#getting black body paint is gonna be hard though
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dadsbongos · 3 days ago
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851 words. jimmy wants to kill your mom for you ~~~
Have you ever wanted someone dead?
Jimmy has -does- and it burns him up from the inside. This time hotter than the rest because last time he said it out loud he had a beer bottle thrown at the back of his head. 
Even now something in the back of his throat won’t let him get it out, despite the closest object to you being a tinky black remote. So he watches, silently, as you fold one arm over the over across your chest and bare down the woman that bore you. 
Beneath scratchy teal sheets pulled up to her chin, she sweats simply sleeping. Over those sheets run thin clear tubes, looping around the back of her head and pumping up her nostrils with crisp air. A white slat is pulled over her lap, plastic cups painted with brown and yellow mush streaks littered over it. Spoons drying into each bowl. Jimmy would never be able to guess how much each little scrap is running on your wallet, and he doesn’t care to… or at least tries to tell himself he doesn’t.
Unfortunately, it’s all he thinks about. 
Centered in his chest, just a skosh right of his heart and way above his gut, is that burning sensation telling him the same things over and over. With every visit, the whispering gets louder.
Your mother had insurance, but he’s seen you bent over the kitchen table mumbling about hospital bills either way. Not to mention, with the sour way things look, funeral bills eventually.
“She’s sleeping,” he bites, boot clacking impatiently on the linoleum. 
“I know,” tone firm enough to tell him everything you didn’t say. Conversation fizzles out there for now.
Jimmy knows. You know. Nurses know.
Without that tank clicking oxygen into her chest, she’s gone -- maybe a brief sputter, the final kickback of a motor skimming the bottom barrel for oil, but she’ll die. 
If Jimmy meandered over to the other side of the bed where you weren’t able to see, and if he pinched the tube between thumb and forefinger long enough then she probably wouldn’t even rouse to fight. Twitch, maybe.
You’re better for it, if he does.
He asked you once why you’re trying so hard, pushing so fiercely and more stubbornly than he knows you’ve pushed anything (i thought you hated the old bitch). You just told him to mind his business (fuck you, jimmy, that’s my mother).
Suddenly, you take a step back and shudder, wiping both hands down the length of your face and sniffling, “I gotta pee.”
Red eyes peek at him from between stiff fingers, cracked apart over your cheeks. Bent brows and wobbling lips. You’re not gonna piss, you’re gonna scream into your hands and cry. Which he’s sure the hospital bathrooms see more of than any other fluid.
Jimmy blinks up at you. If you’re going to the bathroom you’re not here.
“Don’t fall in,” he mumbles.
Nodding and patting him on the shoulder as you pass, Jimmy can see the tear glittering down your lashes before you make it out. As soon as your body’s faded from view, and your footsteps fall a little quieter than before: he’s up on his feet. Dirt-stained sneakers cake across the waxy floors, squeaking right up beside your mother.
Brown eyes flick up between the steel door frame once before he’s reaching down for the clear tube -- hesitating inches away, just long enough to visualize his mugshot on the news.
Euthanasia is only legal in dogs, he thinks. Technically, even though she’s got all the conversational skills of broccoli and lays here like a metal beam, this is murder. Could probably get him locked away for the rest of his life. Put behind rusty bars with gnarly types: real murderers, the kinds that decapitate and cut their girls open. Jimmy wouldn’t do that to you, he just wants to kill your mom.
Make your life a little easier.
Her still sucking wind through these flimsy pipes is draining your savings. Gray hairs scattered across your pillow, at this rate the stress of her being alive is going to put you into the grave. Every crash like this is always preceded by her spontaneous burst of good health; she’ll run a marathon just to end up in the ER next month. Pushing and pulling, snuffing out hope just as it flourishes. 
The bipolarity isn’t good for your health. Neither would be having your boyfriend arrested for Mom’s murder.
So he steps on the tube with his foot instead. Shirking hard on the toes to make sure all that sweet air pinches right the fuck off.
Just as he thought, she doesn’t pop up. Barely scrunches that wrinkled, angry face before the twitching starts. First at her shoulders concentrating around the chest, then her legs, and then her hands. Cinching around thin teal sheets like they could do anything for her. They don’t even keep out the cold.
Getting the final act of bereavement finished will be better for you, he knows that. In a weird way, he’s just trying to help.
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celestiachan · 2 years ago
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it's april and I'm already thinking about my Halloween costume
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rbfclassy · 7 months ago
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MY PRETTY (EX) WIFE! — GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS...your ex husband gojo gets word of your date with some other guy and goes out of his way to pay you a visit while you’re getting ready
INFO...ex husband!gojo x fem!reader, you and gojo have a kid, possessiveness, jealously, groping, grinding, pet names (pretty wife, baby), fucking you from behind over the sink, hair pulling, love-bomb, talks of giving you another kid, breeding, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Your ex husband Gojo is an absolute menace when it comes to your dating life. Somehow he ends figuring out that you’re talking to/seeing some guy. How’d he find out? Probably paid suguru to spy on you to be honest. But besides all that, he will go out of his way to ruin your dating life and it absolutely pisses you off. He’d show up to your house thirty minutes before your date, using the spare key that he still (somehow) had to make his way in. No surprise that you were absolutely startled to see him appear in the mirror behind you as you were applying your mascara. His eyes scan over you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you’re all dolled up over some mediocre man that could never be him. Your nails and toes are painted the same color, your hair is freshly done, and the dress you were wearing was one of Gojo’s favorites.
“What are you doing here?” You huff, closing your mascara and placing it back in your bag.
“Came to visit, had some free time.” He leaned against the door frame.
“Free time?” You turn towards him. “You were supposed to watch our daughter, Gojo.” You turn back around, searching in your bag for your lip liner.
“Don’t worry! She’s with aunt Shoko.” He smiles. “Plus, I heard you had a little date tonight. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
You exhale in annoyance, knowing that you’ll never be able to live a peaceful life if your one and only ex husband is breathing down your neck and figuring out everything about you, watching your every move. “Yeah, so? Aren’t I allowed to have a little free time of my own?”
“Of course you are, sweetheart. As the mother of my kid, you’re allowed whatever you want. Don’t worry too much, I have a date of my own, so I won’t be in your hair too much longer.” He was lying straight through his teeth, watching your face in the mirror intently to see if he could catch a glimpse of any jealousy.
“Congrats,” you simply responded, grabbing your lipstick.
“I will say though, you look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” Gojo walked up behind you, examining the curve of your back as you leaned over the counter. “It’s my favorite.” His large palm ran up the curve, slowly, before gliding back down to the roundness of your ass.
“Gojo.” You pull his hand away, shaking your head with the roll of your eyes. “You’re not ruining this for me.” The tone of your voice came off as a warning. Yet, Gojo continued to run his hands all over your body, holding onto your waist as he pressed himself against you.
“Afraid that you’re gonna give in? There’s no shame in fucking your ex husband,” he whispered, rubbing his bulge against your ass. He pulled you back against him, a small groan leaving his lips.
You threw your lipstick back in your bag, eyes shutting as you tried to resist the temptation that was Gojo. It was so, so hard. The expensive cologne he wore filled your lungs, his sultry voice in your ear, the softness of his hands as they held onto you. Goddamnit, why does he always make you feel like this? You swore up and down that you wouldn’t fall for his tricks again and here you are, rubbing your ass on him. You look back over your shoulder, taking in his broad shoulders and tall build, the black compression shirt he was wearing defined his muscles so well. His hair so effortlessly falling along the sides of his face. What were you doing? What were you thinking? “Be quick.”
“Atta girl, that’s all you had to say.” Within seconds, he’s bunching your dress up around your hips, pulling your panties down as they fall around your ankles. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his bulbous tip tease your entrance, running it up and down your slit. You grip onto the bathroom counter as you feel him push inside of you, the stretch so deliciously intoxicating, your jaw slack. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight,” he lets out a mix between a groan and chuckle, hand coming down to grip onto your hips as he thrusts into you.
His thrusts are deep and fast, a sign that he’s been waiting to be inside of you, waiting to fuck you since the last time. He presses down on your lower back, pushing you down more as he angles his cock just right so he could hit your sweet spot. “F-fuck!” You gasp. “Yes! Right there!” Gojo knew you like the back of his hand, knew every one of your weaknesses and strengths, and most of all how to please you. After being your husband, it’d be a shame for him not to know how to make his pretty wife cum, right? He knows what makes you purr, he knows how to get your eyes rolling back.
“Shit, this pussy is so wet—fuck!” He grabs your leg, propping it up on the bathroom counter, wanting to be able to reach deeper, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. Gojo watches you through the mirror, taking delight in the expression on your face. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, eyes glazed over as you tried to hold back your moans, yet you were failing. His cock dragged along your velvety walls, your brain turning into mush as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Satoru!” You moaned, his name rolling off of your tongue so smoothly. His fingertips dug into your skin, gripping tightly as he felt you clench around him, sucking him back in every time he threatened to pull away. It was like your pussy was made for him.
“My pretty fucking wife,” he huskily whispered in your ear as he pressed his chest up against your back. His hand gripped a fistful of your hair, turning your head towards him before placing his lips on yours. He swallowed your moans as your tongues sloppily moved against each other, lips moving in sync with his. He pulled away, staring down at you with such a primal look in his eyes, one that sent shivers through your entire body. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you basked in the feeling of pleasure. “You’re all mine. Fucking mine. Everything.”
“‘Toru,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m close! Mmm, fuck, please don’t stop! Please, please keep fucking me!” You begged. His hips slammed against yours, lewd squelches from your pussy mixed with you and gojos moans was like something out of a porno. Each thrust had your eyes rolling back, the pleasure starting to overwhelm you as another orgasm was forced on the edge. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You screamed, body shaking against his hold as your orgasm overtook your entire self.
“That’s it, baby, cum for me. Cum around this dick. No one can fuck you like this, no one but me. Pussy was made for me.” His lips were pressed up against your ear, darting his tongue out to lick your skin. He continued his ministrations, movements becoming sloppy as he chased his own orgasm, the sheer feeling of you squeezing around him sent his brain into overdrive. “Look at me.” He gripped your chin. “You love me?” He asked, soaking up the look of your watery eyes. “Gonna have my baby again, huh? Make you a mommy.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he pounds into you.
“Yes, yes, I love you.” You nod, staring up at him with doe eyes, tears pricking the corners. “I love you.” The words are barely above a whisper.
“Fuckkk.” Those three words were all Gojo wanted to hear from you, the sound of your voice brining him closer and closer to his orgasm. “I love you too, baby.” The feverish kiss he lands on your lips sends you into a spiral, his hips moving sporadically, making your legs shake.
“Cum in me, please. I want it.” You’re breathing heavily, the consequences of your words no longer existing to you as you relish in the moment.
“Shiiit!” Gojo thrusts deeply into your once more, holding himself there as thick ropes of his cum coat your walls. “Ohhh, mmmm, fuck me!” He lets out a shaky breath, cum still spurting from the head of his cock. You whimper at the feeling of him filling you up, slowly removing himself from you. He chuckled as he watches his cum ooze out of you, dripping down to your clit before he pushes it back in with his thumb. “Goddamn, baby.” He lands a smack on your ass, squeezing it as he looks at you, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. His eyes avert to your phone, seeing that it was ringing, a name he’s never heard of displayed on the screen. “Uh oh.” He picks up your phone, seeing all the missed calls from what he assumes is your date. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“What?” You completely blanked out, forgetting about the date you had. “Fuck.” You groan in annoyance, snatching your phone from him. “I forgot. What do I say?” You look towards Gojo for help.
“Who gives a shit. You’re with me now.” He snatches the phone back, placing it on the counter. “Let’s get in the shower, c’mon.” He pecks your lips.
“You’re so annoying,” you playfully replied, rolling your eyes with a scoff.
repost from my old account
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hcneymooners · 13 days ago
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⋆ angel of mine; i’m probably gonna think about you all the time.
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biker!sevika x stripper!chubby!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: when you get news of your grandmother’s declining health, you pack what’s left of your life in miami and begin to head home. on the way you meet enigmatic stranger sevika, who gives you a ride.
wc: 10k
cw: age difference! stripper!reader, chubby!reader, fem!reader, mommy issues, implied melvika, implied melvika x reader, strangers to lovers, roadtrips, biker!sevika, resolved sexual tension, codependency, found family, dysfunctional families, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibition kink (implied), degradation, name-calling, dom/sub, dom!sevika, sub!reader, hyperfemme!reader, lowkey sugar mommy!sevika.
notes: you can definitely tell i’m southern in this piece. i love the south despite it not loving me (black, sapphic, & female) back. so much of florida contains my family and love though i left it. i hope that comes through. i’m really proud of this and i hope you enjoy. so sorry for any typos i may have missed. let me know what you think & if you want a full melvika x reader pt. ii ! i love you. 𓆉⋆。˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°
playlist: lana born to die: paradise album. listen here.
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The white teeth of Miami were always going to eat you alive.
That’s what your grandmother used to say, her voice crackling over the phone, sweet but certain, the way only old women could be. She didn’t say it to scare you—just to remind you that the city, for all its glitter and heat, had sharp edges. She was a lioness, and you were good meat.
You’d felt it too, walking barefoot along the highway, heels swinging in one hand and your purse in the other. The sunset was dying behind you, streaks of cotton candy pink, baby blue, and tangerine smeared across the horizon like someone had finger-painted the sky in haste.
Your cheeks still sparkled faintly under the fading light, remnants of glitter you hadn’t scrubbed off from work. It clung stubbornly, refusing to let go. You’d braided the front of your hair into two plaits that went straight back, falling apart in the middle to join the rest of the mass—wavy and tinsel-streaked. It was your “mermaid hair” as your younger sister loved to call it. You blinked heavily, your 60s-style lashes dragging their soft bodies across your plush cheeks.
The ache in your feet was grounding though, pulling you out of the haze of the club—the strobe lights, the bass that rattled in your ribs, the haze of too many eyes on you.
You’d gotten through the night, but just barely. Grandma’s sick. That had been the thought looping in your head as you swayed under the lights, pretending to be something more desirable than tired. Your mother had called, her voice small and broken. She wouldn’t tell you where she was. I’ll be home tomorrow, you’d promised anyway and then you climbed back on the stage.
You’d scraped together what you could tonight, but not enough for both a cab and the medicine your grandmother needed. The last bus out of town was fucked, something about a technical failure. So, you walked, the stretch of highway endless, the heat still radiating off the asphalt like it was sinking into hell.
You were so distracted by both your raging anxiety and oncoming hunger that the headlights caught you off guard. A single beam at first, low and flickering, until the growl of the engine grew louder, sharper, swallowing the silence. You turned instinctively, lifting a hand to wave—desperation bleeding through the gesture.
The motorcycle slowed. It wasn’t just a machine; it was an extension of her.
Its rider was tall and broad-shouldered, her presence filling the space before she even spoke. A thick, short braid of dark hair hung over her shoulder, catching the light like polished onyx, and her face was all hard angles—sharp jaw, strong brow, a faint scar cutting through her upper lip. She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight on a prosthetic arm that gleamed silver in the twilight. Her eyes, cold at first glance, raked over you, measuring.
For the millionth time that night, you became painfully aware of your appearance. You hadn’t had much time to change before rushing out, so you were stuck in a turquoise spaghetti-strap tank that clung uncomfortably to your skin and a pair of low-rise grey sweatpants, the faded mall-brand logo on the hip barely holding on.
Your purse—a tiny baby pink crossbody clutch—was stretched to its limit, struggling to close over your overstuffed Polo Assn. wallet, its dark brown leather warped by thick stacks of crumpled bills and nearly maxed-out credit cards.
