collapsed when you kept fucking him through it, prolonging his pleasure until poor Bucky was almost suffocating from the sheer volume of it.
“Buck? You good, pretty boy?” You were practically holding Steve up when he pulled out of Bucky’s mouth, running your fingers over his chest and beaming at the filthy grin the brunette gave you. “See Stevie? Nice and relaxed. You boys might want to get cleaned up, we’ve got a meeting in an hour. Something about a dead lieutenant.”
Steve couldn’t even muster the will to get angry as he collapsed into the chair behind him, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair when he rested his head on his knee and panted.
“Told ya, daddy.” Ok, now his annoyance was starting to come back. “She’s got you whipped.”
“You fucking brat.” He ignored the low chuckle Bucky gave him, his lips tracing over his thigh before he nuzzled into his hips. “I’m gonna take that sass out on your ass in front of that bitch tonight, just you fucking wait.”
#natalie writes#vices assemble#mob!stucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes#steve rogers x reader smut#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans character#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan characters#smut#eighteen and over#eighteen plus#do not interact if you are a minor
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Can I request something?!
We try to escape Overhaul but he catches us but as a punishment seeing as we don't like him he gives us to Rappa so he can do what he wants to us for a week and in the end we go back to him and he has you never wanting to even step out your room.
Is that fine? Anyways stay safe, drink water, wear a mask, and keep up the great work!

PARINGS: Rappa x AFAB! Reader
CW: yandere, watersports, noncon, facefucking, teasing, manhandling, scumbag rappa
AN: thank you nonnie!! <33
Kai had caught you trying to escape. Or rather, Rappa was the one who actually caught you, laughing and jeering at your cries and the pounding of your small fists on his back. Your captor was not amused in the slightest as his henchman emerged into his office with you tucked a little too snuggly over his shoulder.
“Caught your lil’ scrub tryin’ to escape, boss.” Rappa cackled, sitting you down on the chair in front of the yakuza leader’s desk. “Damn, does she squeal like a pig.”
He clapped his hand over your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. The man had taken a liking towards you, meaning to say that he enjoyed watching Kai dole out punishments for when you tried to escape or otherwise upset him, which wasn't hard to do.
“Yes, she does.” Kai sighed, brows furrowed deeply in irritation. “What am I going to do with you, pet? Do I not provide for you, care for you? How can I get you to behave, hm?”
Tapping a finger against his forehead, he signed and closed his eyes, slumping back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.
“I’ll never stop trying to escape because anywhere else is better than being here with you, Overhaul.” You spat venomously, squirming under Rappa’s tight grip. The man behind you just chuckled darkly.
“Say, boss...if the little lady here is so unhappy with you, why don't you put her on loan to someone for the time being? Let ‘em show her how good you are to her, eh?”
Kai quirked a brow at Rappa, immediately picking up what he was throwing down. He had half a mind to punish Rappa as well for his blatant display of insubordination and to dare to think he’d willingly give up his precious pet to him like she was a mere stray.
Ah, but the man did have a point. His pet needed to be taught how kind her master is, and Rappa is the perfect opposition to do so. A degenerate at heart, his underling, was rowdy, filthy, and above all, a bigger sadist than Kai was.
He knew the man loved nothing more than to watch him spank the poor thing until she was a sobbing, blubbering mess of “I’m sorry, Kai!” gasping and panting for air like she was on the verge of death. What a drama queen he had on his hands. But he treated you like a queen nonetheless, but your attitude was simply out of control at this point.
“I think Rappa’s right, dear. Why don't you spend the week with him? Take a break from me if I’m so intolerable.”
Ice ran through your veins as Rappa unceremoniously scooped you up from your chair, opting to throw you over his shoulder. Kai’s chuckle and Rappa’s jeers mixed with your protests as you squirmed and squealed in his monstrous grasp.
“I thought you said anywhere else would be better than being with me. Remember, this is the choice you made, darling.”
“Rappa, you're dismissed.”
With a wave of a gloved hand, your fate was sealed. The bulkier man nodded and smacked a large hand over your ass.
