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annewithaneofthegreengable · 6 months ago

Text

Smile, we're on the camera

max verstappen x reader

Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, public sex,..

my masterlist

“Here?!” you screeched.

“Yeah.” Max shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?”

You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Max? We’re in a damn photo booth!”

The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?”

The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however.

"So?" you sputter, eyes wide in disbelief. "Don't you have any decency, any boundaries?!" Max's stoic face only serves to enrage you further. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it,"

Max slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path of going out of the photo booth.

“We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.”

A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?”

The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them.

You gulped as Max slowly licked his lips, giving you a once-over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up.

He walked you backwards slowly, step by step until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his menacing words, your body instinctively pressing back against the cold metal wall of the photo booth as Max's muscular frame loomed over you. The heat of his breath on your neck, the raw intensity in his voice - it was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your dress, as his hands gently but with confident grip move up from your thighs. They slide around to cup your ass, pulling you even closer against him.

You thought you could tamp down the moan trapped in your throat, but you were sorely mistaken when it unleashed without remorse. Your chest heaved with exhilaration and your fingers twitched excitedly at the prospect of something so scandalous.

“So what’s it gonna be, Liefje? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”

You had not expected this outcome when you had dragged your boyfriend over to the booth. You wanted to take cute pictures and add them to your keepsake memory box. Now you were deciding your fate; whether you would be leaving your dignity in the tiny stall or chance getting arrested for public indecency in the middle of the shopping mall.

Max raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer.

“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation.

The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Bingo.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Max hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always.

“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his hair, trying to grab a hold of it tightly.

“Maxie, I swear to God, if you ever cut your hair short again I will leave you then and there.”

Max chuckles against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your body. "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he murmurs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jaw and neck, all the while keeping you lifted in his arms.

Even after so many years, the spark between you and Max was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin.

He continues to pepper kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your arms as he makes his way to the sensitive spot just above your breasts. Your nipples ache in response, and you arch your back, pressing your chest against his.

“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out.

You gasped at the sight. Max really was hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger.

The sight of Max, so clearly overwhelmed with desire for you, was indeed a powerful aphrodisiac. The way his throbbing member twitched with need only served to fuel your own desire, your thighs clenching around him in response.

Max's hand finally made contact with your skin, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His fingers traced a path up your side, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Liefde?"

You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.”

His hand reached your breast, cupping it possessively as he squeezed the soft flesh through the fabric of your clothes. "You're so responsive to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how hard your nipples are, even through the thin fabric of your top.

The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Max!” you scolded. “Those were new!”

Your heart raced as Max's fingers hooked into the waistband of your new, now destroyed lingerie, effortlessly peeling the delicate fabric away from your heated skin. The cool air of the small photo booth caressed your exposed lower half, a stark contrast to the burning desire that seemed to radiate from the man holding you.

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.”

You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?”

Max chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”

Smug bastard, you cursed internally.

“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, mijn kleine meid.?”

You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Max sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”

The sudden surge of pleasure that coursed through you at Max's forceful thrust stole your breath away. Your back arched instinctively, pushing yourself harder onto him. The roughness of his actions, the sound of his breath hitching, it was all too intoxicating.

Max's hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin. His thrusts became more urgent, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you with each movement. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was almost overwhelming.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as Max's pace quickened. Sweat dripped from his forehead, onto your skin, as he lost himself in the sensations. The air was thick with tension, heavy with anticipation, as you both hurtled towards the edge of a shattering climax. "Max...

The nails of his fingers dug crescent shapes into your bare thighs, but the sting of pain was nothing compared to the slow drag of his cock leaving your cunt. You whimpered as his thick girth left you inch by inch until only the tip sat inside of you.

“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked.

"Please," you whimpered, not even realizing the word had escaped your lips. Max's grin was wolfish as he began to ease out completely, just the head of his cock nestled against your entrance. He rocked back and forth, teasing you with the promise of returning to your warmth.

“My baby is so polite. Come on, tell me, Liefde, what do you need and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

"Please, Max," you managed to gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. The denial was torture, the touch and then the swift removal driving you crazy with need. "Please, fuck me, fill me up again."

He shrugged. “Good enough.”

A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Max thrusted his hips up, his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing him to touch every part of you. Max obliged, grinding against you with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. "Take it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "Take every inch of my cock."

Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”

Max fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story.

“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’ve thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.”

Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple.

“You markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?”

You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Max’s scalp.

Max's eyes rolled back, his pupils constricting as he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. The sound of his ragged breathing and the wet slapping of his cock against your pussy filled the air. The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, Liefde. I’m all yours.”

Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”

“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, Liefje,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?”

You tried, you really did. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly stroked against the sensitive spongy spot of your pussy made your inhibitions blurry and you couldn’t help moaning like a whore.

Max tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth.

You hummed around them instantly while staring into his eyes. He made you this way; a willing body for him to toy with, a woman who was quick to fall under his command and you lived for it. You gargled around his large fingers as you jolted each time he drove his cock into you, drool dripping down from your chin and landing on your boyfriend’s lower stomach and dick.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.”

You sucked on his fingers, your eyes half-lidded with desire as he began to take control. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and trailed them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.

His fingers danced around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before he slowly slid them back inside you, plunging deep to stroke that sweet spot once more. You whimpered, your body trembling with pleasure as he bit gently on your earlobe. "You're going to come for me, baby?"

His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed.

“Shit, you sound so pretty.” His eyes darted towards the swinging panties still attached to your ankle and he quickly removed his fingers to grab them. “Such a good girl for me, baby. But I think we need somethin’ a little more efficient to quiet my eager girl down.”

Before you had the chance to whimper again, Max shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”

Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention. Max groaned, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple as he fought the urge to thrust deeper. "Fuck, babe, you're so tight... so goddamn wet." He grunted, trying to maintain control.

“Mhm!�� you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface.

The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Max’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock.

Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Max did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Max discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer.

Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, baby?” he asked, short-windedly while his thighs trembled.

You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel.

“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily.

“Good. Ready, Liefde?” he asked.

Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began.

“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him.

“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out.

“One.” On his final count, Max pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photo booth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream.

“Holy— F—Fuck!” Your boyfriend’s shout echoed across the white walls while his fist slammed next to your head. A huge load of his cum shot up into your cunt, overflowing the already full hole.

Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline-filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Max and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time.

You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Max enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek.

“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, baby.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.

Max’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?”

You lightly smacked his chest, even if you couldn’t contain your own cheesy smile. “Nope. I’m not inflating your ego more than it already is.” Turning your head to the screen of the booth, your eyes widened at what you saw. “No, you did not.”

“Oh, but I did,” Max said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.”

“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless.

“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.”

“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.”

Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Max made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun.

“Come on, you.” He lightly slapped your ass before ripping the curtain open. “We’ve still got some shopping to do.” He stepped out, whistling to himself like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless and held his hand out for you to take.

“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought.

Max leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?”

You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face.

With a huff, you exited the photo booth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Max’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.

Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream.

“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.”

Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish.”

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thevillainswhore · 10 months ago

Note

You Look Good On Camera, Baby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Bucky’s not letting you leave the photobooth, not until he’s had his way with you.

Warnings: Established relationship, teasing, kissing, smut, public sex, p in v, quickie, finger sucking, uses panties to keep reader quiet, creampie.

Author’s note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics by @rookthorne

Aaand all of a sudden we have another oneshot. Sigh. This one has actually been on my mind since these pictures were first released so a big thank you to Lana for finally giving me the push to make it happen 🤭 really enjoyed this one 🤍

“Here?!” you screeched.

“Yeah.” Bucky shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?”

You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Bucky? We’re in a damn photobooth!”

The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?”

The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think we’re doing it in public,” you scoffed before beginning to make your way out of the stall.

But you were quickly stopped in your tracks as Bucky slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path. “We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.”

A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?”

The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them.

You gulped as Bucky slowly licked his lips, giving you a once over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up.

He walked you backwards slowly, step by step, until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.”

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer.

“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation.

The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Clever girl.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Bucky hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always.

“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his long hair, pulling it tightly.

Even after so many years, the spark between you and Bucky was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin.

A string of saliva connected between your lips as Bucky pulled away for air. While he was reckless for suggesting such a depraved idea of public sex, he was smart enough to realise the two of you were short on time to make it happen.

“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out.

You gasped at the sight. Bucky really was hard for you already, if the angry looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger.

Your boyfriend squeezed your hip. “You like seeing me desperate for you, huh baby?”

You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.”

Bucky growled with a smirk. “You’re a fuckin’ tease, girl.”

The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Bucky!” you scolded. “Those were new!”

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.”

You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?”

Bucky chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”

Smug bastard, you cursed internally.

“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, doll?”

You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Bucky sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”

Bucky panted breathlessly, just as affected as you. Though he still had the gall to tease you. “You were saying?”

You lifted your head to glare at him, still winded. “You’re damn lucky I love you.” And though you wanted to scold your boyfriend for his cheek, you couldn’t help but squirm on his cock. There was only so much you could take until it wasn't enough — you needed him to move. To feel the delicious scrape of his length against your tight walls. “Now shut up and fuck me before someone comes.”

“You’re so hot when you boss me around,” Bucky moaned before kissing you with urgency.

“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked.

You blew out an impatient huff and tugged on his hair harshly until he groaned. “Give me your cock, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Good enough.”

A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Bucky thrusted his hips up, the full nine inches of his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”

“Should’ve begged like I asked and maybe I’d have gone a little easier on you, sweetheart,” he said tauntingly.

“If you ever think that I would want it easy then you don’t know me at all,” you clapped back.

Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”

Bucky fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story.

“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’a thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.”

Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple.

“You markin me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?”

You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Bucky’s scalp.

The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, doll. I’m all yours.”

Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”

“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?”

Bucky tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.”

Your back slammed against the wall of the stall and the force of Bucky’s hips rocked the whole thing back and forth. His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed.

Before you had the chance to whimper again, Bucky shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”

Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention.

“Are you that fuckin’ soaked for me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s eyes rolled back as his cock throbbed at the feel of you. Even though you were wet, your walls still hugged his shaft.

“Mhm!” you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface.

The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Bucky’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock.

Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Bucky did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Bucky discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer.

Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, doll?” he asked, short windedly while his thighs trembled.

You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel.

“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily.

“Good. Ready, baby?” he asked.

Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began.

“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him.

“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out.

“One.” On his final count, Bucky pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photobooth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream.

Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Bucky and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time.

You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Bucky enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek.

“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you, until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.

Bucky’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?”

“Oh, but I did.” Bucky said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.”

“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless.

“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.”

“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.”

Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Bucky made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun.

“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought.

Bucky leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?”

You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face. “You wait until we get home, you little shit.”

An excited gleam twinkled in his eyes. “Can’t fuckin’ wait, baby.”

With a huff, you exited the photobooth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Bucky’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.

Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream.

“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.”

Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish, big boy.”

But Bucky smirked, a wickedness in his expression. “I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade you somehow.”

Author’s Note: There may be huge potential for a part two 🫣

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot

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st4rg8te · 22 days ago

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The Villainess' Redemption (P. 1?)

Various! Yanderes X Ex-Villainess! Reader

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Synopsis: You were once the villainess from some poorly-written romance novel, and somehow, you’ve ended up taking the place of a girl who shared your name—a girl who died while reading your story.

This world is different. Here, you’re no longer tied to a script or doomed to a villainess’s fate. Can you rewrite your ending, and find a place for yourself in this new reality?

(aka cliche villainess reader gets transported into the modern times and suffers a lot)

✦✧✦✧

The last thing you remember is the swing of the executioner’s blade against your neck—a fitting end for all the terrible crimes you’ve committed.

Or so you thought.

When you wake up, it’s not the fiery pits of hell that greet you, but a room unlike any you’ve ever seen before.

Through blurred vision, you make out walls impossibly smooth and white, gleaming like polished marble. The light above burns unnaturally bright. The air is sharp and clean, carrying a faint, acrid tang that prickles at your nose.

Was this the afterlife?

Thin tubes are attached to your skin, running from your veins into strange machines you can’t begin to understand. A spike of panic grips you, your breath quickening as your mind scrambles for an explanation.

What if you weren't dead? What if they kept you alive to make you suffer more?

Your trembling hands brush over your body, and your face burns when you realize they’ve stripped you of your former clothes. You’re left in plain, white garments—clean, but thin and exposing.

The indignity is almost as much as the confusion, but you swallow it down, determined to unravel the mystery of this waking nightmare.

On the table beside you lies a book, its presence almost unnoticeable in the room. Yet something about it draws your attention, an unspoken pull that makes your hand reach out despite the unease in your gut.

The front is adorned with a vivid illustration: a man and a woman locked in a tender embrace, their faces soft with affection. There’s something hauntingly familiar about their faces, though you can’t immediately place why.

The title, etched in bold, flowing letters, reads: Enchanted by Fate.

You flip the book open, its pristine pages cool and crisp beneath your trembling fingers.

At first, it seems harmless—a typical romance, the kind that young noble ladies often liked to read. But as your eyes skim the text, a dreadful recognition dawns.

The names leap off the page like venomous snakes: his name—your old lover—and her.

Your heart pounds as anger flares, spreading through your chest. You can almost see her face again, the one who orchestrated your downfall, the one who plunged the blade into your back long before the executioner ever did.

Then your fingers freeze.

Your name.

Paragraphs upon paragraphs detailing your life, your crimes, and your eventual execution. The words blur as the memories resurface—the blade, the crowd, the jeers. Your breath hitches, and the sterile air suddenly feels suffocating.

You slam the book shut, the sound echoing unnaturally in the room, and throw it across the floor. It lands with a dull thud, pages spilling open like a gutted beast, taunting you from where it lies.

That book knew everything. It was impossible. Yet it was real.

With your mind still reeling from what you've just read, you fail to notice the woman entering the room.

Then, the sound of her voice cuts through the fog.

“She’s awake!”

You must have been right. This is your own personal hell.

✦✧✦✧

Human beings are resilient.

So, despite the mental blows you've suffered in a single day, you slowly begin to adjust to your strange new existence in the hospital over the following weeks.

There's so much about this world that you don’t understand, and begrudgingly, you admit that it still frightens you. You can’t shake the feeling that this is all some form of witchcraft.

The nurses, though kind, remind you of your old maids, their faces polite but distant as they introduce you to odd contraptions you can't begin to comprehend.

They call it technology, and they show you things like a 'television,' a box that displays moving images as though alive, and a 'toilet' that can swallow waste with a single flush—something that still seems impossible to you.

They find your lack of knowledge a little concerning, but none of them have the courage to say anything about it, chalking it up to a side effect of your memory loss.

It’s humiliating beyond words to be treated like a clueless child. The condescending tones, the endless explanations of things that feel like they should be second nature—it grates on you until the frustration threatens to spill over as tears.

In your past life, you were always the one in control. You were the influential daughter of a noble family—admired and feared by many. Now, all of that feels like a distant memory, a cruel joke played by fate.

You feel lost.

But the worst part—the part you can never quite confront—is the stranger in the mirror. The face staring back is not your own. You're told she shares your name, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

You can't help but avert your eyes every time you see reflections of yourself.

“[Y/N], are you doing okay today?”

The deep, gentle voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. When you look up, a handsome man comes into focus.

It’s Your Doctor ♡.

Initially, he took an interest in you purely out of professional obligation. Your case was unlike anything he’d encountered before. He had treated patients with amnesia in the past, but never one as severe as yours. Especially considering the circumstances of why you were admitted in the first place. You reminded him of a wild animal—eyes darting with mistrust and fear, shrinking away from your surroundings. And yet, against his better judgment, he found himself drawn to you, compelled by the need to unravel the mystery of your mind. While you lacked even the most basic understanding of modern conveniences, certain skills and knowledge seemed to come to you effortlessly. You could converse fluently in multiple languages. You knew the names and precise uses of every piece of cutlery, from fish forks to soup spoons, and could recount their placement in a formal table setting. It was truly strange. He began to set aside his busy work, stealing moments during breaks to visit your room. It became a routine—teaching you; how to use a water dispenser, explaining the functions of a phone, or describing the significance of certain holidays and traditions.. He relished the way your face would light up in awe at the simplest things. The wonder in your eyes made him feel like he was witnessing the world anew, through your gaze. He still chuckles quietly to himself when he remembers your reaction to the television. The way you gasped, wide-eyed and almost frozen, as moving images flickered across the screen—it was unforgettable. “Pft.” The sound escaped him, soft but audible. A nurse passing by stopped in her tracks, stunned. She had worked with the doctor for years and had never seen him laugh—let alone blush. Yet here he was, smirking to himself like a schoolboy with a crush. After that, whispers began to circulate through the halls: that the hospital’s famous bachelor had fallen for someone.

"I'm feeling fine. Thank you for asking, doctor."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his tone warm. "And you don't have to be so formal with me."

He sits down by your bedside, eyes curved upwards in a gentle smile as he begins to speak again.

"You're being discharged this afternoon. You'll be able to go home soon."

"Home?"

Would that mean that you would have to meet the body owner's family?

Throughout your entire stay at the hospital, not once had anyone visited you except the doctor and the nurse who attended to you daily.

A knot of nervousness forms in your stomach at the thought of finally meeting those people. What if they found your behavior too strange? What if they saw through you?

