#please don’t take this down I need my shame on display

[frutiflux]

Thank you anon in my box. I cannot look at him without crying. Katagawa fans where are you.

[girlkisser13]

size kink with jason todd

pairings: jason todd x fem!reader

warnings/tags: smut (18+), size kink, unprotected sex (practice safe sex guys), degradation/dumbification, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, creampie

divider by @plutism

he’d be lying if he said that his self control was still at it’s peak. jason had been teasing you for ages now, watching the way your pretty cunt clenched around nothing every time he drew his fingers away.

“jason,” you choked out another mewl, desperate fingers scrabbling for him. “please, please. i need you!”

a gentle hand brushes away the tears that had collected at the edge of your vision as jason’s beautiful eyes fill your gaze. a color so blue that it looked like someone had captured the brilliance of lightning flashing within his eyes.

“you look so pretty like this,” he hums, a smile gracing his lips when he sees your eyes roll back. “all desperate for my cock huh? what happened to the shy little maiden back then?”

she was gone, long corrupted by him. not that he was complaining.

he leans back between your spread legs, eyeing your exposed folds with a sort of hunger that had you trembling. “look at you,” he sighs, stroking his cock at the intoxicating sight before him. “all spread out for me to enjoy. it’d be a shame if i left you hanging like this wouldn’t it?”

“no!” your reaction was instant, a sharp pitiful noise of desperation at the thought of him leaving you hanging.

“just kidding.” he grabs your thighs to drag you closer to him. “since you asked so nicely hmm?”

there is an audible sound of pleasure torn from the both of you when he finally teases the head of his cock against your dripping slit.

yet, the thrumming anticipation is accompanied by the familiar sense of fear that flashes in you when you glimpse the sheer girth and length that has your eyes tensing shut.

no matter how many times jason had fucked you, his size still had your nerves jangling uncomfortably.

sensing your anxiety, his large hands shift from your cheek to cup your face as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your parted lips, briefly savouring the sugary sweetness that came with the kiss.

“relax baby,” he hushes, but there is a visible sight of feral excitement that lines his smile at the thought of sinking himself into your tight heat.

you can’t help but squeal when he buries himself into your spasming cunt, your sensitive walls fluttering over every ridge and vein of his cock that has him groaning.

“cumming already?” he asks, as if he couldn’t see your cute cunt creaming around his length. you can feel the laugh that rumbles through his broad chest.

too embarassed to reply, you nod, fingers finding their way to close around his wrists.

“you’re taking me so well” jason coos, one finger reaching to roll your puffy clit, earning him a shuddered jolt through your body.

he pins you down with ease, barely exerting any effort at all. “good girl, taking my cock so well, guess this pussy was really made for me right? maybe i don’t even have to play with your clit anymore, you’re going to squirt like a little whore for me anyway.”

grunting, jason buries himself deeper, thighs trembling at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him. you sniffle at the stretch but make no move to stop him from rocking further until his entire length is buried inside of your tight hole.

the feeling of being stuffed draws a sharp gasp out of you, your back arching, putting your tits on full display. when you catch sight of jason, his eyes are blown wide, pupils so blue that you could get lost in them.

you’re nearly half delirious at the feeling of his warmth sheathed inside of you, barely able to keep your eyes open when jason starts to move.

he weighs you down and humps your tender cunt, making sure to hit your sensitive clit every time his hips meet yours over the obscene sound of his balls slapping your ass.

you can feel your orgasm rising each time he pushes forward, the pain of his cock knocking against your cervix blends seamlessly with the pleasure when he rubs against your sweet spot.

“does it feel good baby?” he huffs in your ear.

“it feels so good, jay!” you nod, “please, give me more!”

he feels you getting wetter and wetter, knowing the way your tight little body trembles when you’re reaching your orgasm.

“jason,” you gasp, tears clinging to your lashes when you reach your climax. your fingernails dig crescent moons into his skin. he grins at your face, morphed into a completely lewd painting of euphoric pleasure.

“you came so fast,” he pants, quickening his pace. “what about me?”

“i’m sensitive,” you try to stop him with a pathetic whine, small hands pushing against his chiselled chest so weakly that he laughs at your efforts.

“stay still baby,” he groans when he feels your cunt clamp down around him again. you would be the death of him one day. “i’m going to ruin this pretty pussy of yours.”

who are you to deny him? you finally lay back against the pillows, letting him fuck you like he wants to as he presses your knees against your chest to assault your poor cunt as you gush everywhere, making a mess on the bed.

jason has a perfect view of your cunt, the sight of your small figure underneath him and the way your hole is stretched to accomodate around his cock only spurs him on.

you are so cute this way. letting him stretch you past your usual limit, your tits bounce with each thrust and jason can’t resist placing one of your tits in his palm, relishing the softness of them in his touch.

he can feel the plush resistance when he jackhammers into you, forcing another orgasm out of you until you’re reduced to a babbling mess with your tongue hanging out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back in that adorable expression he absolutely loves.

“f-fuck.” he feels his own coil of pleasure snapping in him as he succumbs to his own orgasm at the way your gummy walls clamp down around his throbbing cock. “you’re gonna take every drop of my cum in your pussy,” he growls, refusing to pull out until he sees you nod weakly.

“good girl.” he groans, finally satisfied of his own high before leaning down to occupy the space beside you.

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.7

07 : APOLOGIES & COMFORT

CHPT. SUM. : sirius and remus are both very stubborn and need you to help them make amends, thankfully james is there

REQUEST. : could i request a hurt/comfort blurb with poly!marauders in the heroes in tattoos series where r is having really bad cramps and they comfort her- maybe when they're busy with clients and she doesn't want to disturb them but they notice? - requested by an anon (i had to make some tweaks, i hope you don't mind, my darling)

TAGS. : modern au, muggle au, tattoo artist!sirius black ; tattoo artist!james potter ; piercer!remus lupin ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; mvp james ; james becomes a menace though so is he really the mvp? ; wolfstar fluff ; making up ; reader is also an mvp ; accidents happen ; period things~ ; remus is on the brink ; somebody save this man! ; no! somebody save reader from this man! ; assumes that reader does not take medication to regulate her periods ; assumes that reader wears sanitary pads for her periods

LENGTH : 4.3k

← PREV. : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES | SERIES M.LIST

“Sirius…” Remus sighs as he sits across from you and the man in question. 

“If you have a problem, I hope you know that I don’t care,” you feel the tattooist smirk against your temple as he presses another searing kiss into your skin. The tension from the room hasn’t fully dissipated yet, however, most of the fiction was swept aside leaving the air clear enough for a more civil conversation. 

With Sirius’ insistence, you were left no choice but to sit in his lap as Remus sits across from you. This left James to sit all on his lonesome, occupying the grandfather chair to your left as a warm smile reveals his asymmetrical dimple, directed solely at you. 

Remus groans in frustration and stands to his full height in order to pull his sleeveless sweater off. Sirius peppers light kisses along the column of your neck but it isn’t quite enough to distract you from the image of Remus undoing the top buttons of his button-up shirt nor the way he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows - a weak attempt at trying to cool down from the heat of the previous encounter. 

You’re tempted to look down once again but are too embarrassed to do so; the images that pervade your mind are too inappropriate and they taint the gentle and kind image you have of Remus… Although, maybe that isn’t too bad. A gentle giant masking an indelicate second face was quite attractive in your eyes. Maybe he’ll finally suit the rouge-ish image that comes to mind when you take in his many tattoos, which were often suppressed by his soft, dark academia-inspired fashion. 

Massaging away some of the tension in his taut wrists, his large and veiny hands on full display, Remus sits back down with a frown, “This is a fucking mess—”

“—you’re a fucking mess,” Sirius shoots back, a mischievous hint in his tone as the heat in your cheeks continue to increase until you’re positive you have steam steadily rising out of your ears. 

“This is serious, Sirius,” Remus calls his name almost mockingly and the icy stare Sirius sends him in return is so icy you feel the chill run down your spine without having to look. 

“Oh, I am serious, don’t you know who I am?” before the tension could rise to dangerous levels again, you launch yourself off of Sirius’ lap, willing the butterflies from your stomach away and suppressing all imagery of the affection Sirius was just drowning you. It was his attempt at distracting you from the tense situation but you’re fed up of it now. It also breaks your heart seeing them like this when you know their true affections for one another.  

“That’s enough!” you stand as strong as the finality ringing in your statement, “you two need to make up!” Remus and Sirius face the point of your accusing finger with disgruntled expressions, “I thought you two loved each other,” your disappointed tone makes their shoulders sag in shame and their eyes avoid one another’s. 

“Dove, please—”

“—Listen…” the careful intonation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed and wills them to hear you out with care, lips sealed shut, “you were both right — you both had good reason to act the way you did and I can’t blame either of you for wanting to steer things into a certain direction but I’m also to blame for this, okay? I was horrible at communicating my true emotions and that led to a lot of unnecessary heartache on both sides,” with a deep breath, you establish your resolve, “can’t we all just make up and move forward together?” everyone in the room knows that when you said ‘we’, what you really meant was just Remus and Sirius. 

James has been an absolute angel throughout all of this, collateral damage to their bickering and unloving behaviour towards each other; stuck between a rock and a hard place. You only have sympathy for him being caught up in the middle of it all.  

“Dove, it’s not—”

You swiftly interrupt, “I love all of you,” your confession makes them all stutter and flush pink in the cheeks. It’s an image that makes you smile warmly just before insecurity creeps over and your smile turns shy, “don’t… don’t you love me too?…” it was now clear in their actions that they reciprocated your romantic affections and so you weren’t wrong to assume that they wanted you to take part in their relationship…right?

The drawn out silence that followed was too much for you to bear. Even after taking some of the blame off their shoulders and confessing your love, they were still too stubborn to admit their wrongs and make up. Huffing, you make your disappointment and frustrations known with a deep frown, thoroughly concealing your heartache from their silence .

“We just need—” Sirius finally begins, stubborn as ever, only to be glared at harshly by both, Remus and James. This was not the right time for excuses. You had just worded your true feelings for them and they needed to reciprocate in kind. But those words were hard to come by, the timing for a confession also wasn’t ideal for the moment. Then again, when would it ever be. They’ve all just proven how incompetent they were at emotions despite being in such a loving relationship, and yet, you were still willing to accept and be with them romantically. The words they have for you reached beyond that of just love; they were also grateful, astonished and embarrassed for their incompetence. 

“I love you too, angel, so so much,” James finally speaks up, eyes bright and his smile warm with his adoration of you. He ignores the high tension in the room, eyes fixed solely on you as he glowed like the summer sun but he doesn’t reach out for you in any way, he simply sits and admires. Admires how beautiful you look, admires how strong you are, admires how loving and sweet you remain despite all the trouble and anguish they’ve put you through.  

You feel the world disappear around you and narrow your focus onto the only person you were grateful for in the room at that moment. Year heart pounds with warmth and devotion and all you want to do is be close to him. Helping yourself into James’ lap, you smile up at the bewildered look on this handsome face, “Oh James, you’re my only saving grace,”

James smiles at your words as his arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place, “yeah?” his voice is a faint whisper and airy with his adoration for you. 

“Yeah,” reaching up, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him close so you can press your face under his chin. Behind you, you feel the baffled attention of Sirius and Remus, “how about I feed you some lunch again? Like we always used to do?”

Without waiting for an answer, you lean over to swipe up one of your lunch containers and proceed to feed him, completely ignoring the grumbling and whining emitting from Sirius and Remus. 

“I like your thinking, angel,” James giggles adorably and happily accepts your affections as the two of you silently agree to ignore the other two until they make up. In the mean time, you’ll enjoy each other’s company in your own little bubble of love. 

“How does it taste?” you ask sweetly, blatantly ignoring Remus and Sirius, sitting side-ways on James’ lap but keeping your full attention on him. 

“Delicious! More than delicious!” James exaggerates and basks in the bell-like giggles he draws from you, he doesn’t want the sound to ever stop, “You’re always such a great cook, angel!”

“I made it all with love, just for you, Jamie~”

He hums low and appreciative, “I’m so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” 

As you continue to feed him, James takes the opportunity to look over your shoulder and smirk at the miserable faces of his two lovers. They know they deserved this unfair treatment. They also know that, to remedy it, all they have to do is abandon their pride and apologise, which is always worth it when your love is on the line — it should be easy for them. All things considered, this was just light punishment.

Faced with only one solution, Remus and Sirius turn to each other. Sirius still grumbles under his breath as Remus sighs. The brunette accepts that it was entirely his fault for pushing Sirius to suppress his natural way of loving just for his own personal fear that things would turn out horribly, otherwise. And judging from the way Sirius avoids his eyes and continues to whine, Remus knows it’s up to him to make amends. 

‘But it’s not so bad’, Remus smiles to himself; seeing one of his beloved partners grumpy and stubborn was oddly charming. And now that most of the conflict has dissolved, Remus had no other reason to hold back an apology other than for his own personal pride. 

Making his way over, Remus kneels down beside his grumbling lover and whispers his name affectionately, “Sirius,” Remus waits, patient and unhurried, until his beloved in question finally looks at him. As soon as they meet eyes, Remus is left thinking the same devoted thought he’s always had when drowning in his boyfriend’s diamond-grey eyes, ‘how did I get so lucky?’ which is then quickly followed by a guilty, ‘why did I ever let it get this far?’

“Remus,” 

“I’m sorry,” the piercer doesn’t wait for a response and, almost desperately, leans up to capture Sirius’ lips. The kiss is filled with emotions, a mix of sincerity, love and forgiveness. The sentiments were so keen they almost smother the murmured, unspoken words on Sirius’ tongue, “what was that, love?” Remus asks against his lover’s lips, unable to pull away fully. He missed this…

“I’m sorry too…”

It was a unanimous decision to have you spend the night at the boys’ shared flat. They’ve been kept away from you for too long and tonight they wanted to make up for lost time. High on emotions and desperately missing their presence in your life too, you agree as long as you dropped by your place first for a change of clothes. But not before having Remus and Sirius apologise to James for their neglect of him. 