“You and me? We're gonna have some fun, little piggy.” ——— •
Settled on Rappa’s bed, if you could call a sparsely covered mattress that hadn't been washed in god knows how long a bed, your nerves were set ablaze watching the man undress. And he certainly made a show of it, flexing his muscles and winking at you all the while.
“Like what ya see, sweets?” He groaned, striking a pose in front of you in nothing but a wife-beater and a pair of boxers. Oogling couldn't be helped; the man was built like Adonis. Strong, fierce, and big. Much, much bigger than you were.
“I hope so, cause I definitely do.” He smirked, licking his lips as he stalked over to you. “Don’t ya about a thing, little piggy. Papa’s gonna take real good care of ya”
Climbing over you, he pinned you to the mattress with one hand and used the other to feel you up.
“Yeesh, yer stiff as a board. Maybe a little game will help loosen you up, piggy.”
Fingers crawled their way up to your torso and to your mouth, leaving a searing heat in their wake. His fingers snatched your tongue from your mouth, shoving themselves down your throat to choke you.
“This little piggy wants to choke on my cock.”
His insenstant cooing and grinning had your stomach turning in knots, helping the fingers in your throat gag you even further. The thumb pressed down on your tongue before spitting a glob down your throat.
“This little piggy wants to be squeezed real tight.”
The sing-song tone in his voice only served to heighten your fear. Of course, the bastard thought this was all a game to him and you his toy.
His grin only got wider as his hand crept down your throat and ghosted itself there, barely touching before lunging. A panicked yip flew from your mouth as he pinned you by your throat.
There was hardly any pressure, just a cage of fingers keeping you locked into his impossibly firm grip. The hand was more than large enough to circle your neck. You smell the grim on his fingers, the labor of his love for the Shie Hassaikai.
“Almost got ya, piggy!” He teased, licking a long strip up your cheek. God, his breath stunk.
“Keep up now; the fun’s just starting.”
His fingers seemed to leave a trail of grime as they traveled down to your exposed breasts. They groped and gripped at your tender flesh without finesse or technique. So rough and worn from all the fighting he does. Your right tit was cupped in his hand before he gave it a hard squeeze.
“This little piggy wants to be milked.”
Onto your left, giving your nipple a good tug and pinch.
“This little piggy wants to be sucked.”
Your squeals and cries only made him laugh harder, grunting when you squirmed against the leg in between your thighs.
“Aw, is baby girl gonna cry? Cause I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Every touch of the pads from his fingers made you even sicker than before. You could feel every place he touched, the disgusting filth they left in their wake. The continued down your stomach, stopping to tickle you softly on your sides.
“W-What are you doing?!”
Your laughter couldn't be contained as he got rougher and rougher, chuckling along with you as he pressed his face close to yours.
“Stop it! I-I’m going to pee!”
“Good. That's what I like to hear.” He grunted, pressing his elbow hard into your bladder all while tickling you. Shame and piss flushed out of you as he groaned, grinding his knee up against your wet, sloppy cunt.
“Look at that! Piggy’s finally rolling around in filth where pigs belong.”
“I can't wait to make a mess of you.”
Humiliation flushed your face and your body, feeling even more disgusted as you felt your own piss on your lower body.
Rappa stood up and took a good look at you, admiring his handy work. A flushed, tearful expression that could be fucked up even more, his favorite face to see. Especially on someone as beautiful as you.
Sitting you up, he sat behind you and took your hair into two separate ponytails before trying them off.
“There, perfect for gripping.”
A rough push landed you on the floor, naked and afraid. One hand grabbed both your ponytails at the same time and steered you to be seated facing his crotch.
“Open wide, piggy.”
You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough for one evening.
“Are you deaf? Open up, you bratty little bitch. Don't make me ask again unless ya fancy fighting me instead.”
Now that was a truly horrifying thought. The man could quickly kill you with a single punch and let Overhaul bring you back to life, only to do it again and again. Those men, especially Kai, had no qualms about taking your life when you decided to misbehave.
Considering your choices, you cut your losses and nodded, opening your mouth slowly and braced yourself for a brutal facefucking.