They didn’t know the truth—that their daughter was gone. Replaced by a stranger.

The doctor seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. Without hesitation, he reaches over, his hand warm and steady as it rests over yours. The gentle squeeze pulls you back to reality.

"Don’t worry," he says softly. "If you feel any pain or discomfort, please don’t hesitate to let me know. And I can give you my contact information—you can call or text me if you need help with anything."

"I... I’ve troubled you enough already," your eyes are fixed firmly on the bedspread, unable to meet his intense gaze.

Maybe it is normal in this world for women and men to touch eachother so casually like this.

"Nonsense," He replies with a chuckle. "Helping you is my job, after all ♡."

In the end, you are sent off with a small bag containing all your belongings and a crisp white slip of paper in hand, the string of digits scribbled neatly on it.

He watches you walk away, his gaze never wavering. A part of him wishes you had stayed longer.

He exhales a long, quiet sigh, his lips curving ever so slightly into a smile. You’ll call him soon.

And when you do, he’ll be there, ready to help.

✦✧✦✧

To your surprise, a nurse leads you to what they call a “car” parked in front of the hospital entrance—a carriage without horses. You feel a small flicker of pride in yourself for remembering the term.

It moves faster than any carriage you’ve ever known. And as the scenery blurs by, you can’t help but press your face to the window, eyes wide with wonder. Towering buildings scrape the sky, their glass and steel glinting in the sunlight. The bustling streets are filled with all kinds of people from all walks of life.

The driver eventually steers the car away from the bustling scene, guiding it into a quieter neighborhood. The streets narrow, and the towering skyscrapers give way to smaller, more subdued structures. Finally, the car comes to a halt in front of a large, old building.

"Have a nice day, miss."

"Ah… thank you," you say softly as you step out, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

The car drives off, and then you're finally left alone.

You turn to face the building, its weathered facade staring back at you. Compared to the grand mansion where you spent your entire life, this place feels cramped and shabby, its age evident in the peeling paint and creaking steps. Rows of numbered doors line each floor, stretching upward in a vertical maze.

Navigating the unfamiliar hallways proves to be a challenge, every turn leaving you more disoriented. When you finally find the staircase, you hesitate. The nurse had mentioned “elevators,” those strange boxes that carried people between floors. But the thought of stepping inside one fills you with unease.

Shaking off the idea, you take the stairs instead, the journey upward feeling longer than it should. Your legs ache with every step, and by the time you reach the supposed floor you live on, you’re out of breath.

At last, you find your door. Apartment 303. The brass plaque gleams faintly in the dim hallway light.

"Hello?"

You knock on the door, but only silence greets you. Anxiety begins to coil in your chest, tightening with each passing second. You glance around the empty hallway, hoping for a sign, a clue—anything. But nothing comes.

Your gaze shifts to the pad mounted beside the door. The arrangement of numbers stares back at you. It should be easy, you tell yourself. Just enter the code.

You press the first digit, then the second. It feels right—like you’re doing what you’re supposed to—but when you hit the final key, the pad lights up red and emits a harsh beep.

Locked.

Your heart sinks. You try again. But the result is the same: a flash of red and that sharp, cold beep.

Again.

Each failure making your frustration rise. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as the sudden overwhelming pressure of everything catches up to you.

The tears spill over, warm streaks running down your cheeks as quiet sobs escape your lips. You feel pathetic.

You miss your family.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to think about them until now—not fully. But their faces stay clear in your mind.

You miss your father’s embrace, your mother’s soothing voice, the way your brothers would tease and protect you in equal measure.

But they are gone. All of them, condemned to death because of your stupid actions.

And now, here you are—trapped in this foreign land, surrounded by incomprehensible machines and alien customs. The people here don’t know you, and you’re certain they never could. You’re an imposter in a world that feels as if it’s actively rejecting you.

And for the first time since you woke up in this strange world, you let yourself finally admit the truth.

You don’t belong here.

✦✧✦✧

"Holy shit lady, are you okay?"

The last thing Your Neighbor ♡ had expected after coming home was to find you sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably by your apartment door.

The two of you have exchanged pleasantries a handful of times, maybe a nod or a muttered “hello” in passing. But it had still worried him a little when he hadn’t seen you in months. Hell, he even figured you’d finally had enough of this place and moved out for good.

"Do you… need help?" he asks, stepping closer cautiously.

Your face burns with embarrassment. You quickly wipe at your tear-streaked face with the sleeve of your shirt, sniffling as you try to compose yourself.

"I just… I can’t get the door to open.."

His eyes flickers to the lock and then back to you. "What, the code’s not working?"

You nod, avoiding his gaze. "I… I’ve tried it so many times, but it keeps locking me out," you say, your voice wavering. "Do you know how to open it?"

"Yeah, I can take a look. Just give me the code."

As he steps closer to the keypad, you wipe at your eyes again, trying to salvage what is left of your dignity.

What is wrong with you? Your mother would have been disappointed at you acting like this.

"Hey," he say after a moment, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Don’t sweat it. This lock’s a piece of crap. Happens to me all the time."

"Um... do you know if anyone else lives in this place with me?"

The man tilts his head, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "I don’t think so."

A part of you feels relieved. The idea of facing her family—the family you now supposedly belong to—had been gnawing at you since you left the hospital. At least you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.

But at the same time, the thought of living alone makes your stomach twist. You’ve never been on your own before. In your old life, you were always surrounded by people—your parents, the servants, ready to spoil you rotten. You never once thought about what it would be like to have to manage on your own.

This is your punishment.

The irony isn’t lost on you. The gods must have seen how you mocked her—your father’s bastard. You used to laugh at her and make fun of her upbringing. Now you can't help but think that she would have done much better if she was in your situation.

"Thanks." you mutter finally, your voice barely audible.

She wouldn't have cried over some stupid door like this and humiliate herself in front of a random man!

"Anyway, that's how you do it. If you need help with anything else, just knock on my door-"

BAM!

Before he could finish his sentence, you were already gone.

✦✧✦✧

Your Neighbor ♡ thought that would be the last time you two would really talk to eachother.

Every time he saw you in the hallway or from across the parking lot, you’d scurry away like a startled rabbit, avoiding eye contact. He figured you were just shy—or maybe embarrassed about how you’d met. Either way, he didn’t expect to hear from you again.

So, he was surprised when, a week later, there was a knock on his door.

When he opened it, there you stood, cheeks flushed an indignant pink, holding a neatly folded napkin in your hands.

"What’s this?" he asked.

"I made it for you," you said, thrusting it toward him. "It’s a gift for helping me that day."

He unfolded the napkin and blinked in surprise. His name was carefully stitched onto the fabric, surrounded by flower motifs.

"Holy shit. You made this?"

It was the sweetest gift he had ever received.

I-I noticed you seem to… sweat a lot. Whenever I see you. I thought it might help," you added, the words tumbling out in a rush.

It took him a second to register what you’d said, and when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, that’s because I go to the gym a lot. Not because I’m just… sweating everywhere."

Your eyes widened, mortified. "Oh! I didn’t mean—"

He grinned, cutting you off. "Relax, it’s thoughtful. Thanks."

There was an awkward pause before he gestured behind him. "You want to come in?"

That moment marked the beginning of something—he wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Friendship? Maybe. But that night, over tea, you finally opened up and told him about your memory loss.

A protective instinct had sparked in him the day he found you crying outside your apartment, and it only grew stronger as the two of you started spending more time together.

Before long, it became a routine—going back and forth between apartments, sharing meals, and finding small ways to help each other.

You didn’t know how to cook, so he often brought over dinner and started teaching you how to make simple meals. At first, you were hesitant, your pride making you stubborn, but he patiently guided you through every step.

Grocery shopping became another shared activity, with him pointing out what to buy and explaining things you didn’t recognize. Though he did like to tease you whenever you added far too many sweets to the cart.

One day, he had casually mentioned his interest in learning an instrument, and before he could blink, you’d practically leapt at the opportunity to teach him. Your enthusiasm embarrassed him at first, but he couldn’t say no to you.

When you discovered the dusty electronic keyboard he’d tucked away in a storage box, your eyes had lit up like it was treasure. From that moment on, you became his self-appointed music tutor, insisting it was your way of repaying him for everything.

“Why do I feel like you’re only spending time with me for the keyboard?” he jokingly asked after yet another lesson.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing this because I want to help you.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin.

The more time he spent with you, the harder he fell. You were blunt and prideful, but also sweet and endearing in a way that caught him off guard. When he told you about his job as a club bodyguard, you had compared him to a knight, which made him burst out laughing.

On his way to the gym, a nosy neighbor had stopped him. “So, are you two dating yet? I remember her asking around about your name once.”

He blinked in surprise before the memory clicked. It must have been when you made that embroidered napkin for him. The image of you nervously going door to door asking around, too shy to talk to him directly, made his chest tighten.

Without thinking, his hand drifted to his pocket, where he still kept the cloth. He was on cloud nine the entire day.

Ah, he’d ask you to be his girlfriend soon. That much he was sure of. If only you weren’t so wary of relationships—and that other man who kept hanging around you. How irritating.

The man claimed to be your doctor, but what kind of doctor visited his patients so often? He wasn’t naive, and he could see the way the guy looked at you, the way he lingered too long in your presence. He knew those signs well enough.

Well, no matter. He’d just have to keep a closer eye on you.

After all, you were his to protect.

✦✧✦✧

EXTRA:

After slamming the door in the man’s face, you sighed in relief.

Finally, some peace.

Turning to the apartment, you fumbled around for the light switch. When the bright light flickered on, it hit you—and so did the sight in front of you.

"What the hell?!"

The walls were plastered with posters—of him. Your old betrothed. His smug face stared back at you from every direction, alongside her, the woman who ruined your life.

You froze, taking it all in. It wasn’t just posters. There were figurines, framed photos, and even a pillow with his face on it.

It didn’t take long to figure out the awful truth. The girl whose body you’d taken wasn’t just any stranger—she was a die-hard fan of the book you came from.

✦✧✦✧

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this wacky gift for New Years. I plan to introduce 2 more love interests if I ever get to writing the second part. They're like color coded. Anyway, this was like massive compared to my other works.

I'm still writing Twisted Affections Pt. 3, but some pieces of smut are probably going to come out before that. Thank you for patience!

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#yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #yandere x you #yandere blog #tw yandere #fem reader #yandere x reader #villainess reader #female reader #male yandere #oc x reader

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slightly-knot-insane · 3 months ago

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kat kat kaaattttt!!! ( ˶˘ ³˘(ˊᗜˋ*)!♡ hi, lovely!! I hope you’re doing okay. may i ask for a naga bf who loves sunbathing with you?

My dear @vhoorlpool sorry for waiting over a month to get your fic 😭 Doing monstertober overwhelmed me a bit.

Heated

Monstertober 2024 - day 24 [ Animal Impulses ] by @ozzgin

[ m!naga x m!reader ]

content: chocking, breath play (kinda), anal, dp, public sex

Your naga boyfriend simply loves the beach. Throughout the summer, you go to the seaside whenever you can. He loves lying in the sun, relaxing or showing off his beautiful scales. People often approach him, asking to touch him, but he politely declines and proudly announces he's taken.

But it's autumn now, and it's been cloudy for days. He is deeply affected by the lack of sunshine and seems almost depressed. "This is normal for all reptilians, I'm perfectly fine," he always says, and you believe him... but at the same time you really want to help him.

One Saturday, a perfect opportunity presents itself. You take your boyfriend by his hand and lead him outside.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"It's a surprise," you say with a wink.

Within 2 hours, you stop your car next to your favourite beach. It is surprisingly warm with no wind or cloud in sight. Naga boyfriend is thrilled - he jumps on your back and coils his tail around your hips squeezing you happily. His snake tongue licks your cheek. "You are amazing!"

The beach was full of people enjoying the last warm days of the year, but it wasn't too hard finding an empty spot. You place your towels and lie down. With a big stretch and a happy smile, your beautiful boyfriend hisses from pleasure. The bright sunlight melts over you. But, unlike your boyfriend, you get too hot very quickly and go to take a swim. He is watching you from afar and you enjoy catching glances of his colourful scales reflecting the sunlight whenever he moves.

After cooling down, you get to your spot. "I'll just go quickly change and I'll be right back," you say. Your boyfriend hums something in response.

You find an empty changing room and enter, but as soon as you remove your wet trunks, someone enters the little wooden house. "Just a moment I—" but you're slammed against the wall. You can't move in the tiny room suddenly uncomfortably full.

A familiar hiss flutters around your ear. Something cold is around your leg and on your stomach. Your boyfriend is completely glued to you, hugging you with his tail and hands. "You didn't lock the door."

"What are you doing? W-what if someone sees?" There is panic in your voice.

He roughly turns you around and kisses you. "Who cares," he murmurs. "It's so hot. So nice. And you are so fucking delicious." His eyes are unusually glossy and his words are slightly slurred. You recognize the symptoms - the sudden temperature spike must've messed with his brain a bit.

He slides down your stomach, licking you. "I love your skin and your body hair," he says while kissing your happy trail. With a lustful hiss, he takes your dick into his mouth. His flexible tongue feels so good around your shaft, moving up and down and paying really good attention to the tip. He moans while coiling himself around you tighter and tighter.

"Wait," you pant staring at the tiny window just above your head.

"I don't care about your human modesty," he snaps. "I will fuck you now. If someone wants to watch, let them watch."

You can't fight with him, not when he is licking your cock like a lollipop. You will just have to be as quiet as possible.

He glides his lower body up and toward your face. His slit is only tiny bit open so you lick your fingers and push them inside. Naga hisses and his scales make a very special movement, similar to human goose bumps. You feel around inside his slit until you find his two dicks swollen and pressed hard against each other. While trying to keep your mouth firmly shut despite wanting to moan like a whore, you push open his slit a bit more so that you could thrust your tongue inside. His cocks immediately react to stimulation and, lubricated by your saliva, slowly slide out.

"Fuck," he pants. "I'm so horny. I can't... I need to..." He hisses very loudly and, the next second, you can't move trapped by his powerful body. His tail muscles are so strong that he easily squeezes all air out of you. With sclera turned red and his pupils as thin as needles, you know you are at his mercy. Completely helpless. His prey and toy.

"I will fuck your tight ass so hard," he hisses. "You are my slut. My plaything. I will pump all I have inside your guts."

"Please..." You can barely form words, your chest gripped like a pet toy, but he hears you and moves his head closer. "Fuck me... "

His dicks are already positioned and throbbing against your ass cheeks and thighs. His self-lubricating phalluses easily slide between your cheeks, grinding against your needy anus. Your naga moans once he pushes one of his dicks inside you and lets his other rub between your thighs.

His slick cock feels so good and your inability to move makes you more sensitive. All you can see, smell and feel is he. He is around you and inside you, he is panting and hissing, his scales are rubbing against your skin, scratching you while his cock is pulsating inside you. Your naga boyfriend bites your jaw in a frenzy, pulling you closer, pumping into you. He likes to switch cocks so after every few minutes a different cock drills you. "My slut," he hisses into your neck and you cum the first time with your own cock pressed somewhere underneath his scaly skin. He feels that and chuckles. "More... More... Aah..."

He plays with your body, rubbing against it, and fucking your ass with both of his cocks pushed inside until you climax again. You moan his name and he is again around your neck, chocking you and thrusting hard into your body. He swells and the wood crack around you. A familiar vibration goes though his and your body and he twitches, once, twice and you feel his smooth liquid spraying your insides.

His grip slowly recedes and you can breathe freely again. He nuzzles your neck, his eyes and sclera normal again, smiling in ecstasy. "Oh shit!" A clear panic cracks his voice. "Was I too rough? It was the temperature, the weather, I couldn't control myself, I'm sorry!"

You laugh, stretching your neck muscles. "I don't mind rough, but this changing room is about to fall apart."

With a terrified grimace, your boyfriend tentatively looks at the door. "You think people... saw?"

"Saw? No. But I'm sure they noticed a changing room shaking and hissing."

"Ah yes, well," he laughs. "Well, if anyone asks, we will just tell them it was the heat messing with them."

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cyberrose2001 · 4 months ago

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Heyo! Can I request some stress sex with Op, fem reader and Ratchet? The two work so hard and maybe some.joking around when mentioning the readers name, the two stressed bots snap, and reader ends up railed into?

TFP Optimus x human!Reader x Ratchet

Hayy thank you for requesting! I've kind of just jumped right into the good stuff since I wasn't entirely sure what you implied with the joking around. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: AFAB Reader, Established relationship, Poly, Implied Mass-Displaced, Cum Dumping + Cum Shots, Masturbation, Fingering, Spit, Slight Oral

Word count: 2,186

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

"C'mere, you." Ratchet catches your chin with a servo, bringing your lips closer to capture them in a long-anticipated kiss. His other servo holds your lower back, inching closer down to cup your ass.

Moaning into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck. Hard steel meets soft fingertips as you play amongst the seams. The medic groans with you as he presses his glossa against your teeth, a gentle command exuding confidence that makes your knees weak.

A new set of metallic lips meets your body. It's a welcomed one, inviting your other lover in by tilting your neck just enough. The Prime licks and sucks at your already bruised skin, reminiscing of all the previous bouts of love poured over you. His servos find the side of your ribcage, running the tips over and between where they lie under your shirt.

