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avocado-writing · 5 months ago

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The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes.

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan.

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence.

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go.

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much.

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin.

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered.

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further.

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting.

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds.

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then.

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed.

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses.

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on.

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips.

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself.

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong.

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace.

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself.

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises.

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look.

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused.

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood.

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal.

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right.

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic.

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret.

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair.

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again.

…right?

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mlqueen89 · 2 months ago

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Hi! Can I request Thanksgiving with Marc Spector? Pls make it smutty

UHM. YES, ANON. YES. Sorry it took me so long, but here you gooooo! ♡

pairing: marc spector x f!reader (moon knight)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

warnings/triggers: smut, fingers in “pie”, oral (m & f receiving), (unprotected) p in v sex, slight dom behaviour, dirty talk, cream pie.

word count: 5,231

summary: november prompt request. marc has a kink for finger sucking which might definitely make you late for thanksgiving dinner with your family.

A/N: wanted to get this one out before American Thanksgiving. here you go guuuuys, enjoy smutty marc—thanks anon for requesting this one! p.s.: pleeeeeease read this at the dinner table or in front of your family and think about smutty marc. lemme know how that goes. also sorry, cause i don’t think i could write anything short to save my own damn life.

❥ masterlist ♡ requests ♡ taglist ❥

“Pumpkin or apple?” You peered at the beautiful pies lined up behind the glass at the bakery, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you balanced your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“What?” Marc’s response crackled through the phone, and you could hear the faint sounds of a crowded grocery store in the background. Marc had offered to brave the Thanksgiving rush crowd that morning, leaving you at your shared apartment, apron tied around your waist, staring at a variety of ingredients and a mommy blogger’s recipe.

It had taken you three reads of the entire recipe, flour already spilled on the front of your old band tee, before you decided that there was a perfectly good bakery a fifteen-minute walk from here. Better to play it safe.

“Pumpkin or apple.”

“You said you’d bake it, didn’t you?” His voice took on a cautious edge, the kind he reserved for tense negotiations and life-or-death situations.

You laughed, dry, incredulous, catching the curious glance of the teenager behind the counter. “Marc, baby,” you drawled, straightening and pacing toward the large plate glass window, “do you remember what happened the last time I tried to bake a pie?”

“Are you talking about the fire or Steven being sick for a week?”

“Exactly,” you replied, ignoring that the question was an either or situation. His response was enough to prove your point.

“So…”

“So, I’m going to play it safe this time...” You studied your freshly manicured nails, the deep merlot polish shining in the mid-November sun streaming in through the bakery’s front window. “I’ll just take it out of the box, put it in a pie plate and—”

“Bob’s your uncle,” Marc finished and you could almost hear the smile in his tone. It still made your stomach do that stupid little flip it did, the same one you’d felt on your first date with him.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you replied, the same smile in your voice as you nodded at the teenager to box up the pumpkin pie.

“Look, I’m cutting it close,” Marc said, his voice taking on that familiar clipped efficiency that you found strangely sexy. “I still have to grab the bread rolls and that canned cranberry sauce your uncle likes.”

You suppressed a gag. “How is it possible that someone willingly eats canned cranberry sauce?”

“Maybe it’s, I dunno—nostalgic?” He offered lightly.

“Or a very loud cry for help,” you muttered, tucking the boxed pie under your arm as you made your way to the register. “Anyway, just don’t be late. You know how my mom gets.”

“Oh, I remember,” Marc replied dryly, and you could practically hear him bracing for what was to come later that evening, sitting in a tiny split-level your parents refused to sell, all 19 of your family members crammed inside.

“Just—this is the first time you’re meeting my family, and it’s Thanksgiving—” you began, trying your best to underpin your nervous energy. You were sure Marc had clocked it from the moment you woke up last week with the odd stomachache and nauseated feeling that came only with the burgeoning terror of yet another family gathering.

“Hard to forget,” Marc sighed. You could hear the shuffle of activity on his end of the line, probably weaving between aisles and other patrons with the precise, purposeful strides that were very typical of Marc. “You’ve only reminded me six times this week.”

“I know it’s a bit—” you waved your hand even though you knew Marc couldn’t see it, trying to conjure the words clouding your mind, “much. It’s just because this year can’t be like last year.”

Even though you had been with Marc officially since before last Thanksgiving, this was the first time your family was meeting him.

Last year’s planned gathering had been efficiently derailed by what your family simply referred to as “The Great Turkey Incident,” which in reality was not simply just a series of near—catastrophes involving a broken oven, a kitchen fire, food poisoning and your sister swearing off hosting any family gathering for all of eternity. Your mother still choked up when you mentioned it, your father subsequently had to be medicated for high blood pressure. You assumed the latter had nothing to do with “TGTI,” but your dad swore up and down it did, in his thickest Bostonian accent, which only surfaced in moments of high stress or anger.

This year, your mother announced in August, would be better. Less chaotic. Normal or at least in the neighbourhood of normal. It remained to be seen, however, if that was at all possible. Property value in the Normal Neighbourhood had skyrocketed in the last year or so.

On one hand, Marc’s specialties were vast, especially when it came to making and keeping you extremely north of happy. Being normal, through no fault of his own, just wasn’t exactly one of those specialties.

As you stepped out of the bakery, into the November chill, you stopped, gathering yourself. “You’ve got this,” you amended softly, a bit for yourself and some for Marc too.

“What? Charming your entire family or surviving the day without anyone finding out about my… extracurricular activities?”

“Both,” you teased, your smile pulling up the corners of your lips until your cheeks hurt. How you’d gone so many years of your life without loving this man was beyond you.

“Great.” Marc’s response was quick, the hint of dry humour rolling through the phone, “piece of cake.”

“Pie. Piece of pie,” you shot back, “pumpkin, specifically.”

You smiled despite yourself, pulling your coat tighter as a chilly November breeze swept down the street. “It’s just… important to me, Marc. They’ve been waiting to meet you for ages, and after everything that happened last year…”

“I get it,” he said, his voice softer now. “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.”

You stopped on the corner, letting his reassurance settle over you. Despite his gruff exterior and his tendency to run headfirst into danger, Marc Spector had a way of grounding you when you needed it most.

“See you soon, babe,” Marc sighed, and though his words were casual, there was something calming in the way he spoke, the cadence of his voice a soothing sound.

“Oh! Don’t forget the flowers!” You reminded him, just before he could hang up, as you dashed across the street toward your car, a death grip on the pie box.

There was a long pause on the other end, so long that you pulled the phone away from your face to see if he’d accidentally hung up. “Flowers?”

“Just—trust me. It’ll win my mom over.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, a note of reluctant determination in his voice.

“Thanks, baby,” you smiled, making a kissing sound before you hung up the phone and carefully deposited the pie into the passenger seat and belted it in like precious cargo.

Tucking your phone away into a pocket, you shifted into the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel for a moment as you looked at the bustling street and sidewalk outside. This Thanksgiving was bound to be memorable—whether for all the right reasons or for another chapter of family chaos, you weren’t entirely sure. But if anyone could handle it, it was Marc Spector.

You hustled up the stairs to your second floor apartment, precious pie cargo gripped tightly in your hands as you pressed against the stubborn front door.

Marc had texted you about five minutes ago complaining about being at the back of some absurdly long lineup at the cashes, so you figured you had about 30 minutes to shower, get dressed and pull off the great pie lie.

Depositing the pie on the kitchen island, you hurried to the bathroom, stripping layers of clothing in a trail on your way. The hot spray of the water a welcome calm before the storm that would Thanksgiving with your family. Even when there weren’t disasters to speak of, there were differing opinions on everything ranging from politics to sports, celebrity dating drama to conspiracy theories. It was enough to drive even the most sane person, absolutely, stark—raving mad. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just north of wary introducing Marc into this mix that was already a powder keg.

Maybe this year, you’d pitch that next year, your family could celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving instead: early October, no arguments over politics, singing Kumbaya and sharing maple flavoured desserts while saying “sorry” a lot. That was how Canadians did it, right?

You were in the middle of thinking maple dappled, northern thoughts under the warm cascade of water when you heard the telling sound of the sticky front door of your apartment opening, followed by the sound of Marc’s voice, calling your name.

“Shower!” You called, though you were sure that Marc would be able to follow the trail of clothing even if you hadn’t answered

By the time you’d wrapped up the shower and stepped out from the steamed room, you found Marc in the kitchen, his eyes peering into the pie box curiously, the lid lifted carefully. “I think you’re going to owe me for enabling this lie,” his eyes were still on the pie box as you padded into the kitchen in your towel. Replacing the lid daintily, he handled the dessert like it was ticking, wired with red and blue leads and affixed with a countdown clock before his eyes flicked up to you. You didn’t miss the way he assessed your clothing situation, or lack thereof.

It was one of the many things you loved about this man, he made no show of hiding that he was always one opportune moment away from fucking you.

“First of all,” you started, folding your arms across your chest, “it’s not a complete lie: it was baked by someone, just not me. So, more like pie-adjacent authenticity. If my mom buys it, then I think I owe you—a thank you.”

Marc raised an eyebrow, “a thank you, huh? That’s all I get for being complicit in a fib to save you from culinary embarrassment?”

“Depends,” you smirked, stepping closer to peak into the top of one of the paper bags on the counter, “did you pick up the flowers?”

Marc smirked, tipping his head to a small bouquet of seasonal blooms sitting on the counter. “I think you’re just trying to distract me from the conversation—we were talking about how much you owe me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a straight face as Marc stepped in closer, narrowing the space between you. “Fine. Thank you, Marc. You’re my Thanksgiving hero.” You feigned a swoon.

“Damn right, I am,” his voice dropped an octave, his hand finding your toweled waist, pulling you across what little distance remained between you. He dipped his head to your neck and you moved to allow him access, your body responding as if moving with him as he explored your body came as naturally as breathing, as easy as the path of orbit, the innate pull of gravity.

You eased into the touch of his lips, losing yourself in the feeling of him against your skin, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you could feel the heat coiling low, between your legs, the wetness that had nothing to do with your shower growing.

“Marc…” you huffed as his hand left your waist and tangled in your damp hair at the nape of your neck, his other hand finding the top of the towel tucked against your body. “Careful…” you teased, but you were breathless as the words came out, no real urgency or command in them, “we still have to leave on time and you’re not exactly dressed for a first-time dinner with my family.”

“Plenty of time,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers hooked at the top of your towel, a single, gentle tug the only thing between you and the hungry man who stood before you, waiting to devour you completely.

If you didn’t have anywhere to be, you’d have shed the towel, found his belt and been on your knees in front of him, your mouth aching to be around his thick cock. But you did have somewhere to be and around the haze of the way Marc set your skin on fire under his touch, just on the edge of a losing battle between desire and responsibility, you knew you couldn’t. You’d attend dinner, stay an appropriate amount of time and then make sure to congratulate him for surviving your family on the drive home down a darkened stretch of backroad.

“You’re making this really hard for me….” you breathed out in a cross between a huff and a groan, pressing your hands flat against his chest and pushing without much effort, almost as if you wanted to say you’d put up a fight and had lost. There was always Christmas dinner, that was right around the corner, right?

“I was about to say the same thing.” His voice was a little more than a growl, a rumble in his chest you could feel beneath your palms, still flattened on his chest.

“Marc, baby,” you whispered, a small yelp interrupting your next words as he nipped at your jaw just below your ear, he was good. Too good. Marc had a way of making you forget where you were, of making everything around you melt away until it was just you and him, him and you, locked in perpetuity, together. “This isn’t going to get you out of wearing a tie….”

Marc groaned, his head falling to your bare shoulder and you turned to press your nose to his scalp, his soft, dark curls smelling of sandalwood and something distinctly him. “It was worth a shot….” he muttered after a moment before he kissed your collarbone and swiftly turned you around, giving you a slight, gently nudge toward the back bedroom. “Now go get dressed before I change my mind about taking that towel off.”

You sighed, pressing your knees together for a moment before you looked back at him over your shoulder, his hand pressed against the countertop for support, the bulge in his jeans clearly visible from where you stood. “Marc?”

His response was little more than a strained hum of acknowledgement, his eyes drawing up to you.

“Wear the tie Steven likes,” you smiled, partly knowing the playful tease would wedge somewhere under his skin, a small little dig, “it brings out your broody eyes. It’ll give you more of the boy-next-door look and less of the guy your mom warns you about.”

You carefully opened the lid of the pink pie box, using a knife to tactfully slice the tape holding it closed.

When you made it to the back bedroom, still in your towel, you thought briefly about touching yourself, loudly enough to entice Marc to finish what he started. It took you half a minute to decide against it, instead picking out Marc’s favourite pleated skirt, the one that was just barely appropriate for a family dinner. The one he’d fucked you in over the back of your couch after he brought you home from your third date together at that cute mini putt place downtown.

If you couldn’t fuck him now you’d make him sweat through the dinner, make him think about all the ways he wanted to fuck you when you got home.

You were only slightly disappointed that Marc was in the shower when you headed back into the kitchen. Quickly though, the disappointment faded to dread when you realized that you still had to plate the Lie Pie, the Pumpkin Pretense.

You were trying to lift the pie out of the box, when you felt hands on your waist, “you’re not playing fair,” Marc’s voice was next to your ear, his breath warm against your neck sending a shiver down your spine, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Jesus, Marc!” You jumped, your hand slipping off one side of the pie, your index finger and thumb dipping into the custard pumpkin filling and pieces of the perfect crust crumbling into the top of the pie. You froze and you could feel Marc stiffen at your back.

Marc broke the silence first. “It looks more… uh—realistically baked by you?” He rubbed the back of his neck and you huffed, carefully setting the pie back down in the box. You felt Marc leave your back and watched from the corner of your eye as he shuffled over to the cutlery drawer. “It’s okay—it’s fine. We’ll just, smooth it down and crumble some of the other edges and—”

You noticed that Marc was shirtless, his dark hair damp from the shower, a white towel tied around his waist. Suddenly, you felt like the skirt wasn’t diabolical enough. Your man naturally exuded “fuck me” vibes. You’d absolutely dine on this image of him through dinner. In fact, at this rate, your eyes raking over the hard lines of muscle banding his shoulders and arms, the deep cut of his abs trailing below the line of the towel, you’d be the one opting to skip Thanksgiving dinner and beg him to undo you.

When he moved back behind you, a butter knife in hand to remedy the situation, you could feel the outline of his cock, fitting just between your ass cheeks through the thin materials of the skirt and the towel. You swallowed thickly.

