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tinydefector · 2 months ago

Note

I do not know if you have ever thought about it, but listen! Last night I came up with a funny idea where Nadia and her friend decided to have fun and did a survey among bots. who do they think they would fuck that night and obviously almost all the bots have chosen our favorite ambassador. I would be interested to see the ambassador's reaction to this prank from Nadia😁良い一日を。💕

Pay back-Human affects

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: pin-up photoshoot, mentioned nudity, thirsting, unhinged behaviour.

Masterlist

Is it nearly 1am, yes, but I wanted to finish this piece because it was written with the last part, but I wanted it to split it for these requests.

Ask and request are open

________

The Ambassador sat with the three surfing what was essentially the cybertronian version of Twitter, Tumblr and Reddit all in one, laughing and reading the post.

"Ooo, this one's juicy!" Nadia crowed, shoving her datapad in the Ambassador's face, making them read through yet another raunchy post.

DockDawg66: "Primus, you guys, have you SEEN our Ambass? The way their hips sway when they walk...I just wanna toss 'em in my cab and take 'em for a spin, if you catch my drift! That soft little organic is begging for a spike the size of their torso. Bet I could make 'em sing."

The whole crew roared with laughter as the Ambassador snatched the pad, face heated in embarrassment, they were aware that some of the bots on ship had a thing for them but this, this was not what they had expected they literally had a full forum dedicated to them.

"Have you no shame, you pervs?" They huff out while pressing a hand to their forehead. Millian scanned down their notes with a smirk. " it seems you've got a bit of a fanclub, chief. Check out 'Ambass_Admirer' tag

'I just wanna rub my plating all over that smooth flesh...make 'em squeal.' They go on like that for paragraphs, it's a riot."

The Ambassador rolled their eyes good-naturedly as their motley human crew dissolved once more into giggles at the bots' oh-so-secret desires. Their jaw nearly drops as the crew scrolls through even more posts. "Fucking hell! How many of these are there!?!?"

"Seriously, it's like every other bot's got the hots for you!" Millian snorted, scrolling furiously. Nadia nudged them with a wicked smirk. "We should totally roast these pervs. Post looking for 'hot single bots' - bet their inboxes would explode!"

Millian cackled, adding fuel. "Ooh, or you could play hard to get! anyone feel like earning a private photoshoot?' Their circuits would short for sure!"

Ambassador's could feel the colour nearly draining from them with the continued bullying and jokes from the three. As for feeding such flames... Well, a little harmless teasing did feel justified, if they wanted to be fiends what was stopping the Liaison from being one back.

"Alright you hooligans, enough scheming for one night." They chuckled. That's when Taylor speaks up. " you know we could do a bit of a spicy photoshoot, kinda like only Fans make some money of horny bots," she hums while leaning over the Ambassador's shoulder. "Taylor!" The Ambassador sputtered with embarrassment and shock.

"Now there's an idea..." Millian mused, eyeing their boss. Money could go far in this ragtag outpost, and fleecing horny mechs of their shanix just felt poetic.

"Alright you lunatics, I will play along. But first-" They turned to Taylor with a stern look. "Ground rules. Nothing goes public without my say-so, got it? I don't need an invasion of metal pervs in my room!"

They three nearly squeal in delight over the go ahead. "So how far are we going to go with this boss, just some light stuff like you laying on a bed or what?" Millian asked. The three are already scheming ways to do decent photos.

"Oh, oh I have a camera somewhere"

"So... I may have been able to talk One First aid into giving me Ratchet's old servos from before we ended up on ship. Don't ask how" one of the others stated.

The Ambassador rubbed their temples, already regretting this scheme but far too amused to back out now.

"Alright, you loons - nothing explicit, got it? I'm not getting Naked for anyone, Classy pin-up style shots fine, some saucy photos sure but that only." They start laying out ground rules for the three,despite being their boss, they were also friends and they did want to enjoy some letting loose. "And I suppose props could...add a dash of naughty flair, but if we are doing this you guys act professional, don't make weird comments."

As the crew dove into planning, they shook their heads fondly. "We'll start simple - you lounging in 'sexy' clothes, maybe leaning on those servos. Gauge how you feel, then amp it up gradually if you feel comfortable."

"And I get 30% of all earnings!" The Liaison called after them as they scramble to grab what they can for the shoot.

Both Millian and Taylor carted in the servos on a trolley, the ambassador was almost impressed but decided to keep their questions to themself, not really wanting to know how they got ahold of severed cybertronian hands. The three are trying to figure out where to start and what the ambassador should wear.

"I swear if Kyle, David or Daniel find out about this I'm putting all three of you on cleaning duty for forever." The Ambassador threatens them, hands on hips, eyeing the bustling preparations with mingled amusement and trepidation. What had they unleashed upon this ship?

"Boss, take a look, scored this silky robe that's sure to drive 'em wild!" Nadia called, holding up the item in question with a smirk.

Millian hauled over a plush bed adorned with soft blankets and pillows from over in the corner Of their room. "Lay back here while Taylor and I do a test shoot, just want to try and set up lightly."

They move to lay on the bed, trying to get comfortable and move things until they feel right. Millian snaps a few pics before the Liaison stands back up looking at the box of clothing.

Nadia and Taylor begin moving the Servos trying to get them set up as close to the bed as possible. “I'm so glad these are holo on the inside, they are Heavy enough” Taylor huffs out and the move and curl the digits.

The Ambassador looks at the different clothing and fabrics with a raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know where you guys got all of this?" They ask. The three just give mischievous looks.

They let out a sigh. "We will start off with something like this, then you lot can play dress ups with me, Christ never knew you three were this much of a nightmare"

"Alright you troublemakers, out with you while I change," they chide their over-eager crew, shooing them from the room with a laugh. Once alone, they unfurl the silky robe reverently, resting it on the bed before peeling off their uniform. Neatly piling it together. They rummage through the other clothing grabbing out a rather nice looking set of underwear before dragging luxurious sheen robe over their shoulders.

They move over to Millian's set before calling out to them. "I'm changed, you can come back in" they call out. Millian's head popped in, eyes widening at the vision before them. "Boss, you clean up nice!" They let out a low whistle.

The liaison's eyes trace over the large Servos on the ground with a pile of pillows and blankets set between them. "So how are we doing this?" They ask. Nadia and Taylor piled in behind, stopping in their tracks at the enticing sight. The Ambassador lounged lazily amid plush bedding, silhouetted seductively against the soft lights. Those mighty metal servos loomed ominously close.

Taylor shook off her daze first. "Lay back and get comfy. We'll start with some innocent stuff - just look smouldering while you toy with the fabric." With that the three moved around getting lights set so they had the height for the photos. “I'm starting to get suspicious on why you guys have all of this equipment in here Millian.” They call out only for them to wave the accusation off. “Eh I do photos for Nadia on occasions”

"Alright, lay back against those pillows- yeah, just like that. Now arch your back a little and tilt your chin up," Nadia instructed eagerly, moving a few pillows into a good position, Ambassador's gaze up with eyes half lidded. “I feel so stupid doing this!” They call out which makes the others laugh. “Ahh don't worry, last time Nadia did a shoot she nearly lost the bikini top she was wearing because it got caught. Spend ten minutes trying to not have to cut it off” Taylor informed.

“Yea I didn't want to wreck one of my favourites!”

Millian gave a low whistle. "You're doing great, I promise the more you laugh the less awkward it is. Now trail one hand slowly down your chest while the other grips the robe's lapel." Taylor surveyed their work, making subtle adjustments here and there.

"You two- move that big metal hand like it's gently cupping their waist." The crew buzzed around their model putting touches in place. Each minute adjustment drew out as they chatted away about random stuff while doing the photos, it helped them not feel so awkward about doing the photos.

"Alright, I think we've got our money shot," Millian declared at last, snapping one final smouldering image. The shutter clicked rapidly as they tested angles, coaxing out new provocative poses little by little. They stand back up, wrapping the robe around themself as they walk over to Millian. " Can I see the photos? They were rather excited, this wasn't something they normally did, but the three were actually rather professional with it.

The group looked at the photos as Millian slowly flicked through the collection showing off the collection along with some of the more silly ones they took to help ease the tension. The silky robe clung to curves in all the right places, every inch of exposed flesh looked as if it glowed. Bedroom eyes beckoned from heavy lids, lips parted as if panting from passion's heights recently scaled. One hand grasped the large metal hand.

"Holy shit, you really got me good!" They breathed, awed by photos that the three had helped craft. Nadia gave a devilish grin. "Just wait till the boys get an eyeful. They won't know whether to rub one out or combust on the spot!"

Laughter spilled forth from them as Millian begins transferring them over to their data pad. “this was fun, I can see why you enjoy doing it Nadia, I haven't felt this..”

“Beautiful?”

“handsome?”

"Desirable?”

The three state one after another which gets a head shake from the Liaison. “Yes, “ They admit.

"Also how exactly are we going to be posting these photos?" Inquiry, the were feeling rather daring now and wanted to have input on the posting.

They ushered the others close, datapad in hand. "Here's what we'll do- I've got an anonymous account on one of those seedy Commlink forums the bots love. You know, the one where they all drool over flesh?"

Nadia snorted. "Oh yeah, the 'Human Fucker' board. Classy place."

Millian ignored her, pulling up the photos. "I'll post just one crop out whatever you want for your comfort - the money shot where your hand is gripping that servo. Caption will be 'Look who I've got...' nothing else."

“don't crop it post the full thing, I like it and well they want to play with fire this is what happens” the Ambassador hums which makes Taylor cackled, rubbing her hands together. "Mark my words, those mechs will be tripping over themselves trying to claim the 'lucky bot' title," Millian promised gleefully.

Commlink forum: human fucker.

Ambass_Admirer pin.

Tin_Bin25: 'Look who I've got.'

a photo of a bots servos cupped partly around a human in a Satin robe looking rather Ravished, smiling up while their robe is hanging off their shoulder showing off a rather scandalous amount of skin.

Overcharger69: Holy frag is that the Ambass? Lucky slagger, frag what a fine piece!!!

T-Wrexz: No way!. Someone Fragging did it. They got with a Fleshie!

