#i wouldn't shoot people though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

webism · 2 days

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you.

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better.

“Cold feet?” You ask.

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin. Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again.

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day.

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway.

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months.

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you.

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments.

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing?

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end.

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised.

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask.

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo.

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both. His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in.

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?"

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside.

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips.

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it.

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you.

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless.

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is."

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin.

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you.

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe.

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock.

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault. He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours.

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers.

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum.

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently.

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers.

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember.

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going.

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone.

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn.

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him.

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you.

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless.

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours.

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life.

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear.

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next.

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed.

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

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buckyalpine · 11 months

Note

A one shot where Bucky doesn’t like the reader and makes her life at the compound a little rough? Like enemies (maybe to lover or friends?) and she is like the sunshine personality 🥺🥺🥺

I live for this shit This type of angst where he's mean and finds her annoying even though she's a sweetheart, ugh, yes. YES.

Bucky groaned, trying to ignore the shooting pain that seared in his abdomen, clutching an old t-shirt to stop the bleeding from the stab wound he'd received during his latest mission.

"You good there, terminator?" Sam cocked an eyebrow watching Bucky unconvincingly nod, grunting a half assed yes before squeezing his eyes shut and flopping back on the seat.

"You're gonna need stiches" Steve snorted, shaking his head at his stubborn friend.

"I'm fine" Bucky gritted out, preferring to bleed out on the jet instead of going to the med bay where he'd be surrounded by doctors and needles and if he was really unlucky, you.

"Seriously? That's the second shirt you've bled through, I don't think the serum's gonna cut it, punk" Steve sighed, knowing how Bucky felt about getting medical care but it wasn't like he had a choice. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky was shoved in the direction of the medical wing, pouting and grumpy as he limped with Steve supporting him. Bucky frowned when Steve pushed him to lay down on the examination table, grumbling and wincing under his breath.

"You stay here. I'm gonna finish writing up our reports, don't go sneaking off" Steve chuckled, giving his friend's shoulder a squeeze before leaving. The soldier stared up at the florescent lights, his eyes anxiously darting about the room, hoping and praying that at the very least he wouldn't have to deal with-

"Good afternoon Bucky!"

For fucks sake.

Bucky groaned at the chirpy voice that piped up from the door, his brows knotted together from frustration.

He hated it. You'd ask about his day as if he wasn't there go get sewn up. You'd talk to him like you'd known him for years, almost oblivious to the fact that he was a former brain washed assassin. Every time he saw you, you were so giggly and pretty and bouncy and cute and happy and it irked his soul because it was to the point it was unnecessary. I mean you were just so kind and sweet to everyone as if everyone deserved such amazingness from such a wonderful person, okay that's enough Bucky.

The world wasn't fucking sunshine and rainbows and he had no idea why you acted like it was.

"Steve said you needed a few stitches so-

"Where's Dr. Cho" Bucky cut you off, hoping anyone else would help him so he could get on with his day, willing to take the needle and thread himself instead of having you do it while talking his ear off.

"Oh, she's with another patient right now but it's fine, I promise I'll get you out of here soon, do you mind if I remove your vest-

"Yeah, I got it" Bucky huffed, wincing to get his gear off but you stopped him, urging him to stay down.

"No, it's okay, I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it, I'll cut it off, don't worry"

Bucky nodded, lying back down while you grabbed a tray with medical supplied, carefully cutting around the blood soaked material and discarding it. You cleaned the area, mumbling apologies incase the alcohol caused any pain, moving on to closing the cut.

"I heard about the mission you all went on. I can't even imagine going through all that, it sounded terrifying. You're very brave Sargent" You smiled, tossing your gloves aside after patching Bucky up. Bucky grunted as he hopped off the table without a word, ready to whack Steve on the head for telling you of all people he needed help.

"If you need anything else, let me know! Just get some rest for a few days, it'll heal soon-

"I know" Bucky walked out of the room without looking back, his shoulders relaxing when he was far away from he med wing. There was truly no reason for him to be this annoyed but he was tired, in pain and he knew for a fact there would be a pile of papers for him to fill out in the conference room.

You didn't take Bucky's grumpy attitude to heart, understanding the stress that came with going on missions, getting injured every time coupled with the fact that he was probably still healing from his own past. You put away the supplies before taking a coffee break, running into a very excited Tony along the way.

"Hey cupcake, just who I was looking for, do you like chocolate or vanilla"

"Tony, I told you, you don't have to-

"That doesn't answer the question. Pick one or the other or both or another flavor, all the flavours, but give me something"

You giggled at the way he looked at you expectantly, sighing seeing as he wouldn't let up until you answered.

"I'm not picky, you know I'd love anything. Get something everyone would like, seriously, I don't even need all this, I'm just the nurse-

"Stop that right now, there's no one else like you" Tony huffed, planting a quick kiss your head before texting his caterers about everything he wanted, ensuring everything was perfect, especially when it came to you.

You woke up to the sun streaming through the curtains, stretching before getting out of bed and padding over to the bathroom to go through your morning routine. You had the day off, throwing on your joggers instead of your typical scrubs and making your way down to the kitchen, grabbing ingredients for baking.

You hummed, scooping out spoons of cookie batter, plopping it onto the tray and throwing it into the oven, cleaning up the area in between, waiting for the oven timer to go off. You set the chocolate chip cookies onto a tray, piping the last bit of icing onto the top and sweeping away the smidges of frosting that got onto the counter.

Bucky blinked at the smell of baking, making his way to the kitchen for some water after a run. He groaned, nearly walking right back out when he saw you singing to yourself, arranging cookies in a circle, each one decorated for a different person in the tower.

"Good morning Bucky" You smiled while he mumbled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, "I-I made made cookies for everyone, did you want one?" You asked hopefully, looking at the little dog tags you'd piped on the cookie you made for him while he shrugged in response.

"Why do you keep trying so hard, do you not have any friends?" Bucky scoffed, ignoring the fresh plate of cookies that sat on the counter, not caring that your face had fallen. He wanted to strike a nerve, feeling a sick satisfaction at the way you silenced yourself, giving him the peace and quiet he wanted.

"S-sorry, I just thought-

"You thought what?" Buck cocked an eyebrow, the tick in his jaw making your stomach churn.

"Nothing, sorry" You mumbled, turning back to continue cleaning while he chugged the rest of the bottle. "I've just leave them here if you want one later on-

"No, I don't want one now and I don't think I'll want one later either" Bucky glared at you, tired of you always trying to do things for others as if anyone asked.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't-" you bit your lip hard to keep from crying, not wanting to annoy Bucky more.

"Why do you always act like everything great? Like we don't come back from almost dying, risking our lives while you go about like the world is perfect"

"I just-I didn't mean-

"You didn't mean what, to be annoying? Did anyone even ask for this?" Bucky nodded to the cookies while you shook your head, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed, not realizing others also probably found you annoying.

"I-it was my birthday, I thought-" you sniffled, choking back a whimper, "I wanted to do something nice - never mind" You bit your lip to keep from breaking down, blinking back tears as you scurried off to your room, without looking back.

The initial satisfaction Bucky was short lived as he stood in the now empty kitchen, tossing the bottle aside. The plate caught his eye once more as he walked by, reluctantly stopping to look at each one, your skilled hands decorating each one with clean details. He instantly spotting the one you made for him which had been dusted with silver just like his tags; he had no idea how you managed to get his name and number piped to precisely.

Not that it mattered.

