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[abbyslovergirlxo]

could you write more for ambessa? thank you very much

Yes, General

Ambessa Merdarda x FemReader

Word count: 1.3k

Synopsis: You find yourself in General Merdarda’s bedroom, partaking in what she calls ‘training’.

Warnings: soft/hard!dom Ambessa, sub!reader, enforcer!reader, overstimulation, breath play, choking, wlw, Ambessa is just a lil mean, strap usage

A/n: you’re so real for this and yw!! I wrote this on my work break lol. I GO NUTS FOR THIS LADY LIKEEEE. I hope you guys like this tho lol! not proofread and a little rushed to be honest. But here we are. Also Sevika x Brothel!reader coming soon 🙈

“ Move your hand.”

The command was surprisingly gentle but it was in direct contrast to the speed of her hips. Years of combat and taking over literal countries must’ve attributed to such stamina, you’d always thought. But you didn’t hold much thoughts now, not when Ambessa was promoting you to avert the hand that currently pushed against her hip.

“ bessa…” You were breathless. “ p-please…”

“ It’s General, soldier. Hurry now, move it. Your training isn’t finished.”

This isn’t exactly what you’d call training. But she clearly thought otherwise. If anything you should’ve known the moment Rictus appeared in your stationed room, telling your commander something along the lines of ‘ General needs her’. Of course you were sent away without a hiccup, without so much as a ‘ what on earth for’. Nobody questioned the general.

You secretly regretted your release having been so smooth. Now you could barely feel your legs, for the first two hours they ached unbearably with all those the positions she forced you in. You moaned out a complaint to her about it at one point. Strong soldiers push through the pain, was all you received in return.

Ambessa grew impatient, deciding to move the shaky hand herself. She laced her fingers through it, holding it down against the bed as you wept. She was able to pick up her speed more freely now, quite viciously too. The stark black strap disappeared into you over and over.

You were countless orgasms in and she showed no signs of slowing down. Even now in your stomach you felt another threatening to surface. With tears in your eyes you took in the sight before you, Ambessa huffing and groaning, each of your thighs pooled around her. She was naked, her muscles flexing with each thrust, especially her stomach.

It glistened slightly, wet with you, under the ambient lighting of her bedroom. Her hair was pulled into a bun, a few strands loose and frizzy. You were fixing your lips to ask your General for a release when suddenly she pressed the entire weight of her chest on you, your stomach colliding with hers.

Ambessa slowed her thrust a bit in this position, deeper with its trajectory. Your pussy clenched around her harder, your legs wrapping around her instinctively. You grunted at her weight but appreciated it nonetheless, her warmth overheating your already scorched skin.

She kissed along your shoulders, drinking in your “hah…hah…hah’s” flowing from your mouth. She got close to your ear, nipping at it and rejoicing in the reaction she pulled from your body. It reminded her of the way you’d hitch every time she’d slap your ass.

“ How are you feeling?” She whispered.

You pouted knowing it really meant to report your current standing. She smiled at you still trying to rip your hand from her grip, though now with the strong woman practically swallowing you that was impossible. Even more than before.

“ feeling…tired, g-general.”

“ And?” She prompted.

Good, you thought. So fucking good.

Silence met her, well if you consider whimpers and moans silent. Regardless you didn’t answer, mind too caught up. Instead you closed your eyes, rocking your hips mindlessly against her.

This caused her to slow down even more, instead doing thrust that were deep and harsh, the harness burning against your skin.You yelped, your free hand gripping her bicep. She pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face, gripping your face. You opened your eyes now, weeping.

God, she loved this face. She loved everything about it, the way your skin flushed, your eyes fluttered closed, lips unable to close from all the noises you needed to let out. And don’t get Ambessa started on the salty tears you always offered her. To her, this face was a testament to how good she fucked you. And you looked like this every single time she was inside of you.

“ Hey…” she cooed. “ Stay with me.”

You nodded as best as you could, hoping to appease her.

She smiled down at you, her speed picking up now in what you assumed was a reward. Regardless of the reason, you considered it a reward with the way it sent another rush of pleasure through your stomach.

Deciding that you still weren’t as alert as she needed you, she let go of your chin. Your head immediately sank into the bed, eyes threatening to turn white. Short lived though, before she finally released your hand. She immediately found use for it. She couldn’t help but smile wilder seeing you already got your clit wet for her.

Ambessa thought you were going to combust with the sounds she pulled from you, she wouldn’t have put it off so long if she knew you’d give her such a show. Your legs shook but found no other place to be but around her, toes a second away from curling.

“ t-t…too much—“

You attempted to give yourself relief, using your own hand to rip hers away. That didn’t work of course, her fingers were big and calloused, much stronger than yours. All you earned was a glare, an especially threatening one. Cowardly, you moved it, letting your fingers tangle into the sheets.

Her face softened at this, pace speeding up again to that impossible speed. Sweat melted between the two of you as her breast and stomach pressed into yours.

You thought for a moment you heard a husky whispered ‘so messy’. But you couldn’t be sure, the plap plap plap’s were louder than whatever else echoed in the room.

Something was burning, aching, and it was growing harder to ignore.

“ general! ‘m…gonna cum!”

“ Thats good, Darling.”

Your orgasm didn’t even get to hit you before her large brown hand was wrapped around your throat. Dizziness found you when she applied pressure, each finger squeezing into your neck. Instinctively you jerked slightly, using your hands to paw at it. It did absolutely nothing as you cried, throat tight and oxygen lowering.

“ Go ahead, finish.”

Pouting, desperate nails scratching her knuckles, you finally let go. It felt like a freight train had hit your nerves, every part of you felt like it was on fire. You hadn’t even felt it when you squirted, the only evidence being the stream of wetness down your ass and on Ambessa.

But she didn’t let up, instead she lifted her head so she could look at you again, eyes locked. She kept her thrust up, pressing harder on your throat, you kicked slightly, your ankle hitting her back slightly.

She only smiled.

“ You’ve got it, Darling. You can take it.”

Strength gone, your hands dropped, slump and mind gone. You felt like you were on the brink on unconsciousness, the line between being here and there blurred. But it never blurred the feeling over your orgasm being dragged out, cunt sensitive and weeping.

She nodded proudly at you, relishing in the way your body fought for both pleasure and air.

“ Yes, juuust like that, that’s a good girl.”

Your next orgasm wasn’t as intense but it left your legs shaking, mind empty and a satisfied Ambessa. Once her hand was off your throat you coughed violently. She snuck a hand behind your back, rubbing it. Once you calmed she pulled out of you, effortlessly tossing the harness off.

Wordlessly she picked up your still limp body. You simply crumpled into her, tired beyond belief. She walked around her grand bed frame, laying you down on the left side. She was sure to out your head on the pillows gently. Gently she crouched down next to you, leveled.

You whispered a thank you to her and she returned that with small methodical peppered kisses on your sweaty skin.

“ You did such a good job for me.”

You smiled weakly at her, wondering silently if you could be credited for anything. After all she had been the one doing most of it, just breaking you into two. But you decided that accepting the praise was better than pondering.

“ you did too Ambessa.”

She opted to not correct you. She always thought Ambessa sounded better on your lips rather than general.

“ Such a sweet girl you are.”

[fairy-angel222]

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 જ⁀⟡

Something changed in Nanami when he got you pregnant. His protective nature coming out whenever it came to you, his wife. He was so sweet, pampering you and making sure to do everything you needed. Cleaning the house, cooking you food, going out to work, everything. He refused to let his precious sweetheart put any form of stress on herself, scolding you softly when you tried to take over the chores.

He was extremely excited for you two’s baby. Already setting up the extra bedroom for when the lil guy, or girl, was here.

But if there was one thing your husband especially loved about the pregnancy, was you. Loved to see that round stomach of yours, your breasts heavy and full with the perfect amount of firmness.

When you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Nanami was elated. Everything was great. And to make things even better for him, your breasts had gotten even fuller. After the first few weeks, you were both craving each other. Having already put your daughter to sleep when you were laying on your bed, Nanami in between your legs with his head in your neck.

Nanami had always appreciated your body in bed, squeezing and groping at your pretty pair of tits. Latching his mouth onto your nipples with a groan. Now that they were filled with milk, he appreciated them even more.

His thick cock fucking lazily into you, your fingers running through his hair as you moaned, soft whimpers falling past your lip as slow thrusts began grinding against your walls. “Kento..” you mewled, your eyes closed at how gentle Nanami was being with you.

Nanami hummed, his fingers playing with your nipples as he kissed down your neck. Eyes widening when you let out a whine, feeling your nipples letting out a light stream of liquid. Looking down to see the watery white liquid coating his skin.

“Nnh— ‘m sorry, can’t be controlled,” you moaned, watching the man simply stare before he smiled. “It’s more than okay sweetheart, been meaning to try this for a while.”

You let out a cry when your husband’s tongue swirled around your perked nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud with a groan when the warm liquid hit his tongue. His hand moving to squeeze at the other one as he gulped the sweetness.

“Kento, hmm.. oh b-baby—” you mewled, slightly surprised at how passionately he sucked at the soft flesh.

“God sweetheart— who knew this was so sweet, can live on it forever.” he breathed, his hips rolling sensually into yours as you whimpered his name, your grip on his hair tightening as you tugged at his blond strands.

Nanami’s hips rocked your body back and forth into the sheets, your stomach filled with heat at the sensation. “Kento.. so good.” His mouth moving onto your other breast as he pressed into it, once again allowing the taste to settle on his tongue. Suckling softly at the leaking bud.

Nanami grunted, his thrusts sloppy as he felt his cock twitch. “Tastes so good sweetheart, gonna have to do this more often. Whole body’s just so damn perfect.”

“Nngh, ‘m so close Kento,” your breathing speeding up and your toes curled. “So close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweetheart?” Lapping at the still flowing substance. Biting down softly and making you let out a cry, your back arching in a string of whiny moans as you clenched down around him.

“Love you so much, pretty mama. Love you so fucking much.” Your husband groaned, holding you tight against him as he continued to fuck into you. Your moans getting louder as your pussy gushed messily around him. “There we go, so good f’ me.”

His thrusts slow and deep before he was stilling inside you, his eyes meeting yours as his abs tensed. Spurts of his warm cum painting your insides.

You whimpered as you were filled up, your breathing steadying as the rising movements of your chest matched his. “Love you so much Kento- oh no” A heavy sigh cut you off as Nami’s high pitched cries echoed through the room. You whined, “gotta go see what she needs.”

Nanami shook his head, placing a kiss to your lips. “Get yourself cleaned up yeah? I’ll go check on our baby girl.” You smiled in response, you really couldn’t ask for a better husband.

[eimiette]

late nights

࣪★ ⋆ ˙ ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: in the quiet moments between solving cases and late night paperwork, you and spencer blur the lines between friendship and something more, navigating the unspoken tension with stolen kisses in dark corners of the bau evidence room. GENRE: smut with plot, idiots in love (again, sorry) CW/TAGS: soft!dom spencer (duh), exhibitionism?, piv sex, oral f!receiving, lots of banter, est!fwb relationship, reader is referred to as a girl, praise asf.

the bullpen was nearly deserted, save for you and spencer reid, who were still chained to your desks, slogging through the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional rustle of paper filled the quiet. everyone else had long since headed home, but you were too stubborn to leave until the job was done—and spencer was, well, spencer.

you glanced over at him, amused by how intensely he was concentrating on his work. his brow was furrowed, and his pen moved quickly over the report, as if he were solving a puzzle instead of filling out the same tedious forms as you. the sight made you smirk.

“hey, genius,” you called out, breaking the silence. “you got a second?”

he didn’t bother looking up. “for you? always,” he replied, his tone so casual it almost sounded sincere.

“great. i need your help in the evidence room,” you continued, stacking up a few files on your desk. “figured you could speed things up with that supercomputer brain of yours.”

he finally looked up, quirking an eyebrow. “and what, exactly, do i get out of this arrangement?”

you grinned. “the satisfaction of knowing you’re contributing to a more organized workspace. and, you know, my eternal gratitude.”

spencer sighed in mock resignation, setting down his pen. “fine. but only because i can’t stand to watch you fumble around in there any longer.”

you laughed as you led him down the hallway. “oh, please. we both know you live for this stuff. reorganizing the evidence room? it’s like christmas came early for you.”

he rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. “if this is your idea of christmas, remind me not to accept any holiday invitations from you.”

you reached the heavy door of the evidence room and pushed it open, flipping on the overhead light. “i don’t know, i think you’d have fun. nothing like a little chaos to keep you on your toes.”

“or give me a migraine,” spencer muttered, stepping inside and taking in the rows of shelves filled with boxes and files. “alright, what’s the plan?”

“simple,” you said, setting the files down on a metal table in the center of the room. “we’ve got to merge these old case files into the new system. you’re a walking rolodex, so i’m counting on you to make this as painless as possible.”

he shot you a sideways look. “i see. so i’m just here to do all the thinking?”

“you got it,” you replied with a grin. “and i’m here to provide moral support and keep you entertained.”

“lucky me,” he said dryly, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he crouched down to examine the boxes on the lower shelves. “i hope your idea of entertainment is better than your idea of organizing.”

you crouched down beside him, nudging him with your shoulder. “you wound me, reid. i thought we were in this together.”

he snorted softly. “yeah, together in the sense that i’m doing all the work, and you’re supervising.”

“hey, i’m contributing,” you shot back, pulling a box toward you. “i’m providing witty commentary. keeps things interesting.”

he shook his head, but his smile grew. “i’ll give you that. it’s definitely not boring.”

you fell into an easy rhythm, working side by side as you sorted through the files. the banter flowed naturally, the quiet hum of the evidence room providing a backdrop to your back-and-forth. every now and then, you’d catch spencer watching you out of the corner of his eye, and each time, he’d quickly look away, like he’d been caught at something.

at one point, you both reached for the same box at the same time, your hands brushing. you felt a spark of something—maybe it was just static, maybe it was more—and you glanced up to find him looking right at you, closer than you realized.

“careful,” you said with a smirk, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “people might think you’re trying to hold my hand.”

he didn’t move his hand away. instead, his eyes held yours, the corner of his mouth lifting. “like what? that i’m trying to be helpful?”

you chuckled. “or that you’re trying to get handsy.”

he smirked. “not sure that’s a compliment”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “it’s not. but you know, you keep this up, and someone’s gonna catch on.”

“maybe,” he replied, his voice low, “but that didn’t stop you last time.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning in slightly. “last time, we were off the clock. think you can pull this off at work?”

reid's eyes hung low,“i’m a fan of multitasking. besides, you always say i need to get out of my comfort zone.”

you gave him a playful smirk, leaning in closer. “is that what you’re calling this? because it feels more like you’re trying to test your luck.”

reid’s eyes widened, feigning innocence. “i’m just here to help you with the evidence. if you’re reading anything more into it, that’s all on you.”

you raised an eyebrow and he let out a soft chuckle, his hand lightly brushing your arm. “i promise, i’m just focused on finding those files. though if you think my intentions are less than professional, well, maybe you’re the one with a wild imagination.”

you let your hand trail lightly along his chest, raising an eyebrow. “oh, i’m sure you’re ‘focused,’ but i don’t think it’s on the evidence files.”

reid’s smile widened, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested. “noticed, did you? guess i can’t help but be a little distracted when you’re this close.”

you held your breath as reid gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to cup your cheek. the touch was soft, but the way he looked at you made your pulse quicken.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “i’ve been thinking about you all night. can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? and why’s that?”

he let his fingers trail gently down from your cheek to your waist, his touch making you shiver slightly. “partly because you’re wearing that skirt. it’s just... distracting.”

you felt a jolt at his touch, his fingers brushing lightly under the hem of your shirt. “distracting, huh? how so?”

reid’s gaze dropped to where his hand rested on your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin. “every time i tried to work, all i could think about was how you looked—how you’ve been driving me fucking insane since you walked in.”

his fingers trailed lightly under the bottom of your shirt, his touch gentle and deliberate. you held your breath, feeling the heat of his hand against your skin.

“you’re making it really hard to stay professional,” he continued, his voice low and husky. “i keep imagining what it’d be like if you were closer, if i could...”

you felt a rush of warmth at his words and his touch. “and what if i don’t mind a little distraction?”

reid’s eyes flickered with a mix of desire and appreciation. “if that’s the case, then i’m more than happy to be distracted.”

without warning, reid’s body pressed against yours, and you could feel the raw heat emanating from him. his lips were soft yet demanding as they captured yours, and your hands instinctively reached up to entangle in his hair. the sensation of his lips moving against yours was electrifying, making your heart race and your skin tingle.

reid's hands found your waist, gripping tightly as he maneuvered you backwards. your back collided with the smooth surface of a nearby desk, papers scattering to the floor unheeded. in one fluid motion, he lifted you onto its edge, positioning himself between your legs. the wood was cool against your flushed skin as reid pressed his body flush against yours.

his lips broke away from your mouth, trailing a searing path along your jawline. you tilted your head back with a soft gasp, granting him better access as he kissed down the column of your throat. his breath was hot against your skin, each exhalation sending tingles of electricity coursing through your body.

reid's voice was low and husky as he murmured against your neck. "you're so pretty," reid whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. his lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, the sensation igniting sparks of pleasure. "been wanting you all day beautiful."

his hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. you felt yourself responding, a familiar warmth building low in your belly. reid's fingers danced along your curves as he continued murmuring praises and promises.

"’gonna make you feel so good," he purred, nipping gently at your earlobe.

your breath hitched as his words and touch inflamed your desire. you pressed closer, craving more contact. a soft moan escaped your lips as reid's hands found sensitive spots, expertly stoking your arousal.his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your bare skin. his fingers dipped under the lace of your panties, tracing tantalizing patterns. he leaned in to kiss you again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you could taste the sweetness of the coffee he'd had earlier as his tongue explored your mouth.

with a growl, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside. the cold metal of the desk against your bare skin made you gasp, but the shock quickly dissipated as reid's fingers found your slick folds. he stroked your clit, eliciting a breathy moan.

your body arched involuntarily as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. "fuck, spence..."

reid smirked, his eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so wet already," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

he leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as his fingers continued their maddening rhythm. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric of your shirt. you were lost in the sensations, your body moving in sync with reid's.

he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over you hungrily, “"i want to taste you so badly."

without waiting for a response, he knelt before you, spreading your thighs. his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, causing a rush of pleasure. his breath was hot and intoxicating as he worked his way up, teasing you.

“spread your legs baby, that’s it… wider.” his hands slid up your calves, his palms rough against your skin. his fingertips danced along your thighs, sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

his voice was low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. you obeyed, your knees falling apart, revealing yourself to him.

reid's tongue traced along the crease where your thigh met your hips, teasing you.

“spence…” you whined, arching into him, craving his touch.

his hands slid higher, pushing your skirt further up and exposing your soaked center. he licked his lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"fuck, baby, you look so good like this." he leaned in, his lips ghosting over your core. "so pretty and wet... so ready for me."

a whimper escaped your throat as his breath washed over you. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently, urging him to continue. he complied, his tongue flicking out to trace the outline of your lips. you shuddered at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily.

reid's fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he lapped at your center. you moaned, your head falling back against the desk.

"tastes so good," he groaned, his breath hot against your skin.

you rocked your hips, grinding against his mouth, desperate for more friction. he responded, his tongue circling your clit, teasing you.

"spence..." you panted, your voice hoarse.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, his pupils dilated with lust.

"yes?"

"i need... please..."

"what do you need, baby?"

you bit your lip, struggling to form words.