Rev-Rid3: some lucky mech sampled fleshy friction and got the dream...

Flyboi69: : FRAG THIS WHO CARES WHO FRAGGED THEM I JUST WANNA KNOW IF THEY'RE AS SOFT AS THEY LOOK!!!!

ScienceSorcerer: My oh my, what scandalous treasures, do share more with the class! For historical and scientific purposes, of course.

Oiler69: No way, you can't just Post that! Do you have more, Post em up already, need more Proof!

_Heavyhaul: Hey, hey, keep it in your panel's mechs. That photo wasn't released with their consent, it's not cool.

Tin_Bin25: Here is another.

It's a new photo showing the Ambassador lying back against pillows in a low cut silk robe, one hand trailing lazily across their collar while the other grips a metal servo their face pressed against one of the digits as they kiss it, gazing at the camera with hooded eyes

How's that for proof, sceptic? I've got permission for their personal photoshoot, even let me post without hiding their face. Bet your spikes would glitch seeing them like this in person.

Scope_ridge: *venting noises* Frag me sideways, they look good enough to eat! This is officially the best solar cycle ever.

Bar-rizzla: Why, they positively glow with sensuality! One can only imagine the debauchery that inspired such provocative portraits.

StarFielder: Seriously, does anyone have any idea who the lucky mech was? Gotta be someone important...

WPHAS-violation: my Shanix is on it being an officer right? Bet it was Magnus!, rather tasteful compared to the stuff I make.

Con_Spiracy: got me wonderin' - think any other bots have been sampling alien delights?

SunRunner: Whoa, hold up- you've got a whole collection? Heater's firing up over here! *fans self jokingly*

Pimptheride: Hey mech, wanna pass those images over? How much you asking for?

Bar-rizzla: I've got enough engex to trade for a peek! C'mon Tin, help a bot out with his late night activities...

_________

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fullsandwichmiracle · 3 months ago

Text

Eavesdropping

Paring: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Y/N was sitting with her friend at a lively party, the room buzzing with conversation and laughter. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned in close, sharing some intimate details about her fantasies involving Joost.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, weed, smut, PnV, unprotected, Joost being a bit rough, rpf

Word count: 3k+

Sorry for the delay in posting—work and school have kept me busy. But here’s a new one inspired by today's Reading Reddit Stories. I am working on some request, so more is coming.

The house was alive with music, laughter, and the buzz of a summer party in full swing. People moved from room to room, drinks in hand, chatting, dancing, and letting loose. Joost had been floating around, engaging in small talk and enjoying the atmosphere, but after a while, he needed a break from the noise. The house was big, with plenty of rooms that offered a quiet escape. He slipped into a side room, which looked like a small study, hoping to find a moment of peace.

The study was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on the desk in the corner. Joost shut the door behind him, but it didn’t latch completely, leaving it slightly ajar. He sank into the leather chair by the window, the faint hum of the party outside muffled by the walls. He let out a sigh and opened the window, took out and lit a joint, finally relaxing as he let the distant music fade into the background.

But soon, voices from the hallway outside caught his attention. They were familiar—Y/N and Liz, giggling and tipsy from a night of fun. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, but when he heard his name mentioned, his ears perked up.

"I’m telling you, Liz," Y/N said, her voice laced with that playful edge she got after a few drinks. "If Joost knew what I really wanted from him… well, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to look at me the same way again."

Joost’s heart skipped a beat. He sat up a little straighter, suddenly very interested in what was being said. He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Oh, do tell!" Liz encouraged, her voice bubbly with excitement. "What kind of dirty little thoughts have you been hiding?"

Y/N let out a low, almost wicked laugh. "You know, the kind where he’s not just the sweet, nice guy everyone thinks he is. I keep imagining what it’d be like if he just… snapped, you know? Like, I want him to lose all that control and just take me wherever we are. Like, right here at this party, against a wall, or maybe even on the floor… not caring who’s around or who might hear us."

Joost felt a shock of electricity run through him. Her words were so unexpected, so raw and vivid, that they hit him like a truck. He shifted in his seat, the leather creaking slightly under him. The idea of Y/N—fun, witty, and someone he had secretly admired—fantasizing about him like that was enough to make his head spin.

Liz gasped, then let out a laugh that was almost scandalized. "Y/N! I didn’t know you had it in you! That’s… wow, okay, that’s hot. But honestly, I think he’d be down for it if he knew."

Y/N snorted and laughed. "Yeah, sure. Like I’m just going to walk up to him and tell him I fantasize about him choking me while he's fucking me senseless."

Joost’s heart was pounding in his chest, the air around him suddenly feeling too warm. Before he could fully process what he was doing, he walked up to the door frame to be able to hear the conversation more clearly, causing the door to creak loudly.

Both Y/N and Liz fell silent. Liz, always the sharp one, noticed the slightly ajar door immediately. Her eyes widened as she nudged Y/N, pointing toward the study. "Oh my god, Y/N…"

Y/N turned slowly, her heart dropping to her stomach as she saw the door, and through the small crack, Joost’s unmistakable silhouette. Her face flushed a deep red as she realized he must have heard everything. Liz was biting her lip, trying not to burst out laughing, her eyes darting between Joost and Y/N, reveling in the unfolding drama.

Joost stepped into the doorway, his face caught somewhere between a grin and something darker, more intense. His eyes locked onto Y/N’s, a glint of mischief playing in them. "So," he started, his voice low and teasing, "I couldn’t help but overhear something about losing control and taking you… right here?"

Y/N’s mouth went dry, her usual quick wit abandoning her as she stared at him, wide-eyed. "I… I was just joking around," she stammered, though the words didn’t carry much conviction. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, the alcohol in her system making her feel even more vulnerable under his gaze.

Joost took a slow, deliberate step closer, the air between them thick with tension. "Were you?" he asked, his voice a seductive murmur that made her shiver. "Because if that’s really what you want, I’m more than willing to make it happen."

Liz, barely able to contain herself, let out a laugh that she quickly tried to stifle. "Oh my god, you guys," she giggled, taking a step back. "I’m just gonna… leave you two to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do." With a playful wink, she spun around and disappeared into the throng of partygoers, leaving Joost and Y/N alone.

Y/N couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol, the heat of the moment, or the way Joost was looking at her with those intense, dark eyes, but she felt herself leaning into the tension rather than shying away from it. "I didn’t think you’d actually… want to," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joost was standing so close now that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I’ve wanted to for a long time," he confessed, his voice rough with desire. "But now that I know what you’ve been thinking… I don’t think I can hold back."

Y/N’s breath hitched, and before she could second-guess herself, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to her level. "Then don’t," she whispered against his lips.

That was all the encouragement Joost needed. With a low growl, he crushed his lips to hers, the kiss hungry and demanding, all the pent-up tension between them finally exploding. His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips as he pushed her back against the wall, the bass of the music vibrating through them both.

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The party, the world outside that moment faded into nothing as they lost themselves in each other. Joost’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me," he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with need. "Tell me what else you’ve been imagining."

Y/N gasped as his teeth grazed her collarbone, her body arching against him. "I’ve been thinking… about how you’d feel inside me," she confessed breathlessly. "Right here… right now… I want you, Joost. I want you to fuck me so hard that everyone at this party knows exactly what we’re doing."

Joost let out a low, primal sound, a dark grin spreading across his face as he lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapping around his waist. "Then let’s make it a party they won’t forget," he growled, his hands sliding under her dress as he pressed her firmly against the wall.

The heat between them was scorching, their breath mingling as they kissed again, harder, more desperate. The music pulsed in the background, but all Y/N could hear was the rush of blood in her ears, all she could feel was Joost’s hands on her, his body pressed so tightly against hers.

Joost’s mouth was on her ear now, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "I want to hear you," he commanded, his hand slipping under her panties. "I want to hear you moan my name."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her head falling back against the wall as she felt his fingers slide inside her. "Joost," she whimpered, her voice high and needy, exactly what he wanted to hear.

He growled in response, his lips finding hers again as he began to move his fingers, his pace relentless. Y/N’s body trembled, her moans growing louder as the pleasure built, their surroundings fading completely into oblivion as they lost themselves in each other.

Outside the room, the party continued, oblivious to the wild, electric scene unfolding just behind the study’s closed door. But neither Joost nor Y/N cared. They were lost in the moment, giving in to the dark, burning desire that had finally come to light, and there was no going back.

Y/N’s senses were overwhelmed as Joost’s touch sent shockwaves through her body. The room around them seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the music outside, but it felt distant, secondary to the intense connection between them. Her back pressed against the wall, she could feel every movement he made, the heat of his body burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

Joost’s lips were relentless, trailing fiery kisses along her neck, his stubble scraping against her skin in a way that made her shiver with anticipation. He wasn’t just kissing her; he was claiming her, marking her as his in a way that felt primal and raw. His hand slipped further down, gripping her thigh as he lifted her leg higher around his waist, opening her up to him even more.

"God, Y/N," Joost breathed against her skin, his voice rough with need. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, how many nights I’ve thought about what it would be like to have you like this."

His confession sent a thrill through her, knowing that he had been harboring the same desires she had tried to push down for so long. "Then don’t stop," she urged, her voice breathy and desperate. "Show me, Joost."

Joost’s eyes darkened, a fierce determination taking over as he reached down, his fingers deftly working to free himself from the constraints of his jeans. The air between them was thick with tension, every second stretched out as he positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race.

"Tell me how much you want this," Joost demanded, his voice low and commanding. "I want to hear you say it."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. "I want it, Joost," she whispered, her voice trembling with raw need. "I want you to fuck me right here, right now. I need you."

With a growl of satisfaction, Joost thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion. The suddenness of it drew a gasp from Y/N’s lips, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his desire. He was everywhere—inside her, around her—his presence consuming every part of her being.

Joost set a punishing rhythm, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body, the sound of skin against skin filling the small room. Y/N’s moans grew louder, uninhibited, as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her. She didn’t care who might hear them, didn’t care about anything except the way Joost made her feel like she was on fire, like she was unraveling beneath him.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer, deeper, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. "You feel so fucking good," Joost groaned, his voice rough and filled with raw hunger. "I’m not going to stop until I hear you scream my name."