Bucky continued to make his way to the gym, feeling a little bad that he made you cry but he figured you'd get over soon enough, after all that seemed to be your strong suit, you were always happy and smiling anyway.

"You're coming tonight, right?" Steve dropped the weights he was curling while Bucky frowned, unsure of what the captain was referring to.

"Why, what's tonight" Bucky grunted, still in the middle of his set.

"Seriously, Tony told us like a month ago"

"Yeah, fine" Bucky huffed, not really caring what it was about, knowing he'd be dragged to go regardless. He finished the rest of his workout, retreating back to his room to shower. He flopped onto his bed after, grabbing a book from his bedside table seeing as there was still plenty of time till he had to get ready.

The book had been a Christmas present from you and as much as he hated to admit it, it was perfect and one of his favorites. He tried to focus on the words, feeling bad again thinking about how your face had fallen earlier when all you did was offer him a cookie.

Maybe he went a little overboard with his reaction...

Bucky shook the guilt he felt, hoping that you'd be running around somewhere getting ready for whatever tonight was.

"Where's y/n" Sam looked around the room seeing everyone else present but you, the night in full swing seeing as Tony had gone all out as usual "I swear she said she'd be here, this is literally her birthday party"

"I didn't see her" Nat frowned, putting down the drink she was sipping on, scanning the room again, "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen her all day"

Bucky felt a deep pang in his chest when he realized the party was for you, his stomach twisting in knots.

"Where's our birthday girl" Steve asked as he joined the others, the guilt making Bucky feel even more sick. He ran a hand over his face while the others continued to wonder where you were. "I hope she isn't working, she deserves a day off, she already worked over time for 3 months straight when we were running back to back missions"

Bucky remembered that.

They'd all been sent out on missions spread across different months and you'd been the one on call to patch them up the entire time. You hadn't complained once even through you were thoroughly sleep deprived. At the time Bucky was annoyed you were in such an upbeat mood when they were all scraping by but you had been struggling yourself.

"I fucked up" Bucky groaned, feeling awful for how he'd treated you in the morning and for how he'd been acting towards you in general.

"Why, what did you do" Steve's face twisted in confusion while Bucky's face reddened in embarrassment. Steve was aware Bucky complained about you but he figured it was because his bestfriend got flustered around the pretty nurse, he'd seen Bucky get tongue tied plenty of times whenever you walked by.

"You were a grumpy asshole to y/n, weren't you" Sam frowned seeing Bucky's guilty face. The soldier didn't say another word, leaving the group to find you instead, debating on getting Steve to clock him in the jaw first. Bucky ran to the elevator, pushing the button to your floor, hoping he'd see you making your way down, only to find the hallway empty. His heart broke hearing the soft sniffles coming from your room, the door closed. He gently knocked on the door, your cries quieting down as if you'd silenced yourself to pretend you were asleep instead of opening the door.

"Y/n?" Bucky called for you only to be met with more silence, "Can-can you please open the door?" His heart started to beat faster when he head your footsteps approaching the door, clicking the lock open; you were still in your joggers from earlier, your face puffy from crying.

All because of him.

"Sorry, I fell asleep" you lied, keeping your face trained on your feet, worried Bucky had come to yell at you about the party Tony had thrown for you, "and I'm sorry about the party, you didn't have to go if you didn't want to, I promise I didn't tell Tony you had to come, I know you don' like me-

"No, no baby no, stop" Bucky hushed you, his heart breaking when your voice cracked, rambling out apologies. His body moved on its own, wrapping his arms around you while you started to cry again, rocking you while holding you to his chest. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you have nothing to apologize for doll, nothing at all"

Bucky held you tightly while your body shook, feeling sick with himself for how he'd been treating you. You'd never been anything short of sweet and he'd made a point of always letting you know he couldn't care less. He lifted you in his arms, walking over to your bed, sitting down with you in his lap, ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

"I didn't mean to be so annoying" You shrugged, fidgeting with your fingers, the light that always made your eyes twinkle dimmed from Bucky's words.

"Y/n, please, no" Bucky whispered, pleading with you to stop. "Don't doll. It was never ever you, please let me apologize. I've been awful to you, you've done nothing wrong. You've always been an angel, sweets, it's me whose been an annoying asshole. I don't deserve your kindness but that's never stopped you from giving it to me when I least deserved it"

"You deserve kindness Bucky" you gave him a small smile, one that didn't meet your eyes and Bucky felt his eyes sting. Even when he was the one in the wrong, you were still comforting him with your sweetness.

"Y/n, I don't know anyone that deserves the sort of kindness you give. I don't know anyone that would deserve someone as wonderful as you. You're a light for everyone when its dark. I was a fuckin' idiot for everything I've ever said to you. That isn't an excuse for how I've been treating you doll, I know that. It's just- I've been awful to you and you've never done anything wrong. I'm truly sorry sweets"

"Its okay Bucky" You whispered, reaching up to wipe the tear that streaked down his face, your cheeks heating up when you realized you were still in his lap, "S-sorry, I didn't realize-

Bucky shook his head, holding you securely in his lap, not wanting to let you go.

"You have nothing to apologize for, pretty girl" Bucky shrugged, loosening his hold in case you wanted to get off but your doe eyes darted around instead, settling further in his lap. "You really are like sunshine"

"You're very charming, Sargent" you smiled bashfully while Bucky chuckled, his heart beating erratically in his chest when your hands came up to toy with the tags that hung around his neck.

"Would it-would it be if I kissed you?" He whispered shyly, blushing when you nodded, pressing his soft lips to yours. Bucky took his time kissing you, pouring every ounce of his feelings with soft touches, holding onto you like porcelain.

"Everyone's waiting for you sweets" Bucky gave you a gentle squeeze, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, hoping that you'd still want to go to your own party. "Would you like to go downstairs?"

You slinked off Bucky's lap to get ready, the soldier watching you with heart eyes the entire time you did your hair and makeup. He knew he had a lot to make up for, starting with the fact that he'd never hurt you again. He was still upset with himself for ever hurting you in the first place but he was ready to protect your innocent heart for the rest of his life. His breath hitched in his throat when you finished applying the last of your gloss, blushing when you slipped your hand into his so he could lead you down.

"Theres our cupcake!" Tony grinned when he saw you approaching, the rest of the team cheering making you giggle. Steve smirked seeing Bucky follow closely behind you in protective mode, keeping his hand around your waist. He spent the entire time, doting on you, following you like a lost puppy.

By the end of the night, he had you in his lap again, shamelessly looking at you with heart eyes while the rest of the team watched curiously, his sole focus on you.

"Happy birthday sweet girl" Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek while you nuzzled into him with a shy smile, "My little sunshine"

Now imagine Bucky doesn't quickly get over the fact that he was a dick. Sure you forgave him because you're an absolute sweetheart but Bucky can't even deal with the way he'd acted, especially when he had a crush on you the entire time and just refused to acknowledge it, acting like a cunt instead.

He's the most lovestuck boyfriend to ever exist. Your office is always full of fresh flowers. He's a clingy little puppy, outside of the medwing until your done, always finding excuses to sneak in and see you. You had to tell him a papercut wasn't a good enough reason for him to request your services.

Neither was a stubbed toe.

The time he nicked himself while shaving was the worst because he was pouty until you kissed him better.

He slips his dog tags around you, his possessive/jealous side occasionally sneaking out.

He doesn't even hide the fact that he's a simp for you, knowing he's the luckiest person on the planet to get the sweetest person in the world. He shows your off like no tomorrow, proud of the angel he gets to call his.

