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disgustingtwitches · 3 months ago

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MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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A Crime Against Fashion

Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader

Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants

You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.

But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.

As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.

“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.

You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”

He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”

“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”

Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”

You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.

With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.

“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”

Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”

You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”

That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.

“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.

You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.

“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.

“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.

Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”

His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”

Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.

He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”

You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”

With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.

“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.

Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”

Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”

Oops. Think fast.

“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”

You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”

For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.

“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”

Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”

To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."

You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.

Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.

“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”

Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.

As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.

“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”

You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.

“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”

Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 4 months ago

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Trouble In The Garden- Loki x Reader

Summary: Seems Thors human friend stumbled upon some old plants of Asgard, and Loki is forced to help the gorgeous naked human.

Word count: 1, 751

Though Loki loathed having to live in Asgard once again, he couldn’t help the admiration and enchantment he felt when looking at the stunning flowers that filled the gardens. Though he was no longer in a cell, he still felt trapped in Asgard and pretty much confined himself to the library or his room.

Loki would love nothing more than to be in the library right now, but since Thor had brought you to Asgard, you seemed to make it your mission to annoy him. Every time he tried to get some peace and quiet, he could hear your infuriating voice or laughter. Just yesterday he went to the library, seeing you were no where in sight, but the library was exactly where he found you. You had ruined his haven, so to the gardens he went.

There were many gardens in Asgard, but the ones Loki walked were some of the oldest. Though a lot of the garden had been forgotten and seemingly lost to time, the flowers still seemed to bloom perfectly.

Loki had begun to bend down to admire a particular flowers beauty, but as with the library, it seemed he was interrupted by an awful scream.

Rolling his eyes, Loki was beginning to become fed up with his lack of peace and quiet. Abruptly straightening himself, he began to storm over to the source of the continued wailing noise.

Walking past rows of lush flora, he found himself at the back gate of the garden. His brow furrowed in a quizzical look as he unlatched the gate and walked through.

This certain part of Asgard had been discarded for a long time, mainly full of dangerous and poisonous plants. Of course Loki himself knows the area well, but many others would not even think to venture here.

Walking closer to the source of the wailing, it began to sound more animalistic, like growls and pants instead of human type screams. The closer his feet carried him to the source of the sound, the more he realised where his feet were taking him.

Though this part of Asgard held many dangers, it also held things that if used correctly, could be quite enjoyable. Going through the dangerous parts of this area would lead to what some Asgardians would refer to as the ‘party plants’.

They were plants that weren’t used as commonly anymore, but Loki had grown familiar with a few of them when he was younger. Psychedelics and mood altering plants were the main ones, but from the direction he was going, he knew that the growling came from a plant used for other means.

This plant was one that shut down inhibitions and raised libido. Again, Loki had definitely enjoyed this certain plants at times and began to chuckle to himself thinking of what pleasure this poor person could be craving.

His smirk however turned to a look of shock as he noticed that the person affected was actually you, Thors friend, Thors human friend.

“Oh no.” He muttered to himself, watching your naked form writhe on the forest floor.

While such a plant is fun for Asgardians, it is still very strong, and for a human, it could possibly be deadly.

You may infuriate Loki at times, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought of you in a less than innocent way. He often tried to ignore you, but he did often find himself staring and possibly even fantasising.

So to see you now, completely naked, covered in sweat with a distinct wetness covering your thighs, well he didn’t mind being the hero in this case.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He softly asked as he gingerly approaches.

He knees down and places a soft hand on your shoulder, trying hard not to stare at your gorgeous body as he does so.

Since the moment the flower had affected you, you felt your brain was in this foggy haze, you barely even realised Loki was approaching you. Once his skin touched yours however, it was like the fog immediately vanish and your whole body and mind filled with need and heat.

Your eyes flung open at the contact, revealing dark orbs where your once bright eyes were. An almost hiss left your lips as you pounced onto Loki, knocking him to his back with a new enhanced strength.

Once you had him pinned with your thighs straddling his hips, you wasted no time in ripping his green tunic right down the middle. You tear at the back of the tunic as you leave vicious kisses and bites all over his neck and chest.

“Y-y/n, stop.. I- I can help yoouu aawwhh.” He moaned out, the mix of both your kisses and grinding becoming too much for him.

“I know you can.” You smirk down at the god below you devilishly, as you tug his head back with a handful of hair at his scalp.