Y/N’s head fell back against the wall, her mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as Joost’s words drove her further to the brink. The tension inside her tightened with every thrust, every touch, building up to a nearly unbearable intensity. Joost’s hand moved to her neck, applying a firm, possessive pressure that sent shivers through her body.

"Joost," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure became too much to bear. "I’m… I’m so close…"

Joost let out a deep growl, his movements becoming more urgent, his grip on her tightening as he pushed Y/N closer to the edge. "Come for me, Y/N," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come around me."

Those words sent her over the edge. Y/N's body arched against him as her climax tore through her, a cry of pure ecstasy escaping her lips as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her, leaving her breathless and trembling in his arms.

But Joost wasn't finished. His grip tightened as he thrust deeper, his breath hot against her neck. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Joost’s words hung in the air, their intensity reigniting the fire between them. Her body was still quivering from the overwhelming orgasm that had just crashed through her, but the dark, insatiable hunger in Joost’s eyes told her he wasn’t even close to being done.

Without warning, Joost tightened his grip on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh with a bruising force that sent a jolt of anticipation through her. He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her, his gaze burning with a raw, primal desire that made her heart race. There was no tenderness in his touch now, only a ruthless determination to claim every part of her.

“You think you’ve had enough?” Joost’s voice was a dark, growling rasp, filled with unrestrained hunger. “I’m not stopping until every last person at this party hears you scream my name.”

Before Y/N could respond, Joost captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, his lips punishing and unyielding as he devoured her. There was no gentleness, only the desperate, violent need to dominate, to possess her completely. His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back as he ravaged her mouth, his teeth grazing her bottom lip with enough force to make her gasp.

His hips slammed into hers with brutal force, each thrust deep and merciless, driving her against the wall with a rhythm that was anything but slow. Y/N’s nails dug into his back, leaving angry red welts as she clung to him, overwhelmed by the intensity. The pain only fueled her desire, her body arching into him as she lost herself in the raw, animalistic need he unleashed in her.

The room around them was filled with the harsh sounds of their coupling—her gasps and moans, his growls of satisfaction, the sharp slap of skin against skin as Joost pounded into her with unrelenting force. The tension between them tightened, coiling like a spring ready to snap as Joost drove her closer and closer to the edge.

“Joost…” Y/N’s voice was breathless, trembling with a mix of exhaustion and desperate need, but before she could finish, Joost silenced her with another punishing kiss, his tongue invading her mouth with a ferocity that left her dizzy.

“I’m not stopping until I know you can’t take any more,” he growled against her lips, his pace quickening, his grip on her hips so tight she knew she’d wear his marks for days.

She was completely at his mercy, her body a live wire of sensation as he drove her toward another explosive climax.

Y/N could feel the tension in her body reaching a breaking point, every muscle coiled tight as Joost’s thrusts became even more brutal, more demanding. And then, with a final, devastating thrust, Y/N shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her with a violence that left her screaming his name.

Joost’s own release was swift and fierce, a guttural growl tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep inside her, the intensity of their shared climax leaving them both trembling, breathless, and utterly spent.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, bodies entwined, their hearts pounding in sync as they rode the waves of their shared ecstasy. Joost held her close, his forehead resting against hers as they fought to catch their breath, the air between them thick with the remnants of their desire.

Finally, Joost pulled back, his eyes still dark and intense as they locked onto Y/N’s. A slow, satisfied smile curled his lips, his voice hoarse and rough as he murmured, “Anything like you imagine?”

Y/N returned his smile, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their raw, intense connection. “Even better,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, her touch gentle in contrast to the ferocity of what they’d just shared.

Joost chuckled darkly, pressing a rough kiss to her forehead before he slowly lowered her back to the ground, his hands lingering on her waist as if reluctant to let her go.

They stayed like that for a moment, lost in the intimacy of the aftermath, the sounds of the party still faint in the background but no longer a part of their world. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, the tension that had been building between them for so long finally released.

But as the reality of what had just happened began to settle in, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound a mix of relief and disbelief. "I can’t believe we just did that," she said, her voice still breathless, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

Joost grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nuzzled her neck. "Believe it," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. "And just so you know, this isn’t a one-time thing. Now that I know what you want, I’m going to make sure you get it… again and again."

Y/N shivered at the promise in his voice, her body already responding to the idea of more, of Joost taking her in every way she had ever fantasized about. "Ohh please do," she whispered back, her lips finding his in a slow, lingering kiss that held the promise of everything that was to come.

As they finally untangled themselves, the party outside still raging on, they knew that everything had changed between them. They had crossed a line, broken through the barriers that had kept them apart for so long, and now there was no going back.

And neither of them wanted to.

#joost fanfic #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein imagine #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joost smut #joost x reader #rpf

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lizdive · 4 months ago

Note

Sunday who finds out his older sibling is a trailblazer and later gets to hang out with them more once he joins the Astral Express (^-^)

and the nameless sunday series continues !! i <3 all the older sibling requests people are sending KEEP EM COMING GUYS 🗣️🔥💯‼️ i did this in 90% head canon format because I couldn’t properly brain storm a good fic-esque formatted beginning and I have a lot of ideas for this,,, i’m sosososo sorry,,,, thank yew for the request :3 if you are not satisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it !! <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "older sibling" used to refer to reader ,, reader as an older sibling ,, platonic relationships ,, this isn’t proofread ,, ignore typos

⭑ I’d like to start this by saying that childhood was probably not the best part of your life. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t the best part of your life story. You had to fend for yourself and your siblings before Gopher Wood came in and adopted you three, and even then he would probably try to manipulate you into his perfect pawn by using your siblings against you.

⭑ For a while you just.. went with it because while you had a dream, you didn’t know how to accomplish it unlike Robin. And so, you and SUNDAY, the perfect dreamless children that you both were, were perfect for Gopher Wood to manipulate and isolate.

⭑ But since you were older and had a bit more life experience, you knew not to trust his every word. You tried to help SUNDAY, you really did, but you also needed to help yourself. There is definitely some older sibling guilt in this.

⭑ It wasn’t until you heard of the Astral Express that you finally realized how to accomplish your dream. Join the express and finally be able to see the cosmos while escaping the grasp of Gopher Wood. To abandon the path of harmony and order and join the trailblaze — that was what you wanted.

⭑ How you managed to join is up to your interpretation.

⭑ You told SUNDAY you were going to accomplish your dream before you left, and you offered him to join you — you almost begged him to join. But he stood firm in his decision to stay and wished you well on your journeys. You knew you couldn’t force him, and so off you were onto the Astral Express without him knowing the means of how you would accomplish your dream.

⭑ You kept in touch with SUNDAY and Robin of course, and you visited Penacony every chance you got. Watching your little brother grow up from afar hurt a bit, and as he matured with the mindset that was forced upon him, you wished you had taken his place. But SUNDAY is a man of his word, and you know the promise he made to you and Robin will not be broken so easily.

⭑ But you always supported him, because at the end of the day he was your little brother. You may or may not have a soft spot for him.

⭑ SUNDAY is smart and perceptive, so when you showed up at the same time the Astral Express did during the Penacony quest, he quickly connected the dots. So that’s how you did it — hopping from planet to planet so easily without struggle and without running out of money.

⭑ Initially, he’s a bit hurt you never told him and you kept such a secret for so long, and he’ll give you silent treatment for some time until you apologize with sweets and a looonggg explanation with detail. It’s like those reddit stories.

⭑ The halovian is a bit protective of his older sibling, so it’s no surprise he began asking you if they were treating you well and that if you ever want to leave them but continue traveling he can give you all the credits need and more.

⭑ He does not question you on switching paths. He would never question his older sibling who has doted on him and cared for him and Robin and who he loves so so much. Also he knows he isn’t innocent, either.

⭑ He appreciates the offer of him joining, but he would never do that. As head of the oak family, he needs to fulfill his duties.

⭑ When Robin’s 'death' occurs, SUNDAY finds himself swarmed with horrible what-ifs. No longer will you be with your Astral Express friends during your stay. Please just stay close with him, he can’t bear the thought of losing you, too.

⭑ And when the Charmony Festival comes and he is forced to fight against you, he tries to take the easy route. Why fight you when you can be put in the order’s dream once more? He knows you and your weakness. He can lull you into slumber once more.

⭑ Please fall for it… he just.. he doesn’t want to hurt his family. If you’re a support unit during it all like Robin, please stay far away from the fight.. and most importantly, please don’t hate him.

⭑ During his fall from grace, he expects a gaze of hatred from you. He who has hurt your team and put you all through an endless amount of hardships. He who has deceived not only the crew but you as well. You, who has been nothing but supportive of him.

⭑ But your embrace that follows Robin’s makes him feel all the more horrible. Because you have forgiven him despite him not deserving such a blessing.

"I… think I’ll take you up on that offer…" SUNDAY’s voice is faint as he looks down in embarrassment and shame. His wings subconsciously hide his lower face and his gaze is downcast. For once, he is not the elegant and mysterious SUNDAY that the world knows him as.

Right now, he is SUNDAY, your little brother that you used to share your books with and show him all the various planets you’d visit one day. He is SUNDAY, your little brother who would do the most just to impress you.

March wants to protest, and so does the Trailblazer. But before they can speak, Himeko holds up a hand to keep them silent. This is not their decision to make, it’s yours. Because Himeko knew that you offered him to join many times and she was okay with it — Pompom, too.

Penacony needs him no more. He serves no purpose other than to live now. To exist and find the path he wishes to tread. And if he has decided that the trailblaze is that path, then who are you to deny him of his wish? The one wish that was his.

A step, and then another. You take his gloved hands into yours. He flinches, hesitantly looking at you. Your gaze is tender and welcoming. "You’ll have a lot of fun, I promise."

⭑ I’ve said this in my other nameless SUNDAY posts: The crew would not want to interact to him too much. But I think in this scenario Himeko would be more open, and the crew would be more understanding of why you’re so kind and gentle with him.

⭑ Sleepovers!! SUNDAY will room with you for the first few months nights. He had nightmares of what happened to Robin and he’s very anxious so you being in the same room as him is very comforting. May sleep in the same bed as you, too, if the nightmares get too bad.