He absolutely loved his sunshine.

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cherryredstars · 4 months

Note

you know what season it is!!! back shots in a sundress with no panties!! i strongly request rich people private beach sex! boat sex! rich sugar daddy husband who is never really home but when he is he WRECKS your body!!

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara, Simon Riley, John Price x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, SugarDaddy!Characters, Simon isn't gentle in this one (sorry!)

A/N: My favorite season!!!!

Unedited

| SIMON "GHOST" RILEY: CAKE BY THE OCEAN

He can't help himself when his pretty baby is all dolled up for him.

You got that cute little sundress he bought you on, letting out little giggles every time the wind picks up and you have to hold your dress down like the better version of Marilyn Monroe. He doesn't understand why you do it though. You're the one who begged him to take leave so the two of you can spend the warm weather at the beach house, wanting to spend time on the private beach. Plus, if you really cared about decency, you wouldn't have left without panties. He thinks you're adorable, clueless to the fact that you've flashed him a handful of times already.

But maybe that's part of some secret plan you've been plotting. especially when you pout at him and demand he let you rub sunscreen all over his body.

I just don't want your scars to get irritated, Si.

He thinks your a fucking liar. How else would that explain the way you so willingly sprawl out on the beach blanket you've brought along, your bare ass exposed to him as your dress is bunched around your waist. In the sun, he can see your dripping cunt glistening with arousal. He fucking loves the pretty gasps you let out when the wind fans over your folds, a tiny plea for him to stop his teasing following after. His poor, spoiled baby, so desperate to have a different kind of fun at the beach.

He doesn't care for the beating sun burning his back as his thick cock slides through your puffy folds, more focused on the way your insides are a thousand times hotter. The only thing he needs coating his skin is your sticky arousal as it drips around his cock, a foamy ring of white forming at his base as he thrusts into you. He hates sand, but he doesn't mind the way it gets on the blanket as you pull on it, crying and hiccuping at him how it's too much.

"Si! It's too hot, I'm getting all gross and sweaty!" You sob out, teary eyes looking back at him.

He coos at your cries, giving your ass a hard smack before rubbing the pain away. You could have just told him you needed something to help you cool down. He's more than happy to help as he licks over your skin, his saliva coating your neck and shoulder blades. You taste like the sun and sweat, and he knows that after his he'll need to eat out that pretty pussy of yours to see how they add to your addictive taste.

He must have spoiled you too much, rolling his eyes as you start complaining about how sticky your skin feels with his spit drying on you. He shuts you up with a few punishing thrusts, only tolerating your incoherently wobbly moans and cries. He grits his teeth when he feels his high peaking, swiftly pulling out of you with a groan as he hot seed shoots onto your back. It darkens the fabric of your dress, pearly lines sitting on your sparkling skin.

Simon chuckles as you whine under him, his rough hands rubbing his cum over your skin in a thin layer.

"Gotta make sure your pretty skin is nice and coated, love."

His cum looks close enough to sunscreen, anyways.

| MIGUEL O'HARA: HANDS ON THE WHEEL

"Keep 'er steady, baby."

You only moan back in reply, your hands tightening around the wheel. Your hands are sweating from the sun's heat and from the heat radiating off of Miguel's body as he thrusts into you. The sound of your wet cunt is drowned out by the sound of the ocean, but Miguel is more concerned about the ocean of wetness that gushes around his cock. Your grip on the wheel has nothing on the vice grip your pulsating walls have on his cock.

His large hands reach up, his chest pressing against your sweaty back as his hands cover yours. He guides your hands slightly to keep the wheel straight, his thrusts not stopping. He's trying to teach you how to steer the boat through groans, and you only moan and whine in response as your mind gets consumed by the way his cock drills into you. Miguel curses when your grip on the wheel slips, your body falling forward as your orgasm crashes into you and the wheel spins quickly out of control.

His hand instinctively clasps around your neck to keep you from hitting your head on the wheel, making your back arch as he pulls you close to him as his other hand works to fix the wheel. His cock slips out of you, the ends of your fluttery dress pushing over his angry tip. He grunts as he thrusts his cock into your back, groaning as he spurts hot strings of pearly white dampen the back of your dress. You babble as you come down, feeling the wet parts of your dress starting to cling to your skin.

"Didn't I tell you that ya'gotta be careful while at the wheel, mi vida?"

Well, whose fault is that.

| JOHN PRICE: PRETTY HOUSEWIFE

This by far is his favorite part of coming home.

He loves getting home after a rough deployment, only to find his pretty little wife waiting dutifully at home for him. You treat it like a special occasion, making his favorite meals in that cute little apron and sundress that has his cock throbbing. You're so good to him. It's only right that he shows his appreciation with a good fucking.

He doesn't care if his hot plate of food is getting cold as he bullies his cock into your needy hole. You're so tight from not being filled with his cock for so long, your fingers not stretching you out the way his fat cock can. Your little moans and cries of his name are the only nourishment he needs at the moment. His pretty little wife takes him so well.

"Looks so gorgeous f'me like this, doll." John grunts at you, chuckling at the way your walls flutter around him.

This is by far the greatest way to be welcomed home, and of course he's gotta give you the first of many gifts he's got you while he was away. He groans low and deep as he shoots the build-up of cum that's been sitting painfully in his balls, watching as it gushes around his cock as your pussy gets stuffed full. You look so pretty sitting across from him in that sundress, trying to keep as much cum as possible in your snug cunt as he finally digs into his home-cooked meal.

No way in hell he'd let his seed go to waste.

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inkbybambi · 1 year

Text

bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

He's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. You weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"I don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"I wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

Actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

He trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

Six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as Price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

He rushes to your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side — not the trigger. The front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. He almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

Curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded at the nape of your neck as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

He knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. You jump a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "I didn't mean to wake you."

And you hadn't. You thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'S'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "You okay?"

The look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

He learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. More than once.

They never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where Simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. They didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"I had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "It didn't change anything."

Something shifts after that.

He starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. The bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects Simon's books. You give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your continue to watch queue.

He doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. You sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down as you start the series from the beginning.

Nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. You don't understand why. You were getting better, you cry in Simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"Sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently petting your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"Make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

He starts sleeping in your bed.

He's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. He presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

He starts taking the balaclava off at night.

A morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"G'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. A flash of heat snaps through you.

"Morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

He cradles the back of your head, fingers thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. He holds you so carefully, like glass, as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

The sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

He nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. You mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"Fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Say please," he rumbles.

"Simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

You're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

He usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. He eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

But with you? He feels feral with need.

"It's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, lips hovering over that sensitive spot on your neck that he sunk his teeth into earlier, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

You claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"It's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

He grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"Feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "Could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

You make a strangled noise low in your throat. It's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

The stretch feels so good, though. Your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"Fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

He swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"Think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. You would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"Yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

For a man of few words, Simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"Never had a cunt this perfect." "Fuckin' made for me." "Can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "No one else can have you." "You're mine."

And you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

You mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him, wanting to stake your claim. You'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"Simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his length and thighs.

"That's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. You feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"Wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, his need to sink his teeth into every inch of your skin overwhelming. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

You grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. He feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

The way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

No one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

Simon? Fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"Baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. The slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"Cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

He fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

You stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

Simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "Y'alright?" he asks. You swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

He slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. You push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"Fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

He spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

Time bleeds together.

His contract renews on the twelfth month.

He heard rumors that Price might switch him out for another guard.