The thought made you smirk, Marc always wanted you and that thought alone drove you crazy with want. Still, you tried to remember that this was supposed to be the year that your family met him, this was supposed to be the big leap in your relationship with him.

“Okay, so just—,” you pointed to the spot on the pie where you could see the divots from your fingers. Marc moved the knife over to the spot you’d pointed to, carefully trying to figure out how he could make it look like a more natural flaw. “Yeah, I mean, I’d just kind of—”

Without thinking, you stuck your thumb in your mouth, carefully sucking off the custard as you pointed to the offending dents in the pie with your other hand. You noticed when the knife in Marc’s grip faltered and his knuckles whitened against the handle. You were sticking your index finger between your lips when you turned to look at him and froze, his face so close to yours, but his eyes were on your mouth and the finger currently trapped between your lips. You could hear his breathing hitch for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening as his own tongue moved to whet his lips. Behind you, you could feel the length of him twitch against your body and it was enough to make the coiling heat pulse low, between your legs.

In a fraction of a second, he’d abandoned the knife on the counter with a clatter, grasping your wrist as he pulled your finger from your mouth and stuck it in his up to your second knuckle. Slowly, he pulled it from his mouth, careful to relish the taste of the sweet dessert on you.

“You had to go and do that, didn’t you?” He huffed lowly as your finger left his mouth, clean, the sound almost a rumble in his chest and you leaned your head back against him. You definitely weren’t going to make it in time for dinner, but you’d known that when you slipped into the skirt. You were playing a dangerous game around Marc and he’d broken first.

“Marc…” you tried to sound exasperated, but his name came out as a whine as his rough hand slid up your thigh and dipped under the hem of your skirt. You could feel his hard cock against your ass through his towel as he pressed himself against you tightly. Instinctively, you pushed back and ground yourself against him and he groaned in response, his arm banding around your waist and anchoring you to him.

Reaching behind yourself, you wriggled to reach his length, but he moved just out of your reach, your fingers just brushing the rigid outline of him beneath the towel.

“Careful, gorgeous,” he murmured in your ear, a low warning, “not too fast. I’ve been wanting you all fucking day—”

Your head swam, the thought of him inside of you, pumping, pulsing, stretching you, bottoming out on repeat blurred all else. His fingers reached for the line of your panties under your skirt, and paused when they found none. You could feel his smirk against your neck as he alternated between kissing and nipping.

“Looking for something?” You hummed, teasing. Pleated skirt and no panties—you’d been asking for it, waiting for him to discover it. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t expected he’d find out this soon, not while you were still at home, at least. In testing his resolve, you’d set a trap for yourself, overestimating your ability to keep yourself from him.

Marc didn’t pause for long, his fingers following the lines of your already slick pussy until he found your swollen clit and began to massage in long, generous strokes. You sighed, humming as you melted into his touch.

“Can’t decide if you’re a bad girl or a good one….” Marc’s voice was low, his hips rutting against you as if he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep from the pleasure he felt as his shaft rubbed against the towel that rubbed against you. You responded under his touch in kind before the sound of a grunt that escaped him had you turning in his arms to face him.

“I can decide for you,” you murmured, low, your tone just on the edge of sing-song, husky with want. You just wanted him inside of you, any way you could get him. You began to sink to your knees in front him, your fingers hooked on the top of his towel. It came away easily, the cotton pooling at his feet, his cock springing out, erect.

Coyly, from your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes as he looked down on you, his pupils blown wide. You kept direct eye contact as you ran your tongue, wide and flat on the underside of him, tracing the path of the pronounced vein from base to ridged tip, slowly.

The deep moan that you pulled from his lips was enough to undo you, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft as you slowly guided the length of him inside your mouth.

“Fuck, baby. I—I just—if you,” his words were choppy, interspersed with muttered curses, grunts and groans as your tongue made careful paintings on the underside of his pulsing cock, the taste of precum filling your mouth with each pass. “I’m going to—fuck, baby—”

Marc pulled you up from your knees before he dropped to his, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before he set in on your wet center.

Holding yourself against the counter behind you, you arched your back, biting your lip against the moan that sounded more like a plea for more. As you reached for an edge of counter to grip, the tips of your fingers nudged the abandoned pie box. “Marc—fuck, fuck, fuck—” You pressed yourself up on the tips of the toes on the one leg that was still planted on the ground, your toes on the leg over Marc’s shoulder curling until your foot threatened to cramp.

“You said boy-next-door,” Marc huffed out a small laugh, the edges of his voice tinged with need as he lightly kissed your throbbing clit. He knew exactly how to drive you to the edge of madness and hold you there until you begged him to throw you over. “Is that what you want me to be right now?”

“F—oh god, fuck the boy next door,” your words were without heat, your tongue heavy, your mind a swirl of fog; you were malleable in his hands, you’d do anything he asked if he just said the words.

“Oh, is that what you want? I can get Steven out here if you—” Marc teased, stopping the perfect alternation of tongue and nose, thumb and light, maddening suction with his lips against your pulsating center. Before he could finish, you ground your hips into his face, cutting off his next words as you pressed your pussy against his mouth, encouraging him to continue with a moan as he licked a stripe between your folds carefully. Marc was nothing if not tactical, precise.

“Marc,” his name came out strained as you braced yourself against the counter at your back, your leg hooked over his shoulder as his fingers dug into your ass, pinning you in place, “please…”

You could feel yourself ascending, reaching the peak, your hips gyrating against each stroke of his tongue as he ate you out.

“Say my name, baby...” he murmured, his finger slipping into your wet cunt, his chin and mouth slick with you as he looked up at you from under dark lashes, his deep brown eyes blown wide. His gaze held yours, your chest heaving with each deep stroke of his thick finger, before he added another and you gasped, stretching around them. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he dipped to pepper light, noisy kisses on your clit.

“Marc—” you barely formed his name, your hand leaving the counter to grab a handful of his beautiful hair. “Please, I need you, now, right now—holy fuck—.”

Marc hardly ever lost control, hardly ever cracked, but when he had you, naked and begging for him… you felt powerful, like you held kryptonite, the kind that would bring Marc to his knees, quite literally.

Marc stood, holding you steady as your leg slipped off his shoulder and you lost your balance. Grabbing a nearby stool, he lifted you swiftly onto the edge of it, wedging himself between your open legs, the tip of his weeping cock nudging your slick opening. He held himself there for a moment, his hands on your hips, steadying you, his eyes holding yours as you wriggled, chest heaving, on the verge of begging for him to fill you.

“Say it again,” Marc’s eyes, dark with lust, held yours and you complied.

“Fuck. Me.” You breathed the words, low and clear, his thumb rubbing through your folds rhythmically, “please.”

Marc didn’t need to be told twice, his hips thrusting up into you, his length filling you as you gasped. Each thrust pulled him out nearly all the way, the long strokes, paired with the pressure of his pubic bone send you cascading over the edge. Marc wasn’t far behind, his pulsing cock emptying inside of you as you squeezed around him and you both breathed out the sounds of release.

“Well—” you sighed, content as you carefully balanced on the edge of the stool, your breathing evening out as Marc stood before you naked, still erect. “I think we’re definitely going to be late now.”

“Fashionably late?” Marc shrugged, bending to gather the forgotten towel off the floor. As he straightened, he stepped up to the counter, reaching across to grab the bouquet of flowers. “At least we have these and the—” Marc’s hand swept across the counter, misjudging the distance between him and the pie box.

The low thud of the pink box, pie still inside, hitting the tiled floor in the kitchen quickly wiped away the post-sex haze and you looked up at Marc, his eyes shifting to the floor and back to you, apologetically.

You shifted your weight as you and Marc stood on your parents’ porch, catching your breath after rushing from the car. Marc adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, still looking annoyingly put together despite the… delay. A delay that lead you to be a whole two hours late, between that and the pie clean up.

Meanwhile, you were still hoping no one would notice the hastily fixed flyaways in your hair or the slight flush on both your faces. You had left the skirt at home, put on some panties and changed into a more family appropriate green dress.

“You ready?” you asked, glancing at him, the glow of the yellowed porch light catching the angles on his face. “Remember, if my cousin Alex asks you about anything to do with his Art History classes, it’s okay to let Steven take the wheel for a bit…”

Marc smirked, his eyes raking over you appreciatively in a way that always made you feel loved. “More than ready. But next time, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t start something when there’s a ticking clock involved.”

You gave him a pointed look, though your lips twitched with amusement. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“You were wearing that skirt. I think you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into,” he teased, leaning in for a quick peck, “it’s not like you tried to stop me.”

Before you could retort, the door swung open.

“Finally!” your mom exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. “I thought I was going to have to start without you.” Her eyes lit up as she took Marc in. “And this must be Marc.”

Marc straightened, offering his hand with a charming smile. Oh good, he was trying the Steven approach first before laying into the smolder. “It’s great to finally meet you, Mrs—”

“Oh, none of that Mrs. nonsense,” your mom blustered, swatting his hand away to pull him into a hug instead. Marc stiffened for a beat before relaxing into it, casting you a slightly wide-eyed look over her shoulder.

Your mom pulled back, beaming. “I’ve heard so much about you. Now, come in, come in! Dinner’s almost ready, and everyone’s starving. Where’s that pie you were bringing?”

You froze for half a second before slipping seamlessly into a casual smile. “The pie?”

“Yes, the pie,” your mom said, hands on her hips. “Pumpkin, wasn’t it? You said you’d bring it. You texted me about it this afternoon—”

Marc opened his mouth to speak, but you jumped in, shooting him a sly grin. “Oh, uh—there was a pie shaped accident… a tragic end, really. I was really proud of the way it turned out too.”

“Tragic end?” your mom repeated, eyebrows arching.

Marc cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly to fill the gap. “Completely my fault, actually. I wasn’t paying attention, and it ended up on the floor. I promise to make it up to you—I’ve got a knack for desserts. Next time, I’ll bake something myself.”

Your mom looked between the two of you, her lips twitching as though she didn’t quite buy the story but wasn’t going to press. “Well, accidents happen,” she said, waving it off. “But next time, you’re on pie duty, Marc.”

Marc smiled, his charm dialed up to full. “It’s a deal.”

As your mom led the way to the dining room, you leaned into Marc, whispering, “Nice save.”

“You owe me,” Marc smirked down at you, his hand brushing the small of your back.

“Pretty sure you’re the one who owes me, pie destroyer.”

His low chuckle followed you both into the warm chaos of Thanksgiving dinner.

Tags: @silvernight-m

A/N: i make all the banners and dividers myself. if you want to be tagged - hmu here

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #moon knight smut #marvel smut #november prompts #pumpkin pie #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #smut #moon boys x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant smut

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itsanerdlife · 2 months ago

Text

Rumors

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

The struggle of living in a small town, rumors run faster than the truth ever could.

“Nah, swear up and down, blue in the face, she was with Rogers last night.”

“Saw her car leaving Rogers’ drive around one this morning.”

“Your girl was with your best friend all night? Man, that ain’t right.”

Four years down the drain. The only woman he could ever love, caught with his best friend. World shattering news coming from around the small town they grew up in. Losing his best friend and the love of his life.

Packing up his truck he didn’t bother to say goodbye to anyone. Leaving behind his phone and no note of where he would be going.

Without waiting to hear the news.

Without confronting either of them.

Three years later

“Don’t forget to sign the card on the counter.” I call into the kitchen, at the two brothers making breakfast.

“On it!” Howie calls back.

“Sign my name too.” I hear Peter comment.

“We might be twins, but I’m not forging your signature asshole.” Howie retorts.

Shaking my head, I continue to grab up baby toys off the floor, tossing them into the toy bin on the edge of the rug.

“Ohhhhhh.” AJ coos at his uncles.

“Yeah, no cussing in front of the baby.” Peter scolds Howie. “Tell uncle Howie, he’s being bad.” Peter snickers.

“Naughty.” AJ agrees.

“Don’t teach him anything more damaging, I already have to explain the peeing outside thing to Miss. Ivy, he peed in her potted plants outside her shop.” I huff, coming into the kitchen with them.

Both my brothers cringe, AJ grins proudly.

Jet black hair cut short, dark blue eyes, chunky cheeks from baby fat still. He’s a smaller version of his father almost to the T. Aside from the darkness of his blue eyes.

The father that left town without a word. Without a second thought. Without knowing about him. Small town rumors and he split without even a goodbye.

Fuck Bucky.

He missed out.

I smile at my son. Who grins back.

“Momma, we, we, we go to Nana’s today?” He asks excitedly.

“We’re going to Papa’s shop and than you’ll go home with Nana tonight.” I nod, reminding him.

“Momma work tonight?” His head tips.

“Yeah, momma works tonight.” I sigh, shrugging. “But that means, I wake up in the morning and we’ll have a big family breakfast with your uncles and your nana and papa.” I remind him.

“I spend the night with Papa?” He lights up.

“Don’t you let him teach you no more bad habits. He’s still in trouble for teaching you to burp your ABC’s.” I give him a stern look.

“So gross.” Howie sighs.

“I puked on G.” AJ admits, his little shoulders coming up to his ears.

“We remember little man.” Peter chuckles.

AJ goes about eating his eggs and toast.

“No burping.” Howie points a finger at him. AJ sighs in disappointment. I snort into my coffee cups, rolling my eyes.

------

“How old is he now?” Gwen the other bartender grins at the photo on my phone.

“We’re turning three in two weeks.” I grin as I lock my phone and slip it into my back pocket.

“Feels like just last week Peter was running around with newborn photos and listing off his stats like he was the hottest rookie to come off the bench.” She laughs, grabbing three beers from the cooler.

“He still does that, let’s not pretend he didn’t want to throw a party cause AJ was successfully potty trained at sixteen months.” Shaking my head, I rinse the cocktail shaker out in the sink under the bar.

“I mean at least he’s not missing out on any love.” She gives me a soft smile.

Nodding slowly. Only a few people actually knew who AJ’s father was. Most people still decided to believe and fuel the rumor mill.

“Yup. Guess good enough is enough.” I nod, my tone slightly bitter. I can’t help it. I hate it, but I can’t help it.

AJ was missing out, because his father chose to believe the rumor mill of our small town instead of trusting me.

Friday nights I worked the night shift at the bar, to help pad out being a single mom and keeping my kid comfortable.

It’s a typical Friday in the bar.

A familiar laugh, slithers down my spine.