“You know, we really are so happy to have you in our lives, dollface,” Sirius utters, leaving feathery kisses on your lips as he pushes the door to their flat open whilst carrying your duffle bag for you. He was kind enough to take you to and from your flat on his motorcycle just for the quick collection of your night time essentials. 

“I’m happy you’re in my life too, Siri,” the situation has finally dawned on you but you still can’t believe the events that have lead you to this very moment. 

“Stop hogging her, Padfoot!” James whines, sweeping you off your feet and hurrying to the living room with you in his arms. Once there, he sits you on his lap triumphantly, “Aha! You’re finally mine!” he cheers and attacks your neck with a flourish of kisses, tickling you and infecting the air with your melodic giggles. 

“Now you’re hogging her Prongs, stop being a hypocrite!” Sirius pants lightly after rushing to the scene from the hallway, a grin plastered on his lips despite his accusing words. 

From the kitchen, Remus smiles to himself at the sounds of merriment in the air and continues to cook dinner. 

This is how it should be…

Remus wanted to sort the conflict with Sirius out more, so he insisted that you spend the night in James’ bed which you happily agree shyly, James grinning widely at your side. All three of you agree as Sirius whines and makes adorable grabbing motions at you but it’s no use as Remus keeps the tattooist pressed tightly against his side, dragging him off and trapping him in his room for the night. The sight made you giggle but it was a brief reprieve from the anxious nerves that soon had you avoiding James’ eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” James whispers affectionately at your shy behaviour, resisting the urge to kiss you as he leads you to his room and gestures to his en suite, “you can change in there, beautiful, I can change out here and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink instead,” 

With a small smile, you move past him with your duffle, eager to get ready for bed but squeal in surprise when you feel a teasing pinch at your ass. An explosion of heat blooms across your cheeks when you glance over your shoulder and observe James’ sly wink and devious smirk directed at you. 

“James—!”

“Angel with a cutest ass, aren’t I a lucky bastard?” he chuckles and presses a devoted, almost possessive, kiss onto your lips, “I never did say thank you for making those two apologise to me,” he purrs and nips at your bottom lip, “you make me feel seen…god, I love you so much,” you squeak into the fierce kiss that follows, almost losing yourself in the embrace but pry yourself away with a squeal when his hands travel too low and squeeze greedily at your ass. 

You rush into the bathroom with butterflies in your stomach as James licks his lips and laughs merrily. He’s come to love teasing you and you didn’t know whether to argue or welcome it with open arms. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move on to change into your pyjamas - an oversized shirt and shorts - before proceeding with your night time skincare routine. For a moment, you contemplated taking a shower but rule against it, not wanting to prolong your night time routine. No more than fifteen minutes later, you were out of the en suite bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed but giggle at the sight of James already tucked under the covers. He looks so cosy and innocent, it almost makes you forget about his devious behaviour earlier on. 

“All ready?” James asks with his usual boyish grin and sits up, allowing the covers to drop from his chest, at which point you quickly realise that James is a liar. He didn’t need to change into anything! All he did was take off his shirt and he was all set for bed! “I changed into comfier pyjama pants, though,” he argues lightly as you slip into the right side of the bed. 

“That’s just half changing!” your retort has him laughing aloud, your flustered state beyond amusing and incredibly adorable in his eyes.

“Am I making you shy, princess?~”

“…No,”  

“Oh yes I am~”

“Go to sleep, James,”

“Not without a goodnight kiss from my angel,” he leans over you with his naked chest on full display and you stutter in embarrassment, “don’t be shy, come and give me a fat smooch~” he puckers his lips above you and awaits your compliance with closed eyes. 

“James—”

“I’m a very patient man, darling, I can do this all night long,”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am,”

“You’re not,”

“I am,”

“Not!”

He finally peaks an eye open. Then slowly opens both eyes as he un-puckers his lips to smirk down at you, caged in between his muscular arms as he props himself up with his elbows, “You just like staring at my beautifully muscular chest don’t you?” you watch as his ego inflates to dangerous levels right in front of you, “My tattoos turn you on too, angel?~”

“Oh for goodness sake!” you finally relent and lean upwards, your smile matching his own when you finally capture his lips in his much desired, goodnight kiss. With one arm holding himself up, James uses his spare hand to hold your face in place, prolonging the kiss. You have no choice but to accept his needy demands as your hand searches his bedside table for his lamp switch. 

Morning comes with you groaning in discomfort as a syrupy wetness coats your inner thighs and painful pangs make you want to curl up into a ball. Your bleary morning fog makes the situation difficult to decipher but the realisation soon comes crashing down like a landslide and you lift the covers with a scream, the scent of iron becoming more potent. Beside you, James jumps awake, fully alert as his worried, hazel eyes scan you, trying to discern what may be the problem. 

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep but dripping in concern.

“James, I’m so sorry,” you sob into your hands  and curl up into yourself, hiding your face away from him. 

“What do you mean?” he reaches forward, inching closer to you in the process and quickly realising what’s wrong when he feels an unusual wetness seep through his thin pyjama pants, “oh angel, don’t be upset, it’s okay,” he coos, gently prying your hands away from your face so he can kiss your forehead tenderly, “it’s normal. Are you okay?” he asks softly, looking over you without an ounce of judgement or anger on his face, only concern and soft, kind, heart-fluttering love in his eyes. 

“Th-the blood—”

“I don’t care about the blood,” he insists gently, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” you remain silent from the embarrassment but he’s understanding, “do you want me to get you some painkillers?”

As soon as you give an affirming nod, he’s out of bed and hurrying down the hall. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back to you, a glass of water in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other. 

“Thank you,” you finally utter with a small smile, still upset at having ruined the sheets but so incredibly grateful for his tolerance. Patiently, he waits for you to take your dosage before he’s sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you into his en suite. 

“Get cleaned up, angel,” he voices into you hair before placing you back on your feet, “I’ll change the sheets in the mean time,” he leaves you with a kiss before you could utter another word of apology. He wasn’t going to take it, he made that very clear, because it wasn’t your fault. And it was nothing a little oxi stain remover couldn’t fix. 

The start to the day wasn’t ideal but James, Remus and Sirius made one of the most agonising and frustrating times of the month for you much more enjoyable. James woke his two lovers up while you were showering in his bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that you bought a spare change of clothes just in case you wanted to shower, and they all made the effort of getting you comfortable. 

James changed his bedsheets and laid a dark coloured towel down for you to lay on top of just to catch any more potential leakage. He made sure you didn’t see his bloodied sheets again too so that you wouldn’t continue feeling guilty and happily took care of the stains away from your line of sight. Sirius worked on breakfast as Remus made you some tea and a hot water bottle and, before James steps out of the flat to buy you period pads, you hear Remus call out helpfully, “look for the long, heavy flow pads and make sure to get the ones with wings,” their thoughtfulness makes you smile. 

“How did you know to get these ones?” you ask when James comes back, panting as he hands you the pack of pads through the door of his en suite. 

“Remus told me, and I heard girls experience heavier flows on the first few days,” his answer draws out a proud smile. You have no doubt you’d be well taken care of in this relationship, though it does make you bashful. 

“Thank you, James,” 

For breakfast Sirius cooked you french toast with strawberries and honey, apparently it was the only good thing he could cook. Remus balanced the sweetness of the meal out with some eggs and toast, while James brought over the tea and hot water bottle Remus had also prepared. Breakfast was pleasant but they boys were insistent that you stay in James’ bed and call if you needed anything. As much as they wanted to spend the full day right by your side, they were preparing to make the announcement of returning their business into full operations and were still taking calls and responding to client emails at home. You didn’t argue, you knew the shop was important to them so you didn’t want to be a burden. 

The day drags by and you know they’ve made it clear that you could freely call out to them whenever but the hours drag by and they haven’t heard a single peep. They didn’t mean to lose their full attention in their work; it’s been so long since they were last filled with the motivation to keep up with their business that emails and paperwork on equipment orders had piled up significantly so they were swamped. Thankfully they were finally inspired enough that the work didn’t feel laborious. Unfortunately, that meant seeing them in their element though James’ open doorway and shying away from redirecting their attention back to you. 

It wasn’t until you willed yourself to walk to their kitchen that you finally caught their attention. All phone calls, email responses and paperwork filing was stopped as soon as you stepped into their line of sight when your craving for a snack became too much. They had gone for a quick shop to buy you an array of snacks from sweet to savoury that morning and had left the bag on their kitchen counter. You were just reaching for the bag when Remus caught your wrist and swept you up into his arms in order to carry you back into James’ bed. 

All three of them felt incredibly guilty for having neglected you, unintentional or not, they even neglected themselves in the process by prioritising their work and forgetting about lunch. In Remus’ head, everything circled back to the night before as a chain of linked events. As you laid in bed, curled up and nibbling on a chocolate bar, you watch and listen as Remus scolds the two about how, if the outburst didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night, you wouldn’t have agreed and you wouldn’t have had to suffer from their incompetent care. Remus was being too hard on himself, which reflected directly onto Sirius and James.

“This is why I said we needed to be careful and. To. Be. Patient,” Remus snarls under his breath, almost growling at Sirius and James who stand at the foot of the bed. James nods with a disappointed sigh as Sirius crosses his arms and huffs in defiance. They’re developing a bad habit of speaking about you when you’re still in the same room but, at least, it means their thoughts are open to you.

“I didn’t see you complain when you watched James and I practically devouring her sweet little mouth yesterday,” Sirius’ challenging comment makes the tips of James’s ears turn visibly pink as an embarrassing heat climbs up your neck to bloom across the apples of your cheeks. Interestingly, James can barks and bites to his heart’s content with you but if anybody else brings it up, it seems that bashfulness isn’t far behind. 

Remus shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t start now, Sirius—”  

“—I-I don’t mind, we’re all learning to love together and I know how important the tattoo parlour is to all of you so I really don’t mind…” you interrupt their bickering with flushed cheeks and shy eyes, unprepared for the reaction you would receive. 

Remus snaps his full attention towards you in that moment. Your words were innocent and you look the picture of virtue, shy and sweet as you peer up at them with glittering doe eyes and a small smile. Remus doesn’t think anybody else could be more beautiful than you right now. You appreciate his passions, you support it even, you’re understanding, you’re kind, you’re loving, you’re sweet and you’re so incredibly lovable, he wants to keep you away from the rest of the world forever, selfishly keeping you for himself. He wonders if you know how much of a tease you’ve been to him this whole, working him up over and over and over again until he finally snaps.  

Morals and patience be damned — he can’t resist you anymore. 

Remus’ face carries an unreadable expression as he gives a slow exhale and strides over to you. Sirius and James watch from where they stood, unmoving but with sly smiles on their lips — they know you’re the perfect image of Remus’ weaknesses bundled into one being and they both knew this was coming. It was about time… they applaud him though, he has more patience than them — but he had more desires too. 

It all happens too fast for you to register but Remus was quickly looming over you, propped up by a hand on the bed as his other gripped at your chin. His eyes were piercing and held such promise within them, un-breaking and passionate, that you couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t tempt me, beautiful girl,” his voice lowers several octaves and is underpinned by a hypnotising vibration that corrupts your limbs with minor tremors and a ferocious heat. Shamelessly, he captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss, an antithesis to the dark gleam in his feral eyes, “I’m not above making a mess in the bedroom,” you gasp at the implication and, for a moment, your cramps become pleasantly arousing. Again, Remus can’t help but hold your lips hostage in an increasingly impassioned embrace. He greedily eats up your pretty moans, the muffled sounds going straight to his groin and making his smart trousers uncomfortably tight — a prickling warning to his precarious conduct, “so be a good girl and sit pretty until after you get over this, okay?” he utters roughly against your lips. 

He’ll wait just a little bit longer…it’ll be worth it.

NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : TONIGHT →

A/N : goodness me, this was so much harder to write than previous chapters, i kept changing so many things but i think i'm satisfied with the final product, i hope you darlings do too~ the next chapter will be a pretty big one i think, so i won't be posting it for a while, however, i may post short additional imagines/scenarios for this series that don't necessarily follow the chronological order just to satiate some of you XD anywho~ i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one

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[gladiatorcunt]

summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

[j2hoes]

Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.” 

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’. 

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor. 

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man. 

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid. 

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders. 

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.” 

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?” 

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat. 

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole. 

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.” 

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

[whimsicalpolitical]

Use me - Matty Healy x Reader

in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off

content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,

“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.

“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”

You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.

“D’you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”

“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.

Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.

You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.

Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.

“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.

You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”

“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”

“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.

“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”

You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.

“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”

Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.

“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”

His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.

“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”

You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”

Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.

His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.

Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.

You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.

You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.

“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.

Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”

“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.

“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.

“Please, can we-“

Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.

“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”

You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.

“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.

“Fuck- yes.”

“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.

“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”

He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.

“Please just-“

“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”

You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.

“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”

“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”

He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”

“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.

And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.

"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.

One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.

“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.

The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.

"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.

He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.

"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”

He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.

“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.

Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.

Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.

“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“More than,” you respond.

Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.

"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.

He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.

“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”

You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.

Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”

You ignore him.

Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.

“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.

“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.

“Have at it, darling,” he says.

You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.

Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”

You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.

“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”

You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.

Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.

“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”

You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.

“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”

“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”

You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.

“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.

“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.

You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.

“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”

“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”

“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”

“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”

Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”

You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.

“Fuck, matty.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”

You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.

You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.

“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“

He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.

"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."

Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”

He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.

“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”

You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.

"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”

You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.

You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.

“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”

“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.