You're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. Price has two separate folders prepared. A sharp look from Simon is all Price needed to know about how he feels. The tongue lashing you give your higher ups has Price raising his eyebrows, and Simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

He wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

Ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and I didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

You grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

His hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"Don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

Eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

He's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

There's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

He makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

He's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

You've never felt more secure, more protected.

Until —

He doesn't know how it slipped past him.

He let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. He admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. You look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

He hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. His eyes, though. His eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

You look one second too late.

Simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"Stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

You can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. Two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

Simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"You okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"Fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"You're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

You grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. You gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"Simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

He looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

Fuck.

At least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

Nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

While he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

The hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. He hated it then and he hates it now.

Price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping Simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while he recovers.

You've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. The nerve.

Twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. Some of them in your writing, the others in his. The keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"Why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. You're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. Never dreaming he could hear it like that.

A lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

He laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

Twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

You smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

It's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large German Shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

He feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. He touches his own subconsciously.

You set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at Simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

There's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

Riley.

#ink by bambi #simon riley/reader #simon riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x you #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #mondern warfare smut

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obsessedwrhys · 5 months

Note

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Text

maternal instinct II a.russo x reader

"you're sure you don't want us to stay? cook dinner? help unpack? provide general love and company? we're more than happy to lessi!" beth pressed as alessia smiled at her friends and now club teammates.

"yes. i promise i'll be fine, we've got tomorrow off and i'll unpack then. i love you all very much but i'm exhausted!" alessia chuckled tiredly as her friends nodded in understanding. "well call us if you need anything yeah? anything." leah pushed as alessia nodded, opening the door for them.

"do you want us to come over tomorrow night? i'll cook!" lotte offered making alessia laugh as they hovered by the door. even more of the girls having helped her alongside her family and the movers today alessia's social battery was nearing zero, so as much as she appreciated everyones love and concern, she really just needed the time to recharge.

"i will speak to you all tomorrow, goodbye!" alessia hinted heavily, her friends hugging her and finally taking off toward the elevators as the blonde stood in her doorway and waved them off as still they lingered for a moment.

her lips curled into a smile and she shook her head as leah was finally pulled into the elevator, hanging around as if alessia might change her mind, her hand shooting out to wave before beth smacked it back inside and the doors closed.

"rawr!" alessia jumped a foot in the air and slipped, crashing down to the floor with a groan and a wince. "oh my god isabella!" she heard an unfamiliar voice hiss as footsteps thumped over and a hand extended to help her up.

"i am so so sorry." alessia found herself speechless as she was pulled up and faced the new voice, met with a gorgeous stranger who looked as though she couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to alessia herself.

"she learned what a practical joke is at school last week and she thinks its hilarious to scare people, nearly gave the poor elderly gent four doors down a heart attack yesterday." the stranger sighed and thats when alessia noticed the tiny girl hidden behind her leg, peering out every now and then.

"its okay, really. i was born with two left feet so it doesn't take much for me to hit the floor." alessia joked, rubbing her tailbone which she was sure would be bruised tomorrow from the impact. "well i'm still very sorry, its hardly very welcoming when your new neighbours have you tumbling over to the floor, you just moved in today right?" the girl smiled kindly as alessia nodded.

"i promise its no problem, i'm alessia." the blonde held her hand out as you introduced yourself and shook it. "this is isabella" you nodded down to your five year old daughter hidden behind your leg.

"bella say hi and say sorry for scaring alessia please." you requested softly, hand gently guiding your daughter out from behind you as alessia squatted down, well aware her height wouldn't help the young girl feel any less intimidated.

"hi, sorry for scaring you." the girl mumbled, still clinging onto your leg as she glanced up at alessia with a shy smile. "thats okay, i've got two big brothers and i liked to scare them when i was your age too." alessia grinned, bellas smile widening at her words.

"its very lovely to meet you, i like your shoes." alessia pointed downward before shuffling a little so the girl could see she was sporting the same ones.

"woah your feet are huge!" bella gasped with wide eyes, bending down to poke at alessia's trainers making her laugh as you winced. "sorry! she's not got much of a filter, i'm working on it." you sighed with a small chuckle as alessia pushed up to stand again.

"hey honesty is the best policy right?" alessia joked kindly as bella continued to poke at her shoes and you gently pulled her away.

"well we'll leave you to settle in but welcome to the building! i'm sure we'll see you around alessia." you gave her another smile and turned back toward your own apartment, the blonde grinning as isabella gave her an enthusiastic wave before sprinting inside.

and indeed it wasn't very long before alessia saw either of you again.

"oh shit! no no no." alessia panicked, feeling around in her pockets and shaking her bag but coming up empty, suddenly having a vision of her keys where she'd left them on the counter this morning, too used to having them connected to her car key but not having gotten around to it with this new set just yet.

grabbing out her phone she called the building manager, huffing when it instantly went to voicemail and didn't even allow her to leave one. wracking her brain for what her next move could be she tapped her foot and flicked through her contacts, though no one would really be able to help her unless they were a locksmith.

so with a sigh she left her bag by her door and moved to stand in front of yours, raising her fist and knocking a few times. but when there was no answer she turned away assuming you weren't home, barely making it a few steps before the door clicked.

"alessia?" you called out curiously, the blonde turning with a sheepish smile. "i'm really really sorry to bother you, but i've locked myself out and i can't get through to mr brooks." alessia rubbed the back of her neck, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"he'll be playing poker, turns his phone off on saturdays. does anyone have your spare?" you chuckled, alessia shaking her head. "its still inside. with moving in and settling in at my new club and trainings and media appearances i haven't had a chance." alessia groaned, throwing her head back as you gave her a look of sympathy.

"look i'm well aware we were all taught about stranger danger in school, but would you like to wait inside? i've got a number for a good locksmith, he works weekends he might just take a few hours if he's got other jobs." you offered kindly, alessia stuttering out that she didn't want to be a bother.

"you wouldn't be, i promise. i just made lunch and there's more than enough for two." you assured, opening your door wider and gesturing for her to join.

"i don't bite! i promise." you joked, a smile curling onto the taller girls lips as she finally accepted the offer, grabbing her bag and stepping inside your apartment.

"bella's at her dads." you answered while dishing you both up a bowl, alessia not needing to ask but clearly noting the lack of your daughter. "alessia you can sit down." you laughed at how awkward she seemed, finding it quite endearing and a tiny bit cute.

"my friends call me less, or lessi." alessia clarified, leaving her bag by the door and taking a seat at your dining table. "we're friends already? maybe that stranger danger lecture hasn't sunk in for you." you teased with a grin, alessia's face blushing bright red.

"no! i didn't mean that sorry i just meant-" the blonde rambled as you placed the bowl of pasta down in front of her. "i'm only teasing, less." you smiled, taking a seat across from her and nodding for her to eat, the girl declining your offer of a drink.

"nah i just don't know if i can get over that." alessia denied with a firm shake of her head as you playfully swatted at her arm, the two of you now sat much more comfortably on your lounge getting to know each other.

"i was five! i didn't know any better." you laughed, snatching back the photo from her grip which showed a much younger you sat on your fathers shoulders at a liverpool game, jersey on and face painted.

"you can ask you know." you smiled knowingly as alessia's eyes hovered on a picture of you and bella when she was just a baby, bundled up in a bright blue blanket stitched with tiny pink flowers your mother had made.

"ask what?" alessia questioned with a confused frown. "about her, being a teen mum is interesting to everyone. you're just too polite to acknowledge it unlike most other people." you smiled as alessias cheeks flushed red, wondering if you had some sort of mind reading power.