A single white earbud perched in your left ear, the mile-long wire snaking under the loose neckline of your tank and into your hands, where your phone gleamed faintly in the glare of her headlights. Glittery gold, covered in 3D bubble stickers of pale pink and cream roses—your little sister’s handiwork.
Between the heat of the phone and the plastic of the case, you’d tucked a Polaroid: you, your sister, and your aunt, all dolled up in perfect makeup and hoop earrings, the three of you grinning wide enough to make the moment feel permanent. Behind the photo, folded neatly, was a note.
The faintest whiff of smoke clung to you, softened by bellini, cherry, and peach. You’d tried hard to be sweet, always sweet, but it wasn’t enough to cover the night’s work. Especially not tonight.
“You lost?” she asked, her voice gravelly, low, like the rumble of her engine hadn’t entirely faded.
“Not lost,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Just… trying to get home.”
You were always trying to go home.
She raised a brow, glancing at your bare feet and the glitter still dusting your face. “Long walk.”
You shrugged, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your face.
“No choice.”
For a moment, she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, before she nodded toward the seat behind her.
“Hop on. I’ll get you there.”
You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the gleam of her prosthetic, the way it contrasted with the calloused hand gripping the throttle.
“What’s your name?” you asked, finally, your voice quieter now.
She huffed faintly, tilting her head. “Sevika. And you?”
You gave her your name, your voice carrying the weight of gratitude but a lack of trust. You weighed your options—you had none—and decided that you could only hope she wasn’t insane.
You thought of the note in your phone case.
“Lord, I confess i want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. Like everyone else, I want a storm I can dance in. I want an excuse to change my life. Lord if I say bless the cold water you throw on my face, does that make me a costume party. Am I greedy for comfort if I ask you not to kill my friends if I beg you to press your heel against my throat - not enough to ruin me, but just so I can almost see your face.” (x.)
Then, without another word, you climbed onto the bike, your fingers brushing against her shoulders as you steadied yourself.
The engine roared, and the wind hit your face, carrying you forward into the night. You bent your neck, tucked your head into her back, and began to pray.
You woke to a soft hand on your skin.
“Hey. You up?”
The words were quiet, almost careful, but they pulled you from the thin edge of sleep. For a moment, you were disoriented. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, white with faint water stains bleeding outward like bruises. The couch beneath you creaked as you shifted, and smelled of saltwater and lavender. There was a thin blanket draped over your shoulders but it felt impossibly heavy, anchoring you in place.
Sevika was leaning over you, her face shadowed but sharp in the dim light spilling from another room. Her hand lingered on your hip, her touch surprisingly gentle.
“Come on,” she said, her voice low and gravelly, rasping against the quiet. “Mel wants to meet you.”
“Mel?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.
“She lives here. She’s… persistent,” Sevika said with a dry edge, stepping back to give you room to sit up. “And she’s got a thing for taking care of strays. Don’t worry, she’s nice. Nicer than me, anyway.”
The apartment was small, but the stomach of it was softened by a clear effort to make it feel like home.
The walls were painted a pale cream, though the paint was peeling in the corners, and the floors were scuffed wood. The furniture was mismatched, but there was a warmth to it—a knitted throw slung over the back of the couch, a row of half-burned candles on the coffee table, the faint scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air.
The windows were open, letting in the salt-thick breeze of the early morning, and a line of photos pinned to the wall swayed slightly, the string barely holding on.
Mel appeared in the doorway to what must have been the bathroom, her figure backlit by the soft, yellow glow. She was taller than you’d expected, her frame lithe but strong, and her black braids pooled over her shoulders like an oil spill, gleaming in the dim light. She held a cherry red hairbrush in one hand and a small bottle of lotion in the other, her brown skin catching the light beautifully.
“You’re awake,” she said, her voice rich but cautious. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, warm but searching.
Most people tended to treat you this way. It was as if you were a scared animal and they were trying to coax you in.
You nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.
“Yeah. Sorry—I didn’t mean to intrude here.”
“You didn’t,” Mel said quickly, stepping closer. Her tone softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Sev doesn’t bring people home unless she has a reason. You must’ve needed it.”
You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Your gaze flicked to Sevika, who leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her broad chest, her prosthetic glinting faintly in the soft light. She was watching the two of you, her expression unreadable.
“I’ve seen you before,” Mel said suddenly, drawing your attention back to her. Her smile turned wistful. “At The Siren, right?”
The mention of the club sent a ripple of recognition through you. You nodded slowly, and Mel’s expression shifted, her eyes softening further.
“I thought so,” she murmured. “You helped me once, in the bathroom. I was… having a bad night. You were so sweet.”
The moment came back in pieces. Her face streaked with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke about her mother, about leaving home. You’d handed her a tissue, touched her shoulder lightly, said something comforting.
“I remember,” you said softly, your voice catching in your throat.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Mel said, her gaze steady. “But I’m glad you did.”
She knelt in front of you, holding up the brush. “Let me help you. You’ve had a long night.”
You hesitated, but something in her expression, in the calm warmth of her voice, made you nod. She guided you to the bathroom, which was small and tidy, the mirror rimmed with salt stains and seashells.
As she brushed your hair, her touch was careful, her fingers grazing your scalp like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.
“You’ve got beautiful hair,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice faint. “You smell nice.”
Her laugh was quiet, and you felt the warmth of it root deep in your chest.
“Coconut oil,” she said, but there was a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Mixed with vanilla. I like to smell dewey and sugary. Kind of like you.”
You smiled tiredly at her in the mirror, lifting a hand to pat at her wrist. The tender powder pink of your acrylics were bright against it. Behind you, Sevika leaned in the doorway, her presence as steady as a shadow.
“You’re making her shy, Melly,” she teased, her voice like gravel underfoot.
Mel glanced at her, rolling her eyes, but you caught the faintest smile tugging at her lips. As a final touch she added a large bow clip to your tamed strands; it was lilac and worn at the ends.
When you were cleaned up, you reached for your purse, pulling out a crumpled bill.
“Here. Let me—,” you began, holding it out.
Mel’s expression shifted, her smile fading into something more serious as she cut you off. She pushed your hand back gently.
“Honey, you don’t owe me anything.”
The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and you tucked the money away, unsure of what to say.
Sevika cleared her throat. “Where are we headed, anyway?”
“Tampa,” you said.
She raised a brow, her smirk returning.
“Figures. You seem like a Tampa girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
Sevika just shrugged, her mouth twitching.
“Guess we’ll find out.”
The three of you stepped into the early morning light, the ocean-heavy breeze brushing against your skin. You didn’t even know you could live this close to the ocean in Miami.
You turned back and caught Sevika and Mel in silent conversation. There was something unspoken between them, between you, something you couldn’t quite name. For now, though, you let it rest.
Grandma’s sick, you reminded yourself. You had to keep going.
The rest of the day swelled with humidity, the horizon bruised with the threat of rain. The Cadillac’s engine purred low, its growl humming beneath the croon of soft rock spilling through the speakers.
You kept your eyes on the window, the world outside blurring as heat shimmered off the asphalt and smeared the palms into a haze.
Sevika hadn’t said much since you got in her car. She didn’t need to.
There was a quiet kind of ease in her presence, a stillness that somehow made the grief gnawing at your chest feel less unbearable. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame, her fingers idly toying with a cigarette she hadn’t yet lit.
The smell of the car had settled around you—leather, faint smoke, and something warm you couldn’t name. It was the kind of smell that made you think of safety, though you didn’t know why.
Your phone buzzed in your lap, the screen lighting up with a message from your mother.
Sorry, baby doll. Grandma’s on the brink.
You read the words twice, three times, and still they didn’t make sense. Your fingers tightened around the phone, your nails pressing into its glittery gold case, and something sharp and hot clawed its way up your throat.
Sevika glanced over, her brow furrowing.
“You good?”
You nodded quickly, your lips pressing together to hold back the tears that were already welling. But it was no use. They spilled over, fat and hot, streaking black mascara down your apple-round cheeks.
You turned your head, pretending to watch the passing trees, but your reflection in the window gave you away.
“Shit,” Sevika muttered, low and rough. She took one last drag from her cigarette, then flicked it out the window. “Hold on.”
She pulled off the highway, her movements smooth and deliberate, and guided the car into the gravel lot of a diner. Its neon sign flickered faintly against the gray sky, Chuck’s written in soft pink cursive. The building was small and sweet, painted robin’s egg blue with white shutters and lace curtains framing its windows.
Sevika parked and cut the engine, turning to look at you.
“Come here.”
Her voice was softer now, but it still carried that unshakable steadiness. You hesitated, your hands trembling in your lap, but the look on her face left no room for doubt. You leaned toward her, and her arms came around you, solid and warm, pulling you into her chest.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, her hand smoothing over your hair. “Come on, angel. Just let it out.”
And you did. The sobs came in waves, ripping through you until you were shaking, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline. She didn’t flinch, didn’t tell you to stop. She just held you, her hand a steady weight against the back of your head, her thumb brushing small, grounding circles into your shoulder.
You couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you like this.
When you finally pulled back, your face was hot, damp, and streaked; your mascara smudged into shadows beneath your eyes. Sevika reached out, her thumb catching the tracks on your cheeks.
“Messy,” she said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
The diner’s door chimed as you stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and bread washing over you. The interior was impossibly charming, with its pastel booths, checkerboard floors, and the low hum of a jukebox in the corner. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl cool against the back of your legs.
Sevika sat across from you, her body filling the small space like a storm cloud, heavy and unshakable. You stared out the window, watching the rain slip down the glass in delicate rivulets. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled, low and faint.
“You’re strong, you know that?” Sevika’s voice broke through the quiet.
You turned to her, startled. Her eyes were dark, but they were the softest you’d seen them so far, almost tender.
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing your chin. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt through you, her thumb catching against your skin.
“It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice low and certain. “You’ll be fine. You have to be.”
Outside, the rain fell harder, the sound of it filling the silence between you. And then Sevika let go, her hand retreating back across the table.
The rain continued to blur the diner’s windows, the soft pink neon outside flickering faintly against the new gloom. You stared down at your coffee, the chipped porcelain mug warm in your hands, but it wasn’t enough to steady the tremor that had worked its way into your fingers. The realities of the world felt too sharp, too close, like you might unravel right there in your plain sight.
“Talk to me,” you said suddenly, your voice thin and unsteady. “I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.”
Sevika’s eyes lifted from her coffee, dark and knowing. Her expression didn’t shift, but something gave in the set of her jaw. She leaned back, one arm slung over the booth’s edge, her other hand absently brushing the lip of her mug.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze flicking out to the rain before returning to her. “Tell me why you drive a beat-up Cadillac.”
That pulled a small, low chuckle from her, quiet but rich. She tipped her head, the motion slow and deliberate, and for a moment, you felt less like you were shuddering into beautiful pieces.
“You think she’s beat-up?” Sevika asked, her lips curving faintly.
“She’s held together by rust and prayer,” you said, almost smiling. “I’m just saying.”
Sevika’s laugh came fuller this time, a sound that filled the air without disrupting the other patrons.
“Hey. She’s got character. My dad gave her to me when I was nineteen. She used to be pristine—white leather, a real beauty. But time does what it does.”
You blinked, caught on the number.
“Nineteen?” you asked, hesitant. “How long ago was that?”
Her smirk grew, slow and sharp. “Longer than you’d guess, angel.”
Your brows furrowed, curiosity blooming against the weight in your chest. “How old are you?”
Sevika’s gaze lingered, the kind of look that made you feel seen in a way that was both unnerving and magnetic.
“Old enough to remember when you had to rewind your mixtapes with a pencil,” she said, her voice dry, teasing.
You couldn’t help it—a small laugh slipped out, barely there, but it felt good.
“I’ve always had a thing for older women,” you said absently, the words slipping out before you realized what you’d said.
Her smirk deepened, her eyes sharpening in a way that made your stomach flip.
“That so?” she murmured, her voice low and rich, a swatch of velvet dragged through smoke. “You looking for a mommy, angel?”
Heat flooded your face, vicious and unbearable, and you pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor.
“I’m, um—gonna order something at the counter,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze.
She chuckled, soft and lazy, her voice following you as you turned toward the counter.
“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.”
The diner felt warmer, brighter, as you made your way to the counter, the fluorescents buzzing faintly above. You kept your eyes on the menu board, your pulse still thrumming in your ears.
It’s four more hours to Tampa, but it’s the most excruciating period of your life.
You’d left the diner a little steadier, Sevika’s arm brushing yours as you climbed back into her car. The Cadillac rattled like death, its leather seats sticky against your thighs.
You leaned your temple against the window, watching as the flat Florida landscape blurred into soft greens and yellows. The air outside was still thick with heat, even with the sun reducing its intensity as it slunk away.
The highway stretched out like an open wound, raw and endless. You fiddled with the radio dial until a bouncy indie pop song filtered back through the speakers, filling the air with a thousand wailing guitars. Sevika didn’t complain, her focus locked on the road ahead.
At some point, she pulled off into a gravel lot in front of a boutique. The building was small and unassuming, its pink paint faded by time. A hand-painted sign swung lazily in the humid breeze.
“We’re stopping?” you asked, your voice hoarse from exhaustion.
“You need other clothes,” Sevika said simply, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”
The shop smelled faintly of coconut wax and dust, its racks crammed with mismatched pieces that managed to appear more curated than random. Sevika leaned against a rack of jeans, her arms crossed, as you wandered through the aisles.
“We’re strangers,” you said eventually, holding up a knit top to your chest. “Why are you taking care of me?”
Sevika didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening in thought.
“I remember being twenty-one,” she said finally. “The world was a lot to handle back then. Some days, it still is.”
You lowered the top and gazed at her, mouth dipping in understanding. She was so beautiful here, despite being far from at home in this confectionery store. Her arms flexed gently as she shifted in place, and you resisted the urge to press her hair out of her face.
“I’m sorry that you know what that feels like.”
“You don’t have to pity me,” she said, the response clearly a reflex.
You smiled crookedly and didn’t press further.
The outfit you picked—a striped knit and high-waisted jeans—felt soft against your skin. The knit hugged your curves, the soft plum-colored neckline slipping just low enough to expose the plush swell of your shoulder. When you stepped out of the dressing room, Sevika gave you a once-over, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“You’re a girl with expensive taste,” she teased. “Is that cashmere?”
“It’s my stage name for a reason,” you shot back, smiling softly. “And everything is overpriced here.”
“You look like a doll,” she said, her tone amused.
You rolled your eyes, brushing past her to the counter.
“I’ve got to look a little more appropriate.”
“For what?” she teased. “Tampa doesn’t care.”
“Well , my Aunt Kenna will.”
Unsurprisingly, you found yourself overpowered by Sevika at the register. She pressed her card down, its body sleek and black with silver lettering. Once again, you were struck by the kindness of strangers and you felt your throat tighten.
She gave you a look, as if to quiet your self-effacing urges. Behind the counter, the clerk smiled to herself as she observed the two of you. She was petite and had a pinched face, her hair short and a creamy blonde. Maddie, her tag read. She reminded you a lot of your mother, possessing the same shifty energy of a runner as she racked up your total.
The drive resumed, and with it, you revealed more of yourself to Sevika. You told her about your grandma, about the way she used to braid your hair with fake frangipani from the craft store and sing to you in the evenings where your mother would be gone. How her hands were always soft, even when they were tired. How you used to tuck yourself under the desk at the hospital where she worked when your heart was crumbled by women you definitely shouldn’t have been involved with at eighteen.
You spoke of your aunt, the way she fought to keep the family together, even when it wasn’t hers to save. You spoke of your little sister who in a way was also your child, how you did most things in life for her sake.