"We missed you today," Optimus says breathlessly against your ear, nipping at your lobes, "I apologise for our busy schedule."

Parting your lips from Ratchet, who responds with a groan and a small flick at your lips with his glossa, you turn your attention to the mech behind you, "I don't care," You lift your hand to caress his face, "Just fuck me."

"With pleasure," Ratchet mumbles into your neck, having seized the opportunity to nuzzle himself against you. He dips his servos down to tug at the hem of your shirt.

"Here- let me." Optimus strips the fabric over your head, dumping it on the ground. Ratchet is next, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With hands as dexterous as his, he quickly does so and lets it fall from your shoulders.

Optimus groans at the sight, snaking his servos in front to cup at your breasts. They fit against his palms perfectly, as if you were made for him. He kneads them together, squishing and squeezing them. It causes a soft moan from you, and you lean your chest into his touch. His metal is cold to touch and sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm takin' these off." Ratchet focuses his attention on your pants and dips his digits underneath. He grips your underwear, too, and pulls them down to your ankles to let you step out of them. As soon as he does, Ratchet's dermas are attached to your skin, and he kisses his way upwards. No stone unturned; not one inch of your flesh is spared from his opened-mouth kisses, worshipping your flesh like it's the last time he'll ever get a taste.

You can feel Optimus' impatience poking at your lower back, surely pent up from the stresses of leadership. You can feel your own arousal start to build at the thought of his impatience plunging into you. Rubbing your thighs together to ease some pressure, it catches the attention of both hungry mechs.

"Come on, Optimus," Ratchet grips onto your hips, standing up to full height, which seems to be miles above your head, "Let's get 'em on the berth; I'm far too impatient for mere foreplay."

Optimus agrees entirely, wrapping his arms around your midsection and effortlessly picking you up. He steps back until the back of his knees hits the berth, hauling you up against him. With a small surprised shriek from you, he flops back to lay fully onto the berth, your back lying against his chassis. Your other lover closely follows, climbing up to plant himself between both yours and Optimus' thighs firmly.

"Who's spiking first?" Ratchet asks, placing both servos onto your spread thighs. His optics hold the weight of cement, and he cannot look anywhere but your exposed folds.

"I will allow you first, old friend," Optimus presses his face against the side of yours, "I am sure our little love does not mind either way, hm?"

You nod, a desperate whine dragged from your throat when Optimus snakes his servo around to circle at your clit, "Yes, yes, I don't care, just- just please fuck me."

"I love it when you beg like that," It takes no more convincing from Ratchet to unsheath his spike. It's much smaller than Optimus but large and thick enough to keep you begging for more. He brings a servo to his mouth and spits on it before working his oral lubricants over his spike. Once satisfied, he leans down to kiss the inside of your thigh before letting his lubricants well up in his mouth and spits on your pussy. Optimus chuckles lowly at your reaction, allowing the warm spit to lubricate his digits to spread it all around your folds.

Once he feels sufficiently hard enough, Ratchet presses the tip against the threshold. He's too eager and can hardly wait a moment longer, "Oh, Primus-" He pushes further, slowly working half of his shaft inside.

He's barely seated inside you, and you're already trembling, resisting the urge to cry out. Optimus holds you steady, whispering soft praises and encouragement through it all.

"So well," Optimus watches with hazed optics as Ratchet sinks fully inside you, his digits continuing to work on your bud, "You take Ratchet exceedingly well."

Ratchet lets out a rough grunt, "Though a rather tight fit, might I add-" He leans his body over, making a sexually charged sandwich out of you, "But you feel like fragging silk." He shivers above you, and you've got no choice but to stare into his optics as he withdraws his length and thrusts hard back into you.

"Oh my god-" Your speech falters, and you arch your back against Optimus. Though not as fast-paced as the Prime, the medics feel longer and more powerful each time and ring your vocal cords like a bell.

"That's it-" Ratchet buries his helm into your neck, his work of breathing increasing with every plunge into your plush pussy, "Take it- take all of it."

Optimus chimes in, his voice strained with anticipation and longing, "They certainly are-" The driving force of Ratchet causes your back to grind and rub against his spike. He breathlessly nips at your ear lobe, "Tell him how he makes you feel, sweetspark."

"S-So good-" You moan, stringing together whatever words you can claw at, "Feels so good- nghn-"

"Yeah?" Ratchet grunts as he increases his speed. His grip on your waist tightens with every thrust, all indications point to his overload inching closer and closer, "Gahh- Frag, say my name-"

A filthy rendition of his name falls from your lips, slurred and full of lust for the mech. His thick spike is grinding and pressing against every sweet spot known to humankind. Your hands find his shoulder plating, gripping on for dear life as your own orgasm breaches the horizon. Optimus holds you steady and keeps you from squirming, letting Ratchet indulge in your flesh freely.

"Oh, you sweet thing-" The medic sits upright, pistoning his hips while hungry optics gaze down on your wobbling flesh, "So fraggin' gorgeous."

It takes only a few more pumps of his spike before you call out each other's names. Ratchet presses his pulsing spike as far as he physically can inside you, his frame shaking as he pumps full to the brim. Your body tenses, and your hands shuffle to find Optimus' servos, gripping them as you cross the threshold. The Prime responds by comforting you, intertwining his digits with yours, and murmuring praises against your ear.

"Primus, just when I- guhh-" Ratchet pants, squeezing his optics shut as you clench around him, "Just when I thought you couldn't get tighter." He taps a digit on your other lover's thigh, "Your turn. Ready?"

"Whenever you are satisfied," Optimus says. He snakes his servo to your front once again to prepare for Ratchet to pull out. With a strained groan, he does, and as soon as his spike unsheathes itself from you, Optimus shoves a digit inside to plug you up, preventing the flood of transfluids from escaping you.

"Here, let me help." Ratchet slips Optimus' spike out from under you. He presses the tip against your entrance alongside Optimus' digits, quickly slipping it past your folds, "There you go."

The Prime underneath you groans, vibrating your entire body. He grips your hips with restraint but with enough force to push you down his whole length, helped out by the slick of your pussy and Ratchets' transfluids. The sheer girth has you keening as your walls stretch and clamp down onto it. Ratchets' dermas are automatically on yours to capture your moans and cries.

"Primus-" Optimus lifts you higher onto his hips for a slight adjustment before he begins to move within you. The warmth of your pussy mixed with the hot transfluids has him clenching his optics shut and burying his face against the side of your neck, "You feel wonderful."

"They sure do, don't they?" Ratchet kisses your tear-stained cheek after your soft lips, "You're perfect."

Your ability to speak leaves you when Optimus gives you a particularly harsh thrust, and you cry out his name. Shaky hands find the ones holding onto your hips as you, once again, hold on for dear life as you're fucked for the second time tonight.

Ratchet sits up again, his lust-filled optics trained on the way your pussy stretches around the thick spike, how your face twists in pleasure, and how the drool inches down your chin. You're a complete and utterly fucked mess, and the sight of it all has his spike standing tall and erect once more. He bites his lower derma as he takes his aching spike in his fist and pumps himself, moaning with you and Optimus.

The Prime glances up from your neck, noticing his friend masturbating to you being fucked, "Not- aghh- finished yet, are you, old friend?"

"Never-" Ratchets' hips stutter, gritting his dentae as he squeezes himself from base to tip, "Never finished."

Optimus growls lowly into your ear, "Then we better give him a worthy performance-" He then wraps his arms tightly around your chest, causing you to forget how to breathe for a moment before he fucks up into you so hard you nearly black out. You no longer have control as he pinned your arms against you. He's unrelenting, rutting into you hard enough that the remnants of Ratchets transfluids spurt and dribble out of you. And the said mech groans in approval, jerking his cock faster and faster.

"C'mon, sweetspark," Ratchet edges closer to another overload, shuffling forward so his spike is within inches of your stretched-out hole, "Overload again- nghh- for us-"

"I- fuckfuckfuck-" You whimper out, unable to squirm or even move in Optimus' embrace. Your body starts to convulse, and your head falls back against the mech's neck as your whimpers bloom into sheer, unrestrained, and sinful cries, cumming around Optimus' cock.

"Primus, yes-" The Prime groans, his vocaliser strained. He pushes you down as far as you can take, dumping his load deep within your little organic valve. His own frame begins to tremble, jolting with every squeeze you give him. Your jaw goes slack, feeling every crevice within you filling up with with sticky transfluids. It causes a bulge in your stomach, a wonderous testament to how pliable your little human body is.

Ratchet is close by, desperately pumping his spike. His other servo finds your bulging stomach, caressing and pressing against it, "Frag yes, t-take it..." He moans wantonly, his second overload walloping him. Thick ropes of hot transfluid shoot out onto your stretched pussy, coating your outer lips and clit; some miss and shoot out onto your stomach. It causes another moan to leave your lips, the heat against your sensitive folds sending a tingling sensation up your spine.

He finishes himself off, squeezing every last drop from his tip before he sits on his heels, spikes brushing limply against your inner thigh. Optimus, once barely recovered from his overload, takes a moment to peer over your shoulder to gaze lovingly at the utter mess between your legs. A mess that they caused.

"Goodness," Optimus chuckles lowly, releasing his grip from your torso, "Look at the state you are in."

Your entire groin and everything in between is soaking in their sticky transfluids. It drips down your folds and along the shaft, still buried deep within you. It's a lewd sight, for sure, worthy enough for both of the bots to snap a picture and save it to their internal hard drives.

Ratchet breathlessly laughs with him, caressing your inner thighs soothingly, "Quite the mess, if I say so myself."

"It was..." You pant tiredly, your pussy still clenching around Optimus' dully throbbing spike. Your heart races, but you feel utterly relaxed against his frame as you soak in the afterglow, "Well worth the wait."

Optimus gives you an exhausted smile, kissing the side of your reddened and bruised neck, "I share the same sentiment."

"Speaking of, I hope we all share the same sentiment regarding getting you cleaned up," Ratchet shuffles back and leans down to bury his face between your thighs, licking a stripe up your drenched clit, "I'm peckish for dessert."

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus #tfp ratchet #transformers x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp optimus x reader x ratchet #tfp x reader smut #tfp x reader valveplug #tfp optimus x reader valveplug #tfp ratchet x reader valveplug #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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fatherfushiguro · 5 months ago

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─ ✦ NOBODY ELSE. || TOJI FUSHIGURO

overview hm, maybe you shouldve broke it off over the phone.. content warnings fem reader, no curses/modern au, rough s*x (kinda), cervix f*cking, fwb!toji, overstimulation, teasing, cunnilingus, doggy, petnames (doll, sweetheart, princess) and cheating hehe wc 1.1k

toji fushiguro is, or.. was your fuck-buddy up until recently. your first impression of toji was a stone-hearted fuckboy, never staying in relationships longer than a month, and never falling in love. your meet-ups with him were always strictly reserved for fucking, nothing more and nothing less. so when you got a boyfriend you weren’t sure how to break it to him, and you surely weren’t going to break it off over the phone.

you had been fidgeting with your hands outside his door thinking about what you’d say to him before finally knocking thrice on his door before he swung it open, “what brings you here, doll? left your panties?” he spoke before chuckling. “ah, i’m just kidding, come inside” following him inside, you sat down on his couch.

it seemed like he was finishing up doing something in the kitchen so you had time to gather your thoughts. you never really had the chance to look around toji’s apartment, all your time here was reserved for his bedroom and sometimes the couch.

toji finished up in the kitchen and sat right next to you on the couch, his built figure sinking you and the couch, “so what are you here for sweetheart?” he spoke in a gruff tone, your heart was pounding out of your chest at his simple question. “we can't do this anymore” the words shooting out of your mouth like fire, mind running a thousand thoughts per second while you await his response.

“oh? and why’s that” he was sitting up now, locking his eyes with yours, your flustered face and avoidant eyes. “b-because i have a boyfr-” just then, his calloused hands reached out to grab your chin “don't avoid m’ eyes doll, that's not what we do, is it?” you guys lock eyes with each other “i have a boyfriend toji, we can't keep doing this” he let go of your face, pulling his eyes back from you and focusing on the tv in front of him, his reaction leaves you puzzled “helloooo? did you hear me? i said i have a boyfrien-” he cuts you off and keeps his focus on the tv “does he fuck better than me?” his focus still on the tv, and before you can even respond to him “y’ know, does he eh, make you cum better than' me?” his gaze finally landing on you.

“you have yet to answer my question doll” you were writhing away under him. your face was smushed on the wet pillow under you, wet from your tears of overstimulation. he knew how sensitive you were, yet he decides to still tease you. he had you in doggy with a nasty arch, pounding away at your weeping cunt. he’s so big and bulky against you, his hands skimming all over your body.

“yer pussy’s still tight princess, are ya gonna leave me for some little bitch who can’t stretch ya out as i can? ah, y’ hurt my feelings doll” he repeatedly pounds against your g-spot leaving you a moaning mess unable to form a coherent sentence “t-tojiii pleasee, i can't t-take ittt” he was stretching you out so good, you knew you were done as soon as he slid himself inside your heat. you knew you should've left as soon as you told him you were dating someone. he made it so hard to let go of him.

his hands snaked down to feel you more, his fingers rubbing your clit in fast circles adding to the pleasure you were feeling. “aww, m’ baby can’t take it?” his fingers moving in on your clit faster with precision. “s-sso good, you're so good” he moves with such speed that sends spikes of desire to your core. “i thought you were better than this sweetheart" he teases.

“d’you think yer precious boyfriend would care if i came inside of you?” his hips begin stuttering as they move with such fervor, assuring you he was about to release inside of you. if only you weren’t face down ass up in front of him, you’d be able to see his crazed face. pupils were blown, sweat trickled down his forehead, and a reddish tint overtook his face. he looked like he was drunk off of something, drunk off of you. “i don’t think he’d mind since you're mine anyways” his hips stutter a few more times before you feel your insides being filled, thoroughly. he couldn't resist from how warm your insides were and the way you clenched around him.

the air around you two smelled of sex, your skin was hot to the touch with you having a sheer layer of sweat. there was a beat of silence, a moment of bliss, the sound of your heartbeat syncing with his.

toji collapsed on top of you before he manhandled you further onto his bed, “what’re you doing toj” you croaked out, your voice still shaky from the pressure. “i can’t just leave my girl messy, now can i?” now, toji knew he was a hit-it-and-quit-it type of guy but he for sure, without a doubt had a soft spot for you, an unwavering sense of love. it's kinda why he even agreed to be your fwb, if we're being honest.

he kissed you from your belly button down until he was lying between your thighs, looking at your puffy, glistening folds “this needy pussy wants some attention, hm?”

him giving a kitten lick to your sensitive cunt and grinning when you whimpered, he loved when you made breathy moans and whimpers. he glides his finger through your wet slit, teasing you endlessly. his tongue latches on to your clit, suckling and swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves, lapping up the never-ending waterfall of slick coming out of you. “does yer’ boyfriend make you this wet princess?”

"please dont fuck- talk about him right now" you spoke in a meek, bunny-like voice. chuckling to himself, his laugh sending vibrations throughout your body. his tongue works its way up and down so messily, he sucks the soul out of your heavenly cunt just to get it all wet again. his fingers find relief inside of you while he suckles on your clit, putting them inside of you and curling right at your sweet spot. you let out a cacophony of sweet, honey-like moans, letting him know how good he’s doing at making a complete mess of you.

“hnn, my baby likes when i push here, right?” he pushes right at your sweet spot once again, making you squirm against him. you can feel him grin right against your cunt, “toji’, need more pl-easee, more”

his fingers leaving you empty where his tongue inserts itself, moving in and out of you so deliciously. he rubs your clit with superhuman speed, leaving you overstimulated and so close. “t-tojii m’ sso close, please keep going” the knot in your stomach was throbbing repeatedly waiting for the perfect moment to burst. before toji could make another smart comment on how wet you were, you squirted all over his face, completely soaking him in your juices.

“ah, i bet’ya dont do that for him hm?”

authors note 愛 / i would like to thank grammarly, my sister for reading and screampied for the inspo on this theme ( ≧ᗜ≦)

created by @ fatherfushiguro. rbs appreciated, no plagiarizing allowed duh!

#toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #my writing #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fanfic

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777heavengirl · 3 months ago

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the one with the absence

sirius black x reader ! - 2,647 words masterlist bags masterlist

Sirius noticed from the jump. You never wake up before him. So when he dragged himself to the kitchen just as the sun rose and saw his cup of coffee on the table with a sticky note on the handle, the way he does to you when he knows he won’t be there when you wake up, the curiosity gets the better of him at this moment, calling Lily to ask if maybe you were over there. She hung up on him after he asked his question. Too bloody early

He played with the sticky note, the back of it sticking softly against his pointer finger as he stared at it.

out on an errand xoxo

You hadn’t mentioned anything previously. Hell, you had gone to bed late with him watching the Muggle soap opera the two of you had gotten hung up on. Where on earth could you have gone this early? It makes him feel some sort of queasy, of course, you were allowed your own life, you didn't have to tell him where you were or what you were doing— you certainly didn't have to take him with you. But you always did. Except for now.