“Damn been a long time since we’ve seen your ugly mug.” Sam Wilson greets someone.

The laugh comes again. “Life was good without seeing your big ass forehead.”

My heart races, palms slick, my chest grows tight.

“Y/N?” Gwen is watching me. My whole body jumps, causing me to drop a beer bottle. It shatters, the noise gaining attention.

“Fuck.” I shuffle back.

My eyes connect with winter blue ones, watching me. Shocked to see me. A flicker of anger still there.

“Oh honey, are you okay?” My head snaps to the side. My mom, Pepper Stark stands in the opening to the back, with my son on her hip.

“Mom?” I blink at her.

“I know I normally call, but he had a full melt down about going to bed without a kiss from you.” She bounces AJ on her hip. He’s tucked against her.

“Oh I’m so sorry.” I turn hurrying to scoop him up.

“Always night, night kisses.” He mumbles, completely distraught.

“Yes, always. I know, I know.” I squeeze him to me, kissing him over and over on his cheeks and forehead. Finally, he starts to giggle as I sway with him.

“Better?” I ask him. He nods slowly, still snuggled into me.

“Who that momma?” He wonders, looking down at him, he’s peeked up, watching someone off to the side.

Looking over, I find what has my son’s attention, not what, but who.

Bucky.

Staring at us.

“Mom, take him.” I hurry handing back my son to my mother. “No more fussing, go to bed like a big boy for Nana.” I lean in kissing him. He huffs but nods.

“Night momma.” He pouts.

“Night baby.” I give a small wave as my mother hurries away with my son.

“Y/N?” He’s suddenly right at the bar. Sucking in a deep breathe. I shift to face the man that abandoned me and his son. His jet black hair a little shaggy, scruffy jaw line, and wide winter blue eyes.

“What do you want James?” I snap at him.

“Is that, that my son?” He points towards where my mother had been standing.

“No that’s my son.” I correct him.

“Y/N? Seriously.” He stares at me.

“Why don’t you go listen to the rumor mill to find out.” I sneer at him. I stalk away, leaving him standing there.

-------- Everything Peaches 9/21/24 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @babizza @coley0823 @royal-sunflower @camelliasblossom @shinycupcakebaker @purpleeclipseeggsland @daughterofthenight117 @hisredheadedgoddess28

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @jbbarnesgirl @kaylaphantomhive

#Marvel #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Avengers #Bucky x Reader #Marvel Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes One Shot #Avengers Fanfiction #Bucky AU One Shot

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delimeats-000 · 5 months ago

Text

Hot and Bothered

matt sturniolo x reader

warning: rough car sex

note: idk man i hope u like it ☠️

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

“ooouu you look hot!!” nick says to me as i walk into the living room.

i do a little spin before facing him again, “thaaanks”

“of course-” he starts talking but matt cuts him off.

“who are you trying to dress up for?”

“no one matthew, we’re going to a party.” i give him attitude knowing that it will only rile him up more.

rolling his eyes he gets up from the couch and goes to his room. minutes later chris is ready to leave and im told to go get matt.

walking into his room i see him sitting at his desk, legs spread as he scrolls through tiktoks. i can’t lie he looks good dressed in all black, but i can’t give in. i have to tease him a little.

“like what you see?” he cuts off my thoughts smiling.

“you wish, we’re ready to leave.”

“you’re really gonna go out looking like that?”

he walks closer to me, now inches away “like what?”

“like a slut.” he whispers.

i grab him by the shirt pulling him in, his jaw drops open and he looks down at me with a growing smirk.

“watch your mouth matthew.” i let go and walk out of the room, leaving him there in shock.

we all pile into the car and head to the party, after being there for a little we all split up into our own groups. out on the floor dancing with some random guy i lock eyes with matt across the room. can of root beer in his hand slightly getting crushed by his tightening grip on it.

i wink at him before turning to the guy i’m dancing with. i grab his hand and turn around, ass pressed against his dick. i begin slowly grinding on him and he grabs my waist with his free hand still dancing along.

i look over to where matt just was and he’s gone now. just then i feel a hand grab mine pulling me out of the crowd.

“MATT” i try getting him to let go.

“we’re leaving.” he almost growls in response.

“no i’m not, get off.”

“fine.” he turns to me, “go ahead and continue dancing on other guys like a whore all night.” he lets go but this time i grab ahold of him.

"are you jelous"

i watch as his adams apple bobs up and down "no" ignoring his blatant lie i drag him to the car, now i can feel myself pooling between my legs.

“open it.” he unlocks the door climbing in the back seat. i follow behind him slamming the door shut before jumping top of him immediately attaching my lips to his.

the kiss is sloppy and wet, the sounds of our lips lapping together only turn me on more. i feel his bulge growing under me, prompting me to grind my hips down onto him.

he lets out soft groan reaching his hands from my waist to my ass, trying to move me faster. i let go of the kiss and he whines. “you’ve been so mean matthew, calling me names.”

“not my fault you dressed like a little slut.”

i slap him across the face, “say it again.”

he looks me dead in the eyes and smiles, “slut.”

i try to grab him by the face, but he grabs my wrist holding tightly. he begins pulling off my dress and i allow him to pull it over my head.

“such a little whore, pretending you don’t want me.” he says free hand rubbing my clit through my underwear, “but you’re so wet for me. why dont you make up for all the teasing?”

i immediately pull his boxers down and his dick springs up, he whines out and the air touching his sensitive length. i grip him spitting right on the tip and rub it in with my thumb “fuck more- i need more”

i slowly stroke him up and down before speeding up, precum drips onto my hand and he cries out. “so close baby, makin me feel so good.”

with that i take him all in my mouth at once bobbing my head rapidly. i gag on him which only causes him to push me down further.

then without warning he grabs me by my hair and pulls me off. “ride me like the slut you are, lemme fill you up.”

“yes matt please” he smiles at the name.

"being such a good girl now." he holds my face gently by my chin only to kiss me just as rough as before.

he holds me by the waist guiding me to hover over his erection. slowly, he slides it. it hurt, but not for long.

"fuck baby like heaven"

"matt fuck- let me move" stil holding my waist he lifts me up and down with ease.

"so wet pretty girl i knew you liked me"

"matt shut up-"

he drops me onto his dick quickly and i let out a scream, "watch yourself baby."

he continues bouncing me on his cock, running his tongue down my neck at the same time drives shivers down my spine and into my leaking cunt.

i pulse around him gaining groans from matt in return, he fuck into me harder and sloppier. my back arched i can feel myself about to cum.

"matt please- fuck dont stop" he carries the same speed hitting all the right places.

"gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill you up so good"

"yes matt please please cum with me"

i feel his release his hot sticky liquid into me, it drips down my leg and im still in his lap.

he lifts my head from his chest to look at him, with a peck on the lips he says "you get me too hot and bothered"

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

alr, love ya to bits 🫀

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sparklyskies0 · 6 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

‘No, I wanna see you undress now

I wanna hear you confess now, ’

( 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 ) y/n and chris have hated each other for as long as they can remember. Never minding the lingering tension that fills up the room whenever they’re together. When chris and y/n get into a heated argument about her new boyfriend that he quite obviously doesn’t seem to approve of, there’s nothing more left to say and everything becomes a blur.

warnings : poc!reader, angry drunk unprotected sex, fem receiving(oral sex!), dom!chris, glass breaking, scratching/blood, cursing, etc..

It was friday night, rainy and humid. Nothing but wet trees and fog filled the hot air. Y/n spent the night sneaking into clubs with her friends and drinking. Not all her friends, if you include chris sturniolo. Her worst enemy. For as long as she can remember, she’s always hated him, she doesn’t quite remember why or when it started. Possibly sometime during high school, she just recalls chris hating her so it’s only fair to hate him back, right?. Point is─ if it weren’t for them sharing the same friend group y/n would never be seen in the same room as chris sturniolo.

Y/n was drunk out of her mind, Every step she took almost resulted in her face first on the wet concrete floor. She can usually handle her liquor, but tonight was a complete different story. As fun as a night out with friends was for y/n, things got cut short when her new boyfriend troy decided to pick a fight. Causing a mild scene at the club getting her and all that came with, kicked out. In her defense, it was her first night out with him. Their relationship is fresh and the getting-to-know stage is still in effect, she had no idea he was a reckless drunk that hates when his partner is enjoying herself. And just as if her night couldn’t get any worse, her friends all piled up in two cars leaving y/n, alone with hers. Considering she was under the influence her friends leave her favorite person in the whole world to drive her home, chris.

The car ride was silent, the sound of the car air conditioner, filling it. Y/n sighed as she sat in the passenger seat of her own car , looking out of the window. The view was blurry as drops of rain and steam covered the glass. y/n glanced at the boy to her left, his one hand on the steering wheel while the other is rested beside him. Chris feels her eyes on him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He comes to a stop at a red light, still feeling the girls eyes pierce into him. He double takes, “what?” his voice toned with clear annoyance. y/n shook her head, shrugging off her thoughts. “just can’t believe you’re driving my car.” the girl spoke with a sigh.

“yea, well you’re too wasted to drive”

“you’re boyfriend could’ve drove you if he wasn’t such a bitch and left”

y/n groans, here he goes

she rested her head on her hands, leaning closer to the window. she rolled her eyes in annoyance at the boy in the drivers seat.

“fuck off, we got kicked out” she defended

“because of him.” he protested. The light turned green, he glanced at the girl, the most irritated expression ever on his face and he resumed driving.

“all im saying is, you’re dating a piece of shit” he adds. This, is when y/n began to take offense.

“chris you don’t even know him.” she sits up

“neither do you!” chris announced

“isn’t this like you’re—what, second date?!”

y/n grew irritated, tired of the boy trying to tell her who she does and doesn’t know, no matter if he’s right.

“ he has to be the biggest asshole I have ever seen” he provokes. “clearly you haven’t seen yourself” y/n speaks, frustration in her voice

chris’s rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to her for a split second. “oh really?” he scoffs “god, you’re the worst asshole on the planet, chris!” y/n says, now enraged

“oh fuck you” chris curses

“no, chris—fuck you”

After those last words, nothing else was said. Y/n quietly took pride in having the last word, which she usually does. chris approaches her driveway and stops. y/n opens her car door immediately getting out. sighing of instant relief of being released from the tight space that she shared with chris sturniolo. the drive couldn’t have been longer.

due to lack of standing on her feet, y/n almost feels herself fall. stumbling but catching herself, she cursed. chris, exited the car shortly after. closing the door, he glanced up sighing to himself at the girl carefully walking to her front door.

he caught up to her, stepping to the side as she takes out her keys from her clutch, opening her door. Walking in she lets out a small sigh. Switching the light on revealing her living room. Chris closed the door behind him. “you didn’t have to walk me inside” y/n turned around, almost forgetting the boy was with her.

“do you not see yourself? you can barely walk” chris says smartly “god can you not be an asshole for one second” y/n spats

“i’m not a fucking kid, you don’t need to watch me or follow me around”

chris lets out a scoff, “no, but you’re someone who makes stupid fucking decisions like a kid” he responds “exhibit A” he points to the nightstand in her living room , a framed picture of y/n and troy on their first date, a gift he gave her.

“oh my fucking god chris! what is your problem” y/n exclaimed, “ever since i started seeing him you’ve been even more of a dick than you usually are and i’ve been trying to go with it but it’s just annoying now!”

“I just thought you were smarter, you know”

“if there was anyone I expected you to be with it would not be someone like him” he exclaimed back

“why the fuck do you care? why is that any of your business?!” she shouted out. The living room filled with silence . “who i date is absolutely none of your concern. so you can take your fuck ass opinion and shove it up you─” her words were cut off by chris slamming his lips into hers .

it happened too fast for her to process it. Chris pulled away, his face hot and almost, greedy. y/n looked into his eyes. She didn’t know what was happening, or why he just did that. She doesn’t know why she wants more. Grabbing the back of his head she pulls him back in. The kiss was hot, their mouths moving along each other, chris’s tongue demanding entry against her lips. y/n opened, letting him in. Muffled moans filled the room. Their tongues fighting for dominance.

chris removed his lips from hers allowing them both to catch a breath. He traced kisses along her jaw. They unknowingly ended up backed up against the wall in her living room, by her front door. Y/n lifted her head up, giving him full access to her neck. her eyes closed shut, biting her lip. she grabbed the sides of his face guiding him back up to her face, wanting more of his lips on hers. Chris bit her lip, his right arm stretched over her head, keeping himself supported as her back placed against the cold wall.

he pulled her leather jacket off throwing it to the ground, revealing her red lace top. His hands snaked down to her ass hoisting her up and on the nightstand beside them. After setting her down, his free hand grabbed something pushing it off leaving more room on the stand. As the object hit the ground, glass shattered. The two broke the kiss at the sound, looking down. “chris…” y/n says looking down at the picture frame with the glass the protected it, shattered. Chris looked back up, making eye contact with the girl. He shrugged and pressed his lips back on hers.

As he trailed kisses along her lips and neck. he grabbed the straps of her red top pulling them down slowly. From y/n’s pov, he looked majestic. As he stood in between her legs , lips between his teeth sexily undressing her upper half. Her breast were set free. The cool light in the room reflected beautifully on her now bare, caramel skin.

“fuck” he breathed, his face low

he did not hesitate to take all of her left boob in his mouth, his tounge swirled around her now hard nipples. The right not being left out for too long, and he sucked it hungrily, gripping the other.

y/n moaned out, the vibrations and pleasure as he stimulates her breasts with his mouth and hands taking over. she could cum just like this if he keeps it up.

“fuck, chris”

chris then trailed kisses all over her body. when he made his way down her stomach, her back arched.

chris stopped at the hem of her skirt. Who knew wearing a skirt despite the horrible weather will come in handy for y/n?

he looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. y/n looked down at him. moaning at the sight.

his eyes are so pretty and blue, why hasn’t she noticed this before?

not letting another second pass, chris slipped her skirt off throwing it down. Her black lace underwear now in clear view. Y/n’s breath hitched. Feeling her juices soak the fabric guarding what chris wanted most. she wonders if he can tell how wet she is.

chris grazed his fingers along her wet pussy. her underwear practically drenched. “look how wet you are for me” he speaks, kind of like a whisper

he traces his fingers along her folds threw her panties. her eyes fighting roll to the back of her head at the sensation.

it was as if something took ahold of chris, because his once slow and sensual acts became merely greedy and harsh. He ripped the fabric off and dove his face into her cunt.

this took y/n by surprise as she shoots up and gasps. the feeling of his tongue on her pussy sending vibrations and shivers down her spine. her now rosy cheeks, flushed.

his hands grabbed the sides of her waist. The girl a moaning mess in front of him. “shit, chris—fuck” she moaned, her fingers ran throw his brunette silky hair

Chris flickered his tounge up and down her pussy, moaning against it. The girls moans got louder. He sucked and circled around her sensitive clit.