⭑ Honestly if you don’t mind this arrangement he’ll probably room with you forever. It doesn’t inconvenience him too much. It all just depends on you.

⭑ Your solo vacations have become duo vacations. He’ll rarely ask you directly to join but he will hint at it. He understands if you don’t want to take him, though.

⭑ If you do, however, take him, it’ll be a very fun time! SUNDAY will make a list of activities so the trip seems much more organized which then leads to less stress and you’ll be able to do everything you want and more!

⭑ Trust that 99% of your time on the Express will be spent with SUNDAY. So much time missed out during childhood,, doing 'childish' activities with SUNDAY !! Coloring with crayons, messing around with stuffies, etc. would be very fun, especially playing with stuffies and dolls because he takes his roles 100% seriously.

⭑ Likes being held in your arms. Not in a weird way, he just likes feeling like a kid again when you used to hold him whenever he’d get upset. Whether it’s cuddling or hugging, SUNDAY just really likes to be held in his older sibling’s embrace and be comforted.

⭑ Likes playing board games with you. Also collects them.

#🪽 ☆ LIZDIVE #ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S WRITING !!#ᡣ𐭩 — ROBIN’S STARS !!#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x reader #platonic relationships

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spiteless-xo · 1 year ago

Note

hiii for the nsfw prompts, can i request 274 + 72 with geto pleaseee? or gojo… whichever you like more bc i can’t decide 😫 it just sounds kinda funny and they’re both silly geese to me HELSODSK

eek, geto??? ok, i will try 🥺 i hope i do my baby justice. (also sorry but technically nobody says the second prompt, but geto thinks it 🙈)

my responses to these prompts keep getting longer and longer lmao sorry to everyone to requested early on and got little baby drabbles in response!!

list of prompts

╰┈➤ smut prompts - 72 & 274. “That is kinky even by my standards…” “I had no idea you were into this kind of thing”

ft. geto/fem!reader cw. unedited, explicit sexual content (restraints, oral, facesitting, ass eating, multiple orgasms), explicit language. 1,645 words.

being with geto is intimidating -- he's older than you, more experienced than you, and more confident than you.

and it doesn't help that gojo is always reminding you of these facts every time the two of you are alone together.

"suguru's last girlfriend was a gymnast," gojo had told you in a quiet, conspiratorial whisper. "you know what that means, don't you?"

no, you don't.

so you spent the night learning different ways to please him. you searched threads on reddit, found sex-positive blogs on google, and you even watched a few videos online. by the next day, you knew what you wanted to try with geto -- how to impress him.

"handcuffs?" geto asks, looking over at you from his seat on the couch. his lip twitches in amusement. "wow, that's kinky even by my standards," he says sarcastically.

you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you childishly pout. "don't make fun of me."

"i'm not, princess," he purrs, leaning toward you to wrap his arms around your waist. he pulls you into his lap and smiles up at you as he relaxes back in his seat. "you know you don't have to do anything special to make me want you -- just being you is enough."

"but your last girlfriend was a gymnast."

"what? were you talking with satoru?"

geto sighs, cupping your face with one hand while he rubs at the crease between your brows with the thumb of his other, smoothing it down until your face relaxes from your frown. "we can try handcuffs," he says softly, "whatever you want."

"good, because i already bought them," you admit, feeling your face burn in embarrassment.

"my, you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he purrs, running his tongue along his lower lip as his eyes narrow.

you wrap your thighs around his waist and geto lifts you up from the couch, cradling your ass in his hands as he walks the two of you into your bedroom.

"in here?" he asks, standing in the doorway, and you nod excitedly.

"i put them in the nightstand."

he walks you toward your bed, crawling along it on his knees, before lowering you down onto your back with your head amongst the pillows. he presses a soft kiss to your lips before moving aside, pulling open your beside drawer and pulling out a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs.

geto send you a look.

"they were the only ones they had in stock," you admit, scrunching your nose in embarrassment as geto chuckles.

he returns to his place between your thighs, grabbing both of your wrists and dragging them up above your head. he pins them down to the pillows in one of his large hands, while the other fits them around the bars of your headboard.

"wait, no!" you say quickly and he freezes immediately.

he looks down at you, concerned, and loosens his grip on your wrists so you can squirm out of his grasp. "are we moving too fast?" he asks, worry evident in his tone.

"i want to use them on you, suguru."

his eyebrows jerk up in surprise and he blinks down at you, processing what you've just said to him until a sly smile grows across his face. "full of surprises," he purrs, biting back a grin as he lets you roll him over onto his back with your palm pressed on his chest.

you straddle his hips, grabbing both of his wrists with your hands, and lifting them up above his head -- just like he did with you. he watches you intently as you fiddle with the handcuffs, locking first his right hand, then his left, before sitting back to admire your handiwork.

geto looks up at his hands, tugging gently against the restraints to test their strength before looking back down at you. "i could break out of these pretty easily."

"yeah, but don't, ok?" you pout.

you climb off from geto's lap and onto the floor, standing off the side of the bed while he looks over at you curiously. he watches you hook your fingers into your pants, sliding them down off of your thighs along with your underwear, and geto's cock throbs against his leg at the sight.

he can't help himself from squirming on the bed as he watches you settle next to him, kneeling next to his chest as you look down at him curiously. before he can ask, you swing your leg over his head until your knee is pressed into the mattress next to his opposite arm.

pressing your palms against his chest, you shift your hips back until your pussy is hovering over his mouth and geto's eyes widen in delight.

"oh," he says, voice deep and husky. "this is what you want."

he tugs against the handcuffs, wanting to grab and a handful of your ass and pull you down against his face, but he's met with resistance. he makes a small grunt of displeasure, but he licks his lips and lifts his head slightly off the pillow, instead.

"come here -- take a seat," he demands.

"let me know if i'm hurting you," you say, and there's a small quiver to your voice that reveals your hesitance -- but it just makes geto's cock throb painfully against the confines of his pants.

"you won't hurt me, princess," he assures, breathing harder now that he can see the slick building on the lips of your cunt. "come down here, let me taste you."

with a shuddering breath, you lower your hips down onto geto's face, instantly feeling the warmth of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue flattens along your slit. you experimentally rock your hips against his face -- just like you saw in the video from last night-- and let out a stuttered cry when you feel his tongue against your clit.

pressing your palms against his chest, you let your eyes fall shut, grinding down on his mouth until each rock of your hips sends jolts of electricity shooting up your spine. this feels good -- better than you thought it would -- and you let your head hang back over your shoulders as you lose yourself from the feeling.

your slick is sweet and slippery against his tongue. he wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you tighter against his face -- until he can't even fucking breathe -- he wants to be suffocated by you. his hips buck needily into the open air -- he can't help himself.

he groans into your pussy when you press down a little harder and his eyes roll back into his head. all he can taste is you, all he can see is you, all he's ever wanted is you -- and here you are, grinding your pretty little cunt against his face and gripping tight fists around the fabric of his shirt.

your legs start to tremble slightly on either side of his head and he knows you're close. you rock harder -- more desperately -- against his tongue until your moans fade into stuttered gasps of pleasure and geto feels your cunt pulsing around his tongue.

his mouth is flooded with the taste of you as you cum, and he fights against the restraints to reach down and just grab you, but the handcuffs are proving to be stronger than he had expected.

you lift your hands from his chest, reaching back behind you to grab your ass as you gently spread yourself open. geto's eyes widen in surprise as your hips shift just slightly forward until his tongue flicks against your small, puckered hole.

his cock leaks precum from the tip, leaving a sticky mess on his thigh as he gently kisses your asshole -- he had no idea you were into this!

from above him, he hears you whimpering from the feeling of his lips against you. he kisses you again and again, each time pressing his tongue a little harder against your hole until it finally slips past the tight ring.

"fuck -- suguru," you whimper, pressing harder against his face as geto licks into your ass.

god, he wants to grab you so hard right now. he tugs harder against the handcuffs, the metal digging into the skin on his wrists as he fights against him.

either you don't care or you don't realize geto's frustration as he groans into your skin, as you keep rocking against his face feverishly as he buries his tongue in your ass.

you slide a hand across your hips to rub quick, small circles into your clit and geto is fully fucking the air, now. he can't help himself -- he needs you to touch him -- why won't you touch him? his cock is thick and desperate against his thigh and he just needs something.

"sugu --" you whine, and he can feel your cunt twitching against his chin, coating him in slick. "i'm gonna cum -- please."

geto groans into your skin, fucking you with his tongue and burying his face between the globes of your ass as you touch yourself.

with a whimpering cry, you cum for the second time against his face. your thighs shake and you fall forward onto his body, hands bracing yourself on his chest as you keep rocking against his mouth. geto groans, feeling you squeeze around his tongue and he pulls so hard against the handcuffs that he can feel them pinching his skin.

his cock -- desperate and needy and untouched -- twitches in the confines of his pants. geto's body tenses, bucking one last time up into the air until he feels the white-hot pleasure of his orgasm shoot through his body.

he groans, fighting against his restraints as he spills his cum into his pants, making a wet, sticky mess on his thigh to match the one you're making on his face.

god, he is obsessed with you.

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #fem!reader #geto #jjk #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #tiff.ask #tiff.fic #geto.os

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year ago

Text

Lieutenant Steal-Your-Girl

Day 8: Cuckolding (Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Light angst (relationship woes); open relationships; cuckolding, but not really, I think I did this one wrong but got too deep to turn back; Jake is a bad boyfriend; smut (Oral, F!receiving; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count: 5536

AN: This was requested for Kinktober by an anon!

AN2: This might not be for everyone. People feel A Certain Way about open relationships, and this is very much a Reddit revenge version of that. Cuckolding? Maybe if you squint. I dunno. It got away from me and my original intention for this. Also, if you're a Jake fan, this won't be for you. Read at your own peril.

The sentence makes Bob Floyd short-circuit. A question, in English, uttered by Jake with his smarmy grin, but it’s so incongruous, Bob’s mind cannot grasp it.

“You wanna fuck my girl, Baby on Board?”

Bob sputters at the question. He feels his cheeks heat up as blood floods his face in a furious blush. He wonders if it’s a joke, a put-on by the other pilots. He glances around—to the piano where Rooster is perched, to the bar where Nat and Javi wait patiently for a fresh pitcher—and finds himself without backup. It’s just him and Bagman by the pool tables.