Sevika listened in silence, her hand resting on the wheel, her gaze never straying from the road. There was something in her stillness that made you feel seen, even when the words caught in your throat.
When you finally crossed into Tampa, the sky was dyed indigo and gold, the houses lining the street glowing faintly in the dusk.
You rolled the window down and leaned out, your phone poised to capture the image forever on your cracked back camera. You were such a tall child.
The warm air stroked against the moon of your face, tugged at the ends of your hair and dried your lips. You felt Sevika’s hand slide to your thigh, just below the crease of your ass, heavy and grounding, and you froze. Her palm was rough against the soft give of your flesh, her fingers splayed just enough to keep you steady.
“Don’t fall out,” she muttered, her voice tinged with quiet amusement.
“I won’t,” you said, but you sat back soon after, your heart beating a little too fast.
Sevika’s hand lingered a second longer before retreating to the wheel.
The butter-yellow house came into view, its shutters glowing faintly in the twilight. Your breath hitched. It looked the same as it always had, though the paint was more weathered, the steps chipped at the edges.
Sevika pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The silence was deafening. You fumbled with your purse, fingers trembling, but before you could open the door, Sevika’s hand found your chin. She turned your face toward hers, her thumb brushing just beneath your jaw.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Always is.”
Her eyes held you in place, dark and unflinching.
You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you believed her. Before you could think too much of it, you leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. Over her scar.
“Thank you.”
Her mouth parted, but the screen door creaked open, and you saw your aunt step onto the porch, her arms crossed and one brow raised in quiet judgment. You hesitated, glancing back at Sevika.
“You could come in,” you offered, the words heavier than they should have been.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking to your aunt before landing back on you. She pushed off the seat and got out to follow you, her presence like a shadow at your back.
The porch light hummed faintly as you step inside, and a creamy warmth filled your chest. Your sister cheered when she saw you, and you laughed—your eyesight blurring. For the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe.
As always, you dived in headfirst and sought out your grandmother’s room.
It was a terrible mistake. You couldn’t handle seeing her like that.
Almost immediately, bile surged up your throat, sharp and acidic, and you bolted—pausing just long enough to set the medicine down on her nightstand with quaking hands. You burst outside, where the air was sweltering with salt and the sudden impact of your new reality.
You weren’t good with death, not in any of its forms.
When your daddy died, something inside you cracked clean in half, the break jagged and irreparable. You’d felt a piece of yourself slip down into his grave, like a loose flower. Since then, you’d clung to the hope that love—your love—could somehow keep the people you cared about alive. At least until you felt ready for the loss.
Your chest ached in a way that felt both too familiar and entirely new, like grief had leveled your ribs to construct a home in your body. You rubbed at it absently, trying to dull the pressure blooming there, blinking hard against the rising tide of tears.
She was going to die. You knew this. It settled into your stomach like lead, poisoning you.
Behind you, the woods creaked, the trees’ chorus soft and low, like they were joining you in mourning. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Hey, angel,” Sevika said, her voice low and warm, the kind of soft you wouldn’t have expected from her. It caught you off guard every time. “You alright?”
“I’m not going back in there,” you said quickly, your voice brittle and thin.
“You don’t have to.” There was a pause, long enough to make your chest tighten. Then, quieter, “Can you look at me?”
You hesitated, staring down at your hands, at the chipping polish on your grown out tips and the way your fingers trembled. You could feel her waiting, patient and steady, like she’d stand there all night if you needed her to. Finally, you turned, slow and reluctant, until your eyes met hers.
Sevika stood at the edge of the porch, broad shoulders framed by the faded light. Her face was unreadable, but not unkind.
“Come here,” she said, barely above a whisper.
You didn’t think. You moved, inching forward on unsteady legs and stepping into her orbit. Her hands came up instinctively, one curling around your elbow, the other hovering just above your waist, as if she wasn’t sure where to touch you.
“I can’t go back in there,” you repeated, your voice cracking.
“[Name]—,”
“She’s dying.”
“But you knew that. You can’t leave her when she needs you the most.
“I’m tired of people fucking needing me.” You crossed your arms over your torso, holding yourself. “They all just leave anyway.”
“When you love people, that’s the process. That’s life’s price.
The words hit you like a perfect blow, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying—big, fat tears that streaked your cheeks with warmth and made your mascara run. You tried to turn away, but her hand found your chin, tilting your face back toward hers.
“Hey,” she murmured, her thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s unfair, I know. Trust me, I know. Let it out.”
And you did. You let the sobs take you, let them rip through you wave after wave, until you were clinging to her shirt, the fabric balled tightly in your fists. She held you through it, solid and unfaltering, her hand steady against your back.
When the tears finally subsided, you felt drained, like you’d been wrung out and left to dry. But her arms stayed around you.
Sevika managed to coax you inside, shivering and bleating like a lamb, but the house was newly unbearable.
Every room smelled like antiseptic and something sweetly rotting beneath the surface, a scent that clung to your hair and the back of your throat. The walls felt too bright, too alive for what was happening inside them.
It was like the house was mocking you. Every sound—your grandmother’s labored breathing, the clock ticking too loudly in the kitchen, your little sister’s restless movements on the couch—seemed to close in on you.
You couldn’t stay. Not in that room, not in that house. Maybe you took after your mother more than you liked to admit.
Your sister looked so small on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and her face blank as she stared at the flickering TV. She was holding onto the hem of her dress like it might unravel if she let go and the man on the screen promised to get her a spot in heaven, under God’s thumb. Bullshit.
When you spoke, your voice was soft, barely audible over the droning hum of the television.
“Get your shoes on, bug,” you said. “We’re going to the beach.”
Her head snapped up, her wide eyes searching yours for a moment before she nodded and slid off the couch.
You were almost out the door when your aunt caught you, her voice sharp but quiet.
“You better know what you’re doing with that woman.”
Kenna’s words stopped you cold, the strap of your bag digging into your shoulder as you turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face shadowed by the dim porch light.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with her,” you admitted, your voice low. “But I know I trust her.”
Your aunt studied you for a long moment, her gaze heavy and cutting. Finally, she stepped aside, her expression softening just enough to let you know she wasn’t angry, just worried.
“I know what infatuation looks like. I know what love looks like too, even when it’s still on its way. It’s coming, baby. Just—,”she sighed, breaking off.
“Just be careful,” she finished.
You hugged her tight, sagging as she slid a hand over her hair before letting you go.
Sevika was waiting in the car, her arm draped over the steering wheel, her face unreadable in the twilight. Your sister climbed into the backseat, curling up immediately with her Lisa Frank coloring book, and you slid into the passenger seat without a word.
The drive was quiet, the low hum of the city filling the space between you. Sevika didn’t push, didn’t ask what had happened inside. She just drove, and you were so grateful you could’ve kissed her.
The beach was nearly empty when you arrived, the sun beyond gone now. You spread a blanket out on the cool gray sand, letting your sister run down to the water. Her laughter echoed faintly, carried by the breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.
You pulled off your woven cover-up, revealing the soft orange bikini you’d slipped on. The well-loved fabric clung to you, accentuating the plush curves of your body in a way that made you stall for only a moment. But then Sevika looked at you, and the way her gaze dragged over you made all air flee your throat.
She swallowed hard, her jaw working as she tore her eyes away and stared out at the water instead.
“You look nice,” she said, her voice gruff.
You snorted, sitting down on the blanket.
“Nice?”
“Very nice,” she amended, but the rasp in her voice gave her away.
“You do too,” you told her and you meant it.
She was gorgeous in her black cropped tee and little black cargoes. This was “as beachy as she was willing to get”. You didn’t give a damn. You wanted to eat her alive.
The sky deepened into a hazy indigo, the stars faint and scattered. Your sister danced along the shoreline, her feet splashing in the shallow waves. You watched her, your chest aching with something you couldn’t name.
“I wish this was my entire life,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Sevika.
She turned to you, her brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“This,” you said, gesturing to your sister. “Taking care of her. Taking care of my daughter with my wife. No illness, no bills piling up, no—” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard. “No worries. Just a quiet life.”
Sevika didn’t respond right away. When you finally looked at her, her face was so soft in a way you knew was probably a rarity. Her prosthetic raised in an aborted motion, as if she’d thought to touch your face.
“I could take care of you, baby,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her lips like a promise.
Your breath caught, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
“Come back with me, [Name],” she said, her voice low and steady. “Stay with me and Melly. Bring [Sister’s Name]. You don’t have to do it alone all the time.”
The fantasy of her words pressed against your chest, warm and overwhelming. For a moment, you let yourself imagine it: her, Melly, your sister, a life where the world's heaviness couldn’t crush you.
Your sister called out from the water, waving a piece of driftwood she’d found, and the moment broke. Sevika’s hand brushed yours, solid and grounding, and when you turned back to her, her eyes were still on you, waiting.
The tide lapped at the shore, the sound mingling with your sister’s laughter, and you felt a rising pulse in your mouth, on your tongue.
“They do fireworks at the docks. You have to pay, but we sneak in all the time. You wanna see?”
“Sure,” Sevika said.
The answer came so easily and you knew she’d give you everything. Maybe even love you forever. The thought made you tingle and you dug your toes into the sand.
“Let’s go,” you said, your pinky twisting around hers.
You both knew you weren’t talking about the fireworks.
With a wry smile she rose and set about taking you home again.
Your sister—forever your baby—was curled fast asleep in the back seat of Sevika’s car by the time you pulled out of the lot, her face slack with the kind of peace only children seemed capable of. Her soft snores filled the space between you as Sevika drove back to your grandmother’s house, the streets quiet and warm, lit faintly by streetlights. The evening air hung heavy, sticking to your skin like a second layer.
You glanced at Sevika as she drove, her profile lit in flashes by the passing lights. Her grip on the wheel was loose, but her fingers drummed absently against the leather, her thoughts somewhere else. Maybe with you.
You wondered if she was nervous. You wondered if she knew how much you were.
“She’s out like a light,” Sevika murmured, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Guess it’s just us.”
You swallowed, your fingers playing with the hem of your cover-up, and nodded. “Just us.”
Your aunt was waiting on the porch when you arrived. She was perched on the railing, her vape glowing faintly in the dark. You knew the scent without looking: cucumber, apple, and sour cherry.
Her sharp gaze moved between the two of you as Sevika carried your sister inside, her long stride easy and steady despite the weight of the little girl in her arms.
“Enjoyed your family outing?” Aunt Kenna asked, teasing but pointed, as you lingered by the door.
You blinked at her, startled, heat rising in your cheeks. “It wasn’t like that.”
She snorted, taking a long drag. “Sure it wasn’t .”
The docks were quieter than you expected when you arrived. Most of the families had settled in their little corners, kids running barefoot across the wooden planks, their laughter echoing into the open sky. The air smelled of pear, peach blossoms, and distant charcoal grills, a mix of sugar and fire that felt like the very essence of where you’d been born and raised. 
Sevika parked far enough away to avoid the crowd but close enough for you to see the shimmering reflections of the boats swaying in the dark water. She leaned back against the hood of her car, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and watched as you wandered closer to the edge, the creamy orange of your tiny bikini glowing faintly in the dim light.
You should’ve been illegal.
“Careful, angel,” she called, her voice warm, fond. “You fall in, I’m not jumping after you.”
You turned, smirking, the breeze tugging at the bow sitting pretty in the middle of your full breasts. 
“I can swim.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to fish you out,” she said, but her smile gave her away. She was watching you so intently, her gaze loaded, as if committing you to memory.
You walked back toward her, your arms wrapped around yourself, and stopped just a foot away. The tension between you was almost tangible now, electric. You could feel it humming in the air, in the way her eyes lingered on the curve of your wide hips, the dip of your collarbone. It made your breath hitch.
“I’ve always loved the docks,” you said softly. “They feel… timeless. Like you could stand here forever and nothing would change.”
Sevika hummed, tilting her head to look up at you. “You think that’s a good thing?”
You shrugged, your lips curving faintly. 
“Sometimes.”
The first firework burst above you then, a bloom of pink and gold that lit up the sky and reflected off the water. A shock of red followed shortly after. You both looked up, the moment suspended, the sound of the explosion echoing in your chest.
You glanced at Sevika, her face bathed in the soft glow of the fireworks, and felt something shift inside you. Something undeniable.
The show continued, and you moved to lean against the hood of her car. The metal was warm and your stomach was buzzing at the nearness of Sevika’s broad body.
By the time the fireworks were halfway through, you couldn’t focus on them anymore. The loud bursts of color seemed secondary to the way Sevika was lounging next to you, her broad shoulders relaxed, her eyes soaking in the way goosebumps bubbled along your arms. It felt like she was daring you to do something, to cross the line you’d been dancing around since she’d swept you off the highway.
You moved closer, your bare feet brushing against hers, and she straightened slightly, her head listing to the side as she watched you.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice low.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. 
“I’m thinking…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the sides of your bikini bottom. “I’m thinking this feels… nice.”
Her lips quirked, just slightly, but her gaze was serious. “Nice?”
“So good,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel… safe with you. Things are perfect like this, and—and I’m probably never gonna feel this way again.”
The words hung between you, honest and raw, and you could see the way they landed on her, the way her expression softened, her guard slipping for just a moment.
“I’d never hurt you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “You know that, right?”
You nodded, stepping even closer until you were standing between her legs, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. “I know.”
You didn’t, really. She could be selling you a paper thin dream. But your hope had always been the largest part of you. It spurred the flame you felt for her, your aching burning desire to be with her all the time. To ride by her side without question. 
Her hand came up then, hesitating for just a second before settling on your waist. The touch was light, almost cautious, but it sent an electric current straight through you.
“Sevika,” you whispered, your voice stumbling.
She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your cheek. 
“Yeah?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you, your lips brushing against hers in a kiss that felt just right, like the tide meeting the shore. Your body lit up, and you collapsed into her—trusting and free. 
She stilled for a moment, as if surprised, but then her hand tightened on your waist and she kissed you back, slow and deliberate.
The world seemed to fade then, the fireworks a distant, glittering symphony in the black sky. All you could feel was her—her warmth, her strength, the way she seemed determined to hold you together even as you felt like you might fall apart.
When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in weak gasps, lightheaded and aching to faint, she rested her forehead against yours, searching your dilated eyes.
Your lip gloss was smeared across Sevika’s jaw, leaving a streak of shimmering peach and rose that caught in the fleeting light of the evening. It clung to her skin, soft and vivid As she moved, the stain glistened faintly, the contrast against her sharp, weathered features sending a slow, aching thrill down your spine. 
It was yours, this faint, glittering mark, lingering in the space where your mouth had been. She made no effort to remove it.
“Angel,” she murmured, her voice rough. “You sure about this?”
You nodded, your hands clutching at her shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she pressed another searing kiss to your lips. 
“Come on,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Let’s get in the car.”
Your palm slapped hard against the roof, your teeth almost tearing through your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a loud moan. 
Beneath you, Sevika gripped the copious flesh of your ass as she sucked at your clit. 
“Oh, shit, Sevika. Fuck.”
In the beginning you were so careful, worried about blocking her airway. With a hard slap to your ass she pulled you down, relentless in taking all of you. 
“Hnnnnnh,” you whimpered. “Sevi, fuuuuuck.”
Sevika hummed in satisfaction at that. As she watched your face she grazed your clit with her teeth, relishing in how you arched. 
You were so warm and supple between her fingers, your pussy slobbering over her nose and mouth. You tasted so good, so musky and honeyed. She never wanted to let you go. 
Slowly, she slide you down and pressed you down to her chest as she undid your bikini top so that your tits spilled eagerly against her own. She then tenderly tucked two fingers inside of you, cooing as you whined at the stretch. 