"i didn't-i wouldn't want to-" alessia stammered out quickly. "you wouldn't, i promise. there's not much i've not been asked before really." you assured gently as alessia nodded, more as if to reassure herself than assure you.

"how old were you?" the blonde asked after a short pause had passed. "eighteen when i fell pregnant, nineteen once i gave birth. yes it was an accident, no i didn't know her dad before we got drunk and slept together. we were young and stupid, the condom broke and i told him it was fine!" you rolled your eyes at your own reckless decision.

"so he's..." alessia trailed off, clearly still feeling a little awkward which made you chuckle. "he's in the picture. he's a good guy and a good dad but like i said we didn't know each other. naturally he freaked out when i told him, i didn't hear from him for a few months but i also didn't expect anything from him." you shrugged.

"my parents were actually much more supportive than i thought. it took me the longest to tell them because i was scared but they promised no matter what i chose they'd support me, and it meant more than they'll ever know." you smiled softly at the memory as alessia hung off your every word.

"so he came back into the picture, his parents took a little more convincing but between all of us we came up with a plan before she was even born. we alternate weekends and given i work at her school and live closest to the doctors and our parents she lives with me most of the time, but he takes her on tuesday and thursday afternoons and we communicate when things don't work or if he wants to see her more." you explained as alessia nodded.

"that sounds really healthy." the blonde observed, leaning her head on her hand, elbow pressed into the back of the lounge. "did the two of you ever try and-" alessia clearly struggled to find the right words making you smile.

"we both just want whats best for her. we established pretty early on that we're absolutely not each others person but we are hers, and she comes first always." you answered as now alessia smiled softly, clearly seeing how much you cared for your daughter.

your conversation stilled as there was a few sharp knocks at the door clearly in some sort of intended pattern, and seeing the curious look on alessia's face you chuckled. "i'd love to say thats the locksmith but that'll be bella." you smiled, standing up to your feet and making your way over to the door.

you'd barely opened it a few centimetres before your daughter was wiggling her way through and crashing into you, tightly hugging your leg and making you laugh.

alessia watched on fondly from the lounge, a smile curling into her lips as she watched the interaction, a few words exchanged between your ex and yourself confirming arrangements for next week before bella noticed the new person on the lounge.

"big feet!" your daughter chirped in greeting as you closed the front door and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "bella! that is not her name." you told her off flashing alessia an apologetic wince who waved it off, grin on her face.

"why are you here?" bella asked curiously, climbing up onto the lounge and settling herself next to alessia, wiggling around to get comfortable. "i did something very silly and i locked my keys inside my house!" alessia smacked her hand against her forehead with a scoff making bella giggle.

"did your dad feed you or is the monster in your stomach hungry bel?" you called out, her head popping up over the back of the lounge. "mmm dad fed me. but not the monster, the monsters hungry!" bella announced as you hummed in understanding.

"and what is the monster hungry for?" you questioned with an amused smile. "alessia whats your favourite sandwich?" bella turned to the footballer beside her who looked caught off guard. "oh gosh um, ham and cheese?" alessia spoke out the first thing which came to mind.

"ham and cheese please! one for the monster and one for big feet." bella answered with a concise nod as you sighed at the nickname but found yourself relieved as alessia only laughed.

"so bella, tell me about this monster in your tummy. how on earth did it get in there?"

"snap! i win." bella cheered happily, jumping around with a grin as alessia groaned dramatically, collapsing back into the lounge with a playful frown.

"you are just too fast! i didn't even see your hand move. do you have super powers?" alessia tutted with a shake of her head as you smiled, admittedly melting at how easily she seemed to get along with your daughter.

"its cause the monsters brain and my brain mash together and make one huge brain so i'm really fast and strong and smart! but its okay you're not very good at this game." bella explained, patting the strikers knee apologetically for the loss making you laugh and alessia jokingly shove at your shoulder.

the game was interrupted by another few knocks at the door, bella climbing back onto the lounge to continue chattering away to alessia as you stood to answer.

"all fixed." you smiled as paul handed you the new key, seeing alessia's door had been opened. "thank you! i'll just go-" you turned as the older man quickly shook his head. "don't be silly love. i owed your dad a favour anyway, tell him its paid up." he promised as you thanked him and offered a tea or coffee, paul apologizing stating he'd have to leave, needing to run off to another job.

thanking him again you waved the man off and closed your door. "good news! you're in." you smiled, holding the key up as alessia exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "thank you so much, wait where did he go? i didn't even pay!" alessia panicked as you quickly reassured her it was fine.

"he owed my dad a favour, break in was free of charge." you teased lightly, handing her the key as the colour returned to her face. "thank you again, and for letting me potato it out on your lounge all afternoon. i hope you didn't have any plans?" alessia worried as you shook your head.

"none at all, really it was lovely getting to know you a bit better. bella and i haven't really met many people in the building, i know she can be...a lot sometimes." you put lightly, glancing at your daughter over alessia's shoulder where she sat on the floor making two of her dolls wrestle one another.

"no way, i wish i was half as cool as she is when I was her age." alessia laughed, hand squeezing your knee in reassurance before she stood. "but i should really get out of your hair. thank you for lunch too! i'd love to return the favour if you and bella would like to come over for dinner sometime?" alessia offered with a kind smile.

"we would!" bella answered before you could, appearing between the two of you suddenly with a grin as you rolled your eyes fondly. "well you're both more than welcome." alessia promised, bending down to isabella's height with a grin that matched hers.

"thanks for playing with me big feet!" alessia nearly fell backward as the five year old threw her arms around her neck in a tight hug before racing off and leaving you shaking your head after her as alessia pushed back up to her feet.

grabbing her bag alessia stepped outside as you gave her a smile so warm it nearly bowled her back over again, the blonde finding herself lingering on your doorstep despite her own apartment being a mere few feet away.

"um. could i maybe grab your number? so we can organise dinner!" alessia clarified quickly, her ears flushing pink as a hundred worries that she'd make you uncomfortable rushed to the forefront of her mind.

this wasn't like her, she didn't ask for strangers numbers and spend hours in their apartments and invite them over for dinner. and yet, here she was doing all of that and finding herself near praying you'd say yes.

"sure." you nodded happily, holding your hand out for her phone which alessia hurried to tug out of her pocket, unlock and and place down gently into the palm of your outstretched hand.

watching as you added in your number and handed it back to her, the two of you fell into a few beats of comfortable silence, exchanging a smile which seemed to be a wordless farewell.

"wait!" alessia paused as she was turning to head back to her own apartment, watching bella wiggle her way out of of the half closed door. "here." she held out a small pink and blue braided bracelet up to the striker.

"so you can put your key on it and wear it so you don't lock it inside again!" the five year old smiled, patting alessia's leg before racing off back into the apartment. "thank you!" alessia called out with a tender smile, sending you a nod which you returned with a soft smile before your apartment door closed and alessia turned to head into her own.

"and then you have to make sure there's lots of flour on the board." alessia instructed as bella nodded and you watched on with a smile, the two in your kitchen making both dinner and a mess.

the dinners had become sort of an unspoken routine, the first one at alessias house running so late that bella had wound up taking a much needed nap in alessia's spare room while the two of you spoke for hours and hours.

since then you found yourself in her kitchen or her in yours at least once a week, alessia one of the most patient women you'd ever met as she made sure to include your daughter in all of the cooking, keeping an eye nearly as watchful as yours on her energetic five year old sous chef.

you'd of course taken charge more than once and cooked for her, but you noticed that alessia genuinly enjoyed cooking for others, and you would always notice the clear joy in her eyes when you and bella clearly expressed how good her cooking was, your daughters tummy monster rapidly becoming her biggest fan.