The man sunk himself into your throat, sitting there when he bottomed out. His hips twitched as you choked and gagged around his massive dick.
“Yeah.” He groaned, pulling out only to slam back in. “That's what I’m talkin’ about. Finally got ya to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”
Hips thrusting, he set a brutal pace into your mouth. Heavy balls slapped against your chin as your spit and tears made a mess of your face. He paid no mind to your shaking and struggling, only moaning when you choked particularly hard.
“Guess I gotta let ya up to breathe, huh piggy?”
Pulling himself out, he gave you a few seconds to cough and gulp in the air before nudging his way back into your warm, wet mouth.
“Can’t spoil you too much now.” He chuckled.
One hand gripping each ponytail, he tugged them tight and fucked your mouth with vigor. His hips slammed against your cheeks, sure to leave bruises as they started to sputter.
“Y-You’re just so cute, piggy. I can’t last long when you look at me like that.” He grunted, pulling your hair even tighter.
His cock hurt your throat horribly. You could feel the burn of every stroke and spasm into your mouth, tears streaming down your face even more from the pain. Your hair felt like it was going to be ripped out from the sheer amount of strength he was pulling it with.
His thrusts increased in pace as he chased his orgasm, opting to hold the back of your head flush against his crotch when he finally did cum. Making sure to swallow every last drop, Rappa didn't let you up until he was completely finished.
“Such a good girl for Papa.” Rappa jeered, picking you up off the floor by the throat and pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth.
Tossed onto the bed, he spread your legs wide and pressed a thumb to your dripping hole.
“And this little piggy wants to get fucked all night long.”
#yandere rappa#yandere rappa x reader#rappa#rappa x reader#yandere my hero academia#my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia#yandere mha#mha#yandere bnha#bnha#yandere x reader#yandere
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paradox burning ; the first time || ernst schmidt x fem!reader
gif credit to @/h-zemo
summary: reader and schmidt's first time being intimate together on board the cloverfield station
pairing: ernst schmidt x reader
word count: 3,164
warnings: minors dni, 18+, nsfw, virginity loss, blowjobs, innocence kink
a/n: this is set before the events of paradox burning! i had something originally posted for this but took and down and decided to flesh something out in a more one-shot style! hope y'all enjoy
translations: Mausi - mouse, Hündin - bitch
Schmidt came to your room as he always did, quietly making his way in fifteen minutes after midnight, when not a single person onboard was awake - except for the two of you. You kept the lights off, more so because of how late it was rather than just wanting some privacy. Your head tucked neatly on top of your pillow, your back facing the door as you waited for him to arrive.
He always liked to be sweet on you before jumping into anything too crazy. Taking his shoes off at the door so they wouldn’t track through your room and unzipped his suit, stepping out of it so he was in just his undershirt and boxers, crawling into your bed and under the covers, pulling you close to him as he kissed your cheek and jaw. You enjoyed the feeling of his bare legs on your own - his soft thighs pressed against you with your feet tangled at the bottom of the bed.
“You smell nice,” He noted, his nose grazing across your hair before you rolled onto your back, staring up at him in the dark. “Did you shower?”
Schmidt’s question only made you laugh, your hands finding his face through the dark, running your right thumb across his cracked lips while your other stroked his face. You grinned and let out a squeak when you felt his teeth nip at your thumb.
“Of course I showered, I worked all day in the medbay,” You explained, shifting a bit under him so you were laying up higher on your bed, face closer to his, “That and I wanted to get ready for you.”
Your bold statement took Schmidt back a bit, his head leaning back to look down at you more, a puzzled look on his face, although his smile still toyed at the corner of his mouth. “Get ready for me?” He repeated, making sure he heard you correctly. “Is there something I should know?”
At first you thought of teasing him, making him guess as to why you got so freshened up for him, but the nerves that coiled in your stomach hardly let you take the initiative you knew you’d have to before things got too heated.
When you sat up, pushing him to lay on his back while you straddled his lap, Schmidt’s mouth hung open, trying to gather his thoughts while he sat back into your pillows that you had on your bed, staring up at you.