Bob can’t help but glance out the windows of the Hard Deck to see where you’re sitting.

Where you’re waiting patiently for Jake to rejoin you. Where you often sit alone while Jake flirts with the local girls. Where the other members of the Dagger Squad often sit with you, an apology of sorts, a paltry way of making up for your boyfriend’s inattention. Where Bob, more than any other Dagger, often sits with you, distracts you from your wayward boyfriend, makes you laugh with his corny jokes.

You explain to him one night how you and Jake are trying an open thing, an open relationship, a way of spicing up your long-term thing—but Bob hears the misery in your voice, and he sees the hurt look in your eyes when you see your boyfriend openly flirting with his next conquest—

Jake snapping his fingers brings Bob back to focus. He opens his mouth, manages to answer Jake (“of course not, she’s your girl, Bagman”), but it’s the flimsiest of lies. Bob knows it. Jake knows it.

Bob has wanted you from the moment he clapped his eyes on you.

-----

Another night, another moment where Bob finds himself alone with Jake.

The same question posed to him. “You wanna fuck my girl, Bob?”

This time, Jake doesn’t let Bob sputter out a lie. The man shakes his head, offers a rueful grin, then claps Bob on the back hard enough to nearly jolt him off his stool.

“It isn’t an accusation,” Jake clarifies. “It’s a question. An offer. You interested?”

Another lie when he stammers out, “no, I wouldn’t…I mean, I don’t think—”

Jake cuts him off with another hard clap on the back. “Let’s take a walk, huh? Me and you. We’ll talk.”

-----

That’s the night Bob learns that his understanding of kinks is incomplete. He always thought of kinks as things like role-playing or handcuffs or outrageous lingerie. He never knew of cuckolding beyond, perhaps, a vague memory of reading the word in high school when they read Shakespeare in English class.

That’s the night Bob learns that beyond opening up your relationship, Jake has a thing for cuckolding. It’s only theoretical; you haven’t slept with anyone but Jake, but Jake has taken full advantage of the open relationship and has had many lovers beyond you.

And Jake finds the idea of you with another man intoxicating. However, when he’s broached the subject with you, urged you to go out and find yourself a one-night stand, you’ve balked.

Hence, the need for Bob.

“She is comfortable with you,” Jake explains, and it sounds so commonplace, so everyday that he’s offering his girlfriend up as a potential one-night stand for his fellow Dagger. “And I know you like her.”

Bob ends up declining. Of course he likes you. He’s wanted you for as long as he’s known you. He lies awake at night, plagued by insomnia that has its origin in you. Evenings cheering you up at the Hard Deck haunt him—your sad eyes that always track Jake around the bar, but the way you laugh at Bob’s jokes, the way you chat with him earnestly about books and movies, about hiking trails you want to conquer, places you want to travel to. You’re Bob’s dream girl but you’re taken, whether your relationship is open or not.

Bob declines Jake’s offer. Besides, it feels too close to a business deal, edging too close to something akin to sex work, albeit without money changing hands. Jake and his smarmy grin feels too close to being a pimp. Just two men making a deal about a woman without her input.

So Bob declines, but when you make a similar offer weeks later, that’s something else entirely.

-----

It happens at the Hard Deck. You’re outside nursing a drink, separating yourself from where Jake chats up a local woman. Bob sits beside you, and he tells you a story from when he was stationed in Pensacola, but you’re not really listening.

You cut him off halfway through his story, turn to face him. Your eyes, usually so sad, have a fire in them he’s never seen before, and it pulls his up short, strikes him mute.

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” you ask, and if Bob stammered his way through Jake’s offer, he doesn’t hesitate a single second when you ask.

“Yes,” he replies. “Absolutely.”

-----

Bob has no idea what the rules are. Jake made it sound like a tawdry hook-up, a late-night meeting with sex and nothing else.

You? You ask him if he wants to go out with you, and Bob interprets that as a date night. He gets your number, texts you throughout the week, and makes plans.

A proper date night. Bob can’t tell if Jake knows or not. He’s unclear if there’s a don’t-ask, don’t-tell policy in place, despite how open Jake seems to be with his own dalliances. Bob keeps it hush-hush, and late Saturday afternoon, Bob finds himself at your apartment.

-----

Years later, Bob will be able to admit to himself: this isn’t just a date for him.

It’s an audition. It’s a job interview. It’s Lieutenant Robert Floyd doing his damnedest to show you that he’s a better bet than Jake.

Bob sees how unhappy you are with Jake, how miserable you are to be in an open relationship you didn’t want. It’s Bob trying to show you that Jake isn’t the only man in the world; that there are other proverbial fish in the proverbial sea, and that maybe another man (Bob, specifically) would cherish you, would love you, would never offer you up to other men. Cuckolding isn’t Bob’s kink at all, so he misinterprets Jake’s insistence as guilt. Jake must feel guilty, Bob reasons, and offering you up feels like a twisted version of atonement—a chance for you to explore other men.

It occurs to Bob that Jake chose him because he doesn’t feel threatened. Bob Floyd—quiet Bob with his terrible, Navy-issued glasses, with his quiet voice and lack of braggadocio—is no threat to the handsome, cocky pilot.

Years later, it will only demonstrate: Jake Seresin doesn’t know Bob Floyd at all, but more to the point—Jake Seresin doesn’t really know you.

*****

As far as first dates go, Bob knocks it out of the park.

Not that you have a lot of experience. You’ve only ever had one first date—all the way back in sophomore year of high school—when Jake took you out to Sonic and then felt you up in the cab of his truck.

You try not to compare Adult Bob against Adolescent Jake. It wouldn’t be fair.

It doesn’t stop you from comparing Adult Bob to Adult Jake, and the differences are stunning.

Bob greets you at your door with a bouquet of flowers, cheerful daises that nod their fat little heads as you invite him in to put them in water. Bob does his usual Bob-stammer, a faint pink tinge to his cheeks as he tells you how beautiful you look.

When was the last time Jake got you flowers? When was the last time Jake complimented your looks?

You often feel invisible with your boyfriend, and it’s always been that way. Star running back Jake, hometown hero, dating the perfectly average, perfectly middle-of-the-road girl. Jake with his good looks, his perfect smile, his perfect tan, his perfect muscles…and you.

Jake’s idea of a date night is typically the Hard Deck, and since the two of you have opened up your relationship, date night has ceded to hunting for new prospects. You dread it every time; you sit outside and listen to the ceaseless roll of the waves, and you wait with a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach to see if you’ll go home alone or if your boyfriend will turn up at last call, disappointed to have struck out, disappointed to go home to boring old you.

You are desperately unhappy. Your emotions veer wildly. You swing between extremes: manic periods where you work out, get your hair styled, where you scrub and polish and pluck yourself as near to perfect as you can get. Depressive periods where you can barely summon the strength to shower, ground down by the thought of your boyfriend fucking other women.

You know you should end it. When Jake sat you down all those months ago, your stomach had fluttered with butterflies. This is it, you thought. He’s going to ask me to marry him. You’d waited so long, patient and unswerving in your devotion. Through college and flight school, bouncing around in his wake as his assignments and deployments dictated.

Instead, Jake told you he was bored. That he read up on it, and he thought opening the relationship would be good for him. For you, too.

“As long as we always come home to each other, I don’t see it as a bad thing,” he had told you, and you—always invisible, always trailing behind him like a lost puppy—had hated yourself when you nodded in agreement.

-----

Bob takes you first to an independent bookstore, a tucked-away little gem, and you realize immediately that he isn’t playing fair. When you tell him so, shaking your forefinger with a mock-frown, he only gives you his soft Bob Floyd smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he claims, and he holds his palms up in surrender. “We just have a little time to kill before our reservations.”

Bad enough he’s brought you here. The two of you talk books all the time, and it’s a thoughtful date idea. But what makes it worse is when he sidles up to you as you read the book jacket of a new release and says, low near your ear, “get whatever you want. My treat.”

It’s the moment the bottom falls out for you. It’s like you’ve been wading around in the shallow end of the pool, and Bob’s sweet date paired with Bob’s surprisingly low, grumbling voice near your ear is your foot slipping into the deep end. You find yourself treading water. You find yourself fighting off the panicky urge to flail.

-----

Dinner is at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, and you wonder if Bob timed it so that you’d be there during sunset.

You suspect he did. You’re starting to suspect that this isn’t just some prelude to fucking, the crude reality of this open relationship you and Jake are doing, the cuckolding fetish that Jake seems to have. Bob could have just invited you over to his place, but he’s planned such a lovely first date.

You are out of your depth, but when the panic starts to grip you, you only look across the table to see Bob: his bright blue eyes, his gentle smile, the tips of his ears pink underneath the soft wave of his hair. You look at him and it feels natural, and the panic ebbs away but it’s replaced by something else.

Doubt. This date with Bob is a crack in the foundation of your relationship with Jake. A tiny little trickle of doubt slips through.

Why does this feel so easy, you think as you pick at your meal. Why does this feel so easy but everything with Jake feels so fraught?

It feels easy because Bob talks to you, not at you. He’s endlessly curious about you: your history, your likes, your dislikes. What your job is like, what your childhood was like. Where you see yourself in five years, in ten, in twenty? Do you like the country or the city? The ocean or the mountains? Do you like dogs or cats or both? What’s your favorite book, what’s the last movie you saw?

Jakes doesn’t ask you those questions, and you half-convince yourself that it’s because you’ve been together for so long. Jake knows everything there is to know about you.

But you know that’s not true. Bob pays for dinner, then takes your hand in his. He walks you to a nearby gelato place for dessert, and it’s nearly perfect. This second first date with Bob Floyd while your boyfriend is out doing god know what (or who).

It’s nearly perfect but not entirely because you admit to yourself that Jake doesn’t know everything about you at all. He’s never asked what you’re reading, who your favorite author is, and it hits you suddenly that Bob—who you’ve known for a handful of months, if that—might know parts of you better than your boyfriend.

At Bob’s truck, he puts the key in the ignition but doesn’t turn it yet. He turns to face you, and his face is a furious red. He’s blushing, you realize. Something is making him blush.