Wasting no time, you shove your lips down onto Lokis in a messy and desperate kiss. All effort of wanting to help you in any other way is lost with your dominating actions and powerful kiss.

Moaning into the kiss, Lokis hands grab onto your bare hips tightly, as he pushes you to grind harder against him.

His skin on yours lights that desperate and primitive fire in you once again. Breaking the desperate kiss, you can’t help but let out a loud shouting moan. Pushing your breasts against his now exposed chest, you can’t help but need to feel more of him.

Licking at his pale chest, it’s like you’re possessed as you push your body and your face further down his body. Quickly reaching his matching green linen pants, you rip them off his body too, exposing his large and desperate cock to you.

Finally seeing what you’d been rubbing against and craving, you let out a loud and desperate whining moan.

Licking one long strip up his cock, Loki shudders below you as he begins to rise. Pushing him down with your new enhanced strength, your black eyes meet his green.

Staring at him like a lion would its prey, Loki surprisingly begins to feel both intimidated and extremely aroused. He’s never wanted someone to ruin him so much as he wants you to right now.

Growling once again, your hand shoots up to his throat, holding him down as you once again straddle his hips. Now with your bare pussy coming into contact with his hard cock, you feel that need again, as you desperately grind against him.

“I need you, Loki.” You choke out, the heightened pleasure almost feeling too good.

“Take what you need from me, darling. I am here but to serve you.” He chokes out.

Loki surprises himself, finding how much he really does enjoy a submissive role. He doesn’t know what’s come over him but with you above him like this, he would give you anything and allow you to control him however you pleased. In this state he was nothing and you were everything, a mad and hungry goddess who he wishes to please and have nothing in return.

The wicked smile that appears on your face causes a choked moan to leave Lokis desperate parted lips.

With both the hunger that the pollen has given you, and the way it has made your pussy drenched, you waste no time in sinking down onto Lokis massive cock.

As soon as he fills you up, you immediately begin to harshly bounce, grind and rock against your lover. Your hands dig into his shoulders with a strength that begins to hurt, but Loki finds he likes it. His hands grab at your hips once again and this only causes you to howl out even louder at the way his touch sets your skin alight.

Looking down at him, the more you draw your pleasure from him, the more your eyes begin to turn back to their regular colour. Your grip on his shoulders loosen and the affects of the pollen seem to wear off the closer you are to your release.

Loki never breaks his eye away from you, feeling like they draw him in. While keeping your eye, his fingers make their way from your hip, to your clit, lightly rubbing it. It’s only as Loki makes contact with your clit do your eyes finally close and your head is thrown back.

As Lokis fingers speed up, your movements become sloppier and less powerful.

“I’m gonna cum! Please Loki cum with me! Fill me up please! I need to feel you! Oooohhh!” You desperately beg to the god below you.

Though your dominating actions have begun to die down, Loki still sees you as a goddess, and he still wishes to serve you.

“Doing so well, my gorgeous darling. Making me feel so good. You gonna cum with me, my queen?” He pants out below you.

“Yes! Yes! Yeeesss! Oooohh Looookkkii!!” You scream out to the canopy of trees above you as a powerful orgasm washes over your body.

Lokis release follows immediately, as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours with a growl. You however were too exhausted to realise, and by the time he came down, he saw you were asleep peacefully on his chest.

*****

By the time you awoke again, you noticed you were in a large comfortable bed, your skin clean and you wore new clothes. Pieces of the event came back to you and once you saw Loki come through the door with tea and food, it all came back at once.

Looking into his eyes, you were no longer that powerful and dominating force, instead you resembled more of a timid animal.

Loki smiled at you softly as he brought a tray of tea and sweets to you.

“How are you feeling?” He quietly asked.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m s-so sorry.” You began to plead at as tears began to brim in your eyes.

“No no no. Ssshh ssshhh. It’s okay, darling.” He gently soothed at his hand stroked along your cheek.

Closing your eyes, you let out a shuddering sigh, his touch enough to put you at ease.

“I quite enjoyed it, and I wanted to take care of you, both then…. and now.” Loki shyly admitted as you stare lovingly at each other.

Staring into his eyes, a memory of something he’d said made a smirk appear on your face.

“So, your queen huh?”

#loki #Loki x reader #Loki imagine #marvel #MCU #marvel imagine #MCU imagine

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