He dwells on it for hours, as he cleans the house, as he goes to get a bunch of pictures developed. He can't help but grumble about it even as he does laundry, yours mixed in with his and he tries not to stare too hard at, honestly, any of it. But he brushes it off when you arrive at four in the afternoon, a tired smile on your lips as you take your bag off your shoulder and drop it on the floor. With a wave of your wand, the bag makes its way into your room while you make your way toward Sirius, throwing yourself on the couch.

”Long day lovey?”

“Extremely-“You crawl your way into a fetal position, your head on his lap as you bring your legs to your chest, your left arm thrown loosely over them.

”Did’ya get all your errands done?” He starts drawing circles on your shoulders, snaking his way down your arm with the pad of his finger.

You simply hummed as he switched between channels, playing little mind at whatever he flickered through the telly. It was mostly news and a couple of shitty shows. you still had quite a few hours before you would have to tune into your soap. Sirius decided to ignore the nagging feeling that clawed its way up his throat at the vagueness of your answers.

The second time it happens, Sirius starts getting antsy. Not the day after it first happens but, the day after that, you’re gone again. Your handwriting is quick and cute on the note,

More errands today, picking up some pastries on the way home xoxo

It's curious, and it makes Sirius's anxiety spike. After two years of living together, you had never done anything like this. Errands to do? Sirius tagged along with you, always. The shopping? He's there, carrying all your bags. Visiting your mum? He's there, fawning with your mother over your baby pictures while you have heated discussions with your father in the kitchen. Crying because of your father? He's there, rubbing your back and hugging you close, letting you know the man is wrong. Applying for jobs? He's there, sabotaging your attempts. Out with friends? You'd just tell him instead of being cryptic, or drag him along with you.

He blames himself really, the sort of codependency he had grown used to between the two of you was bound to be stretched. You were both widely independent people. He thinks he's lucky he's had you attached to the hip for this long, but he's sure. He is sure this will pass in a few days.

After the sixth time it happens, he starts feeling like he might rip his hair out. He's held out for an awfully long time. You had disappeared for hours, now four days in a row, so he decides to make the journey two floors down to Remus and Peter’s apartment. Remus swinging the door open at the first knock, regardless of it being an hour after the sun has risen.

“Moony she never disappears like this, especially not this early- it's impossible to drag her out of bed at this hour-“

”You’re giving it too much thought Pads-“

”I’m not! It’s strange, she comes home exhausted-“

”Mornin’ lads” Peter trudges into the kitchen, mousy hair skewed and sticking in every direction, eyes still sticky with sleep. “What are we talking about?"

”Y/N’s been disappearing every morning-" Sirius glances over as he speaks, leaning back into the chair as he watches his smaller friend rummage through the freezer "Why are you-“

”I’m a free man now Padfoot,” Peter frowns, eyes still mostly closed, ice cream tub in hand. “if I feel like having ice cream for breakfast then I reckon I will, besides you got bigger fish to fry-"

"Oi, what d'you mean by that?"

"Lass yer in love with obviously has a boyfriend, lost yer chance there Padfoot" Peter talks lazily, spoon in hand as he shoves the caramel-swirled ice cream into his mouth. Remus and Sirius both roll their eyes, awful sweet tooth that one. But as much as he wants to ignore the tugging in his chest, and roll his eyes with a huff, Sirius knows the thought of you being with another man makes him nauseous "That or she got a job-"

Sirius freezes now, he feels so stupid. A job. It makes sense. you leave early at dawn, arrive around four in the afternoon. You’re exhausted and sometimes he swears he can see ink stains on your fingertips before you scrub them viciously with detergent when you think he’s not looking.

”I thought you were maintaining both of you-“ Remus finds it hard to not smile at Sirius's whirl of emotions. "I still don't know why you guys aren't married and popping out children yet- the two of you are as sickly in love as Prongs and Lils"

"I'm going to choose to ignore that- but I have been, supporting us I mean... but she keeps insisting I'm going to get married to some dumb French model and move away and she'll be homeless or some rubbish I don't know-" Sirius drops his head on his hands, elbows propping him up on the identical kitchen island as the one that came with your apartment.

"Maybe she's the one with the dumb French model-"

"Wormtail- not helping mate-" Peter hums in response as he scrapes up the cardboard tub, rolling his eyes at the way Sirius digs the palm of his hands into his eyes.

"Why don't you just ask her pads- also would it really be the worst thing if she got a job? All the two of you do is rot in your apartment and watch shitty soaps"

"Pobol y cwm is not a shitty soap Moony watch your mouth-"

"Isn't that Welsh?" Remus furrows his brows and yet- the corners of his lips curl upwards as he sips his tea "Great pronunciation by the way-"

Sirius huffs as if disgruntled by the idea that he wouldn't pronounce it properly "We are cultured people Moony- besides we have subtitles-"

"Which ones that one?" Peter is now mostly lying on the table, his head resting against his arm as he spoke.

"People of the Valley, the one that comes on at 8," Sirius says as he pushes the empty ice cream carton back towards Peter, the rolling tub making its way back across the table.

"Oh I reckon that one's quite good, mum always puts in on she never misses it"

"Since when can any of you understand Welsh-"

"What? don't feel special anymore Moony? I'd appreciate it if we got back to my dilemma though, not your judgments about our telly habits yea?"

Remus sighed now, amused at the stress Sirius seemed to put himself under. It wasn't often they saw the boy like this. His demeanor was always cool and suave, even in moments of deep panic. Even at their lowest, Sirius always sported a cool demeanor, small traces of tension slipping through his words if you knew where to catch them. But never more than that. At his worst, Sirius was stoic. Not whatever this spiral was.

"I reckon it's not that deep mate, if she needs a job who are you to stop her?"

"She doesn't need one- besides if she gets one it'll get in the way of us doing things"

"Possessive much? Let her live her life"

"I am no such thing Moony- and I do let her!"

"You should really just confess, it'll get everything taken care of-"

"I am not putting my friendship in jeopardy Moons, I'd rather rot away than have her walk out our door with her bags because I was stupid enough to try to confess-"

"She likes you too idiot-" Remus started to rub his temple and Peter made some sort of noise in agreement, head still down on the table. Sirius's stubbornness wearing both of them down.

"Nuh uh-" Remus felt as if he was talking to a seven-year-old. Or a wall.

Sirius sat on it for a bit longer. There were days you'd be home, and your schedule followed as normal, eat breakfast with Sirius, and do miscellaneous things around your apartment before eventually going out with him, to the market, or some small muggle museum he had found in some magazine. But then suddenly you'd be gone again three days in a row. He allowed this for two weeks, he wouldn’t say anything, or even ask.

Until he snapped.

When you arrived, you opened the door to Sirius pacing around your living room, his bare feet carrying him in circles around the room. The soft padding of his feet on the hardwood floors muted by the carpet when he got to a certain part of his loop, just to start again the second he was off it.

"I didn't know the dog habits bled this bad into your behavior Sirius- should I start buying dog treats or are you going to stop chasing your own tail?" The amusement in your voice was shut down the second he turned to look at you. His hands on his hips as he spoke sternly.

"Where have you been disappearing off to?"

"Oh-"

"Yeah- oh," You didn't think he'd notice- or care. Sure you lived together and were friends. Best friends. You did everything together, and yet you just assumed he'd do something with his time and not mind your absences. "I'm not stupid you know..." You both stood in silence for a beat, staring at each other as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation.

You felt terrible for hiding it from him, you really did. You bit your lip, a nervous habit you had picked up in your teens. As much as you tried to fight it, it never went away, at your worst, you bit and pulled until they bled. "Are you looking for another place?"

"Godric Sirius- No!" You sighed as you threw your bag on the couch, rubbing your eyes with your fingertips. "I've just- I don't know how to tell you this-"

"Well spit it out- it's only me-"

You felt like screaming at him, yes it's you, that's the problem. But you didn't, you sat on the arm of the couch and he moved closer to you, barely an arm away now.

"I got a job, Sirius-”

“Oh-”

"Yeah- oh,” you sighed and tried to not look at the disappointed look on his face. “it's a stupid muggle office job- I’m a receptionist at a travel agency- it's not bad I just- I couldn't keep leeching off of you”

“You’re not leeching off-”

“I felt like I was- besides this will give you more time to yourself you know?” Sirius wanted to scream that he didn't want time for himself, he wanted time with you. He stayed quiet. “I just- I think it'll be good and I have vacation days so we can still do our trip in November for your birthday like we had talked about… I already boxed them in with my boss, even if it’s four months away so we don’t have to worry-”

“Okay”

You looked up now, Sirius’s face was void of any emotion. Blank and trying hard to give you a half-assed smile.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I wish you would've just told me but… okay- I’m not your boyfriend, nor your mum- I have no say in this, so- okay” He gave you a tight-lipped smile, and a small pat on the shoulder. It felt like heartbreak to you. “Congrats on the job” He retreated back into his room, you could only stare dumbly at his back as he closed the door behind him.

“Thanks-”

You felt like you might throw up.

You had seen that face on Sirius before. The empty expression, without care, without feeling. But it had never been directed towards you. He had always been open, concerningly so according to Remus, with you, he always wore his heart on his sleeve and his expression free-flowing. But now as you stood alone in your living room, the thought that maybe you weren’t doing the right thing felt wrapped around your throat.

It didn't make sense to you, even after all this time, why Sirius wasn’t pushing you to move on with your life. It had been two years of living with Sirius like nothing else mattered. Like bills didn’t have to be paid (he paid them), like you weren’t on your way to becoming real adults with real worries and responsibilities. You felt as if you had been living on borrowed time. A fantasy of fresh market outings and rides on the tube, one that enveloped you and comforted you. A life with Sirius was one straight out of a book. No worries besides what new food to try for dinner, no thoughts besides each other and what’d you do the following day.

You couldn't let it go on any longer.

No, you knew this was the best thing for the both of you. Even if Sirius was too foolish to see it now. He’d soon move on, with someone who deserved him, and they could live his daydream until they grow old. A life of pastries and soap opera nights. A soft life, a good life.

You needed to check in for reality, get your life on track.

“Yes Dad, I’ve been working- yes I am sticking with it, no- no more outings I know” You sat on your kitchen counter, the morning after, the sun had come up a while ago and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders as you spent the morning of your day off being lectured over the phone.

“Yes Dad I know- I’m not bumming off of him- no,” you huffed as your dad cut you off again, going on about the same three things for what felt like the fortieth time. You couldn’t tell what you were doing wrong in his eyes anymore.

“I know, I know I need to live with my feet on the ground…” you curled the phone line’s cable around your finger. Sirius’s door opened. “Hey, Dad can I call you back- no just- hold on- hey Sirius” Your dad didn’t stop, but you left the phone discarded on the counter anyway, as you tried to approach your front door, to beat Sirius to it.

“Sirius-” The door closed in your face, you could hear your dad’s, still angry, voice through the receiver, and through his open door— Sirius’s trunk no longer overflowing but closed and packed in his room.

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niccolites · 26 days ago

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green cliffs: - lessons in mortality. chapter one

highlander!soap x fem!reader. cw attempted sexual assault. read on ao3 here

On the same patch of land that you once took your first step, you are dragged out of your home by your hair.

There are things of little consequence: the blinding beam of the sun, how its heat doesn't reach you, snatched up by the snapping wind. The peeling paint of your broken fence, the pitchfork that has been abandoned in a bale of hay instead of with the rest of the tools in the barn.

You focus on this, the bite of the cold on your cheeks instead of the nails that are digging into your scalp. Easier to try and distance yourself from the fear that is gaping in your stomach, instead wondering if it was you or your brother who left that pitchfork out like that. You decide that it must have been your brother, he had been the one in the rush to get to the river to catch the ‘better’ fish this morning.

There are three strange men around you. You don’t know any of their names. You had seen them in the distance, the stark red of their coats along a distant hill, barely even a day prior. Your village had seemed to suck in a breath, air stilling with their approach. Now, the wind howls, the noisy exhale after that tense beat.

Trouble, your brother had warned you. Told you to stay in the house as much as you could. Tend the crops, feed the animals and keep your eyes down. He would go out, speak with your neighbours to get information on who these men were and what they wanted.

And you had done what you were told, had darted across to the barn, to the coop. Like a horse jumping at the sight of a snake before it even coils to snap.

It didn’t matter anyway. A spooked horse gathers more attention than a calm one. Your brother is sitting by still waters somewhere else, and you are here, gritting your teeth at the sting of your hair being ripped out by clumsy fingers.

Seemingly bored of dragging you, you are shoved to the ground, collapsing in a pile of skirts in the dirt. The men guffaw at you. They’ve clearly been drinking, the stench of whiskey is foul, and one of them still holds a bottle of it. Swings it around and you feel some of it catch the end of your dress. The laughs have a bitter edge to it. They’re angry, you realise, a new spike of fear shooting up your spine. You have just met these men, but they are treating you like you have wronged them in the past. Here to exact their revenge.

Soldiers, likely. One of them is still holding their bayonet, the other with a pistol slung around their waist. You don’t know how high-ranking these soldiers are, you don’t know if that would make a difference in how they are going to treat you. Worse, likely. Not even a month past and one of your neighbours had been strung up to the post, back bloodied with a whip until he collapsed. The punishment for not welcoming God’s own into your home, apparently.

Usually the English presence in your village is more official. A battalion, passing through and making sure that everyone is minding their own. There had been another Jacobite uprising, somewhere to the west of your village. Scottish men gathering to try and overthrow King George, reinstate the Catholic Stuarts. It had failed, but English law recently had become a lot more permanent, tangible in light of this rebellion.

These may be soldiers on your land, but they were operating as men. English law placed to the side, it’s overseeing eye shut for just long enough for what they were planning for you.

You are pulled up, arms yanked behind your back. Held in place by the first soldier while the other two prowl around your home.

“You know, I'm sick of you stuck-up cunts,” the first soldier hisses in your ear. There’s a twist in the muscle of your shoulder which makes you whimper. “You'd bend over for your sheep before you would us. I bet you have as well.” You can see his dark hair in the corner of your eye, smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Oh, come on, Grahams,” the second interjects, reaching over to catch your chin in his clammy hand. “She looks like a good girl. I bet you haven’t even been touched. Am I right?” His thumb pushes on your lower lip, his own mouth parting beneath the heavy curl of his pale moustache. Salivating, the way a rabid dog does before you put it down.

You stay silent. Feel his skin on yours, how he pulls your lip down. The parting of where you were and where he drags you down. Feel that ugly gap of space, an inch but it feels like a mile.

“Alone in that house?” the third asks, not even sparing you a glance. He’s pouring his drink over the edge of your field, just outside the second fence. The border between your yard and the crop you and your brother had laid down, scarcely a few weeks before. The third soldier has small eyes, and a pig nose, turns to give you a horrible, hating look. “Bet she’s had the entire village between her legs,” he sneers.

The first soldier distracts you, breath polluting you as he huffs a laugh. Tightens his arms around the lock of yours and ignores you as you grunt in pain. "Well, I’m sure that she wouldn’t mind the King’s own men from taking what they are owed, yes?”

The third man, apparently done with talking, throws the rest of his bottle over your fence and strikes a match. The catch of fire always surprises you. The match is suspended in the air for a flicker of a moment before it connects to the pool of liquor. A blink, and the fire roars, summoned into life and it eats all of the crop that you and your brother had laid on that once tilled field.

The memory of you and your brother, on your hands and knees as you planted that crop. The acceptance of exhaustion that comes with physical activity when you know it must be done and so you do it. Body connected to mind, an idea and then the yield.

Impossible to reconcile what had taken hours to do, lit up within a second. The fire branches across everything, almost licking the third soldier himself. Everything swallowed up, a horrible demon, brought by these men, a senseless cruelty that you can barely comprehend.

You howl, a wounded animal sound, lunging forward and then yanked back immediately. Everything is separate, suffocated by sensation. There is only the connection between the fire and your eyes, the conclusion that your brother is going to have to bow in that dirt again.

You shriek again, when you are stopped from preventing this, arms protesting in the twist that the first soldier forces them into. Told to stop your squealing. The second soldier steps back into your eye-line and grins down at you. Yellow teeth, dark eyes. Another demon on your land, seeking retribution in something that you have not even committed.

His mouth moves, but you barely hear it, blood rushing in your ears. Your face is hot, molten with tears. Brain and body disconnected. The socket of your shoulder is boiling, every yank pulling a tense groan from between your clenched teeth. You know that you are going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling, or maybe one of these men are going to hurt you. But you keep pulling, huffing with fruitless effort.

The second soldier reaches down, fingers digging into the collar of your dress. His fingers cold against the hot flush that has spread across your chest. A tear in the cotton cloth that covers most of your clavicle. Another shriek, ripping up your throat and into his face. He barely flinches. You are a cat with its tail caught, it doesn’t matter how sharp your teeth are anymore.

The first soldier with your hair in his teeth. The second with his hands groping down your chest. The third man, kicking your fence to get it to buckle and catch in the flames as well. Paralysis like a fist around the base of your spine. A yell that starts in the bottom of your lungs, builds until you are almost sick with the force of it.

Another yell, one that does not fully register until the soldiers take notice of it.

"What on -" the first soldier starts to say, before the rest is lost in a strangled noise. The second soldier steps out of your vision and you see what is stopping him.

Your father was no soldier, although he had been when he had to be, god rest his soul. He used to tell you about the true highlanders, the real soldiers and the swords that were as broad as they were, and how they would swing them as if they were an extension of their own arm.