She began to bounce you by the fabric of your bottoms, forcing you to ride her fingers until they were covered in the thin film of your wetness. You moaned at her strength, at how easily she’d decided how you’d take her. 
“Good fucking girl. So sweet, aren’t you, baby? Hmm?”
“Sevi, please. Just—just a little faster.”
She grinned meanly, inserting a third finger and curling them—raking cruelly against your g-spot. You sank further into her, swiveling your hips if only to get her deeper. To take her harder. Your pussy was weeping, emptying itself onto her hand.
“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re leaking all over me. ‘M never gonna get this out of these seats.”
“Good,” you breathed out, smiling impishly.
Sevika’s eyes darkened and she suddenly rearranged you till you were on your back against the leather seats, your legs wholly spread. she lowered between them, licking a long stripe up to your clit experimentally. 
She had you soft and loose. You didn’t realize just how spacious this car was.
You moaned, high and loud, snapping into an arch until you were forced to come back down, Sevika’s arm holding your hips firmly. Your eyes were closed now, and your eyelids were no longer just black, explosions of color staining them, ripping through you.
Sevika lapped at you, taking her time but still intentional with the way she touched you. She used a hand to spread you apart burying her face into her pussy, her nose becoming wet again with your rabid need. She became messy, moving her head back and forth, slurping at you until you were almost shaking, on the edge of something greater.
Settling back just slightly, she spat harshly into your cunt and rubbed it into your clit, pressing down until it was close to painful. You couldn’t breathe correctly. You couldn’t even remember your name.
"Sevi. Sevi. Mommy, oh my fucking God.“
Sevika said nothing, just caught a lip of your cunt between her teeth, biting down as she slid her fingers back in.
"Unh," is what you had to add to the nonexistent conversation and Sevika grinned against you.
She spread her fingers and then curled them, dragging your hips into her lap as she sat up. You couldn’t feel your fucking legs.
"Yes. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. It feels so fucking good."
Sevika was driven and vicious, determined to eat away at the woman beneath her. You curved your back as your orgasm approached, determined to feel it all the way up in the cavern of your mouth. You needed this.
Sevika leaned over you, tilting your head down so that you were looking at one another.
"I want you to keep looking at me as you cum."
You made a faint noise of agreement and clutched at Sevika’s arms. She took your hands and placed them underneath your knees, so that you could hold yourself open. It spread you apart until she was able to view how pink and puffy you were. 
“I can’t wait to get you in bed, honey. ‘M gonna bend you over, open that tight little cunt with my cock, and watch you swallow me.”
“Oh.” You let a little groan of satisfaction as she thumbed at your clit. 
Sevika pressed your foreheads together and thumbed at your mouth. You felt both here and there, brain blanking. 
“Ohh,” she mocked you with a slight smile. “You’re so fucking cute.”
You cast your head back as Sevika returned her mouth to your pussy, suckling at it in combination with her fingers carving a space deep inside of you.
"Come on, angel," she urged. "Be good for me."
You were trying, goddamnit.
"Gonna take a photo of this creamy cunt. Show Melly, tell her that I did this. That you let me."
You let out a high whine, and she nodded in faux sympathy.
“Mmm? Is that what you want to do? Want me to take you to that shitty club and spread you open on stage? Stake my claim?”
A fourth finger now. Her voice dropped as if telling you a secret.
“Maybe I’ll slide some cold, hard cash into this slutty cunt, stretch that slit.” Faster now. Your toes curled. “ Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy just wants to slut you out.”
She pressed a delicate kiss to your cunt and you were unsure if what came next was just the slam of your hand against the door echoing or another firework going off. 
All you knew was that the world around you was roaring, that she refused to stop. All you knew was her digging into you. 
You imploded.
The drive back was quiet, the tension between you still palpable but softer now, sated and sleepy. Sevika reached over once, her fingers brushing against your cheek and you shifted, pressing the petals of your lips into the center of her palm without hesitation.
When you finally pulled into your grandmother’s driveway, the house bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, you turned to her, your heart full to bursting.
“Stay,” you said, your emotions splayed wide open. “Just for a little while.”
She looked at you for a long moment, and then she nodded. “Okay.”
You both knew it wasn’t just for a little while.
❀ 
The house smelled like hibiscus and coffee when you walked in, the faint scent of six-dollar soy candles lingering in the corners. Your aunt was at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water, her curls pinned back with a clip. She turned when she heard the door creak open, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Sevika trailing behind you, broad-shouldered and quiet.  
“You brought her back?” she asked, not in a disparaging manner, though her tone carried the weight of an older woman who’d seen it all.
“[Sister’s Name] forgot something in her car,” you lied easily, gesturing toward said alibi, who was peeking into the kitchen while rubbing a fist over her eye, her drowsy greeting muffled as she dragged her blanket behind her.  
Your aunt didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue either. Instead, she flicked her chin toward the counter. 
“If she’s staying, she may as well help.”  
Sevika looked at you, one brow arched slightly in amusement. You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the idea of her folding herself into your life—even for something as mundane as this—made your stomach swoop. 
The kitchen was broiling, almost unbearably so, with the old oven humming faintly and the humidity from the day still clinging to the walls. Sevika rolled up her sleeves, revealing the curve of her forearms, the prosthetic gleaming faintly in the soft overhead light. 
You tried not to stare, but your eyes kept drifting—over the way her hands moved as she dried the dishes your aunt handed her, the faint flex of muscle under her skin.  
“You ever wash a dish before?” your aunt asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.  
“Plenty,” Sevika admitted, her voice low and even. “Did a couple restaurant stints when I first came to this place. I was hoping to never do that shit again.”  
You bit back a smile, ducking your head as you reached for a towel to dry the counter. The space felt smaller with her in it, her silhouette filling every corner, her quick movements electric.  
Your aunt glanced between the two of you, her gaze lingering on Sevika before she handed her another plate. 
“You’re a hard worker. Good. She needs someone who can keep up.”  
Sevika’s lips quirked, but she didn’t respond, her attention focused on the task in front of her.  
The radio crackled faintly from the corner, playing some old Cuban bolero your aunt loved, and you found yourself swaying slightly as you worked, the rhythm infectious. You caught Sevika watching you out of the corner of her eye, her gaze soft but intent, and your cheeks warmed.  
“You dance to this too?” she asked, her voice pitched low enough that your aunt didn’t catch it.  
“Sometimes,” you said, keeping your focus on the counter. “Not for free, though.”  
She chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “Figures.”  
Your aunt, oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension that weaved itself between you, turned to Sevika with a clean dish in hand. 
“Rinse this for me, would you? And don’t let her distract you—she’s been trouble since she could fucking walk.”  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sevika said, glancing at you with a spark of amusement in her eyes.  
The night wore on, the kitchen growing quieter as your aunt finally finished and stepped out to check on your sister. You stayed behind, leaning against the counter as Sevika dried her hands on a threadbare patch of towel. 
“I can’t believe you were hustling in restaurants,” you said, nodding toward the sink.  
She smirked, tossing the towel onto the counter. 
“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be a delight.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
 “Thanks for helping.”  
“Anytime,” she said, her voice softening slightly.  
You watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders seemed less tense now, the way her hair caught the light. The memory of her hands on you earlier still lingered, watering over your skin. It was a secret only the two of you shared.  
“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she stepped closer.  
You nodded, though your chest felt tight, your pulse thrumming in your ears. 
“Yeah. Just a little tired.”  
Her hand brushed yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. She noticed, her gaze dropping to where your fingers nearly touched before she pulled back, her jaw tightening.  
“We should get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now.
“Yeah,” you murmured, though you didn’t move.  
For a moment, neither of you did, the hum of the radio the only sound in the room. Then she stepped back, giving you space you didn’t want, and you let her.  
Your bedroom felt much like the inside of a shell—quiet and strange, the air soaked with a mixture of rose, magnolia, and something darker, something that sat low in your chest. You could still taste the golden slices of your childhood, still feel the ache in your ribs that came from building elaborate forts. 
But now there was Sevika, solid and steady beneath you.
As soon as the door had closed, she’d taken you apart slowly, carefully, as though she’d known you needed it to feel stable again. 
The rough pads of her fingers, the soft murmur of her voice, the way she called you princess like it was the only name you’d ever had. And you had suffered in silence, hand across your mouth as you clenched and shook around her head for the third time, then the fourth. 
You’d finally tired after a good ride on her thigh, holding on desperately to the nape of neck. Her baby hair was soft there, tender. She came when you kissed her nose, slid down to her mouth, and called her beautiful. She’d whimpered, bucked awkwardly around your fingers, and you held her to you as you whispered her name. 
You’d looked it up in the bathroom. Sevika. Of Indian and Sanskrit origin. Servant of God. 
Now, she lay between your legs, her head resting heavy and warm against your stomach. The weight of her felt magical, made your body feel more virginal than it ever had been, and you sighed lowly as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting pale gold stripes across her back. 
The swan wings stretched with her every move, the feathers catching flight as she breathed. Muted ivory and soft grays leaned tenderly into the faintest hints of lavender and navy blue, the delicate gradient of ink glowing against her deep, bronze skin.
You reached out, tracing the curve of a wing’s tip near her shoulder blade. The ink felt warm under your fingertips, her skin soft but unyielding. The swan’s head, nestled at the base of her neck where the wings met, was elegant and sharp, its eyes bright as if they could see into you. You followed the line of its neck with your thumb, your touch lingering at the place where her spine dipped, and she hummed low in her throat, a sound that vibrated through your body.
She tilted her head, her cheek brushing against the softness of your belly as her eyes opened slowly, sleep still heavy in her gaze. 
“You like it?” she murmured, voice rough and low.
“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re beautiful.”
You had already said this, and the reminder made you blush in embarrassment. A slow, lopsided smile tugged at her lips, and she closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into you as if she belonged there. You felt her hand slide up to rest on your thigh, her fingers splayed against your skin, holding you in place like she was afraid you’d disappear into the rising morning.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you flinched at the sound, the world outside pressing back in. Sevika didn’t move, just let her hand trail lazily up your spine as you reached for it. The screen glowed with messages from your aunt:  
aunt kenna 𓆉: Couldn’t get anyone to cover the rest of my shifts this week. aunt kenna 𓆉: Mom’s still kicking. She’s getting stronger. aunt kenna 𓆉: Ty for coming home. See you soon. Love you, bug x 
Still alive, you thought. The words lit up something inside you, bright and raw and impossible to contain. You laughed, the sound catching on the edge of a sob, and dropped the phone onto the bed.
“What is it?” Sevika asked, her voice filling with concern.
You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. The words tangled in your throat. Instead, you turned to her, your fingers trembling as they found her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her full mouth. 
“She’s still alive,” you whispered, the words spilling out like a prayer.
Her eyes softened, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. 
“Yeah,” she said, her voice steady, certain. “She’s a strong woman, just like the rest of you.”
The relief hit you all at once, sharp and overwhelming, and you kissed her because you couldn’t think of anything else to do. It was messy and desperate, your hands fisting in her hair as you tried to pour every unspoken thing into her mouth. She let you, her body surrendering to its basest urges . 
“Still alive,” you repeated, this time against her lips, your forehead resting against hers as your tears slipped silently onto her skin. 
“Mmhmm,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, her hands steady on your hips. “You’re all gonna live forever.”
You kissed her again, because you needed to. You needed her. 
You believed her. 
And the truth was you didn’t know how good it would get for the two (five) of you. 
You’d look back, let go, lose this part of things. Take your baby sister and leave.
You’d still be you, but you'd be free.
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taglist: @miles-42-morales @indigopearl96 @marvelwomenarehot0 @vintagelotus345 @queen-simone @uronlymiaa @namuranguinhos @femlesbianbarbie @femme-historian @vikaswife @powderpinkandsweeet @drgnflyteabox @icespiceluva @theirlaliengirl @supermanwifey @nkeyaaa @batmanslittlelover @strawberrykidneystone @shimmerstraps
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© hcneymooners
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nanivinsmoke · 3 months ago
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✿ anytime, anyplace.
18+ minors dni backshots. exhibitionism. creampie
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logan was so horny and needy almost all the time. he was like an animal, needing to breed and hunch on you at all times.
that includes missions as well.
he loved fucking you during a mission. the thrill of being caught excited him. he always made sure the two of you were on a mission together, and if you weren’t; he still found a way to at least have your pretty pussy on his face.
it was dangerous, yes, but you were with a man who could literally SMELL danger; so you weren’t too worried. but, the mere thought of being in danger when he’s so deep inside of you was exhilarating. your cunt would gush at the thought.
you and logan would fuck like newlyweds everywhere, even though the two of you had been together for more than a year.
you two were currently on a mission by yourselves, when he found a good opportunity to press you against the wall and split your cunt open. you were sopping wet and a moaning mess, while he made a mess out of you. logan watched as your ass jiggled with each hard thrust he had gave you, loving how you looked and sounded.
“baby its’ too much—I can’t take it!” you managed to blurt out, drooling on the painting that you were pressed against. poor vincent van gogh.
he chuckled and leaned against your arched back, pushing himself deeper inside of you. “look how you’re taking me now, doll. such a good girl, taking me so well~”
his praise had your knees buckling and your cunt drooling with slick, you were so unbelievably close and it wouldn’t be long before you’d come crashing down on his dick.
“logan im gonna—wait baby….i hear—fuck—something.” you warned, trying to get his attention but he wouldn’t let up; still making your pussy a gushing mess.
he was close too. he needed to cum inside you, he had to. he wanted you to be so fucking full of his cum, it would start to pour out of your ears. he pushed your head into the painting, drilling your cunt open—making your pretty little eyes roll in the back of your head. you opened your mouth to warn him again, but all that came out what his name and a series of ‘pleases’.
your walls clung to him once more before they clenched and unclenched around him—cumming all over his girth. and out of the corner of his eye, while he was fucking the orgasm out of you, he could see what you were talking about earlier.
snikt!
his claws unsheathed and sheathed again in an instant, dropping the head of your enemy to the floor. but, you kept your eyes closed. he had it handled and you were too occupied with the new feeling taking over your body—with him painting your walls a pretty pearly shade of white.
his cock was lodged deep inside of you and his thumb was pressed against your other hole, adding more stimulation to your overstimulated body; before he pulled out, his cum slowly drooping out of you.
he quickly pulled your slick coated panties up and helped you zip up your black latex xmen suit, before fixing himself. logan reached over and grabbed the medallion around the severed head, before grabbing your small hand.
“I’ll drive. you just keep those pretty legs up and keep that cum from slipping down them~”
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mcondance · 2 years ago
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lights, camera… action — hobie brown
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.
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hobie's got a thing for the camera. he can't stop starting his timer and setting his phone up on his dresser against his albums, lens pointed at the end of his messy bed. sat down on the edge, sweats pulled down just enough to free his already-hard cock drooling pre-cum, he gives his camera another show.
he gives you another show.
the first stroke is his favorite, when he finally gets to touch his dick in a video he knows you'll cum to, painted nails toying with your pussy that he knows so well he can see behind his closed eyelids.
leaning back on one hand on his bed, ruffled black comforter framing his brown skin beautifully, he spits into his palm, looking up through his eyelashes with low eyes fixed on himself on the screen. "look a mess, playin' with myself for a camera," he chuckles, bringing his slick hand to wrap around his aching cock.
he looks the opposite of a mess, though, low lights in his room making his skin glow, illuminating his big, pretty cock for his and your eyes. wet hand sliding up and down his cock, his hips jerk up, chasing the pleasure he gives himself.
his toned stomach caves in, the hand that’s holding him up starts to shake as he finds his sweet pace, the one that has him cumming fast and hard. “fuck, feel s’good,” he grits, eyes finding the camera again as another fucked-out laugh rumbles through him.
he shakes his head at the image of himself, slim fingers wrapped around his long cock, eyes low and heavy, mouth open and panting, desperate sounds escaping him. slowing down, he brings his hand to wrap around his thick base, squeezing just a little. he slaps his cock against his stomach, purring, “can’t cum too fast, gotta make it worth it, make it good.”
he wants to make it good for you. he always does.
he leans farther on his other hand, stroking his cock again, slowly, shuddering out a moan with closed eyes. he works his way up, cursing and groaning, until he throws his head back with a pretty little whine, slick thumb swiping slow over his messy tip.
he focuses on his tip, now, hips jerking at the stimulation, eyes fixed on where he works himself. “‘m so desperate, need to feel good, need you t’watch me make myself feel good.” he confesses, whimpered words that you knew to be true already. his talk sends shivers down his own spine, the thought that you’ll enjoy his slurred words bringing him closer to spilling all over his hand.