"then we carefully use this little roller and we roll and roll and roll, and look! it cuts the pasta into little shapes." alessia explained, her hand guiding isabella's which was clamped around the tool, the girls face ablaze with wonder.

"woah! so cool." bella exhaled, eyes wide as you met alessia's gaze with a soft smile, your cheeks becoming a little warm as the taller girl sent you a wink and turned her attention back to your daughter.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't noticed that maybe you might harbour some more than friendly feelings for your blonde neighbour, but you were also very used to squashing these and compartmentalizing what your priorities were.

"does the monster want red sauce or green sauce?" alessia asked, pulling a face and making bella giggle from where she sat on the counter swinging her legs to and from.

"red." bella paused as if to consult with the imaginary gremlin inside her before deciding as alessia smiled at the sight. all it had taken was one joke that your daughters appetite must be because she had a monster living in her tummy and she'd ran with it, proudly telling everyone and anyone about her new best friend.

you left them to it and turned your attention to the report cards scattered across the dining room table, all that was left was to check you'd covered everyone in your class and sign it off and your weekend would be stress free.

what you failed to notice though was that as much as you'd sneak a glance at alessia every now and then with a soft smile, the moment you'd look back away she was doing the same, feelings which matched yours fluttering away in her stomach but unsure what to do about them.

the decision came later that night when bella had been tucked in and was long asleep, much to her demands that she should be allowed to stay up and join your 'girls night' because she was a big girl and she didn't have school tomorrow.

but with alessia saying goodnight and promising to come over on the weekend before hiding away in your bedroom occupying herself watching tv.

so thinking she now wasn't missing out on anything you'd then wrestled the five year old into bed and read her her favourite story, bella not even making it five pages in before her eyes drooped and suddenly she was dead asleep.

despite that you still read through the story cover to cover, having done so ever since she was little you weren't about to break the tradition now.

kissing her forehead and very quietly making your way out of the room, you closed her bedroom door with the most gentle click possible and exhaled, crossing the hallway to your own bedroom.

"we're safe!" you joked, knocking on the door frame as the blonde looked up from her phone. "what did i miss then?" you moved to sit beside her on the bed, both you and alessia watching the night agent together.

"another murder, loads of anonymous phone calls, nothing serious." alessia shrugged, whining as you smacked her leg. "who got murdered! thats not a detail to be skipped over russo." you clicked your tongue as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"maybe if you hadn't watched ahead and forced me to catch up, i might have been more forth coming with information." alessia shrugged pulling a face as you scoffed.

"i only watched ahead because you bailed on dinner last week!" you teased shoving her. "oh i am so sorry for being sick and not wanting to share germs, how horribly selfish of me." alessia gasped as you nodded. "i'm so glad you're finally seeing it from my point of view." you sighed, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides.

"no no no i'm sorry!" you begged, trying to push her off as her fingers attacked, poked and prodded at your sides. "less!" you laughed out, trying to shove her off as the two of you grappled, alessia now squealing as your hand poked at her ribs which were just as ticklish as yours.

"okay okay, truce!" alessia panted out, your body half on top of hers as your hands left one anothers bodys and you collapsed a little into her, both of you vibrating against one another with much more gentle laughter.

a silence fell between you as you pulled your head off of her chest, glancing down at her and finding yourself immediately sucked into the vibrant baby blue pools of her affectionate gaze.

alessia's own eyes also locked in with yours, suddenly becoming very aware of the close and pressed together nature of your bodies, the taller girl pushing herself up ever so slightly, noticing you didn't recoil away as her face was now mere centimeters from yours.

her eyes searched your face for any sign that you didn't want this as much as she did, coming up a little unsure unable to completely read your expression decided to just take a chance.

you weren't caught completely off guard at the sudden feel of her soft lips pressed to yours, but your breath did hitch slightly as her hands ever so carefully cupped your face, deepening it a little but not pushing things too far.

but that tiny adjustment in position was all it took for the alarm bells to ring in the back of your head and your walls to shoot right back up from where she'd spent weeks scaling over them and sneaking her way into your life.

so you pulled away and sat up, forcing your eyes away and missing how her face fell at your change in body language, regret burning her mouth like it was full of bitter ashes.

"i am so sorry, i should go." alessia managed out, sitting up as you caught the hints of insecurity in her tone and she quickly hurried out of your bedroom. "less wait!" you rushed after her and grabbed her wrist as she stood by your front door, heart feeling as if someone was squeezing it in their fists at the look on her face.

"i do like you, really. but i come with...a lot of baggage." you sighed out, alessia's face curving downward into a frown.

"i have a child alessia. bella is my life and i would never ever do anything to confuse or hurt her, and bringing people in and out of my life that aren't just friends can be really hard to understand at her age." you started, running a hand through your hair with another sigh.

alessia waited a moment to see if you continued, but when you didn't she took intitiative to speak up for herself.

"i'd love to say i understand that but i don't have a child so that would be a lie. but i know bringing someone romantically into your circle can be a lot, with or without other things going on-" alessia started softly.

"-but i really like bella. i wasn't lying when she said she is literally the coolest kid i've ever met, and looking at her mum its no wonder she is such a special, kind and loving little human being. but again, i can imagine that at her age it can be really scary to dangle someone in front of her that she bonds with and connects with and when things don't work out and they leave, how hard it would be to explain why." alessia continued sincerely, gaze locked with yours.

"i would never rush you into anything. obviously this is different than a normal relationship when there's a third parties feelings being taken into consideration, but i promise to never overstep with that, everything can be on your terms." alessia promised, a lump in your throat at the tenderness her words seemed to carry.

alessia found herself pulling you into a hug, your body melting perfectly into hers as you found a warmth blossoming in your chest as your face pressed into her shoulder, her strong arms holding you tight within them, chin hooking over your shoulder as she stood a head or so taller.

"i also really like you, and i've loved getting to know both you and bella. i'd love to see where this might go but i know there's more to think about than just you and i, so i promise i'm happy being friends too. just...think it over." at those words she let you go, tugging your door open and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before suddenly she was gone, only the lingering feeling of her lips against your skin all that was left.

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

I love your best friend with no boundaries James, and I was wondering if you could do one where James and reader are having their regularly scheduled mid-day naps, and Sirius and Remus walk into the dorm to find James just humping reader while they’re asleep? Maybe James and reader wake up to the GASP of horror from Sirius after his not so innocent eyes witness “straight up porn in their shared dorm where Peter of all people could witness”

I love all your works and was wondering if I could be marked as 😻anon? I’m the person who requested the bsf Steve imagine and I’m 100% gonna request something again because you’re perfect and I just wanna kiss you on the mouth🫶🏻🫶🏻

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Sirius considers himself James's best friend- no, brother, but he's not afraid to whack the man upside the head when he finds James grinding on you in his sleep.

"You-! Nasty-! Fucker-!" He bullies James awake, appreciating the much calmer, kinder way that Remus rouses you, tugging you away from James on the bed and murmuring that your nap is over. You blink your eyes open serenely, and James's shoot wide in pain as Sirius assaults him.

"What the fuck? Agh- Sirius! I know you're mad that I've got the better potions grade, but killing me won't help!"

"This isn't about potions, Potter," Sirius scoffs, "But I am thinking about tossing you in a hot cauldron. You were- eeugh, you were humping her, you animal!"