It sounded like folklore. Mythology, until you see the swing of that broadsword, splitting the third soldier at the waist like the crack of an egg.

You barely have time to catch sight of the fourth man before you are thrown to the ground again, dirt catching on your palms and digging in.

It feels generous to call it a fight. There is a brief tussle between the new man and the two soldiers that had been holding you prone, before they are brought to heel. Blood seeping into the dirt. Half of the second soldier’s face thuds to the ground, his moustache halved. He stares sightlessly up at the sky, half an expression stuck and immortalised.

You lie in the dirt, watch as your tormentors are silenced, lives ended and left to pool in the soil that you used to dance across when you were younger. It is entirely unfair, the three men that were able to drag you around like a ragdoll, cut into like slabs of cheese.

It’s breathtaking, watching this man save you like it is the easiest thing in the world. He finally stills, the first soldier lying limp on his knees before he is kicked aside. You hysterically wonder if that is what would have been done to you, if these three Englishmen had gotten their way. A passage of time interrupted, snipped like the threads of fate. Time redirected.

You stare up at him, barely able to connect that your arms are your own now, even though you had been wrestling for them to be this entire time.

Your saviour, a bloody mess on his kilt and three dead men around him.

"Thank you," you manage. Voice crackling as you form full words now. The stench of gore is another presence in the yard with you. Thick, you resist the urge to gag as it seems to catch in your teeth as you inhale noisily through your mouth.

The man who saves you is silent, breath heaving out of him. He is massive, with dark hair that is pushed back out of his face. A light beard and red in his kilt. Red everywhere, actually. Staining the white of his cotton shirt beneath the crossover of his kilt, staining his skin. His broadsword is almost the same height as him, almost as wide. Metal catching the sun, glowing red as it drips blood.

It takes the man to stumble back to force you into action. You force yourself up, staggering towards him. You reach the centre of his chest, his breadth suffocating you, encompassing. You catch his bicep to right him, the equivalent of smacking your hand against stone. Now that you are standing chest to chest with him, you realise if he were to fall, you would not be able to catch him.

"Are you alright?" You ask, staring up at him. The blood on his face doesn't seem to be his, for the most part. There is a cut across his brow, leaking a lazy trail of blood down his temple and you almost reach up to touch it without thinking, before you catch yourself.

His eyes are blue. The sky brought down to you.

You almost laugh, delirious. Self-conscious under his rapt gaze. You tilt your head and catch sight of the fire again. As if other sensations had been halted under this man’s gaze, you are brought back to the present with the crackle of fire. You curse under your breath, stepping out of the pull surrounding this man, darting away to get a bucket to extinguish the flames.

You feel the ghost of a hand across your back before you are gone, furiously pumping the handle of the well and tossing the water across to the fire. It takes a few journeys, something that has your hands fumbling as you try to work faster.

The man is there, pulling the bucket away from you even as you try to stop him. He is able to swing the water further, catching more of the flames. His gait is longer than yours, but you notice that he seems to be stumbling as he is putting weight on his right leg.

After you pass him two more full buckets of water, the fire is finally put out. You take stock of the blackened field. All of it razed, deader than the men who are still sinking into the dirt a few feet away from you. You swallow harshly, angry tears pricking at your eyes. It will take a month, longer even, to fix this. You can imagine the devastation on your brother’s face when he sees this. Resist the urge to turn to the corpses and give them a few good kicks.

You want to give into the lump in your throat and cry over this, but the man fills you with purpose. You roughly swipe at your face before you face him, catching him already watching you. “Your leg - is it alright?” You ask, trying to keep the burned field out of sight. Better to focus on what can immediately be fixed.

The man stares at you for a beat too long. Almost as if waiting for you to speak again before he does. "One of the bastards caught me in the leg," he says. His accent is thick, deep in a way that has you flushing. He tilts his leg, lifting his kilt enough for you to see the gash on the back of his calf. The flesh looks torn open, which makes you wince.

"I can patch that up," you offer, grateful at the opportunity to take your mind off of the events of the past hour. You step closer, hands hovering, unsure if he should be walking. "My brother cut his arm on a scythe once, wrist to elbow, and I managed to stitch that up,” you add, even though the man doesn’t seem to care about your past experience with wound tending.

"You the village nurse then?" the man asks, reaching over to drape his arm over your shoulder. There is a moment of his weight pressed into you that almost makes your knees buckle before it is lifted. His hand stays though, warm on your opposite shoulder. He seems to be guiding you into your home more than you are. He is a hot line along your side, hip to hip. The sway as you acclimate to his walk, sturdier on your right leg as if to compensate for his.

“Hardly,” you manage to respond, kicking the door open for him to get inside. “My brother is just clumsy.”

You set him on the chair in your kitchen, bustling around for some cloth and a needle and thread. Your kitchen is like a picture in a book, just how it was when you woke up this morning. Time has not moved here, your mug is still by the sink. Your brother’s boots by the door where he had forgotten them this morning. Life before the fallout, perfectly preserved.

“It’ll look ugly, but it’ll do the job,” you warn, tossing a cushion on the floor to kneel on, gesturing for him to elevate his foot on the other chair.

“I trust you to make my leg as handsome as it was before,” he says, a smile that slips from his mouth when you come back to his side. You kneel down, a wet flannel in your hand that you cover the wound with, wanting to the extent of the damage beneath the aftermath that covers it.

You glance up at him, finding him watching you. Eyes dark now, water before a storm. You give him your name, suddenly realising that you haven't yet. Admonish yourself for being rude.

He breathes it back, like he wants to hold it in his mouth for a moment. “John,” he replies after another pause. “I get called Johnny.”

“Am I allowed to call you Johnny?” You ask, turning back to his leg. You catch sight of his chest stuttering over a breath. You tuck your hair behind your ear, frowning to yourself. You know if your brother were here, then you would not be speaking to this man so casually. That knowledge makes you feel like you are doing something inappropriate. Something to be ‘caught’ doing. Extra dash of sugar before the whip of the belt across your backside.

“Absolutely, angel. Well, dependent on the work you make of my leg,” he adds, tone musing. He seems amused by you, mouth smiling even as his eyes stay that dark colour. Trouble, your brother had described the soldiers. You aren’t so certain he wouldn’t describe Johnny in the same way.

You resolve yourself to your work. It’s not a bad gash, when most of the blood is wiped away. One of the soldiers must’ve stabbed it in, and then pulled it to the side, splitting the flesh. You wonder how he was able to stand on it, nevermind help you with the fire. You murmur a warning before you stab the needle in, threading the wound closed. A thin layer of poultice along the loose white cloth you have, an attempt to prevent any swelling before you wrap this around the wound. Tie the ends. The beginning of a thank you for what Johnny has done for you. His blood stains your hands, sticky into the crevices of your palms.

You squeeze the red out of the flannel and stand, roles reversed. He looks up at you, gaze reverent in a way that makes you faintly embarrassed. “The cut on your brow doesn't seem as bad,” you murmur, half-excusing yourself. You’re not doing anything untoward, but you feel the need to pre-emptively explain yourself.

You wipe the blood on his face away, other hand hovering uncertainly, before you cup his chin. Hold him in place as you clean him up. It's something that you think would be normal, but feels outrageously intimate with how hot his gaze is on your face. Swallow and watch as his eyes drop to observe your throat move.

You avoid his eye, difficult when you can see that flash of blue darting around. You feel swallowed up by it. His attention feels like the sun has finally reached you, reaching through the wind to land on your skin. Scalding where his eyes land. You’re suddenly aware of the rip in your bodice, how it looks like you are bending over to show him the view down your chest. You snap up straight when you realise that he is looking.

You’re being ridiculous, you decide. This is the man who saved you from those horrible soldiers. A fate worse than death, most likely. Raped, murdered and burned most likely.

The cut on Johnny’s brow as stopped bleeding. “I think you’ll live,” you pronounce, voice falling flat at the end.

Another gap of quiet. Standing over a man who saved you, his blood on your hands. Three dead men in your yard. The burned crops, that smell wafting in, ruin and death.

“You live here alone?” He asks, accent catching on the ‘o’ sounds.

“No, my brother…he's away, fishing,” you explain.

Johnny barely seems to hear you, hand on your wrist. Thumb on your pulse, like he's listening to more than your words. “There may be more soldiers,” he says, gaze dragging away from you to the window. Darting back again as if he can barely stand to not be looking at you. “We have to go.”

You stammer, something in your spine locking at the idea of leaving your home. “I can't, no, this is my home - my brother - Ian - he’ll be -”

Johnny stands, a wall of muscle in front of you. The size of him silencing you. “There are English men dead on your land,” Johnny tells you, fierce suddenly. The snap of teeth. “Now, they may not believe that a sweet thing like you could do this, but they’ll make an example of you anyway.” His words blow the air out of your lungs, a shudder in the shape of a breath. You think about what he’s saying. You, on that post with your back whipped until everyone can see beneath your skin. Saved from the lawless and delivered to the law, the punishment eerily similar.

You shiver, fear worming through you. The scowl on his face smooths out, and he reaches up and cups your face. Sticky with gore, you can feel the print of hands left on your cheeks. “We have to go,” he repeats, firm. The full force of his will is something to bow to.

Your shoulder twinges, familiar with that sensation of being caught and forced into position. You twist your mouth, that ignored lump in your throat making itself known again. You blink up at Johnny, blood in the light beard across his face. The blood of the men who hurt you. Offering to save you. Again.

Your saviour is a stranger in your kitchen, and when you murmur your assent, he smiles like a wolf.

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #nic writes #highlander au #the brainrot i got from one art work....oh years of psychic damage i fear #anyway #unsure how long this shall be at this stage. but will keep u all posted HAH #lemme know what you think !

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retroaria · 7 days ago

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♱ sinner! ♱

⛧ college!au michael kaiser x fem!reader

summary: kaiser finds himself swallowed up by guilt as he struggles to maintain composure around his oh so sweet girlfriend, a task which would be simple if his mind wasn't in the gutter...

cw: MDNI nsfw 18+ content, virgin/celibate!reader implied, virgin!kaiser as well, this is pretty nasty i won't lie, religious referencing and dialogue, yearning, wet dreams, masturbation, edging, groping, no p-in-v sorry y'all, proofreading goes against my religion.

⛧blue lock m.list x as always, reblogs are appreciated!

"Lord, please guide me once again into your light, for I have allowed myself to be led astray. I woke up this morning in a pool of my own filth, I have let the forces of darkness take over my will in the night..."

A pool of filth is exactly what it was. His body shivered as the morning blue began to creep in through the windows, reminding him that he was no longer alone with the dull light of his phone beside him, your face smiling on the screen. A photo of you in a pretty white dress, a dress that kept you modest, yet cute. The hem fell just above your knees, teasing the skin of your supple thighs, the sleeves hugging your arms, showing only a sliver of your shoulders. You looked adorable, a kind and innocent young woman, adorned as such.

Tonight, it only took that one photo. It kept him wired until morning, until he could barely move without a spike of sensitivity running through his lower half. Michael slowly sat up on his bed, looking down at the mess before him in disgust. His face twisted and his stomach churned. His mouth slightly open as he groaned, forcing himself up and off the bed. His cock hung between his thighs, soft and wet, his tip still slightly leaking. His eyes darted over to the clock on his nightstand, it read "6:52 A.M.", and he had two hours before you were to arrive. he needed to clean up this mess, clean up his dick, recenter his mind, and hot iron his church clothes before you got here.

It's been awhile since Michael made a mess like this, for a moment, he found himself feeling pleased, satisfied with the pleasure he brought to himself. As he stripped the sheets from his mattress he let the memory of each release playback in his mind.

The first one, where he focused his gaze to the dresses ruffles that laid across your chest, cupping your breasts in a way that feigned between the line of sultry and slutty. He let his fingers only graze up his length, imagining the feeling of the fabric on his skin, the feeling of your skin on his skin. His cock fitting perfectly between the gap of your tits squeezed together around him. He grabbed his cock in a gentle hold, stroking lightly as looked up at your smiling face on the screen, thinking of how your eyes would glaze over as you watched him fall apart above you. Your hands pushing your tits together to milk him for all he's got. He closed his eyes when he came, so he didn't have to see it spurting out all over his comforter, envisioning the hot ropes of cum dripping down your smiling face instead. He repeated this three more times, until the tip of his cock was red and swollen, leaking out on its own.

The sheets made it to the washing machine and Michael made it to the bathroom. His hands gripped the edges of the sink as he wearily scanned his reflection in the mirror. He looked at his face as if it were unrecognizable, quickly falling down to his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.

"...Allow me to face this new day a better man than I was yesterday. It is the knowing of your love and compassion that brings me to my knees to confess…”

Fresh, clean, composed, and just in the knick of time. Michael opened the door to your shining face, smiling at him. He let his hands gently grip your waist as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. He let his arms snake around you gently as he pulled you flush against him. He breathed in the scent of your hair and firmed his grip to feel the outline of your skin beneath your dress. He held you there a few strung moments, just long enough for your warmth to beginning trickling over him.

When he pulled back his eyes roamed your body. They widened as they took in your figure, your body draped elegantly in that god for forsaken white dress. He felt his mind begin to wander, but you looked at him expectantly and he did his best to remain calm.

“Good morning, Liebe…”

“Good morning, Micha!” by the time you words made their way around his spinning mind they sounded almost taunting, yet you gazed up at him with a sickeningly sweet smile, unbeknownst to his inner turmoil. His eyes searched your face for a few moments before wandering south.

“Michael…?” your tender voice pushing aside the silk white distraction tickling his brain.

His eyes flew up to meet yours, his body stiffened. “S-sorry, are you ready to go?”

“Yup, let’s go!” so sweet, so innocently eager - you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him from the doorway. He trailed behind you, eyes glued to the subtle sway of your hips, the fabric of the dress flowing in the gentle breeze, revealing parts of your thighs that lived further up. He imagined his hand gliding against the skin of your thigh, slowly pushing the fabric up until it revealed to him what laid between your legs. Then he imagined tugging at the dress with his teeth, tearing it off you like a wild animal. His mouth so close to your skin, he wondered what you tasted like.

Before he could conjure up a full fantasy, the two of you had reached his car. He quickly jogged to the passenger side, opening the door for you with a charming smile. He took note of how quickly the car filled up with the scent of your perfume. At every red light he’d take a moment to glance over at you as you rambled on about your week, laser focusing on the parting of your lips - the subtle strings of lip gloss and saliva connecting them almost sent him into a frenzy. He thanked the lord the guy behind him had honked just in time so he could focus back on driving.

Pulling into the parking lot - he parked the car and got out of his seat, swinging around the back to open the door for you. Michael uses his unprecedented chivalry to remind himself you’re a respectable woman, one whom he loves deeply. He’d hate to admit that he’s hoping it’ll get him brownie points. Maybe one day you’ll appear before him in his room; “I don’t want to wait anymore Micha~ I want you now.”. You’d tell him he deserves it, he’s proven his worth - every opened door and every doting action inching his face closer and closer to the flowered heaven between your legs.

He reached out his hand for you to grab as you swing said legs out of the car and stand before him. Is he truly so depraved that the way your knees flex and the muscles of your thighs and calves clench in this subtle motion makes his cock twitch? Absolutely. He guides you, your hand in his, as you step out of the car. The door shuts behind you and you both make your way towards the entrance.

Michael never was a church goer before meeting you. He’d gone on the occasion holiday with his family growing up, slugging through the long hours and asking god for much simpler things than he does now. You’ve been a loyal member of this specific church for a long time, your family as well. You handed out your greetings as you crossed paths with familiar faces on the way to the entrance. Michael had only become your Sunday morning plus one within the last few months, so he always opted for a smile and an awkward wave.

The two of you made your way inside, sitting in the pews. You mingled with the people around you for a bit before the pastor took to the chancel and began the mass. The both of you shifted your attention to the front of the church. Michael let his body rest a bit, slugging slightly in his seat and let his weight fall to your side a bit. You leaned into his as well, crossing your legs and placing your hand on his left thigh. Michael noted that you’d never done that before, it was an innocent gesture of course, but it made danger signals go off in his head at a time like this.

You’ve been together for five months and not once has any part of you been this close to his groin. As he went through the motions of his internal reaction, he was also faced with the self awareness of his own insanity for feeling aroused by something so minuscule. It felt as though he could feel the short distance between your fingers and his cock, like strings of electricity.

He took a deep breath and attempted to relax himself. It was unfortunate that he never truly did pay much attention to the pastor, he’d usually spend these few hours lost in his own thoughts, but he’d like to refrain from that at this moment. He thought about the colors he could see around him, the way his chest heaved up and down, anything to distract him. He tried to think about the way the church smelled, but could only pick up notes of you beside him. Thinking about the way his body felt would only worsen things. The memory crept up like a serpent slipping through the cracks of a tarnished wall - Michael unfortunately recalled a dream he’d had about this once.

Just after the crowd makes their way out of the church, Michael holds your body still in front of him pushing you roughly over the pew in front of you. Your moans and pretty sounds bouncing off the pillars and mosaic tiles, bringing him to the point of sensory overload. His hips rammed into you like a filthy dog in heat, thrusting in and out of you with primal need. His hair laid buried in your neck, which adorned his grasp like a rosary as he held you up against him. With every slap of his hips against your ass he felt a flame inside him burning through every inch of his nervous system. Just as that flame was about to make its way out through his cock, he woke up, sore and sweaty.