“fuckfuckfuck,” he whines, far beyond moans and groans, fucked out and pleasure-full. hips jerking into his hand, fingers adorned with rings gripping his sheets.. he’s close. “can’t believe ‘m close already, god ‘m just a slut, jerkin’ myself for a fuckin’ video. but i’m your slut, ‘m yours.”
he’s rambling, perverted thoughts slipping to memories of you jerking him off, skilled hand wrapped around his aching cock, purring praises into his ear, other hand roaming his body while you litter kisses anywhere you can reach in between porn-worthy words. “‘m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum all over myself, jus’ for you. wish you were here to watch, t’make me cum instead.”
now, with thoughts of you flitting through his mind, he cums, gritting out jumbled up letters, from wishing you were here, to knowing you’d make him feel so much better, to plans of letting you jerk him when he sees you again.
regaining his breath, he can’t help but laugh again, eyes fixed on the mess he made of himself. he brings his hand to his chest, swirling his fingers around in his cum, depraved and disgusting. hazy eyes finding the camera, one of the only witnesses to his depravity, with a wicked smile on his face, leaning back on both arms now, he speaks, blissed and nasty.
“see you next time.”
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boytearscore · 5 months ago
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i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.
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summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.
warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.
taglist: @chericherrybaby, @fratbrochrisgf, @sturncakez <33
author’s note: so... funny story, girls... i got home from work last night and started writing but fell asleep with my phone on my face. hope you can forgive me, though. anyways, enjoyyy! xo 💋💋💋
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟸/𝟸)
friday night, 9pm. 
you smile excitedly as you are getting ready to a party at the triplets house, eyes and hands are focused on the eyeliner, red lipstick already highlighting the lips and a black short dress moulding your curves. on top of that, underneath it, you were wearing orange lingerie. chris favorite colour, was it a little petty? yes, but you’re not about to lose this dare. absolutely no fucking way.
when you finished recording the video with them, nick had the idea of throwing a party the next day, he wanted to see chaos between you and chris for his own entertainment and so did matt. chris, on the other hand, has already been sending you risky texts and some pictures of his covered hard dick and other parts of the body he knew you were attracted to with captions like “give up already.” and “can’t wait to hear you beg and moan my name.”
you ignored all of it just to give him the impression you were threatened and shy when in reality, there was a whole plan ready to be put in action since he opened his mouth.
finally, you’re done. everything looked impeccable: hair falling over your chest that was mostly exposed by the dress cleavage, a pair of black tights that were connected to the lingerie and black leather boots that went to your knees, not to mention you smell incredible.
after checking yourself one more time in the mirror, a smirk painted in your lips, chris was not ready for that. 
it was 10:30pm when you arrived at their house, loud music playing and people everywhere dancing, drinking and even throwing up.
you calmly go through the crowd of people when a pair of hands suddenly grab your hips pressing both bodies and you feel lips into your ear. the person didn’t even need to say anything, you could tell who it was by their scent.
“ready to be my little slut?” you feel the hot breath caressing your skin and the deep voice with a stupid cocky chuckle.
“not even in your dreams, christopher.” you reply, turning to him. matt and nick behind him laughing, that’s definitely the most fun they’ve been having in a while.
he smirks and you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing his body, he has a black tank top that was complimenting his collar bones, shoulders and abdomen. 
and chris would notice you savouring him, but he was too busy staring at your boobs. his mind racing with the thoughts of cumming all over them.
“it feels like i’m watching a porn without the sex part, just the eyes.” matt says and you both break glances at each other laughing.
“is no one gonna grab me a drink?” you ask, rolling your eyes and nick give you a “excuse me?” look.
“you’ve been here more than our parents, go get it yourself.” he replies and you just shrug.
“fucking worst host ever.” you murmur making sure he heard before going to the kitchen and opening the fridge, all you could think of was chris.
he looked so hot wearing that damn black tank top, why didn’t you notice how attractive he was before the bet? it’s like a blindfold was taken away from your eyes, you imagined him on his knees, pleading and whimpering in front of you. things got even more interesting now.
you grab a drink and take a huge sip, ignoring the burning feeling in your throat and walking again through the people, some you knew, some not. you danced either way, a few guys eyeing you from afar and then one came behind you, dancing.
“you alone?” he whispered into your ear and you smiled, turning to him and grabbing his hands to dance.
“always.” he smiles back at you, rolling you around and grabbing your hips. you started dancing, he was cute and really hot.
that didn’t last much, though. 
someone abruptly grabbed your hand, making you look behind you with an angry expression. 
“today you’re not.” 
it was chris.
the guy just stared at chris and vanished away not wanting any trouble, you glance at the blue eyed boy, giving him the dirtiest look.
“what?” he shrugs, smiling. “i’m not sharing you with anyone today, whether you like it or not.”
you give him an eye roll but you’re not mad, it’s not like that guy was hotter than chris anyway.
“don’t ever grab my hand like that again.” you tell him with a serious face and he just nods, looking apologetic. “only if i allow you to.”
you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking your body to the music. chris instantly smiles, his hands pressing hard on your hips. your fingers running to his hair, and you can’t help but push them back making him gasp.
“you’re such a menace.” he whispers, a hand sliding to your ass and turning you around.
you could feel everything, his hips crushing into yours and his dick getting harder everytime you brushed your ass while dancing. part of your plan was working and you didn’t even get started yet.
you turn to chris and place your hand around his neck, nails scratching it slightly causing him goosebumps.
he couldn’t resist the temptation, grasping your back and leaning in for a kiss, but you stopped him with a finger on his lips.
“not yet.” you smirk at him and he stares at you confused. “just shut your mouth and just follow me, or you won’t be having any fun tonight.” he thinks for a while and nods, not saying anything, the finger drawing a straight line down from his lips to his collar, dragging him upstairs.
when you both get to his room, he closes the door and throws you on the bed, getting on top of your body and pressing his torso against you.
you smirk, just watching him trying his best to be dominant, suddenly, his hand slid underneath your dress, touching slightly your inner thigh. you let out a small sigh, his hand was so warm and it felt so good.
“look at ya.” he mumbled into your ear, moving his hand closer to your pussy. “i’m not doing anything yet and you’re already gasping.”
you don’t say anything, just letting him play his game before yours starts. chris chuckles, amused by your unusual reaction, that motivated him to keep going.
his face close to yours, eyes staring at your lips before shutting them down and brushing both slightly against each other.
you wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his hair and he finally kisses you. not a gentle kiss, an obscene one. tongues fighting and wet sounds, chris can’t help but moan when he feels your nails digging on his back. 
his hand finally touches your pussy covered by the lingerie and you moan biting his bottom lip. he laughs, breaking the contact and looks at you, usually that would be the perfect moment for a cocky comment, but he couldn’t fight the urge to tear apart your black tights and pull the dress to your waist, revealing the orange lingerie.
he’s stunned by a second, moving away from your body to take a better look.
“you fucking bitch.” he says, grabbing your chin and bringing you close to his face agresseviely. “you did this on purpose, didn’t you? to tease me.” he asks while using the other hand to undress you completely. “you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he throws you again on the bed, an expression on his face you’ve never seen before.
you smile, opening your legs in front of him and looking beneath lashes, still not saying anything. too bad for chris, but you knew him more than himself. he loves to talk shit and act all nonchalant, but he hates when people don’t engage or ignore it.
chris frowned, staring between your legs and to drive him even more mad, you placed a hand on your inner thigh, slowly going up until it got to your pussy, your fingers teasing it over the lingerie and moaning and making faces while staring intensely at his eyes.
the boy is speechless, he never got so hard and never felt this urgent need to fuck someone before. the sound of your voice moaning and the way you touched yourself, he was mesmerised by everything.
“chris…” you finally use one of your cards, biting your lips and moaning his name.
he can’t hold himself anymore, chris takes off his shirt and pants, still wearing boxes and walks towards you, the smirk on his face vanished a long time ago, all you could see was pure lust.
“you’re driving me crazy by doing that.” he leans against you, using one knee to support himself over the bed, making sure to rub your wet pussy with it. “that’s a dangerous game, i’m warning you.”
you can’t help but laugh, lifting one leg up to reach his dick and rubbing it slowly, his lips parted into a loud moan, tilting his head to the back.
“it seems to me you’re the one about to beg, chris.” for the first time in minutes, you spoke. he immediately looks at you, not liking your comment one bit but feeling his dick twitch.
“that’s rich coming from someone who just moaned my name like a slut.” he replies, grabbing you leg and dragging you to him, now you are completely laid down on the bed, he bends over to reach your waist and slides your panties till your ankle.
“i’m keeping this.” he smirks and throws the orange lingerie on his nightstand. “alright, i’m gonna eat you out till you cum all over my face.” he gets on his knees, leaning closer to your dripping wet pussy. you could feel his breath hitting the sensitive area and that made you shiver. 
“thought you were gonna make me beg.” you say, watching every single move he makes. chris licks your clit without warning, causing loud moans from you. “fuck.”
he laughs, staring at you between your legs, hands spreading them as much as he can.
“no silly, i’m gonna make you beg me to fuck you.” he groaned, finally eating you out deliciously, his tongue alternating between flexing the muscles while inside you and letting it loose when sucking and licking all of it.
you grab his hair violently, pushing it hard while rolling your hips into his mouth. 
chris was getting harder by second, to the point his dick started to hurt a little. he was moaning and eating you out at the same time, the vibrations causing you an insane amount of pleasure.
“fuck, chris.” you whisper, biting your lips to hide how much you were enjoying it. no guy has ever eaten you out like that before.
so much so that you were about to cum into his mouth, your legs started shaking and the grip on his hair got tighter. he notices your body reactions and smirk, licking and sucking even more faster and intensely.
your moans get louder, you feel contractions through your whole body, soon releasing all the pleasure and cumming into chris mouth.
he licks everything, letting your pussy clean and gets on the bed, crawling on top of you. you smiled at him and he could sense something coming but decided to ignore, all he wanted was to hear the magic words from your pretty mouth.
“i bet i’m the first guy to make you cum that fast, huh?” he says finally being face to face with you, his hard covered dick brushing against your bare pussy and both arms on each side of your head, you were so close that you could feel his heartbeats pressed over your chest, he reach your neck, kissing and sucking on it making soft gasps come out of your lips. 
“beg me.” he murmured in your ear, one hand grabbing your boob and squeezing it hard. the pain felt so good, but you’re not about to lose. “beg me to fuck your little pussy.”
he stares at you, his hand going lower until it reaches your core, sliding one finger inside. your back curves, but you smile at him not showing signs of redemption.
and that’s when you decided it’s time.
with a quick move, you revert the positions, thanks to all the self defence classes you took a long time ago, getting a man off top of you wasn’t hard. 
chris was shocked, his eyes widened and his lips suddenly opened like he was about to say something but couldn’t.
“you’ve failed.” you tell him, smirking. both of his hands were on top of his head, held by yours. with an evil expression, you press your ass against his dick and he melts under you. “it’s my turn now.”
you go for his lips first, and even though his ego was bruised by the fact that you could easily turn the situation to your favour, he’s too horny to care.
both lips were crashing hard while tongues enlaced, the grip of your hand holding his writs got even tighter when he started to move them, the other one was slowly creeping to his abdomen, chris moaned and gasp onto your lips and when you finally reached his dick, removing his boxers to expose his hard cock.
and then something slaps your back, making you look behind.
“holy shit.” you opened your mouth, turning yourself completely to make sure you saw correctly. “you’re fucking huge, chris.”
he laughs, finding your reaction cute and sitting on the bed when you let his hands go.
“think you can take it?” he asks and you stare back at him, smiling.
“only if you beg me first.” you reply, grabbing his dick and teasing the tip of it with your finger, chris closes his eyes and moans a curse word. “c’mon..” you whisper, slowly pumping him and his back curves. “beg me.”
“please…” he murmured, avoiding your gaze.
you smirk, feeling your pussy dripping. he looked so fucking hot doing that. 
since chris was sitting, you easily extended your arm to his hair, pulling it hard to make him stare at you.
“say it again.” you order him spreading all the pre cum over the base of his dick and pulling harder his hair, chris was losing his mind at this point.
“please, let me fuck you.” he asks almost politely with his eyes glued on yours, his cheeks were a slight shade of pink and his red glossy lips parted, letting out shaken breaths. 
you don’t answer, just push his shoulders to the bed making him fall and lifting yourself up to get on top of him again, the gaze between both of you was so intense and sexual.
you positioned his cock on your entry, teasing him a little by rolling your hips and chris bite his lip, you didn’t wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him.
and so you did, sliding his dick slowly inside you with a frown expression and eyes closed.
“does it hurt?” he asks worriedly, grabbing your hips with both hands and fighting the urge to make you jump hard on him.
“yes.” you reply opening your eyes, starting to bounce at a slow pace. “that’s how i like it.”
you feel his dick twitch inside you with your comment, he slaps one of your ass cheeks hard, and you moan loudly.
“you like that, huh?” one more slap, this time harder. you were already bouncing crazy on his dick and both of you were moaning so much that if the loud music wasn’t playing downstairs, everyone would hear. and honestly, none of you cared.
“shit.” chris growns, digging his short nails on your waist. you leaned a little to wrap your finger around his throat and he closes his eyes, gasping. 
“so much for a dom.” you say with a shaky voice from the bouncing, tightening the grip around his neck.
he doesn’t say anything, his mind was fuzzy and raced. all he could do was moan and whimper loudly. 
the twitches got stronger and you could tell he was about to cum.
“gonna cum?” you ask him and he nods desperately, but then you stop moving. he looks at you, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure. “say you’re my little slut, chris.” you incline over, rolling your hips in slow motion and biting his bottom lip. “say it.”
he lets out a huge sigh with the painful feeling of holding an orgasm, his eyes locked into yours, a few hair strands falling over them and sweat dripping from his forehead.
“i’m your little slut.” he whispers, pressing his hands hard on your waist.
you smile at him, finally moving faster. chris feels the lack of oxygen with the combination of an insane amount of pleasure get to his head. he looks at you like he’s about to say something and you notice his hesitation.
“what?” 
“can i please cum on your boobs?” he avoids your gaze again and you feel like squeezing his cheeks, finally you nod. bouncing a couple more times and when he finally starts shaking, you get off of his lap, sitting on your knees.
chris gets up, he tries to grab his own dick, but you slap his hand.
“who the fuck said you could touch yourself?” you smirk, leading a hand wrap around his cock and begins to leisurely pump, chris tilts his head back, coming all over your boobs while you could capture every detail, his husky voice and his dick twitching uncontrollably while lots of cum shower your boobs, you made sure to get it all to your fingers and lick until there’s nothing left there.
slowly, his moans got quieter and he finishes cumming. he looks down at you, smiling and lending you a hand to get up, you smile back and grab his hand getting up.
“i fucking hate you.” he groans, pushing you closer to him by the hand and you laugh.