Your brows are furrowed and your blinks are bleary, but your brain catches up with the help of Remus's hands where they trace soothing circles on your back.

"Oh," You mumble groggily, as James groans with quickly reddening cheeks, "Uh- s'alright, Jamie."

Remus's hand stills on your back, but James and Sirius join in a fused indignant-confused "What?"

"S'just natural I guess," You shrug, "I dunno, I haven't- er, got one. But it was an accident, Jamie, you were asleep. It's alright."

James’s cheeks are still plenty rouged, but he nods sleepily at your forgiveness, relieved that he's not being hit by two people instead of only one.

"Yeah, thanks bird," He flops back down onto the mattress, letting out a sigh heavily infused with relief, "Wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know. Not while you're sleeping, that's- that's pervy."

"Some people like pervy," You hum, settling back into your own position in James's bed, though he's no longer curled around you. Sirius watches as you knock your hand against his own, "Sirius thinks I'm a perv."

"You're both pervs," Sirius grimaces, his lip curled in distaste as Remus stands from James's bedside, "Seriously, he eats off of your spoons, you've seen his dick, he's been grinding all over your ass - if you don't get a marriage license soon you're going to be very unpopular with the traditional crowd."

James turns towards you with a gasp, his eyes shining just the same as his grin does, "We could get married!"

"We should," You laugh, "And we could get a flat, and we could have your mother over for dinner every Tuesday."

"That would work." He nods, fully settled back into the pillows from Sirius's disturbance, "She loves you. And she's free Tuesday nights - her knitting circle ends at three."

"I know that," You scoff, barely biting back an overexaggerated eye roll, "James, I write your mother once a week. I know when her knitting circle is."

"You write my mum?" He rears back, momentarily confused, "She's never told me that!"

"Of course she hasn't," You snicker, "Because if you'd known, you would have stopped me from telling her how many times you get detention every week, and you'd want to share the sweets she sends me in exchange for the intel."

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months

Text

Just Friends

Or three times people mistake you and Jason as partners, and one time you let them think that on purpose. ~1.4k words

Jason Todd is your best friend. You just can't quite convince people of that. It happens more often than is good for your heart, people assuming that you and Jason are anything more than friends. Each time it makes your heart race, your face feel warm, and you have to remind yourself later that it isn't more, no matter if what you feel for him is.

"You two look at each other just like my husband and I did when we were young. It's so nice to see such a lovely couple." The elderly woman tells you and Jason kindly, voice warm as she pats Jason's arm. She's come up to the two of you while you were picking over the novels in the bookstore, eyes full of reminiscent memories.

Jason reacts quicker than you can, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. "We are, aren't we? Thank you, ma'am."

She beams at him, and you nod weakly along with his words. "So lovely." She mumbles as she walks away.

"Jason," You hiss quietly, "did you seriously just lie to that sweet old lady?"

"What? It made her happy." He counters, lazily smiling at you, still tucked comfortably under his arm.

You make a face at him and tut, moving to pull away. "Still a lie."

"Ah ah," Jason tuts back, and his grin becomes more playful, "gotta keep up appearances now."

You huff and duck your head to focus on looking for books, "Wouldn't have to if you weren't a liar." He laughs, and if your heart beats a little faster for the rest of the time you're in the store, neither of you mention it.

Jason is twirling you around the dance floor of the latest Wayne Gala, your favorite fancy outfit swaying with each movement. It's always fun, to dress up with him. It's not always so fun to hear Gothams elite talking about you.

"Isn't that the Wayne boy? Todd or something?" An older man asks, champagne in one hand.

"Hm? Oh, yes." The lady beside him responds.

"And his partner?" He asks, sounding completely uninterested.

"I can't remember their name. They've been together for as long as I can remember. Though, it is always lovely to see them, isn't it? It is so rare for the Wayne family to be all here." The woman answers idly, and you miss the rest of the conversation as Jason leads you away.

"Hey," He cuts into your thoughts when you miss a step, lost in thought over if all of Gotham thinks you're dating Jason. He pulls you a little closer to his chest to keep you from falling, fingers splayed over your back. "Where'd you go?"

His words bring you back to the present, and you look up to meet his gaze and lie, "Just thinking about how stuffy these things can get."

He clearly doesn't believe you, but doesn't press as he leads you around the dance floor, "Wanna go then?"

"No," You tell him, giving into the urge to rest your head against his chest, screw what anyone else thinks, "I like dancing with you."

He says your name so tenderly you nearly miss your steps again, "I like dancing with you, too."

"Todd, your girlfriend is here." Damian calls as he opens the door to Wayne Manor for you. You laugh a little, surprised but happy to see Damian making a joke about your arrival. You feel a little awkward sometimes, joining in on their family dinners, but Bruce assures you you're more than welcome. And Jason swears if you don't go, neither will he.

"C'mon on, Damian, you know Jason and I are just friends." You smile as you talk, voice light as you step into the grand mansion.

Damian frowns, "But Jason said–"

"Shut it, brat." Jason cuts in, practically bounding down the hall to get to your side.

He places a steady hand at the small of your back, shooting Damian a warning look as he guides you down the hall and to the dinner table.

The moment passes before you can ask about it, read into it. You're distracted by calls of your name and bombardments of excited questions from Jason's family as you enter the dining room.

Dinner is delicious, as always, and when you end up sleeping over in Jason's room for the night, clad in his extra clothes, you forget to bring it up.

Jason doesn't mind when people mistake him and his best friend for partners. In fact, he kind of loves it. It's good for you to hear, he thinks, because the more you hear it, the more used to it you'll become.

He knows you don't notice the way he looks at you, and he can't decide yet if it's because you don't believe he could look at you like that, or if you're choosing to ignore it for some reason beyond him.

Jason also knows that you like him. He just doesn't know if you're exactly aware of that fact yet.

He supposes it doesn't really matter, it's probably for the best you don't see how his face pinches when someone goes to flirt with you, how his shoulders tense and his skin pricks.

The guy that came up to you while he was grabbing your coffee orders seemed innocent enough at first, until he said something Jason didn't quite hear from across the room. But he did see the way you stiffened.

He's over at your side in an instant, one hand hooking around your waist to pull you securely against his side, balancing the tray of drinks and baked goods in the other. "Everything okay here, babe?" He drawls, eyes sharp. He wonders if you know that if you said the word, he'd jump this creep in this quiet, little Café right now.

He settles when you lean into him, and answer without a shake in your voice, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good." He says casually, taking the chance to trace his thumb back and forth across your hip. "This guy botherin' you?"

"No!" The stranger cuts in, clearly a little intimated.

'As he should be' Jason thinks before, lowering his voice to a threat and narrowing his eyes at the man. "I wasn't talking to you." His gaze and voice softens as he looks down to check on you. "Was he bothering you, baby?"

He can't help the smirk on his face when you actually seem to look proud. "Only a little, honey."

He has to actually force his eyes to leave your smile and look back at the man. "You bothering my date?"

The man steps back, "No– no, I mean, I didn't know they were with you– I– uh–" He stutters out, frantically looking between the two of you before turning and high tailing it out the door.

He nearly doubles over in laughter with you, careful to keep the drinks from spilling.

"That was kinda mean." You choke out between one giggle and the next, wiping mock tears from your eyes. He thinks it might be the nicest sound he's heard today.

"Eh, he deserved it for being weird to pretty girls in the coffee shop. What'd he say?" He says, reaching out to pick an invisible string from your hair. It's an excuse to keep touching you, and his eyes go fond when you lean slightly into his touch.