“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”

“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”

He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.

He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”

“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.

While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.

You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”

“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”

His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.

When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.

You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"

You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.

"Matty?"

"Yeah?"

There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."

For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"

You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."

The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.

"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”

"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."

Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.

"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”

You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."

He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”

You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”

Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.

“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.

You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”

You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”

He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”

His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”

You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”

“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”

“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.

“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.

“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”

You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.

“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”

“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.

[thehighladywrites]

— “Do you eat pussy like that?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you’re ovulating, insanely horny and thinking about putting your hands down his pants in the middle of the cafeteria

☀︎ — warnings: smut, nsfw, public display of affection, Azriel is a little stern, like a tiny bit, pussy eating, riding, ovulation

☀︎ — amara’s note: this was so fun to write, i love freaky bimbo reader, she’s so fun. also very realistic bc i too would wanna put my hands in azriel’s pants. and don’t mind the fact that this is complete nonsense. idk wtf is happening💗

series masterlist

You should’ve known azriel was an eater.

Whenever he ate, he did it like he was out of breath, inhaling his food and munching on it. He did this thing where he’d lean over his plate, shuffle food into his mouth, head tilting a little to the left, eyes closed and everything. It reminded you of the way he tilted his head when he kissed you.

He ate with such need and energy that you couldn’t help the dirty thoughts in your little brain. But it’s not even your fault, it’s his. Who the hell eats like he does?

You can't help but giggle whenever you watch Azriel eat, finding it very cute that he devours his food. It’s like, he really loves his meals, you know?

But then you remembered last night when you jumped on him while he was working on his computer. He looked so cute and focused, but his hands... so fucking hot, they looked so good. Like, seriously, how can hands be so attractive? Maybe it was the ring, maybe it was the bracelet or maybe it was because you wanted to gag on them.

You knew you were ovulating, it was no surprise. You basically turn into a succubus, hellbent on getting slutted and fucked. Azriel is there, so naturally you want him to take care of it.

I mean, who else could help you? Getting off yourself is so much work and doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he does it.

“Azzie, i missed you sosososooo much!!” you strolled towards him with a massive smile. Azriel turned around at the sound of your pink, fluffy heels klicking against the cafeteria floor.

He gave you the kindest smile as you approached him, lifting his arm so you have room to lean against him. You had different classes in the morning, so you met him for lunch. you sit next to him, scooting as close as you can. If you could, you’d sit on top of him but you were in the cafeteria so you had to settle for leaning with your face nuzzled against his neck.

There he was, eating like he always did. But today, you couldn’t stop your thoughts. He was eating too good. You wanted to tell him, so you did.

“Hi, my sweet girl. I hope you had a good lecture. What do you want to do after classes?”

You sighed. You were dangerously horny, it was a miracle you didn’t put your hand down his pant, honestly.

“Hmm, I wanna be fingered, i want my pussy ate then i wanna be fucked for hours, pretty please?” you mumbled against his neck, kissing and licking a stripe.

Azriel started coughing, nearly choking on his food.

“And, uh, another thing. D’ya eat pussy like that?” you asked with hope, a french tip pointing to his plate.

“Oh my god, uh — okay, so, baby, you — you can’t just say stuff like that in public, okay?” he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing as he glanced around nervously.

“Why not? I want my boyfriend, there's no shame in it!” you declared, pursing your glossed lips, with your hands folded over your half-exposed tits.

Azriel nervously glanced around as you put a leg over his thigh. “Please help me, i’ll totally die if you don’t.”

“Okay, sure, but why are you so — um, frisky?" Azriel asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. A nervousness that increased as you pressed your tits against him.

“I don’t know what that means.” You replied, tilting your head slightly in confusion, your ditzy demeanor showing through.

“Um, sexually charged,” Azriel tried to explain, his hands moving mid-air in an attempt to convey his meaning.

“I’m ovulating, Azzie. aka i need you inside, like right in this moment — like in this second, now.” your nail tapped quickly against the dining hall’s table, a sign of your impatience. “Please stop talking nonsense, i don’t know about sexually charged, m’just horny.”

“Right, right. I read about that. Okay, let’s go. Do you want my dorm or your apartment?” Azriel questioned as he stood up, lifting you from the bench.

That little move of him lifting you without hesitation or struggle made your jaw drop. Your hands automatically moved towards his belt, and a sweet expression crossed your face as you stared up at him, completely flustered.

“Yours.”

Azriel stopped you before you could bend down and blow him infront of people. He led you by the hand, your thoughts completely cleared, except for one thought.

You were SO gonna get it.

—

He’s so gentle. The way the flat of his tongue drags between your folds is ungodly to stay the least, the lewd squelching of his tongue flicking your glistening, throbbing clit.

“You okay? Holy shit you weren’t lying, you’re incredibly wet,” his fingers come to touch you, almost slipping in with no difficulty.

“mm-yeah, m’so good. J’st keep your mouth riiiight there,” you hummed, dragging his head back as you shifted his head a little to the left. He inserted one finger, then added another before curling them, just like he was taught.

You felt his tongue press against your clit at the same time, your hands gripping his shoulders in order to not writhe away.

“ ‘s really s-sensitive, ‘nd it feels so, so good, az.” He flushes, cheeks reddened at your sweet, whines and moans.

“so sweet.. you’re so sweet, baby.” he doesn’t stop when he speaks. instead, he continues to lap at your cunt, his face evidently beginning to get wet from the mix of your slick and his saliva.

It’s so messy, but he’s loving every second of it even when your juices wet his chin and entire mouth. You’re so close to sliding off his bed with the way you’re writhing away. But it’s like you have to! If he keeps his work up, you’ll cum all over his face in seconds.

“Stop tryna run away, you haven’t even finished yet.” He drags you closer to him by your thighs as he locks his arm around your legs.

“A—azzie! s-slow down, ‘m gon-gonna cum too quick if you keep goin’.”

He doesn’t slow down, and he definitely doesn’t stop. Instead you feel his tongue lap your cunt as he sneakily bring his hand up to your clit rubbing it softly.

When you cum, he just moves you on top of him with no warning. You had been begging to ride, whining about how you’d feel fuller if you were on top. As much as Azriel loves you, your whining was making him wanna check you.

“There. Now will you be good and ride? Hm?” He squeezes your waist as you put your hands on his toned stomach with a smile.

“Mm-hm, I’ll ride.”

Azriel is left damn near paralyzed after. He is sweating, trembling, dying.

You on the other hand couldn’t possibly be more content. He had given you a good dicking :)

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @scoobies @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @berryzxx @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria @hannzoaks @throneofsmut

if ur username is in bold, i couldn’t tag you ;(

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising II

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 2.9k

Poly!lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: I am gonna be 100% honest with all of yall, I have cried, yelled at myself, and threaten to throw my phone across the room. Because I had no idea how to get the reader and the boys to meet. So, this honestly will probably suck, but I have tried my hardest. Spent too many hours deleting and rewriting for this to be bad. So please enjoy if can

The board walk was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It was packed full of bustling people, everyone wanting to go through all the rides, shops and games that they had on display. 

Lights came from all around, aluminating your way through the crowd as you tried to decide what to do first on the boardwalk. Screams and laughter sounded from the rollar coaster ride, the bumps and spins tempted you, but you knew that you’d need to ease your way into everything. 

This would be the moment when you’d wish that Sam or Micheal had come with you, they would try to do everything at once. But, unfortunately, right as you three had arrived; the boys had caught wind of a concert, ditching you to go watch Timmy Cappello perform. 

Treacherous dicks. You called them, wishing that at least one of them would have stuck with you as you ventured where you’d be spending the remainder of your summer. 

You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts, the heat of the night air causing a faint sheen of sweat to coat your body. After you’d finished unpacking all the necessities from the car, you’d taken a quick shower and changed for a night out on the board walk.

And thankfully so, the gentle breeze against your bare legs cooled you down enough for you to actually enjoy the night out. 

Chimming bells suddenly grasped your attention, facing the noise, you saw a small shop that was isolated from the others. One of the stores windows was cracked, a piece of cardboard covered the inside to prevent the glass from falling out. 

It was a music shop. 

You remembered when your dad would take you as a kid, letting you pick out cassette tapes, and vinyl records for your room. The old record player would run all day from how many times you would listen to Elvis, Buck Owen’s, and The mamás & the papas. 

It was such a shame that you had to sell the record player and half of your vinyl collection to help out after the divorce. With such little money, you had to make sacrifices for your family. No matter how much you regretted it afterwards.

You glanced up at the sign above the door, a wooden guitar with the words Soundscape etched into the body, swayed against the gentle breeze.  A young couple walked out of the store, hand in hand, a paper bag with their purchase held tightly as they ambled away. 

Reaching into your pocket, you felt around for your wallet. The small leather bound material felt weighted as you pulled it out, the sudden urge to spend your money caused you to open the door of the shop. 

The bell rang above you, and a quick greeting sounded from the cashier. You politely greeted him back before wandering throughout the store. 

It was decently clean, a few stray cd’s littered the ground and a couple display posters were a bit too crooked. But, overall, it was perfect for you. 

You trailed your fingers over a couple of vinyls, picking up a few before putting them back in place. Not really looking for anything specific at the moment, you just tried to find something that would catch your eye. 

Stopping infront of the cassette tapes, you let yourself go through each row, the soft clicking as the cassettes bumped against each other drifted up towards your ears. That and the sound of Jeff Lynne’s voice singing Don’t bring me down, was the only noise that filtered throughout the store. 

Your finger graced an Elvis cassette, the image of him and his infamous guitar sat in the clear case. Picking up the tape, you flipped it over reading the listed songs that went with each side. It had a couple good ones; like Blue Suede Shoes, All Shook Up, Return To Sender, Burning Love and of course some others. 

It was his top greatest hits from each album. 

You tapped the plastic against your palm, debating if you should spend the money just to add to your Elvis collection. You actually had a lot of collections that you needed to complete, but, with this specific artist you only had small handful left to find. 

Kinda like Sam’s Batman comics that he’s been trying to find at every book store that you’d passed on the way down here. 

The bell suddenly rang once more, dragging your attention away from the shelf infront of you. A group of men walked in, each leather clad and mullet wearing. The smell of smoke drifted off of them, wafting through the store. It made you scrunch your nose in disgust. 

“Welcome to the SoundScape,” The Cashier told them, the rehearsed words falling easily out of his mouth. “If you need any help, please let me know.”

None of the guys acknowledged the worker, or, they did though they just didn’t pay him any mind. You watched as they each dispersed from one another, going to different displays around the store. Picking up random items before putting them back where they originally were. 

One of the guys walked down the same row you were on, his eyes trailing over the selection of cassettes. You returned your gaze back to your own tape, not wanting to be caught staring at the guy like a creep. 

Eyeing the rack infront of you, wondering if you should buy the Elvis tape or possibly another. If you’d had enough money on you. You kept your eye on a Boney M. cassette, the item practically calling your name. You reached forward fingers less than an inch away from the plastic when a sudden commotion caused you to freeze. 

BAM!

Your head instantly shot up, the sudden noise disturbing the once peaceful silence. It came from a guy in the leathered group, the small one with curly hair, he stood over a fallen display of cd’s. His hands held up in the air, a small smug grin tugging on his lips as he turned to the stores worker. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He told him, his apologie laced with sarcasm. “It just started falling.”

The cashier let out a deep sigh, his smile turning from genuine to forced as he eyed the scattered items. “It’s alright, accidents happen.”

You watched as the curly guy bent down and picked up the stand, purposely hitting the one right beside it as he did so. He let out another fake apology before the worker shooed him away, picking up everything himself before curly messed up the entire store. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the movement of the blond beside you shove something in his pocket. You turned you head slightly, to get a better view, and you watched as he took another cassette from the shelf and put it on the inside of his jacket. 

You glanced between him and the other three guys that he came in with, noticing that with the worker busy they were taking items off of their display and stuffing them deep into their clothes. Hell, the curly guy was trying to fit a whole vinyl record in the front of his shirt. A very prominent square outlined for everyone to see. 

It was a diversion, knocking over enough stuff for the counter guy to get pissed and pick everything up himself. It was clever, but still wrong. 

With your attention kept on the tapes infront of you, you opened your mouth. Voice low enough so that only the blonde next to you could hear. “You shouldn’t do that.”

The man glanced up at you, not at all ashamed of what he was doing. “What’s that?”

“You shouldn’t steal.”

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning his upper body against the shelf. “Oh, really?” He asked, voice drawing out into a tease. “Wanna tell me why I shouldn’t, babe?”

You gestured to the store around you, eyes meeting his. “Because, its wrong. And, just because you and your friends can’t see that, doesn’t mean that it’s right.”

“Well, me and my friends seem to think it pretty damn fun.” He told you, pushing off the shelf as he took a few small steps towards you. “So, your reasoning is pretty much useless in this case.”

The guy stood a mere foot away from you, his eyes trailing across your face. His smile growing ever so slightly as he took you in. “So, watcha gonna do about it?” He asked, voice soft and teasing as he held a tape infront of you. 

“Put it back.”

“Why? There is no fun in doing the right thing.” He waved the item in your face. “Is there, babe?”

You snatched the cassette from his grasp, eyes not once leaving his as you placed it randomly on the shelf. “Put ‘em all back.” You scolded, voice rising ever so slightly. “It’s shitty and disrespectful for the ones that try to make a living working in places like this.”

He glanced over the top rack, eyeing the worker with disinterest. “Yeah, but, it’s also disrespectful to have to work at a place like this.” He turned back to you. “So, if he gets fired then he’ll come and thank us.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, wanting to tell him how much his point didn’t make since. When you notice how quiet the store had gotten, the music coming from the speakers and the worker picking up the cds were the only thing. Glancing around you couldn’t see the guys friends, all of them gone from where they originally were. 