“I wanna do something else tonight. Something we haven’t done yet,” You explained, slowly rocking your hips against him. You smiled and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and off him, tossing it onto the ground beside your bed. Your hands ran up his stomach, then his chest, before placing your hands on his neck and leaning to his ear, lips pressing against him. “I want you to fuck me tonight, Ernst.”
The moan that escaped him surprised him more than it did you. He hadn’t expected to hear that, nor the filth that came out of your mouth. You were always polite, respectful - if Schmidt were to really think about it, he probably had only ever heard you swear once, and he never let you live it down.
“Shit!” You gasped, the medicine vial slipping from your hand and falling to the floor, crashing down onto the tile and cracking, the contents spilling onto the floor.
Before it soaked through anything and made a bigger mess, you dropped to your hands and knees to wipe it up. Moving quickly, you cleaned up the mess and threw away the soaked rags, leaning back on your heels, lifting your clipboard for inventory off the ground beside you and made note of the accident and loss of the vial.
“Such filth, what would the doctor say if he heard you?”
The scream that escaped from you only made Schmidt smile wider, your body jumping out of your skin as you dropped the clipboard, clutching at your chest as you closed your eyes, catching your breath before looking at him and lifting your clipboard back up, swinging it at his legs and smacking him.
“Ernst! Why do you have to do that?” You whined, your head craning to look up at him while he hovered above you, his fingers finding your hair and playing with it, twirling it in his fingers. You could feel your cheeks growing red at his gentle touch, but still kept your eyes on him.
“It’s so easy to scare you, you know that?” He loved sneaking up on you. When you were working in the medbay and in your own medical thoughts. He especially loved how sexually frustrated you got with him, yet still with all his suggestive moves, still never made a move on him. “Do I frighten you, mausi?”
You felt his fingers run across your jaw, holding you in place as you stared up at him, his thumb brushing against your lips before he daringly pushed it between your lips and into your mouth. At this point his pupils were blown, the honey-colored irises darkened.
It was bold of him to push his luck with you, always doing something new to make you squirm under him. You were so innocent, so kind, giving him the time of day when others didn’t. Perhaps that’s what made him adore you so much...not just how sweet you were in general, but the way you made him feel. Safe, like he wasn’t as bad as everyone else made him to be.
His thumb tasted like the station’s generic soap in your mouth, although it wasn’t bad. It was bitter, yes, but it was faint and you were so lost in the moment that you didn’t care to have the taste in your mouth. You kept your eyes locked on him, watching as his mouth gaped open, watching you contently as he pressed his thumb deep into your mouth. What you did next not only surprised him, but yourself as well.
Your cheeks hollowed around his thumb and the moan that escaped your throat vibrated against his thumb, shooting up his hand and through his body. You sucked on his thumb carefully, shyly as you weren’t entirely sure if you were doing this right - but Schmidt’s own reaction was enough to keep you going.
And every reaction after that kept you going. You had never dated someone, at least not serious enough to do anything with. You never felt comfortable enough to go far with someone, always too nervous or shy with your own body to do much more than kiss. But Schmidt was different, he brought something out in you that you never thought was there.
“Are you sure?” He asked, feeling your lips press against his cheek, falling down his jaw before sucking on his sweet spot, a groan escaping him as his hands sank into your waist, guiding you as you continued to rock your hips against his growing cock. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anyth-”
“Ernst.” You groaned, pulling back to look at him. Your movements stopped which only displeased Schmidt, his hands gripping you tighter to try and get you to move again to relieve the pressure before you pressed your hands flat to his chest, pushing you back onto the bed and hovered over him.
“If you don’t do it, I’ll get Volkov in here too.” You threatened and if you weren’t Schmidt’s precious thing, he would have ruined you then and there.
But the comment got you what you wanted, and gave Schmidt the confirmation he needed to know just how much you wanted it. In one swift motion, Schmidt grabbed you and settled you on your back in your bed, switching positions so he was above you now.