"please, spence, i need you. i need you inside me. please."

your words sent a visible shudder through him. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"since you asked so nicely..."

with a groan, he stood, undoing his belt and zipper with frantic urgency. his cock sprang free, hard and aching. you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly. he pressed his lips to yours, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

reid's lips never left yours as his hand shifted to his back pocket, smoothly pulling out his wallet. his movements were quick but deliberate, fingers deftly sliding inside to retrieve a condom. as he did, you began unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers working swiftly down the row of buttons, each one exposing more of his skin. his breath hitched slightly at the sensation of your touch, his focus torn between getting the condom and the feel of your hands on him. you could feel his muscles tensing under your fingertips as you pushed his shirt open, and he held the condom up with a small, breathless grin, his eyes locked on yours.

he tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his cock with practiced ease. with a soft moan, he positioned himself between your thighs, his erection pressing against your entrance. you gripped his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly to meet him, impatient and eager.

he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting out to taste you. you moaned softly, returning his kiss, your tongues dancing together.

"spence, please."

he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed into you.

you gasped at the sensation, your body arching off the desk, desperate for more. he was hot and hard, stretching and filling you, setting every nerve ending on fire. he began to move, slow and steady, his eyes locked on yours.

"you feel so good, pretty girl," he groaned, his voice husky.

he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, guiding you as he increased his pace, “"wrap your legs around my waist."

your body complied without thought, locking him into place. the change in angle had you gasping and moaning as the delicious friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

reid's eyes fluttered shut, his head falling forward, his lips brushing against yours. he guided your back to the desk top and held you there, thrusting into you, his pace relentless.

your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as the pressure built inside you. your fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as you climbed toward the peak.

"don't close your eyes, baby. look at me."

you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, losing yourself in his brown eyes.

"that's it, beautiful. so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he shifted his weight, changing the angle once again, his hips grinding against yours.

the sensation was too much, and you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you.

spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as you clenched around him, milking him. he thrust into you once, twice, and then he was coming, his body shuddering with pleasure.

the two of you collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap, reid's weight pinning you to the desk. you lay there, his heartbeat thudding against yours, his breath hot on your skin.

sitting up from the desk, you felt a gentle, lingering warmth from the moment as you stretched. reid stepped closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was tender but filled with the lingering heat of the encounter.

with a gentle hand, he guided you to your feet, helping you up from the desk. as you stood, your legs trembled slightly. you pulled up your skirt as spencer also redressed. “so,” you teased, nudging his side, “is this where you quote some obscure fucking statistic about how good sex improves cognitive function or something?”

reid chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of mischief. “actually, studies show that it releases a significant amount of oxytocin, which can enhance bonding and trust. not that you needed an excuse.”

you rolled your eyes, helping him button up his shirt “trust you to turn this into a science lesson. oh my god you might as well give a damn ted talk on the benefits of cuddling?”

“maybe i will,” he replied, his fingers gently massaging your back. “did you know cuddling for 10 minutes releases enough endorphins to improve mood significantly?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, though a smile tugged at your lips. “spencer reid, you are a fucking nerd, and i mean that affectionately. but at least you’re a nerd with good hands.”

he grinned, shifting a little closer. “i’ll take that as a compliment. besides, i think i deserve some credit for that multitasking earlier.”

you laughed, your head resting against his chest. “okay, fine. you did okay. maybe even a little better than okay.”

“a little?” he scoffed, feigning offense. “i think i deserve more than ‘a little better than okay.’”

reid’s expression turned serious, though his eyes were still light and looked at you with affection. “as much as i’d love to bask in compliments, we do have paperwork to finish.”

you sighed, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “i’ll deal with hotch’s scolding in the morning. for now, how about we skip the paperwork and head to my place?” you pouted, pleading with your eyes and held your hands behind your back, feigning innocence as you waited for his response.

reid’s smile softened, clearly charmed by your playful act. “you know, i don’t think i can say no to that.”

you grinned up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “this is exactly why you’re my best friend.”

reid smirked, his arms encircling your waist. “glad i’m still in the running for that title.”

he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back with a fond glint in his eyes. with a shared laugh, he guided you out of the office. as you both made your way to the parking lot, your giggles echoed in the hallway like a couple of a couple of teenagers sneaking out past dark.

⟢

[brandnewvoice]

mean

pairing: jinx x gn!reader - NSFW

summary: after jinx pulled a prank on you that you particularly didn’t like, you find a way to punish her for insulting you.

warnings: no use of y/n or pronouns, 2nd person reader, use of nicknames (toots, baby) dom/top!reader, bottom/sub!jinx, slight degradation kink, little begging, edging, orgasm denial , fingering, pussy slapping/clit slapping, slight dacryphilia, mean!reader :)

author’s note: second ever smut fic lesgoo!!

a tear rolled down her cheek as she squirms underneath you, “c’mon baby, no crying, remember?” you noted, making sure her legs were open wide as your hand striked her throbbing clit again. “fuck-! i- im sorry, i didn’t mean to- shit-“ she babbled desperately, watching your raised hand before it fell onto her pussy again, “you’re not sorry. not even you can believe that, i know it.” you scolded, finger going up and down her slit painfully slow, acknowledging how wet she was, “looks like someone’s enjoying it to.” you observed, watching her contorted face silently beg for any type of pleasure.

you smirked, pulling the hood of her clit up and striking upon it once again. “im not-! and i am sorry, ok?!” she grunted, voice getting hoarse from every scream she let flow every time you delivered a slap to her pussy.

gazing at her cunt’s pretty lips you gently ran your fingers through her folds, sinking two inside of her and listening as she sighed. you started to pound into her, speeding up your movement, “still not buying it. i just know you’re doing this for the sake of getting off, i’m not stupid jinxie.” you spoke, knowing she’s not even close to paying attention, just arching her pretty back and gripping the sheets.

“fuck please- toots i’m so close- just let me cum- this time-“ you abruptly stopped your fingers at her words, frustration and exhaustion flooding her expression as you pulled out and pulled her hood up again, seeing her brace for impact and body jerk at the sensation, tears running down her face and a cry almost as loud as the slap to her pussy.

you sighed in content with your work, turning around from her to go back to folding the clothes, just like you were doing before she pranked you, the thought of the phrase she put into it still making your blood boil.

she let out a loud whine, trying to catch your attention, a pout forming on her face at the fact you didn’t even budge. jinx let out an exasperated sigh, rolling on her side to look at you, noticing you unbothered by her state. “baby, i won’t do that again, i promise.” she spoke quietly.

“that’s great.” you answered dismissively, catching from the corner of your eye as she awaited you to do something.

being met with nothing, she shuffled closer to you, holding your shoulder gently, “im sorry… please, baby…” she whined right by your ear, trying to make herself sound convincing.

you rolled your eyes, sighing as you put the clothes down, “ugh, such a spoiled little thing.” you groaned under your breath, pushing her back down to the bed and plunging your fingers within her with no warning, making her let out a choked out moan.

you held no mercy speeding up as much as you could, curling your fingers and watching her eyes roll back into her skull. “fuck- aHh- thank you thank you toots- so sorry- th- ank yOu-“ jinx blubbered underneath you, mouth agape as she came undone on your fingers, body suddenly relaxing.

pulling out your slick-covered fingers and wiping them off on the bed, you glance at her falling asleep by your side, curling up upon herself.

you let out a small sigh before pulling her closer for her to lay her head on your lap, finishing your task of folding the clothes in the comfortable silence of her breathing.

[leashaoki]

“Just like that baby,” He groans, strong hands guiding your hips up and down on his cock. You watch as he throws his head back, biting his lips to stifle a moan and breathing heavily through his nose to ground himself. The veins in his throat protrude with the tensing of his jaw and he can barely hold back the grunts forming low in his chest.

“Riding me so fucking good,” His voice spurs you on further, the praise going straight to your core as you speed up your movements. He grits his teeth, looking up at you with a display of both inhuman self control and desire swirling in those orbs of his. But still, he needs more. Trying to buck his hips up into you, a desperate attempt for more friction; he practically growls in frustration when he does nothing but interrupt your rhythm. The hands gripping your hips squeeze impossibly tighter, mewling lowly when his pleasure dwindles at the ceasing of your movements.

“Need-“ He’s cut off when your hips find their flow again, sucking the air through his teeth before continuing, “Need more baby, need to fuck you. So fucking bad.”

Holding you up a little so you’re hovering above his lap, he slams up into you to the hilt without warning. A satisfied groan leaves his lips, eyes crossing somewhat before he begins to piston in and out of your tight heat. He almost laughs at the relief that surges through his lust hazed mind, losing all cognitive thought as he fucks you like an animal.

“Fucking god yes,” It’s practically a growl, coming out snarly as he’s hissing through clenched teeth. The man’s appearance is dishevelled, almost unrecognisable from his usual self; hair a messy array, pupils blown wide and a rosy hue staining his cheeks. He brings his lips to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark and murmuring into the tender skin of your throat, “Been thinking about ruining this pretty little pussy of yours all fucking day.”

His relentless pace doesn’t let up, only turning more brutal with every moment that passes. He’s losing himself in every thrust, chasing the high he’s so badly craved after a stressful day at work. It had been almost unbearable, finding himself lost in fantasies of all the ways he could ravage you once he got home to distract himself.

“Ah shit- can feel you-“ A strained gasp escapes him, it’s pitch a little higher than he would’ve liked it to be, “Can feel you clenching around me baby, keep fucking doing that.”

Rutting into you like an animal in heat, he can feel his peak approaching. Hardly able to control himself, he bullies into your pussy so hard and fast that you can do nothing but part your lips in a silent scream. A fucked out, half grin paints his features, brows pulled together in utmost pleasure as he chases his high.

“Mph fuck!” You feel him throbbing inside of you, a string of desperate pants leaving his mouth, “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill my pretty girl up. Ah shit, take it doll, take every fucking drop.” He’s rambling like a mad man, the words leaving his lips as swiftly as his hips fuck up into you. A sinful moan leaves him before he shudders, eyes rolling to the back of head while he pushes his cock as deep as it can go, filling you with his cum while he cries your name.

ꕥ Toji Fushiguro ꕥ Kento Nanami ꕥ Satoru Gojo ꕥ Suguru Geto ꕥ

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Safe and Sound - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Hi, hi! The hotd brain rot is REAL. All I can think about is this beautiful prince above. I'm working on a longer story for him, but in the meantime, enjoy is blurb. This was jointly inspired by a genuine bad dream I had (the brain rot!!), and the Taylor Swift song that was playing when I was writing this at work. Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #7: Safe and Sound

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Jace comforts the reader after they wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Warning: This does not follow the canon, but I do base the nightmare off of real events that have yet to happen in the show. Do not read if you don't want spoilers.

Sweat drenches your brow. Swords clash, arrows whistle through the air, and dragon fire paints the sky orange.

Your heart thuds as you spin around amid the chaos, searching for a green dragon or for a head of dark, curly hair. For any trace of Jace.

An ear-splitting scream rattles the sky, and before you can make sense of what you are seeing, Vermax's body crashes into the water, sending up a raucous wave.

Panic flows through your body. Searching, searching, searching. You need to see any sign that he made it, that he is alive. The water is riotous, making it impossible to figure out where he landed.

You nearly fall to your knees in relief when you see him crawl up onto floating wreckage, injured badly, but still breathing. You know you need to get to him, need to do whatever it takes to get him out of enemy-infested water.

As you move towards the coast, you have no plan in mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an approaching ship, making its way towards Jace. You run, wanting to scream his name, but also not wanting to give away his location.

You reach the shoreline and the water laps at your feet. Jace spots you the moment the approaching ship spots him.

You know he won't be able to get to the shore in time. You wade into the water, watching as he struggles to swim towards you. He's too far away, too weak, and you're not strong enough to pull him back.

The sound of a crossbow trigger pierces through the crash of waves. Jace's eyes widen - looking into yours - as the arrow speeds towards his chest.

"Jace!" you scream.

You tear out of your dream in a cold sweat, waking to your dark bedroom.

Jace wakes when you scream, crying out his name. His eyes adjust too slowly to the darkness, so he grabs for you blindly. He needs to know you're alright, needs to feel your warmth, your pulse. It thunders beneath his thumb as his hand wraps around your wrist.

His eyes finally adjust and he sees you sitting up in bed, your night gown wet with sweat.

"What is it?" he asks, sitting up next to you. "What happened?" He does a quick scan of the room, confirming his first guess. The room is unchanged from the evening before. There is no danger within its walls, just within your head.

You've had another nightmare.

He brushes the hair off your forehead as you put a hand to your pounding heart, clearly coming to the same realization. Jace leans closer and kisses your shoulder gently.

"It was just a dream," he says lowly, his lips still pressed to your skin. You take deep breaths as you try to relax. You have yet to look at him.

"Y/N," he says, "It was just a dream." He tugs on your arm and finally, you look at him. Even in the dark room, he can tell your skin has paled.

"It didn't feel like just a dream," you say. He frowns and rubs soft circles on your back.

This has become your miserable routine. You wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, and he sits next to you, feeling useless to change anything.

"Tell me about it," he says quietly.

"It's the same dream I always have," you say, looking at him sadly, trembling. He pulls you into his arms, holding your shaking hands in his. His gaze focuses on the Valyrian steel ring he put on your finger a year ago. The promises he made to you that day flash in his mind.

"The Battle of the Gullet," he says in response.

"Yes."

"I regret ever telling you about that day," he says with a shake of his head. The movement jostles his hair, and you tuck it behind his ear gently, your hand linger on his face. "I'm fine, Y/N."

"I watched you die."

"What do you see now?" he asks, taking the hand cupping his cheek, pressing a loving kiss to the palm. He moves it down to his bare chest, to the beating heart beneath his warm skin. "I am alive and well."

You continue to frown at him, but your hand presses to his chest. You take a few more deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you say, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him. He shakes his head, his heart hurting that you would ever think that your pain was an inconvenience to him.

"Hey," he says, pulling you into his chest, your tears falling onto his skin. "You don't ever have to be sorry."

"I know that we are safe now. That war is over. But I am still so scared," you say, and on the last word your voice breaks. Jace holds you tighter.

"I know. I am, too, sometimes."

"Really?"

"Really," he says, "You think I don't have nightmares about that day? Or any from the past year."

"You don't ever tell me about them," you say, pulling away to look him in the eye.

"That's because I don't want to worry you," he says, smiling shyly, playing with your hands. "There are memories I have that I wouldn't dream of sharing with you, that I don't want you to carry."

"That doesn't seem fair," you say, "You get to worry about me but I don't get to worry about you?"

"It's hard," he says, his eyes still focused on your hands. "Sometimes I still see the dying dragons. Still remember when I'd look outside and see everything on fire. Still see the war raging."

"But you don't seem like any of it haunts you," you say, leaning in so he'll look at you. He gives you a soft smile, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

"Guess I've gotten good at hiding it."

"Tell me how," you say quietly. He hates that he can hear the longing in your voice. He notices the dark circles under your eyes. How many nights in a row have you woken from your sleep like this?

"I just try to remember everything good that I still have. Vermax is alive. My mother is alive. You are alive," he says. "Safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you say disbelievingly.

"You are, I swear it. I won't let anything happen to you," he says. "Ever again."

"I know," you say, touching his cheek softly. "I love you."

"I love you," he says. He draws you in close and kisses your lips slowly, his movements languid, like he's got all the time in the world. He hopes you feel it. Hopes you realize that this is what the rest of your existence together looks like. No wars, no death, just the pair of you in this room, reminding each other what you fought for.

"Let's get some sleep," he says as he lays the two of you down. He adjusts the sheets around you, keeping you close to his body. You run a hand over his chest, humming softly.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to," you say.

"Just close your eyes," he says, kissing your forehead, feeling the pull of sleep wash over him. "You're alright, Y/N. No one can hurt you or I now."

"Promise?" you ask.

"I do."

"You'll never leave me here alone," you say. It's not a question.

"I'll never let you go," he says, tucking you in tighter. "You and I are safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you mumble. Jace waits a few moments for your breathing to fall into a slow rhythm. When he knows you're asleep he lets himself close his eyes. He vows to himself that he'll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel so scared again. He vows that you'll never feel ashamed to talk to him when you do. And he vows to have more moments like this, with you asleep on his chest, his hand in your hair, and less like the one he jerked out of sleep to.

[hees-mine]

Camboy - L. Heeseung pt.2

Pairing: heeseung X reader!

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing, sex toys, lube.

Genre: 18+, camboy.

WC: 2k+ read full story below⬇️ yall asked and I delivered part two of “camboy” after a year 💀

You are bored scrolling on your phone when a notification drops down on your screen from your favorite streamer, and you tap it immediately.

It felt like Deja vu. He was literally live yesterday, but you weren’t complaining. You could watch him every day, every waking moment of your life, and never get tired.

The app opens, but instead of a live video being displayed like you anticipated, it directs you to private messages, and your face morphs into one of confusion.

Evan Lee: Couldn’t help myself ;)

The text has you re-reading it over and over again. Could it really be that Evan, your favorite streaming/camboy, was messaging you?

You must be dreaming. While your hands shake and your heart pounds, a little text bubble appears on the bottom left of your screen, making your heart beat even faster, if that’s possible.

A video then suddenly appears, with the little play button showing up as the white circle around it loads. Once it's finished, you immediately tap the video, and the sight shocks you, to say the least. You gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand, as quiet moans flow through your phone's speakers.

“Fuck” you hear Evan’s groans while he pumps his cock with the fleshlight you had bought him. He speeds up his pace grunting softly before pulling out of the toy just in time to catch his cum shot. “Shit, fuck yeah” his dick twitches on his stomach, his cum spurting onto his abdomen. “Mmm,” breathing heavily, he swallows till the last of his cum drops from his tip and pools on his tan skin. “Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he laughs breathlessly, dipping his index finger in his cum and then gripping his length and stroking it a few times, spreading it around and coating his dick in the aftermath of his orgasm. Once his dick softens fully, he ends the video.

Blinking blankly at the screen, you finally uncover your mouth, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a truck.

Did he really just send that to you? Before you could even get your hopes up or feel special about receiving a video from him, you assumed he just sent that to all his paid subscribers.

But at least he used the gift you gave him, and you definitely enjoyed it as much as he did.

After pressing send on the video, he cleaned himself up a bit, leaving his phone open in case you replied.

He wore his bottoms, discarding the dirty wipes into his trash bin. “Hmm,” chewing on his lip, he stared at the screen, and there was still no reply. Maybe you were just busy and didn’t see it yet. He turned off his phone, tossing it to the side so he could go shower.

After his shower, he recorded some paid snippets and updated his followers on when his next live will be and what they can look forward to. He checked his phone after about three hours, scrolling through a few notifications. None of them were important, just a few app notifications. He opened the app, streamed, and checked his notifications out of hundreds. None of them were you.

Had you even seen it yet were you at work did you see it and not think anything of it? But you joined his lives and bought him what he assumed was a pretty expensive gift so you must have liked him enough to have your notifications turned on right?

Turning off his phone, he sets it down on his desk. He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous. He literally streamed himself jerking off to hundreds of people, so why was he so anxious about sending a personalized video to you?

After the fourth hour passed, his nerves started to get the best of him, and he messages you again.

Evan Lee: Did you enjoy it, baby?

He sends it before he can overthink that, too.

A reply comes from you quickly this time, which he’s so thankful for.

You: Very much, Evan. I’m sure everyone else did, too ;)

Everyone else? What did you mean by that? Did you show that video to someone else? What?