“Yeah, Paul, put it back.” A voiced suddenly called from beside you, arm slinging itself across your shoulder. 

Peering beside you, you saw the curly haired guy, his eyes dancing between both you and Paul. You didn’t even hear him come up behind you, in fact you didn’t even know that he had moved from where he was across the store. 

You pushed off his arm, the feeling of his body pressed up against your own made your face heat up. Looking back at Paul, you noticed how his body seemed to get more ecstatic, smile forming into a friendly tease. “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you put up that vinyl of yours.” He tapped against the cardboard beneath the fabric. 

Curly swatted his hand away, pulling the vinyl from beneath his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You eyed the disc on the ground, annoyance seeping into your chest at the disregard of store. 

“Pick it up.” You told the smaller one, side stepping away from them both to give yourself some room. 

He tsked, eyes roaming your body up and down. “Well, aren’t you a bossy one.”

“I wouldn’t be bossy if you’d stop fucking-“

“Watch your mouth.” A different voice spoke up, stopping you from finishing your sentence. You glanced over at the voice, taking in his long overcoat and bleach blonde hair. “It’s not nice to treat strangers that way.”

You furrowed you eyebrows, “If your saying I’m being rude, than that’s really the last thing I care about right now.”

A few small snickers came from around you, causing you to look around at each men that surrounded you. The two blondes stood the closest to you, giving you just a foot of breathing room. Then there were the the bleach blonde and brunette. They stood the furthest from you, but their stares alone were enough to make you feel like they were everywhere at once. 

Your body felt like it was on fire underneath their gazes, that and your dignity slowly burning away as realized how much of a fool you must look like right now.  You quickly crouched down, picking up the vinyl and gently setting it on the shelf. Not really caring that it’s not where it belongs right now. 

Someone cleared their throat. You and the guys turned your attention towards the worker, who stood behind the counter with a wet rag. “We’re closing.” He told them, nodding toward the door with little patience. “If your gonna buy something, now is the time.”

You gave him a quick ‘ok’, forced smile gracing your features as you turned to face the men. You eyed them wearyingly, knowing that they could just easily walk out of here without doing at all what you’ve been asking. 

A soft chuckle came from the bleach blonde, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “C’mon, Paul.” He said, turning to walk out of the store. “Put ‘em back, we got places to be.” 

You watched as he pulled out a cd, the front of the case covered in a band called Scorpion. He set it down on the shelf, his eyes not once leaving your own. “We’ll see you around.” He muttered, voice low and mesmerizing to hear as he spoke.

It was almost like a fly getting caught in honey. Alluring and sticky, but, it’s just a trap for the prey. 

You didn’t acknowledge his words, instead you just watched as he walked out, the others slowly trailing after him. The brunette hadn’t muttered a single word since entering the store, and apparently didn’t feel the need to as he stepped outside. 

Curly slowly wandered towards the door, turning swiftly to wave his fingers at you before disappearing behind the glass. A simple ‘Have a nice night’ spilling from his lips as he did so. Paul then turned to walked out, his arm resting across your shoulder slide off. Hand coming up to pinch your nose. “Yeah, we’ll be seeing ya around.” He told you, voice indicating that it wasn’t a suggestion, but more of a promise. 

Swatting his hand away from your face, you watched as he chuckled, walking away as he went to join his friends. Leaving you all alone in the isle, with nothing but your Elvis tape and flustered face. 

Engines revved outside as you walked up to the cashier, the sound of the fading bikes meeting your ears as you tossed the cassette on the counter. The worker rang you up, placed your item in a paper bag and thanked you for your purchase. You quietly wished him good night, before turning on your heal and walking outside. 

You were quickly met with the warm night air, the loud noises coming from the boardwalk surrounded you once more. You held on tightly to the paper bag, the cassette softly rattling inside as you quickly walked away from the Soundscape. 

You were still flustered from your interaction with the four boys. The feeling of their bodies pressed up against your own made the night heat all the more unbearable. What if I would have just left them alone? You thought, swerving through a group of people that waited patiently for the carousel. 

They still would have taken from the shop, and that guy would’ve probably lost his job from all the items missing. But, you wouldn’t have lost some of your dignity whilst doing so. 

A sigh left your lips, unoccupied hand going into your jacket pocket. Though instead of the feeling of the scratchy fabric, your fingers graced against a peice of cold plastic. You stopped walking, standing by your lonesome in the middle of the boardwalk as you pulled out whatever rested in your pocket. 

It was a Scorpion cd. The same one that you saw the bleach blonde pull from his coat. You hadn’t even felt him slip the item in your pocket, was it when you were getting on to him or when he was leaving? Was he even the one that slipped it in?

Stupid prick, you thought. Stuffing the disk into the paper bag with your Elvis one, there was no sense in returning it now. The shop was already closing up and how would you even explain that to the poor worker. 

You shook your head, the events of the night tiring you out. 

From a distance you could see both Sam and Micheal standing in the middle of the boardwalk, their attention caught on a girl and little boy. You made your way over to your brothers, the paper bag swaying in your hand as your feet picked up. 

Sam greeted you when you came near, his long over coat brushing against his shoes. “He’s been following her since the concert.” He told you, gesturing with his hand towards the pretty girl. 

“Mmh, hey, peeping Tom.” You tugged on Micheal sleeve, trying to pull him away. “I’m ready to go home.”

He didn’t acknowledge you, his eyes staring longingly at the back of the girls head. You pulled once more at his arm, barely getting him to move when the sudden loud noise of multiple vehicles rushed on the boardwalk. Glancing towards the disturbance, you watched as four familiar bodies stopped infront of the girl and boy. 

They each revved their engines, purposely scaring away anyone that too close. You watched as the little boy made his way over to one of the motorcycles, the brunette pulling him up to sit behind him. 

The girl placed her arm across the bleach blondes chest, hosting herself onto the back of the motorcycle. “C’mon, man, she played you.” Sam told his brother, pulling him away from his rooted spot on the deck. You stayed put for a second, slowly trailing after your brothers as the engines of the bikes faded from earshot. 

Your mind going to when exactly you’d be seeing them again. 

A/a/n: Like I said, this took so long to figure out how exactly the reader and the boys would meet each other. So, I honestly would understand if y'all don’t like this, but, trust me the other chapters are going to be a whole lot better.

[sunnami]

deleted draft/scene - watch me, don’t touch me, love me, don’t hurt me.

legitimately cannot write anything at the moment, so please have this for a bit T-T

“LILY, DARLING! That dress looks utterly divine! Is that Charmeuse silk? The purple simply brings out the color in your eyes! And your skin, my love! Just glowing! Tell me—have you been trying those snail facials? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays.”

Amidst the Yule Ball festivities, a crowd gathers in the corner of the icy ballroom; far beyond the ages of awkward teenage hand-holding, and an acquired taste for Firewhiskey rather than fruit punch. In the middle of it all—is you. Obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention, whether they like it or not. But even the Dementors in Azkaban would find themselves drawn to your shrilling voice and careless display of wealth; like a bee to a field of flowers. Your gown is dripping in black, hand-woven gothic lace, and drapes of ruffled, yellow satin skirts. It is a testament to your House—the cete of badgers. A pear cut, Canary Diamond necklace sits atop your neck. The capelet around your shoulders is of black velvet and gold trimmings. 

(Always the belle of the ball, but Sirius Black wonders if there’s anything in your head at all.)

(“Bloody hell.” Marlene grabs the flask of whiskey from Sirius’s hands and pours the burning liquid down her throat. “I’m going to need more of this if I plan on surviving the night. Surely there are more important matters to discuss than French designers and our frilly dresses. It’s like I’m back in sixth-year all over again.”

Sirius shakes the now-empty container in amusement. “And you thought stealing my stash was the best idea? Do you know how hard it was to sneak this in with Minnie glaring down my shoulders? I swear that woman treats me like I’m still fourteen.”)

“We work in the same castle, Lily flower, but it’s a pity we don’t run into each other much,” You say liltingly, lipstick staining the rim of your champagne glass. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately avoiding me!”

Lily flashes you a constrained smile. “On the contrary, I’ve been rather busy these days helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. My responsibility, after all, is first and foremost—the children.” She raises a brow at you contemptuously. “Not all of us have the luxury of skipping work for tea and gossip.”

You hum, lips quirked in amusement. “Oh? That’s a shame. Narcissa and I would love for you to join us one day.” 

“Perhaps when I’ve no longer important things to do,” says Lily in a saccharine-sweet tone. 

You grow bored of toying with Lily—to her relief—and decide to throw a bone at Rita Skeeter. The bloodthirsty journalist preys hungrily at your every word—and you’re more than willing to satiate the irritable, little pest. You have nobles from pure-blooded families kissing at your feet for a moment of your time; entertaining a crowd like this takes no effort. (Except for the Marauders, you find. They’re the section that plays out of tune in the orchestra you’re conducting.) 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rita darling, of all the people I come upon in Rome—it’s Vittoria Zabini!” You throw your head back in laughter as Rita’s eyes grow wide as a bug’s. “On a honeymoon, no less!” You wink at Rita. “This makes her fourth one now, I believe.” 

As predicted, Rita greedily whips out her Quick-Quotes Quill. “Riveting.” She pushes her glasses upwards with a quirk of her lips. “We may have tomorrow’s front page at our hands.” 

Lily hides a scoff by taking a sip of her sparkling beverage. “Surely we have more important news for the wizarding world than an innocent woman’s marriage.” 

You gasp melodramatically. “But this is Vittoria Zabini! Haven’t you ever wondered why her husbands mysteriously disappear after months of marriage?”

“Not even once!” Lily slams her glass down onto the round, draped table; nostrils flaring and chest heaving. “Sorry.” She dabs a napkin at her lips with a heavy exhale. “Please excuse me. I’ve just lost my appetite.” 

“Poor dear,” You mutter as the red-headed beauty makes for the group of Gryffindors a few feet away. She instantly collapses into James’s arms, no doubt complaining about your charming personality. There’s an odd ache in your heart as you watch the McKinnon girl pat her back comfortingly; Remus Lupin taking Lily’s hands and easing her anger. You’ve never felt a camaraderie such as theirs. Always the Gryffindors, and their flagrant displays of loyalty and whatnot. 

How repulsive. 

this was one of the first ever drafts for the fic! and no, the yule ball scene won’t be like this, it’ll be quite better, i hope. ;0

[ipegchangbin]

The idea of the boys wanting to put on a show for y/n. who do you think would be the slutty one "oh cmon don't get shy now ____, it's not like we don't make out all the time anyway. do it for y/n, i think they'd really like it. and i know you would, you literally said so last night." as he looks over to grin at you

And thennnnn! who would be the shy but eager one with his hands already on the other members belt as he leans in

idkidk just an idea

my fingers slipped here’s a quick mtl

🏷️ sub!skz ot8, member x dom!reader x member

MOST SHAMELESS SLUT

minho — it doesn’t matter whoever he’s with, he’s going to be a slut and be cocky about it. at this point, it isn’t even for show, or for the other; he wants to display his sexuality. absolutely loves it when the other gets riled up because it gets him going. definitely holds the other person by the back of his head, proximity so close that they’re nose-to-nose, all the while minho’s hand pumps the other’s cock against his own. the other hand? squeezing the other’s ass.

seungmin — knowing him, he’d take this opportunity to tease his friend. he’d dig into the word “friend” while sliding his hand into the other’s boxers. call them a “bro” while showing you how fast he can make him cum with just his palm. seungmin doesn’t really care about the dynamics or whatnot. he doesn’t even care if he gets noisy or messy with making out, sucking the other off, or even fucking him in front of you; he’ll show you all that you want and more.

hyunjin — doesn’t give a fuck. pulls the other person’s face close to his. locks their head into a tilt towards your direction with a tight grip of his fingers, but it softens the moment you praise him for it. he cares only about making the show as pleasing to you as possible. hyunjin will be rough on the other’s lips if he needs to be, but he’ll slow down once you tell him to. he gets off, you get off, the other gets off; and you all look pretty while doing it.

changbin — a natural slut and not really timid, but he’s mistaken for such from how quiet he is. in reality, he’s just calculated; he’ll put on a show specifically for the both of you. he’d pull in the other in a slow, steady strip, followed by swallowed kisses, all leading up to him going down on the other’s balls. he’s always checking if you’re enjoying it as much as he is. somehow, even under his submission to you, he smirks proudly every time he elicits a reaction out of the other person, showing you his work.

jeongin — he would probably be shy at first but all shame leaves him as soon as the first kiss hits. his hands would roam freely around his friend until they find each other’s cocks. he turns to you the most though, eyes begging for validation with every step of the way. jeongin’s especially slutty when the other’s about to cum, because he’s gonna cum with him — if he hadn’t cum first yet.

felix — it should be nothing to him, theoretically, since he’s so used to kissing you and his other members in both platonic, romantic, and sexual contexts. even so, presented the opportunity, his nervous system seems to restart as soon as he’s in this situation. his cock strains against his pants as he yearns to be touched by the other while you’re staring at him. shame only dissipates when he gets teary-eyed, begging to be touched.

han jisung — gets embarrassed that you’re even telling him to kiss the other person in front of you. it doesn’t matter how much you’ve all been fucking each other, he still gets beet red at the prospect of it. the idea spurs him on, don’t get it twisted, but he gets so dizzy even if his own arms are at work stripping the other off their clothes. gets massively horny after just one slip of the other’s tongue.

bang chan — he’s so shy about it. he’s shy even being in front of you, what more with someone else and you? he can’t handle it, but somehow, his hands express how needy he is inside. chan has little to no control over how his throat releases the whimpers he tries to bite back, or how his fingers search for the nipples of his other, or how his knees fold until he’s eye-level with the other’s cock. even then, he shies away, burying his face into the other’s skin.