“Is that it? You want that hündin to come in here and fuck you?” He wiggled his way in between your legs, keeping them spread open while he ran his right hand down your thigh, pressing his fingers against your cunt above your underwear, “You think he’ll be gentle with you? Or is that what you want, to not be treated nicely?”
You whined when you felt his fingers rub against you, your legs pressed into Schmidt’s sides as he continued. When you felt his fingers push aside your underwear, you tensed for a moment before gasping at the feeling of his index and middle finger pushing inside you, filling you up.
“My god you’re tight,” He panted, continuing to hit his fingers inside of you while his thumb rubbed at your clit. “I don’t think I’ll fit in you, mausi, I’m gonna be too big for you. Maybe Volkov is the one who should do this-”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head as legs wrapped around Schmidt’s waist, his free hand holding onto your thigh to keep you close. “No, I want you. I only want you.”
The tears in your eyes, not out of fear or sadness - but just because of the intensity of everything, made Schmidt frown, realizing perhaps he had gone too far with his joke. Slowing his fingers to a stop, pulling them out of you to hold your other thigh, Schmidt leaned down and kissed away your tears.
“Liebling, I’m sorry - was I being too harsh?” He pressed himself against you, laying on you while he comforted you, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
You shook your head, feeling his calloused thumbs now move and wipe your tears away. You weren’t upset at all, at least not with him. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach became too much for you. It was the feeling you always got when you and Schmidt did stuff, but mixed with your nerves now of going all the way, you just couldn’t hold anything back.
“I know, I know. I just-”
“We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m fine stopping and we can just lay in bed,” He moved your face to his, pressing his forehead against your own. You could feel his glasses slipping down his nose and resting on you, causing you to smile, “I want you to be ready to do this.”
You nodded, crinkling your nose at the weight of his glasses falling onto you before he smiled and pulled back, noticing how his glasses were and set them on your nightstand, his hands moving to your hair when he returned back to his position on you, stroking your hair.
“I want this, I do. I’m just, nervous, I guess.” You admitted, laughing a little while he bent down to kiss your forehead.
“I’ll go slow, okay? You just tell me if there is something you need me to do.”
And he did, he went so slow - painfully slow at times. But he wanted you to cherish the moment, and he wanted to cherish the moment with you. He was the one you were letting take away something so special and pure. He was the one you were going to let ruin you. He could be a dick, but with something like this, he knew it wasn’t something he could take advantage of.
He had seen you naked before, but he still wanted to take his time undressing you, pressing kisses along your breasts, stomach, and then thighs as he made his way lower down you. As he pulled your underwear off, he smiled and sat up, holding onto them in his right hand to show you before tossing them with his clothes that were now equally discarded onto the floor.
“I’m keeping those.” He stated, moving back up to adjust himself in between your legs, getting ready to finally press himself into you.
You weren’t creeped out by the mention of him keeping your underwear, but you did laugh, smiling against his lips when he kissed you before pulling away. “Why are you keeping them?” You asked, looking at him strangely.
“Keepsake, for tonight.”
His wink your way only made you roll your eyes, you let him wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him sit up a bit. “You’re weird.”
“Yes, well, you love it.” And you hummed in response, smiling as he lined himself up at your entrance. You had seen in dozens of times, but in that moment you were too scared to look - knowing that it was going to hurt at first, and you didn’t want to sike yourself out.
“I’ll go slow, okay? It’s going to hurt at first, but it’ll feel good eventually,” He paused and rubbed your thighs, watching as you nodded, “Do you trust me?”
“Of course...always.” You promised, your hands gripping the sheets of your bed.
Schmidt nodded and leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours for a moment before adjusting himself back up in between your legs. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed himself in you, groaning at how painfully tight you were. God, I’m going to ruin her.
He took a deep ragged breath as he settled fully in you, looking up towards you face to make sure you were doing okay. You had your eyes closed, face squished as if you were trying to not make a noise.
“Hey, look at me,” Schmidt whispered, reaching up to hold your face. You opened your eyes slowly and blinked away the tears, “Keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”
And what he meant was that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. He wouldn’t let his own pleasure overtake your own and ruin this for you. It took everything inside of him to not rut in you like a dog in heat, but he went slow because he cared about you - whether he said it to you enough or not.