“fuck, you taste so good” he came up for air. the girl practically whimpered. how the fuck did she get here? home late on a friday night drunk as chris sturniolo eats her out..

Chris worked his tongue some more as y/n got closer and closer “chris im gonna—” the girl moaned out, her breathing got heavy as she felt the tight pit in her stomach grow. Those words were affirmations of encouragement for chris, making him go faster. The girls moaning stopped for a split second, her mouth gaping open into an ‘0’ shape as her climax took over

she groaned biting her lip, chris stood down there assisting her through her high. she pants massaging the top of his head as that’s all that she can see of him right now. he lifts his head up, feeling accomplished. his mouth area glossy with her juices. He stands up slamming his lips into hers. she tastes herself on his lips moaning into the kiss. chris hands placed on both sides of her face. as the kiss grew more, he hand made its way to the back of her head, running his hands through her curly black hair.

y/n looked at him. her doe eyes, needing him. her hands trailed his body. she reached the bottom of his t-shirt lifting it over him. she kissed his collar bones and neck. her free hands snaking into his pants, grabbing ahold of his bulge in his boxers. he winces and moans. “fuck me..” she whispers looking him in the eye. chris, tempted but shook his head “you’re drunk” he states.

“that didn’t stop you before” she moaned to him. their faces inches apart, every time they speak, their mouths brush one another. chris looked down at her lips. biting his “what?.. you scared?” she taunts , a hum leaving her lips as she bit them

chris took that as a challenge. even when intimate they can’t seem to not tease each other.

chris immediately unbuckled his belt bringing down his pants, leaving his underwear, y/n grabbed a handful of his cock once again stroking it through his underwear. Chris moaned, burying his head down into her neck, his warm breath on her shoulders. he placed light bites along them. y/n slipped off his boxers as his cock sprung out. She moaned at the sight, he’s bigger than she imagined─hold up . she imagined the size of chris sturniolo’s cock?

she continued to stroke his dick, using his precum and some spit as lube.

she bit her lip harshly as she aligned him up with her entrance. he slid into her, slowly at first, then he slid back out. And slammed back in.

He thrusted in and out of her roughly. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck for support. Sounds of skin clapping together and moans filled the home. Chris growled, removing her hands from around him pinning them above her head. the look on his face seeming familiar. like hate

this man was hate fucking her. and she loved every minute of it

chris let go of one of her hands as he wraps his tightly around her neck. he pulls her closer to him, chests pressed against each other. His left arm still pinning her right arm over her, while his right hand grips her neck. she threw her right leg over his shoulder as her left remained wrapped around him, her left remaining arm keeping her supported. she moaned loudly “holy shit chris fuck fuck fuck!”

her eyes rolled back. chris never shifted his gaze even a little bit, taking in every facial expression she makes. not wanting to miss the proof of how he’s making her feel.

“you like that, huh?” chris moans out

“like when im fucking you”

they held eye contact the whole time, y/n practically feeling her climax approaching just by his words.

chris let’s go of her neck , grabbing her legs returning them back around his waist. Y/n’s arms reached for his back. pulling him closer. Chris moaned into her ear “fuck, you feel so good. so.fucking.tight” he groans. He doesn’t know if he can hold on any longer. He speeds up, the clapping sounds intensify.

drowning in pleasure, y/n digs her nails into chris’s back. Chris winces, but found pleasure in the pain. biting his lip. “fuck, chris! just like that don’t stop”

“don’t stop” she repeats. digging her nails deeper. covering his back with scratches

chris goes faster, he can feel her juices building up.

y/n can feel chris’s cock twitching inside of her signaling how close he is.

“look at me, look at me while you cum on my cock baby” chris presses his forehead against hers. his hair dripping with sweat. Y/n obeys, staring deep into his eyes. she no longer sees the guy that she hates, she sees someone who is making her feel like she’s never felt before.

the room got quiet, nothing but the sound of chris’s thrusts getting sloppier.

chris gasps , groaning loudly as his cock twitches. releasing his warm load inside of her. While at the same time, y/n’s eyebrows raised as her mouth gaped open, an inaudible moan leaving her mouth. her eyes rolled back. she gained her voice back in pants. “oh my god” she breaths out. out of breath. her legs tremble in sensitivity as chris thrusts slowly through her high. Chris brought his face to hers attaching their lips. This kiss was sloppy, tired and full of hatred?.

Y/n moaned into it. Chris pulled away, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of her, his cum dripping down her thigh. They both look down, watching it.

Both a sweaty, sticky , hot mess.

They don’t know where they’ll go from this, they don’t even know if y/n will remember this the next day. But what is known, is that chris sturniolo is the last person on earth that she hates right now.

ᥫ᭡ Authors Note

I can’t tell if i like this or not lmfao

anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this as my first official post/imagine.

sorry if the arguing was bad, I just wanted to get to the damn smut already

be sure to request anything ! i love you💟

xoxo paris

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #enemies to lovers #hate sex #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #ᥫ᭡ sparklyskies0 #ᥫ᭡ ❛ xoxo paris ❜⸊ ᥫ᭡

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xo-codbby · 4 months ago

Text

werewolf!simon x reader 🖤

18+, mdni, sex n the whole lot lolz. first time writing werewolf smut, forgive any mistakes 🫡🫣

"you touch yourself while i was gone, bunny?"

the question had been innocent enough but the way he had you under him in the bed made you shiver in anticipation, body trembling in pure pleasure. deft fingers pry your thighs open, two thick fingers dragging along your slick slit, collecting the honeyed essence on the tips of his fingers. a dark chuckle rolling off his tongue as his hums softly in satisfaction, dark brown eyes burning into yours before your taste dance along his tongue. he lets out a satisfied groan, a thick sound erupting deep from his chest as you watch his face darken in pure lust and love.

his broad frame shivers in delight but this time he has to restrain himself, its already so hard when his cock is aching for some relief. he bends slightly, his tongue trailing up the hollow of your neck as he growls softly collecting your taste to hold close.

"needy for me already, hm? didn't do a thing yet" he blows softly across your waiting cunt, his smile peeking through when he sees your poor neglected pussy twitch just for him. you don't even get to answer before you feel his thick finger slip deep inside you, slowly working and stretching you open. he's absolutely mesmerised by the sight, intently watching how your greedy pussy swallows his finger, revelling in the soft whimper you let out as he goes deeper.

"so tight for me, love. bet your little fingers couldn't stretch you out the way i can, huh?" he slides in another, soaking up the way you cried softly clenching desperately around his thick digits already so overstimulated from not being able to have any relief

"none of tears now, quit that crying baby" he coos softly, his face bending slightly as his nose brushes against your clit making you buck your hips

"feels s'good si" you murmur breathlessly trying to rock your hips against his hand only causing him to chuckle, gently tutting his tongue. he only lets his fingers do the work, curling upwards making you groan softly. you knew he was still pissed from earlier, back when he saw a recruit around you. it was bad enough he agitated from the loss of the mission but seeing you give a hug to the other man had set him off and you found yourself in his barracks with him reminding you just who owned you like this

"wonder if that bastard thinks he could get you like this" simon hissed out softly, retracting his fingers looking at your flushed face. the sight makes him so possessive, he's half determined just to fuck you in front of the recruit so he knows not to mess with his woman. but the other half is too selfish, not wanting to share with another man just how pretty you sound.

"si pleas-" your sentence gets cut off with a moan as he finally gives in, big hands wrapped around your thighs his thick tongue lapping against your opening before splitting you open drinking up your slick. it's all too much and not enough, he's mindful not to hurt you but the urge to claim you only grows higher. his hips rut against the mattress desperately, grunting into your cunt as he sucks on your clit

he doesn't let up his assault between your legs, the beast in him not satisfied even as his teeth scraped your skin gently leaving soft bruises against your skin. he usually would've let you cum a few times on his hands before he works you on his knot but tonight he feels needy, feels agitated still at the other man who had his filthy hands all over you

you were right on the edge, every nerve in your body set ablaze by the man between your legs. your body curls as he draws out your orgasm but he doesn't let you cum, not just yet anyway. he manhandles your body, pulling you up against his chest as the other shreds his trousers off shrugging them somewhere in the depths of the room

"mine. you're fucking mine, you understand that don't you?" every word is enunciated with a soft kiss as you nod quickly hands grasping on his chest feeling the muscles twitch under your touch eliciting a soft growl from his throat. you feel the head of his cock against your entrance as you gasp softly, legs shaking slightly as you breathe shakily

"it won't fit-" "i'll make it fucking fit, love"

the last bit of his resolve shatters, completely driven by his innate instinct to satisfy you. to mate you, to claim you. he roughly grabs you by your hips, lining himself up before pushing deep inside you, stretching you open and laying you bare. your walls hugged around his weeping cock, aching with pure need as he pulls you further on him.

his calloused hands smooth over your body, across your skin reverently for his own peace of mind that you really were in his arms. he adores how easily you seem to fall apart in his grasp, his thumb grazing over your nipples enjoying how you pressed up against him

he thrusts back into your needy cunt, feeling him twitch and pulse inside you as you moaned softly in his arms. barely able to support yourself as he holds you caging you between his muscles and the bed. desperately rutting himself into you to prove to you how devoted he was, how he was yours just as much as you were his.

"look how pretty y'look sucking up my cock, lovie. s'fuckin gorgeous" he pants, words slurred completely drunk on your taste and feel of you. completely lost in the way your warm walls flutter around him, coaxing him to drive further into you. it had been days since he wwas able to have you and now that he was nearing the months where he'd go into heat, he found it hard to compose himself like he usually could

"m'gonna cum baby" he moans causing you to cling onto him, both of you lost in ecstasy. his senses are in overdrive, hips sloppily moving as he captures your lips against his groaning at the taste of you. you can feel him grow needy, stretching you over his thick knot that was already swelling. his release on the cusp but he refused to let go until you were with him, until you were properly claimed

"need to cum" you whimper back and it's only when your ankles loop around his back that he loses his composure, rutting into you like the depraved animal he was. he drives you closer, deeper, your senses completely overpowered just as his were

with one last deep thrust, ghost pushes his knot burying it deep inside you both as he sends the pair of you over the edge. it's thicker than you remember, bigger than you thought but somehow he managed to make it fit like he promised. he spills into you, not willing to let you come down from your high as he humps into you. a soft groan as his face settles in the crook of your neck, stroking your back softly his hands steadying your waist his cock trying to bury deep inside your willing hole.

"y'did so good f'me lovie" he kisses your skin, gazing down at you with pure adoration you've never been loved so tenderly like this before. there you were sprawled out on his knot, in his arms, against him safe and sound. he might've been a beast to others, untamed and unrule but to you he was your simon. your sweet man who'd maim and kill for you

"i love you" your voice is so soft, you both weren't going anywhere tonight. he needed this just as much as you did, your body against his as he lazily tugs the covers around you both pressing soft kisses up your neck and cheek.

"i love you" he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, settling down once more as he pulled you close to his chest. the soft beat of his heart lulling you asleep, his warmth better than any blanket could provide you with. you know deep down its only a matter of time before you both go af it again but until then you rest up, cuddling close to the man you loved deeply more than anything.

i kinda gave up halfway through this LMAO my bad hope you enjoyed !

#simon riley x y/n #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader smut #werewolf!ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost smut

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mythicmanuscripts · 6 months ago

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Had a thought inspired by sub!Aegon being called a good boy combined with my idea that Aegon could be fixed if he just had a soft dom partner. Maybe he lashes out at a problem and just being a brat instead of saying his true feelings so they punish him (lightly no pain Bois been thought enough) and then coax him through explaining why he was upset.

I love how we have all come to the mutual conclusion that Aegon would just thrive on having a wife that doms him and cares for him and gives him not only love but also structure.

I think I'm gonna write this as Aegon's first punishment? Like he and his wife have finally had a talk and he's now hers fully, no more brothels and he goes to her for everything.

This ask is not at all NSFW until the very last paragraph, so just to safe I'll hide it under the cut anyway :))

Aegon has rules he has to follow, rules that only you and him know and he feels so incredibly good when he can go to you and tell you he's been a good boy all day. But of course, the rules are rules because they're not things he does naturally or easily.

One of the rules he has is not to allow his mother to get into his skin and cause him to yell at his small council. It's something Allicent is a specialist at, she'll come to Aegon before the council meeting starts and sow the seeds then already. She tells him of whatever problem she's going to bring up at the small council, and she tells him what she wants him to do.

Immediately Aegon breaks a rule. He's not supposed to entertain this. If his mother has something to raise at the small council. then she must raise it then. He's supposed to tell her to stop talking and that he'll only hear it at the council with everyone else. But he doesn't. He tries, but she talks over him and Aegon doesn't try to stop her again.

So he's already unsettled when the council meeting starts, because he knows he's broken a rule. You sit on his council, of course, you have the seat at his right hand. When you enter the room, you immediately know Aegon has done something wrong. Usually his eyes light up when he spots you, and he'll immediately jump up and pull your chair out for you.

(Sidenote: both Aegon and Aemond always try to pull their wives chairs out for them, but the difference is that while Aemond is all put together as he pulls your chair and stands next to it with perfect posture, Aegon is such a mess, practically tripping over his own feet to have an opportunity to do something for his wife.)

So when you walk in Aegon won't even meet your eyes? You know he must have broken a rule.

He's skittish throughout the meeting, snapping at his advisors, refusing to let anyone finish a full sentence and just generally being very grumpy and unhappy. Towards the end of the meeting, Allicent finally raises the point she raised with Aegon earlier.

She explains everything, and the table is pretty split on the idea. She then looks directly at Aegon and just waits, even raising her eyebrow when aegon was taking too long. It's then that you realise she must have told him everything beforehand and now expects him to agree with her.

When he hesitates, Allicent immediately launches into exactly why this plan is needed and the way she does it is just so... condescending? Like she's looking down on her own son.

Aegon snaps then, yelling at everyone to get out and saying he won't comment on Allicent's plan. When no one moves, he throws his glass of wine against the wall and shouts again for everyone to leave. That seemed to wake them all up, because they all got up and left the room. Allicent was the last to leave, and she was clearly lingering to try and speak to Aegon but Aegon just yells at her again and she leaves.