LEAST SLUTTIEST

[silverflqmes]

hihi ellie ! i was wondering if i could request hcs with sugawara with a gymnast!reader (self projecting but i wanna see what ur thoughts on it are like <3) gn please <3 love u lots /p

໒⦂ 𝐆𝐘𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi luma, my memories of gymnastics and terms has diminished over the years bc i stopped at a young age, but i’ll try my best with this🫡

genre. fluff + crack

for @kurolumiis <3

koshi sugawara x gn!reader.

⌗ sugawara definitely finds a way of balancing volleyball along with attending your meets ( i think this is the term.. )

⌗ loves to see you in your leotards all dressed up and sparkling, you’re like a shining star to him, certainly under the glow of the stadium lights<3

⌗ either made or purchased good luck charms for you to keep with you at any competitions you might have, especially if he cannot be there himself — but he tries his best to be!

⌗ should he have the time, he gets up extra early and prepares a nice meal for you to take with you if it’s an away tournament that he can’t attend, how sweet<3

⌗ your number one cheerleader!! i mean, have you seen him in the scene where he was like YAMAGUUUUCH, IPPON NICE SERVE!! yeah that’s him but cheering you on instead.. minus volleyball terms BUT DOES THAT SILLY MAGICAL GIRL POSE LMAO

⌗ he’s so proud of you out there he’s like YES THAT’S MY BABY OUT THERE SLAYING THE COMPETITION!! while holding a camera and recording BAH

⌗ helps you stretch if you’re sore and spots you if you’re practicing after hours and you don’t have someone to catch your limbs or prevent you from getting hurt in any way

⌗ SHOULD you get hurt, however, he’s got the first aid kit ready and you will likely get scolded for not being careful but it’s just him being worried about you cuz he doesn’t like seeing you hurt</3

⌗ loves when you attend his games, even if he isn’t on court 100% of the time, but y’know, appreciates it nonetheless cuz it displays you care for his interests as much as he does for yours

⌗ there was a leotard once that you were eyeing but was a little ( a lot ) out of your price range.. you had wanted it for your nationals, too, since you had gotten in — so sugawara surprised you with a nicely wrapped box once the results were in that you would be going, and it was none other than the leotard you were eyeing that day<3

⌗ out of curiosity, he asked you one day to teach him some things — i mean, the man can jump so high?? it’d be a shame not to try some stuff out..

⌗ and so you agreed to his request, finding it silly that he wanted to try what you do

⌗ it was safe to say that it was easier watching than actually doing.. and that trampolines made stunts MUCH EASIER THAN GYM MATS DID.

⌗ koshi still managed to do something from what you taught him, and albeit it a stunt as simplistic as running into a cartwheel going into a front handspring — it still warmed your heart that he took interest in what you do

⌗ it was also funny at times to hear him yelp cuz he was literally upside down for some things you had him try out LMAO

⌗ in return, after doing some much needed stretches to not have his body absolutely destroyed for practice the next morning, you had offered to try out his volleyball drills.

⌗ how hard could spiking be? ( if you’re short like me and aren’t the highest jumper — hard. but not as hard as blocking😵‍💫 although with timing it’s not as difficult.. )

⌗ it wasn’t as easy as it appeared from a distance, but it was still fun to do! a few sets later it would become a little more easier, and sugawara tossed in a way that was feasible enough for you to hit

⌗ brings you flowers on every competition, whether you win or lose he still brings them because you did really well out there regardless or the results!

⌗ just as he cheered for you during your meets, of course you also cheered for him during his like duh?? anytime he felt himself growing nervous — or the odds of winning had become close to zero, there you were lighting up his way<3

notes. that went a lot quicker than expected, i forget how easy hcs are LMAO but i hope you enjoyed luma<3 hearts to you from me /p and sugawara<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[mamayan]

20, 92, 52, 99

Could you do this with Douma and a fem reader pretty please? Also very many congratulations!

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Douma

“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” || Taste of Iron || Size || Praise/Worship

tw: NSFW • Biting (Blood play) • Rough Sex • Corruption K!nk • NONCON • Douma doesn’t stfu • Bondage

wc: 1086

“Ah~ really though, there’s nothing more wonderful than when you’re like this for me,” his voice was a soothing purr as he trails one cold hand up the smooth expanse of your thigh.

Luminescent rainbow eyes gazed down at your fragile figure tied and helpless. A pretty silk gag knotted and slotted into your mouth prevents any retorts.

“My most naughty little follower, are you enjoying this?” He wasn’t truly asking to hear your answer, more fixated on how much he was enjoying this. He could feel it, the blood and vitality rushing through your veins as adrenaline pumped and kept you acutely aware of every touch he placed on you. The fear and clarity in your gaze which the majority of his cult never figured out until it was far far too late.

You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and sadly, that meant you couldn’t be allowed to separate and mingle without him.

Tears flow down your cheeks as you struggle, bound and powerless under the beautiful male.

He was a fraud. A liar. A monster.

None of it mattered now, not when he’d sunken his claws too deeply into your family and friends to save them. You couldn’t even save yourself it seemed.

“Don’t cry sweet thing~ I’m not going to eat you~” yet, his smile was disarming, blatantly lying to your pretty face as he coos and hushes you.

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know? It makes me so sad to think about harming you, so we’ll do something else instead, okay~♡?” The cute way he spoke didn’t match Douma’s large body as he discarded his top, muscular unblemished figure on display.

He easily settled between your spread thighs, enjoying the view of your dripping pussy while you silently begged for mercy. “Such a shame I had to muffle your cute voice…” he laments to himself, nuzzling your soft inner thigh with his face and enjoying the texture of your skin. “I kind of want to hear you scream for me but, oh well,” he gives no warning before his sharp teeth are sinking into the flesh of your thigh, your pained squeal silenced by the fabric stuffed into your mouth. Douma delights in the blood and mark on your body, his mark, as he laps up the small rivers leaking from the puncture wounds he’d given. “Shh, no need to cry, I just wanted a taste,” he giggles, beautiful blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at his handiwork. His large hands shift, moving to your exposed cunt where he uses two fingers to spread your folds and reveal your small wet hole.

“I just knew you’d like this~!” You flinch away from the image above you, his lips stained with your blood, sharp canines on display as he grins.

He pays no mind to your repulsion, soon you’d come to like the blood as he did, he just needed to show you why it all felt so good.

“Y/N, sorry, I’ll prepare you much better next time, but I want to see you bleed a little more me, yeah? You’ll be a good girl won’t you?” Douma ignores the shake of your head, the clear useless struggle you attempt against your bindings. Instead, he loosens his belt and allows his pants to drop past his upper thighs, releasing his hardened cock.

“I promise it’ll feel good after a bit, just be patient.” He assures, voice so calm and patient compared to your panic and trembling body. “Your pussy is so cute Y/N, tiny like you, it might hurt a bit.” You imagine it’s going to hurt more than a bit as he lines himself up with your quivering unprepared entrance. The thick blunt head pressed and kissing you, pre-cum leaking freely from his tip, the only lubricant he’s offering as he presses forward.

You jerk, unable to voice the pressure overwhelming you as he takes you, mind going hazy with the burn and sensations forced upon you.

“Oh my, hng,” his head goes back, muscles tensing and flexing as he moans. “This hole is pretty naughty too, hm?” He gasps, voice strained for the first time all evening, “You’re so tight, it’s like you're sucking me in.”

He laughs when he realizes you’re nearly passed out, sweet features languid and drool soaking through the gag as you whine deep in your throat. He doesn’t stop, thick cock spearing you open as he rocks and slicks himself up with your arousal and blood from his initial cruel entrance.

“My cute little follower, it’s almost like you’re worshiping my cock now right? Isn’t it a dream come true for you?” He’s gleeful as he begins dragging along inside of your walls, rocking you with how heavy each thrust is. He delights in your struggle to resist, but it’s clear you’re falling quickly to the feeling of fullness and pleasure as your passage becomes wetter with each slap of his pelvis against you.

“Good girl, you don’t need to do a thing, just feel good for me.” You don’t have a choice as he fucks you sensesless, eyes rolling back as you cum around him with a silent shout. His hips don’t stop, only his moans and nails digging into your hips increase while he works himself deep and hard into you, savoring the scent of iron in the air while blood smears on his lower half and cock.

“Ah, you came right? How cute,” he coos, loving your cock drunk appearance juxtaposed to your earlier fear and revulsion of him. “You’re pathetic, you know that right? Do you still want me to stop?” He chuckles, hand reaching up and untying the gag, pulling the dripping wad of fabric out of your mouth. “Answer me quickly, do you still want me to stop?” He asks, voice deepening as he rams the head of his cock against an area that has you wailing.

“L-Lord Do-Douma please—!” He twists one of your nipples harshly, loving the pretty arch your back makes as you clench and spasm around him again.

“That’s not an answer~” he coos, your pretty eyes unfocused as you drool and babble after your orgasm.

“Don’t—! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please!” You’re quick to lose yourself, pleasure consuming you as he rocks you on his cock and thumbs your clit with a smug grin.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, glad he doesn’t have to kill you earlier than he’d planned.

You are his favorite after all.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

[chihoshisai]

Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time), fem reader // wc : 2.7k // A/N : Chapter was originally 7k words but has been cut in half because I judged it too long for tumblr, so part four will be longer

Part 3

“Reduce the budget set aside for the ball, and the volume of dishes as well,” you told your elder brother. Having found your way into his office — furnished with more books than furniture, large windows and an overall navy blue color—  without seeing the need of an appointment due to your familial bonds, you watched as he stopped scribbling to give you an imposing look. He seemed to give you a moment to reconsider your words and take them back had they been spoken out of folly, and though you felt intimidated by his silent pressure you maintained your ground.

After some time had passed and he conceded to your determination, he asked rather darkly. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

The pen he had been holding got placed down, and his hands intertwined, signifying he now was according you his full attention. “What is your reasoning behind such a request?”

“I would like for us to take into consideration the likings of my fiance.”

He gave a rather offending scoff. “Does that include for the royal family to appear foolish as well?” His gaze on you remained sharp even while the ridicule of his words sent a puff of shame to your cheeks.

“Surely you jest.”

“Unfortunately dear sister the castle has a certain face and decorum to maintain. Surely your beloved can understand that?” He brought his chin to rest on the back of his joined hands, giving you silent instructions through his face to let the truth reach, and convince, your fiance.

You shook your head, standing your ground. “And as the trendsetter of the kingdom, we can also encourage and set a model for the nobles to follow. One that involves the decrease of abundant waste.” Your desire to appear more than a figurehead reflected not only in your immovable posture, but also through the beating of your heart, wishing to win your plea.

“It will not be easy.”

“Oh please,” you blinked to hide an eyeroll. “We all know everything is mostly for wealth display and no one ever eats that amount of food anyways. You're not powerless either and can make it happen.”

Your brother narrowed his gaze. “What is the reason behind your insistence? Is all well between you and your fiance?”

A pause occurred in which you pursed your lips, memories painting the blank canevas of your mind. “All will be if you do as I ask of you. Might I remind you, the event isn’t only about me after all.”

He sighed while shaking his head, but finally by the look of his untensing shoulders, he seemed to give in. “If we proceed, a valuable reason must be given to convince the nobles of the display.”

At the hearing of his words, you had to suppress your glee. “Say the union between royal and noble isn’t about showing off the wealth of one but balancing both on the same pedestal.”

Your brother mused on the idea for a second. “The family in question might find offense in this,” he gave as a last resort rebuttal.

You thought back on their words and ungrateful behavior towards a gift many would have appreciated and found value in. “Their problem, not mine,” you waved your hand as though their opinion was benign. “I don’t care as long as this will satisfy the one that matters.”

“Fine,” a compromising sigh heaved itself from his lips. “What more do you have in mind?”

You grinned, taking further steps towards his desk to partake in the sharing of your ideas, a slight nerve tingling down your stomach.

--------------

The castle busied itself beyond usual on the said morning — you were the first child to be engaged, first of the kingdom to soon administer such news to the populace. As such, it holded a rather significant meaning necessitating grand preparations, which you had personally asked to turn down a notch. As you heard the clamor and running steps of staff, the whispers of the maids, it dawned upon you that no one would criticize or point blame in your direction for holding such a downgraded ceremony. And you felt bad for your brother who shouldered the nation on his shoulders, therefore thinking of making it up to him someday.

Modesty was what you envisioned, what brought you to stroll down the gilded corridors of your mansion, towards the location of the event and to witness the fruit of your scheming. A secret meddling in which you had faith your brother would have upheld, considering he had never failed you once in the past. 

It was nearing midday, a time in which preparations were nearing their end and in which your liberty lasted before the excruciating hours of bodily prepping and glamoring for the ball happened. Finding the excitement of a child, you skipped, not without proper respect, over servants and flight of stairs to reach the main floor and ultimately the ballroom. 

What you saw, much in increase to the tying knot of your insides, your heart and your breathing, was… dumbfounding. Defeat was what you felt, while your eyes circled over many rows of yet to be lit chandeliers, falling from the ceiling like golden jewels when you had asked a single one to be placed in the center of the room. Horror choked you, when amidst those were encircled the signature wisteria flowers of the garden, with promises of soft fragrances throughout the night.

The worst of it all, what caused you to feel lightheaded and zydizziness, sharp and ruthless in its provoking your suppress anger, was not the amount of tables set, for they were the same as you instructed, but the lining of the nappe used. Its lace linen, far more detailed and precise, done by handy crafting skills that must have taken an eternity to unjustly paid workers, the bows attached to hang as a need for details and it's overall palette matching the golden beige of the room with subtle lilac flowers to reflect the colors cascading from overhead.

This was, truly was not what was previously agreed upon. After your eyes had analyzed the room with your chest heaving in an anxious way, they scavenged the personnel present for the traitor who had allowed this foolery. 