“Take you home?” he asks, and his voice has a strange tension in it that you’ve never heard before. You think of this date, all the effort he put into it to make it perfect. You think of all the times he’s kept you company at the Hard Deck, how sometimes he sits in front of you, makes his body block your line of sight so you can’t see Jake leaning in on some girl who is prettier than you, more adventuresome than you—

“No.” You shake your head, then smile at Bob. You don’t care about Jake and his stupid cuckolding kink; you’ve been on a low-simmer of growing desire ever since the bookshop when Bob leaned in and growled in your ear. You want Bob for Bob’s own sake.

“Take me to your place,” you say.

*****

It’s a dangerous thing, how Jake never once crosses Bob’s mind once he gets you to his apartment. Bob forgets the reality of this situation: that you’re taken, that this is a one-time thing, that it’s actually feeding into Jake’s kink, not yours or Bob’s.

Bob forgets all of that. He’s only focused on you: lovely, perfect you. The best date he’s ever been on, and Bob feels like a million bucks at how surprised you’d been with each part of it. The way your face lit up at the flowers, at his compliments. The squeal of surprise at the book store, the shy way you only chose one book for him to buy you—he would have bought you the whole store if you’d asked. The content sigh each time you looked at the sun setting over the ocean, and how natural it felt to hold your hand as he walked you back to his truck.

Bob doesn’t think of Jake until afterwards, and it’s dangerous because Bob instead thinks about second dates, third dates. He forgets that you’re spoken for, and instead he spins out an entire future where he meets your family and you meet his, where he cleans off a shelf in his bathroom for you, where the two of you move in together…

Who could blame him, though? Once he gets you inside his apartment, he turns to ask if you want a drink, but you’re right there, standing so close to him that he can see the little amber flecks in your eyes and the question is only halfway out of his mouth when you kiss him.

Of course Bob doesn’t think of Jake. He’s wanted you since he first saw you, and here you finally are: your hands on him, holding him steady as you press your lips to his, as you bump against his glasses and knock them askew, then break the kiss to gently reach up and set them right again.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and Bob doesn’t link your sudden reticence—you avoid his eyeline—to Jake. He doesn’t make the connection between your bashful expression and how you’ve only ever kissed Jake, slept with Jake, and how monumental this all must feel.

“Don’t apologize.” Bob cups his hands on your bare shoulders, pulls you in for a hug. “Nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I’m not very good at this.” It comes out muffled, your face pressed against his shoulder.

Bob has always guessed that your rocky relationship with Jake has shaken your confidence, but he doesn’t think of that now. He only feels you sigh against him, embarrassed, so he pushes you away gently, touches his forehead to yours.

“You’re fine,” he assures you. “You’re perfect.” Then he leans in, kisses you this time, and when his glasses get knocked off-kilter again, he just takes them off, folds them into his pocket, then leads you into his bedroom.

*****

You’ve spent a lot of time on the internet researching cuckolding as a kink, and you had settled on the belief that Jake was into it because he was turned on by the idea of another man using you.

Or maybe he just feels guilty that he’s the only one taking advantage of the open relationship.

Who can say? When you try to talk about it, Jake brushes you off, tells you not to worry about it too much, so you never are quite clear on what motivates the man you thought you’d marry one day.

But as far as being used goes, nothing about your dalliance with Bob says used: the man worships you. He kneels in front of your body like a penitent, and his hands are so gentle, his voice so soft as he asks permission every step of the way.

“Can I kiss you here?”

“Can I touch you here?”

Is this okay? Does this feel good? Tell me what you like. Tell me what you need. I’ll do anything. Let me make you feel good.

Is this what Jake wanted—a change from the usual? Because being with Bob feels like a revelation: you’ve never been loved like this. He kisses his way down your naked body, then reverses course until he’s between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs open. His mouth on you, the shy little swipes of his tongue until he gets a taste of you—then he devours you like a starved man, completely unabashed at the groans leaving him, at the way he grinds into the bedding at how turned on he is to feast on you.

You open your mouth to tell him not to bother, that you’ve never come from oral alone, but then you feel how your body is responding, the answering arousal to Bob’s skilled tongue, and when he slides a finger inside you, you’re reminded of that too-deep feeling from earlier.

But instead of feeling panicky, you feel a sharp throb of arousal. You aren’t afraid of being in too deep now. You aren’t straining to return to shore.

You want to be swept out to sea, and you want Bob to be the one to do it. When your orgasm approaches, you reach down and tangle your fingers in Bob’s hair—it’s as soft as it looks, just as silky—and Bob looses a groan that vibrates up from your pussy to the very top of your head. He reaches up and holds your hand against his head, mumbles against you to use him, to grind against him, so you do. You lift your hips and press against his mouth, feel the bump of his nose against your clit, and you realize that you’re about to come from oral for the first time in your life and that it’s not your boyfriend who’s done it.

When you come against Bob’s mouth, every single thought of Jake is erased from your head, and you won’t think of him again afterwards.

*****

Bob takes a long beat to get control of himself. He was dangerously close to coming as he ate you out, and he waits for his own orgasm to fade into the background before he continues.

Instead, he props himself on one elbow and just watches you. If you looked beautiful before, you look even more so now: all of the tension is gone from your face, and blink up at him sleepily, dreamily. Your smile is lazy, and when you sigh, it’s nothing but content.

“Good?” he asks, grinning down at you.

You nod, just as lazy as your smile. “The best.” You purse your lips, pout up at him. “Kiss me?”

How can he resist? He leans down to kiss you, and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, pull him closer to you. Eating you out has relaxed you, banished whatever doubts you had from earlier, and you kiss him now with a passion he’s never experienced before: you part your lips, you slide your tongue into his mouth, you lick against him. You must taste yourself on him because you make the cutest damned whimper, and it goes straight to his dick, hearing how undone you are.

Then you do this cute little wriggling move underneath him, and Bob’s body moves independently of his brain: he slots himself between your thighs, slick from his earlier attention, and his erection bumps against your hip, your belly before you reach down and guide him to where you want him most.

Bob breaks the kiss long enough to mumble his question about protection, and it won’t occur to him until much later—what it means when you say you’re on birth control but also that you’re clean, that there’s no risk.

It won’t occur to Bob until later, what it means for you to say you’re clean. It won’t occur to him that you’re in a committed relationship, that your boyfriend has regular hookups but you remain STD-free since your last checkup.

It’ll hit Bob in the middle of his workday at Miramar, what you are telling him now: that your bedroom with Jake is dead and has been for a while, and that this moment with Bob is the first time you’ve had sex in months.

He’ll realize that later. Now, there’s only the feeling of your pussy—warm, wet, perfect—as he pushes into you. There’s only the sound of your sharp inhale, your whine as you tell him to go slow, to be gentle, but you don’t need to tell him that. He’d never hurt you, and he can feel how tight you are, so he goes slow. He works himself into you carefully, watches your face for any sign of pain.

He sees none. He goes so slowly that he only sees your expression go from worried to stunned: the lines in your brow smooth out and your lips part as you gaze up at him, a perfect oh of surprise.

When he’s fully seated in you, buried in the silky depths of your pussy, Bob stills—and he realizes that you are trembling underneath him.

“Honey,” he breathes out, the sweet nickname falling from his mouth without thought. “You okay? You want me to—”

“No.” You cut him off, gift him with a shaky smile. “Stay with me, okay? Just stay with me a minute.”

“’Course.” He leans down, bumps his nose against yours until your smile firms up, seems steadier. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Bob only moves enough to settle more of his weight on you, and then he takes the time to kiss you: he trails featherlight kisses across your face, your forehead, your flushed cheeks. He kisses the tip of your nose—it pulls a giggle from you, and the sound makes him smile. He kisses along your jaw. He dips his head near your ear, whispers how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, how he’d happily stay like this forever. He doesn’t miss the little shudder you give at his praise.

Bob doesn’t realize that he’s shifted your worldview entirely. Just this simple liaison—not even complete, and nothing extreme—has rearranged everything you thought you knew. You aren’t actively thinking of Jake at all—he’s been banished until afterwards—but you’re considering the balance of your entire erotic history against this single moment with Bob.

You’re realizing that sex can be so much more than just an act…and with Bob, a man you haven’t known that long.

You eventually stop trembling. Bob feels it when you relax; the tight clench of your cunt slackens a bit. He feels your hands on him, shy at first and then bolder as you run your warm palms over the planes of his back, along his shoulders and arms. As you thread your fingers through his hair, comb out the tangles there. As you rest your palm along the back of his head and lead his face back to yours.

“Thank you.” You whisper it, and your eyes are wide. Earnest. Bob isn’t sure what you’re thanking him for, so he just kisses you again.

“I’m ready,” you mumble against his searching lips.

“You sure?”

A nod, a purposeful roll of your hips that makes Bob see stars, makes the edges of his vision turn hazy with desire.

“Take me, Bob,” you tell him, and he’s never heard you so assured. “I’m yours.”

So he does. He takes you in small movements, focused on your pleasure. He is used to sitting in the backseat of a billion dollar plane, all those systems to keep track of, so focusing on you is an easy, wondrous thing: the expression on your face, the moans he manages to pull from you. The way your eyes flutter shut or roll back or fix on him like he’s responsible for setting the sun in the sky. The way your hands touch him or hold him, sometimes soft and stroking, sometimes clinging to him like he’s your life preserver. The way your cunt feels, slick and warm and gripping him, obscenely wet as he fucks into you harder, the sound of skin on skin, the heady scent of sex filling his room, and he hopes it lingers for days afterwards, he wants the moment to never end.

He focuses on your pleasure as it rises, crests around you: the way you tighten up, bear down harder on him until he loses some of his rhythm. He reaches a shaky hand down to touch you there, the slick, swollen place where he disappears into the confines of your body, and he rubs a tight circle against you. He begs you to come for him; he’s so close, he feels his balls tightening against his body, and he needs you to come for him first, needs to feel you before—

When you come, you say his name. You breathe it out, a hot pant against his ear, and Bob is grateful for it because it pushes him over the edge. He groans out your name too, chokes out a curse, and you come together—your pussy pulsing around him as he buries himself in you, comes inside you.