You, of course, stay right where you are. You don't even try to look like you're leaving. You know Aegon didnt mean you when he told everyone to get out but even if he did, you'd still stay because you knew he needed you.

But, he's now broken three rules. He let Allicent get into his head, he broke something in anger and he disrespected the other small council members.

You wait for him to start talking, and for a moment you actually think he might yell at you to leave too, but then he just kinda sighs and walks over to you. He pulls your chair out a little and then collapses across your lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. You hold him close, of course. Even when he's broken rules, you'd never deny him attention and touches.

You ask what happened, and you make sure your tone is firm enough that Aegon knows he can't get out of this one. After a minute of silence, Aegon softly retells the story of how Allicent came in and belittled him and got under his skin and how he didnt kick her out or refuse to hear it. He goes on to explain how stupid and small he felt when Allicent clearly expected him to agree with her in the meeting and he felt so bad and didnt know what he was supposed to do.

You give him a forehead kiss and a little squeeze, thanking him for his honesty and then taking him back to your shared quarters.

I think really boring, monotonous tasks would be the best punishment for Aegon? Ever since his brothel excursions he can't stand pain, and having to do something boring really does feel like torture for him. Sometimes you'll have him take every item of clothing out of your closet, refold it and put it back in, other times you make him write out lines or copy word for word all the words listed in a dictionary under a certain letter.

This time, you grab a broom and make him count every single one of the bristles. If he loses track, he has to start over.

Needless to say, he's not very happy about his punishment, but he doesn't complain. He already feels like such a bad husband a bad sub, so he'd never complain about what he has to do to become a good boy again.

You stay in the room with him, reading a book and glancing over at him every now and then. You'd never ever let him be alone while he completed his punishment.

Once he's finished, you smile at him and put your book down before opening your arms for him to come for cuddles. He jumps at the chance, just about tripping over his own feet in his haste to be in your arms. The moment he's there, he grips you tight and nuzzles his head against your neck.

You start out by asking him why he broke those rules, what stopped him from following them. Aegon struggles to find the words, until eventually he just says that Allicent makes him freeze and feel like a little kid again who can't make his own decisions. He explains further how overwhelmed and unsettled he was at the meeting and how that caused the outburst.

When he's finished explaining, you immediately give him a little squeeze and kiss his head and then both his cheeks, You remind him how much you love him and how utterly perfect he is for you and then you start to go over some ways you could possibly prevent him from breaking that rule again.

But most importantly, once that is done you give him a proper kiss and tell him that he's forgiven, he's okay again, he's till your good boy.

Of course this never fails to make him cry, but you expect that by now and know that the best thing you can do it just give him a little time to calm down while you hold him.

When he looks ups at you it's like you can see that a weight has been lifted off shoulders. Not only do you forgive him, but he forgives himself too.

And then of course you can't resist slipping a hand down his breeches and letting him come apart on your lap. He deserves it.

#sub!aegon #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon smut #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd

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musicalsiphonophore · 4 months ago

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FUN FACT TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, when you eat carbohydrates that cannot easily be broken down (by hydrolysis*) into glucose molecules, they don't get released into glucose molecules in your small intestine as would, for example, simpler sugars like sucrose that is only two monosaccharides (single sugars) long.

This means that these carbohydrates reach your large intestine not fully broken down. So, they tend to be fermented by gut bacteria instead. This has the lovely side effect of making one fart, as well as the genuinely lovely side effect of causing gut bacteria to (A) generally be healthier and (B) produce butanoic acid salts (known as butyrates), which are really important to regulate metabolism, and also produces SCFAs and idk what they do but Wikipedia makes it sound like they're good.

This is also why fibres (which is a broad term including things like cellulose*, so non-starch carbohydrates that aren't as easy to hydrolyse) are good for you - because they are a little bit tougher to digest, so they reach your large intestine where they are fermented by gut bacteria rather than simply instantly getting broken down into glucose the second they encounter a teeny bit of amylase.

But it gets even more interesting than that!

Starches that cannot be easily broken down are called Resistant Starches, right? Resistant starches include amylose. Amylose is a long straight chain of glucose molecules, which contrasts with the other type of starch, amylopectin, which has branches.

Because of its branching, amylopectin has a high surface area to volume ratio, so it is easier to digest. Amylose has a lower surface area to volume ratio so it is roughage and is trickier to digest, so it reaches the large intestine.

Also, in plant cells, starch is often stored in granules. What do we do when we cook food? The heat causes granules to expand, start leaking, or even burst completely, thus making our food easier to digest. It is harder to digest if you have to eat through the granule first before you can even START to break down the polymers. Cooking means that often times, the starch is Literally Right There, so it makes the food much easier to digest.

Anyway, stuff that is Really easy to digest, you get the sugar all at once, so it goes into storage or you get super energetic but it doesn't give you a good lasting amount of energy like slower-releasing starches do.

This all explains... like everything that people say about how you need to eat healthy. (Except for the stupid things like that you need to cut carbs.) It explains why fibre helps digestion, why more complex carbohydrates are often healthier than simple ones like sucrose, WHY WE COOK FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S SO COOL

Explanations for those who are confused by terminology under the cut:

*cellulose is found in cell walls and is a carbohydrate that is really tough since it forms a lattice shape. It is the stuff that makes wood so strong, and also forms part of lignin AKA tree bark.

*Basically, carbohydrates are made of single sugars that bond together by condensation. Condensation reactions are when on the end of two monomers, there is an OH group and an OH group, and then one of the OHs gets removed and another H+ off of the other OH is removed. This means both monomers are then sharing the one oxygen left, and there is a water molecule produced hence the name. Hydrolysis is the inverse of this - when a water molecule is split into OH- and H+ and then it breaks apart a polymer.

#went on a tangent from doing my biology homework #it was fun #biology #siph speask #siph speaks

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addictao3 · 9 days ago

Note

Angel male reader protects 141 with his wings subconsciously. After botched missions, Angel (Ima call him Angel bc I can't be bothered to type Angel male reader all the time) wraps his wings around 141 as much as he can, especially if they've been severely injured

-🌺anon

Hi so like… I might love you 🌺anon…….

Poly Hybrid 141 x Angel M!Reader

I will try my best. But if this sucks!! Don’t blame me if it does. I got like three to four hours of sleep😭😭 #schoolsucksclits BUTTT WE BALL.

⚠️this will contain war and war and blood. And slight blasphemy(he is an angel hybrid after all…..) Okay? Let’s go!!

It was a blood bath. Bad intel, they’ll say after the mission.

There was a fucking traitor. The thought of it ran through your head as you tore through the battle field. None of these weapons could harm you. The soldiers didn’t carry angel bullets, their weapons only causing superficial bruises.

As you tear through a soldier, splitting them in half(and consuming their soul), you hear a sharp pained whine. Your ‘eyes’ snap to the now injured werewolf. You see Price jumping on him blocking the oncoming soldiers with his own good wing, trying to push them away with the fire of his breath.

You can hear Ghost grunt in pain as he is thrown to Soaps side. A knocked out Gaz is tossed next. Guns are on them… you don’t know- fuck. You can hear the head soldier cock his gun.

In a flash you were there. Your wings expand and cover the four, wrapping them in white. You can feel the bullets hit your wings, then feel the pain you recognize. Angel bullets.

Your wings slowly turn red, yet you don’t move. Ghost looks up at you angrily. “Down- come on you’ll loose your wings-.” He says frantically. Trying to convince you, yet he can barely move. You growl.

“You’re my flock. All of you- I can’t,” you wince as a mother angel bullet hits your other wing. It hits an eye, temporarily leaving a blind spot. You grunt in pain. “I won’t loose you.” You hiss out.

“You can’t loose your wings. Please, Angel.” Soap whines. His hand on his side, blood slowly pouring out. You smile softly. “Don’t care.” Simple. Plain. You could’ve said anything else. You could’ve spewed out words of love. Yet they knew you loved them. You would loose your wings for them, the gift given to you by your angel mother.

You can hear the bullets slow down. Then screaming. You don’t move. Becoming a statue. Your other eyes can see a horned figure take out most of the men. He walks closer to you.

“You [Name]?” He asks, his Austrian accent thick. Looking in one of your it eyes. You can see he’s wearing a t-shirt on his head, holes cut for his horns. “Daemon.” You say curtly.

“Laswell contracted us.” The Daemon said. You don’t move. He slowly raises a small paper. It’s a green paper fully signed. Your outer eyes turn a light yellow. It sees the truth.

You slowly move your wings. They retract shakily, still bloodied and wounded. You can see the Daemons comrades pick up your team. You try to move but fall backwards, into the Daemons arms. Your inner angel bristles.

“Calm.” You look up at him. Seeing the slight red in his eyes. “Promise.” You say. His hands goes under the bag and bites his finger. He runs the bloody finger over your wing. It’s a simple blood promise.

“We’ll keep your flock safe Geist.” Then it all faded out.

Hopefully this is what you want 🌺anon!! Hope you enjoy!!

#sub male character #dom male reader #addictwrites<3 #bottom male yandere #cod x male reader #sub!ghost #tf 141 x reader #top male reader #poly tf141 #slight angst #blood

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snowthedemonfox · 4 months ago

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my dumb episode 4 predictions lets go

it's the minimum wage episode

gangle gets to be the manager and thats why jax is gonna have an awful time (also this might be the one episode she gets to keep her comedy mask on for majority of the episode until something goes wrong)

the "Huffing paint, and not waiting until a designated break?!" line IS from gangle and thats why i think she might be the manager for this adventure (some people in the replies of that post were saying the post at one point mentioned gangle as the one saying the line so im just gonna trust their word on this)

there's a karen npc with a child (i think this would be the funniest option for where the "What kind of mother do you think I am?" line comes from)

i think this thing vvvvv is meant to be the karen npcs kid (it looks like orbsman and i wouldnt be surprised if all the customer npcs look similar)

this one is the least serious prediction on this list but if maid outfit jax was gonna happen in any episode i think it'd be this one (something like making a joke bc caine gave him the wrong type of uniform for a split second lmao)

the reason the adventure is a fast food job is because someone said they wished the adventures were a bit more realistic to real life and caine took that seriously and made them all work minimum wage

pomni sets something on fire

theres a bit more discussion about the characters human lives, maybe talking about jobs they previously had? maybe pomni talks abt being an accountant

hopefully we get to see another characters room in the show cause i cant wait to see the full versions of gangle and zoobles rooms

okay this last prediction has an ep 3 spoiler in it so im putting it under the cut

zooble joins in on this adventure because they're the only one (that we know of so far) that is aware that caine doubting himself could be a bad thing so to avoid the circus glitching out again they participate in this adventure (and any future ones throughout the series)

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc episode 4 #arctic fox speaks

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takamimami · 3 months ago

Note

(Angst for the 100 follower event)

Eustass Kidd having a massive argument with us over his temper and how he's too loud and then when we try and get some fresh air we accidentally fall off the ship 🙏 (The last part is a joke-- I was thinking actually like him being in denial about him being too much sometimes which causes him to say shit he did not mean to say!! And then Quincy advises us to dump his ass which we do and then we're both just sad and lonely, then the entire crew goes out drinking completely unaware of what has happened and we get drunk and end up kissing some random guy in front of Kidd and he gets angry then hate sex then apologies then reconciliation!!!)

Yes I am rather drunk whilst I am writing this.

Hello, hello, I have finally shut off my video games long enough to finish this prompt, lol! I giggled out loud when your request came in, just so you know. Additionally, I struggled to combine all three of the prompts you suggested - so I took some creative liberties and split the last two prompts between Kidd and Law. I hope that is alright :3 As promised, this is the smutty pt. 2 to THIS request - still a bit angsty but mostly hurt/comfort with some makeup sex :3 I hope I did your idea justice!!

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - NSFW - "Don't touch me!" (Kidd) and "Please, tell me you're okay." (Law)

STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞

CW: SMUT; dub-con (kidd), possessive and dom kidd vibes, hand necklace (kidd) both of them are meanies :3, spanking (law), law fucks you on his desk, kidd calls you 'princess', crew mate!reader ---word count ~1.8k each

You had managed to avoid your captain for three days, and the crew finally had enough of your moping around the ship on the fourth day when you finally docked at your new destination. They forced convinced to you to get dressed up and come into town with all of them, shoving drink after drink in your face as everyone tries to get you to let loose and enjoy your night. It works for most of the night until you get a little too drunk and end up kissing a random stranger in the middle of the bar, your captain’s eyes angrily watching the entire occurrence and storming off immediately after.

You regret the entire situation the moment you see the hurt in your captain’s eyes, and the alcohol in your veins clouds your better judgment as you take off after him, following after him and his vice-captain as they make their way back to the ship. You sober up slightly on the walk back, and as you approach the gangway you can hear your captain’s angry voice echoing into the night.

🌷

His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it, enough to make you falter a step as you heard him arguing back and forth with Killer as you walked up onto the deck.

“I don’t give a damn how drunk she was,” he seethes, his back facing you as he continues yelling. “She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I want anything to do with a skank like her! She can go whore herself to the whole fucking island, for all I care!”

Your stomach turned at the malice in his tone, and Killer puts his arms up over his head as he sees you watching and listening from the edge of the deck.

“Kidd,” he says soothingly, trying to calm him down, “You’re just upset. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

Kidd notices Killer’s gaze looking over his shoulder and he turns around to meet your bleary eyes, his own amber eyes softening as he takes in the expression on your face.

You’d already beat yourself up about the kiss on the walk back to the ship, but hearing those harsh words leave Kidd’s lips felt like a knife to your gut. The tears that burned your eyes caused you to turn your face from him, wiping them away before they could fall as Kidd moved in your direction.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to you as he approaches. “I didn’t…”

“Cause you’re some fucking saint, right Kidd?” you retort back at him, masking the hurt you were feeling with anger nearly matching the intensity of his own moments ago.

You see his eye twitch and his lip curl at your accusation, his step faltering slightly before he continues approaching you, slowing down ever so slightly.

“Never claimed to be a saint, princess,” he growls, “But I’m not the one running around kissing strangers after telling someone they love them.”

You feel the burning in your eyes rise again, his smug tone making your lip quiver as you try to keep the angry ember burning inside of you.

“You didn’t ask me to love you, remember? Maybe I’m trying not to anymore.”

Kidd’s hand reaches out to you and yanks you towards him by your forearm, his grip rough as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from yours.