You could feel him stiffen next to you. He let out a nervous cough before leaning towards you a bit to whisper in your ear. “E-excuse me…” he spoke frantically, standing from the pews and quietly making his way to the stairwell leading him down into the basement of the church and towards the bathroom. Without even getting in a stall - sure that no one else would enter - he pulled down his pants and let one of his hands fly over his bulging cock. Just a swipe of your skin against his had it struggling against the fabric of his dress pants. He rubbed over it a bit, taking deep breaths and imagining the damning face of his lord and savior as he fell into the arms of unholy desires - in a place of worship at that. Pulling his pants back up, he glanced at himself in the mirror, a disgusted look already painted his face.

The walk back up the corridor to the main hall was an opportunity for him to recenter himself. He quickly shuffled himself back over to you in the pews, sitting down a bit awkwardly. You beamed a bit as you saw him return, only to be met with a look of sternness you hadn’t seen in him before. His jaw clenched slightly as he felt your eyes on him - he looked straight ahead, building up the strength to meet your eyes. When he did, it was with a smile. One you hadn’t seen coming, or seen forming at all, but it was the Michael you know and love with that sweet, handsome smile.

As you recall, Michael spent the rest of that day chauffeuring you around to miscellaneous errands. He carried your bags for you, opened every door for you, his gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you about. Then, he dropped you off at home, a soft peck to your lips, a smile, and a small wave as he watched you enter your home before driving off.

He crawled into his bed, his right hand slithering under the covers, tugging the waistband of his own boxers teasingly as he scrolled his camera roll. You, everywhere, so much fuel for his fire, so much build up for his desire. His fingers slip past the fabric. Michael knew no matter how hard he prayed, or how honestly he’d repent, he couldn’t fight what he needed the most. When the room is lit only by the light from his phone and the sheer twilight beam through the window. When he lies next to no one, alone, desperate. He’ll fall to the sight of you every single time. The cycle repeats.

“….please, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

i should probably add that i have never been to church other than for a funeral once and i lowkey blocked that out so i am not a credible source for catholic practices (not that it’s ever that serious)

thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!

networks: @bllk-tv + @pixelcafe-network

dividerz: @toastray

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doevie · 9 days ago

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SWEET AND SOUR　 𓎢𓎡 　명재현　( © doevie )

WHAT ? 　♱ 　jaehyun x f!reader 　੭୧　est relationship fluff skinship petnames kissing　 ;　wordcount ( 338 )

synopsis 　oh how cruel you are for teasing your boyfriend jaehyun.

something about seeing jaehyun's face turn red every time you compliment him brings a smile to your face. it's a blessing to see him lose a sense of words and stutter like a mess. every hug, every kiss you blow in his direction, honestly any time you look his way, sends his poor brain into overdrive.

arms wrap around jaehyun's neck as you bring your face closer to his, feeling his breath hitch for a moment. "i missed you," you whisper, making your lovely boyfriend smile. you just arrived home from work and jaehyun was at the door, which made your heart skip a beat.

"i missed you too." his hands slid naturally to your waist. as he was about to kiss you, you quickly slipped out of his embrace and began walking towards the kitchen. his eyes widened, honestly, he looked like a lost puppy from the way he was stuttering.

the sound of you washing your hands, preparing yourself to prep some food, filled the area. "what do you wanna eat?" he sped towards the kitchen after taking his shoes off, looking at you before shrugging. your hands snaked along jaehyun's chest, making his heart rate spike up. "how about i eat you for dinner, sounds good?" you look up at him.

those eyes could turn him into a pile of mush. his head slowly starts to nod, which makes you giggle. "please," he whines, making you smirk. "please, what?" "kiss me, please?" he mumbled. without hesitation, your lips crashed onto his, knocking all the air out of his lungs. the both of you messily kissed each other, spit and lip balm coating each other in the process.

he pulled back. he stood there, heaving as his chest rose and fell fast. "delicious.." you say as you push yourself into jaehyun's embrace. "you're so cruel ( reader ) .. " jaehyun mumbles, making you look up at him once again. "but you like it, don't you?"

he very much likes it, in fact, he loves it.

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pretty-little-mind33 · 1 year ago

Text

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm), enemies to lovers 😘

Warnings: intoxication, swearing, mentions of spiking a drink, unprotected sex (but fr wrap it before you tap it besties), penetration, degradation, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, kinda dubious consent in the beginning? (James does ask for consent and reader agrees though!)

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Would you date James Potter?"

James lifts his head at the sound of his name and he smiles when he sees you and your best friend.

His eyes had been focused to you from the moment he saw you enter the Common Room. How could they not be when the way your dress hugged your curves had his pants feeling three sizes too small?

James's been making sure to keep an eye on you all evening. Just so you won't get yourself in trouble. If he counted correctly, the butterbeer in your hand is your fourth and he can tell just by the way you stumble on your heels that you're already tipsy.

Your eyebrows crease in the middle at your friend's question and James sits up on the couch, moving his arm from the cushion where Primalia (some Ravenclaw who won't leave him alone) sits. He wants to hear your answer clearly, although he thinks he knows what you'll say,

"I would never date James Potter?!" You slur loudly. James's smile turns into a smirk.

You're so goddamn predictable.

You down your drink, clearly annoyed by the question and James returns his attention to the brunette on his left. Primalia looks at him with her glassy, hazel eyes and sends him a sweet smile — which means exactly what James thinks it means.

But, he finds himself looking at you almost automatically and frowns when he sees a boy hand you another drink. Five, he counts in his head and his frown deepens when the same boy starts to snake his arm around to your lower back.

"Excuse me," James tells Primalia absentmindedly as he stands. Jealousy prickles at his skin as he stares at you and the boy.

Luckily, it passes just as quickly as it came when he hears you yell and the boy reluctantly turns away and decide to leave you alone.

Still, James continues to make his way to you and just as you bring your drink to your lips, he swoops his arm over your head and plucks the glass from your hand.

"What the hell?" You exclaim, spinning around. You look up at him, eyes flaming when you realize it's him as he takes a sip from your drink and then obnoxiously spits the liquid back into the glass. Your eyes widen with disgust and James can admit he enjoys how flustered you look a little too much.

"Potter," You grit and snatch your drink back, glaring at him.

James diverts his attention from you and looks at your best friend, who sends him a weak smile, and he salutes her with his hand. Then, he turns his attention to you and just as he's about to explain, he feels foamy liquid drip down his cheeks and over his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut.

James hears shushed laughter all around him as he realizes you just threw your drink in his face. He stands a little straighter and his jaw tightens. He runs a hand down his face, "Always a pleasure, Y/l/n." He mutters and opens his eyes just in time to see you stomp away from him.

He hides an amused smile as he takes off his glasses and wipes them on his sleeve.

"I don't understand why you continue to try, mate." James hears Sirius suddenly laughs from next to him and pats his shoulder, "She hates you."

James shakes his head, "Nah. She thinks she hates me, but she doesn't. Not really."

"She threw her drink at you." Remus, who is standing next to Sirius, points out with a smile.

"Yeah, because I spit in it." James retorts nonchalantly.

Sirius and Remus look at each other, confused and distraught, "Prongs, that is not how you flirt with someone—, " Sirius starts to explain hesitantly, but James just laughs.

"I think that jerk put something in her drink. It tasted funny." James barely explains and adjusts his collar, "Jus' wanted to make sure she wouldn't drink it—keepin' her safe, y'know."

Remus shakes his head in amusement, "You do the stupidest things, James, but somehow they almost always end up being the right reasons."

"Thank you?" James sends his friends a lopsided smirk and absentmindedly wipes his wet hands on the front of his blazer, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna find the loo and clean up. I don't want to smell like beer all evening. Can you guys keep an eye on her, ya?"

Remus and Sirius look at each other again, very clearly exhausted by their friend's antics, but promise him they'll watch over you anyway.

* * *

Your hatred for James Potter began in your first year when he and his friends caused an explosion in Potions that intentionally turned your hair lime green for a month.

You'd understandably been upset about the incident and because of this James, more than the rest of the Marauders, found out it was endlessly entertaining to pull his favorite pranks on you.

Even now, in your last year of school, James still insists he loves how deep the wrinkles between your eyebrows crease and how flustered you always look whenever he really annoys you.

You loathe him.

Your hands tremble in anger as you pour yourself some punch in a new, untainted by Potter lips, glass. "He's so fucking infuriating." You slur.

"Sure, but you must admit he's super bloody hot." Lily randomly points out from behind you and you almost choke on your fruit punch, "Handsomest guy in our year, I'd say." She grins.

"Gross." You scrunch your nose and lean on the table, "Remus is cuter."

"Yeah, and Sirius Black is hotter." Your best friend, Izzy, adds quietly, her chubby cheeks pink.

Lily rolls her eyes and chuckles, “So you wouldn't fuck him, Y/n?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

You all turn silent. Sex with James Potter? Sure, you'd had your fair share of wet dreams where he was, unfortunately, the one to fuck you senseless — but you would never admit it.

Or, at least you wouldn’t if you weren’t completely shit-faced.

"Oh, I'd fuck him. I'd just have to do it with my eyes closed so I wouldn't have to look at him," You feel extremely proud of your joke until you realize your two friends' faces have become pale as their eyes fix on something behind you.

"You'd do what with our boy, Y/l/n?" A familiar snicker comes from near your shoulder and you freeze. Even as drunk as you are, you know you messed up.

You chew on your lip a moment, deciding you can stand your ground, and then you turn and narrow your eyes, "Tell him and I'll make sure to cut your dick in half, Black." You hiss.

Sirius puts his arms up and smirks. Remus, who stands next to him, looks at you sympathetically, "Sorry, doll, but Jamie will be over the moon to know you'd actually shag him." Sirius says.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you try your hardest to take back your words, "I wouldn't want to touch James Potter even if it was with a pool-stick." You retort.

"Ouch," Remus mutters, "We definitely won't tell him that."

Lily interrupts, "Just leave us alone, you guys are pricks." She sounds exhausted and annoyed, "This was a private conversation."

"Sorry, Evans, no can do. We're supposed to look after this one," Sirius looks at you but Remus digs his elbow into Sirius's side, "Ow." His dark haired friend scrunches his nose but then his eyes round when he realizes what he’d said, "I mean —"

"Me?" You ask and then you realize, "Potter asked you to look after me, didn't he? Merlin, he's the absolute worst. I don't need babysitters," You whine and you can tell both Sirius and Remus look a little guilty at your annoyance.

"You can tell that wanker I am leaving and that he can suck it," You tuck some hair behind you ear and finish your punch in one sip, 'Oh, and if one of you tells him I said I would fuck him, I'll cut off his dick as well as yours." You point your index at them and the boys swallow.

They don't speak for a moment as you walk away with your friends. Sirius breaks first, "Is it wrong that I'm turned on?" He whispers.

Remus instantly slaps the back of his head, "Yes. You're disgusting."

Sirius frowns at his best friend, "I'm kidding. Y/n is James's girl, remember? He called dibs on her since first year."

"I remember." Remus rolls his eyes, "But, she isn't exactly his girl, is she? She can't stand the poor bloke."

"I mean, James's girl or not – she does want to shag him." Sirius shrugs.

"Who wants to shag me?" James cuts in from next to them, his blazer damp the water he's used to wipe the stench of beer from his clothes. He's also found himself another drink. Remus and Sirius freeze.

"No one." Remus mutters quickly, avoiding James's eye.

"Moony," James warns, "Tell me."

Remus stays silent but James has turned his attention to Sirius. Sirius, who can never keep his mouth shut.

"It's Y/n. Y/n wants to fuck you."

"Bloody hell, Sirius!"

* * *

You wake up with the worst hangover of your life. You can barely remember what happened until Lily reminded you.

"I said what?!" You cry as you frantically comb your hair.

"You said you'd fuck him," Izzy points out as she pins her hair behind her ears with barrettes, "With your eyes closed, mind you." She smiles.

"I would never fuck him!" You stare at yourself in the mirror, ashamed you had admitted you'd fuck someone you hated so much.

Lily looks at Izzy and they don't seem convinced, "Okay, sure. It doesn't matter, come on, we have Potions in less than ten minutes." She hurries you out the door.

Potions. You've hated that class since first year. You especially hate it this year because James and Remus sit next to you and your partner.

You are happy it's not James and Sirius, because that would be even more annoying.

This morning you try very hard not to look at James. Usually, you'll send him an occasional glare when he makes an obnoxious comment but today, you don't even lift your head at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, Y/l/n." James calls but you ignore him. "Y/n." He tries, but still no answer. "Y/n/n?" He teases and is rewarded by your frown and glaring stare.

"What do you want, Potter?" You snap, pausing your concentration on the potion you're currently making. James leans one hand on your desk and, licking his lips, he points to the jar of worms you have next to you.

"Can I borrow that?" He looks at you with his famous puppy-dog eyes. You feel your stomach flip and pretend it's because you want to puke.

Thalia, your partner, immediately slides the jar towards James and bats her pretty eyelashes at him, "Here," She says sweetly.

Now it's definitely because you want to puke.

James doesn't look at Thalia as his eyes fix you, "Thanks, love." He says to her but smiles at you and then returns to his desk. You follow him with your eyes and scoff when you see Remus tap their own jar of worms on their table. James shrugs with a smirk.

You want to strangle him.

Once Potions is over, you almost run out of the classroom. Usually, James and his friends find a way to annoy you on your way to Charms but not this time. No, this time you ditch Lily and Izzy and take the longer way to class. The one with the usually empty corridor and echoey walls.

You hum along as you walk, completely unaware of a presence behind you until you feel a hand clasp around your arm.

You don't have time to think of screaming as you're pushed against the wall, someone's body pressed against your back as your left cheek hits the cold brick. Your leather bookbag slips down your shoulders and onto the floor with a thud.

"Say the words and I'll leave," An all too familiar voice whispers into the shell of your ear and your initial fear is replaced by annoyance and a hint of arousal — which you hate yourself for.

"Potter." You breathe out, feeling his hold loosen a little but his body presses into yours a little more. You shut your eyes and sink your teeth into your lower lip,

"A little birdy told me someone has naughty dreams about me," James mocks, his voice low, "Is that true?"

You frown and then struggle against him, "You're absolutely delusional." You hiss, hiding how turned on you are.

"Am I?" James chuckles and then his hand starts to wander up and down your side and you suck in your breath.

"Y-yes." You say, voice quivering.

"I love how quickly you turn into putty in my hands, Y/n." James chuckles and your core aches. You wince. What is wrong with you?

You're supposed to hate him, not want him.

James rolls his hips into your ass and you let out a gasp, "James!" You use his first name and he pauses, "S-someone could see us." You try to reason and your chest heaves.

"No one walks by here," James breathes down your neck, his hand squeezing your waist as the other pins one of your hands to the wall, "And, classes have started by now."

You realize he's right and start to fight against him again. James loosens his hold, "Do you want me to let you go?" James asks seriously and you can tell if you did want him to walk away, he would — no questions asked.

"Or, do you want me to touch your pussy and make all those wet dreams you have come true." He sounds cocky and you frown, wanting to wipe the grin you know he's wearing off his stupid face.

"I have a feeling your panties are soaked already." You feel embarrassed, knowing James is entirely correct. You're so turned on you can barely think. You don't know if you want to curse Sirius and Remus for snitching on you, or thank them.

"Fuck you." You manage to hiss but you have stopped your very weak attempts at resisting James's advances. Perhaps you've wanted him to fuck you more than you thought.

"Tsk tsk, language, darling." James laughs in your ear. His hair tickles your neck and you shiver, "Here, I'll tell you what, suck me off and then I'll fuck you exactly like you want."

Your breath hitches in your throat as James spins you around and pushes you down onto your knees. You let him and then look up. He smirks down at you and runs his hand along your cheek up to your hair — which he takes in his fist and you moan.

"Merlin, you're a slut, aren't ya?" James chuckles, eyes dark with lust and your core throbs.

"Don't call me that," You still snap. James's hand falters in your hair and you realize that he's beginning to doubt you want this. So, you smile at him and decide to tell him you do. "Potter, if you're trying to impress me, so far all you've done is prove you're all just bark and absolutely no bite. Is this the best you can do?"

James smirks at that and then holds your hair tighter, "Unbuckle my jeans," He demands and you do so quickly. When you see him you have to admit you're a little surprised James's confidence is warranted.

"Well? Suck." James interrupts your thoughts. You roll your eyes and take him in your hands. You run one hand along his dick for a moment, earning a small moan, and then take him into your mouth.

You enjoy the control you have as you suck his dick, bobbing your head up and down. You occasionally look up to admire the look of pleasure contorting his features.

James curses under his breath and then, suddenly, he's completely face fucking you. You gag, tears brimming as your throat opens wider.

"Shit," James groans. He's lost in pleasure.

You hold onto his thighs as he fucks your mouth. You're taken by surprise when, without warning, he comes and you almost choke on the salty liquid.

James lets you go once you've swallowed and you recover with a small cough. A little disappointed, you wipe at the sides of your mouth.

"Stand up." James orders, his voice hoarse. You look up at him, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"What? You think I'm done with you? I still haven't fucked you."

You stand slowly, "But you just came?" You stutter.