“that’s what someone who just lost a bet would say.” you reply and give him a little peck, he just rolls his eyes and laughs too.
“i’m doomed.” he slapped himself while you were putting back your dress, making you chuckle.
“don’t worry, my little slut.” you say calmly while putting back your boots. “you���re safe with me.” you say, giving him a wink and grabbing his tank top, throwing it at him. “you should use this more often though.”
chris squinted his eyes and a grin formed on his lips.
“will i fuck you everytime i wear this again?” he asks and you get up, turning to him.
“no, i’m the one who’s gonna fuck you.” 
when you both were properly dressed, chris opens the door so you two could go downstairs, but something was waiting for him right outside.
“i believe you have something to say, chris.” nick and matt were leaned against the wall, arms crossed and lips pressed trying hard not to laugh.
but you can’t control yourself, letting a loud laugh come out of your lips, making them unable to control themselves as well. the only one serious was chris, who rolled his eyes and stared at the three of you, sighing loudly.
“fine…” he groans and turn to you, at least he got the best fuck of his life, so he wasn’t that mad. “i was wrong.”
you, nick and matt burst out laughing again and chris holds in for a while, but soon enough he’s laughing too. 
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urhoneycombwitch · 9 months ago
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my baby puts his mouth on me
Eddie Munson x shy!Reader
foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events.
cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 
wc: 2.2k
___
Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.
So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.
You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 
“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”
”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”
You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 
For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).
Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”
“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”
With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.
In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.
“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”
“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.
“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.
Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it."
He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nimble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.
“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”
Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.
“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.
Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.
On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.
“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”
Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.
There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.
“Hey.” 
There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.
Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”
His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.
“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”
It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.
“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”
Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 
You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.
The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”
As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-
“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 
The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.
There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 
“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”
“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.
His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-
“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 
You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 
What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.
A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.
But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 
The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”
A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.
There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 
___
for more shy!Reader content: masterlist
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xsleepinggoodx · 7 months ago
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morning sex <3
WARNINGS: somnophilia, horny Mikey, Mikey being lovedrunk on you, foreplay, oral (fem receiving) fingering. (Fem receiving) sub! Reader, service dom Mikey, softdom Mikey, tender love💕
Mikey with long black hair is extremely underrated.
This song has literally nothing to do with the story the instrumentals just give me black long hair Mikey vibes I don’t know how to explain it😭
Enjoy💕
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Waking up hard wasn’t foreign to Mikey. But it was difficult to take care of. Especially when his lovely wife is sleeping so soundly next to him.
The soft early morning sunlight on your body on just the right places made him admire you for minutes. Almost drooling on how the golden lights cascaded on your body like a professional painting. You were sleeping so soundly though, a happy and relaxed expression on your face. Fabric marks on your arms. You were probably having a fun dream.
He felt guilty for even considering to bother you, but a memory flashed in his mind to where you and him were discussing your secret kinks.
You’re blushing face, hiding away from Mikey’s shocked eyes.
“Since when were you that kinda freaky,baby? That came outta nowhere!” Mikey’s jaw dropped.
“Stop acting like your don’t have worse ideas…I’m just saying it’d probably feel good and I wouldn’t be opposed to you d..d-doing it to me..” you cursed yourself for stuttering. His laughing echoing loud.
He chuckled from the memory and how you were too bashful to even make eye contact with him. Poor, sweet baby. He thought.
He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears. A love-sick smile on his face from how delicious you look right now. He carefully got on top of you, kissing you cheek, moving to your jawline. Leaving hickies here and there, softly moving to your neck. Enjoying how even in your sleep, your whimpering subtly.
Sucking on your sensitive skin, You smelled of vanilla and flowers. Warm from the long bath you and him had from last night. His hand in yours, squeezing it softy and oh so tender. He seemed to be wrapped around your finger.
His kisses moved down to your collarbone, sucking more. Hickies appeared more and more as he moved down. He lifted you blouse up to reveal your stomach, kissing it softly. His hands clasping around your pants, pulling it down with ease.
Once you were finally only in your panties. He had to stop himself to devour you whole. Your thighs squeezed together, making them look plushier than they already are. His calloused hands gently smoothing them apart. He kisses on your inner thighs, a soft sigh leaves you as he kisses so softly on your thighs. You repositioned yourself, your lower half getting closer to his head. He smirks at this as he’s midway to your center.
He licks your center, right on your panties making you softly moan. Your thighs lightly twitch and he chuckles. Vibrations right in your core. You whine in your sleep, your dream slowly combining with reality.
Painfully slow, he slides down your panties, revealing your wet pussy. He groans. His cock hardening more at the sight. You’re asleep and you’re still wet. So naughty.
He kisses your inner thighs moving closer to your center. Black onyx eyes on your face like a hawk. He licks a long lick from your entrance to your clit. A jolt on your body as you whimper. He smiles as he kisses your sensitive clit, circling figure 8s on it. Your other hand, unoccupied by Mikey’s hand, unconsciously gripping the sheets below you. Soft, needy moans escaping your mouth.
“A-ah! m-Mikey…mmmh” you moan loudly as you throw your head back.
He hums as he speeds up his tongue on your clit, from side to side to up and down slowly, enough to have you awake. Your eyebrows furrowed, a bratty whine escaping your lips as you wrap your legs around Mikey’s head, chasing your orgasm. Your hips arched as he sucked on your clit, your wetness dripping down and he happily licks it all up.
“M-Mikey! I’m- oh!.. I’m g-gonna cum.—“
Speeding his tongue once more as you orgasm with a breathy moan. He has never heard anything more beautiful. You whimper when he continues to suck your clit, coming down from your high. You get up on your elbows as he finishes cleaning you off with his tongue. Getting up and immediately attaching his lips on yours. Tongue in your mouth, tasting yourself as your moan in kiss. He pulls back, saliva connecting your lips.
“You taste so good, love~” he says, a teasing smile on his lips. You only look away bashfully.
Your positions changed to you on your side with Mikey making out with you. His hand wandered as he groped your breasts, deepening the kiss. His hand slides down to rub tight circles on your clit. Going faster and faster as you moan, too tired to keeping making out with him as you catch your breath in his neck.
“M-Mikey!” You try to grip his arm but he only sighs, his mouth in an ‘o’ shape. Groaning on your cunt pulsing.
he kisses your earlobe, increasing your stimulation. A loud gasp escapes you as he stuffs two fingers in you, not hesitating to thrust them in and out. Curling his fingers on your g-spot, earning whines and whimpers from you. He speeds up as you squirt on his fingers. Earning a loud groan from him as you twitch under him, moaning loudly. As you come down from your high. He kissed your cheek and kissed your lips again. Mikey loved kissing.
Moments passed and he already had you cleaned up, in your soft pjs again.
“Was that a good morning?🥰” he said as he teasingly looked at you, you only flushed deep red.
“I could do better~” you finally said back.
“Oh really?~” he said, grabbing ng your face to kiss you again.
You got too lucky with him.
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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year ago
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(18+!!) ok wait so… It’s Halloween… you’re out with Tate… he can’t keep it together because your costume makes him horny.
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Tate holds your hand tightly as you both venture down the sidewalk. His costume is eerily familiar. He wears a long, black trench coat and his face had been painted in likeness to a skeleton. His blonde, usually curly, hair is slicked back out of his face. His grip on your hand tightens as you pass by other people your age, some shamelessly taking in the appearance of your revealing costume. Much to Tate’s annoyance, you insisted that Halloween was the one time of year you had an excuse to dress like you were begging for it. The delicate lace that decorates your cleavage distracts Tate more than once. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans just from lingering beside you. At times, he takes a moment to trail behind you to catch a glimpse of the mounded flesh of your ass cheeks from under your tiny skirt. You know what his game is, of course, and occasionally brush the back of your hand across the front of his jeans. Tate doesn’t take to it lightly, and after teasing him for the forth, and final, time, he has no choice but to trap you behind a big, oak tree in the park and bend you over. His fingers make quick work of your panties, tugging the thin, soaked piece of fabric down your long legs. Your ass jiggles around his hand as he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them upwards to press against your sweet spot. “Thought you could tease me and get away with it? In that little, slutty costume?” He mumbles huskily against the shell of your ear, tickling his nose with the freshly-washed hair on the side of your head. You smelt like vanilla, and a hint of coconut. A sweet and sensual scent that had Tate moaning softly against you. Tate spits, directly onto your needy cunt, using his fingertips to spread the saliva over your pulsing clit. “Tate, please, I need you inside me,” you plead, reaching around to grasp onto his throbbing cock, sure to be staining his boxers with smears of pre-cum. Tate unveils his rock-hard length, stroking it with a mix of your arousal and his saliva. He teases you, circling your entrance with the leaking tip of his cock. Caving to his own eagerness, it’s not long before Tate is stretching you out with his girth. Your fingernails dig into the flaking bark of the tree, trying your hardest to find the leverage you need to soften each ravaging thrust. Soft whimpers turn into loud, destitute moans. Tate’s hand wraps around your mouth to stop the ruckus you’re making in an attempt to shield you from the eyes of passer-byers. “That’s it baby, take my fucking cock. You love how it fills you to the fucking brim, don’t you?” Tate’s grip on you only get tighter as he slams into your poor, little cunt, using it to alleviate his painful desire for you. Stars appear behind your closed eyelids when Tate’s free hand slithers down between your body and the trunk of the tree to stimulate your swollen clit. “Uh fuck- can feel you squeezing tight around me, let up sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum,” Tate seethes behind clenched teeth, the lewd, squelching sounds each thrust pulls from your dripping cunt pushing you both a step towards release. It’s not long before the intense pleasure of Tate’s tip nudging against your sweet spot sends you over the edge. Tate holds you up as your orgasm washes over you in big, tremulous waves. Tate growls into your hair, a few last thrust just enough for him to let go inside of your clenching walls. When he pulls out, he’s quick to pull up your panties, rubbing over the cloth to make sure his cum stays with you. “You’re gonna walk around the rest of the night with these soaking wet panties. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint. You little tease.” He tucks himself away, and taking a hold of your hand again, he begins to pace down the sidewalk like nothing happened. Even though, you can barely stand on your two feet from how weak your legs are now.
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ravenna-reid · 10 months ago
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CRIMSON RED
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Jason Todd x Pain Inflictor Reader
TW: nothing crazy, just swearing and mentions of violence
˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖
All they called you was Crimson.
Maybe because of your signature lipstick and that lace that was always in your hair.
Or maybe because of the blood you drew out of your targets without so much as raising a finger.
A telekinetic pain inflictor. The worst kind of metahuman.
But Red Hood had no reason to worry about you just yet. You tended to keep a low profile and there were bigger fish to fry. And if he was being honest, the sound of you and your abilities were kind of terrifying.
Jason's little mission all went wrong though, given his intel was missing key information. Now he was bound to a chair in a warehouse with a dripping roof. And that dripping eerily echoed as he sat and waited. Desperately keeping his fears and demons at bay.
Being tied to a chair. The looming threat of torture. It all hit a little too close to home.
Two-Face eventually sauntered into view, the rest of the warehouse behind and beside him concealed in shadows. Jason had to grimace every time he saw his face.
"You ugly bastard." Jason retorted, masking his fear with snarky insults and sarcasm. "Gotten work done recently?" He nodded towards Harvey's face with his head.
"Son of a bitch." Two-Face's face contorted with rage. "I would watch my mouth if I were you. You're finally gonna die tonight, and this time you won't be coming back."
Jason swallowed hard, pissed off that he didn't have his helmet to hide the fear-inducing anticipation on his pale face.
"But we'll let the coin decide how this is gonna play out."
So Harvey went on with his odd ritual and flipped his coin. It landed on the tarnish side, and Jason had no idea what that meant. Suddenly, Two-Face was calling out to someone behind him. Someone hidden deep within the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Jason waited and waited, sweat dripping down the side of his face.
He expected a gruesome looking thug or some other high profile villain. Maybe Penguin, or even Harley.
The sound of heeled boots slowly echoed through out his bleak surroundings, accompanied by a laugh like velvet. You soon came into view.
Crimson mask concealing the top half of your face, the colour matching that string of lace that sat comfortably in your hair. Your usual deep red outfit hugged your body, similar to Catwoman's except for the fact that it wasn't a whole bodysuit. And of course, your stark, scarlet lips were contorted into a sinister smile.
He'd seen you around. But seeing you this close in person was a different story. Jason's breath hitched once you were right in front of him. Truthfully, he never intended to meet you. And now it was so much worse given you would be the one torturing him tonight.
Fuck this mission really went south.
"Here, the coin says you get to toy with him tonight." Two-Face said with a dismissive wave of his hand and scoff as he turned his back. "I have a deal I need to be making soon."
Jason watched as he left, muscles stiff with frustration and venom in his eyes. This was the deal Jason was supposed to be preventing.
As Jason's eyes lingered on Two-Face, your eyes were focused on him. His ivory skin and deep, jet black hair. The aggravated expression painted across his face. That muscular figure.
And that odd looking J scar on the side of his face.
"Red Hood..." Your voice lingered and shivers suddenly went down Jason's arms. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Can't say I feel the same way." He responded harshly, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to devise an escape plan. Which would, most likely, be futile and stupid.
"Mmm, mean. It's not like you're a saint Red." You calmly pointed out, voice smooth like wine.
And then he looked up at you. "Oh, really? You're one to talk? Ms snaps someones bones and crushes their lungs with a blink of an eye."
Finally making contact, you saw the confliction swirling in those eyes, and for some odd reason something tightened your throat.
Jason didn't miss the subtle furrow of your brows as you neared him. Slowly circling him like a predator.
"Deciding what bone you're going to break first?"
You scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. As you walked behind Jason he began to feel his skin crawl, his heart beat faster. He wished you were standing in front of him again. Staring down at him the way you were.
As you went around him, you noticed the back of his shirt was slightly tugged down, revealing slithers of iridescent scars. Many, many scars.
"What are you doing?" He snapped, but you remained silent until you faced him again. And this time all you did was stare back at him, mind deep in thought. Something stirred deep in your chest. Regret? Sympathy?
"You're just a kid." The words left your mouth in a gentle whisper as you realised he was probably no older than you.
So no, he wasn't a kid. But he wasn't old enough to have his body broken by you. Sure, you butchered people with your mind all the time. But they were criminals. Enemies. Scum. They always had it coming. But him? Red Hood?
You just couldn't do it. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But you couldn't. You wondered where Two-Face was and how he'd react to your odd decision. But hell, you didn't care about ignoring Two-Face's order. Rules and regulations never stopped you before, and what was he going to do?
Jason initially wanted to get even more mad about that statement. Insulted that you just called him a boy when he was in his 20's. But he kept to himself, continuing to watch you closely.
"So what are you gonna do now huh? Cause this game is getting a little boring Crimson."
His attitude made you smirk a little. You suddenly slipped a red-blade dagger from your belt. Jason frowned, wondering why you wouldn't just use you powers, when you cut the zip ties and rope keeping him bound.
Now he was glancing up at you, eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.
"You gonna go or did you actually want me to hurt you?" You asked, brows raised. But already knowing the answer, you were turning to leave.
"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was accusing you of something. You turned to look back over your shoulder.
The sympathy was back, but also a few other feelings. Butterflies in your stomach and what not. Shit he was handsome.
"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're kinda cute."
He scoffed before grabbing his helmet from the floor. "Spare me."
Suddenly a sharp pain began in his knees before they turned into brittle leaves. He dropped down onto them and stayed there as the pain began to subside. Then he shot a glare up at you. You were already standing before Jason and looking down at him, that smug smile on your pretty face.
"Mm," You hummed, eyes dancing across his features as you took him in. "Very cute."