Evan Lee: What do you mean by everyone?

He decides to ask to clear up the confusion, hoping you didn’t send that video that was meant for you and only for you to someone else.

You: Your subscribers

You responded confused now as well.

Evan Lee: What do you mean? I didn’t send that to everyone, just you as a thank you for, you know, the gift since I liked it so much

His face heats up. He can’t believe he’s actually texting you like this right now. He never thought he’d be interested in one of his followers, but you just seemed to capture his attention even if he was just going by text only.

Yeah, you must be dreaming. Well, at least it was a good dream.

You: “I’m flattered.”

He shifts his attention from his computer now that he’s got you online.

Evan Lee: Good baby, so did you do anything to that video?”

You blushed reading his text.

You: I haven’t 🤭

Evan Lee: Aww baby, you’re making me sad :(

You: Sorry

You reply, not sure what to say.

Evan Lee: I didn’t know you could resist my charm 😏

Truthfully speaking, you couldn’t.

Evan Lee: Since I made myself feel good, why don’t you do the same? After all, I made that video just for you.

Biting on his bottom lip, he sends a risky texts, awaiting your answer.

You: Are you sure?

Evan Lee: Positive baby, go ahead and touch yourself to my video

You: Now?😳

Evan Lee: Of course, sweetheart, why wait?

You: I don’t know

You nervously replied, still at a loss for words. You didn’t even know how this was happening.

Evan Lee: I’ll be here when you come back 😉

You left it at that, your heart racing in your chest as you scroll up and see the video. Your thumb hovers over it as you contemplate playing it without thinking about it too much. You press the play button, his moans filling your ears once again, and you get immersed in the video in seconds. The way he impatiently bucked his hips up into the toy had you wondering what it’d feel like if he fucked into you like that, and you could already feel your body getting warm and your pussy tingling with excitement.

With his words in mind, you slowly slip your hand down to your crotch beneath your blankets, circling your clit to the thought of him.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone together with him at the same time he did in the video.

The video was only about a minute long, but that’s apparently all it took for you to cream around your fingers, your moans mixing with his as your thumb caressed your clit and your fingers pumped inside your dripping hole. “Yes, Evan,” moaning, you throw your head back, sighing in pleasure, and writhing on your bed in the aftermath.

You: Thank you, Evan

You sent attaching a short clip of you pushing your fingers in and out of your wet pulsing hole.

He opened the notification, and now it was his turn to gasp and cover his mouth. “Fuck” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head.

Evan Lee: so wet, baby. Looks like you really enjoyed yourself

You: I did Evan. came so fast, imaging my fingers were your cock instead

You reply boldly.

Evan Lee: you’d like that, huh? Feeling my cock deep inside that little wet pussy

You: Yes, Evan, so bad

Evan Lee: You have no idea, baby. I’d take care of you so well, but for now, that’s all you get 😉

You: evan :(

Evan Lee: Join my stream tonight, and I’ll put on a show for you. I’ll cum just for you. It can be our little secret.

Before you could reply, the live notification popped up a red circle appearing around his profile picture, indicating he is now live.

You tapped it immediately, joining the stream, a faint smile on your lips as his voice greeted all his viewers.

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for joining my stream,” he smiles, waving to the camera as more viewers start to come in. “I had a lot of fun last stream, and apparently, so did you all,” he teasingly smirks, reading through some comments. “Take off my shirt?” He asks with a chuckle. “But I’ve only been live for like two seconds.” A ding goes off on his computer, showing a payment of fifty dollars, along with a message saying, please take it off. “Only cause you said please,” he laughs softly, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. “Happy?” He said, running his fingers through his hair and intentionally flexing his bicep while doing so, giving the camera an innocent look like he was unaware of the subtle tease. “It’s a bit cold now. I wish I had someone to warm me up.” he looks into the camera lens, running his hand down his chest and stopping at the waistband of his pants. “Maybe we could do something together to keep us both warm.”

He slips his hand inside his pants, rubbing over his soft cock giving the viewers what they want. “Would you all like that?” He bites on his lip, leaning back on his chair and spreading his legs, leaving little to the imagination of what he’s doing under his pants. “You’ve been waiting all day for this?” He asks, reading through more comments. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Another donation comes in, along with another message. “Take everything off. Wow, you’re all more impatient than last time,” he laughs, standing up and pulling his trousers down to his ankles before sitting back in his chair, lazily stroking his cock till it grows hard, truth be told, he was a little impatient, too. He couldn’t wait to cum for you. “No one even asked about my day just wanted to jump straight into huh?” He teased and couldn’t help but laugh at the comments now flooding in, asking him about his day. “You guys are so cute, but I’m only teasing, enough about my day. I only wanna focus on you.” he looks at the camera, hand working up and down his hard length. “Bet you’re tired and need to relax. Don’t worry. We can play together and relieve all your stress.” he bucks his hips into his palm at a slow rhythm, looking over comments. “Touch yourself with me,” he whispers.

“You look so perfect.” his eyes don’t fail to catch the comment you left, and immediately, he starts jerking off faster, his toes digging into the carpet beneath his feet. “Fuck, you think I’m perfect?” he bites his bottom lip. “You’re even more perfect.” he throws his head back, hissing as his pace increases, the sound of his fist coming down on his balls with each stroke echoing in his quiet room.

He swallows harshly, veins popping on his forearms as he squeezes his eyes shut. Seconds away from cumming, his hand slows down right when he’s on the brink. His body sinks back into his chair as he lets go of his cock, letting it slap across his abdomen. “Shit” he rests his head on his chair, eyes lidded with arousal.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered to yourself, anticipating the visual of him cumming.

“You were close? So early?” Chuckling at the comments, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “What would the fun be in cumming so soon?” He replied. “We still have the night to ourselves” he takes hold of his cock again, still sensitive from denying his previous orgasm. “Don’t you want to play with me longer?” He says, swiping the precum off his tip and rubbing it on his cock.

The sounds of more donations come in while he’s busy grabbing the bottle of lube you bought for him. He had it on his desk and ready to go.

Popping the cap open, he holds it over his tip, dropping an exaggerated amount of it on, squeezing more and more out till it pools around his full balls. “Feels so good” he starts stroking his sticky cock. The sounds every time he rubs his cock are so loud and lewd.

You squeeze your legs together, wetness flowing from your hole as you watch him touch himself.

“Ahh fuck” The slick glide the lube provides for him feels so good, so wet and sticky he just knows you’d feel even better and wetter. He closed his eyes, the sounds of comments and donations drowning out as he imagined the video you sent him. You were so wet and creamy just for him. “Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good” he fists his cock continuously, your image playing behind his eyelids. “You like that, huh? Taking my big dick deep in that little dripping pussy?” More desperate comments follow, but he’s too busy to read. The only thing he’s concerned with is cumming for you. “You feel so good, so tight and fucking wet,” he groans, stroking his lube-coated shaft. “Fuck, I'm close cum with me, sweetheart. I want to cum together, shit,” he breathes out, his hand moving up and down at a rapid pace, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat and his brows furrowed in pleasure. “That’s it, baby, cream on my dick while I cum in your pretty little pussy fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming” his body shudders as long white thick ropes of pearly cum flow from his tip, coating his hand and leaking down to his full balls. “Oh s-shit baby,” he relaxes back in his chair, succumbing to the pleasure the image of you seared in his brain as cums endlessly.

Breathing heavily, he finally comes to, a breathless chuckle, leaving his lips as he strokes himself through his high. “I came so much,” he says, playing with it, scooping it up and covering his shaft while pumping out the last little dribbles of cum. “I’m still so fucking hard.”

He huffs out a breath, using his clean hand to rub his fingers through his damp hair. “Well….. that was amazing. I hope you all feel as good as I do.”

A multitude of comments come in thanking him, telling him how much they enjoyed the live and to cum again. “As much as I’d like to, I’m a mess” he looks down between his legs there’s a mess of cum and lube.

“Don’t go”

“Please stay.”

The comments of people wanting him to stay on stream were endless, but he had something a little different in mind.

“Next time, I will, I promise. Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I really need to clean up,” he laughs. “Thank you all for coming and for all the donations. I’ll make it up to you all next time. I love you all, goodnight.”

With zero shame he ends the live and instantly goes to your guy's shared chats together, messaging you right away. “Did you like it sweetheart?”

Groaning at his abrupt ending you exit out of the app only to tap the notification from him once it appears.

You: Of course, I just wish I could watch you longer.

He holds his cock that’s still hard and pulsing rubbing it up and down. Just your reply was getting him going again.

Evan Lee: I’m sorry, baby, but I’m still so hard, and I just needed to see you. I was imagining your pretty little pussy the whole time, but that’s not enough. I need more of you. I feel like I’m going to explode.

He types out with shaky hands. He doesn’t know why you’re getting him to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. His body is hot to the touch, he’s dripping sweat, and his balls are full of cum, ready to be released for you and only you.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t even let you reply before he’s requesting a video call with you.

You don’t even get a chance to reply or comprehend what’s happening; all you know is that Evan is calling you, and you were not going to decline his request.

“Hi baby, thank god you answered,” he breathes heavily, pointing the camera straight between his legs. “I’m so hard for you,” he whines, bucking his hips up and fucking the air. “I want you so bad,” he whispers, too horny and out of it to make sense of what’s happening.

“Evan,” you whispered, and the sound went straight to his twitching dick.

“Fuck baby, what’s your name? I wanna moan it when I cum for you” he grabs his cock, jerking it steady, and your breath hitched.

“Y-y-n,” you stutter out at the sight of him. You wish you could feel his dick in every last one of your holes. You needed him just as bad; he had no idea the effects he had on you.

“Y/n fuck, This feels so good,” he moans, stroking his cock. “Do you like it, sweetheart, like when I rub it for you?” He pumps his cock, thrusting his hips wildly.

“Yes, Evan, wish I could rub it for you,” you moan, lowering your hand back into your shorts.

“Oh god,” he sighs. “Me too, y/n.” Whimpering, he squeezed his base tightly and jerked it up and down. “I wanna fuck your pretty pussy so bad, fuck!”

“Oh Evan, I want that to more than anything, wish I could feel your cock stretching out my little pussy” you whine.

“Shit, I’d open you up so good fuck you with this big dick. You’d like it rough, yeah? Want my cock fuckin into you nice and deep and so fucking rough.”

“Yes,” you mewled, rubbing through your wet folds and sticking your fingers deep in your pussy, clenching around your digits as your thumb tickled your clit.

His deep, heavy breaths filled your ears, and he could hear your little whines of pleasure. “Yeah, touch that little cunt for me. Finger that wet fucking hole. Imagine that was me screwing that little pussy, baby” he strains, his heart pumping wildly in his chest, and this was better than any stream session.

“Oh yes, Evan, it feels so good,” you reply while keeping your right hand busy between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know,” he moans. “Wish I could see you. Please let me see you, fuck” he pleads, so horny and out of it he really wants to blame his feral ness on the fact he hasn’t had any in a while, but he knows deep down there’s something about you that’s driving him to his breaking point he feels like he’s going to go crazy.

In your arousal-hazed brain, you turn on your camera showing him your fingers shoved deep in your pussy covered in your wetness.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking pretty. Your pussy is perfect. I wanna suck your fingers clean, eat you out and fuck you so good, so deep, till you're moaning my name.”

“I want that too, so bad, my fingers aren’t enough, need your dick stuffing me full, need all my holes filled by you” You pressed your head into your pillows, leaning back, the warmth of your upcoming orgasm covering you like a blanket.

“Y-yn, I can't help it. I’m gonna cum” his head feels dizzy as he fondles himself. His mind is blank, nothing but the idea of you and cumming for you.

“Me too. I need to feel your cum inside me want you to fuck me full,” you breathe out, lost in pleasure as much as him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you,” he moans softly, his load as big as last time, if not bigger, his cum sprayed all over his abdomen and fist. “Cream on my dick, sweetheart, let go,” his voice sends you spiraling down a never-ending hole of pleasure, and you cum seconds after him screaming his name in pure ecstasy.

“Evan,” you whine his name, both of you sinking back into the comfort of your own beds.

“Y/n,” the only thing either of you can see is the faint pulsating of each other's genitals, the aftermath of everything finally settling in.

Heavy breaths fill up your guy's speakers, and neither of you says a word for a solid minute.

“I- um, I’m sorry for calling so late. I just- you know?” He laughs shyly, turning off his camera.

“N-no, it’s okay. I, too, was, you know?” Following suit, you turn off your camera after him.

Chuckling, he nods even though you can’t see him, and he can’t see you.

“So…. I guess I’ll let you go now,” he hums.

“Y-yeah, I guess so. Umm, goodnight, Evan,” you say, a little reluctant.

“Wait, maybe if you’re not busy, we can call again, not like this but just normally,” he says awkwardly and stands up, grabbing the waist of his pants, pulling them up, and tucking his soft cock away.

“O-oh, okay, that’s fine by me.” You smile from ear to ear at the thought of having a call with him tomorrow. You literally couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like a dream come true, and much like you, he can’t help but smile on the other line.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll call you again tomorrow, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you say teasingly.

“Okay, goodnight, y/n. Thanks for tonight; I really enjoyed it,” he hums softly.

“I should be thanking you.” You both share a small laugh. You can hear the grogginess in his tone, and you’re sure he can hear it in yours as well. “Goodnight, Evan.”

“Bye, y/n,” he chirps, hanging up his phone, and he’s never been happier to be a camboy.

Link to my Patreon!

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[choas232]

G/N Chatty reader x Steb 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Summary: In which you grapple with feelings you don’t yet understand by talking a certain enforcer’s ears off. Forced proximity makes everything worse, as it tends to.

CWs: Profanity. Canon typical violence. Reader has some bias about Zaunites they probably need to work on. I wrote most of this at 10pm at night, so be warned.

No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them are used to refer the reader. Set in episode three, season 2.

Word count: 2.9k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

“God. I’m starving. And tired. I barely slept at allllll last night. Do you think the Grey’s keeping us awake? Our glorious leader Kiramman sure wants it to, dragging us along at this cracking speed. It’s been a whole week, too. I’m gonna drop dead, at this rate.” You lament. Your fellow enforcer does not comment from his place behind you, his footsteps echoing around the pipe.

Graffiti crowds the metal surface, amateur artworks, declarations of love, violence, and scripts you don’t recognise cramming themselves over one another, space sparse and sought after. It’s not Jinx’s work. Still, there’s a chill on your back you choose to attribute to the profanities.

The people of the underground sure know how to decorate, that’s for sure.

You two have been chosen to scout out a fairly low-danger area in search of a Zuanite’s sighting of Jinx. He did say it after a hefty heaping of Grey was funnelled into his lungs and a gun was held to his head, but Caitlyn is paranoid enough to bark at shadows, and you will oblige, if only to keep her happy.

It’s not like any of you are much better. Loris is quieter than ever, Maddie jumps at the smallest sounds and of your companion… you have no idea. You never have. Steb’s inner workings remain a mystery to you.

You turn. “Are we there yet? We should be there soon, right?” Steb nods distantly, more focused on the setting around you.

This part of the pipes is yet to be flooded with grey, so you can see him clearly without the obscuring mask.

His light teal skin, thin lips, nose, sharp, angular features. His neat uniform. His polished posture. He is distinctly and utterly out of place amongst the chaos that surrounds you. His eyes are so blue. So opalescent, shining like pearls in his eye sockets. Is that weird to notice? How much detail is it normal to notice about someone? You should probably stop looking.

His ribbed ears flick back, ever so slightly, eyes flicking to meet yours for a brief moment.

You look away. “Uh.” His eyes. His blue eyes. Blue. “God. I’m sooo hungry. Hah. I haven’t eaten since this morning. The rations are running out, and all the Zaunite stuff Vi is bringing in is uhm, questionable.”

You don’t look behind you again, your mouth moving quicker. Your breath is tight, probably because of the steady stream of words flowing from your mouth. You think. “I would kill for a good sandwich. Or two. I might have to resort to cannibalism—”

Hands enclose around your collar and yank you back with force.

Below you, a human sized-hole lined with rusted, broken metal grating, a slowly, ever spinning fan—

Your heart staggers in your chest like a drunkard. Images of your empaled, scraped, body twisted and pressed beyond recognition cram into your skull, rattle and scream.

“Fuck.” You mumble, quietly. Steb’s hand releases your collar. “C-close one. Thanks. Fish-sticks. How didn’t I see that?” You laugh. He doesn’t. It isn’t funny.

He brushes the shoulder pads of your uniform off, carefully but hastily looking you up and down. He keeps a respectable distance between you, but you can still see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You mimic him. Your mouth feels dry.

He fixes you with a look as his hands drop to his sides, and although his face usually retains some semblance of ambiguity on it, you know exactly what he’s thinking. Watch where you’re going.

“Sorry doc. I…” You trail off. You should stop talking. You probably talk so much around him because he makes you nervous. Why does he make you nervous? Your usual slamming of thoughts trickles dry. You have no idea.

Carefully, you two traverse over the great gaping hole in the pipework. How did you miss it? You don’t sure don’t miss how Steb watches you hawk-like though, and the following guilt is low and prickling in your gut. He goes first, and every small unprompted movement of yours has him stiffening, arm moving to steady you.

“Jeez. Don’t mother hen me, I’m all grown-up, I assure you.” You bat him away, landing with a clang! of the metal against your boots as you leap across the last segment. His frown is resounding.

A corner stretches before you, now. You let him go first with a swing of your arm just in case the metal of the pipe opens up to attempt to swallow you yet again. “All yours,” He obliges.

It’s an open space. Milky green light filters through the roofing, painting the graffiti stained flooring monochromatic and hazy. Two other pipes adjoin to the room, and a mural of Janna clad in white laced with metallic armour bounds over the walls. It looks exactly like what was described, which is worrying, because hey, Jinx!

The sniffling child is even more worrying, though. Looking up, she brushes away dark locks  from her face and bursts into prompt tears. “Please, m-my-my… my leg. it really hurts.” She wails.

Sure enough, one of her legs is crushed under a slab of tin, making itself known as the cause of the light filtering through the roof. “Please. Please.” Snot dribbles down onto her ragged shirt, her big brown eyes blown wide.

Steb is already gone before you can access the situation, bounding over.

Poor kid. You wince, tapping your fingers against your lips. Probably just playing with the ball you see perched nearby when shoddy craftmanship led to tragedy. Still… “Jeez. Think to consider a trap? No? Just me.” You mutter.

“Just you.” The voice from behind you amusedly whispers, and then you feel the cool rim of the gun pressed against your skull.

Fear makes a mockery out of you. Your thoughts accelerate, snapping at each others heels, but you cannot think. You aren’t really the brawlers of the team. He’s the field medic, for fuck’s sake, and while you can handle yourself in a fight this is more of a Vi job. You regret mocking her cuisine choices. This is probably some kind of sick karma. Sick? You feel sick. God, your stomach is writhing, your insides eating each other up.

Steb, still blinded by his tunnel vision, hauls the tin off of the girl. His ears flick down as he peers down at the clean space beneath, clean of blood and gore. Her leg, unblemished and by all means healthy looking, curls back into her body, and then she bursts outwards like a spring, down the nearest tunnel.

Too late, he looks back at you.

“I’m sure they require you topsiders to rattle a few braincells together to wear that fancy uniform. They don’t need allll of them, do they?” The man holding the gun to your head calls out to him. Flesh drips from his arms, lanky and lean, pressing against your neck as he holds you into him. You smell the shimmer on his breath before you see his blood lined eyes.