“And how is that working for you?”

You tug your arm away from his grip, and he lets you go with an evil grin, eyes ablaze as he watches you back away from him. He stalks towards you again and reaches like he’s going to grab you again, but you swat at his hand defiantly.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kidd’s hand flinches back at the tone in your voice, stopping mid-stride he stares at you intently, gauging your reaction as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

After a few moments, Kidd resumes his steps, closing enough of the distance between the two of you to where you can feel his shallow breaths ghosting over your collarbone.

His smirk returns as he hears the slight hitch in your breathing, noting the twinkle of desire in your eye as he hovers over you.

“You sure you don’t want me to touch you, princess,” he croons, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your arm as he defies your earlier command.

You shudder at the feeling, your throat going dry as his fingers send a shiver down your back. He traces his fingers up your arm and down the front of you, stopping to toy with the waistband of your skirt as he drops his eyes to where his hand is.

“I bet that sweet little cunt of yours will tell me a different story,” he murmurs, dropping his head down and connecting his lips to your neck, placing wet kisses along your jaw as he slips his fingers down into your panties.

He hisses at the feeling of you, and you flush at just how easy it is for him to slip a finger inside of you, a feeble moan falling from your lips as he begins pumping it in and out of you.

You’re grateful Killer had taken his leave once he felt the shift in the conversation, biting down on your lip as you try to stifle the moans Kidd is so effortlessly pulling from you. You feel your body arch into his touch as he slips in another finger, your hips bucking as he presses his thumb to your throbbing clit.

Just when you feel the pressure begin to build in your core, Kidd pulls away from you entirely, holding your angry gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Too bad you don’t want me to touch you,” he purrs, turning and walking away from your panting form.

You snap out of the shock after he gets a few steps away, your own lip curling into a wicked grin as you call out after him.

“Maybe I’ll go have the guy at the bar touch me. His kiss was decent enough.”

Kidd’s hands are on you in an instant, pressing you down by your neck against a nearby table as he looms over you, eyes blazing.

“I fucking dare you.”

You feel the damp heat pooling in your legs as he stands between them, Kidd’s free hand tugging at his pants as he pulls out his cock and teases the head of it against your clothed cunt - pulling the fabric to the side an teasing your entrance a moment later. You both hiss at the sensation, and Kidd’s hips snap into you hastily, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he bullies himself into your warmth and immediately sets a punishing pace.

Your back scraps against the wood of the table as Kidd fucks into you, hand still holding you in place by the throat as he growls from above you. The sudden sting of his intrusion quickly melts into pleasure as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

“You think his cock would’ve felt as good as mine, hm? You think he would’ve been able to make you scream like I can?”

Your only reply is a throaty moan as Kidd pumps his hips into yours, your vision going blurry as the pressure in your core begins to intensify. Kidd’s hand tightens around your throat as you close your eyes, causing them to snap back open and meet his amber orbs.

“Answer me.”

You shiver as he growls out his command, his metal hand reaching down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“No!” you shutter, the volume of your voice rising with each hard thrust of Kidd’s hips.

Kidd’s response is a grunted laugh, his pace slowing as he feels your walls begin to flutter around him.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he commands, his slow and deliberate thrusts punctuating his words.

You roll your eyes and bark out a laugh. “Fuck you,” you grit out between your teeth.

Kidd barks a laugh back, his mocking tone riling you up even more as he presses his hips to yours.

“Isn’t that what we're doing, princess?” A quick snap of his hips and you hear the table creak from the pressure. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself involuntarily clamp down around Kidd’s length, his hand tightening in reaction as he stops his movements altogether and ruts his hips against yours, the movement not nearly enough to satiate you.

You whine desperately as you try to buck your hips against him, his torturous stare boring into you as he holds you still.

“It’s yours,” you gasp out, exasperated and desperate to feel him moving inside you again.

“Hmm?” He croons, and your cheeks flush as you meet his heated gaze.

“It’s yours,” you say louder, more conviction in your voice as you see the triumphant grin curl onto Kidd’s lips.

He pulls himself out of you, nearly leaving you completely, before slamming himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he pulls you to the edge of the table and pistons in and out of you. His metal finger returns to your clit and your moans vibrate through your chest as the cord in your abdomen tightens.

“Come for me, princess,” he hums from above you, losing himself in your grip as he feels his own orgasm rear its head.

You do as he commands, your orgasm washing over you as your eyes screw shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you feel your voice go hoarse from calling out for him. You claw at the edge of the table as Kidd rocks into you, each wave of your orgasm causing your cunt to grip him tighter and tighter as his thrusts grow slower and sloppier, finally coming to a halt after he’s spent. Your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard as soft waves rock against the ship until you slowly start to hear voices approaching in the distance - signaling the return of your crew.

Kidd wordlessly scoops you up into his arms, whisking you away to his quarters below the deck before anyone has a chance to see the two of you. Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed, leaning over you and keeping his head nuzzled in your neck as he contemplates the next thing to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you were expecting leave his mouth, and you feel a lump form in your throat as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“For everything.”

Your mind flashes back to the heated words you two had exchanged over the past week, the tenderness in Kidd’s voice a soothing balm over the wounds that had been opened up in the process. You bring a hand to his face and stroke the soft skin of his cheek, his face leaning into your touch as your eyes haze over with sleep.

“You can continue apologizing in the morning,” you muse, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle down into his blanket, feeling him crawl into the bed behind you and pull you towards his chest.

“Does that mean I’m not forgiven yet?”

You chuckle lightly, rolling around to face him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Nope,” you say with a wink, smiling at him teasingly. “You’re gunna have to do better than that.”

He blinks down at you unexpectedly, your challenge settling into his mind as his devilish grin returns. He flips you onto your back and tugs at your clothes, no longer willing to let you sleep until he proves to you just how sorry he really was.

🐯

“I’m fine, Bepo,” Law growls, dismissing him with a wave of his hand as he continues further into the ship. “I don’t care what she does, she’s the last of my concerns right now.”

Bepo waddles behind him wearily as he stomps towards his office, your quiet footsteps following them from a distance as you try to muster up the courage to face Law in his current state.

“Are you sure about that… Captain?”

You hear Bepo’s weary voice as you approach the door, your footsteps coming to a halt just outside the office. You barely hear the grumbled response from Law as your heart begins thundering in your chest, swallowing hard as you will your legs to move you forward, stopping in the doorway as your heavy eyes look across the room to your captain.

His eyes take you in, and you try to mask the weariness on your face as he finally meets your gaze. He only holds it for a moment, before a scowl curls up onto his lips and he looks away, pulling his hat from his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m gunna go…” Bepo stutters, and you glance at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him not to abandon you. But he’s gone an instant later - leaving you in an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

Neither of you speak for a long while, neither of you able to find the right thing to address first.

Law huffs out a deep sigh as he collapses into his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clawing at his hair again.

“Did you need something, Y/N?” was all he could think to say, the edge in his voice teetering on annoyance as he struggled to grapple with the chaos of emotions in his head.

You clenched your fists tighter to your sides as you struggled to breathe, words escaping you as you searched your brain for something to say that wasn’t laced with the venom you wanted to spew back at him. You wanted to scream at him - wanted to make him realize the hurt he’d caused you to feel the last few days. You supposed the kiss with a random stranger had succeeded in that partially, but now he had the audacity to be the one acting upset?

Your mind raced a mile a minute as Law sat staring at you, his brows furrowed as he watched your gaze turn from sorrowful to… angry? There was something sparking through the haze in your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he braced himself as your chest rose with a deep inhale.

But instead of a snide comment, a feeble laugh was all you could muster as you loosed the breath you held, feeling your shoulders relax as you shut your eyes and turned on your heels.

“Y/N,” Law’s voice held a commanding tone as he called out to you, and you paused mid-stride to glance over your shoulder at him.

To your surprise he had began to rise from his seat, and as you turned to face him once more he crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping less than a foot away from you. He reaches out an arm to you and you flinch away from him, his hand dropping when he sees your reaction.

“Are you… alright?”

You huff out another laugh at the question, and you swear Law flinches at your reaction. His brows furrow in irritation momentarily before softening again, and he puffs out a sigh before speaking again.

“I… I realize I may have been a bit… harsh with you the other day,” he says through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to admit he may have been in the wrong. “And I realize that you only pushed as hard as you did because you care.” He raises a hand to the back of his head and casts his gaze around the room, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find any words to ease the pain still lingering in your expression.

Still you remained silent, sensing how every non-response sent his pulse sky rocketing. You were unsure why, but something about the way you were effortlessly able to get under his skin had a smirk threatening to curl onto your lips as he leaned closer, eyes softening even more as he reaches a hand toward your chin.

You don’t flinch away from him this time, allowing him to pull your chin closer to his with his index finger, the touch gentle as his breath tickles the side of your neck.

“Say something,” he pleads, his voice barely more than a whisper now, “Please. Tell me you’re alright, tell me you hate me - say anything, Y/N-ya.” His voice trembles a bit as he says your name, and any smugness you had felt dissipates at the sound.

You feel your lip quiver as you try to figure out what to say - what you want to say - and the two of you remain that way for a few more heartbeats before you finally break the silence.

“You… are a real asshole when you’re angry… you know that?” You drawl, sensing Law relax a bit at the smirk you offer him for a quick moment before your lips fall back into a harsh line.

Law huffs out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating in your chest as he leans his head down towards your ear, kicking the door shut behind him before leading you further into the office.

“Says the girl who just threw herself at a stranger after making sure I was watching her every move.”

Your back stiffened as you felt the edge of Law’s desk press into the back of your legs, papers rustling behind you from the slight disturbance you’d caused.

“I did no such thing,” you said defiantly, though your voice came out less convincing than you had wanted it to. You swallowed hard as Law pulled his head back to look at you, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment ago as they watch the bob of your throat.

“Keep lying to me, and I’ll have to punish you, Y/N-ya.”

Your thighs squeezed together at the threat, and you curse whatever broken part of you causes you to melt at the sight of your captain like this - at the condescending tone in his voice.

“I’m not,” you whisper, pressing your body against his as he watches you through heavy lids, “But I’ll gladly take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Captain.”

He hisses as you reach down and palm him through his pants, his considerable length pressing against his pants painfully. He grabs your wrist to halt your movements and your eyes fly up to meet his heated glare and biting your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

“Turn around.”

The command in his voice has heat pooling in your core as you turn and bend over the edge of his desk, not caring what papers you scatter to the floor in the process. Law silently lurks behind you, running a hand over your ass tenderly before pulling the waistband of your bottoms down, exposing yourself to him. He growls again, this time rubbing the flesh of your ass harshly before lifting his hand and bringing it down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap.

“That,” he groans, and you hear him fidget with the buttons on his pants, “Is for disobeying your captain’s orders in the first place.”

Another slap to your opposite ass cheek has you crying out at the sensation, the sting of his hand immediately being soothed by his fingers as he kneads the swollen area.

“That… is for arguing with me and then avoiding me for three days.”

You wince as his hand raises again, a whine escaping his lips as he tears the underwear from your legs and pulls your back up and flush to his chest, his erection pressing between your ass cheeks as he breathes harshly along the shell of your ear.

“You’re too loud,” he groans, balling your underwear up and shoving it into your mouth as a make-shift gag. “Keep quiet or I’ll cut this punishment short.”

You nod your head as he leans you back over the desk, tracing your entrance with the tip of his cock as you bite back a moan. Law grabs your forearms and crosses them over your back, gripping both of them in one hand as he presses himself into your warmth, a muffled moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts.

“Quiet,” Law snaps, pulling himself from you and laying another smack to your ass as you feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is labored as he presses back into you, this time sinking into your walls completely, the stretch of him inside you causing your eyes to water further as the slight pain melts into pleasure as he sets a punishing pace as he moves in and out of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together fills the office, the sound accompanied by Law’s husky grunts and your muffled moans. You really did try to contain them, but the feeling of him moving inside you was too overwhelming for you to care about the sounds coming out of you.

Law yanks your arms back, causing your back to arch up off the desk as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. The new angle has you leaning back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?”

Your defiant response is to let out an even louder cry as he releases the hand around your arms and wraps it around you to thumb at your clit, chasing after his own release as you tumble into your orgasm. You feel yourself clamp around him tightly as the waves of pleasure have your vision blurring, your mouth going dry as you try to cry out his name. Law hears your attempts and pulls the underwear from your mouth, his cock twitching when he’s finally able to hear his name fall from your lips. You feel his body tenses and his legs begin to shake as Law drags his cock hastily through your walls, until finally his thrusts grow sloppy and his own orgasm washes over him. Each grunt of your name sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin as he comes to a still behind you, peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses as he lifts his hand and the two of your bodies are replaced by pillows inside his office.

Back in Law’s quarters, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you needily, trying to convey all the emotions he’s wrestled with over the past few days with the action.

“Just so you know,” he says when he finally pulls away, his eyes falling to your puffy and swollen lips as he licks his own, “I do want you here. I always want you here, Y/N-ya.”

You feel your chest tighten as you think back to the heated words the two of you had exchanged days prior, letting out a small sigh of relief at the reassuring words you’d been waiting to hear. “Even if I don’t know how to shut the hell up?”

Law grins, a devilish twinkle sparkling in his eye as he dips his head back down to yours.

“Especially because of that.”

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

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lilis-doodle-dome · 6 months ago

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Flirt chart!

Clarifying certain parts:

- Flirting has to be done with intention, can’t be something that is charming/romantic on accident

- For genuine feelings, Kaito and Heiji are both the recipients while Shinichi and Saguru are the ones confessing (decided bcs I wanted an even split and knew Kaito wouldn’t confess any real feelings under threat of death)

More specific thoughts under the cut (and blank chart at the bottom)

- Kaito does not flirt, he tugs at pigtails and pretends that counts, so flirting is a KID specific action. He has no shame in it since it’s all part of the act to him

- I personally hc him as asexual, but even without that, it’s pretty clear that flirting does nothing for him- seeing how he acted in the “date” episode and his 0 interest in valentines day and lack of reaction to Akako

- Mans can not deal with real emotions, especially if they seem like they’re out of nowhere

-and I think he’s the type that once you break past his poker face (which admittedly takes quite a bit) Boom. He’s broken. Shades of red only visible to shrimp and it goes all the way down to his shoulders.

- not much clarification needed for the first two with Shinichi, maybe that this is post-conan, which is why he gets awkward with flirting instead of gloating

- again since this is post-conan I think he makes an effort to be upfront about his feelings right off the bat, no chance for something to get in the way then.