He was there; your brother — standing further in the midst of the room, his lavish clothing allegorating his importance next to the servants he spoke with, and finding place next to the similar garments of your mother. 

Seeing her, you quelled your rising anger, fearing a stern reprimand and coldly let the sounds of your heels announce your arrival.

“Sister, you're here,” your brother greeted with a well hidden guilty face.

You clenched your jaw, returning politeness through gritted teeths. “Mama. Brother.” 

“How do you like it?” Your mother looked you dead in the eyes, giving you a faint smile, leaving you self-conscious of the feelings that were currently suppressing themselves inside you. She wanted without a doubt for you to feel your happiest and satisfied with things.

“It’s more detailed than I expected,” you gave her a stiff, forced smile. One that you gave whenever you felt empathetic of her feelings.

“Well of course, dear child,” she waved your remark with a shroud hand. “It is a ball, it must look as such. You wouldn't have believed the state of the room when I first got in. It looked quite drab.”

The comment landed on your heart rather bitterly and with no words left to offer, you gave a chuckle. 

“Isn't it about time you went on to prepare yourself?” She pointed out, joining her hands together in a stout manner to look at your attire.

You nodded, refuting her words far from being a possibility. “Before that, could I have a word with his Majesty?” You purposefully called your brother by his title, a silent threat that had not failed to stiffen his shoulders.

“Of course, I will leave you children to it,” your mother gave a slight smile, feeling happy of the celebration no doubt, before she trailed away to further attend to the room's composition.

Once out of earshot, you shot an angry glare at your brother. “This is not what we agreed on,” you whispered viciously, tilting on your heels to face him.

He, making no attempt to show emotions on his face, returned a devoid expression by staring away from your eyes. “As you can see, mother's had a hand in it. There wasn't much I could do once it came to it.”

You pressed your joined palms until a sharp pain prevented you from losing the grip on your temper. “I came to you so this could be avoided.”

“Count yourself lucky sister, this is the best she could do with the budget restriction. And even then, for a ball thrown by the royal family it still falls under the label of simple.” He gave you a look, one that impelled you to shut it and accept facts as they were.

Yet, frustration still swelled inside you like a ripped apple, and as it spread you couldn't stop your tongue from running. “For God's sake, you're the king.” The words left as a high ushered whisper.

“And she's our mother,” he harshly spat in your face, startling you enough to recoil your neck to the back. “I did my part as best I could and you are welcomed,” he heaved a dry sigh to the side. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a list of tasks awaiting me other than dolling myself up for hours.” 

Your elder brother walked past you, exposing you to stand amidst the room, laying bare, bitter and out of options. Refusing to cast suspicion on yourself after your talk, you turned your heels away, making sure not to cause eye contact with another soul in the room and exited its vicinity. 

There was nothing to be done, your brother had been right in the sense that defying your mother would be as easy as seeking immortality. Therefore, with tainted red feelings as companions, you coursed through the palace, your expression grim all the way to your room. Your sole consolation was, perhaps with enough convincing, that Sabo would come to believe you if you claimed to have arranged for things to be otherwise.

If your words were your consolation, you realized, as the door of your chambers trapped you inside with its closing, that you still retained power — no one could enforce an attire on you. Not your brother, nor your mother who had, after many years of proven worth, allowed you the choosing of your gowns at your own discretion. 

As such, when your lady-in-waiting and maids came to fuss over you upon your entering, a smile had found its way on your face. 

But not for long — many times in the past, ever since the first crack of dawn broke through the sky, punctual in its glowing duty, you had been forced, dragged, entailed to sit through a full prepping routine. This time was no different, if only for the hour of the day. By prepping we’re talking massages, haircare and skincare. Every inch of your body, from the thinnest strands of hair to the nails of your toes was touched, handled, with attention and care meticulously.. 

If not for your position requiring for you to be handheld, like the nurturing of a garden by others since birth, you probably would have felt overstimulated — there was no need for you to lift a finger, as you let yourself lay about, giving idle thanks to the perhaps honest compliment of your staff. This time, the endless routine was what bothered you more than feeling the dry, moist or damp hands of your selected personnel. Laying down for a facemask while a pedicure was being done, bathing in a rose and citrus scented bath, sitting for a scalp massage; it never ended nor did you see its necessity. Rather you doubted it, shuddering at mental images you formed of Sabo had you the willpower to tell him of your day. For that reason, it would undoubtedly remain as a hidden fact, even if he did suspect how much water, products and whatnot was used, lost, wasted. 

You couldn't hide the results of the ballroom, but your own self-care was different.

By the time the ginger colors of dusk warmly embraced your room, a reminder to the time to come, you stood; detailed undergarments on your shoulders awaiting for the final piece of clothing to be brought.

“Are you sure about this dress, your highness?” One of your maids asked, holding the item in question in a way that revealed its full length. A satin pastel lilac ankle length dress, detailed with short puff sleeves and golden flower embroidery on its core. It was a simple dress, one that wouldn't entice a second look your way. One unfit for a ball, let alone royalty. 

“Yes. Put it on me please,” you had, with Sabo's taste in mind, chosen it for its modest aspect. And to your eyes, it didn't fail to strike you as pretty. In fact it would, were it worn for another occasion. 

Your maid did as ordered ; slipping the fabric with ease on your body, attaching a simple white pearl necklace decorated with a metallic golden bow,  placing similarly colored Huggies earrings and a brooch attached to the side of your hair.  

After the fitting of lilac heels, your prepping had come to an end, much to your relief and the fragrant way in which your muscles relaxed under your skin despite your growing anxiety. You stood in front of your mirror, turning only your neck to scrutinize the final result — the impersonating of a lowly born noble daughter at best was the image exuded. 

However, it didn't register as such to your mind, instead thinking whether the golden embroidery might have been a notch too much and would displease Sabo. Worse have him criticize your taste. Lost in your musing, you ignored the subtle silent fretting of your maids that lined up in a corner of the room, frankly aware that your current attire far from undermined all you had ever worn.

What came to interrupt your moment, was the knocking on your door. You turned your head momentarily from the mirror, feeling the beat of your heart increase for you knew who stood behind it. “Come,” you commanded loudly.

Seeing your mother enter, you returned your attention to the mirror, her silence broken only by the clacking sound of her heels. Your years of experience told you that the longer it lasted, the angrier she was or worse, the backlash would be.

She circled you like a hawk, her eyes piercing layers of thick skins, edging you to falter. “Is this your way of opposing this mariage?” She asked, having stopped to stand on your left, her gaze ever so burning you.

“I would never dare do such a thing,” you kept your look straight, staring only at yourself in the mirror.

“Frugality has no such place at a ball,” her words, uttered dryly, seemed to have dried along the air entering and exuding from your lungs. 

“Call it simplicity, mama.”

She surprised you, only enough to compel you to look at her from the mirror, by scoffing at your claim. “Simplicity? I will not let you embarrass yourself,” she spoke sternly.

At this, having not found her support, you broke free from the spell of the mirror to face her. “What else can they do but gossip? Let them if they want to,” you spoke briefly of the guests without care. “Is this ball not in honor of my engagement mother? I at least wish to wear what I want,” your chest heaved from the air it had finally found.

“How stubborn you have grown,” she looked you up and down rather pitifully. “Yet still remains a child,” she looked away to step aside to face the servants. “Mount her hair in an updo with more accessories.”

“Mama—”

“It is a command,” she gravely looked at you, much to shroud the voice in your throat. “Add braids to her hair, perhaps it will help salvage the mess,” she ordered towards the staff, before giving you a last look. “Let lessons be learned tonight if necessary.”  

This time, she excused herself completely from the room, the closing of the door resonating like the drums of insecurity that roused deep from your stomach. There was no doubt you had disappointed her, and yet, maybe out of pity or mercy, she had let you do as you pleased; not forcing you to change out your gown. You stared at the door, dreading what would await you beyond its path following the first objective reaction you had received.

“Princess, we must do your hair by order of the Queen Dowager,” one of your servants politely asked of you. 

You nodded, with no better choice but to obey.

Part 4

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (6)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Six (Smut chapter | afab version)

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: You and Seonghwa finally have a private moment without having to worry about guilt holding you back.

WC: 3.7k

Smut warnings: Kissing, nipple play (idol receiving), oral (both receiving), protected PIV sex, light choking

“Please, jagiya, don’t tease any longer.” 

You smirked and pulled your hand away, only to get up and sit on his lap, making him whimper again as you sat right on his cock. 

“Don’t you worry, Mommy. I’ll take care of you.” 

Seonghwa’s arms locked around your waist as you started rocking your hips against him. Your heart skipped a beat as he let out a strangled squeak. 

He was conflicted, he hadn’t been submissive for a long time. And he’d already mentally sworn he’d take care of you and be strong for you. 

But as you were grinding against his cock, pushing down on his chest, looking at him with undeniable lust, your words replayed in his head. 

“Don’t you worry, Mommy. I’ll take care of you.”

So for now, Seonghwa would let you do just that. 

You ran your hands over his chest, playing with the hem of the nightgown, running your fingers over the pretty pink flowery lace. What the fuck, it was so cute. 

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his skin, kissing down the middle of his chest feverishly. Seonghwa melted, his body relaxing under your kisses, gripping your body tighter as he let out soft, pretty moans. 

You’d caught yourself staring at his chest an awful lot, and who could blame you? 

This is exactly what you fantasized about: Putting your face in his chest, letting him smother you, holding you tight while he’s balls deep inside you-

You couldn’t stop yourself. You stilled your hips as you pulled one side of the nightgown off his shoulder and kissed down his chest to his nipple, running your tongue over it and sucking on it like he’d done to you. 

Seonghwa took one of his hands and instantly brought it up to cover his mouth, all of his whimpers and whines being muffled as his other hand clutched your shirt. 

You felt him harden against your core, and you couldn’t help but smirk knowing how much he liked this. Good news for you, since you were loving it. 

Your eyes flicked up to his face, and still had his head thrown back with his hand over his mouth. The sight of that in itself was gorgeous, his chest heaving, his pretty neck on display, his eyes squeezed shut. 

As gorgeous as it was, you knew you could do better. 

You slid the other side of the nightgown down his arm and ran your fingers over his other nipple, pinching and pulling on that one in time with the movements your mouth made on the other side. 

Even with his hand over his mouth, Seonghwa’s cry was still loud enough to hear it throughout the house. His face burned in shame, struggling to keep himself quiet, but goddammit, you were making it so difficult. 

Your cunt pressing up against his hard (now leaking) cock, your mouth and hands on his tits, fuck, he was losing his mind. He needed more. 

Seonghwa pulled his hand away and gripped onto your shoulder, finally lifting his head to look down at you. “Sweetheart, please,” he whined, “I need you on my cock, please.” 

And the idea of already fucking his brains out, looking down on him like he did to you, relishing in the control he gave over to you as he’d melt below you was absolutely divine. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want to jump straight into that. You wanted to keep this going. 

You smiled up at him as you pulled away from his chest, sitting up properly. He looked at you with stars in his eyes, so many unspoken pleas beside them. 

“If you insist,” you teased as you slid down off of his lap onto your knees on the floor. Seonghwa’s breath caught in his throat, making a soft choking sound as you pushed his nightgown up to his waist. 

And then it was your turn to choke when you saw the lacy, tiny panties he was wearing. 

Seonghwa weakly smiled seeing your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. Of course he’d worn them, he had them saved for “special occasions” like the many others he had tucked away. 

“Go on, take it off,” he whispered, reaching out to grab onto your hair with a trembling hand. You blinked and brought yourself back to reality, obeying his request and pulling them down and off his legs, leaving them on the floor beside you. 

His cock sprung up, hitting his nightgown and smearing pre cum on the lilac silk. Seonghwa watched as you reached forward to gently wrap your hand around him, looking up before you started slowly stroking him. 

The relief made him roll his eyes back and sigh contentedly. “That’s it, good doll.” You can’t deny that the praise makes you clench, but you manage to keep yourself composed as you reach up and lick around the tip. 

Seonghwa gripped onto your hair tighter, whining softly. “Yes, that’s-” He cut off with a choke and whimpered as you wrapped your lips around him, gently sucking on the tip instead. Fire danced up through his bones as his body went weak under you again, his thighs tensing hard beside your head. 

It was such a power trip seeing him so submissive to you. And you loved it. 

He’d hardly had time to adjust to this before you took him further into your mouth. Seonghwa squeaked and grabbed onto your hair with both hands now, panting heavily. You couldn’t help but smile as you began to slowly bob your head, still gently sucking. 

Seonghwa was already losing it. He was so sensitive, every gentle suck was making him shiver and tremble, he felt like he was on fire. He was sweating already, but mostly because he was doing everything in his power to not be loud enough for Wooyoung to hear. 

Wooyoung knew damn well what you two were up to, it’s why he left you two alone. Unbeknownst to the two of you, he couldn’t hear a thing through his headphones. 

Still, it would be awkward to hear your mom screaming your best friend’s name, so Seonghwa tried his best to stay quiet. 

That was becoming progressively difficult as you sped up your movements, slowly taking more of him, up until you gagged when he hit the back of your throat. Seonghwa snapped his head down to look at you, his eyes filled with concern, but you just kept going. A fire burned in his stomach when he heard the gag. 

“Sweetheart,” he whined, muffled by his hand. “Slow down, I’m going to-” And you knew where he was going, so you pulled off completely. Seonghwa squeaked in confusion, his eyes big and pleading. 

But it disappeared as you pulled your pants and underwear down and crawled up on top of him, pushing him down onto his back on the couch. 

“What?” Seonghwa grabbed onto your arms, fear in his eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to fuck you?” You responded, settling back on his thighs. Seonghwa gulped and looked away as his cheeks turned red. “Is that not okay?”