Steb jerks forwards. Bruisingly, the gun slams into your skull. “Move and their brains go BOOM! Hands in the air. Now.” He snarls, and Steb freezes in place, slowly raising his hands. You can see him breathing, hard, heaving breaths.

More people clamour their way out of vents, behind slabs of wood. You count at least four. Shit.

Shit.

This is bad.

“Woah! Talk about dramatics, huh?” You start, and almost in shock, the man holding you to himself grip loosens. From Steb’s place, you can see the wrinkle that lines his mouth when he gets stressed creep into existence. (That’s normal to remember. You should know when your coworkers get stressed. Part of the job, and all.) He slowly shakes his head. You mouth, trust me. He shakes his head harder. “Maybe we should talk this out? Civilly, tea and biscuits? …No?”

“It stopped being civil when you went for one of mine.”

Of course that guy you beat the shit out of gave you the location of an ambush. He was all too eager to speak, and when you go poking your hand down foxholes, it’s going to get bitten off. You feel both incredibly stupid and incredibly self-satisfied, you knew it, and you went here anyways.

“One of yours? I mean, we probably didn’t mean to? It was probably a mistake—” he shoves the gun down your throat. Spittle drips down the barrel. You taste dirt and gunpowder. You taste the blood leaking from your tongue.

You taste fear.

“Well? Your bag.” He gestures loosely to Steb.

Steb locks eyes with you as he gently tugs the straps off of his back, letting the hefty bag land to the floor with a thump. Carefully, he steps back, raising his hands in the air once again.

One of the hovering goons quickly snatches it, tugging it open. Medical supplies, bottles, all-the-like clatter the ground, but she continues shifting through hastily, eyes slowly narrowing. The last of our food supplies…, you mournfully think, quickly followed by Caitlyn is going to kill us, and she’s probably right to.

“You told us there would be hex tech, you fucking liar.” She drops the bag carelessly, starting towards the man holding you. “Well, do you think I’m some sort of prophet? You knew that it was an estimate.” He snaps back, grip on you loosening, the gun shifting out of your mouth to point towards the soft flesh of your cheek, spreading out your blood clouded spit as it does.

“I think you set us the hell up. You promised we’d split the money, but where’s the money now, huh? I gotta family to feed, hired work is dropping like flies with the chem barons at each other’s throats, which means I missed on any number of begging clients for this shit.”

You get an idea.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

It’s a terrible idea.

Steb tears his gaze from the arguing pair to meet your eyes, perhaps on some precognition of the mistake you are about to make.

You wink, grab the gun pressed to your cheek and then you yank.

It comes as cleanly as expected, the man’s adrenaline rattled, drug loosened reflexes nothing for the shock you give him when you take the gun from his hands, and than run. Surprise gives you the upper hand, yells clouding your soundscape. You still manage to pick out Steb’s footsteps, clean and even behind you as you barrel down the nearest pipe.

You run harder than you’ve ever run, past graffiti, with only your breath, the calls behind you, your heartbeat and the echoes of his and your boots slamming against metal to guide you.

You turn the corner so hard you slam your side against it, feeling your already bruised cheek cry out in pain in time with your yelp, and you stumble. Steb catches your shirt and yanks you right back up, and then you’re in another wide-open space.

Your head swings around, fear hammering around your ribcage like a desperate songbird.

Steb grabs your shoulder, gesturing with his head. You follow his gaze. There’s a smaller pipe in the wall, covered by a draping of torn fabric, and you rush towards it before you have any time to think, the fabric draping over your hair, the surface cool under your fingers.

He follows, your pursuer yells barrelling into your ears as the curtain draws shut.

The space is tight, circular, not even big enough for you to stretch out an arm and not brush the opposite end. Your back is pressed flush against the concrete and plaster. Your legs cage Steb, as do his, looping over one each other, his knee bent at an angle that’s for sure going to hurt later. His arms clutch the walls of the tube, yours resting bent in your lap.

He leans down, and his fingers gently grasp that stupid beret of his and tug it down onto his lap, before he pulls his head back up, his head scraping the roof. He’s a least a head taller than Maddie, and although you’d like to think of yourself as average, you are now grateful for the height you lack.

“OVER HERE!” Did they see you? Is this it? What can you do, two against at least five or so. You mean, counting has never really been your strong suit under pressure, and who’s to tell? Are you going to die? Are you going to die, your legs pressed into his midriff?

The gold smattering across Steb’s undereyes and nose adjoins with the darker turquoise scales lining the cavities his eyeballs are strung into, carving out little gold, blue, orange stripes, like the ones on the fish you and your parents used to gawk at the aquariums had.

Are they going to cart out your body to your parents, after your fellow enforcers find you, crammed into a hole in the underground? What would you had died for?

His eyes are so blue.

He blinks, smooth, deep lapis overtaking the gleaming surface of his eyes before his eyelids do. He has a second eyelid. How did you never notice?

His lips, perpetually downturned as they are, his steady line his eyebrows carve themselves into, his perfect posture, even as you are cramped within the pipe, the smooth, angular frame of his cheekbones all of it make him look like one of those forever uninconvenienced paintings the councillors hang from their mansion walls. He looks calm. His stupid snooty resting face cannot fool you. You know he isn’t.

His lips are parted, the gap between his front teeth visible as he stares down the opening of the tunnel like a loyal family dog. His little giveaway.

Maybe his inner workings aren’t such a mystery, after all.

He makes you nervous. He makes you so nervous. He makes you into a wreck.

You think you might be in love with him.

—and your pursuers are rushing past you, all until you can’t hear their voices and you’re alive. You’re alive and you’ve never been so happy to tomorrow eat shitty Zaunite food and have Caitlyn yell at you for loosing supplies and talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw.

You don’t. Talk. You don’t talk.

He’s looking at you.

You feel like a fool.

You sit there, just looking at him too. His eyelids slip halfway, letting you count the short lashes that frame them. His expression relaxes, loosens, ever so slightly, his arms moving from the wall of the tunnel to his lap.

You could sit here with him for hours, death inches from you both, and you could be happy. You could be suspended in disbelief and plausible deniability; you could allow yourself to lie. Your heart is pounding from the adrenaline, of course. Your face is pink because of overexertion, and you kind of want to kiss him because you’ve never kissed anybody and you may as well as get it over with before you die, right?

He points to his face. You blink, and then he points to yours. You brush your finger cheeks against the flesh and feel the sting of injury, spittle and blood on your fingers. Right.

Right. He’s looking at you because you’re injured right?

Of course he is. (Disappoint is still food, and you swallow it.)

Gently, he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Instead of sparring you and handing it to you, he merely carefully holds your head, one hand on your jaw and the other gently patting down the mess on your cheek. His head is tilted. You feel your heart slam up your throat, a throbbing, horrible pain that lets you part your lips to let the breath escape you before it can choke you.

The hand cradling your jaw moves a careful finger up to brush your lower lip.

Accident, of course. He’s not even looking at them, rather, the mess, taking his sweet time as he does, so very gentle.

You think he might be the danger, not the hell that is the pipework, nor the Grey, nor not the man with the gun

He pulls back, tucking the handkerchief back into the pocket and shallowly inclining his head towards the opening.

With a long look back at you, he crawls out of the hole first. You follow, dizzily. Ever the gentlemen, he offers you a hand as you push your way out of the hell that made you. You take it and feel incredibly guilty for doing so, stumbling to your feet.

He fastens his beret, usually a sign from you to inwardly (or outwardly) mock his silly hat, still watching you. You do not, in fact, mock him. You might be shaking, in fact, and that thought makes you hate yourself more than you could ever despise that ugly navy piece of fabric.

He frowns, and then he gestures to your mouth. You flinch without meaning too. “Huh?”

He mimes speaking, shallowly opening and then hastily closing his mouth

He's right to be concerned.

You haven’t spoken since you two trapped yourselves in the tunnel, after all.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

Notes: Thank you for reading!! :)))) STUPID. IDIOTS IN LOVE. Him under the guise of medical assistance letting himself touch you... bro isn't slick whatsoever. If you have any ideas, be sure to drop them in my ask box, there is lack of fic on him holy hell. As a side note, we all need the comfort after season two part two holy cow…

[ruruumin]

hi!! I came across you and I thought your work is really amazing!! This is my first time asking something like this haha but for everything a first :) I really love figure skating and I was wondering if you could make a oneshot or any headcannons of the reactions of blue lock characters haha (mostly rin nagi and sae)! (sorry if I made some mistakes, English is t my first language)

ice, ice, baby!

₊˚ ᗢ blue lock various x figure skater! reader.

⤷ what kind of relationships rin, sae, and nagi (separate) would be in.

itoshi rin

“if you’re going to do something, do it with your entire heart.”

rin met you when he was only ten years old. you were his next door neighbor with a feverish dream to become the best figure skater in the world. although it may have been one of the loftiest dreams anyone might hear, he believed in you the same way you did for him. and together, he will see you perform all over the country, with him in arms waiting.

so when a cold rainy day comes and the two of you were walking home together under a shared umbrella, he wanted to say something. but you beat him to it. standing in front of your door, you turned around and smiled, saying only two things: i will be leaving to russia tomorrow morning to train with a new coach. 

this first part came as a no brainer to him, of course you would leave. just as sae did a few months ago, you were beginning to flap the wings you were blessed with. however, the second part was what kept him on his toes, heart punching up to his throat: and i love you, rin.

after departing in the morning, he would stay up late to watch your performances on television. even when he had early practice, it was complete habit to see you on screen. your presence on the ice was unmatched by many of your cohorts in russia. cold and calculative, yet free flowing. like a confident stream you graced the fields with a polished play. alongside a perfectly timed quad axel, it placed you right at the top of the world.

the ultimate power couple. when you’re at the kiss and cry, you’ll say his name to the camera before blowing a kiss. meanwhile, whenever he scores a goal, he’ll raise his fist in a catching motion, bringing it up to his lips as he hides his faint smile behind his hand. your performances will always be dedicated to each other and it drives the press mad (rightfully so). 

when you return to japan, he’s the first person that you see at the airport. in only a matter of seconds, with his extremely long legs and speed, he is wrapping his arms around you tightly, inhaling your scent as he lays his head on your shoulder. 

he would immediately take you back to all your favorite places. during your time away, he had taken a multitude of pictures and sent you dozens of instagram reels of cafes. now that you were here in his arms, it made going to them all the more real (or maybe not, with you sitting in front of him, enjoying a mont blanc and latte, it feels like the perfect dream). 

sleeping in the same bed as him had never felt any better. while you knew him to be a drooler, you would have never expected him to be clingier than a koala. he is keeping you flushed against his chest the entire night. if you think about getting water, he will follow you with arms tangled with yours. 

itoshi sae

“i’ll carve my name into ice while you all watch in awe.” 

the only other person with the same amount of arrogance as him was you, a rebellious teenager he found on the streets of spain. you tried to pickpocket him on his first day in the country. instead of reporting you to the police, he asked you one simple question that changed the trajectory of your life: if you had the chance to do anything, what would it be?

some people viewed you as a lost cause in the figure skating world. having started extremely late compared to your other peers, your name was rubbish and caked in dirt. however, it never stopped sae from coming to see you after every practice, watching as you practiced your spins and salchows underneath the dim lights of the arena with a coach he’d hired. to him, you were a diamond in the rough that just needed a push.

he didn’t think much about your relationship until it was late at night. you were walking back with him to a hotel, face covered with masks to avoid intruding paparazzi. it started off with small talk, like family and friends (you learned he had a very cocky but sweet brother back in japan), but it quickly diverged into something more intimate that had the two of you walking into his room with intertwined pinkies.

when it came time to perform in the qualifying rounds, you had plunged the stadium with wails and tears. overcoming the country’s beloved skater by a wide margin, you stood above everyone, head raised high as you pointed up to the cameras, hardening your gaze as you mouthed sae’s name. you must have known he was watching from the corners of the locker room. 

the world of figure skating was going to change with you, a new generation skater that rose from nothing. 

sae feels immense pride when it comes with you. even though there were many curve balls thrown in your direction, whether it be from bad press or his persistent fanbase, the smile you hid beneath the covers reassured him that you were going to stick it out. nothing in the world could compare to the happiness you felt when you were with sae. because with him, you knew you could do anything.

dates typically consist of fancy meals or sightseeing trips. he isn’t particularly drawn to these activities himself, but what motivates him is the thought of treating you to something new. whether it be a pretty dessert from down the street that costed an arm and a leg, or seeing the stars as you walk along the beach, he’ll dedicate a huge chunk of his income to letting you see the world in its fullest.

matching photocards on the back of your phone cases. sae uses a clear one so he can flip his phone around and stare at you before every game. while some think he’s admiring your smile (as beautiful as it is), he’s actually sees you as the perfect rival to his games. although you were both in different sports, the two of you constantly pushed each other to your limits, showing the world what it means to be the very best. 

nagi seishiro

“there is no point in anything if you aren’t going to have fun.” 

he wasn’t interested in figure skating until he came across one of your performances on youtube. it was really early into middle school when he started watching you. one of the reasons why he started was because you skated to a lot of his favorite songs from video games he liked. the second reason was because you looked like you were having fun. 

unlike most figure skaters he’s seen, you made the sport look enjoyable (he thinks everyone else looks extremely constipated when they’re too focused). with a beautifully confident smile, you danced across the ice, performing triple axels and a perfect biellmann spin. you skated as if you truly loved this sport, and this was the selling point for him (maybe this is when he started to be called a certified fanboy).

when he arrived to blue lock, the first thing he wanted to win back was his phone so he could keep up with your recent uploads. even when you aren’t posting something figure skating related, your miniature q&a sessions were entertaining enough to keep him awake for the rest of the night, much to reo’s dismay (he wanted to sleep early for once).

the best thing reo had gifted him were a pair of tickets to see you perform at one of the biggest skating rinks in the country. nagi was almost shaking in his seat in excitement, eyes wider than saucers when you stepped into the arena with the prettiest outfit known to man. you blew kisses and waved to the audience, giving them your signature smile. you suddenly stopped in your tracks to deliver a long kiss in nagi’s direction, something that sent him into an early cardiac arrest.

your relationship with him blossoms after seeing him at the local convenience store. the two of you had awkwardly reached for the same cup noodle. even though you were dressed in a simple, oversized black hoodie and a mask that hid half of your face, he easily recognized you by the sound of your voice. nagi’s phone would have dropped to the ground if it wasn’t for you catching it midway. when the screen lights up with a picture of you as his wallpaper, you smile and type in your number, throwing his phone back to him as you take the cup noodle and leave.

you and him would text consistently. after every practice he would immediately rush over to his phone to see if you had left any messages. expect a lot of back and forth photos. nagi’s pictures consisting of things he saw that reminded him of you while you sent him photos of yourself at practice or a recent choreograph. 

imagine how shocked your youtube fanbase is when you show up with your 6’3 boyfriend who barely shows up on camera because hes too tall for your tripod. you’re teaching him how to ice skate and although he started as a wobbly giraffe, he easily picked up a lot of tricks. he might not be the best at doing jumps but his footwork was impeccable (you like to tease him about switching careers but he lazily replies with his face in your shoulder about how much work it’ll be). 

[nanqmies]

Dainty | Boothill

cw: really bad southern slang, slight bondage, overstimulation, facial, he eats you out, praise, creampie, exhibition cause you’re outside, reader is kinda spoiled and annoying, consent isn’t verbally stated but it is consensual, hitting it raw, biting + marking, oral, brat taming, porn with plot and i think thats all?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i finally have motivation again.. it took months but my brain is flowing with ideas!!!! please enjoy my work!~

nsfw under the cut~

God-fucking-dammit. One second you're relaxing in the comfort of your penthouse, gazing out the window as music lowly plays in the background. The next your mother is kicking you out the house for a "wake up call" throwing a bag of necessities out next to you on the street, calling you spoilt and ungrateful for not appreciating the things she and your father have done for you. Sending you out to this dirty old countryside with no buildings, no people, and no service for miles! Seriously? She must be crazy! What about college? Your friends?? Even your butler bids you goodbye when dropping you at some stupid rusted bench in the middle of nowhere. Powering your phone on and raising it high in the air, desperately trying to get some bars to call an uber, groaning in annoyance when your phone overheats and shuts down.

How long has it been since you got here? Sweat coats your forehead causing your hair to stick uncomfortably to your skin, begrudgingly dragging your luggage behind you. Your mouth is dry from dehydration, stomach rumbling for a crumb of food on your plate. It feels like you've been walking along this dirt path for a lifetime. Fortunately your efforts have paid off, finding a small inn, the first building in the miles of grassy fields and farmland. Maybe god truly was on your side! Moving your aching legs to the double doors of the inn, pushing it open and begging the owner for a room to stay. Digging through your wallet and slamming a few hundreds on the front desk, the man behind counts the crinkled bills and leads you to through the halls. Unlocking the last uninhabited room with the key to reveal the ratty and unkempt space, the dim lamp flickering on and off, unexplainable stains on the sheets of the bed with musty smell emitting from the room.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, there... there's no way this room is $200 a night... Glancing over at the owner, you notice the gold tooth in his mouth shimmering while he grins,, as if he expects you to sleep in some dingy place like this?? You turn around and rush out the doors as quickly as possible, there's absolutely no way in hell you're sleeping in that room... Speeding out on the dirt road and falling to your knees, stress, exhaustion and hunger overwhelms your body. How could you possibly survive in a horrid place like this? No butlers, no phone, no air conditioning, this has to be abuse right?! Laughing hysterically at the absurdity of your situation.

You don't know how long you’re sat there until the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts, looking up you see him. A tall man with slightly tanned skin, long white hair adorned with black accents, covered by a dark gray cowboy hat. He wore a cropped jacket with a scarf hanging down the back with tight black slacks that flared out at the ends. A belt around his waist with a holster and a stack of bullets on the hips

"Ain't yer ma' tell you it's rude to ignore someone when they're talkin' to ya?" the strong southern accent snaps you back to reality, brows furrowing at the man when you shakily stand on your sore.. sore feet.

"What's some city boy doing round ere' this time of day.?" The man persists in his questioning, an annoyed look plays on your face. "I was kicked out, sent away, whatever you'd prefer to call it. For some stupid wake up call." -"| see.. kicked out by yer folks? Nowhere to stay?" His brow rises in curiosity, how amusing.. Some spoilt city boy hauling his luggage around like some sort of idiot, it was painfully obvious to him that you weren't from these parts.. You stomp your foot in annoyance trying to power your phone on but alas it stays black, the screen hot to the touch.

"Ugh! Can my butler just pick me up! The only place to stay is that damned inn." Before you're able to complain you're interrupted by a loud laugh, the cowboy wiping his eye with a chuckle, revealing his sharp toothed smile.

"Aren't you cute.. Ain't no butlers round ere' to save you dainty boy." His words immediately ticked you off, crossing your arms over your chest with a glare. Is he really laughing at your expense? "Dainty boy? Is that supposed to be a joke?" You were now clearly irritated, raising a brow at his laughter, he smiles and tilts his hat down. "Just an observation sweetheart." clearing his throat to try and calm his chuckles. "Tch.. You think you're better than me cause you're from the countryside?" You lean on your luggage for support, you were already exhausted from the scorching heat and long journey his annoying attitude wasn't making it any better. Snickering a bit he decides to indulge in your bad mood a bit more..

"Better than you? Course not.." he takes a step towards you.