You kept your eyes on Schmidt, your right hand finding his left that was on your cheek and squeezing his hand. You knew the pain was dulling down, now that he was in you completely, you could only hope the pleasure that would come after would mask the pain.
When Schmidt began to slowly thrust in and out of you, moaning from how tight and wet you were, you squeezed your legs around him. Your head fell back into the pillows as you moaned out, only causing Schmidt to pick the pace up a little.
“Does it feel good, liebling? Am I making you feel good?” He whispered, grunting when he felt you squeeze around his dick, “You keep doing that and I’m going to not be able to last much longer.” He teased.
Your lips pulled into a thin smile, back arching as he continued to hit in you, the pain finally turning to pleasure and you began to enjoy it. “You feel so good, Ernst, please don’t stop.”
Ernst. God, did you have to make his name sound so sexy? He leaned forward and latched onto your breast, suckling at your left nipple before moving to your right. While your left hand was still latched to the sheets, your other found it’s way to his hair, your fingers tangling through his dark locks. You didn’t mean to pull at his hair, but you were surprised when he didn’t hiss in pain, but rather groan in pleasure.
You smiled when he pulled up, looking down at you with his lips wet from saliva, forehead damp from sweat. His pupils were blown like your own, his body pressing down against you once again as he kept going in you.
“Please, Ernst, don’t slow down. I-I think I’m close.” You rushed, feeling your toes curl and your stomach coil tightly. It felt like something was burning in you, but not in painful way - in a pleasurable way. You had had orgasms before, but it was never like this.
And Schmidt didn’t slow down. He kept sure to be gentle, but quickened his pace, his own orgasm on the rise as he felt his dick twitch in you. “I’m not gonna stop, I-, fuck!”
He sat up quickly to his knees, moving his hands back down to your thighs to hold onto as he reached his high with you. When you moaned out, crying out his name before collapsing back into the bed, he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would be in the same boat as you.
Pulling out carefully, Schmidt stood up from the bed and wrapped his hand around his dick, pumping slowly while you sat up and onto your knees, still trying to catch your breath before you opened your mouth wide. If he wasn’t so drunk off you and the moment, he probably would have let you rest - but you were so eager to swallow him and the look in your eyes made him feel so good inside, like he was your everything.
You didn’t have to do much besides let your mouth be his sleeve, warming him until you felt his load spurt into your mouth and down your throat. When grabbed the back of your head, keeping you still on him until he came down, he pulled back slowly, watching you swallow. There was a little that fell from your mouth and he swiped it away with his thumb, watching you turn and give his thumb a kitten lick.
Schmidt smiled and and caressed your face afterwards, “You did so good. How are you feeling?” He asked, helping you up off the bed and towards your bathroom so the two of you could clean up. You held onto him the entire way, your legs still wobbly from the sex.
“I feel like I just got off a really intense fair ride,” You admitted with a laugh, looking up at him before smiling sincerely, “But it was good. Really good.” You leaned into his touch when he kissed your forehead, humming quietly before climbing into the shower with him.
Schmidt took his time with you, carefully washing your body and making sure to clean you up but not overstimulate your sensitive spots. He enjoyed washing your hair staring at your face as you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. He especially enjoyed when you insisted on washing his back, feeling your hands massage at the knots in his back from work.
When the two of you finally cleaned up, making your way back into your bed for the night, Schmidt pulled you close to his chest, kissing the back of your head. In that moment he knew that you weren’t just any girl, but his girl - and he could only hope that one day that his own insecurities would allow himself to tell you how he felt, how you weren’t just a play thing for him, but something more.
And as you fell asleep, you dreamt of a future off the station, when the energy crisis was solved and you were back home, back home and with Schmidt by your side.
#paradox burning#nebula fading#ernst schmidt#ernst schmidt imagine#ernst schmidt smut#ernst schmidt x reader#ernst schmidt x you#minors dni#the cloverfield paradox#blurbs
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