It’s not like Seonghwa had never bottomed. He’d had his share of partners, and many different acts and positions. He was no stranger to all of this. But Seonghwa had insisted on taking care of you. 

He wanted to be good to you, to care for you. He promised you he would. It was in his nature to do so, you saw it in everything. 

But your words replayed in his head. Don’t you worry, Mommy. I’ll take care of you. 

Seonghwa looked up at you, and you looked at him with nothing but care. Your eyes were gentle. Soft. He smiled and reached out to hold your hands. 

“Yes. Take care of me, sweetie.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

Seonghwa had grabbed a few condoms for the two of you, thankfully. After you both got back into position, he watched you with half lidded eyes as you tore the packet open with your teeth and slid it down onto his dick. You smirked at him as you hovered over him. 

You leaned down, propping yourself up on your arms beside his head. “Ready?” You breathed, your lips hovering over his. 

“Ready, doll,” Seonghwa breathed back, his pupils blown out. 

With that, you slowly sunk down onto his cock, biting your lip to stifle the moans that wanted to escape. Seonghwa dropped his head back against the couch again, closing his eyes, gripping onto your waist to ground himself. 

You felt fucking fantastic, and if he wasn’t careful, the whole neighborhood was going to know it too. 

You watched his face as you slid down the whole way, until he finally bottomed out inside you. You leaned your forehead on Seonghwa’s as you both panted softly. 

“You okay?” You breathed, your voice shaky. Seonghwa nodded as he opened his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m alright. You can move.” 

You pushed yourself up onto your arms and started slowly bouncing up and down, taking your time, letting you both adjust. Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered shut again with a soft moan as he dropped his head back again. Your heart skipped a beat when he did. 

His sharp features relaxing, his eyes gently closed in bliss, his delicate hands squeezing your waist. He was utterly gorgeous. And he was all yours right now. 

“You feel so good, doll,” he mumbled, smiling weakly. The relaxation of not having control, to be taken care of, was euphoric. He’d felt at peace, calm. 

Seonghwa opened his eyes and looked up at you with nothing but adoration. As you looked back at him, you felt something new. Something so powerful, it made your heart ache. Something that made warmth spread over your whole body. 

It can’t be love. There’s no way. 

You took a breath and pushed the idea out of your head. You tried to ignore the ache in your chest. The butterflies in your stomach. 

You looked away from Seonghwa and bounced on him faster and harder, gripping onto the couch cushions. His hands slid down and locked around your hips. His eyes changed to surprise as you continued to increase the pace, clenching down on him tighter as his head hit your spot. 

A choked gasp left his lips as you fell into this new rhythm. Seonghwa’s eyes rolled back as he squeezed your hips. He pursed his lips to keep in all the louder moans and whines that wanted to escape him. 

You yourself were struggling to keep quiet too, your arms beginning to tremble. The pleasure was rocketing up through your bones, making fire burn in your bones. 

“Jagiya,” Seonghwa whined, “Don’t stop, it feels so good.” He squeezed your hips tighter. His lips turned to a tight line as he squeezed his eyes shut again to keep quiet, but there was a still constant stream of whines and whimpers. 

“I won’t,” you breathed, gulping nervously. You were trying to stay strong to keep going, to do good for him, but your arms continued to shake as you did. 

With how tight he was clinging onto you, the whines and moans he let out, his blissed out expression, you were just as weak as he was. 

But at the same time, you felt pride knowing you could make him melt like this. You were making him whimper, he was the one with his head back, clinging onto you. 

A smirk crept onto your lips as you ran your hand up his chest to pull his nightgown aside and play with his nipples again. Seonghwa’s eyes flew open with a gasp, looking down, then back up at you. The surprise quickly turned back into pleasure as he bit his lip with a whine. 

“Yes sweetie, just like that.” His nails dug into the fabric of your shirt. “I’ll come if you keep this up, please don’t stop.” 

You were on cloud nine hearing him beg for you with barely held back whimpers. 

“Come for me, Mommy,” you whispered, fucking him faster again, your own orgasm nearing. You were hardly able to contain yourself and keep your pace consistent as you chased your high, your brain going foggy with pleasure. 

Another whimper fell from Seonghwa’s lips as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders instead. You watched as his breathing grew heavier and his noises were all growing choked. You clenched around him as his eyes rolled back again. 

“I’m coming, cover-” He tried to say, but you leaned forward and smashed your lips onto his, swallowing all the whines and whimpers Seonghwa let out as you came all over him. 

He followed soon after, and you fucked him through it until it was over. Your brain turned to mush hearing all Seonghwa’s muffled cries against your lips, feeling him twitch inside you until he went still, after you milked him for all he was worth. 

You pulled back from the kiss once you were both done, and you both smiled in a daze. Seonghwa reached up and held your cheek, running his thumb over the bone. 

“You did wonderfully, sweetheart,” he whispered, softly panting. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” you whispered back before you pulled away. You slowly pulled off of him and got rid of the condom. 

You both sat back down on the couch, cuddling afterwards, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the afterglow. 

“What was this movie about again?” You asked, suddenly remembering that’s what you were originally doing. Seonghwa laughed as he reached for the remote to turn it off. You smirked as an idea for a joke appeared in your mind. “I fucked you so good, you don’t remember?” 

Seonghwa laughed again. “Maybe you did.” 

You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you went for it anyway.

“Aww, Grandma’s losing his memory.” 

And that was the moment you sealed your fate. 

Seonghwa turned his head to you, but not with anger, or even annoyance. He looked at you with slight amusement, but also with a question in his eyes: “Is this really what you want to do?”

“Who are you calling Grandma?” 

You made a show of looking around the room, being dramatic with your movements as you craned your neck. “I don’t see anyone else-” 

Seonghwa grabbed your throat and pinned you down on your back on the couch, staring down at you. Your heart stopped for a moment, but you calmed when you realized he wasn’t angry. 

“Should I show you how much this “Grandma” can still do?” He mused, leaning closer to you. “How much I can still make you shake? How much I’ll make you cry my name?” 

You clenched your thighs together at such a promise. You nodded with wide eyes, to which Seonghwa smirked in sadistic delight. 

“Then sit back up and strip yourself.” 

You did as he commanded without a second thought, sitting up in the middle of the couch and stripping your bottom half. Seonghwa fixed his ponytail as he got on his knees in front of you, forcing your legs apart. 

“Keep quiet for me,” he said as he reached forward to slowly stroke you. “Alright? If you get too loud, I’ll stop.” 

“Yes Mommy,” you breathed, your voice wavering slightly. 

“Good doll.” 

You shivered as his tongue slipped out of his mouth and ran from your slit to your clit. He was slow and methodical, taking his time to lap up some of the slick that pooled there before he dared to give your clit little sweet kitten licks. 

Your heart fluttered when you heard him swallow. He made sure it was loud enough for you to hear, even adding on a soft moan at the end before he continued to lick at your clit. 

His hands rested on your thighs, drawing little circles on the inside, making you tense under his gentle grip. He squeezed them when he felt it. 

Your stomach did somersaults as he looked up at you as he continued to lick at your clit. He sped up when he did, angling his tongue to focus on the sweet spots before licking up some of your arousal again and going back to it. 

And all of it was making it nearly impossible for you to keep quiet. 

Seonghwa knew it, and he was loving every second of watching you struggle to contain your moans. He smiled when you had to cover your mouth with your hand. It was his sign to do more. 

Seonghwa’s lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. And he wasn’t gentle, no, he sucked hard from the start. 

Your free hand shot out to grip onto his ponytail, to which his eyes rolled back as he continued to suck, moaning softly. The vibrations made chills run over your thighs. 

He took one of his hands off your thighs and ran his fingers up to your slit, teasing your entrance before he pushed two fingers inside you. You gripped his ponytail tighter as he fucked back into your tired hole, curling up into your spot. 

And he was looking up at you as he did it all. Alternating between licking and sucking your clit, finger fucking your cunt, deliberately rubbing against your spot, all with a hungry, determined look in his eyes that made your thighs shake around his head. 

It all brought you closer to that sweet bliss you were craving. You bucked your hips up as you felt the beginning creep up, to which Seonghwa made a soft noise of protest, and he smacked your thigh before he held your hips down. 

He looked up at you again, this time with a warning in his eyes, to which you nodded wordlessly, keeping your mouth shut as tight as you could. 

But fuck, was it hard when all you could hear was the obscene wet noises of his mouth licking your clit and his fingers fucking your hole, the moans he made, when you could see the mess dripping down his neck and all over his mouth, when his hands were holding you down against the couch-

“Mommy, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered out, clinging onto his hair tighter. Seonghwa hummed in answer, and when he didn’t make any move to stop or pull away, you were over only a few seconds later. 

But as you came, Seonghwa yanked your hand away and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. The intrusion makes you choke, but you were so consumed by your orgasm, you didn’t even care. 

Seonghwa pulled his hand away as you finished, leaving you panting and your thighs trembling still. His eyes stayed on yours as he licked up all the arousal that came out of you, taking his time to clean you up. 

His goddamn tongue. 

Seonghwa smiled up at you sweetly, like he didn’t just give you the best head of your life, before he got to his feet. “I’m going to clean up. Would you join me?” 

Seonghwa quietly led you through the house to his bathroom, where you both stripped down and got into the shower. 

The warm water against your skin felt divine, you knew you could fall asleep just like this if you stayed here. Especially when Seonghwa came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you against his chest. You held onto his arms and leaned back into him. 

“You did so good, dear,” Seonghwa said softly against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed and your head dropped back against him. 

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you mumbled, sleep creeping up on you. He smiled down at you as he squeezed you tighter. 

“You can call me Hwa if you want to.” 

“Okay Hwa.” 

He pressed another kiss to your head before he pulled back to grab a bottle of soap. He poured some onto his hands and lathered it up before he came back to you, slowly running his hands all over you. 

Down your arms and back, over your chest, your stomach and hips, and your legs. 

The ache in your chest came back. The butterflies. The tug that was so foreign to you. 

Tears pricked your eyes as Seonghwa led you into the water to rinse you off, still running his hands over you with the same gentleness. 

The ache grew bigger, spreading from your heart to your stomach, to your arms, your legs, and it was all over your body as Seonghwa took you into his arms again. 

It can’t be…How could it be…

You hid your face in his chest as you hugged him tightly. He hugged you back, resting his head on top of yours. Little did you know, the ache was inside him too. The ache was all over his body too. 

“Do you want to sleep now, jagiya?” Seonghwa asked, slowly rubbing your back. You nodded, too scared to speak in case the tears poured down. 

Seonghwa helped dry you off before he wrapped himself in a towel. You both could’ve easily slept naked, and you were prepared to do that, but as Seonghwa began to dress himself in a fresh nightgown, you realized you didn’t have anything to wear. 

Until he went to his closet and gave you one of his sweaters. 

You almost refused and insisted on grabbing one of your own shirts, but as you looked at it, you knew you couldn’t say no. You pulled the sweater over your head and straightened it out. 

The ache in Seonghwa grew again seeing you wear his clothes. How perfectly oversized it was. How adorable you looked in it. 

You both crawled into his big bed, lying on his chest like you always did, with his arms around you holding you tight. 

“Hwa?” You said softly, blinking the tears away again. 

“Yes?” 

You weren’t really sure what to say next. You were terrified of the feeling that was inside you, you didn’t want to think about what this ache could mean. It wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible. 

So what came out instead was, “Thank you.” 

Neither of you were sure what you were thanking him for. It could be anything. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re welcome, love.” 

The tears ran down your cheeks as you finally submitted to sleep. 

If only you knew that Seonghwa had trails of tears down his face as well.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[yandere-genji]

💟—Desperate—💟

part one

nsfw

TW: noncon, dubcon, abuse, yandere

contains: kidnapping, blood, injuries, fingering, human pet, humiliation

reader is gender neutral

It’s cold. Colder than the gray cement floor. Colder still than Ramattra’s metal plating and what scarce heat reflected from its surface. 

Outside, in some distant world, the sun warmed all it touched. But that was stolen from you. He tossed into this barren room, only being taken out to “play”. An activity that involved anything but fun for you. Ramattra’s idea of play meant whatever satisfied his sadistic flavor of the week, any enjoyment you might derive being nothing short of error.  

You had stopped trying to count the minutes, lost track of the days without the sun. Wherever your family way, you only prayed that they escaped the clutches of his forces, found refuge in some other city. It was the only hope you had, however foolish. There was no energy left in you to contemplate whether death was a worse fate than being reduced to whatever you had been made to be. 

A streak of white light swallowed the room. Repulsed, you shielded yourself, chains shuffling as you moved. Two voices spoke, Rammatra’s robotic hum and another you can scarcely recognize. 

“My,” an omnic voice chided, “What a mess you’ve made. A remarkable visage spoiled by your folly.”

“Shut up and take your reward,” Rammatra spoke, turning away. You adjusted to the light and recognized the other voice as soon as you matched its face. The other omnic that found you that day. The day you were kidnapped. Sleek as you remembered him, in polished steel and a well-tailored suit. 

“Not so fast,” his gaze fixed on you, but not in address, “I have something more in mind.”

“I said,” you flinched as his voice darkened, a sound you had heard at your most vulnerable, “Take your reward. Before I stop feeling so generous.”

“Have some sense. You’ve no mastery in handling delicate things, and what a precious creature you’ve caught. You’d be a fool to let this one go to waste,” he walked towards your withered body. 

“What harm is there to wasting it?” 

You couldn’t help the desperate sobs that erupted through your slitted eyes, praying someone could save you from this hell. Almost as if to answer you, the other omnic bent on his knee and raised to hand to cup your cheek. 

“Don’t fret, dear. I have ways to make your master soften. Just follow my lead, won’t you?”