"Fancy little electronics and butlers.. so fudging clean and proper.. Ain't never gotten dirty in yer life.." he takes his last step directly in front of you. Leaned over to your shorter height, casting a shadow over you. You swallow thickly, sensing danger in those dark eyes of his. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself composed, the close proximity making it difficult.

"And what's wrong with being clean and proper huh?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady, "Who wants to be sweaty and dirty like you?" challenging his tone. You expect him to back off but he does the opposite, laughing lowly at you. A raspy one at that. Tilting his hat down and running his tongue over his cracked lips..

"Ain't that right.. Boys like you are my favorite."

You can't even question what he meant by that statement because he stands to his full height and glances over at you, immediately asking another question.

"Anywho.. You got nowhere to stay right?" You're caught off guard but nod reluctantly, "I don't.. but I'm sure your place isn't any better than that dirty old inn." Responding with a scoff, his eyes narrow slightly, a twitch in his smile that's barely noticeable. Scoffing, he drags you along to his horse, helping you get on as it rides through the fields with long gallops. You hold onto his waist, terrified to fall off the moving creature. On the way to his farm he shares his name.. Boothill.. he tells you, giving him your own in return. Conversation flies by easy with Boothill, listening to you complain about your parents and the boring countryside they left you in. Only answering with a nod or a hum, as easy as the conversation flows by you can't help but feel a bit uneasy around him. Not mentioning family or friends or anything about his personal life, barely knowing a lick about him while he knows your life story.

After about an hour the horse stops at the large farm buildings, a stable for horses and a small batch of chickens and a few cows grazing in the fields. It's oddly.. nice? You trip slightly off the horse, looking at the perimeter of the place. Boothill leads you into his farmhouse, a comforting look you didn't expect. Warm and nicely decorated, cinnamon candles burning a pleasant scent around the house. Grinning at your awed expression, "Is it old and dirty like that inn?" He taunts you, a cocky tone in his words. Sighing in defeat you shake your head no and roll your eyes. Like the gentleman he is he brings your luggage upstairs, touring the house. Boothill nudges the door of the guest bedroom open, dropping your belongings on the bed. And lord he was right,, it was so much better than that stupid inn! Relishing in the feeling of soft sheets under you, Boothill grins once more at the sight.

"Well now.. better rest yer aching bones.. cause tomorrow.. yer working for me." Immediately you shoot up from bed, confusion clear on your face.. WORK? What does he mean work?? He can tell by your expression that you're awfully surprised. "Hm? You didn't think i'd let you stay for free didya?" He wishes you goodnight but not before mentioning you'll "need it' for tomorrow.. Whatever that means..

Waking up with breakfast isn't what you expected, wearing a pair of thin jean shorts and a tank top. Boothill looks over his shoulder when you finally awaken, "Ah.. Rise n shine sleepin' beauty.." he hums cooking, flipping the pancake in the pan. You sit at the table and wait for him to finish breakfast, looking around for a while. He ends up breaking the silence with an odd ask, "Do you like rope city boy?" You were rather confused by this, eyebrows furrowed. "Rope..? Why do you ask?" The kitchen falls quiet for a few long seconds, "Just askin’.."

After breakfast you're led outside, he tells you the tasks you're assigned with:

Feed the animals

Plant and water the crops

Time passes with the tasks you're forced to complete, he's sick of moans and complaints about the hot weather, the sun being too bright and the work being too hard. Boothill feels throbbing in his temple, jesus you're annoying. Bratty, loud and ungrateful. Has nobody shown you anything about respect? Clearly he'd have to be the one to smack some manners into you..

.

.

.

"God.. always complaining about something huh." Boothill mumbles as he ties the coarse rope over your thighs, keeping them tightly together. Moving up to do the same with your wrists. He watches with a sharp eye, you're sprawled out underneath him in the grass unable to squirm away from his grasp. "I 'ought to force the brat outta'ya myself." Boothill bends you over and forces your head into the grass, yanking down the flimsy fabric of those shorts of yours down to your thighs. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight, completely bare underneath such thin shorts.

Easy Access..

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes darlin." gripping your hips tightly and spreading you open, impatiently kissing over your thighs..

Carnal desire burning inside his chest as his lips part eagerly to run his tongue over your tight rim, plunging his tongue in with such intensity it sent shivers down your spine. Tongue lapping down to your cock then back up, hand tightening around your throbbing shaft as he pulls the skin back to start stroking you. The euphoric sensation becoming overwhelming as he continues, it's so difficult to ignore the hot feeling of him prodding inside, spreading you open like never before. Hands clenching and writhing against the rope tightened over your delicate skin, pitiful mewls slipping through your lips.

"A-Ahn..! hmn~ don't! not there..-" A boyish yelp coming out when Boothill's hand struck down on the flesh of your ass. "Yer so goshdarn prissy.." he mumbles against your skin, fastening the pace of his hand on your dick. Unable to stop the way his tongue goes from running along the outside to fully thrusting his tongue inside. "Not letting a man finish his work.." he hums while you shake underneath him eyes rolling back when you finish, coating his hand in white. Murmuring in amusement not bothering to cover his laugh.

"Well color me surprised. ain't ever seen such an eager thing.." kissing up your back whilst he pulls your shirt off, forcing you down further into the grass. He unzips his slacks to free his hardened cock, spitting on his hand to lubricate his shaft. Lining himself up with your sex and slowly pushing in, teeth clenching when his cock stretches you open with a mix of pain and pleasure. "H-Hahh…. i-it won't-fuck.. fit..!"

Tears streaming down the apples of your cheeks, Boothill knits his fingers into your hair. Rocking his hips back and forth with a slow pace, getting you used to his large size. "Look at you.. whining all over me..ain't that sweet darlin!." he drawls into your ear, body on top of yours fucking into you. His pace quickening with his intense assault on your body, sharp teeth biting into his lips. Groaning loudly at the feeling of you squeezing him tightly, the sounds of your angelic cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. "Hnng..! I-Its ah.. s-so good.. jesus.." mumbling incoherently when your hips move against him for more, a creamy ring of white circling the base of his cock. "Ah.. hmn.. god..! Yer squeezin' me like a virgin." he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder blade, causing the skin to break and bleed.

Trying to hold on to anything but to no prevail, arms tied behind your back. "Cause. am a virgin~!" Slurred words constantly fall from your mouth, Boothill only put haste in his thrust, desperate to fuck the attitude outta you and make you his. "Hm..? Must be why yer so gosh darn sensitive... haven't even started yet." Suddenly you're pulled up, back against his chest. The warmth, the closeness overwhelming your senses.. The full feeling of his girth tearing you open to places your measly fingers could only imagine reaching. Maybe he should be more gentle with a dainty thing like you, roughing you up burns an insatiable fire inside him. Once perfectly smooth skin now bruised, bitten, marked and covered in rope burns. But who would he be not to test your limits? Folding you in half to rut his fat tip against your sweet spot, eyes rolling back to see the stars above.. How you beg him to slow down, be more gentle but your body saying the complete opposite, cumming time and time again, thin fluid splattered over your abdomen and chest..

"Absolutely ravishin'..." Boothill groaned into your ear. Pumping his next load inside, the excess of the last trickling down the base of his cock. You can take another can't you? Don't disappoint him, with all that snark and backtalk you must be able to back it up.. Boothill pulls out your warmth, watching his seed overflow and drip down your thighs. You groan and move your head up to look at him as he unties you, exhausted by the intense session. Sweat coating your skin and marks over your shoulders. "Now.. isn't it rude not to clean up the mess you made?" Leaning down and whispering into your ear, taking his hat off and placing it on you instead. You swallow thickly and shakily sit on your knees, enamored at the size of it compared to your hand. Just like he asked, you kindly clean off the excess.. using your hands for the parts your mouth cannot reach. As he grows close he pulls you off and strokes himself quickly, panting and groaning under his breath. "Yea.. look up at me.. just like that sweetheart." cooing at you, with a grunt he finishes over your face. A soft smile playing on his lips.

"Ain't that a sight for sore eyes.."

Boothill picks you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, entering back into the farmhouse and kicking the door shut. You'll love your time here at his farm, he's sure you'll be back.

@nanqmies © 2024

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

[wndaswife]

saving room for dessert | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Dinner with the new neighbours sets you on edge due to the repeated subtle passes made at your wife. You reestablish your ownership over Wanda in the kitchen while your guests wait for dessert in the dining room.

Word count: 6864

Tags | MDNI: smut, domestic fluff, humour, jealousy, possessiveness, reader has a penis, handjobs, brief thigh fucking, daddy kink, degradation, but way more praise, what is the word for almost getting caught fucking in the room beside the dinner guests??, sub!wanda maximoff

A/N: the corny alliteration of vision and virginia's name was not my doing it is based on his comic series ndskjfnkjfn

The town of Westview was a rather quiet one, though both you and your wife really loved the neighbourhood community, for it was friendly and close-knit. When you first moved into Westview together, it was because Wanda’s job had relocated her to somewhere further than where you had previously lived, and close to the charming town that was alike to the kind you had always talked about living in together.

Both of you were delighted to find that the people of Westview were welcoming and kind, and that there were frequently tourists that made the small town buzz with life, for Westview’s small-town charm along with its infamous preservation of its older architecture and landscape was a sight that many of those from the more bustling areas of New Jersey enjoyed visiting.

Though Westview had a tightly-knit community and a steady flow of cheerful tourists, it was rather uncommon for the small town to get new people moving in, so when one of the new neighbours ended up working alongside Wanda, the two of you were rather eager to get to know them — a long-time married couple with two children who’d graduated from college and were now living elsewhere.

After about two weeks of scheduling between the four of you, dinner that had long been spoken about was finally happening at yours and Wanda’s. 

You were looking forward to it, for Wanda spoke quite highly of the wife, who she described as an extremely kind and funny woman. You had spoken with her a few times too, but only by chance like under casual circumstances when you were bringing in groceries with Wanda and she was out gardening. 

Additionally, Virginia, the wife, lived in Russia until she was eight, and though Wanda was Sokovian, the two were able to initially enjoy discussing their Slavic similarities in culture and dialect until they became closer, chatting casually about things from their spouses to Westview. Eventually, conversation led up to Wanda inviting Virginia and her husband, Vision, over for dinner. 

You were looking forward to it, and though Wanda was looking forward to dinner with the neighbours too, she also enjoyed hosting and cooking, and so the kitchen was busy and smelling wonderfully for the last little while as you cooked together. 

Mostly, it was Wanda who took the lead with cooking, but since being married, her talents had rubbed off on you; you could now dice onions at perhaps two-thirds of the speed she could, and Wanda also always says you’re good at cleaning up after her while she cooks.

But also, you really just loved doing things like this with her, when you could just talk about anything, just the two of you, while doing things you could only dream about when the two of you were still only dating, living in a place together that you could also only dream about back then. 

You wrapped your arm around your wife’s waist once she slid the potato dauphinoise into the oven and shut it, pulling her into your body and kissing her forehead. “I love you,” you uttered into her warm skin. 

She held your chin in her hand and angled your face to hers so she was able to kiss your lips. “I love you too,” she replied, smiling sweetly at you. 

Your guests were five minutes early, perhaps to make a good impression, for they could have been exactly on time if they so preferred seeing as though they lived right next door. 

It was you who opened the door as Wanda was finishing up a few things in the kitchen, ensuring the cheesecake you had made earlier was comfortably sitting in the fridge waiting until it was time to serve dessert.

Also, she thought it’d be a good impression for you to greet them first, since you’d yet to meet either of them officially.

Cheesecake was actually your signature greatest achievement in the kitchen aside from nearly — not nearly at all, really, but you like to boast — keeping up Wanda’s onion-chopping. You’d taken the cheesecake recipe from a cookbook, and it was Wanda who adjusted most of the measurements and changed some of the ingredients, but it was you who could make it perfectly.

Well, Wanda could make it perfectly too, and probably better, but she never tried; she liked the way you made it, and gave you recipe credit though it was her who really reconstructed it to be what it tasted like now. But she always says that it was you who found the original recipe, at the end of the day.

Not that any of that would matter to your guests, and maybe it might be a story told over dinner if the topic came up, but it mattered plenty to you and Wanda; you wanted to concoct a special dinner together, preparing dishes with special meaning. Though some of said meanings were not as profound in their history as the cheesecake’s, like how Wanda lathered the dinner rolls in butter a second time halfway through because you liked when the top of the rolls weren’t completely dry by the time they were finished baking.

In any case, the intention was to host a dinner that was friendly and warm, and so the dinner spread was selected with intention.

“Hi,” you greeted with a smile, waving a bit awkwardly for no reason at all before ushering them into the foyer and closing the front door behind them. “You must be Virginia — I’ve heard lots about you from Wanda.”

The woman, slightly taller than you and with smooth, soft looking dark hair that ended at the mid-way point of her slender neck, beamed at you as she stepped into the house, her husband following behind her. She took your hand with both of hers, warm fingers caressing your hand gently. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve also heard quite a bit about you from Wanda,” she said, eyes crinkling at their edges as she smiled.

She gestured to her husband, a clean-shaved blonde man with aviators, slightly shorter than his wife but still a bit taller than you. “This is my husband, Vision,” she introduced. “I don’t believe even Wanda’s yet met his acquaintance.”

It was when Vision shifted the lidded ceramic bowl into his other hand to free one in order to shake your hand that you realised he was carrying something. You shook his hand with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said cordially and with a smile.

“Virginia!” Wanda cheerfully greeted as she walked into the foyer, hair fixed up and now without her cooking apron on. They exchanged a hug and Virginia kissed her cheek before introducing Wanda to her husband.

“Thank you for having us,” Virginia said appreciatively. “We’re both thrilled to finally get to know both of you better.”

Wanda replied, sharing a tenderness with Virginia within their met eyes, “You’re very welcome. Y/N and I have been looking forward to tonight all week.”

“Oh,” you interjected softly, realising Vision was still holding his ceramic bowl. “I’m so sorry, let me take this into the dining room for you.”

“In fact, I’ll also take the both of you into the dining room too,” Wanda added lightheartedly. “Let’s get out of the foyer. You can set your shoes down anywhere by the door, and the coat rack’s right here.”

Once wine had been poured and everyone’s plates were served the dinner you and Wanda had made together — pomegranate-brined chicken with white balsamic charred peach, potato dauphinoise, and a medley of some vegetables — you each sat at the dining room table, enjoying your dinner together.

There was conversation about how wonderfully everything tasted, and you were sure to credit Wanda with taking charge in the kitchen, allowing her to talk a little bit about how she prepared the meal and delving into details the couple asked her about, like how she had made the potato dauphinoise so creamy. 

You began to truly enjoy their company for how much they were complimenting your wife.

Until there was Vision’s, You’re a gorgeous woman who can put together an equally as gorgeous dinner spread — Y/N’s hit the jackpot.

“Dinner couldn’t have been done without Y/N,” Wanda assured and then looked at you with a proud smile mostly meant for your eyes, but you weren’t paying as much attention to her as you were scrutinising Vision’s body language after his comment.

It wasn’t… inherently malicious.

But there was something implicative in his wording that made you slightly sceptical of him.

Perhaps in an attempt to… Well, you actually weren’t entirely sure what Virginia was attempting to do when she lightly corrected, “Both Y/N and Wanda have hit the jackpot finding each other. You two seem so perfect for each other. Not to mention, if I might be so blunt, you’re a rather attractive couple.”

Wanda laughed, but in the way she regarded Virginia’s expression for just an additional moment before looking back down to her plate to respond with something humble and bashful, you knew she was also curious about the other couple’s compliments.

“I moved the wine around!” you tried, intentionally poorly, to call after Wanda when conversation came around to discussing the different wines you had, resulting in Wanda leaving to go get one the opposite couple loved. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t believe I’ve yet told her how I reorganised down there.”

As you headed down the hallway, you inhaled and exhaled thoroughly to untie the uneasy kink in your stomach, sure to keep your shoulders still so your tenseness wasn’t obvious to your guests who could still see your back until you headed downstairs to where the wine was kept, for their comments hadn’t stopped since the first time.

Wanda looked over her shoulder at you when you descended the stairs and she straightened from looking around at the selection. “Baby, do we still have the Pinot Grigio they were asking about?” she asked, hands on her hips as she leaned back a bit and ran her eyes over the selection on the wall in front of her.

“Are they swingers or something?” you asked as you approached, placing a hand atop Wanda’s hand on her hip as you reached around her and took the white from the wall to her left.

“Oh, you moved them,” Wanda noted, thanking you when you handed it to her. 

You stood beside her in front of the wine rack and repeated your question, looking up at the closed basement door before asking again. “Are they swingers?”

“What?” Wanda looked up from surveying the wine, looking confused. “What are swingers?” 

Clarifying, you replied, “Couples who sleep with other couples.”

“Them?” she asked incredulously and laughed. You took that as a ‘no,’ then looked over at the basement door curiously as if you could see them through it, ruminating over their comments. Then Wanda was silent and unmoving and you looked at her as she was tapping her fingers against the glass of wine, seemingly in deep thought of her own. “Well… Come to think of it…”

“Wanda!” you hissed. “You invited swingers over to our place for dinner!”

“I didn’t know!” she answered. “I just thought… Virginia talks about her sex life often and I suppose there are some times that she’s alluded to… to swinging about with other couples—”

“It sounds weird when you use that term like that — just say sleeping with,” you interrupted.

Your wife gave you a look and you cracked a tiny amused smile before she continued. “Anyway, yes, I suppose they’re swingers. I didn’t know!”

With your arms crossed, you tapped your fingers against your upper arm in thought, and Wanda supposed you were thinking of how to converse with them now that you both knew they were swingers. But instead you asked hesitantly, meeting Wanda’s eyes, “Are you… interested in that?”

Wanda scoffed. “Y/N, no. Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. You surveyed her face for a moment longer and she fully turned her body to face you. “You really think I want to sleep with other couples?”

“No, I don’t, but we’ve never had the conversation before, so it’s possible that you’ve had it on your mind before, even in passing.”

She assured, “I do not want to sleep with anyone else but you.” It was almost funny to hear those words come out of her if you thought about it with no context, but context given, it was really a relief to you. “I’m entirely satisfied with only us, and the thought of being with anyone else disturbs me greatly. I’m not offended that you asked just to make sure, but the idea of being with another couple, or anyone but you, has never been anything that I’ve entertained. Y/N, I didn’t even know what swinging was until a moment ago.”

“Okay?” she checked in, her voice soft, letting her other hand with the wine hang by her hip while she stepped towards you and cupped your cheek with a warm hand. “I really didn’t know — and not even subconsciously, if you’re thinking that.”

“Okay,” you confirmed and smiled at her, causing Wanda to smile at you in response. She leaned forward and kissed you.

When she pulled away, she met your eyes and your chest warmed when Wanda’s smile crinkled the sides of her eyes. Her thumb rubbed against your chin adoringly. “I’m unsure how we ought to go about signalling a lack of interest in having sex with them,” she told you.

“Just a lack of reciprocation, maybe?” you suggested, and at that, you perked up at the recollection of their commentary that you now knew was flirtatious. “Wanda, if Vision calls you gorgeous one more time, I’ll fuck you over the dining table monogamously in front of them — I’m serious. It’s driving me crazy. He’s right, but to know they’re both just thinking of how much more gorgeous you’d be if we were all having sex is rather startling.”

It wasn’t that they weren’t making subtle passes at you too, but since Wanda was far more communicative and talkative, it was natural that their efforts to become closer circulated your wife far more than it did you.