Marks you as his.

-----

Afterwards, Bob remembers Jake and feels a sting of conscience—but not enough to send you home. That had been integral to the cuckolding thing, Bob sending you home thoroughly fucked, to sleep beside Jake, for Jake to know you’d been with another man and to be turned on by it.

A mean little part of Bob wants to. He wants to send you home satisfied, his cum dripping out of you. Part of him sees the allure of it from his side; Jake doesn’t consider Bob a threat, so it’d hit the smug bastard hard to see you satisfied, happy from your dalliance with the back-seater.

But Bob doesn’t give a shit about Jake. Not when you’re sitting in his bed with the sheets wrapped around you, uncertain all of a sudden, and Bob kisses you on the forehead and tells you to stay.

“Just stay the night,” he says. “Please. I’d love for you to stay.”

He sees the doubt on your face. He knows you’re thinking of Jake, and Bob feels a flare of something—anger, protectiveness, whatever. It gives him the courage to speak up. He takes your hand in his, settles on the bed beside you.

“Honey, is this even what you wanted? I had a fun time with you, but would you have asked me out if Jake hadn’t wanted it?”

Your expression turns from uncertain to surprise in an instant. “No! I mean, I asked you out because I like you. And because I’m in an open thing. I thought…” You trail off, stare at him as you try to assemble your words. “Did you only agree to take me about because of Jake?”

Bob shakes his head. “No. I took you out because I wanted to. I brought you here because I want you.”

Your surprise turns to a shy smile. “Really?”

He squeezes your hand. “Really.”

Your smile fades away by degrees, and your eyes shine with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this, you know. I…I wanted to get married, have kids, all that, but he…” You sigh, drop your head. “I don’t like the open relationship. It makes me feel like I’m not enough, you know?”

“Honey—”

“Like if I were better somehow, he wouldn’t have to go out and find other women—”

“Hey, no, don’t—”

“Like, what is wrong with me? Why aren’t I enough? Why—”

“Stop.” Bob places a finger over your mouth to silence you. He hates all this doubt, hates how little you think of yourself, so he stills your words. “You’re enough,” he tells you. “Hell, honey, you’re everything.”

You blink at him, surprised. The shimmering tears shake loose, start to course down your cheeks, and Bob pulls you to him, holds you as you cry. He wraps you in his arms as you sob against him, gasp out that you don’t know what to do, that you’ve felt lost for months now—

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” he murmurs against your head. “You just need a good night’s rest. That’s all you need to do tonight.”

Your tears taper off. You push away from him gently and swipe at where your tears have made his bare chest wet.

“Stop being so wise, Lieutenant,” you grumble, but there’s a teasing quality there that makes Bob smile. You sniffle and glance up at him, and he’s struck how beautiful you are even with swollen, teary eyes.

Maybe you’ve rearranged his world too.

No, there’s no maybe to it. You’ve definitely rearranged his world.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says, and he keeps his voice low and even, tries to keep the excitement out of it. He can sense that a sea-change is coming, and he doesn’t want to jinx it.

“Stay tonight,” he repeats. “Things are always clearer in the morning, I find.”

So you do. You nod at him, and you wave off his offers to get you clothes to sleep in. The two of you fall asleep in record time—the cure for Bob’s you-induced insomnia is you, both the cause and the cure, your warm, naked body curled up alongside him as he fades into sleep.

And you were right: Bob is wise. You’ll wake in the morning to an empty bed, a room full of sunlight, the lingering scent of sex. You’ll pad out into Bob’s kitchen and find the man putting the finishing touches on breakfast, and you’ll let him feed you before you let him fuck you again—this time on his kitchen counter, the room full of light so you can see the blatant love in his expression as he claims you again. And then a third time, together in the shower, a slow moment so full of feeling that you’ll cry when you come, and Bob will hold you, will choke back words as he comes too, and you’ll wonder later why those bitten-back words sound so much like I love you.

And then you’ll let Bob drive you home where Jake will be waiting for you. His smug smile will fall as you breeze past him, his cuckolding fantasy falling apart in front of him because he was the only one turned on by it, the only one turned on by opening your relationship. Jake will realize too late that he only opened the door for someone else to come and steal you away, and that the thief will be Robert Floyd, who taught you that love should never be such a fraught, painful thing, and that you may not be enough for Jake, but for the right man, you are everything.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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marchsfreakshow · 1 month ago

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Withdrawals And Heartache [Kai Anderson]

Angst / smut teasings

Your friend got you into a cult when you moved back into town for a bit. Not that you knew it was a cult. But, the leader...looks oddly familiar.

Request for anon who suggested a part 2 to 'A Drug For His Heart' !! Ur request honestly gave me so many ideas so thank u for that.

Some warnings: smut implications has non-con, reference to hitting, Kai himself. Mentions of religion/corruption. Ultraviolence references but the roles are reversed. We got everything here at MarchsFreakshow

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"look just come to one. It'll be worth it."

"Hm.."

You looked at your friend with distain. Being back in this town, knowing the possibility that Kai still lived here tugged at you. Well...you hadn't seen him so far, what was the possibility of seeing him at this... meeting you were suggested? You figured 100% you wouldn't see him.

The man's voice was lower, his face darkened by the shadows. You almost clung to your friend when you walked into the room with them. This place looked familiar. But you didn't put it past you, plenty of houses in this town looked similar to one another. Maybe it was your ditzying memory. 2 years away and a job that paid you well. There was not much here for you apart from family.

"Finally."

His voice rung through your ears. Your friend sat you down with them at the back. Why that voice...like the one that whimpered your name so long ago? Despite those lingering thoughts, his face was still hidden by the shadows. Quick, lingering glances to you. Like he knew you. His eyes on you had you slightly squirming. Adjusting your legs casually, pulling your coat sleeves down. He took notice of it all.

"You. Stay sat." His finger pointed directly into your eyes. Silently eyeing your friend, begging them to stay. Yet, they left in the crowd. Eyes meeting eyes. His footsteps, calculated, short and sour.

Standing up, you left your chair, to stand in front him. The stringy, greasy blue hair, the boba black eyes, the nose. The hands.

Kai.

"Kai.."

He repeated your online name. It made you cringe slightly. "You looked familiar. Why are you back in town?"

"Family."

"Tell me something...your real name. The one people use to devote their time to you."

Slightly stuttering, you got out your real name.

This wasn't the incel, nervous, shaky loser you met on Reddit over 2 years ago. Kai stood taller. Still had terrible hygiene. Atleast one thing never changed. He was more confident in himself, proud and ready to kill. And..the blue hair. It almost confused you. Why blue? He looked perfectly fine the way he did with his natural hair.

"It suits you." A moment of almost awkward silence between the two of you. "Why did you move? Was it me?"

"It wasn't you." It was him. Another step towards you, and his hands confidently found the small of your back. Not reminiscent of his shaky, nervous hands on your waist and your back when he held you close, when he pulled you flush against his chest. Yet that heartbeat stayed the same. Picking up it's own pace once he had you in his arms once again. "Ha...Kai." You breathed out, sprawling your hands over his chest, almost an instinct to push him away.

No. He couldn't have you push him away. Not after what you put him through. "I missed you."

"...I didn't."

Those dark eyes, somehow darker when Kai stared his soul into your soul. Rage. Confusion. Why didn't you miss him? He poured his heart out to you when it was so long ago. Shouldn't you've taken it all to him when you noticed it was him? The dim light over you flickered like a horror movie, a horrible cliché. His fingers digging themselves into your coat fabric, holding himself back from doing something that could drive you away from him.

Kai missed you. He had back in his arms. After so long. He held himself back. His true love. His love for you wasn't enough. Was it? It never was enough. Why was loving you hard? It was so easy...when you were the same person. "I'm different now Kai." Like you knew what he was thinking. "I'm healthier...not wasting away in front of a-"

His hand struck you. A quick, hard slap over your cheek. The reddening skin covered just as speedily with your own hand. "Kai-!"

"Do you really think you're that much different from when you were depending on me?"

"..what the fuck Kai?!"

Meeting your gaze, levelling himself. This definitely wasn't Kai. Whoever it was, you wanted out. Now. "..Still a pretty one. I suppose you're one with a rosary on your bedstand. Hoping for a better world."

No retort after a few minutes. Steeling silence with a unclear gaze, your hand still soothing the sting of your cheek. It almost earned a huff of a chuckle from the blue haired man. Why blue? "Believe yourself to be a lamb? Innocently following the word of god?" Well...you wouldn't go so far as to call yourself a lamb of god. But maybe you read a few verses on Sunday. Visited the church and made a donation when you felt you needed some time away from your own head. Not a full puppet to the landscape of religion. Silent still. Not giving up yet? Kai had seen that. Seen how you were digging your stare into those eyes of his.

"Your god has only let you down." Taking a step around you. Breathing out a sigh, putting his hands on yours and wrapping them around you. Pressing his cheek to the side of your head. Like he was taking you in. "If god...truly loved you..why has you lead you here?"

Your lips were sealed. No response. There was no way you were giving into his stupid tauntings. He was doing this on purpose. Riling you up. You ached to lay your hands back on him. Yet, not wanting to give the desperate man an inch of your time. Such a different man to the one you knew, but still the same. Needing your attention, and your touch at all times like the loser in his mom's basement.

Now that was mentioned...you were here. In the basement. This..was infact Kai's house. How could you be so stupid? Of course this was Kai's place!! You knew the hallways looked familiar. The whole house. "fuck."

"There we go... can't keep yourself quiet for long. Even when I begged you to stay quiet." He lead you over to a table. Even if that did include a bit of thrashing and refusals. Attempting to get yourself away. Such a pitiful thing. So pitiful. The stinging of your cheek had lessened by this point, but it was still there. Never backing yourself down however. You'd gotten this far. Such a pretty thing. "I've missed you..Even if you haven't missed me."

Not particularly wanting to give into your fate, you continued to struggle. Attempts to get away from him; cut your trip short and go back home.

As much as you would never admit it, Kai did appear in your mind once or twice after you moved away. How could he not? For one, he took your virginity. You took his. That was something important to you, and you yanked it away from eachother.