Then you turned to leave, and Jason was left blushing and speechless.
Part 2
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authorhjk1 · 4 months ago
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Hi again author-nim. I saw a recent ask about Krystal and suddenly went to look for more content, I hope its her time to shine now considering how scarce her content is here on Tumblr. I hope you can be the game changer for second gen since more second gen content are starting to be discovered now by other readers out there.
May I suggest for two fics iydm? Pretty pls.
For the first fic:
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For the second fic:
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Have a great week ahead of you and stay safe! Peace.
Sparkling Silver
(Krystal Jung X Male Reader)
You look sexy in a suit. That's what she said. And as soon as she did say that, you knew what was gonna happen soon.
While most of your days do end in sex these days, Krystal's compliment indicated that she would take advantage of you even before the two of you got home. She got invited to an art gallery, hence the fancy dress. She brought you along as her plus one, despite you not caring about paintings or art or whatever in the slightest.
The only reason you're here, is because Krystal asked you to. And whenever she does take you with her to these events, you can be sure that she will reward you afterwards. In one way or another. After seeing her in that dress, you really hope it's sex. Especially after she gave you that compliment, when the two of you entered the gallery. A nice car and nice clothes are cool and all, but Krystal has something else that is of much more worth to you. And you can't wait for this event to end, so you can get your hands on it.
To be fair though, you aren't the one who often gets inappropriate in public. Whenever you're out with Krystal, you make sure you behave, knowing that her image is very important. But sometimes, she doesn't seem to care much. A kiss here, a bite of your earlobe there. A glance towards your crotch while she talks with someone else. A hand on your thigh, when the two of you sit next to each other.
It alll builds up to one thing. And it seems like you're getting exactly that right now. Because Krystal just stole you away from the group of people the two of you were talking to and is now leading you to one of the restrooms.
As soon as the door closes behind you, you pin Krystal against it. You capture her lips with your own as you reach down to cup her tits. You've wanted to do that since you first saw her in this silver dress. Her body looks so slim and tight in it. Only her tits and her ass stand out.
"I really love this dress."
You mumble into the kiss, making Krystal smile.
"I know. And I just get so wet whenever you wear an all black suit."
She almost moans into your mouth. You keep groping her tits as the two of you talk between kisses.
"Is that why you bought me so many?"
"Shut up."
Krystal presses her lips against yours once more. Her tongue explores your mouth. Eventually, Krystal drops down and takes off your pants. She strokes your cock a couple of times, before taking it in her mouth.
Your head rolls back, your hand resting on hers as she sucks you off. For a while, the only sounds in this restroom are the sucking noises of Krystal giving you head. She makes sure to look up at you as she covers your cock in her spit.
"Oh, fuck yes!"
Krystal lets out a high pitched moan as you make her cum all over your face. She is bent over the sink, her dress bunched up around her waist. You lick her lips and her thighs, cleaning up the mess she made. Every lick makes her flinch, still sensitive from her orgasm mere seconds ago.
Once you stand up, you align your cock with her tight pussy. With one smooth thrust, you bury yourself deep inside the young millionaire. She moans your name, telling you to fuck her hard. So you do exactly that. Holding onto her waist, you thrust forward, before backing up again. Only a couple of moments later, you're fully fucking Krystal from behind, making her moan against the mirror. Her eyes are fixated on herself as she watches herself getting pounded like a whore.
"Yes, baby. Deeper."
You drive yourself further into her, making sure you pleasure her as much as possible.
"Fuck me hard. Make me cum."
Her voice becomes higher as she says that last word and you can feel that Krystal is getting close once more. You hear someone knocking on the door.
"Occupied!"
You shout, right before you pick up the pace.
"Yes! Ruin me!"
You wonder if the person on the other side heard her.
Focusing back on Krystal, you reach around her waist with one hand, looking for her clit. Once you found it, you start playing with it. She suddenly starts to buck her hips in your direction. Her moans become higher, louder.
The two of you make eye contact through the mirror. Her eyes are begging you to give her another mind blowing orgasm. A moment later, her head drops between her shoulders. You focus on her ass, watching how it shakes with every thrust you deliver.
Until you finally push Krystal to the edge once more. Her thighs shake. A high moan. Her back arched further. And then you feel her pussy clamping down around you. It's walls squeezing your cock. Her body wants you to cum inside of her. And you are not one to decline such an offer.
Youu keep fucking Krystal through her orgasm. Both of your hands are now holding onto her still clothed tits. You enjoy the familiar feeling of her mounds in your palms. Leaning down a little, you kiss the naked skin on her exposed shoulders.
One last groan into her ear and you unload inside of her. Krystal sighs, her body taking your load with practiced ease.
"This felt so good. So freeing."
She says and you notice how relaxed she sounds now.
"Are we going back to this insanely interesting event, that is not at all boring?"
Your complaints in the car on your way hear were duely noted already. And silenced with a quick blowjob.
Krystal turns around, letting your cock slip out of her cum filled pussy. She grabs your tie and pulls you in for another deep kiss.
"Lets see how long it takes until they notice we're gone."
You grin at her, placing your hands on her thighs.
"I'll make sure they hear you loud and clear."
----------------
Hi everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the next chapter of the series. I've been working a lot on the next SNDS Village chapter, hence the lack of posts. I was hoping to finish it today, but I'm only at around 65%. Turns out the chapter contains way more scenes than I first thought it would. I will be finishing it within this week, so stay tuned, it's coming soon.
Stay healthy, everyone!
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beefycupcakes · 5 months ago
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I watched the Cars trilogy recently and with that came a wave of nostalgia and a strange desire to make my own designs for the cars as humans. Aka taking all the charm out of Cars but scratching the brain itch.
So, no need to drag out the intro any longer, I have some notes written out about em for those who might be interested or just bored.
Lightning McQueen:
I tried to make his suit look as professional as possible, with references pulled straight from McQueen's paint job/stickers, while also keeping in mind that I do intend to draw him more so I didn't want to go too crazy with the design. In a perfect world I would've let my maximalist cravings win, but alas let's keep it digestible for my sanity.
I feel like everyone's kinda on this unspoken agreement that McQueen as a human would pretty much look just like Owen Wilson, and that's the big picture here. I used Wilson as inspiration while tweaking and exaggerating a few things to my preference. (Okay, well not everyone, lmao.)
The chevron markings on the front cut off at the side seams not wrapping around the entire suit as to not clash with the sponsor logo on the back.
Also, he's wearing special gloves to help him grip & have control over the steering wheel. I think sometimes that looks a little weird when his sleeves are down & cuffed, but I just feel like he needs to have the gloves there— especially when he comes out of the top half of the suit. (It's also lowkey supposed to mirror his 4 tires when you consider his shoes are also black.)
So yeah, that's basically all I have to to say regarding Lightning McQueen's page. I feel like a lot of my design choices are self explanatory and, honestly probably shared universally... I mean, he's really cut & dry. (But I love him ⚡︎)
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Mater:
I'm not gonna lie, Mater was a bit challenging for me. I definitely had to step out of my comfort zone but I wanted to stay true to the character and not butcher anything.
My first thought was to give him a fishing pole to substitute for the tow hook— but then the more I was thinking about it, the more that felt so... out of place? Radiator Springs is in Arizona, which is (not entirely, but mostly depicted in the movie as) a desert. And even though there are beautiful bodies of water in Arizona, in the movie I don't recall seeing any prominent ones, at least in relation to Mater. So, scratch that, instead I gave him a lasso, which isn't supposed to entirely substitute for the tow truck— no, he still drives a tow truck, but the lasso is so he can grab people/things similarly to Tow Truck Mater (very cartoony). My explanation for this is the cattle ranch. Yeah, Mater is a tow truck driver but perhaps he has a side hustle, or hobby, if you will.
Also, I didn't want to make him... dirty(??) Like, yeah, of course, Mater would obviously get a bit filthy from time to time, it's just in his nature, but that is NOT going to be the core of my design. In regards to the rust happening on him, I felt like instead I would substitute this with being very tan. Again, Arizona is a desert. Because of this, he would take off his shirt often, and this would substitute for the missing hood like on Tow Truck Mater. The removal of the shirt also reveals just how tan Mater actually is.
It's his uniformed overalls that have his original aqua color, but from years of wear & tear they've been patched up with brown patches, this would also reference the rusting. The one strap is supposed to mimic the one headlight being broken, and I know that's a stretch, believe me, I wanted to do something with his eyes but eyes are not the headlights in the Cars universe..... think about this. Think about it really hard... if you know what the headlights are in the Cars universe then this actually makes perfect sense.
He is taller and wider than McQueen, which is a reference to the literal frame of their vehicle counterparts. (A little hard to picture with these images, but eventually I'll draw them together!)
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That's all I have to say really, but do let me know what you guys think! Gas it up and it might encourage me to make a part 2 with some of the other characters! Who would you like to see next? ♡ Thank you so much for reading & have a great day, Kachow!!
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 11 months ago
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Playing Dangerously
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Paring: fem!reader × Natasha x Bucky
Warnings: SMUT, threesome, Dom!Nat, SwitchBucky, sub!reader, mommy kink, daddy kink, dumbification, oral, teasing, slight alcohol consumption, fingering, pet names,
A/N: I’m not really a shipper of this but friends with benefits Winterwidow is so hot. @syndote this one is for you.
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!
Masterlist
Don't get me wrong being with THE black widow was something many could only ever dream about but I had to admit that sometimes I felt like I never really got the chance to try different things. From the Red Room to S.H.I.E.L.D and directly into the red heads arms left little to no space for explorations of my sexuality. Sex with Nat was great and always left me satisfied but I couldn't help to wonder about the forbidden fruit, but mentioning this to Nat could lead to a hefty argument which I didn't want to risk; after all she was all a girl like me could want right?
"Bucky will join us for the mission" I turned away from the laptop screen I was watching an episode of modern family on (after spending so much time in russia I was dying to know what the American dream was like), I hadn't heard Natasha approach, spy I had to remind myself. "I thought this was gonna be a me and you thing" She chuckled leaning over the chair, swiping my hair over my shoulder, and letting her precisely painted lips meet the soft skin of my neck. "You know I only ever have eyes for you my little bunny"
I hummed as her sweetened words hit my ears, and made tingles run down my spine "I know Tasha" I sighed standing up but making the fatal mistake of leaving my laptop open. "I'll just be on the toilet alright?" Natasha hummed deciding to press play again as suddenly there popped up a message from I was way. 
Katja: You should really try to communicate this with your girlfriend before this ruins your relationship. 
Natasha couldn't believe her eyes but curiosity got the better of her and she opens the message; I had told her all about how I waned  to experience sexual things with a man but how unwilling I was to cheat on her. She quickly closed the tab again pretending like she didn't have her master plan planned out already. 
The mission was easy inflate a party, steal some hard drive and go back to the hotel. Even though you were there with your girlfriend the thoughts of trying it out with a man couldn't leave your head. Not that I was interested in having an affair of leaving Nat you just wanted her to have this with you. And the fact that out of all people Bucky had been assigned to you two didn’t make it better. I had long expected the two to had have something going on in the past but never had the courage to ask either. The mission went by quick and you soon found yourself sitting at a hotel bar celebrating our success mission.
***
"I'll have a martin" "A beer for me" The bartender looked at me with expecting eyes "A beer for me too." Sitting between the two I almost felt sandwiched even though there was still space between our bodies. Natasha slipped quietly on her martin while my bottle was still untouched by me I couldn't tear my mind away from the two assassins next to me. "You're awfully quiet Y/N" I heard the deep voice of the Winter Soldier. I opened my mouth before closing it again there were so many words in my heart but so little on my tongue. “You’re normally so filled with life”
I felt Natasha's watchful eyes on my smaller form and suddenly I felt awfully naked in my cocktail dress. "James" her voice was sweet like honey. "Do you remember the last time we were sitting here?" I could practically hear the smirk in her voice "How could I forget that night" He took another slip of his beer bottle. "Are you down for a second time with our little guest" I couldn’t believe my ears was this a lucky guess or did Nat suddenly become a mind reader. I looked down peeling away at the label of the bottle as my cheeks continued to heat up. "I see" he took another close look at me, seizing me up. "I'm down if she is" There were a few seconds of silence with two awaiting eyes in my form; if I wanted to try this now would be the time "Of course" I stated in a quiet voice as I met his lust filled gaze, he only nodded before finishing his bottle. "I'll be in my room"
***
"Strip and lay on the bed" I could hear Natasha's cold words as she went to open to open the door letting Bucky, in his blazer and tie missing, the first few buttons of his white shirt unbuttoned revealing some of his chest hair. Just as he kicked the door closed behind him Nat had him already pressed against the wall as they violently made out with each other. Her hands twisted in his white button up shirt pulling herself impossibly closer to the man. The way Natasha was still containing control of the much stronger man was definitely a turn on. (Not that I had expected it any other way)
Even though she was busy with him from the corner of her eyes I could see she watched me on very move.   She turned away from him sitting down on the cushion of armchair. "James I want you to eat her out" she pulled out a small metal tin with cigarettes in it, lighting herself one "and don't let her cum" He only nodded having seemingly submitted to the redhead without a fight.
He climbed onto my much smaller frame, his eyes scanning my naked form. There was something about the both of them still fully clothed while I was undressed which made me even wetter. He leaned down to catch my lips and my hands went to his short black hair. His tongue fought it's way inside my mouth our tongues dancing a dangerous dance as one of his rough hands went to my breast. He kissed down my neck his beard stubbles irritating my soft skin. 
His chipped lips wrap around one of my nipples and the strong fingers twisted the other. He watched in an awe how my body squirmed under his touch. "Mommy please" I whined out buckling I hips against his hard prick "No sweetie this ain't gonna work" She chuckles blowing out some smoke from her lit cigarette. "Beg Daddy not me, I can't help you little girl" I chocked out another whine as I felt his teeth tugging at my nipple. 
The way his mouth wrapped around my tender flesh made want him even more. He liked over my nipple a few more times each time discovering a new sound escaping from my mouth. Eventually he got bold enough to bit down making me cry out in pure lust. “Daddy please” I didn’t know what I was begging for but the pure title made him moan. He switched sides giving my other nipple the same treatment as his fingers brush over the other one.
He kissed his way down your stomach stopping your hips from buckling as her presses his forearm down on your lower stomach. He kissed your public bone taking in the strong smell of my cunt as he groaned. He took his time kissing and nibbling on the soft skin of my hips. My hands go to his short black hair folding with his soft hair (which somehow was even softer than Nats)
After a while he was done with the teasing having had enough and he just wanted to finally get a taste of Nat’s little girl. He took a bold lick over my cunt moaning inside of my heat as I tried to buckle my hips again but you were stopped by his cold metal arm keeping your hips down.
"Daddy please" I whined, having so much control over a sexual partner did something to him. "No more teasing please" I begged. Natasha (who had been watching closely from the corner) made her way over the the bed puffing out a load of smoke "Be a good boy James" He was seemingly torn between the dominance of having me under him begging for his mercy out still being so obedient to the black widow. It was a match made in heaven or in hell so to say. 
He continued to eat me like the last supper his tongue pressing on the pulsing nub of nerves. Two of his thick fingers pushed passed my tight hole making my eyes roll into the back of my head in pure pleasure, he bit down on my clit sending shock waves through my body. His fingers twisted and turned to to press against my G- spot. I was so close to stumbling of the edge I got a taste of heaven. 