Wanda laughed and pushed at your shoulder playfully, her head thrown back slightly. “You’re such a freak,” she said. She took your hand and you headed out of the basement together. “It’s okay. Now that we’ve spoken about it together, I’m sure it’ll be much less awkward since we know they’re swingers. It likely won’t be a problem until they bring it up, and then we can clarify that we’re not interested.”

The plan was more than simple, but it failed to consider how agitated you were becoming, little comments now seeming much larger now that their intentions were clarified between you and your wife. 

It was things from Virginia noting how you seemed to be the one to ‘take charge’ in the marriage, to asking outright how often the two of you had sex, about children and the possibility of them, and plenty of other things that were likely of no consequence but seemed irritating to you because you were simply irritated. 

Mostly, it was Virginia’s comments that were permitted to be slightly more vulgar as it was she who asked about yours and Wanda’s sex life, for she was now more than only work friends with your wife, and she’d shared much about her own intimate tendencies with Vision before. 

The conversations about sex weren’t crude, and mostly they were merely jokes, but knowing the intentionality behind them now made them far more than that.

But it was about more than references to sex; there were comments made about how both you and Wanda were such a perfect couple, how well you worked together and how kind you were — observations upon observations about how you and Wanda were within your marriage.

It seemed they had standards, at least.

And truly, Virginia and Vision were kind people and you would thoroughly enjoy having them as neighbours as soon as it was made clear that you and Wanda weren’t interested in sleeping with them.

What irritated you wasn’t necessarily all about them and their commentary, for they knew not that you and Wanda weren’t interested, and anyways, if Virginia had been alluding to being a swinger along with her husband on several occasions, this dinner might very well be interpreted by them as interest.

So you didn’t necessarily dislike them.

It was all true that you and Wanda made a wonderful pair and that Wanda was gentle and so generous, and that she was beautiful and all the things that had been said about her tonight. 

She was very funny too when she wanted to be, and had great taste in movies and all her clothes always sat so well on her shoulders, and her hair was always so soft and the crook of her neck was always very warm, and her fingers were gentle and curious when she had them wrapped around you, and she was so delicate when she slept, and her elbows were a nice shape, though you don’t think you ever told her what you thought about her elbows — all this Virginia and Vision didn’t know, but for whatever reason, you thought so much about it all.

And for another inexplicable reason, it was rather related to how irritated you were.

“Y/N and I have been married for two and a half-ish years now,” Wanda said in response to a question you weren’t listening to, placing her hand on your thigh. You looked over at her and she smiled at you sweetly. 

You’d only said a few things in the last few minutes, little comments and visible reactions to show that you were engaged in the conversation, but nothing majorly contributory. You looked to the side in brief thought then said, “Two years and… seven months.” 

With a second more to think, you also added, “Three days.”

Wanda thought that was funny, but also sweet, and her smile widened, perking up her ears slightly as her smile grew. She squeezed your knee and pulled her hand away to take a sip of wine. “Indeed — two years, eight months, and three days.”

“If we feel so inclined to place trust in my math,” you joked modestly.

You watched as Wanda conversed further with your guests, watching the way she laughed and how she looked over at you often to see your reactions to things or to just make eye contact with you. Specifically, you liked when she looked at you while she was laughing to see if you were also laughing, to share in that joy with you.

As you watched your wife between sips of wine, there was a rupture of adrenaline that came over you. All that you’d been thinking of about Wanda wasn’t some abstract concept about some idea of Wanda — they were all about the woman you loved, the woman who loved you, the woman you were married to.

The woman who was yours, and who’d only ever be yours, as you were hers.

The thought warmed you and made you feel delighted, but your cheeks felt warm and the wine warmed your throat and chest in such a pleasant way, and suddenly, you needed Wanda then and there like you knew you had her.

“Are we all ready for dessert?” Wanda asked, looking around at the table to see everyone’s plates empty with their silverware to the side. 

When Vision confirmed for both himself and Virginia, Wanda said, “Y/N’s made a wonderful cheesecake for the occasion. She can be quite the chef.” Her praise made you feel a bit bashful and you smiled at her gratefully.

Virginia expressed excitement for dessert while you and Wanda collected the empty plates to bring to the kitchen, letting them know it’d be a few minutes.

You followed behind Wanda as she headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. Dishes were thoroughly emptied and rinsed before being placed into the sink while Wanda carefully took the cheesecake out of the fridge.

“Can you take this?” she asked, holding the cake out to you. You took it from her and placed it on the island counter at the centre of the kitchen. “I think I’ll slice some fresh fruit and arrange it nicely on top. I didn’t want to do it before it was served or it wouldn’t be fresh.”

You were listening, but not quite taking in what she was saying. You watched her closely as she took out some fruits and honey from the fridge and brought it to the counter before taking out the cutting board. She tucked loose hair behind her ears and pushed her sleeves up.

Her neck was exposed and you felt the urge to smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her skin against the tip of your nose.

You stepped forward so your pelvis was pressed against her hip, an arm wrapped around her waist as you pulled her close and ducked your head beyond the strands of her hair, burying your nose in her neck. She tipped her head to the side, allowing you room to kiss up her neck.

You felt the vibrations of her laugh against your lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need you,” you answered briefly, using your other hand to tug her sleeve down slightly and expose some of her shoulder so you could kiss there too. There was no response from her aside from a soft hum, and you knew it had been on her mind too. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it; all their implications have made me think of you all night.”

“And that constitutes you needing me now?” she asked, turning her head to look down at your face along the slope of your nose and forehead seeing as your face was still half-buried within the crook of her neck. “I would have thought you’d be too busy brooding.”

She was trying half-heartedly to taper your desire, but the soft inflection in her voice told you she’d certainly felt the same thrum you’d been feeling too.

“I was busy with far more important things.” You wrapped your fingers around her wrist carefully and led her hand down to between your hips, and in spite of her hesitation, Wanda’s fingers wrapped delicately around you through your pants. Your hips immediately bucked into her hand.

Wanda inhaled sharply then sighed at the feeling of you. “Y/N…” Your name trembled on her lips. You watched as she swallowed, eyes flickering up at the hallway in front of you both. Her jaw tensed and she looked back down, fingers twitching as she internally fought against her most rational objections.

She bit the inside of her cheek before her hand moved, unbuttoning your pants then unzipping. She met your eyes, her hand pausing momentarily, perhaps wishing you might change your mind suddenly and stop her before she was unable to stop herself. But you said nothing, only meeting her eyes with stubborn conviction.

Your gaze made her cheeks flush a soft pink and Wanda shifted in her spot, pushing her own hips against the edge of the island counter, no doubt feeling her own desire growing. She looked down and tucked her hand past the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down along with your pants until your cock was free.

“I’ve been thinking about having your lips around my cock,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the lobe of her ear. “About the way you groan when I pull out just enough so you can taste the way you make me feel against your tongue before I fuck myself down your throat. I thought about how beautiful your pussy looks when I lay you down and spread your cunt open. I thought about you.”

Her breathing became heavy at the sight of your arousal, seeing how you twitched as you spoke about her. Her hand wrapped around you, her thumb brushing gently over your sensitive tip and eliciting a soft grunt from you.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed from beyond clenched teeth. Your hips twitched forward into her hand and Wanda didn’t wait a moment before giving you the friction you wanted, her hand jerking around you and repressing a moan of her own as she felt you throb and twitch in the warm confines of her palm.

Your arm wrapped around her waist advanced upwards, pulling up some of her shirt and exposing some of her lower stomach as your hand groped at Wanda’s clothed breast.

She let out a soft moan and you watched as she squeezed her thighs together and further pressed her pelvis into the kitchen counter in desperation. Her hand gained speed, ensuring to graze around your tip each time her hand continued its rhythm around you. Her head rested on your shoulder as she watched the way she touched you, watched the way you let her touch you, her breaths shaky as she felt her own desire climb.

But how could you deny your wife mutual pleasure?

You moved the cutting board to the side and Wanda watched as you readjusted things. 

“Y/N, don’t,” she protested quietly. “We can’t.”

Ignoring her, you moved from her side, her hand releasing from around you as you placed your hands on her hips and pressed her against the counter. 

You unbuttoned her pants and watched over Wanda’s shoulder as she watched your hands, her chest rising and falling, gripping the edge of the counter. She was so warm against your body and her perfume smelled so nice. 

You pulled her pants down along with her underwear, allowing you to press your cock against her perfect ass. 

Wanda exhaled a deep, trembling sigh and she leaned forward against the counter. “Y/N,” she weakly protested again, reaching back and trying to swat your hand away. 

Impatient about wanting her to give up her hesitation, you pulled her pants down further below her ass and slotted yourself between her thighs, parting her wet cunt with your dick and brushing your tip against her clit. 

Her head fell back against your shoulder and you felt her thighs squeeze together ever so slightly, nudging you up against her clit. 

“We can’t?” you asked. 

“They’ll…” Wanda braced herself again and straightened her back, knuckles turning white as she pressed the pads of her fingers into the underside of the counter. “They’re in the other room. We’d have to…”

“Be quick?”

She nodded. 

“I can be quick,” you told her. You kissed the corner of her jaw, the hollow part behind her earlobe. “You know I can be quick.”

Your hand slid down her stomach, the heel of your hand brushing against the space between her hips before your fingers found her clit. Carefully, you brushed them against her, feeling the way she twitched her ass back against you, subtly rubbing herself against your cock that was still throbbing between her thighs. 

“Beg me to fuck you.”

Wanda looked over her shoulder at you. “What?” she asked. “I thought you wanted–”

“But you were so adamant that we couldn’t. Now, I’m not so convinced myself,” you said. “You’ll have to beg me.”

“Y/N, please,” she whispered impatiently. 

You gave a quick pinch to her clit and Wanda repressed a yelp as her body jolted against yours. “That’s not how you beg, baby.”

Wanda urged, “We don’t have time.”

“Make time.”

Impatient, you spanked Wanda’s ass lightly and took a handful of the soft flesh, eliciting a sharp inhale from your wife before she sighed out, “Oh, Y/N…”

She reached back, parting from your hips to make enough room for her hand. She wrapped her hand around your cock and stroked it slowly, bending herself over the counter and presenting herself to you obediently. 

“Please, daddy,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I want… I want you. Please. I need you.”

You watched as her desperate hand continued to pleasure you, watched as her back arched as she bent over the counter. You pushed her shirt up her back, eyes running up the delicate curve of her spine and feeling with your palm the smoothness of her soft skin. 

“Are you… Are you going to?” Wanda asked nervously, fully aware of the fact that you had every liberty to pull away and forget all about wanting to fuck her right there and then. She wasn’t exactly meeting your eyes, not that she could at the angle she was looking back over her shoulder at you, but she wasn’t exactly trying to either, for the possibility of you leaving her all desperate and unfucked was all too real.

You hummed in what sounded like consideration, but really, you were just running your eyes down the curve of Wanda’s lower back and the perfect swells of her ass, watching the way she continued to hesitantly stroke you, desperate to please and desperate to have you inside of her.

“How could I deny you, Wanda?” you finally answered, and you saw your wife flush from beyond her mess of loose strands, looking away and at the hallway ahead that led to the dining room. 

“We really have to be quick,” she reminded, letting go of you but not without brushing her thumb over your tip again. 

A hand came to her upper back and flattened her against the kitchen counter, a soft grunt leaving Wanda as was pressed down against the marble. “You really overestimate yourself if you really think it’ll take very long to get you to come,” you mocked, hands hooking under her hips and around her upper thighs, arching her back further and sticking her ass up. 

At the sight of her cunt, you groaned and parted her sticky mess with your thumb and middle finger, brushing your index finger down across her clit. You ran your thumb across her hole, dipping ever so carefully into her before removing your hand to position yourself against her opening.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” you said, “how embarrassed and shy you were every time they mentioned sex or asked about our sex life. Trust me, there were dozens of other things running through my head, but one in particular.”

Wanda gripped at the edge of the counter, taking in a breath as she felt you prod at her opening with your tip, dipping in just enough for her to feel the stretch of your cock sliding into her. “What… What was it?” she asked quietly.

“I wondered why you felt such an urge to act so embarrassed talking about sex when you know what a fucking slut you are,” you gritted out before your hands tightened around her thighs below her hips and pulled her ass back against you so your cock slid into her with a single thrust. 

You leaned forward to grunt against her shoulder, muffling your noises and letting your wife know how good she felt. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my dick, angel,” you groaned. “Sweet innocent girls wouldn’t be able to take cock like this, Wanda. You put up a front when you’re with them, but you know how much you love getting your pussy fucked raw by daddy. Isn’t that right?”

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, her moans and yelps being only partially-swallowed as she tried to keep them from escaping past her lips, though it become increasingly difficult as you began thrusting forward, trapping her between the kitchen counter and your hips and forcing her to withstand the entire impact of your brutal fucking.

“Th-That’s right…” she conceded.

“I know it is,” you agreed. “I know it is, because it’s fucking filthy. You’re a filthy slut, baby. You can hear it, can’t you?” You reached down to rub your fingers against your wife’s clit. “You can feel how much it turns you on that you’re all daddy’s, that daddy can fuck you whenever she wants because she owns you.”

Your forehead laid against her shoulder and Wanda reached up to cradle the back of your head with her hand, interlacing her fingers with your hair.

“That’s right. Fucking take it,” you grunted into her ear, feeling yourself growing closer each time Wanda’s walls squeezed around you, listening to her delicate high-pitched yelps every time you pinched her clit or thrusted into her so hard her ass stung with the way your skin slapped against hers. 

Her hips were beginning to become sore with the way they were pressed against the edge of the counter.

“Do any of you need help in there?” Virginia called from the dining room, audibly beginning to head down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“A-Ah, no!” Wanda called back, her attempts at repressing her moans making her response come out slightly more aggressive than she’d wished. “Please don’t! We’re almost finished. Just…” Her head hung as she quickly ran out of excuses, but she couldn’t bring herself to push you away — not when she was so, so close.

Not when you felt this good inside of her, holding her so close against you.

You felt so good with your arms around her.

You took a handful of Wanda’s ass as you shoved her further down against the counter so she was being soundlessly fucked from behind as her hair gradually became undone, her shirt riding up to expose that beautiful curve of her spine that you loved. 

“Wanda’s a bit of a perfectionist with decorating the cake,” you added, digging your nails into her malleable flesh and watching as smooth ivory tinted into a flushed red. “She wants it to be a surprise!”

“I promise we’re… we’re nearly finished!” Wanda called back, slightly breathless, before quickly burying her face into her arms and muffling herself.

Virginia gave in, saying something about having the both of you promise not to work too hard because both she and Vision would love the cake anyways. But neither of you paid much attention once you heard her walking back down to the dining room.

“You feel so good inside of me, daddy,” Wanda whimpered into her arms. “Please come inside. I want to feel you. I wanna feel how warm you are.”

Being degraded always turned Wanda on, but it was being praised that made her come; you loved how your wife was so sensitive to sweet things like that.

So you lifted her from the counter with your arm wrapped around her waist so her arms were taut with her hands gripping the edge of the counter again. From here, you were pressed against her with access to whisper into her ear.

“You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you, sweetheart?” you complimented against her cheek, pressing a kiss there and running your hand beneath the confines of her shirt. “All nervous and hesitant to let daddy make you feel good at first, but you knew better later, didn’t you? You know that I know what’s best for you, honey.”

Wanda nodded fervently. “Yes, I…”

Your hand pulled Wanda’s bra to the side and you kneaded her breast with your hand, feeling the way her nipple hardened against your palm before moving to the other and pinching her other nipple between your thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I know,” you cooed when she leaned back against you with a prolonged, quiet moan. “My princess, you’re such a good girl.”

“Why don’t you listen to what a good girl you are, hm?” you asked, moving both your hands down to grip her hips again and pulling her against you. You watched in detail as you pulled out of her, her glistening pussy wrapped around your cock, before you thrusted back in, your obedient wife taking every inch. 

Both of you listened to how her cunt sounded around your dick, her slick coating you as you throbbed inside of her, her tight walls squeezing you in just the right way, feeling the way the pressure from her walls gripped around your tip when you pulled out at just the right length.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels so good,” you groaned, leaning back so you could watch the way her ass looked when you rutted your hips against her. Unable to help yourself in spite of the noise you knew it might make, you delivered a spank to the side of Wanda’s ass. 

You then wrapped your arm around Wanda’s waist again, your other hand moving up to cup the side of her cheek and turn her head around so you could kiss her lips. “Come on, angel, fuck yourself on daddy’s cock. Let me see how badly you wanna come on my dick.”

Wanda obediently began moving, arching her back to allow herself leverage to fuck herself back against you, listening to how her ass slapped back against your hips.

“That’s good, baby. You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out against her neck, kissing the warm expanse as you listened to Wanda whimper and try to hold herself together until you gave her permission to come. Your hand groped her breast again. “You’re so needy for daddy’s cock, hm? You’re making such a fucking mess, Wanda.”

“Y/N…” Wanda whispered, her arm reaching back to grab at the edge of your shirt. “Please let me come. Please.” You kept your chest pressed against her upper back, allowing her to meet your eyes when she turned her head to plead.

“Come all over daddy’s cock, baby, come on,” you permitted. “I love to see you all desperate for me. Let me see you come, Wanda.”

Wanda ground her ass back against your hips, burying your cock deep within her pussy as she came around you, walls gripping at your twitching cock. You felt her pulsate around you as she grasped desperately behind her, searching for your hand. 

You interlaced your fingers with hers and kissed her lips as you came to your own hilt, emptying yourself inside of her and letting her feel your warm cum fill her up to the brim until you could feel yourself dripping out from the sides of her cunt.

Weakly, you continued thrusting into her, fucking your cum deep inside of her as Wanda whimpered, sensitive and still pulsing around you as she felt your sticky warmth shoot up inside of her. 

“Oh… I love when you come inside of me, Y/N,” she breathed out, satisfied and tired as she let go of your hand and used both to balance herself against the counter as she slumped forward.

You grinned at her and kissed the back of her neck as you pulled her underwear up first, giving her sensitive cunt a quick swipe through her panties, telling her to keep your cum in for as long as she could. Then you did her pants back up and did the same for yourself.

The rest of the cheesecake decorating went relatively fast after Wanda quickly cleaned herself up in her kitchen window reflection. 

Actually, neither of you had ever decorated a cheesecake so fast considering you decided to go a bit overboard with some whipped cream to make up for how long you both took — it would’ve made far more sense to come out with a more intricately decorated cake. It was a decently-sized cake, just enough for four people to enjoy, so it didn’t take as long as it would’ve if it were sized regularly.

“Oh, we were so worried you might’ve needed help with the dessert,” Virginia said the moment the both of you stepped into the dining room, Wanda with the cake in hand and you with the plates and silverware.

“We’re so sorry,” Wanda apologised. “One of us set the cake lopsided in the fridge and it came out a bit kooky, so we had to reshape it and all. And then the organising of the fruit and—” She waved her hand dismissively as she set the cake down. “Well, it’s all finished now.”

You set the plates down for everyone along with their respective knives and forks. “We hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you told them apologetically.

Aside from how your initial impression as a couple spiked Virginia and Vision’s interest in wanting to sleep with both you and Wanda, the meal thus far must’ve paid off, for they really didn’t seem irritated at all after waiting for dessert. 

And they did end up enjoying the cake too.

Except for Wanda, however, who seemed to be rather distracted with something else. You watched as she kept readjusting herself in her seat, her thighs squeezing together every so often and taking sips of her wine just to fidget with the handle of the glass.