-But he’s not the most self aware so it might take him a bit to puzzle out his emotions, as soon as he does I like to imagine him turning to the recipient of his feelings, and dramatically announcing his discovery, like it’s a deduction show. Finger point and all

- He’ll probably get embarrassed the next second when he realizes what he did

- Hakuba is just using standard high-class English niceties he learned from growing up rich in London, but he’s also observant enough to see that it clearly causes a reaction when used

- and I don’t think he’s above using that to his advantage, especially since he can be otherwise awkward at socializing

- although I don’t think he realizes it could be taken as leading someone on, since he doesn’t really have any intentions with it beyond gaining favor and he’s not quite aware enough to see the heart eyes directed his way

- I only did verbal flirting so in that case I think it mostly goes over Hakuba’s head (a combination of cultural differences and social obliviousness) but if you did more physical advances -alla holding his hand or bumping shoulders- then he would react by going stone still, completely tense and delightfully red!

- Like Shinichi I think Saguru prefers to be upfront with his feelings and would confess quickly after figuring out his feelings, sometimes it can be hard to be fully truthful but he finds it’s generally worth it in the end

- even if he’s rejected then he can move on instead of perseverate over the feelings

- Hattori is the character I know the least by my general vibe is that he sucks at intentional flirting (although tends to do things unthinkingly that knock people off their feet)

- He’s kinda a Tsundere? More in the sense that any attempts at flirting are more likely to be somehow taken as a slight and make him competitive, instead of landing at romantic as intended

- Sunshine golden retriever smile. What else is there to say. You agree.

Blank chart if anyone wants it!

#art #my art #fanart #chart #shipping chart #dcmk #magic kaito #detective conan #detco #kaito kuroba #kaitou kid #kaito #shinichi kudo #shinichi #conan edogawa #hakuba saguru #saguru #hattori heiji #heiji

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nataliasquote · 1 year ago

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Double the trouble [pt.1] | n romanoff

Double the trouble au: part 1, part 2

Summary: Natasha and Wanda’s teenage twin daughters are a lot to handle, but despite their differences and arguments, there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other

Age: 17

Warnings: none

Pairings: WandaNat

wc: 3.9k

note: my first time putting a one shot on tumblr. Here goes nothing

— ⧗ —

"Y/N! Mom told me to come wake you. You're gonna be late." Isla stood at the door, her arms folded with a cocky smirk plastered on her face.

Y/N groaned and turned over in her bed, flinging an arm over her face as she squinted into the light to see who was speaking. The familiar outline of her twin sister came into view and she rolled back over.

"Y/N. Get up. Or don't. It's not my fault if you're late." And with that, the girl was gone, the door swinging shut as a cloud of floral perfume was all that was left in her place.

"Good morning to you too." Y/N muttered under her breath as she pulled her phone off charge and checked the time. Her stomach dropped as 7:19 flashed up on her screen. School started at 8:00. They left at 7:45. She did not have long at all.

"Isla I'm gonna kill you!" The distressed teenager screamed out, running over to her closet to pull out the first half decent outfit she could find. Any feeling of tiredness evaporated from her body as she got dressed, which was probably the only positive to come out of this morning.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door as she pulled her shirt over her head. Wanda's head popped around before she saw it was safe for her to enter. She watched her daughter getting frustrated over her hair for a moment before walking over with a plate of freshly made toast and fruit. There wasn't much time to eat it but Wanda was the kind of mother who made sure all of her girls were fed. Even when Nat was feeling stubborn.

"Good morning sweetheart. I brought breakfast." It was an obvious thing to send but Y/N smiled gratefully at her in the mirror for a split second before a large tangle in her hair caused her to wince.

"Thanks Mom."

"Do you want me to send Mama up to help with your hair?" As a typical mom, Wanda collected a few spare cups from her daughter's desk and stacked them in her hand. Y/N attacked her hair with her hairbrush before setting it down on the table with a thud.

"No! I'm not 4! I can do my own hair!" She exclaimed. She didn't normally talk to Wanda that way, but the stress of being late was taking its toll so Wanda didn't take offence.

"Okay. Well, you've got 15 minutes."

Y/N groaned loudly and started on her make up, having given up on her hair. A ponytail would suffice for today. She did not have the patience.

"Isla, you know you can't leave without your sister. So I don't know what trick you're playing on her, but if she's late then you're late." Wanda went into stern mother mode as she entered the kitchen, where her eldest (by 11 minutes) was sat at the table drinking her breakfast smoothie.

The teenager looked up in offence at her mother, who just shot her a warning look. "I didn-" She was cut off by another glare from Wanda.

The mother tapped the side of her head. "Mind reader. Remember?"

"What's this about mind reading?" Nat questioned as she walked into the kitchen, going straight over to her wife to wrap her in a hug and a kiss. Isla turned back to her phone and the women looked over at their daughter. "And where's Y/N?"

"Well, someone turned her sister's alarm off so she's currently rushing around upstairs."

Nat sent her famous disappointed look to Isla, who cowered slightly. Wanda was easy to get around, often being far too soft with her girls. Natasha was the tough parent, but she still cared. Being a dance teacher and studio owner meant she was an expert in tough love. "Isla... why?"

The teenager shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought it was funny. I was gonna wake her up but I lost track of time." She pulled a lock of perfectly curled hair out of her face and Nat knew what had made her 'lose track of time'.

"You don't do that again, okay?" Isla nodded, not wanting to start an argument before 8am. She wasn't a bad person, but her ideas of teasing her sister and playing jokes weren't exactly the best.

"Hey my love," Wanda hummed as Nat passed her again with a kiss. "Can you go see if Y/N needs any help? She might benefit from your braiding skills today, even though she was okay."

Natasha smiled, nodding. She loved braiding her daughters' hair. Even at 17, when the twins claimed they were too old for it, they secretly loved Nat's braids. Especially Y/N, who found her mom doing her hair at lot during dance show season.

There was just over 5 minutes before they needed to leave so Nat tentatively entered Y/N's room, observing the girl before talking. The teenager was threading her earrings into her ears, the rest of her jewellery already in place. Make up was scattered across the desk and her hairbrush was on the other side of the room. Her hair hung down her back in a dark red curtain, the ends curling naturally slightly. It looked smooth but wasn't styled, and Nat smiled.

"Hey sweet girl. Can I help?" She sat on Y/N's bed slightly, picking up the backpack by the floor and slotting her daughter's laptop and charger into the right compartment. She didn't snoop around, but instead put it back on the floor by her feet.

"I just need to finish my make up. How long do I have?" Y/N took a bite of toast as Nat checked her watch.

"5 minutes. Do you want braids? I can do them in 2 minutes. And I won't be in your way." Y/N was hesitant as she applied her concealer, frantically blending it in. Wasn't her neatest job but she still wanted to be presentable.

"Okay but please make it quick."

Nat sprung into action, gathering up a small section of hair to begin braiding. The two worked in silence, with there being no time to walk. As Nat tied off the first braid, Y/N leaned forwards to curl her lashes before Nat started again on the other side. The braids were only small, taking the front sections of Y/N's hair to keep them out of her face during the day.

Being a dancer, she kept her hair long but there was so much of it that it got in the way a lot. So she rarely had it fully down, either claw clips or braids holding back. Isla rarely wore braids, wanting to differentiate herself from her sister at school. They got mixed up enough as it was.

"Okay. All done." Nat stepped back as Y/N applied her final coat of lipgloss. She smiled as she saw the braids but didn't have time to admire them before a jangle of keys was heard and a voice yelled up the stairs.

"Y/N! Let's go!"

"Always so polite." Nat said sarcastically with a smile to Y/N. She handed her daughter her backpack and gave her a quick hug before the girl rushed out of the room, Nat following behind more calmly.

"Love you Mama! Love you Mom!" Y/N shouted over her shoulder, running out of the house with a slice of her toast in her hand.

"Have a great day girls." The women called out, watching the car pull away from the driveway. Isla got her permit before Y/N so she was the designated taxi girl in the family now. Y/N hated it, but driving wasn't her strongest suit so she stuck out the irritating chatter of her sister until she was finally ready for her own permit.

"Everyday I'm still surprised at how similar yet so different they are." Wanda commented, her hands wrapped round her mug of tea. Nat mirrored her from her side, her mug containing coffee instead.

"They look like a carbon copy of each other and yet sometimes I feel it's like they're from different planets." This made Wanda laugh slightly, her breathy giggle never failing to put a smile on her wife's face.

"I mean, you wouldn't find Isla in a dance studio anymore. But then Y/N practically lives there. And you wouldn't find her on the athletics track either, unlike Isla. We must have done something right... right?"

Nat sidled up to her wife and wrapped her arms around her waist, mug now abandoned on the counter. "You, my dear, are the best mom those girls could ask for." She looked into the green eyes she knew far too well before pressing a kiss to the lips she had memorised and could draw in her sleep. "We've done everything we can do for them. And our girls are the toughest girls in the world."

"And they're ours."

"Our little babies." Nat said with a soft smile, her head leaning down to rest on Wanda's shoulder.

"Don't let Y/N hear you saying that. She was snappy about me thinking she was 4 earlier."

"That girl is a whirlwind. She's as wild as her hair sometimes." Wanda reached up and pushed a lock of Nat's red hair behind her ear, admiring the colour which matched the twins' almost perfectly.

"And I know just where she gets it from." The Sokovian said with a smile before kissing her wife. Nat tried to deepen it now it was just them, but Wanda pulled back. "I have work to do. As much as I'd love to stay here with you all day, those emails won't answer themselves." She left the room with an aura of grace surrounding her and Nat found herself staring at the door way long after she was gone.

— ⧗ —

The day went by quite fast. Wanda worked in her office until 4pm, whilst Nat left for her studio at 1pm to start preparing that evening's classes. Competition season was a stressful time but she handled herself well, staying on top of what she needed and when.

The final bell rang and the corridors were soon filled with hoards of teenagers, everyone racing to get home as quickly as possible. Y/N and Isla stopped by their lockers, chatting with friends as they exchanged the textbooks needed for tonight's homework.

Despite their quarrels and petty arguments, the twins shared the same group of friends at school. They were known by everyone, but Bucky, Maria, Clint, Kate and Steve made up their main group. They were pretty popular, partly due to the fact that there wasn't a single person who disliked their moms. Nat and Wanda were the favourite parents which somehow elevated the girls' social status in school. Maybe it was also because of the parties they were allowed to host.

Natasha and Wanda's main focus was to give their girls as normal of a life as they possible could. Which meant letting them live like teenagers. Going to football games, school dances, hosting house parties, trips to the mall with friends. Anything that normal teenagers did was allowed. Alcohol was monitored and smoking and drugs was a strict no. But the twins followed the rules, knowing they were a lot luckier than most.

"Shit. Mom needs me in the studio." Y/N read aloud as her locker slammed shut. Isla peered down at her sister's phone and sighed.

"Y/N I've got track practice in 15 minutes. I can't get you there and back in time." Her sports bag hung off her shoulder and she watched her sister grab the emergency dance bag from her locker that she kept purely for times like this. "Well, I suppo-"

"I can take you" Bucky spoke. He was leaning with his back against the lockers like he usually did, watching Y/N with a soft smile.

"No I-" Isla started to protest but stopped herself. She knew how much Bucky was crushing on her sister and she was in full support. "Actually, Bucky, that would be amazing." Everyone else was aware of his crush, all except Y/N. She was completely oblivious, which obviously Isla took full advantage of and teased her about it almost on a daily basis.

"Do you know where it is?" Y/N asked casually. She had been crouched down by her bags to swap her stuff over and so had missed the looks and glances that everyone shared as Bucky offered. So as she stood back up everyone was smiling wide which confused her. "What?"

"Yeah my little sister does ballet on saturdays there and I pick her up sometimes." Bucky had already fished his car keys out and was tossing them in his hand.

Y/N noticed her sister's smirk out of the corner of her eye as they all walked to the exit of the school. "Isla, what is it?"

"Nothing. You guys have fun. But not too much fun." And with a wink, she turned towards the track and ran off to join her friends who were already on their way over in the distance. Everyone else said goodbye and went their separate ways for the night, leaving Bucky and Y/N by his car.

Y/N was definitely the kindest out of the twins, so she could easily make conversation with anyone. She didn't think anything special of the car ride to her mom's studio, except maybe that Bucky was really nice to offer her a ride. It was only a 10 minute drive but she was still so grateful.

"Thanks a lot for this, by the way." Y/N said as she stared out of the window. She knew this route like the back of her hand but something about the sun shining through the trees made it extra special today.

Bucky shook his head. "It's no problem. Always happy to help."

Y/N looked over and smiled at him. "You're a really good friend. I'm glad I've got you."

Bucky's smile slipped but he fixed it quickly as they came to a red light. Once again he was pushed back into the friend zone, but it was his fault for not making his feelings known. As he looked over at her, the sun catching her red hair, making it look like fire, her body swaying slightly to the music of "You Make Loving Fun", he realised just how much he liked her. But Y/N was sweet to everyone, so it held him back. Maybe she didn't see him the way he saw her. Or maybe she liked someone else.

His thoughts had distracted him and the lights turned green, earning a soft poke in the arm from Y/N who gestured to the lights.

They both hummed along to the music and chatted the rest of the way, Y/N sending her mom a quick text as they caught the rush hour traffic.

"You really are amazing for doing this. I'll pay you back at some point, I promise!" Y/N gratefully thanked him as she grabbed her bags to climb out of the car. Bucky offered to get out and help but Y/N's stubborn nature refused any help.

"Don't worry about it. Enjoy yourself. You're an amazing dancer!" He leaned out of the window and waved as he drove off, sending a blush creeping across Y/N's face.

Maybe the feelings were reciprocated. Just a little...

"Hey angel," Nat called out as Y/N walked through the main entrance doors.

"Hi Mama."

"Who was that outside?" Nat asked after Y/N said hi to the receptionist. She made her way over to her mother, who was stood by the door to the main studio and cafe.

"Oh, Bucky gave me a lift here. Isla had track so she couldn't get back in time." Nat couldn't help the smirk that crept onto her face, identical to the one Isla wore just before they left school.

"Oh so that's Bucky? Nice." She turned around and walked down the hall, leaving Y/N to chase after her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The teenager called out, but Nat just shrugged and checked the windows outside studio 1b. "Mama. Please tell me. Isla had the same smirk. I'm not stupid so just tell me what's going on."