"James stop" I heard her cold voice as he immediately pulled way sitting on his knees and  my juices dripping from the concert of his mouth.  I whined and cried ash the lost of pleasure my tears smudging down my pink cheeks. "Good boy James" She leaned down to kiss him moaning as she tasted my juices on his lips. She pulled away from him whipping the corners of his mouth with her palm. "Would you look at that you made a mess Ana" She inspected your dripping cunt further running two finger through your cunt making you let out a pathetic whimper. She tasted me letting out an extensive moan "I'm almost jealous James got to taste you bunny" 
She whispered something in Bucky's ear and he quietly nods. "Get on all fours Y/N" he rasped in your ear. You placed yourself on all fours and he positioned himself behind you and you heard the sound of this clothes being torn off. "Are you ready" I nodded, my position was beyond embarrassing ass up in the air having gabbed a pillow to bite on.
He pulled down his shorts and let Natasha touch him how she pleased. Her smaller hands wrapped around his pulsing prick I heard him groan as her hands moved up and down his length. Her movements made him impossibly hard a few droplets of pre cum already leaking.
Bucky positioned himself behind me and he slowly pushed his length in making me scream out at the stretch. He let you adjust before moving at a decent pace I took a look behind me to see Nat guiding his hips only not giving him control of his own pleasure. I lead out a few mewls of pure pleasure. "mommy" my whimpered gripping onto the pillow for dear life "need you”
She let go of his hips leaning up to my ear "Do you need your clit played with" she rubbed circles on my back. Bucky's pace was great for his pleasure but I just needed more so I nodded as more tears made it's way down my cheeks "Can't even cum without mommy's help such a dumb little girl.”
Bucky quickend his pace and so did Nat and I was nearly seeing stars "Cum for me" she announced slapping Bucky's ass as if he was nothing more that a common whore "both". It didn't need more to make both of us cum with im pulling out to paint my back in his milk. 
I flipped to my back watching as Natasha and Bucky were caught up in a passionate kiss. His kisses trailed down her neck and chest at the same time pulling her red lace panties down her perfectly shaped legs. He nibbled on her skin paying extra attention to the small scar on her hip.
Natasha laid next to me on her back as I turned to my side stroking a few of her red hair, which were stuck to her sweaty forehead. “Kiss mommy bunny”
I kissed the desperate woman our tongue intertwined. She broke away letting out an almost pornographic moan as Bucky dove in to her wet center.
Our foreheads were seemingly stuck together as were lost in, probably the hottest, make out session I ever had. The air was humid filled with the sounds of Natasha’s wetness and the indecent sounds of our desperate sounds. “Fuck James” she groaned on my lips her hands twisted in my dark blonde locks. “Make Mommy cum” He kept his pace up flickering her clit with his tongue while penetrating her with two of his fingers. With a scream she came down from her high releasing over his chin and face.
***
"Thank you" You signed laying between the older Agents "But I think I'll stay with women for now" Natasha chuckled kissing your forehead "I wouldn't have given you free either way" she joked "And I wouldn't risk talking Nat's girl"
:)
Tags:
@terrormonster55 @marvelobsessed134 @crowswolffe
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valentine-cafe · 29 days ago
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CAN I ORDER AN AFFOGATO PLZZ/??????
vespasiano with a little cute housewife that cooks him yummy meals when he gets home from his missions when its time for dessert he goes straight to his wifey's sweet cunny!!!!!
˖⁺. ﹙ vampire lieutenant dilf  x housewife reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁
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. . . dessert's right here !! 🍒 :  vampiric ˖ lieutenant ˖ dilf character﹙ verse 781 vespsiano. ﹚
you're his wonderful housewife. and on the day he returns from deployments - he can't help but delve straight between your legs after dinner. 
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“diiooo, can’t believe I lived without this.”
dinner with this man is always eventful. teasing and playfulness galore. rambles on life, of missions — the details he knew you could stomach of course. banters, song that had you both abandoning your dishes and spinning into dance.
none on the list are where you are now. legs tossed over broad shoulders as an eager mouth laps at your weeping cunt. she cries for him like he’s still on deployment. needy girl.
“m’ favourite girl’s missed me, huh?” his slurs are sinful. sloppy. like a man starved. he still manages to pull away and deliver a smack to your quaking pussy. it splatters his hand in juices; so he dives right back in to put your wetness to better use.
“fuuckk, look at her,”
he’s always been a vocal one. talks you through it. says the most clit-throbbing things. he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice in any case.
speaking of your clit, his nose nudges it as always. like a small greeting. his long tongue pokes into your gummy walls and his hands brace themselves on your thighs. as if the chair arms aren’t doing a good enough job at keeping you nice and spread for him. it’s an excuse to have his hands on you. so that his large palms can squeeze at your flesh. shove. bend you further into the seat and make it easier for his face to bury between your legs like it’s his damn birthright.
“veesssppp.” you gulp a whine. your hands shoot into his dark hair. fingers graze the grey streaks. as if you need to keep him any closer to your cunt. you cast a glance across the dark tablecloth. to the large bowl of trifle now abandoned.
seems like your pussy’s much more of a delicacy.
what with the obscene noises that your darling vespasiano makes, how could you think anything else? the slurps, grunts, groans and muffled pants. as though the mere taste of you is enough to get him off. he couldn’t be blamed. months without your sweet honey on his tongue. he’s a needy man.
there is a slight burn on the slick flesh. his light facial hair’s the culprit, especially when he snatches an arm around your thigh. you’re quickly reminded of a sniper’s strength when his large hand clamps down. his head shoves closer - as if you were attempting to run from him. his mouth and lower chin smear in your juices while he grinds his mouth up against your slit. worship you on his tongue. lose himself with sucks to your clit.
and all the while? his eyes lock onto yours. heavy with lust. love. as though you are the moon itself. backlit with silvery lights streaming from the midnight window panes.
it’s not just stars in your vision, but the entire damn solar system. shivers rake through your body in bursts of fireworks. another orgasm squeezes out of your fluttering cunt and paints his lower face.
and yet his eyes look like they’re going to be the ones rolling back soon.
“thaaaat’s it, that’s my girl. gimme another huh? miss my girl jus’ as much.” he’s gulping down your juices. with a low, deep hum. the remainder drips down his chin, slides along his neck and stains his black collared shirt. he doesn’t care. it will be his new favourite clothing article.
the chair is hard on your back. you arch and whine into his wet, smothered kisses along your slit. there he is, making out with your pussy as though it’s your lips. should you be jealous?
“v-vesp - ah - c’ann- can’t - vesppiii - you're g-gonna break mee.”
he chuckles at your stringy whine. deep and guttural like the way he eats you out. his emerald hues look up through his lashes that bat at you. as though he is not making your legs squeeze around his head. as though your cunt’s not sobbing the same way you are.
all the bastard does is grin against your slit. “asked if I wanted dessert, bambolina. . . ‘m just enjoying it.”
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websterss · 6 months ago
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SEE YOU AT THE MEADOW — GUILDFORD DUDLEY
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REQUEST: yeah julie I’m gonna need you to continue writing fics for Guilford cause i’m pretty sure you’re the only one atm. so just a small request (reader is an ethian maid for the dudley’s so her and guilford just grow a bond over the years. she could be a cat and sometimes she’ll shift to lay in his lap to get pats or she’ll walk with him in the morning when he’s a horse to keep him company for a bit. just some good friends to lovers type vibe) I LOVE YOU JULIEEEEEE💗💗💗💗💗💗💗@raggedyoldwitch
WARNING(S): fluff
WORD COUNT: 2,002
PAIRING: Guildford Dudley x Ethian!Reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
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You were only a child when Lord Dudley’s second son made his first transformation. The news was short-lived when you and your mother were made aware of Lady Dudley’s death. You hadn’t received much news on the matter but whispers amongst the kitchen maids settled on Guildford being at the cause of it. You were just as grave as he was, especially when all the whole servants were dismissed besides Bertie.
Your mother begged to stay but Lord Dudley was persistent on having you leave them. it wasn’t until you transformed yourself into a cat that he was swayed.
He even thought that if you had so easily controlled when you could shift between forms then perhaps you’d be able to help his son accomplish the same.
You didn’t though…
It was only the beginning of your friendship. A little girl trying to help a boy, who thought he was cursed. His only contrast to his curse was that he fully believed for you to be given a gift. That got him a pebble thrown at his head.
”You cannot hit me. I’m of importance!” Little Guildford protested, rubbing at the spot he was sure to receive a nasty bump.
“Really. I did not know.” You proceed to throw him another rock.
“Stop that!”
“You are not even trying!” You sighed. "It's easy. Look!" You bent at the waist as your body morphed. Your human form no more as a brown and black tabby cat. Your fur is a mixture of colors, brown and black as though someone ran out of paint and used what was left on your animal form. You meowed at him once and sat down as him saying 'see'. A second had only passed when you shifted back.
“I am trying. Am I not!?” He scowled.
He began throwing rocks back at you. Some of them land pretty much in your exact area, others missing you by a long shot. But after a while, he became distracted by a passing squirrel. A pebble hit him straight on causing him to topple over onto the grass. Your eyes widened as you rushed over to him.
”Oh dear…quick what is your name?”
“You fool!”
���Okay, what is my name?”
He shoved you away. The shove causes you to fall on your bottom.
”You little bastard!" You exclaimed, before shoving him back twice as hard. He stumbled and fell back into a rose bush.
You two tumbled around before you were pinned by him. His breathing stilling as he watched your own eyes widen.
Your eyes widened in fright at the position you’d landed yourselves in. It felt like both of you were holding your breath as you watched each other’s expression. He’d never been this close to you before, and he found himself studying the way your eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight.
“Y/n, Guildford, supper is prepared!”
Both your eyes widened at the soft voice of your mother, but by the time you’d both looked around she was nowhere in sight. Guildford looked back down at you, his expression a mixture of nervousness and confusion as he tried to figure out what to do next. His father was expecting him for dinner but he didn’t want to leave you alone here in the forest. He opened his mouth to speak. But for some reason, he just couldn’t find the words.
“I’m…I’m never gonna get this.” He relented, sitting back to allow you up.
You sat up too, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You then looked as he sat down next to you, a look of helplessness on his face.
”…don’t worry.” You told him, noticing how dejected he looked. “We can try again the next day. Night will come again.”
He shook his head. “You repeat it over and over. It’s not working. It hasn’t worked and it will not! It’s an unavailing attempt. It’s no use in getting our hopes up!”
You reached out and lightly hit his arm. “Hey, what sort of defeatist attitude is that? There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, right?” He didn’t answer for a moment before he turned his head away from you. You didn’t notice the blush on his face.
You sigh. You watched him silently for a moment, not wanting to speak and say something that would upset him further. After a moment though you spoke up anyway.
”…you should head inside.” You said quietly. “Your father will have your head if you’re not there soon enough.”
“Let me see you in at least. Your mother will have my head if you’re not there, soon enough.” He offered his arm and you grasped it.
You linked your arm with his and together he slowly began walking you back to your cottage. He tried to ignore the way your hair swayed with each step you took or the way your scent that of the poppies and lilacs in his mother’s garden you worked hard to revive again. But it was a hard task for a young growing boy who’d only just begun to notice these things.
When you reached the entrance, you both halted in your tracks at the sound of a raised voice coming from inside.
“My heavens, look at the lot of you. Filthy!” Your mother scorns you as she reaches forward to pull a leaf out of your hair. “Go…I’ve run you a warm bath already. Then dressed and down for supper.” You let go of Guildford bidding him a bye with a small grin. Then ran up the stairs.
“Guildford…” She eyed then sucked her teeth grabbing hold of his face. “Oh, that girl. Look at you! It will bruise!”
“If it lessens your worries, I got her back!”
”She's supposed to be helping you, not damaging your face.” She shakes her head.
His cheeks burned a deep red in embarrassment as she continued to fret at him. “I’ll be fine…it’s just a bump and a mark.” He mumbled.
She took her hands away, still in a disapproving mood as she crossed her arms. Before a smile cracked at her expression. ”You like her, don’t you?” He looked at her, his expression wide as she began to tease him. ”That’s how it starts. Yes! First, it’s just a bump and a mark, then it’s a broken bone, then you’ll be bedridden!” She then scolded.
"Well then Y/n will join my demise…" He shrunk in on himself.
Your mother laughed at his remark. “I believe she could just be my lord. That girl could be a little nightmare if she tried.” She then ruffled his hair before guiding him towards the stairs. "Go, clean yourself up before the food grows cold."
"I'm not a lord." He called over his shoulder.
"You will be." She chimed shaking her head as she watched him ascend to the second floor.
-
"And when that April with his showers soote-" Guildford had stopped reciting the poem from the book in his hands. His smirk grew as your animal form perched itself on his lap. He reached forward to scratch behind your right ear. "Shall I continue or are you simply here to be a distraction?"
The feline version of you closed its eyes at the sensation of his fingers scratching at the sweet spot behind its ear. You released a little noise that sounded a lot like a purr making it clear that you were enjoying the attention. You then used your front paw to paw at the pages of the book, as if telling him to go on.
"Very well then..." He emits a low chuckle.
Your little furry self settled down in his lap and listened to the dulcet tones of his voice as he continued with the lines.
His reading was like music to your ears. He made the words soar off the page and flutter around the room. You hadn't seen Guildford this calm in ages, not since the death of his mother.
The two of you remain in the library for hours, him continuing to read aloud to the little animal on his lap. But it's not till you release a sneeze that has him stopping, has him anticipating what would come next. He sighs moving the book onto the side table as he sits back. He holds his breath as he sees ripples of black and orange begin to transform your cat-like self. It's not long till you release another sneeze in your human form.
"Bless…" Guildford clears his throat. He keeps his hands and arms on the armsrest.
You get your bearings. Your hair is messy from when you slept on your side in cat form. And of course, you're only in a night dress. You look at Guildford, and he looks back at you.
He attempts to avoid looking at your nightie, but he's only a man, after all.
You palm down your hair, in hopes it doesn't appear untamed.
He watches you do this, his eyes darting over your face and down your body. He knows he should look away, but he can't. Not when you looked like this. It was just like in the forest all those years ago as children, the feeling of nerves and the rapid heartbeat.
"Sleep well?" He reached up caressing some of your locks behind your ear.
You nod your head as if his soft touch has you forgetting how to speak.
He can see the blush on your cheeks and he knows he's the reason why it's there. "You're adorable." He says, almost as if on autopilot.
You roll your eyes as you climb off his lap. "Fool..."
He watches you cross the room before stopping you at the door. Your hand holding onto the handle.
He lets out a sigh, his leg beginning to bounce. “You do know it is very uncouth for you to be wearing that in my presence.”
"It's my nightwear, Guildford. What do you expect me to wear?" You respond, half turning your head to look at him. "Besides, it's not the most inappropriate attire you've worn around me."
His face turns a few shades darker red as his mind drifts to that exact memory. The image of you in his thin white undershirt, with nothing else on…it hadn't been that many years when he convinced you to go with him to a lake. You had shifted into your cat form by accident leaving you rendered embarrassed and well without clothes. He doesn’t want to be having that sort of thought right now. Not when you were standing a little less than an arms-length away from him, in your very night clothes.
"Thought so…" You muse with a chuckle. "Good night Guildford." You bid him goodbye opening the door to make your way out.
He almost lets you walk out. But his mind has other plans. Before he could think better of it he bolts up and pauses at the door. You're only a few feet from the door before his voice catches your attention.
"Where are you going?" He softly chuckles.
"To bed. Some of us sleep before dawn Guildford."
"Care for a stroll through the meadow again…keep me company?" He looked down before he met your bemused gaze again.
"I'll ask Bertie to pack us fresh carrots."
He quirks an eyebrow at your words, but he can see how you consider it. After a moment, you let out a sigh. "I would never miss it." You bid him with that adorable contagious grin and go to your quarters for the evening. "Night, my lord." You were heavy with the emphasis of his title. Guildford let his weight fall against the threshold, knowing he had the morrow to look forward to. 
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