You were rather eager to fuck your wife in the bedroom too after dinner, but before that, to see how much of your cum had leaked out of her.

By the looks of it, she had failed to hold much of it in.

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | barbie!wanda

Having been a Barbie her whole life, Wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. Thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

pairing: innocent!barbie!wanda x fem!gynecologist!reader

word count: 2054

warnings: smut (18+), not exactly a dark fic - surprisingly consensual given the circumstances, just barbie!wanda exploring her identity and being corruptibly cute

Wanda didn’t quite know what to expect when she stepped foot into the gynecology centre. It’s to learn more about your body, Natasha had said, urging her to go. The doctors there will help you. 

She hopes her doctor is nice.

.

“Name?”

“Wanda Barbara Maximoff.”

“Your queue number is 476. Please proceed to Room B when your number is shown on the screen.”

“Okay.”

.

The metal handle of the door is cold.

That’s the first thing Wanda registers when her right hand meets the shiny surface. It’s a contrast to the warm blood that flows within her body, thrumming in her veins and sliding under the surface of her supple skin.

Temperature. Texture. Telltale emotions.

It’s a whole new world, really, with a human body. Wanda certainly isn’t used to existing within one that isn’t Barbie-like. 

She can’t jump out a window and fly two floors down without breaking any bones. (You don’t want to know the story behind that.) 

She can’t walk out of the house in full-body neon pink, either. (That one can be achieved with a severe lack of others’ opinion, but Wanda gets this human thing they call ‘anxiety’.)

Change.

That’s what it’s called, experiencing new things, and that’s what this is about.

Wanda pushes down the door handle. She can do this.

.

“First time?”

“Uhm, yes.”

The doctor’s back is facing Wanda, going clickety-clackety on the computer that actually works and is not made of plastic. It’s a female gynecologist, just like she requested. (Wanda loves women! She’s all for strong and independent women.) 

Wanda probably staring at the back of the doctor’s head a little too hard, but then the doctor swivels in her chair, finally turning to face Wanda, and turns out Wanda actually can’t do this anymore.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, and I’m your gynecologist.”

.

(This Barbie is going through gay panic, except she doesn’t know it.)

Of all the things that could possibly happen to her, of course Wanda's gynecologist is the most attractive person she’s ever laid her eyes on.

This was not how this was supposed to go. Wanda’s brain is short-circuiting, and she has this new feeling coursing through her body that causes her heart rate to speed up exponentially. It’s new. And different. And oddly nice.

“Wanda? You alright, sweetheart?”

The blonde snaps out of it with a flushed face, snapping her jaw shut. Sweetheart? Vision – a Ken – had tried calling her that once. She didn’t like it.

Sweetheart.

Wanda decides that she likes the way you say it.

“Yep. I’m right here. Sorry.”

You get this side smile on your face for a moment, something flickering in your eyes as you stare at Wanda, and it causes the biggest shiver to run down her spine. 

Wanda’s heart is palpitating uncontrollably. If anyone heard it right now she’d probably die of embarrassment.

You pull out a stethoscope.

F***. (She learnt that word from Tony.)

.

Wanda’s skin burns under your touch, as you place the medical instrument over her chest, listening keenly to her heartbeat. 

The blonde thinks she’s going to pass out, with the way you move your rolling chair over so close your legs could touch hers.

“It’s quite fast,” you murmur, your voice taking on a lower tone, and Wanda has to physically swallow before her heart breaks through the constraints of her ribcage.

“O-oh,” Wanda responds breathily, a lot higher-pitch than she had anticipated, and she swears your eyes darken just a tad bit. (She doesn’t know what that implies. But it’s kind of hot.)

“Turn around,” you continue, moving back slightly to give your patient space. Wanda releases the breath she was holding and steals all the air she can, but when your hands slide up and under the back of her shirt, all that air is lost again.

It takes every cell of Wanda’s existence not to let out a whimper when you apply pressure on the stethoscope, right above the clasp of her bra. 

That new feeling has been amplified by a thousandfold, travelling from your touch to her skin to her heart and right between her legs.

(This Barbie is experiencing lust.)

.

“Alright, I’ve been informed that you’re a rather special case, Wanda,” you comment, not unkindly. “You don’t have any past medical records. So today I just want to check that everything is in good condition. We’ll do a quick pelvic exam to test your sexual and reproductive health, is that alright with you?”

Wanda doesn’t know what a pelvic test is. But she’d do anything you told her to, honestly, so she just nods.

“Okay, so you need to strip and lay down on the bed for me.”

“...Huh?”

(This Barbie is thinking dirty thoughts.)

.

Wanda is clothed in a blue surgical gown. She doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed for that.

All she knows is that the material is scratchy against her chest (or more specifically, her nipples are all tingly — she’s not quite sure what that means yet, but it feels strangely good), and that your gloved hands are spreading her thighs open on the operating bed.

Her feet meet the stirrup supports at the end of the bed, knees falling open, and the way you move your rolling chair between her legs in a swift motion has Wanda questioning how she ever entertained the idea of liking Kens.

Your hands run down the expanse of her thighs — probably a little longer than you should have, not that Wanda’s complaining — and your gaze locks on the pinkish bareness of Wanda’s pussy.

The reaction is instinctive, non-commital, subconscious. “Uhm,” Wanda whines, trying to close her thighs. She squirms under your inspective gaze, biting into her lip and trying to shift away from the grip of your gloved hands.

She’s so bare, so open, so vulnerable. But that’s not what scares her. It’s the fact that she doesn’t mind, not around you.

You seem to catch wind of this, and don’t release your grip on her thighs. 

Wanda stares at you with her heart hammering in her chest. Wide-eyed and flushed. The pulse grows from her chest to between her legs and that’s never happened before.

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, very softly, and Wanda melts like putty in your arms.

Her knees fall open again.

.

The rest of the examination goes somewhat smoothly.

Save for the embarrassing little squeaks Wanda makes when you peer a little too closely at her cunt, it’s not too bad. 

She knows you’re discerning possible signs of swelling and soreness or something along those medical lines Wanda is hardly an expert in, but what’s more concerning is the warm liquid pooling in her lower belly.

Wanda’s never felt like this before, especially not as a Barbie, especially not this vividly.

When that warmth spreads to the tip of her folds, threatening to emerge on its surface, Wanda’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know what it means that she’s going to be wet.

“All done,” you comment, leaning back, and Wanda’s legs snap shut just as her pussy grows damp, for the first time.

Crisis averted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, almost sadistically, watching her reaction with an amused look. “That’s just the external visual exam. The second part of the pelvic exam is where I get down to the real stuff, yeah? I’m going to have to put my fingers inside you.”

(This Barbie is dangerously close to passing out from skyrocketing levels of libido.)

.

“I normally use lubricant on my gloved fingers for my patients, but I have a feeling you won’t need it,” you comment dryly, casually tugging off your surgical gloves and tossing them into the trashcan.

Wanda is too embarrassed to respond. Her face is flushed, her nipples are extra tingly, and her pussy is thoroughly soaked at this point. 

And you’re just there, sitting between her legs with your hands on her thighs, a very badly hidden smirk on your face.

She kind of wants to slap your dirty mouth. Or maybe kiss it.

“This is a speculum,” you announce, pulling out a metal-hinged tool. “And I’m going to use it to keep your pretty pussy open. Make sure you don’t close up on me again.”

Wanda squeals at your choice of words, slapping your arm in embarrassment. At this point, there’s hardly a need for professionalism, but she’s still not used to the whole thing.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, thoroughly enjoying yourself as you put the medical instrument in place. Wanda’s so pretty, so innocent. 

A more sensual look takes over your features when you’re greeted with the sight of her glistening cunt again. Precious.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

.

“Oh!” The high-pitched noise Wanda makes when two of your fingers push inside her pussy is downright filthy. 

The sensations of your warm fingers bounce all around Wanda’s body and the room. It’s only your fingertips, and you’ve barely moved at all, but Wanda’s slick is dripping and she’s already stimulated like she’s never been before.

“More,” Wanda whines, bringing her hips up, urging you to continue. You press her down by the lower belly, your warm spreading out over her skin.

“This is an examination,” you state, no room for question. Your eyes narrow, and Wanda gulps. “We’re doing it how I like it.”

The blonde looks up at you with those doe-green eyes, pouting adorably, before nodding obediently. She’s been so busy ruling Barbieland that relinquishing all that power for once might certainly be pleasant.

You continue to slowly slide your two fingers in her cunt, and Wanda lets out a whimper. Her body moves with your touch like you’re her puppeteer, but maybe she needs it because this feeling is so, so new.

“Feels s’good,” she gasps, and you want to chastise her because it technically isn’t supposed to feel good, but you see the dizzied look on Wanda’s pretty little face and you relent.

It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve had your fingers in a woman, so your practiced fingers curl with expert ease to find her sweet spot. “Oh!” Wanda moans, louder, lithe body arching on the operation bed.

“Shit,” you swear, fingers curling again so you can see that exact reaction. You start to move, faster, harbouring this carnal desire to make Wanda scream and beg.

She’s so innocent, so corruptible, so easy. 

Sooner than later, you’re bent over Wanda’s body on the bed, wrist hammering in and out of her sweet pussy, finding all the spots that make her weak.

“Pretty girl,” you pant, biting hickeys into collarbone and her breasts. Her blonde locks are splayed out on the pillow, body shaking with each thrust, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, and it’s the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever chanced upon.

You memorise every stroke that makes her arch, every spot that makes her whine — perks of being a gynecologist, you supposed — you find your way around her body like it’s child’s play, and all too soon Wanda’s nearing a hypothetical edge.

“I think- I think I’mna pee,” Wanda cries, clawing at your wrist because the feeling is too much. She can hardly think, at the sheer pace and ferocity of which you were taking her cunt.

“Ever heard of a clitoris?” you question breathlessly, still pummeling your wrist into her soaked pussy. Wanda’s dripping, actually dripping. If she thought she was wet before, she was now soaking the sheets.

“Wh-what?” she responds, equally as breathless. Her mind was all fuzzy, barely registering your question.

“It’s this,” you add, bringing your thumb to harshly press against her swollen and puffy clit.

Wanda screams.

(This Barbie reaches another plane of existence with fantastical pleasure.)

.

It turns out Wanda is a ‘squirter’. She doesn’t know what the implications of that are. 

“Do I need to come back next week?” Wanda asks innocently, knowing full well gynecologist visits only needed to be scheduled once a year. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, back in her clothes.

“Definitely,” you respond, scanning over the test results calmly, like you hadn’t just made Wanda squirt twice in less than thirty minutes. 

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda asks playfully, purposefully batting her lashes when you look up from your computer.

You don’t bother hiding the chuckle that leaves your lips at her antics. “Yeah, doctor’s orders.”

a/n: you do not want to know how many health sites i visited to learn about pelvic exams and gynecology. | main m.list

[hentaihottee]

mdni. not proofread. quick drabble. happy holidays ❤️.

christmas eve, kento finally came home from a long, hard day working late only to find you, his most insatiable wife, in the living room seated on the plush carpet, right next to the white christmas tree and fireplace with a red ribbon tied around your well-endowed breast with a neat bow in the front, the ends of the bow flowing down the middle of your exposed belly. you paired the bow with a red, lace, crotchless victoria secret thong. next to you sat a can of whipped cream and a platter of chocolate covered strawberries. kento drinks in the erotic sight splayed before him with a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“merry christmas, ken. you get to open one gift tonight… i chose out the one for you,” you speak, your tone seductive as you wave your hand up and down your body with a sly smirk across your juicy lips. you look up at him with a sultry gaze as he approaches your awaiting figure by you all’s beautifully decorated christmas tree that is adorned with a plethora of wrapped gifts.

“you are going to be the death of me darling,” he chuckles as he shakes his head.

it doesn’t take long for him to unwrap his gift; work clothes abandoned and tossed across the living room, your ribbon now being used to tie your hands behind your back as your ass is now arched into the air while kento uses your super convenient thong as an anchor to slam you back onto his overwhelming large length, your plump ass rippling with each connection of his hips to your backside. the tip of his shaft deliciously making out with the top of your cervix, resulting in you screaming out in complete bliss as he continues to ravish you from behind.

“nooo, honey. this is what you wanted right??? take it. take all of this dick, sweetie. being such a haaa fuckk- good little slut for me mmmf.” he coos sweet, degrading nothings as he takes you from behind in the most filthy way possible. with your hands tied behind your back, you cant do anything but continue to take what he gives you.

his thrusts became slower and begin to push deeper into you, his cock perfectly massaging that spongy spot against your velvety walls.

“fu-fu-fuck! oh, baby you so deep b-baby. oooo fuck! im gonna c- ohhhhh fuckkkk…” your words cut off by your moans and the lewd sounds of your sopping pussy taking every pump that he gives it.

he leans his muscular frame over your back, reaching down and pulling you up by your head, holding onto your hair and throat as he talks directly into your ear, his tone is filled with nothing but lust and dominance.

“uh uh, princess… talk to me. tell me what you want so i can give you what you need, baby.” his hips digging into your backside as he pushes deeper inside of you, keeping his same slow & antagonizing rhythm. ken smirks against your ear as he continues digging inside you, knowing that this rhythm is what will push you over the edge. the sound of your and his current union acts as background music to the loud sounds of your voice letting off sweet pleas into the air.

“gonna cum, baby- oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck ohhh!” your declaration cut short as your orgasm takes over you, your stomach muscles tightening as your pussy flutters around his veiny length. your eyes roll into the back of your head as you get lost in your very intense orgasm, a small bit of clear liquid leaking out of your pussy onto the inside of your thighs and down kento’s pelvis as he prolongs your orgasm with his punishing slow stroke while he also talks you through your orgasm, worshipping you for how much of a good cocksleeve you are being for him. once you start to come down from your high a small bit, you are immediately dragged back up into it, moaning his name repeatedly like a sultry mantra as he picks up his speed, fucking you into overstimulation for a bit more. your gummy walls eagerly suctioning him inside as he drives into your snug pussy mercilessly before quickly pulling out of you, hastily flipping you onto your back and fisting his dick one, two, three more times before he shoots out his milky ropes of hot cum onto your body, landing upon your beautiful face and breast, as he lets out a primal growl of ecstasy while he undergoes his own orgasm.

as you breathe heavily and start to properly come down from your high, your eyes drift up to the clock that hangs above your fireplace, seeing that it is now 12:38am… christmas day.

“oh! merry christmas, baby” you softly say with a sweet smile upon your plump lips as you look up into your husband’s eyes.

“merry christmas, my love” ken replies, leaning down to softly peck your lips before laying his body down in between your legs. the warmth from the fireplace keeping you all comfortable as you lay on the plush carpet in your living room.

finally, ken breaks the comfortable silence and heavy breathing that filled the living room, “cmon, lets get cleaned up so we can put on our matching pajamas and open our presents,” he calmly says as he pushes himself off the floor, helping you up as he does so.

hope yall enjoyed that!! merry christmas, my loves! here’s just a little something to hold yall over for the holidays. I LOVE YOU GUYS! THANK YOU FOR 300 NOTES AND 250 FOLLOWERS AHHHH!!❤️

[ramp-it-up]

Cassandra’s Muse

Summary: Your job is to distract and read all who dare to go against Cassandra. And you take pride in your work

Word count: 2.5 K

Pairing: Deadpool x Reader; Wolverine x Reader; Johnny Storm x Reader; Deadpool x Wolverine x Johnny Storm x Empath Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILERS AHEAD of this line!Read at your own risk. S MUT! Morally Grey reader, sex worker reader, reader is an empath, lots of dark emotions, group sex, oral (m & f receiving) pansexual touch and intentions (it's Deadpool, folks) explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up), anal sex (f receiving) rough sex, dvp, squirting, copius amounts of cum, bukakke, after care. Reader has pet names from each hero: Sweets, Sweetie, Sweetheart.

A/N: Ok. I had to do it. If you inspired this, you know who you are, you menace. 😘 This occurs within an imagined scene between the scene where Pyro captures Johnny, Wade and Logan and when they were delivered to Cassandra Nova. This is pure filth. Let me know you like it by liking, commenting and reblogging!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

“Let me put your hair up for you. So pretty.”

Wade Wilson cooed down at you to the music of his shackles clinking as he gently pulled your cloud of hair up and out of the way. 

“Need to have a clear view of you hoovering that anaconda.”

Your lips were stretched around Johnny Storm’s thick, tan cock as his blue eyes stared down at you and a steam of eloquent pornography flowed from his lips.

“Mm. That throat is so gatdamn tight Sweetheart. Can’t wait to fuck that tight little wet gash of yours. Holy shit, that’s good. I know you can take it deeper. I know you can. Such a sweet little innocent slut for us.”

He had no idea. You were in service to Cassandra. She called you her muse, a tool to service her future victims so that when she felt their minds up, she had something more to get off on. You were her little slut, her psychic empath who fed off of other’s joy and you loved your job.

Giving others joy got you off something fierce. The fact that Cassandra loved it and that kept you alive was an added bonus.

Johnny’s hand snaked around the back of your neck to encourage you to take more of him. You looked up at him, eyes wide with tears streaming down your cheeks, while saliva escaped from your stretched-out lips.

“So pretty for us like this, Sweetie.”

Wade’s mask almost seemed to be emotive as he looked down on you, his long fingers fisting his cock with increasing speed as he watched you take Johnny down. It was disconcerting that he was completely naked except for his mask, but that was none of your business. He was sincere, despite the sarcastic monologue.

“I’ve always wanted to say that in real life and not just in my 1D/Destial crossover fanfics on Tumblr. Username is MrsLarryDestiel (no spaces) if you want to follow.”

Wade was leaning over to Johnny, who had steam rising from his head as he gazed down at you with devotion. You felt his amusement at this entire scenario. You tried to smile back around him, even though you knew his affection was only due to your skill.

After all, you’d just met him less than an hour earlier. 

“Get your hand off my ass before I burn it off, Wade.”

“Was just trying to help you push it in her tiny little mouth. Wasn’t trying to cop a feel of what looks a lot like America’s Ass, not really,” quipped Wade who was stroking and looking down at Johnny’s derriere.

Before anyone got injured, you pulled off of the hot one’s dick and licked Wade’s thick plum shaped tip.

“Sssss. Ahhhh, yes!”

 Wade groaned and threw his head back.

 “Suck that dick like your life depends on it, Sweetie. It may be our very last night on earth. I mean, in the void.”

You sensed no fear in Wade, only irreverence.

You followed his direction and opened wide as he slid his long, thick, Deadpool dick along your outstretched tongue. Wade was still talking, of course, even as he made eyes at Logan, who was lurking on the edges of the light, pulling on his dick with two hands and making low, almost indiscernible grunts. 

Now there were about a thousand different emotions coming off him, irritation, rage, despair, grief, a deep sadness, and foremost right now, need and frustration. You tried to watch him through your tear-filled eyes.

Wade and Johnny took turns with your mouth as Logan just moved nearer, his large, impressive cock raging against those impossible abs. His stare, and his body, made you drip even more in the dirt floor of the cave they were captive in for the night.

You needed him inside you, to at least extinguish his need. But yours was growing too.

“Why don’t you relax over there while we get her ready, Mr. Grumpy Pants. Little Miss Triple Threat looks like she’s almost ready to take three cocks at once in all of her holes.”

The Wolverine grunted, but went to a spot just a few feet away and reclined against a cave wall as he continued to handle himself.

Wade looked down at you and stroked your hair again, stage whispering to you as you deep throated Johnny’s cock down your throat.