James tilts his head and smirks, "And?" He takes your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead quickly. You don't have time to be surprised by the intimate gesture because he's spinning you around and pinning you to the wall again. James holds one of your hands near each side of your head, "I'm not satisfied until I've fucked you senseless, Y/n."

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel him kiss your neck. One of his hands teasingly slides down to your stomach and then under your shirt as he untucks it from your skirt, "Keep 'em up." He mentions your hands when he feels them slip and you keep them pressed to the wall.

James starts to knead the flesh of your breasts over your bra, his fingers occasionally flicking your nipples. You bite your lip. When you feel him harden against your ass again, you let out a small moan.

"Tell me how much you like this," James whispers, his lips near your ear, and your stomach tightens.

"Cocky much? I've had better," You say, wanting to push his buttons. With one last pinch to your nipples, James's hand abandons your breasts and instead travels into your panties. You suppress a moan when he easily glides a finger across your pussy.

Smirking, James brings them to your lips so you can taste yourself, "Wanna try that again?" He asks as you suck on his fingers. His hand then comes down to your throat and he squeezes lightly.

Stubbornly, you shake your head

"No?" James pushes his hips into yours and squeezes your throat harder, "Fine, I'll just have to make you admit it then and trust me, Y/n, I won't be satisfied until you're screaming my name.”

You moan again, your face feeling incredibly hot when James starts to bunch up your skirt into your panties, "Merlin, you're so fucking pretty." He compliments, squeezing your ass and you smile.

However, when you feel him start to push your panties to the side you panic, "Wait!" You cry and James retreats his hand immediately, moving away from you. 'I- I'm a virgin." You whimper, embarrassed.

James backs away a little and asks, his voice calm, "You said you'd had better?"

"I lied."

"Okay. Shh, you're okay. Want me to stop?" He asks softly.

You chew on your lip and shake your head. You feel warm and fuzzy all over, "Can I- can I see you?" You ask, your voice small.

You hear shuffling behind you, "I thought you didn't want to look at me," James teases with a hint of a smile.

Your cheeks burn, "Please, James."

Gently, he turns you around so you're resting the back of your head on the wall and your hands press on his chest. You look at him in his beautiful eyes and your heart flutters. Lily was right, James Potter is really really handsome.

James sees you staring and grins, "Better?"

You nod and his hand hesitates at your thigh, "May I?" He asks and you whisper a quiet yes. You shiver when he takes your thigh and wraps it around his waist. Once more, he uses his other hand to push your panties aside and then you feel him press his tip at your entrance.

You inhale, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you prepare for the pain. James's voice soothes you, "You're okay. No one's gonna hurt you, it's just me." He whispers.

You feel him stretch you open and you cry out into his shoulder, "Yeah, but I don't like you." Your voice is a little muffled.

James breathes deeply and whispers, "It's okay not to hate me anymore, Y/n. I know I've done some hateable things but �� " He curses at how hard you're squeezing around him, "I've changed."

You feel pain and you squirm a little, "Ow — I frankly don't care about that right now. I — James, it hurts."

James stops. He doesn't pull out, afraid that will also hurt you, but he does wait, "I'm sorry, love. What do you need? What can I do?"

You wipe your tears on his shoulder, "Just continue, Potter." You order, wanting this to work. You can't imagine letting him walk away now.

James listens and when he's finally all the way in and he starts to move, the pain quickly starts to disappears. "I- it feels nice now." You tell him breathlessly.

"Yeah?" James's thrusts are slow and he's looking at you sweetly. You hug him closer as his cock drives into you and makes you feel so unusually full.

You squeeze around him and he groans. He starts to pepper kisses onto your neck and with every thrust he presses you further into the wall, "There you go, sweetheart, squeeze around me. Show me how much you like me. Is this what you imagined when you were alone?"

James's pace quickens, "Did you come on your fingers moaning my name?" He seems lost in his own world as he mumbles obscene, filthy, questions in the shell of your ear.

"Y-yes." You admit and you let the feeling of his cock overwhelm you.

"Tell me." James suddenly squeezes your cheeks in his hand, forcing you to look at him, and his voice becomes raspy. He's fucking you with no mercy now.

"I touch myself thinking of you." You admit.

"Yeah?"

You nod and let out another moan when James lowers his hand and rubs lazy circles onto your clit.

"Look down at what I'm doing to your pretty pussy," He snaps and you lower your eyes. Your cheeks burn as you see James's cock disappear into you. "Merlin, you're mine now. Molded just for me." He whispers with a smirk.

You groan in approval and whimper, "Harder."

"Hmm?"

"Harder." You punctuate your words and moan loudly when James complies. His hips snap into yours with more precision and every time you feel him, that tightness in your stomach worsens and your vision starts to blur.

James lets out a breathy moan, "Shit, I'm gonna come." He continues fucking you until he comes inside you. However, his thrusts don't falter until he feels you squeeze around him one last time.

Your skin tingles from your orgasm as you let your head drop onto James's chest and your hands clutch at his arms. All you can focus on is your raspy breaths as James shuffles with his clothes, drops your leg, and then gently adjusts your panties as he unbunches your skirt from inside them.

You make a sound of disapproval when James holds your hand and walks you to the girls bathroom not far away from where you were. He opens the door and motions you inside with his head. You look at him with a frown, confused.

"You gotta pee." He explains softly.

Your frown deepens, "No I don't." You argue, feeling defensive.

James shakes his head with a small smile, "No, love, you really gotta pee. Trust me." You look into his eyes. Trust him? Your cheeks feel warm.

You decide it's no use arguing and you leave him outside the bathroom door. As you sit on the toilet and you stare at the floor, fear starts to bubble inside your stomach.

What have you done?

And why don't you regret it?

After you've washed your hands and swished some water around your mouth to dull the taste of cum, you exit the bathroom and James pushes himself off the wall and steps in front of you. "You okay?" He asks genuinely, a concerned look on his face. You look at him blankly, feeling all sorts of complicated emotions. James rubs his nape, "Listen, I-"

"I know. It was just the spur of the moment." You interrupt him.

James's eyebrows scrunch, "What?"

"I don't want this to happen again either, if that's what you mean." You state. You don't understand why James looks so hurt.

"Oh? I-Is that what you want?"

You blink. Is this what you wanted? No.

You nod and the glimmer in James's eyes disappears, "Well, that isn't what I want," He says. He looks so serious it feels like you're talking to a completely different person.

James walks closer to you and you let him. Delicately, he cups your cheeks in his hands and you look at him. His eyes flicker to your lips, "Y/n, tell me you hate me and I'll leave you alone. I won't even breath in your direction anymore. Tell me you want me too and I promise I'll make up for all those years I made you hate me."

Silence.

"I don't hate you," You whisper, surprising yourself for admitting that aloud, "I've never really hated you," You roll your eyes subtly, "I don't think I'm capable of hating you."

James smiles, "I couldn't hate you either."

You turn your head slightly, James's hands restricting your movement, and frown, "Then why were you such an asshole all these years?" His smile disappears and his cheeks dust pink.

"I don't know," His words die in his throat, "You made me nervous and I- I didn't know how to approach you properly. There is no excuse, I know. I was an idiot and I'm sorry." He looks into your eyes, "I'm really fucking sorry and all I want to do want to make it up to you. I'll do anything." He sounds so sincere you don't know what to think.

"James," You whisper and your hands come to brush against his forearms, "Kiss me." You say, realizing that after all you've done you haven't kissed him.

"Huh?" He makes a breathless sound, his eyes flickering to your lips.

"I said, kiss me." You say, a little harsher this time.

James doesn't waste anymore time and when his lips touch yours, you think you must have imagined them because of how delicate they are. His thumbs starts caressing across your cheeks as his lips move over yours.

You grip his arms harder and then clutch at his shirt as you kiss him with more dedication. More passion. You bite his lip lightly. "Bloody hell," James mutters as he takes a breath. His lips are bruised and his cheeks are now stained crimson. With a smile, you pull him back in and kiss him again.

You kiss him as if you'd been best friends for years. As if you'd explored each other's bodies more than just this once and you know each birthmark on each other's skin.

You kiss him like you like him — which, it's time to admit that you do.

3K notes · View notes

redvexillum · 3 months ago

Text

Listen @nyx91 I'm not well versed in the realm of writing a threesome. So, I did my best.

TAGS/WARNING: AFAB!reader, threes♡me, d♡uble penetrati♡n, rough ♡ral s♡x, rough cunniling♡s, hair pulling, an♡l sex, p in v, d♡cryphilia, multiple ♡rgasm (f!receiving), over-stimulation, sobbing, begging, d♡m/sub, sub!reader, sq♡irting, reader gets their brain f♡cked out, rough s♡x, b♡ndage

The tendrils of shadows coiled around your wrists like snakes, slithering up your arms until they pinned you helplessly to the bed. Their grip was firm, almost possessive. Your breath caught in your throat, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, as your gaze darted between the eerie glow of Vox’s blue screen and Alastor’s piercing red eyes, watching you hungrily from the darkness.

A sudden chill prickled across your skin as thin, metallic wires wrapped around your ankles, cool and unyielding, spreading your legs apart with deliberate slowness. Your body trembled, nipples hardening from both the icy air and the rush of sensation flooding through you. The slickness between your thighs grew shamefully, your cunt betraying you as it throbbed, anticipating what was to come.

Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor, sharp and calculated, until the familiar weight of claws dug into your cheeks. Alastor’s grasp was commanding as he tilted your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. The ticking radio dials were a cruel rhythm that matched the sinister gleam in his gaze.

“What was that, dear?” he hissed, his voice dripping with dark amusement. He tugged your face towards him, making your shoulders strain from where your wrists were bound above you.

“I...I just wanted...” your voice faltered, breath catching once more as Vox’s fingers slid inside you unexpectedly, stretching your aching core with a rhythm that was both torturous and electrifying. Each plunge was punctuated by the wet, obscene sound of your slick, the noise amplifying in the oppressive quiet of the room.

Alastor’s smile widened, mocking. “Eugh, Vox, must you really reward her insolence?”

“Reward?” Vox’s chuckle was low and dangerous, his thumb pressing hard against your swollen clit, making you jolt violently, your body unable to contain the sharp spike of pleasure that shot through you. “Oh, I don’t think she’s seeing this as much as a reward, do you?” His voice dropped to a whisper as he circled your sensitive bud again, dragging another strangled cry from your lips.

It was too much – pleasure and pain, an exquisite blend that left your body trembling, every nerve bursting to life with sensation. “Ngh - pl – pl-” you stammered, hips twitching, desperate to escape and yet needing more at the same time. Your cry was swallowed as your body arched, caught in the maddening whirl of overstimulation.

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, his sharp claws ghosting down the length of your neck, trailing over your collarbone before pinching one of your nipples with cruel precision. You gasped, the pain sharp but twisting into something delicious as it mingled with Vox’s relentless thrusts and the pressure on your clit.

Tears welled at the corners of your eyes, your vision blurring as your mind struggled to keep up with the overwhelming assault of your senses. Alastor’s hands worked your breasts mercilessly, squeezing and twisting your nipples, while Vox curled his fingers inside you, hitting that spot deep within that made you see stars.

Your body couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure building inside snapped like a tightly wound coil, your back arching violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream. Your release crashed over you in waves, your body spasming helplessly under their touch.

But as the tremors of your orgasm subsided, Vox withdrew his fingers abruptly, leaving you gasping, your slick clinging to him as he pulled away. His voice was a low growl, vibrating with dark satisfaction. “Now you’ve done it...who gave you permission to come?”

“You mean my permission,” Alastor scoffed, his dark grin widening as his gaze bore into you, predatory and gleaming with amusement. That familiar shiver coursed through you, his sinister energy wrapping around your body like a vice.

You rolled your eyes in defiance. “There you guys go again,” you muttered under your breath, regretting it almost instantly when you felt the sharp intensity of Alastor's red eyes fixating on you, the weight of his anger palpable.

“Is that why you’ve been such a brat lately, my dear?” His voice shifted, higher, mocking. The sound of zippers slowly undoing cut through the room, a tell-tale sign of what was to come. “You sent letters to both of us, didn’t you? Now, what was is that you wrote?” His smile turned menacing, his grin cutting through his cheeks.

Vox’s voice chimed in, repeating your words like they were the punchline of a joke. “Why don’t you fuck and make up, you old farts,” he drawled, his deep tone laced with amusement.

A wave of heat surged through your body, the embarrassment spreading from your flushed cheeks down to your chest. It had sounded so much better in your head when you wrote it. Now, in front of them, if felt immature. You shot a pleading look toward Vox, hoping for some reprieve. He was always softer with you compared to Alastor, more indulgent when Alastor revelled in pushing you to the brink.

“That’s because you two were having a pissing match, and I didn’t want to be in the middle anymore!” you exclaimed, squirming against the binds that held you captive. Your plea hung in the air, but you could see from Alastor’s expression that he was far from convinced.

“Oh? So, you thought it wise to snub me when I specifically asked you to come to my bedroom last night?” Alastor’s voice dripped with disdain, his tentacles undulating as they slithered across your body, binding your wrists behind your back. With a firm shove, he pushed you upright, his cock now in full view – thick, rigid, and the angry tip already slick with pre-cum. It pressed insistently against your cheek, hot and demanding.

“I asked Vox to go instead,” you mumbled, the words barely leaving your mouth before Alastor’s fingers curled tightly into your hair. He yanked your head forward, forcing you to face him, his cock brushing against your lips.

“Suck,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

“Hmph.” You closed your mouth defiantly, turning your head away with a stubborn pout. “No.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened dangerously at your rebellion, and you could feel the tension rising between the two of them. You knew you were playing with fire, but the constant feud between them – the passive-aggressive digs, the battle for dominance – was exhausting. You wanted them to stop. “Not until you two make up with each other. Maybe fuck out all that frustration.”

A screech of static and white noise filled the room, both Alastor’s and Vox’s displeasure evident. You winced at the sound, realizing just how much you’d overstepped. Perhaps discussing this in the middle of the bedroom, bound and at their mercy, wasn’t your wisest choice. But before you could even begin to back track, Vox’s voice cut through the air, dark and teasing.

“Oh, baby doll,” he cooed, his tone dripping with danger. “It sounds like you’re asking for a punishment from the both of us.”

Before you could protest, his long, serpentine tongue slid up your swollen cunt, the sensation jolting through your already sensitive body like a lightning bolt. You yelped, the sound muffled as Alastor took the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. The heady, intoxicating scent of him filled your senses as you instinctively began to suck, the weight of him pressing against your tongue, thick and unrelenting.

"Any drama I have with Vox is none of your concern,” Alastor growled, his words vibrating against your skin as he pushed further into your mouth, making you take every inch. “I’m sure my old pal agrees with me,”

Vox’s wet, obscene slurp echoed from between your legs, his tongue devouring your slick heat with fervour. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with a wicked gleam. “That’s right, baby. You just need to be a good little girl for us,” he rasped, his breath hot against your thighs. “Let us fuck you whenever we want, and open that pretty pussy for me.” His clawed fingers stretched you open, the sharp edges of them making you shudder as you felt the pain and pleasure mingling together.

Alastor’s breath hitched as your tongue expertly swirled around the head of his cock, your mouth working him with practised ease. “In less...crude terms,” he grunted, pulling back only to thrust deeper, the tight space of your throat accommodating him as you gagged, “we fulfill each other’s desires. That’s all that matters.”

His hips snapped forward, his balls slapping against your chin as he filled your mouth completely, the sensation overwhelming as you struggled to keep up. Every thrust pushed you further, your mind spinning from the sensory overload – Vox's tongue dragging you toward another orgasm, Alastor’s cock hitting the back of your throat with precision, the two of them taking control of every part of you.

You moaned around Alastor’s length, the sound vibrating through your throat as your body convulsed, teetering on the edge of another release, knowing you were completely at their mercy.

You had always known where you stood with them, perfectly slotting into the role they craved – a partner who could resist just enough to make the submission sweeter, but ultimately, their good little cock sleeve. The arrangement worked, and lately, you couldn’t help but notice the shift in their dynamic. Maybe this new obsession with taking you together was their way of rebuilding their bond, using your body as the bridge between their fractured relationship.

Alastor’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back as his cock slipped free from your lips, slick with your spit. You barely had time to catch your breath before Vox’s thick, wet tongue plunged into your aching cunt, delving deep and curling inside you, exploring every inch of your soaked core. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your shoulders burning from being tied together, your legs trembling as they spread wide to accommodate him.

Alastor’s voice slithered through the haze of pleasure, teasing. “Are you going to cum again, dear?” His hand stroked his length, the heavy head of his cock tapping against your lips, demanding entrance. “Are you going to cry and cum all over Vox’s tongue?”

Your breathing was ragged, your chest rising and falling as the pressure built inside, another orgasm so close on the heels of the first. The edges of your vision blurred, your mind growing fuzzy, consumed by the sensations flooding your body. You nodded weakly, unable to speak, knowing you were on the verge of tipping over the edge.

As the peak hit, your cry turned into a scream, your body convulsed, desperate to curl way from the relentless assault of Vox’s tongue, but Alastor was quicker. His cock thrust into your mouth with a rough shove, silencing your scream as the orgasm ripped through you. Your moans were muffled around his thick shaft, your saliva dripping messily from your lips as you gagged and swallowed, the raw intensity of pleasure overwhelming.