Like how he yanked your jeans away from you. The cold air hit your thighs before you could respond. Both of you stayed silent. His belt hit the ground. You still felt the same. Gripping onto you. Playing with your skin as he got used to how you felt around him again. Whimpering your name again. But your actual name this time. Not your online name.

Somehow become his again, even though you'd leave again in a week or so.

"fuck..mine.."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

#kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #x reader #kai anderson imagine #ahs #american horror story #ahs cult #american horror story cult #ahs imagine #ahs fic #angst #ahs fandom #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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loverofstufflof · 3 months ago

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Black Myth: Wukong rant because I’m just… so tired of you people.

I hate the community this game has cultivated. I hate looking through the tags and seeing people tearing each other apart over a game based on a story I love.

There’s two stances:

Those who say that merely interacting with the game is in support of all the terrible things the developers have (allegedly) done. Who parade accusations that many have stated were mistranslated and that the situation is far more complicated than it appears.

Those who mock the former by making a straw man of their concerns while simultaneously displaying their misogyny, racism, homophobia, and general traits that make it clear they’ve never touched a woman in their life.

One is slightly more tolerable than the other. Neither make me feel welcome in enjoying this project I’ve been looking forward to for years.

I will be talking more about purple, because I don’t speak Chinese, and feel that I have no authority speaking too much on orange.

Purple people are beyond insufferable.

I think that most of this came from a Screen Rant review that listed one of the game’s flaws as “a lack of diversity.” This is an accurate analysis, and has been warped beyond belief.

I can understand the outrage… a bit. When playing a game surrounding Chinese culture, in which you play as an inhuman character fighting equally inhuman enemies, it doesn’t make too much sense to request racial representation. And when there isn’t any romance, representation for sexual orientations also wouldn’t work. Including anything in those merit would feel forced and out of place, I agree.

But you wanna know what the reviewer wrote?

She was concerned about the lack of women.

She felt unwelcome when playing a game made by rumoured misogynists because there were no women at all.

And she explicitly said that the game was still enjoyable despite this.

She gave it such a “low score” (3/5) because of the performance issues and repetitiveness. By her own rating, the game was listed as “Worth a shot despite its flaws.”

Everything got so bad they had to take down her name for her safety.

People in the purple category took this review to mean that the “woke left” was “pushing an agenda” and “trying to cancel this game for not having pansexual nonbinary black people.” Which, as I’m sure you can now understand, was not the case. The boycott surrounding this game is purely based on accusations targeted towards the developers, not the game’s content.

Of course, I don’t expect many of the aforementioned people in this category to care too much. I’ve seen the Steam reviews where they praise the lack of women. I’ve read the Reddit threads where they feel grateful that there’s “finally a company who understands the male authority.” I’ve scrolled through post after post on Tumblr that “no one would want to play a game where females jiggle their tits around while doing nothing.”

That last one gets me. It’s really telling what you can learn about a person when they say things like that.

The point is, these people make me feel very unwelcome in a community that previously made me most comfortable.

So let’s recap:

The people who I would find community with are portraying the mere interest in this game as a sin that’s worthy of being blocked and shamed over, and the people who are actually in this community remind me why I’m terrified to walk alone.

I have a lot more that I want to say on this, but I don’t really have the words quite yet, and still need to do a fair amount of research (which I probably won’t be doing because holy shit I’m so done with this). Maybe I’ll come back and add some more, but for now I just might block the tag entirely.

I just feel shitty ‘s’all ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

#this is a cry for help can a normal fan please find this post and mutual me #note that this post is about extremists and if you’re an orange person who’s cautiously enjoying the game despite the drama #I’m still vibing with you #it’s just that apparently the only people in this community are extremists #I also wanna make it clear I’ve been exclusively watching play throughs so I haven’t given a dime to the devs #black myth wukong #why can’t this fandom do silly things. like point out that the acronym is BMW and draw monkeys in cars

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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 5*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Dream!Sexual Content - Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. (dream!oral (f-receiving))

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: A conversation with Steve informed you that Bucky was fine, and on his way back to the Tower. He just couldn't be bothered to contact you, it seems. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool.

A/N: Yay, look at that! Some more smut! Finally! Last part of Chapter 17. You know what that means, friends! BETRAYAL IS AROUND THE CORNER!

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You went about the rest of your evening and night as normally as you possibly could to distract yourself, checking up on the work emails you’d missed while you were ill and approving some requests for PTO. You’d listened to some back episodes of a True Crime podcast you’d been meaning to catch up on and aimlessly browsed Reddit, making some anonymous posts debunking some of the more outrageous relationship theories that were popping up concerning you and Steve. You were most definitely, for example, not having his super soldier baby.

Fortunately, you only threw up once during that time, and you were optimistic when, after you did, your stomach growled with hunger. You headed to the kitchen, considering potentially grabbing a plate of Thai leftovers from the other night, but remembering your reaction to Nat’s to-go plate, you opted instead to just make yourself a turkey and cheese sandwich. Best not to risk a repeat performance.

Once you made it back to your room, you decided you’d been awake long enough and called it a night. Checking your phone one last time, you were disappointed, yet not surprised, to see you still had no new messages from Bucky. As you put your head down on your pillow, you could only hope tomorrow would bring better tidings, and soon, you were asleep.

You were dreaming. And oh, it was a very good dream, indeed. You weren’t exactly sure what you were dreaming about, you just knew that delicious tension was building low in your stomach and, fleetingly, you hoped it was the kind of dream where you actually got to finish, and not the kind that left you frustratingly hanging over the precipice without actually falling. Those dreams were the fucking worst.

The dream slowly came into focus, Bucky’s head between your legs, his soft hair brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as his tongued fucked you, the hardened muscle working its way in and out of your cunt as if drawing life from it.

You moaned in your sleep as his tongue slipped from your weeping hole, only to latch onto your clit, dancing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your back arch off the bed as his thick fingers found your entrance and began working their way in and out of you, the pace growing faster by the minute. God. This dream was so fucking good, you never wanted to wake up. Your orgasm was so close, you could practically taste it.

“Bucky,” you moaned in your sleep. Even as a figment of your imagination, he was good enough to elicit sinful sounds from your lips. The pressure was building. You were nearly there.

“That’s it, doll,” Dream Bucky said, his nose rubbing against your clit. He added another finger, stretching you so damned well. “Almost there, baby. You can do it. Come for me.” His mouth returned to your clit, suckling from it and driving you over the edge.

Your breath was coming in ragged gasps, the noises you were making positively pornographic without your conscious mind awake enough to dampen them. But Dream Bucky kept working you through your release, rhythm never faltering.

“I think you can give me another one, pretty girl,” Dream Bucky said. He increased his pace, and soon you were falling again, your arousal coating his hands.

When your aftershocks had subsided, Dream Bucky’s hands pulled away, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. But then, you felt your bed dip, felt the solid, comforting presence of Bucky’s body as it crawled up alongside of you, felt his arms wrap around your waist.

You weren’t dreaming.

“Buck?” you rasped, voice still thick with sleep. “Is that really you, or am I still dreaming?” You reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the unmistakably real sensation of his overgrown stubble against your palm.

“I’m sorry sweets,” Bucky said, a devious smirk plastered across his face, “did I wake you?” He was already divested of most of his clothing, down to just a pair of tight, burgundy boxer briefs.

You yawned and raised your arms over your head, stretching out like a cat. “Was I supposed to sleep through that?” you asked him.

“Mm,” he said, kissing the side of your neck and making you shiver, “I’d really hoped you wouldn’t.” He shifted and you could feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against you. It woke you up immediately.

“Why the fuck haven’t you called me back?” you snapped suddenly, all traces of sleep having gone, leaving you with only your anxiety and unanswered questions. “I’ve been worried fucking sick all day long and I haven’t heard a peep from you! You think you can just give me 24 hours of radio silence, not knowing if you were dead or alive, and come waltzing back here with that magic tongue and I’d just–”

Bucky silenced you with a bruising kiss. “Magic tongue, huh?” he said when you broke for air. You nodded dumbly, currently unable to form a sentence with the way he’d just kissed the shit out of you.

“‘m so sorry, sweets,” Bucky said, his hands slowly making their way to the hem of your sleep shirt and pulling up, exposing your breasts to his lingering gaze. “I never meant to make you worry.” He slipped the shirt over your head, and despite your ire, you helped him do it. “Forgot to pack my international adapter for m’ phone.” He began placing gentle kisses to your breasts. “Battery died.” He took one nipple hungrily into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the peaked flesh. “Couldn’t charge it.” Then the other. You carded your hands through his hair. “Think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

His hand snaked down your belly to cup your heat. God, he had a way of making you feel so fucking good.

“I might be able to be persuaded,” you breathed as his fingers began toying through your slick folds. But logic soon smacked you like one of Natasha’s “love punches,” and you reached out a hand to stop his movements. “We should probably talk first.”

A flash of panic crossed Bucky’s face, and you wondered if he was worried about the articles. “Did you get my messages?” you asked him nervously.

Bucky nodded. “Plugged my phone in back in my room as soon as I got home,” he said. “Hadn’t seen the articles, but even if I had, I know you of all people would never do somethin’ like that. I’d have to be a fucking moron to think so. I know you’d never hurt me.” He had a far away look in his eyes for a moment, and you wondered if he was imagining you and Steve together.

You reached up to cup his face. “But did you see the other part?” you asked him.

“The part about you being ready to try us again?” he asked with a smile. When you nodded he leaned in and kissed you, a quick, sweet peck. “Darlin’, why the hell do you think I rushed over here to wake you up like that? Couldn’t stand to waste another second.”

“Well, then we better make up for lost time,” you teased, reaching down to slide your hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs.”

“I like the way you think,” Bucky grinned as he rolled over until he was lying on top of you. “I hope you’re not tired, sweetheart, because I got plans to keep you up all night long.”

“You talk a big talk, Barnes,” you smirked as you stroked him, firm and slow. “I hope you can back up your words.”

The look Bucky gave you was absolutely sinful as he reached down to free himself. Pressing the head of his cock against your swollen clit, he kissed you again. “Hold on to something, doll,” he said, nipping at the skin of your pulsepoint. “Cause you’re gonna have to beg me to stop.”

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