“I know he seems like a party pooper and not down for this at all, but the fact that his beautiful meat is hard and leaking precum, which is delicious, bee tee dubs, oh, AND HE'S NAKED, means he definitely is.”

You smiled around the dick in your mouth and nodded as you pulled off Johnny, a string of saliva connecting you three as Wade grabbed you by the hair and plunged down your throat, barely giving you time to take a breath.

As you choked, you could see Logan jacking off faster from the corner of your eye as you swallowed Wade whole. Even with the mask, you could tell when his eyes rolled back into his head as you took every single inch.

“Get over here and sit on my dick.”

You were surprised at Logan’s voice, not having heard much of it during his ride in the cage, except to tell Wade and Johnny to shut up. Currently, his tone was more intense and raspy with desire.

You did as you were told and the action moved from the fireside to where Logan was reclining. 

“Move the fuck around, asshole.”

Wade stomped his foot.

“That’s what I’m trying to give you, Wolvie, baby.”

But he moved from in front of you so that you could take your throne.

“C’mere.” 

Logan reached up for you, the tender gesture a contrast for the crude situation you are in: fucking these men because it was the last night of their lives, which it almost surely was. You knew when Pyro let you into the cave halfway to her lair where they stopped for the night that no one escaped Cassandra.

You almost felt sorry for them. But when you read their emotions, you sensed no fear in these heroes. Only a myriad of other things including pent up tension, stress and desire for you. And for freedom. Or at least the sensation of being free.

Fucking all three of them would free your own soul, if only for the short time you would spend with them. They were all fine, and they looked like they would be a good time. If they only knew that your purpose was distraction, to keep them busy and not trying to escape.

If you searched their emotions hard enough you might find that they knew what you were about, and that they didn't care.

You accepted the offer of Logan’s hands and settled on his muscular thighs, glancing at the other men stroking themselves by firelight to the sight of you stretching yourself around the thick head of Logan Howlett, the Wolverine’s, cock.

Their attention only made you wetter and you slid further down Logan’s thick staff than you thought you could. When Johnny and Wade each grabbed a nipple as you whined and got even slicker the sensations allowed you to encase that extra inch at the base of him.

You were so full, not having been stretched like this in a while with a human, visually pleasing partner in a long time. You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, biting your lip at the delicious sting of taking him.

Logan looked up into your eyes and then commanded you with that deep, sexy voice.

“Open your eyes, look at us, and bounce on this cock Sweets.”

The smack on your ass spurred you on as Johnny leaned against the wall, watching your tits bounce as he jacked himself, and Wade got behind you, straddling Logan's thighs and rubbing them. You thought you knew what was coming next as you felt Wade’s hot breath on your shoulder as his hard length slid through your slick folds. But you were surprised as he entered you, although not in the hole you expected.

Within a few seconds, Wade was nestled deep within your cunt, cock alongside Logan’s in your snug sleeve, making you mad with pleasure. An obscene groan from you accompanied Logan’s warning to Deadpool.

“Watch it fuck face.”

Loan’s voice was husky, and there was a glimmer of a smirk as he grasped your breasts, roughly pulling on your nipples. Fear of his claws coming out and injuring you caused the contractions of pleasure in your belly to quicken, even as Wade sassed him back.

“You can fuck my face later buddy. Right now, let’s both concentrate on fucking this beautiful, nice, accommodating lady’s beautiful, nice accommodating cunt..”

The two men fell into an oddly synchronistic, sinful rhythm, both of them filling you to the brim in the best way possible, sexy groans finally replacing the smart words coming from Wade and literal grunts and groans coming from Logan.

Johnny moved, filling your mouth and causing your moans to vibrate around his shaft as Logan and Wade fucked you stupid.

“Holy fuck!”

Johnny rasped as you started sucking his balls, your legs shaking as Logan and Wade pounded you into oblivion. You feel a tremendous pressure and you tried to run from what was coming, but Wade’s fingers were circling your clit and Logan’s hands are around your waist, his mouth latched onto your left nipple. That and the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging your scalp collided to make your impending doom come much more quickly.

You pulled off of Johnny's unit to scream.

“Oh shit, oh shit, ohhhhhh shitttttt, I- I- I- I’m cummingggg!”

“Holy shit, she's gushing like Old Faithful all around us!”

You soaked Logan as you squirted, seemingly never endingly, all over. everywhere. Wade slipped out of you and so did Logan, but instead of giving someone else a turn with your pussy, Logan growled in your hair and pitched you forward onto his chest with his hands underneath your thighs. 

“Want that ass.”

You clenched around nothing as Logan lifted you up and squeezed your ass cheek in order to give his hard, thick cock access to your puckered hole. You were so wet that he kept slipping around until you felt Wade reach in and grab Logan’s dick, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it home inside your tight ass.

You saw the sneer, and you heard the ‘schnick’ of Logan’s claws coming out and Wade’s giggle as he explained. 

“Just trying to help with the mission, Boss.”

You didn’t care about any of it as your head lolled back on your shoulders because Logan was filling you up deliciously.

Wade retreated and pulled his mask up to lick his fingers. He and Johnny resumed stroking as they watched Logan pounding you mercilessly from below, your cum making it embarrassingly easy. You locked eyes with him, and grabbed the tufts on top of his hair for purchase as you screamed and came again, just from his cock in your ass.

"Ahhhhh! Shittttt!"

“Mmmmnhhh! Incoming, Sweets”

Logan’s cum spurted inside you and began to leak out around his cock, making you even messier than before.

“Ugh. Fuck. So good.” 

He kissed your forehead as he softened inside you, then lifted your thigh to slide out from underneath you. You braced yourself on the wall as you tried to catch your breath and savored the feeling of him dripping down your legs and the peace, if only momentary, emanating from his soul. You didn’t realize that your eyes were closed until you felt  a new desperation accompanied by a hand on your arm and two hands on your ass. 

“Don’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but I’ll take it tonight.”

Johnny’s sparkling blue eyes and sincerity held you captive. His tender kiss on your lips distracted you as you felt Wade’s hands on your ass and you lowered yourself down around Johnny’s long cock.

Johnny slipped easily inside you because Wade and Logan had stretched you out, but he was so hot, literally, that you quickly clenched down on him. Your hands caressed his shoulders and trailed down his sternum and his happy trail to where you were connected. 

The way he looked at you from under his long eyelashes made you want to give him a show. You bit your lip and circled your clit, earning a groan and an appreciative stare from him as you started to ride. 

You sensed a sudden a wave of mischievousness from Wade and felt his tongue in our ass. He moaned, sending vibrations up your spine as he caused you to clench around his wet muscle and Johnny’s cock. He slurped you up, and pulled away momentarily to come up and whisper in your ear.

“Mmmm. You and Logan taste so good. You’re doing amazing, Sweetie.

He was down again and licking you clean, causing irritation to emanate from Johnny.

“I’m tryna cum, here, Wilson. Stop licking my balls, you jerkoff.”

Wade came up and wiped his mouth.

“So sorry, that was a total mistake. Didn’t mean to touch your huge, full, sexy balls with my velvet tongue. Not at all, Johnny.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to concentrate on this Sweetheart right. Here.”

Johnny kicked Wade away, stroked upward to make you moan, and then grabbed you by the neck as he flipped you over onto your back, grasping your thighs and folded you in half like a pretzel. 

“You ready to take this hot cock?”

You nodded enthusiastically as Johnny Storm began to fuck you relentlessly, his long cock reaching that magic spot inside you as you tightened around him, much to your chagrin.

It was going to be over too soon. You wanted him to use you longer.

“Mmmmph, Darlin’ I feel you, still so tight around me even after these two knuckle heads fucked your cunt silly. Should be loose, but damn, girl. C’mon. Cum for me like you did for Wolverine and Wade. Gimme that shit.”

Johnny reached down and strummed your clit, as Wade came and held your legs in place, his oddly beautiful cock hard against his abdomen. You stretched your neck and teabagged him, earning a choked, garbled moan, and no words from him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan standing over you and stroking his hard-for-you-again dick.

“Shit, shit, sheeeeiiittttttttt this pussy is so good. Fuck!”

Johnny pulled out and stood over your body as you scrambled up on your knees to open your mouth for your reward. The men gathered around you as first Johnny spurted white, hot cum all over your face, then Logan jerked on your tits, rubbing his bulbous tip all over your nipples, and Wade just sprayed everywhere as he watched the show.

You collapsed on your knees, wiping your face as strong arms lifted you up and took you to the other side of the cave and started washing you off with a bucket of water that had been warming by the fire. You looked up into Logan’s eyes and he avoided your gaze, concentrating on getting the cum out of your hair.

“You can rest now. We’ll cook up this bird that Pyro threw in here for food and you can sleep for a while.”

You sensed genuine tenderness, and another spark of a future need within him. You knew that they would wake you up for more than food later.

And you were more than okay with that. 

So you just smiled at him as his hand trailed the water down your body, this moment a respite for all of you, in the chaos of Cassandra’s world.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog!

[formulawolff]

celebrity — l.h.

pairing -> fem!reader x lewis hamilton

word count -> 2.2k

warnings -> lewis in bf mode, slight angst, cursing, alcohol usage, marijuana use, sexual innuendos, lewis is a FLIRT, reader is slightly insecure, some tears, hurt + comfort (THE BEST TROPE EVER)

a/n -> i am well aware this is not in the garage, but i just can’t stop thinking about this concept. i hope i did it justice!

“you look beautiful.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks, your palms clamming as his hand drifts toward your thigh, grasping the heated skin. he flashes you a smirk as his thumb delves underneath the fabric of your gown.

“easy there,” you murmur, head connecting with his shoulder, “we don’t want to be late.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“i think a few minutes wouldn’t—“

“lewis.” you tut, and he picks up the way your eyes roll in the rear view mirror, “i’m already an anxious wreck. now is not the time.”

“i’m just trying to put a smile on that sweet face,” he counters, yet his tone is light, “you’ve just been so uptight today. all i’ve seen for hours is that tight-lipped frown. the one you wear when you’re dreading something or super worried.”

you shrug, gaze darting toward the passenger window, “i just hate work-related events. especially around the holidays. why do they even matter?”

as fate would have it, your boyfriend, lewis hamilton, would be accompanying you to a gala hosted by your agency. it was the annual holiday ball, where all of the employees were invited to dress their best, encouraged to bring along a plus one.

due to lewis’ hectic schedule during the year, it was difficult to find a window of time to see one another. add in a time zone difference along with your own line of work, and it was almost impossible.

however, lewis made no exceptions when it came to you.

if it was something involving you, he would find time.

no matter what.

and just a couple of days ago, he flew into chicago, so that he could be with you for all of the holiday celebrations. although you had only been dating for about a year, you knew it was time to introduce him to not only your family, but your coworkers as well.

so what better way to introduce him than a work-related party?

yet, it wasn’t that easy.

lewis was no ordinary man. he was a seven time world champion, a highly decorated and coveted athlete in his sport. he spent his weekends driving at speeds well over two hundred miles an hour. he was sponsored by tommy hilfiger, owned a brand, and was even knighted.

he was well-known all around the world, even by those who were not formula one fans.

everyone knew sir lewis hamilton.

and what the world didn’t know, was that he had a girlfriend.

an american girl, merely twenty-three years old.

so naturally, you were a little apprehensive about tonight.

especially if people started to snap photos and post them.

that aspect was the most terrifying part of it all. what would people think? what would his fans say about you? what rumors would the tabloids and gossip pages spin?

how would people perceive you? how would they see your relationship with lewis? would they hate you? like you? think you’re pretty? what if lewis broke up with you because you weren’t good enough for his fans?

what if?

what if?

what if?

his hand squeezes your thigh, bringing you back to earth, “they’re important because your coworkers are like a second family. i know that sounds corny, but it’s true, especially at an agency like yours.

you guys see one another for nearly forty hours a week. i think it’s only fair you attend one work-related event. even around the holidays. who knows, some of your coworkers may not even have a family to come home to. so that’s why they enjoy events like this.”

letting out a huff, you shift your body to your right, in the direction of the window. a brassy chuckle rumbles in his throat, flowing from his plush lips.

“you know i’m right, love. that’s why you’re pouting over there.”

inhaling a sharp breath, you then exhale, shaking your head. the words are low, barely a whisper.

“maybe it’s because i don’t want everyone at work knowing about my private life.”

“oh baby girl,” lewis hums. you feel his grip on your thigh tighten, “is that what’s been bothering you?”

“y-yeah.”

your lower lip trembles, promising of tears. the golden lights of the city morph together as your vision blurs, the car soaring down lake shore drive. a steady hand dials the volume of the music down, his arm intertwining with yours.

just for a second, you feel his eyes pull away from the road, taking in the way you’re practically clinging to him, desperate for some comfort.

“talk to me love. tell me what’s going on.”

“i-i just,” you stammer, choking back sobs, “i just don’t like how my worlds are colliding. it makes me scared because it feels so… so… serious. i am terrified that you’re not going to like it here. or that you’re not going to like me.. the real me. and i just don’t want you to be bothered all night by people gawking or pointing or whispering.”

before you can even register what’s happening, lewis is pulling into the venue. as he places the car in park, waiting for the valet, you notice his jaw tighten, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

his brows are pinched together, his lips slightly pursed. his body shifts, the chain resting on his collarbone glittering in the low light. his chest heaves, almost as if he was panting, fighting something he couldn’t quite control.

almost as if his inhibitions were crumbling away by the second.

fingers curl around the base of your neck, pulling you in close. lewis cocks his head, tongue running along his lips as he studies you.

your pupils are wide, irises slightly glossy from the tears and the half-smoked joint tucked away in your clutch. your lips glimmer, shiny from the new lip oil he bought.

it was a shade he picked out hours ago, one that suited you oh so perfectly. he was satisfied with that pick, as it brought out colors in your eyes he never had noticed before. they were absolutely stunning, nearly pulling him in as he slowly fell further and further under your spell.

your hair was swept into an elegant style, one that you had never worn for him before. the way you managed to pull just about anything off left him speechless, struggling to find the words as his gaze wandered.

the gown clinging to your frame was stunning. it was a simple black piece adorned with crystal detailing on the bodice, sleeves, and skirt. it was a piece by elie saab, one of the top designers in the realm of gowns. very slyly, he was able to get your measurements one day on a whim, sending them over as quickly as possible.

he researched dozens upon dozens of gems and crystals so that he could find colors that reminded him of you. it was a gown that took months to perfect, as lewis started the moment you texted him about the event. he even had it flown over to the states with him, just so that he knew it wouldn’t get misplaced or damaged.

it was a one-of-one piece, made specifically for you and only you.

and to lewis, that was priceless.

he couldn’t tell you that, though. it was his little secret, meant to be divulged when he felt the moment was right.

“lewis,” the way his name falls from your lips is enticing, dripping with a sweetness he found himself addicted to, “they need to park the car.”

“oh,” he blinks, realizing that the attendant was waiting right outside, “shit. sorry.”

gritting your teeth, your can feel your heart thudding as lewis slips out of the car, chirping a greeting to the attendant. he makes his way around the front end, opening the door on your right.

he offers you his arm, bearing a wide smile. one of his trademark grins that nearly had you melting, your knees buckling as you took a step forward.

the agency you worked for was able to rent the art institute for the evening, transforming it to a wondrous winter-themed ball. all around there was a warm glow from candles, illuminating the vast space with golden light. people mill about, laughter intermingling with the clinking of glasses and music.

as you cling on to lewis, you feel your muscles tense, the pit in your stomach only growing by the second. fuck, there were more people than you expected. and of course, heads were starting to turn. ducking your head, you avoid any eye contact, hoping that lewis locates your table as soon as humanly possible.

this was just too much.

“easy there love,” his mouth ghosts over your ear, “i got you. i promise.”

“as long as you promise,” you mutter, shrinking slightly as you pass by a few people from the agency. there are a few gasps, hushed murmurs erupting as he manages to find your table, pulling your chair out.

“lewis, they’re staring.”

“let them."

in that moment, you want to sink into the chair. maybe even into the floor. beside you, lewis takes your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering them with tender kisses.

"you want a drink? it may help."

exhaling a shaky breath, your eyes dart around, noticing a cluster of your coworkers approaching the table. yet, you feel his attention remain solely on you, paying no mind to the women starting to swarm around. his fingers massage into your hand, his shoe pressed against your heel.

"why didn't you tell us you were dating a celebrity?"

"you're dating lewis hamilton? how long have you been dating? how did you meet?"

"i can't believe you didn't share this with us!"

lewis' head tilts upward, dimples forming as he flashes them a dazzling smile, "me? a celebrity? i'm not so sure about that. you may have me mistaken for someone else."

"no," your coworker, vanessa, shakes her head, "i know exactly who you are. you're sir lewis hamilton. seven-time formula world champion."

"how did you manage to land him?" another one of your coworkers arches a brow, "because never in a million years would i have--"

"i'm with her because i love her," lewis cuts in, his kindness rapidly dissolving into a polite yet firm tone, "it shouldn't matter what she does for work, or if she's an influencer or model. fuck, she could be unemployed and i wouldn't care. i love her for who she is. that's how she 'landed me.' she's absolutely wonderful. now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to go over to the bar."

your coworkers' eyes widen, their mouths clamping shut as lewis dips his head, motioning for you to get up. his hands grip the back of your seat, tugging the chair toward him. rising to your feet, you take his hand, fighting to maintain a straight face.

once you were out of earshot, lewis clears his throat, "how about we ditch this and go out to eat? how does that sound? we could go to that one restaurant you have been begging me to take you to."

"are you sure?" you press, "i don't want to make you feel as if i dragged you all the way out here only to stay for--"

"don't worry about it love," the driver leads you toward the exit, carefully discarding his suit jacket, "here, you'll need this. it was a bit nippier than i expected out."

as he drapes the jacket around your shoulders, you can't help but feel your heart swell, bliss rippling in your chest. taking your clutch out of your grasp, he holds onto it, clicking his tongue.

"a beautiful woman like you should never have to hold her bag. let me flag down the valet, and then we can go out. just you and me, yeah?"

the corners of your lips twitch, curling into a meek smile, "i would really like that."

"then it's settled," fishing his phone out of his pocket, his eyes scan over the sign resting on the podium, dialing the number for the attendant, "just so you know, people may snap some photos while we're out. are you okay with that? is it going to bother you? if so, then we can just go back to your place and order some--"

"i think i'll manage," you can't help but giggle at his concern, "as long as you hold my hand, i'll be fine."

"oh my love," a hand drifts toward your cheek, cupping it. the pad of his thumb caresses your cheekbone, the driver's heart fluttering as you nuzzle into his palm.

"your celebrity boyfriend loves you very much. you know that?"

"i do," you nod, "and i love my celebrity boyfriend. oh so much."

lewis leans in, his lips nearly on yours. his eyes lock with yours, his nose studs glinting as your head instinctively tilts back, anticipating what was to come next. he catches the shimmer of stars bursting in your depths as the tip of nose brushes yours.

"i'm not sure how much longer your celebrity boyfriend can contain himself. especially when you're so fucking stunning. i can't bear it a second longer. i need you."

"then kiss me," you counter, "and if someone sees, oh well."

"oh yeah?" he taunts, "you want someone to see?"

"maybe," heat rises in your cheeks as his lips tease yours, "maybe it's time that people know lewis hamilton has a girlfriend."

a chuckle rings out, lewis bringing you closer as the valet turns around the corner, the car approaching closer and closer.

"oh my love, i think it's time the entire world knows."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───