"Just something about taking me out for a drink," You answer, laughing while you grab your drink from him. "You're sweet, you know that?"

"Only to you." He says, eyes following your movements.

You hum, noncommittal. "You're sweet to other people, sometimes."

Jason laughs, hooking your free arm with his, "Sometimes," He relents, guiding you both out of the shop and back into the street, "But, I'm sweetest to you."

Pride blooms in his chest when you light up at his comment, "You should keep at that."

He grins, and swears to himself he will. "I'll keep that in mind, doll."

It's a little thrilling, how when you have to unhook your arms to walk the crowded streets of Gotham, you take his hand. He squeezes your fingers, and it's satisfying that it's so easy to mistake you as his, especially in this moment.

He'll bring it up to you eventually, the idea of being more, but he's content with easing you into it, with watching how you try to make excuses for why everyone believes that you're together. How you try to convince yourself you aren't more. But, you are more to him, so much more. You always will be.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #best friend jason todd

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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

Note

i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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feyascorner · 9 months

Text

wish you would look at me

summary. convinced that you’re in love with another, when you approach him with a serious expression, he readies himself for the inevitable—rejection. but is it ever that simple?

pairing. astarion x GN!reader

warnings. light angst, fluff

a/n. this is inspired by the ppl who have love triangles w gale and astarion in act 2 and what he says if you pick him bec when I saw that I almost cried pls let him be happy

If you asked him a few weeks ago, he’d laugh at the mere suggestion that he could ever be jealous of someone like Gale. That blasted wizard couldn't go four steps before begging for a magical shoe or pathetically limping his way behind the rest of the group while you frantically searched for the said shoe. And when he found out the wizard was a few errors away from exploding, somehow Astarion felt even more pity (not really) for the lad.

Yet here he was.

He’s not sure when the hell you and Gale had gotten so chummy, but it rubbed him the wrong way. Even if his expression would never show it. He sips at his wine while Karlach and Wyll continue to chat about God knows what, too busy peering from the corner of his eyes as you lean into Gale’s shoulders to look closer at the book he was holding.

Perhaps the tadpole had finally made you lose your mind. He'd almost dropped his goblet when you denied his invitation to his tent tonight, spouting the excuse that you'd asked Gale to help you with something, and now this?

God knows why you ever found the wizard charming. If Gale could do something, he could too—much better, in fact. He was sure of it.

His grip tightens around the goblet when he hears you laugh.

Sure, his original intentions for approaching you had been less than noble…and he might have seduced you for more selfish reasons than you originally knew, but as much as he hated himself for it, he'd grown rather fond of you. In his own way, of course.

He’d only realized that the anxious squirming in his stomach was not of fear but of affection when you'd defended him from that vile drow at Moonrise Towers. He'd half expected you to ask him to throw himself at her, yet you stood your ground, showing nothing but respect to his own boundaries while you failed to realize that he'd deceived your own.

He truly had no reason to feel this way. He was selfish, he knew, for feeling so possessive because not once had the two of you established being exclusive. Though you'd respected him, you saw him for just that. A friend to respect, and nothing more. Sure, you'd spent a few nights together, but it was a mindless night of passion and he knew he'd continue to be your fling until you found another to truly love. He had just hoped it wouldn't be someone like Gale, of all people…or Wyll…or Shadowheart…or anyone for that matter.

He shakes his head. The wine must be getting to him. Serious relationships aren't a luxury he can afford, he reminds himself, relaxing his shoulders. He’s perfectly okay with being your ally—nothing more or nothing less. Ecstatic, even.

But when Gale flips a page of the book and both of you lean closer again—this time dangerously close—he feels a sharp pain shoot up his hand.

“Uh, Fangs, you alright there?” Karlach stares at the cracked glass in his hand and even he blinks at it in disbelief.

Apparently not.

He sighs irritably, dumping the glass elsewhere. “I’m quite alright. Seems I just need a nice comfortable mattress than a thin bedroll on the ground, but it’ll do for now.”

“Need help patching that up? You're bleeding.”

He almost laughs, if it weren't for the giggle coming from your direction. “Blood’s my specialty, darling, remember?” Without another word, he paces into his tent, closing the flap behind him for the universe signal that screams ‘don’t bother me.’

So when half an hour later, when he no longer hears the crackle of the campfire, he sees your shadow emerge from the other side of his tent flap, he squints.

“Can I come in?” He fails to respond, and hears you shuffle. “Ah, are you asleep?”

At this, he can't help but snort. You instinctively peek inside, and he runs a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. “If I'd been asleep just how would I answer that question?”

He motions you closer and you take it as a sign to step inside, careful to avoid stepping on any of his belongings before situating yourself in front of him. “It was rhetorical, obviously!”

“Of course,” he doesn't seem convinced, lips curling into a teasing grin. “Now tell me, what brings you to my palace this late at night? Surely not for a cuddle. I'd thought you declined my offer earlier?”

Usually, you'd smile, but instead you only look down at your clasped hands, seemingly in thought. “I needed to talk to you—without everyone else watching.”

The usual brightness to your tone is missing.

Oh, he thinks. You've come to end things with him.

“Ah,” is all he says. He can tell his smile hasn't dropped, but it doesn't feel that way. “I hear you've found a new lover. Perhaps you want to keep yourself for this one, true love? How romantic, darling.”

You frown at this, and he wonders if he’s done something wrong. But it does little to stop his defense mechanisms from springing into action, because he’s immediately slipping into his usual mask, grin stretching wider but never reaching his eyes.

He hates the words coming out of his own mouth as if they taste of poison. Still, his voice is steady, almost teasing. Perks of the 200 years spent shamelessly lying, he supposes. “So, is this the end of our late night trysts? Even though they were an awful lot of fun?”

He doesn’t think he could stand watching you with that damned wizard. He doesn't even want to think about it quite frankly, because all he feels is his chest tighten when he imagines someone else holding you the way he does. And gods, if had to watch Gale’s poor attempt at flirting one more time…

But then again, you'd be with someone who doesn't manipulate you. Someone who doesn't toy with your feelings, or someone who doesn't seduce you for protection.

His smile twitches, and he just braces himself for your response.

“I’d rather be with you.”

He stares at you, eyes wider than its ever been since he'd gotten this damn worm in his brain.

“What? Why?” he blurts, embarrassingly so, before he composes himself again and clears his throat. “I mean, well, I know why—but I thought you'd had something more…with Gale.”

As much as he despises the idea, he'd seen the way you'd laughed with him. And while it was a new experience for him to be fond of another person, he'd found that these feelings had led him to rather you be happy than dragging you down with him. If it meant you wouldn't regret your choice, he’d been willing to deal with it.

So why?

“I want something real with you, Astarion,” you say softly, eyes meeting his. “I don't know if you feel the same way, but Gale and I are better off as friends, and I told him before I came here. And besides, it’d be cruel of me to lead him on while my heart is with another.”

He thinks he might have died again just now. For the first time in decades, he’s actually at a loss for words. “I—if that's what you truly want—we can try. Be lovers, I mean.”

You finally smile at his words, and Gods above if that doesn't lift the excruciating weight of the past few weeks off his shoulders. He feels the warmth of your lips when you lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek, everything happening so fast that his mind is spinning. He snaps back into focus when you pull back.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You could have—should have, done it earlier. With a smile of his own, he leads you back to him, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. It’s short, and not nearly enough, but it’ll do for tonight.

“Well then, consider yourself wholeheartedly taken then, my dear.”

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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