You kept your gaze low and nodded shallowly. 

“No doubt you’ve fallen for their charms - if your frequent visits to your quarters are any accurate measure. You don’t mean such harsh words.”

“Please,” he scoffed, “I am not nearly as weak as you. Humans bring me no pleasure.”

“And yet,” the omnic hummed, “You keep them displayed like this. What a sight, indeed. Turn over, pet, let me see what your master has done to you.”

Despite your shame, you fulfilled his command, lifting your head and displaying your back to the two omnics. You hear gears turn in an amused purr as his hands examined your recently used body. 

“I want no part in this, Maximilien. I had no intent to lead you here, but you have earned it. So do as you please and then take your leave.”

The smaller omnic - Maximilien - continued to lap around you. He leaning down and whispered in your ear, “Let me show you how much more skilled I am than your little master.”

You knit your brows tight enough to make your head ache and your stomach tensed. You had endured too many nights at Rammatra’s mercy, so much trauma that left you bloody and sore. Hours each day spent on your back, poked and squeezed until his marks colored your flesh a deep purple. A toy to spend his idle time when he needed to relieve himself. And now he was giving you to his friend. 

He seemed already fascinated by the bruises on your body. You can imagine why - the smooth tips of his fingers grazing your tender skin, only to stab at your your nerves just to hear you scream. If he was anything like Ramattra, maybe. What other tortures men like them enjoy, you didn’t want to think about. You would be witness to them soon enough. 

A large, unmistakable clawed hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away. 

“A dangerous taunt from such a small creature,” how surprising it was to hear someone with such a passion for his own people to spit an insult with the same venom you had heard in your own little town. 

“What keen ears you have, dear brother,” Maximilien hummed, “I had hoped you’d have other matters to attend to. Surely more important than this pet of yours.”

He pulled you closer with a strength you feared might severe your arm right then and there. And yet you leaned into him, somehow finding some comfort in his protection. Even if it wasn’t as intended for you as you would’ve liked to think. 

Faint light shone white on Maximilien’s polished loafers, rolling like a pebble with each step he took. Ramattra released you, his shadow shrouding you in darkness. The smaller omnic kneeled, sharp eyes on yours. They burned like flames sunken in his face and fueled your fear. 

But his touch was gentle, delicate fingers grazing your skin. Your breath jumped, skin rose in bumps as his fingers tips traced your shape. He cupped your chin and lowered his gaze. Your chest tightened, metal digit resting on your lip. He pushed further and your body responded before you could choke on the moans that left from your lips. His blazing eyes soften. 

“Beautiful.”

Ramattra’s hand cupped underneath your chin, lifting your head high and you met the gaze of the same stoic face you learned to fear. He reveled in contorting your body in awkward positions. Maximilien tutted in disapproval, “Why don’t we show your master what a lovely pet you can be?”

Your eyes were wet and you fluttered away heavy tears. He must’ve taken that as a sign of approval, running a hand over you back as he returned to examine between your legs. Rammatra knelt. All the hours spent at his disposal kept you alert in his presence, like the primal instinct of prey when being stalked by predator. All too exposed to the two of them, you yelped when you felt Maximilien’s noticeably smaller hand creep up the length of your thigh. 

“Don’t be afraid, dear one,” he cooed, “You’ll be getting very comfortable with me very soon.”

You hushed the urge to cry, swallowing a hiccup, and let him continue massaging your inner thigh, touching closer and close to your most sensitive appendage. His hand cupped the swell of your ass, kneading soft moans out of you. The motions teased you most sensitive parts and numbed your mind at the pleasure. He laughed and shook the meat of your thighs in small, rapid movements that sent vibrated the fat of your lower body. You arched your back, missing the pressure between your legs and Maximilien met your plea with a finger lightly dipping into you but not enough to satisfy. 

“So good for me, such a good toy you are.”

You turned frantic at the praise, like a starved man at a feast, moaning and presenting your aching body to him. Eager for his touch. He laughed again. Music, ecstasy. You could beg if you knew the words. 

His fingers sunk into you, reliving the pain from more uninvited encounters. But the entry was much more bearable when his fingers expertly indulged that spot between your legs. You could find sweet pleasure past all the pain. And you let yourself go, moaning salaciously as your mind went blank with desire. Maximilien played you like a puppet, curling his finger inside you and hitting spots so precisely you become putty in his hands. 

“More,” Ramattra’s deep voice killed you moans and stiffened your body. 

“Not yet,” Maximilien focused, no longer playful, “This is a careful process.”

Maximilien’s nimble touch was forced out of you, leaving you exposed as your sensitive body met with Ramattra’s own, sharp and cold. Not at all the comfort you had just known. His large hands dragged you by your thigh and sat you on his knee. 

“What do you think you’re doing, you damned brute?” you never thought Maximilien could be angry before this moment. 

“You’ve had your fun,” the tips of two metal digits threaten to tear you open, rimming you. 

“Gentle!”

“I’m tired of waiting,” you’re already sobbing, but when his unforgiving fingers force their way through you, you’re screaming. There’s no relief when he pulls back, your body far too sore to recover in such a short amount of time before you’re filled again. His other hand held you still, and you would’ve been perfectly still if he wasn’t gripping you so hard enough to cut through your skin. You’ve learned to stop begging, stop crying for help, it only makes things worse. So you sobbed silently, whimpering when you needed to breathe. Maximilien’s hand fell on your back, trying to rub some sort of comfort into you. It meant nothing.

“You didn’t enjoy that show I put on for you earlier?” he asked. 

“I admit,” he relaxed his fingers, “It was sweet. But I tired quickly of pathetic little touches.”

“If you would have waited you would see that I was getting to that,” Maximilien, too, was losing patience, “Enough of this, you won’t make good on any arrangement if you don’t let me take your pet for myself.”

He stopped, he actually stopped. When he released your limp body, the hard ground felt soft as a pillow. Maximilien took Rammatra’s soiled hand and brought it to your face. 

“Clean your master, show him what a good pet you are.”

You would’ve loved to wrap your lips around Maximilien’s fingers, beg him with your eyes to finish you off. But to show that intimacy with Ramattra? Any sign of vulnerability you showed him he was sure to abuse. You closed your eyes tightly, tongue settling at his wet tips and tasting yourself. 

“Eyes up,” Maximilien commanded. 

That stoic face. Still somehow mocking you as you lapped the wetness, the taste and his gaze making you hold back bile. But you did as you were told, until only your saliva was left to glisten on his clawed hands. 

That didn’t satisfy him for long, he was quick to wrap that same hand around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but used his grip as leverage to manipulate you. He had you sit on your knees, head up. Maximilien raised a hand to interrupt the process. 

“Still for just a moment and I can give you something you never knew you wanted,” the promise was invited, would’ve been sweeter without Ramattra here. 

Ramattra hummed, thumb playing with your bottom lip. Peering down at you like a toy he was hesitant in sharing. He freed your neck, “I want you pleading for mercy at the end of this.”

If you hadn’t been so worn down, you might’ve fought back, sometimes wished you had the guts to spit a curse at him. Other times you were glad to be quiet. You shifted your gaze, hoping he didn’t notice your whimpering. Maximilien came forward and raked a hand through your hair. His touch was nothing short of delightful and melting into him became an instinct. Finally spoiled after endless abuse. 

“So sweet for me,” he trailed his fingers down your cheek, lifted your chin and tilted it from side to side, “Your master loves to make a show of you, doesn’t he? Lay back.”

Shifting off your knees, you laid down on the thin blanket Rammatra had made your bed. Maximilien held your knees, rubbed circles into them as he watched you display your body for him. 

“You’ve been lovely, darling, but I want to hear more from you,” he moved his hands to the back of your knees, spreading you apart, “A good pet begs.”

“Please,” you stammered in a whisper, not even sure what you’re asking for.

“You’ll have two masters, now. Address me as such,” he continued trailing down your legs, spreading you wider. 

“Yes, master,” the words burned your cheeks in shame and muted anger. You looked away when he dipped his finger at your hole. Now that you’d been primed by Rammatra, there was no need for him to ease himself into you, yet he still kept a slow pace. His other hand steady at your hip, gently messaging you like a lover taking a virgin. You were still tender, but he eased the pain by thumbing over your arousal, messaging you just enough to ignore the sting. 

He heavied the pressure, drawing soft moans from you again. His finger curled and your body sang in tune, stretching your body in bliss. His other hand tightened, squeezing as he built pressure. He released, sent a slap to your exposed ass and you yelped, “I’m not hearing any begging. Brother, come here.”

You let out pleading whimpers as you watched Rammatra approach. His gaze intent on your body, watched as you squirmed and begged at a mere touch. Maximilien pulled away when Rammatra knelt between your legs, holding your knees apart and spreading you wider than you thought possible at this position. 

“Keep the pressure there and do what you were before. You’ll find much better results.”

His fingers filled you again, never just one, while his other hand took Maximilien’s suggestion. Though gentler, he was not as nimble as Maximilien and would too often painfully spear you. But when he hit just the right spot, the satisfaction was almost worth it. 

“Beg. Now.”

He’d made that command to you before, and you cried and screamed to indulge him. Pleas not made in passion, but in fear. He wasn’t your master, he was your tormentor. The last thing you could imagine was him delighting in your pleasure. And you never thought you’d enjoy his touch. That you’d find bliss in begging him. 

“Please, master,” you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for, but it seemed to do wonders as he had you moaning loudly not long after. He didn’t need to ask again, you’re pleading with him frantically after every moan and by the way he increased to a brutal pace, it’s exactly what he wanted. He inserted another finger, the pain was hot and pricked a tear from your eye - ecstasy. 

He sent a sharp slap to your ass, his strength dwarfing the Maximilien’s touch, while he began to scissor three claws inside of you. Your hands hurried to soothe the pain, stop it somehow but Maximilien caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. You tried for him to find sympathy in your wet eyes, but he kept you still as Rammatra stretched you impossibly full. 

“That’s it, faster,” Maximilien ordered over your panicked, bouncing body with a determined voice. You kicked and squirmed. When Rammatra found just the right spot, the perfect tempo, your body took control. The sensation far too much for you to keep still any longer, so close to release. 

“Yes, faster! Please, please, please,” voice tittering to babbling cries as your master stretched you brutally, his associate pinning you tighter as you came undone. Your mind chased bliss, and every sight is him, your master. 

He can see it, too, that look on your face. Your desperate glances and quaking body, your legs spread wide open for him. You’re his, more than you ever have been before. 

Your ears rang when you came, pain searing your sobering body. His fingers stopped scissoring but were still inside you. Maximilien released his grip and your rolled your wrists, wincing at the raw wounds. When Rammatra removed his fingers, you worried you would never be able to move your legs again. 

He lifted you in his arms, tired and weak. “I will take the pet to my chambers to rest,” he curled his arms and pulled you closer, “I trust you enjoyed your reward. It was well deserved.” 

[vnards]

When Ghost is in trouble...

Price leaves Simon there, making his way back to his lighter to light his still unlit cigar. The Captain began to grumble under his breath as his frustrations continue to heighten. He sits to take a load off his feet. “Cap-“ “Shut up. I don't want to hear a word come out of your mouth, is that understood?” A beat of silence. Price smirked as he took his first hit, “Good boy.” He takes another hit. “’s about time you listened.” Ghost didn't say anything. Price began to unbutton his belt and pants, sighing with the pressure of no longer being compressed together. He reveals his cock and balls, heavy with all the frustrations he’s been struggling with for the last few days. There was no hiding the way Simon's eye examined it. “Here.” Simon starts to stand, “—no, no.” John doesn't give him any direction, knowing Simon doesn't need it. Because Simon knows who he belongs to. Ghost grumbles, but he begins to crawl to Price. John lazily smokes as he watches Lieutenant Ghost finally listening. When Simon is within grabbing distance, John moves swiftly and grips him by the back of the neck, shoving his face down to his boots. ” You’ve been running around my base yelling at officers and picking fights left and right. And for what? Because you forget who holds your leash?” He hisses, his tone low and threatening. The man on his knees suddenly has nothing to say, barely struggles against the grip on his neck pinning him down, forcing him eye to eye with  his captain’s shiny black boots. John notices the quiet. A grin breaks around the cigar in his mouth, “The big bad Ghost doesn’t want to fight anymore, hm?” A teasing sneer, “All because he wanted Daddy’s attention.” That’s when the lieutenant comes back to life, the accusation warming Ghost’s cheeks. He tries to sit back up, but Price is prepared. “Oh, no, no…” The chuckle John lets out adds to the color in Ghost’s cheeks. “You don’t get to act all high and mighty now.” Satisfied with Simon’s shame, John leans back in his chair once again, putting his cigar back in his mouth and moves his pants further down. His proud member on display. He grips himself in his hand and starts to stroke himself, finding an even, yet pleasurable pace. Simon can’t help but watch his captain’s heavy shaft cause his eyes to roll back, releasing all the stress from the day. Stress that Ghost made. Desire began building under Simon’s skin. The want to help, to cause Price pleasure instead of frustration, nearly springs forward. But, Price trained Ghost better than that. John takes in the desperation in the kneeling man’s eyes. He knows that desire is there. He knows what he wants and takes the extra pleasure in not giving it to him. “What is it, boy? This what you’ve been craving all day?” Simon shakes his head in denial. Price growls, one of his boots gently pressing down on the bulge Simon is failing to hide. “Use your words,” frustration continues to lick up his spine. “No.” The hand that isn’t stroking him, reaching out and grips Simon’s hair under the mask, tilting his neck at an awkward angle, forcing eye contact. “No, what? “No, sir.” John is finally pleased. Melting back in his throne as he continues stroking his cock, his toe still on the Lieutenant’s. “Finally, a dog who remembers who owns them.” Simon bristles a bit at all. There’s been an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch.

masterlist