When Alastor finally eased his grip on your hair, you collapsed back onto the bed, the mattress creaking beneath your weight. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, hips jerking with the aftershocks of pleasure that still pulsed through your body. Tears mixed with the saliva on your face, your eyes rolling back as you struggled to steady your breath.

But there was no reprieve. You were barely aware of your body being shifted until you felt the solid warmth of Alastor’s chest pressing against your back. His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, the curve of his smile unmistakable as he whispered, “It seems it’s my turn to punish your ass today, dear.”

A hot breath ghosted across your neck, and then you felt it – the blunt tip of Alastor’s cock pressing insistently against your tight ring. Your eyes widened in panic, your body instinctively tensing as a high-pitched whine escaped your lips. “T-too much,” you gasped, even though you knew what was coming. They had done this countless times, and every time, they left you wrecked – completely soaked by both their release and your own.

“Oh, we know,” Vox’s deep voice rumbled from above, his hands bracketing either side of you and Alastor as he hovered over you. He didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, his thick cock drove into your slick, waiting pussy, stretching you wide with a sudden, powerful thrust. Your head fell back in a cry of agonizing pleasure, your body already trembling from the heat of it, your nerves tingling from the sheer fullness.

“Ah, that’s it, baby,” Vox groaned, sinking into you to the hilt, his cock throbbing inside your tight walls. “You squeeze me so fucking good.” His voice was a dark, satisfied purr, every word dripping with lust.

Bound and helpless, your wrists tied behind your back and pressed against Alastor’s stomach, you squirmed between them. Alastor’s voice was a low, dangerous murmur in your ear, his cock now teasing your other entrance. “We’re not stopping, dear, not until you’ve learned to be a good...” His tip pressed against your tight opening, pushing just inside, the pressure maddening. “Obedient...” His breath hitched as he thrust deeper, sliding into your ass in one swift, brutal motion. “Girl.”

You screamed, the sound raw and desperate, your body overwhelmed by the twin sensations of being filled to the brim. The stretch was almost too much, but at the same time, it felt so unbearably good. Your cunt clenched tight around Vox’s cock as Alastor’s length pushed deeper into you, the two of them moving in tandem, leaving no space for you to catch your breath.

Vox let out a guttural groan, his eyes rolling back as he revelled in the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him, the thin wall separating him from Alastor’s cock rubbing against his own. “Fuck, that’s right, baby. So, fucking tight, so fucking perfect.” He thrust harder, deeper, his hips slamming against yours as you writhed beneath them.

Alastor’s curses were hot against your ear, his body trembling with the force of his restraint, both moving in sync as they claimed you together. You could barely think, barely breathe, your mind reduced to nothing but the overwhelming sensations of being filled, completely owned by the two Overlords who had you at their mercy.

Every thrust, every movement drove you closer to the brink, your body unable to hold back as another orgasm built within you, threatening to shatter you all over again. They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, driving you higher and higher until there was nothing left but the raw, aching pleasure of being utterly devoured by them both.

Vox leaned down, hips lips capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and making you taste yourself on him. The heat of it, the slick, possessive way his tongue curled against yours, muffled your moans as his cock, along with Alastor’s, continued to ravage you.

Their relentless thrusts filled you to the brink, stretching you in ways that had you teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Alastor’s hot breath tickled your ear, tiny, almost imperceptible moans escaping him as he pumped into you from behind.

Your body trembled, overwhelmed. You knew you wouldn’t last long – not with the way they were fucking you, both cocks hammering against every sensitive spot inside you. The remnants of your previous orgasms still echoed through your core, heightening every sensation, making it impossible to hold back as another wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Vox’s pace quickened, his balls slapping against you and Alastor. The rhythm between the two men dissolved into chaos, each thrust growing more frantic. Sometimes they filled you at the same time, their thick cocks stretching your pussy and ass simultaneously, and other times they alternated, the sensation driving you wild.

Vox pulled back from the kiss, panting heavily, his lips wet with your shared saliva. His head fell back as he continued to pound into you like a man possessed. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” he moaned, his voice low and breathless. “So fucking right, both of you...feels so fucking good.”

Alastor let out a rare, soft moan in response, his usually composed demeanour slipping. The wet, lewd sounds of your soaked pussy and their hard cocks slamming into you filled the room, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat.

Your head fell back, resting against Alastor’s shoulder as the orgasm built inside you, threatening to consume you whole. You screamed as it hit, your voice raw and hoarse, your body convulsing weakly this time around.

The intensity of it shattered you, warm liquid spraying from your cunt, drenching Vox and dripping down onto Alastor’s cock. Your heart pounded, your chest heaving as the pleasure tore through you, leaving you trembling and slick with sweat, your back sliding against Alastor’s chest.

Vox grunted, still thrusting through your orgasm, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you louder now. “Oh, fuck, baby doll, is that for us?” His voice was rough, teasing, as he continued to drive into you. “You squirting just for us?” His words sent another ripple of pleasure through you, the sensation overbearing, overwhelming.

“Heh, Alastor, come on, I know you want to blow your load,” Vox taunted, his voice strained as he fought to hold back.

Alastor’s breath hitched, his hips slamming into you harder, his cock stretching your ass with every thrust. “Why don’t you come first?” he rasped, his voice dark with lust. “I can smell how close you are.”

Your body was limp, utterly spent, but they didn’t stop. Both of them pushed you further, Vox’s hips snapping against you, his movements sending delicious jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body. The pressure on your clit, the friction, was too much, too good. You were already nearing the edge again.

“Pl-please, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks, your body shaking with exhaustion and pleasure.

Vox chuckled darkly, leaning in to whisper, “Oh, baby doll, you just sealed your fate.”

Alastor’s tongue flicked out, tracing along your cheek to collect your tears, his hum of approval sending shivers down your spine. A low, feral growl rumbled deep in his chest, and you felt him swell inside you. Your ass stretched further as Alastor’s cock grew, his control slipping as the sheer size of him pushed you to your limits.

That was Vox’s undoing. With a strangled curse, he came firm, his hot release flooding your pussy, filling you with a deep, satisfying warmth, Alastor’s hips slammed into you with a final, brutal thrust, his cock pulsing as he followed suit, spilling his thick cum into your ass with the same ferocity. The two men groaned, their bodies trembling against yours, their cocks twitching as they emptied themselves inside you.

The sensation of being so full, of both of them throbbing within you, sent another shiver of pleasure through your body. Your breathing was ragged, harsh, as you tried to come down from the high, but they didn’t give you a moment to recover. Their cocks softened, slipping from you, and you let out a small, breathy moan as the sensation of their hot cum spilling from both holes sent one last wave of pleasure rippling through you.

You barely registered the binds around your wrists loosening, your body too spent to move. All you could feel was the heat of their cum dripping from you, your holes convulsing weakly as they expelled the remnants of their release. Your mind was foggy, lost in the haze of exhaustion and pleasure, the only thing anchoring you to reality being the sight of their satisfied, devilish, smirking faces.

You were completely spent, utterly wrecked, your body trembling and slick with sweat and cum. Every muscle ached, and your mind was swimming in a fog of pleasure and exhaustion. Yet, as you lay there, barely able to catch your breath, it was clear from the gleam in their eyes—they weren’t done with you yet.

Alastor's fingers brushed against your cheek, deceptively gentle for someone who had just ravaged you so thoroughly. His grin widened, a dark promise lingering in the curve of his lips. “Oh, darling," he cooed, voice dripping with dangerous sweetness, "you didn’t think we were finished, did you?”

Vox’s chuckle rumbled from somewhere behind you, and you felt the bed shift as he moved, his presence hovering close. “You see,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “we still need to teach you a little lesson about what happens when you decide to act like a brat.”

And as Alastor’s hand curled possessively around your throat, and Vox’s lips pressed against your shoulder, you realized you weren’t just at their mercy—you were craving it.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

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tojisun · 1 year ago

Text

established simon (ghost) riley x fem reader; eventual john price x fem reader; hinted t141 x fem reader

!! suggestive - minors dni; hints of d/s; 944 words

johnny almost falls from his seat as he sees who’s closing in.

he smacks kyle’s thigh, the younger man hissing in anger before following johnny’s jutted finger, only for his own jaw to fall open in surprise when he finally sees what’s got johnny’s face spasming. john sighs through his nose before twisting, tipping his boonie just a little bit to clear his vantage.

ah, he thinks, his own heart lodging itself in his throat. no wonder.

simon finally made it, the tall man weaving his way around the crowd and sidestepping strangers with passion. price knows it’s less about his aversion to being touched by strangers and more about securing the package cradled gently in his toned arms – you.

you’re not tiny by normal standards, john could tell, but beside ghost, you look a whole lot smaller. you’re dressed in a frilly pink dress, looking too prim and too proper for the establishment. for the man holding you.

john has to briefly turn his eyes away, licking the back of his teeth as a spike of hunger seizes him whole.

you and ghost finally make it to the group, and they all watch, with little shame, as ghost claims the seat they’ve saved for him before pulling you into his lap. you follow with a fond huff, using simon’s shoulder to steady yourself as you wiggle around to find a comfortable position.

all throughout, simon’s hands are firmly on you, touching and guiding, but also marking and claiming. john thinks it’s also a reminder to the squad: she’s mine.

john nurses his whiskey, swallowing down the alcohol to quench his thirst.

then, you finally look at them, beautiful doe eyes blinking up at them with curiosity and interest.

fuck, you’re too goddamn beautiful.

“hey there, little lass,” johnny greets first, his pale cheeks tinged with the slightest pink, and his arm out for you to shake. they all watch as you do just that, tender hand and dewy skin meeting scarred and battle-worn ones.

the contrast has john gripping his glass of whiskey, and, unwittingly, a brief thought flashes through his mind: how beautiful you would look being corrupted by them all.

as he shots the rest of his alcohol, his eyes accidentally meet simon’s.

john expected anger or even a flash of betrayal, instead, all he sees is the way simon’s eyes are heavy with thinly-veiled interest.

oh.

“hello,” your reply breaks the eye contact and both men shift to look at you. you introduce yourself, and john mouths your name to himself, testing the way it rolls off his tongue.

kyle hums from beside johnny, extending his hand out next with a charming smile. you smile back at him, still looking like a perfect picture of a good and proper girl. not even the way that you’re sat on the lap of a man whose face is fully obscured by a plain balaclava could alter the way you are all dolled up and darling for them all.

“cap’n?” kyle’s voice pierces through his thoughts and john blinks back into reality before instantly turning his eyes to their guest.

don’t mind the fact that it had been kyle who asked for him – john is already giving you his full attention.

“hey there, sweet girl,” john’s voice is a purr – a sure gamble – and he watches the way you freeze, your eyes going wide as you clock in the desire coating his words.

johnny and kyle straighten up from their seats, their lips pinched together as their eyes flick between their captain and their lieutenant.

but ghost doesn’t do anything.

instead, they watch as simon’s hand snakes up to your throat from where it rested on your stomach. the glide was slow, deliberately putting on a show, and they watched with rapt attention as simon gently squeezed your throat – the action not made to hurt but to ground you.

simon uses this hold to tug you closer to him until his lips are hovering over your ear.

“c’mon, love,” simon’s voice rumbles within the startling silence that has overtaken their little group. “what do good girls say?”

you lick your lips and their eyes zone in on the little sliver of your tongue, their chests constricting when they finally register your blown up eyes, your pupils eating up the colours of your irises.

“hello, sir,” you finally murmur, your voice breathy and light as you turn to john.

john pretends that he doesn’t understand why the mere mention of his title slipping from your pouty lips had set his nerves on fire.

“yeah,” he hears himself say. “would never tire hearin’ you callin’ me sir, that’s for sure sweetheart.”

johnny chokes from somewhere beside him but he doesn’t pay it any mind because simon looks at him, contemplative, before giving a short nod.

it’s all john needs before he reaches out and brushes your hair away from your face. you’re still staring at him with wide eyes, your breaths passing between your pearly teeth and glossy lips, and john ducks down just enough that only you and simon could hear.

“tell me to stop now, little one.”

your resounding whine and the soft shake of your head gives john the answer he needs.

but simon clicks his tongue. “use y’r words, love.”

“don’t,” you begin, sighing in quiet pleasure when simon’s other hand travels down your skirt, his warm palm rubbing along the expanse of your thigh. “don’t stop. please, sir.”

both john and simon rumble in elation at your response. at your beautiful docility. at how proper and good a girl you truly are.

and now, you could be john’s girl too.

#suns.f #are the daddy issues ringing yet bc istg its all i keep thinking about when i wrote this :((#NEED THEM BOTH #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john price #soap mw2 #gaz cod #suns

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moremaybank · 1 year ago

Text

BREEDING — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, fingering, language/dirty talk

author's note happy first day of kinktober, lovelies! don't forget to like and reblog! ♡︎

kinktober masterlist ;; jj masterlist

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Love this pussy. I love it. So wet and creamy and tight, princess. Can’t fuckin’ stop.”

Looking down at where you two were joined, it was a sight that he marvelled at. Your pussy sucked him in tight despite how long he’d been inside you, hot and soaked and promising to stay that way just for him. His cock was drenched, coated in the creamy goodness of both your past releases. He’d been shooting his cum deep inside you for a while now, with no signs of stopping. It dripped out of you, creating a trail from your seeping entrance down to your ass, and then soaking the sheets beneath you.

You leaned up onto your elbows, one hand snaking around the back of his neck so you could pull him into a searing kiss. He moaned into your mouth, tongue dancing with yours desperately as he tasted himself on you. When you pulled away, your fingers scratched at his scalp lightly before you tugged on his locks. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop until you’re fucking empty, J. Want it all."

He kissed you again, hard. Your words ignited a fire in him that he’d previously thought was starting to burn out due to his exhaustion. Somehow, thanks to you, his energy spiked and he started to move faster, guiding your legs tight around his waist to be closer to you. His hands slid down to your hips, using them as leverage while he pulled you toward him to meet his thrusts.

“Pretty girl just wants to be filled ‘n covered with my cum, huh?” JJ taunted. His voice was fucked out, hoarse and breathy as he fucked into you deep. The tips of his blonde strands hung forward while his eyes roamed over you entirely. Your pretty tits bounced with the impact of his thrusts, the hand you had working at your clit. He reached your face, glowing and sticky from perspiration, your kiss-swollen lips parted, allowing your euphoric sounds to escape. The same ones that sent him into a trance and drove him to fulfill every single one of your wishes.

“I wanna drown in it, daddy.”

A low growl emitted from his lips. “So fuckin’ dirty, baby. Gonna knock you up for sure, make you the prettiest mama on the island.”

“Yeah?” You asked. “You want everyone to know whose pussy this is?”

“Damn fuckin’ right. Whose is it, baby?” He smacked your hand away and thumbed at your clit while his eyes held yours in a locked gaze. “Tell me.”

Your toes curled as warmth spread throughout your lower belly for the umpteenth time that night. “Yours, J.”

“Louder.”

“Yours!” Your brows pulled together, your head flung backward as JJ fucked into you with reckless abandon. Every last bit of him shoved into you, nudging your cervix harshly and stretching you out wide. Your stroke on his possessive side did wonders, allowing JJ to fuck you the way his carnal desires craved. His skin smacked against yours loudly, and he felt himself on the verge of his orgasm. “Gimme your cum, baby. Please.”

“God, fuck!” His voice echoed off the walls as he released hot spurts inside of you, painting your walls with his cum again. The squelching noises oozing from your pussy sounded like heaven and felt even better as he slipped in and out of you, helping you reach your high. You clutched onto his length hard, milking him as you started to unravel. Your moans changed to cries as you dove headfirst over the edge. “That’s right. Take my fucking cum, baby. Take it. All of it.”

He punctuated his orders with cruel, deep thrusts, going and going until he knew you’d come down from your orgasm. Slowly, he pulled out, still toying with your clit as he ducked down and buried his face in your pussy. His kisses granted you sloppy kisses over your puffy folds.

“Show me,” he said. “Come on. Show daddy, baby. Show me how much cum that pretty pussy’s holding.”

You pushed his cum out of you as per his request, feeling it seep out of you. His eyes shone with wonder as he let out an excited gasp. “Wow. Look at that. Pussy’s so good, baby. Held so much of me.”

You let out a whine when you felt his fingers scooped up his release and pushed it back into you. His other hand ran up your body, cradling your cheek as his thumb swept across your skin. The action was soothing, trying to encourage you. “Can’t waste a drop, baby. Want you carryin’ my baby by the time I’m done with you.”

“J, baby, I can’t.”

“Shh.” His fingers abandoned your cunt, shoving themselves into your mouth to quiet your whimpers. He gripped the base of his cock, sliding his length up and down your core in a warning. His tip caught against your clit, causing your hips to jerk up. He then slotted himself back inside of you, sliding back inside of you with an easy glide.

Though overstimulated, your pussy still clenched around him. You were still hazy, the effects of your last orgasm not having abandoned you yet. Your head slumped against the pillow beneath it, and you shivered when JJ started to move slowly.

“See? You’re still squeezin’ me, pretty girl. Know you can take it. Wanna give you more cum, let me give you more.”

⋆༺♱༻⋆

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @pankowperfection @taintedxkisses @mvybanks @softherveauxs @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @jjmaybanksgun

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