Y/N's huff and pout made Nat 'aw' and she pinched her daughter's cheek before her hand was quickly slapped away. "Nothing baby. I just expected to see Isla, that's all. Not Bucky."

Y/N folded her arms over her chest, careful not to let her backpack or sports bag slip off her shoulders. "I don't believe you."

Nat patted her on the head and unlocked the door to the studio. "Okay. Now come on. I want to work on your solo. We have that turns section to sort out so hurry up and get changed."

Y/N groaned and dropped her back off her shoulder, where it landed with a muffled thud ad her feet. "Mom give me a minute. I just got here."

"I have no minutes to give. It's comp season, you know that Y/N/N. No time to waste." Nat was already over in the speaker corner, connecting her laptop up so it was ready. "Why are you still standing there?"

"Can I just have 2 minutes to breathe?"

Natasha turned around and placed her hands on her hips, mirroring her daughter perfectly. "Do you want Yelena to take your private instead? She's free right now actually. I could be teaching junior tap instead."

Y/N's eyes went wide and she quickly grabbed her discarded bag. "No no! I'll hurry. I'll change and be back! Please don't sent Yelena in here!"

"Good. And I won't. She's taking your class for ballet later anyway. So you have that to enjoy."

The teenager was halfway to the changing room before she stopped dead in her tracks. That was her worst nightmare. "Mama! She's gonna be all 'Those feet are horrible. Point them. Why do your hands look like claws. Are you a crab? Are we doing Little Mermaid dance? Your posture is like potato couch. Why are none of you flexible?'" Her Russian accent sounded nothing like her aunt, which made Nat raise an eyebrow. She'd taught her daughters better than that. Or so she thought.

"Potato couch?"

"I think she meant couch potato. But yeah she said that to Becca last week. It helped though. Her posture was better last night."

"Then she's a good teacher." Such a know it all. "Do you stretch every night?"

Y/N went to answer and Nat gave her a knowing look. "Well, not every night."

"Then everything Yelena says is true. So don't complain. She tells me everything."

"I don't see how you guys are sisters. You're so different. She makes you seem almost angelic." Y/N fiddled with the lock on the changing room door.

"Exactly what your mom and I say about you and Isla. Now stop being cheeky and go get changed. And I want the hi-cut black leotard because we're working on legs today. Oh, and Y/N, bring your half soles because I don't want to completely destroy your feet before the rest of your classes." Natasha was bossy but it's what made her one of the best teachers around. She knew what she wanted and what it took to get there. She could recognise the potential in her dancers but would only work with those who put the work in themselves.

There was something so special about working with your daughter. Nat loved it, even if she didn't get to do privates like this much. Yes, she went into dance teacher mode and Y/N was no exception, but the pride she felt when she watched her daughter dance was something she didn't feel as much with the other dancers. Just like when she watched Isla win her races, seeing Y/N dance made her heart swell so much it felt as though it would burst.

10 minutes later and Y/N emerged from the changing room, a hair tie between her teeth as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Nat wasn't strict on hair with privates, only with normal class. So she just put on some calming music and started stretching with her daughter. Yes, it was weird seeing her mom effortlessly do the splits, but Y/N was used to it by now.

They gossiped the whole time, Y/N filling her in on any school drama that was of interest. As Y/N moved to the bar to stretch her leg holds, Nat couldn't hold back her questions anymore.

"What's going on with you and Bucky?" Nat asked and then burst out laughing as she turned to face her daughter. Y/N had her right leg pulled up to her head, but the most confused and shocked expression on her face. It truly was a hilarious sight.

"Uh- nothing? But I feel like you know something I don't? That's the second time you've asked me today."

Nat shrugged. "Well, he gave you a lift. I'm just curious."

"Well there's nothing to be curious about." She switched legs as she was talking. "He's just a friend. You know that. We've literally been friends since middle school!"

"Okay. I'll just ask Isla then." Nat smirked and walked over to her laptop.

"Mama, she will just tell you the same! And if she doesn't then she's just causing drama. Or making my life a living hell."

"She's your sister. That's what she's supposed to do. You do the exact same to her, even if you don't think so." Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to the centre of the room. "Okay, let's run it. You ready?"

"Is that why you and Aunt Yelena can't direct the same dance show? Because you argue?" Y/N smirked as her mom shook her head. "I'm right aren't I?"

"No you're not. And she's Miss Yelena to you. Just like I'm Miss Natasha. Now, dance."

"Yes Mama." Y/N wore a shit eating grin as she moved to her starting position, trying to get into the character of her dance so she didn't burst out laughing.

She was grateful for the relationship she had with both her moms and family meant the most to her. Even Isla had a special place in her heart, despite their quarrels and petty arguments. Those sisters would do anything for each other if it came down to it. Which was surprising to everyone except Wanda and Natasha. They saw the sisterly bond like no one else did. It was unbreakable.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wandanat #marvel #yelena belova #dancer #twins #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #fanfic #scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen #double the trouble au

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thoseboysinblue · 7 months ago

Text

Last Call

Christian Pulisic x Reader

You celebrate Christian's last night in London with him.

Warnings: Cursing, smut (under 18 dni)

"Congratulazioni!" you raise your glass towards Christian as your group of friends celebrates his impending move to Italy. It's his last night in London before he goes to Milan for his official signing with his new team.

"Grazie," he grins as he taps his beer against your glass.

You glance around, thankful to be able to spend one last night with Ben, Mason, and Christian and a few others before it feels like everyone is going their separate ways.

"It's the end of an era," Ben smiles as he drapes his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a hug knowing you are by far the most emotional about your little group splitting up for the foreseeable future.

"Stop it, you're gonna make me cry," you shove him playfully.

"No tears tonight, sweetheart," Mason grins as he offers you his hand and pulls you up to dance with him.

"You could just tell him you know," he rolls his eyes as he spins you around.

"Tell, who what?" you knit your eyebrows together.

"Tell him," he nods towards Christian, "that you fancy him," he chuckles.

"What?" you shake your head, "why would I do that?"

"You really want to pretend that you two don't flirt relentlessly with each other?" he smirks.

"We don't," you stammer, "I'm actually incapable of flirting," you chuckle.

"Right," he smiles.

"Seriously, Mase, if I seem like I'm flirting I'm not, if I'm trying to flirt, it's a complete awkward disaster," you scoff.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret, only because he's leaving, but, if you wanted to flirt with him, he's not opposed," he winks.

Hearing that causes your cheeks to flush as you shake your head trying to clear your thoughts.

"Game face on," he leans down and says lowly in your ear, "he's coming over."

"Can I cut in?" Christian asks as he and Mason share a fist bump before he takes your hands and guide them around the back of his neck.

"There's my favorite London girl," he grins at you.

"Favorite London girl, huh? You have a favorite girl in every city or something?" you grin.

"Not at all," he turns you around so that your back is pressed against his chest and his fingers are gripping slightly at your hips.

He takes a minute to savor the way you feel against him before dipping his head to run his nose along your neck, inhaling the slightly sweet and floral scent of your perfume before barely grazing a kiss behind your ear.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps as your eyes flutter closed at his movements.

"You gonna send me to Italy without reminding what those lips feel like on mine?" he speaks directly into your ear causing heat to flare at your core.

It's not a big secret that you and Christian have found yourselves sharing a slightly tipsy make out session on more than one occasion, but that's as far as it's ever gone between the two of you. However, the way he's gripping at your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him makes you think that maybe he wishes that was different.

"Italy's not that far, Christian," you smirk, "and I'm sure you'll have plenty of new favorites lining up for you when you get there, you won't even miss me."

"Of course I will," he scoffs, "miss you, I mean, but we don't have to miss each other, y/n, like you said, Italy's not that far," he shoots you a devilish grin that you're sure could get you into trouble.

"LAST CALL" you hear blare out over the loud speakers announcing that the club you're in will be closing soon, interrupting your conversation with Christian.

"Last call, y/n" he mumbles, his lips only inches from yours.

"We better go," you take a step back from him and swallow harshly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah, we better go," he says somewhat defeated.

You settle your tab and make your way to the exit saying good night to everyone.

Mason pulls you into a hug and whispers "just do it, y/n" before giving you a brief smile.

"Come see me?" Christian says as he pulls you into him and you bury your head against his chest knowing this could be the last time you see him for a while.

You nod looking up at him, a mixture of hope and desperation in his eyes.

"You're going to do so well there, I just know it," you whisper before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"See ya around, Chris," you force a smile as you blink back tears and slide into your waiting Uber.

As you pull away you watch Christian watching your car before hopping into his own Uber.

You're not sure if it's the way he was looking at you as you left or the slight confidence boost from the small amount of alcohol you've consumed, but you pull out your phone and send a single text, a pin location for the address for the small townhouse you rent just outside of the city.

You can see that he's read your text, but there's no reply so you drop your phone back into your bag and lean your head back against the seat and let a couple of tears finally fall from your eyes.

Your car drops you off at your house and as you are unlocking the door you hear another car pulling into the driveway. You turn to see Christian climbing out of the backseat and making his way up the small path towards you.

"Hey" he grins as he trails his eyes up and down your body, fully appreciating you.

"Hi," you smile as your stomach somersaults.

He follows you inside watching as you kneel down to unbuckle the straps on your heels as kicks his own shoes off. He offers you his hand as you stand back up, sighing as your feet relax against the cool tiles.

"Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea? A snack or anything?" you ask quietly as he trails behind you on your way to the kitchen.

"Water would be good," he smirks.

You hand him a bottle of water from the fridge, pulling one out for yourself as well as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You watch each other take a long drink before he reaches over and swipes his thumb below your bottom lip capturing the small amount of water that spilled.

"I'm guessing you didn't just invite me over for refreshments," he smiles as he skims his hand over your neck tilting your head back and tracing his thumb along the lower side of your jaw before licking his lips and running his nose along the column of your neck.

"No" you sigh, a breathy moan escaping as he kisses down your neck following the same path his nose had just taken.

"Then why did you invite me, y/n" he grins against you before tipping your chin forward again to force you to look him in the eyes.

Your cheeks flush, now a bit embarrassed to admit why you invited him over.

"I think you know why, Christian," you blink a couple of times and bite your lower lip softly.

"I do, but I want to hear you say it," he breathes out, his mind fuzzy at the sight of you standing in front of him too shy to admit what you want.

"I want," you start but stop to think of exactly what you want to say, suddenly intimidated by the man standing in front of you.

He nods, encouraging you to finish your sentence.

"I want you to go to Italy with the taste of me on your lips," you lean forward and whisper into his ear, as if confessing your innermost secret, and perhaps in a way you are.

"That's my girl," he chuckles before leaning down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss.

His hands roam over your body hungrily as you grip your fingers into his hair and moan into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours.

"You're sure about this," he says quietly as his kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Yes" you breathe out as his hands slide around to find the zipper at the back of your dress.

"Good" he smirks as he lowers the zipper and peels your tight strapless dress down your body.

"Jesus," he bites his lip as he looks at you in a black strapless bra and matching lace thong before crashing his lips to yours again.

"Where's your room?" he mumbles as he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his lean torso.

"Up the stairs, end of the hallway," you sigh before attacking his neck with kisses as he carries you to your room.

He settles you on your feet and nudges you towards the bed. He leans down and kisses you again, much slower and gentler until you your gripping at his biceps silently begging for more.

He quickly unhooks your bra and flings it across the room with a chuckle before pushing you down onto the bed and following you as you inch your way towards your pillows.

"God you're perfect," he groans as his eyes trail over your body and his thumbs graze over your nipples.

You gasp when he dips his head to pull one of them into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers before kissing his way down your body.

He bites at the lace on your underwear, a quiet whimper escaping his lips as he runs his fingers over your core feeling the damp spot that's already there.

"Christian you don't have to," you sigh quietly.

"Oh but I do, baby, you wanted me to taste you remember?" he grins up at you from between your thighs.

"And honestly, I've wanted to do this for so damn long, I wouldn't dream of getting here and not getting a taste," he winks.

He slides your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side.

"But if I'm only going to get one shot at this, you've got to tell me what you like, you can't go all shy and quiet on me, y/n, can you do that for me?" his eyes burn into yours, the warmth of this breath fanning across you causing you to squirm.

You nod silently before sitting up and nudging his shoulders so that he sits back on his knees.

"You have on too many clothes," you mumble against his lips before tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He smirks against your lips before pulling his shirt over his head, "Better?" he grins at you.

"Much", you smile against him as you kiss over his chest and work to unbutton the jeans he's wearing, grazing your fingers over his hardened bulge as he pushes his jeans down his hips.

"These too," you mutter as you toy with the waistband of his boxers.

Your heart flutters at the quiet chuckle that escapes his lips before he pushes his boxers down and tosses them onto the floor as well.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his hardened cock. You watch as his head tips back and a low groan rumbles from within his chest when you wrap your fingers around him.

"I can't wait to feel you inside of me," you whisper before kissing him deeply as you continue working with your hand.

He wraps his hand over yours, stopping your movement and pressing his thumb over his tip, "not yet," he moans, "I want to do something else first."

He gently nudges you, encouraging you to lay back down as he settles between your legs again and wraps his arms around your thighs holding you open.

He keeps eye contact with you while he drops a pool of spit down onto your pussy before lowering his gaze to watch as it runs to your entrance.

"So perfect," he mutters before dipping his tongue into your entrance.

You moan as he teases your folds apart with long languid strokes and your head falls back against the pillows.

He hums at the taste of you sending a vibration up your spine, "I could do this all night," he groans as you tangle your fingers into his hair.

You gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit before sucking it lightly.

"Yes, that, I like that," you breathe out remembering he wanted you to tell him what you like.

"What about this?" he asks quietly as he slips two fingers into you and curls them against your gspot.

"Oh my god," you moan.

"Point taken," he chuckles as he feels you clench around him.

"You're gonna feel so good squeezing my cock like this," he moans against you as he continues bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please keep going, just like that, Chris," you pant feeling your high building incredibly fast.

"I got you, baby," he whispers as he presses down on your stomach with his forearm to keep you still.

"Fuck, I'm gonna," you moan as your orgasm washes over you, Christian moving to hold your legs open so that he can continue working you through it.

Once he's satisfied that you're coming down from your high, he uses his tongue to clean you up before placing a delicate kiss over your pubic bone.

He works his way up your body, kissing you softly before you push on his shoulders and turn him onto his back.

"It's only fair that I get a taste, too," you smirk as you kiss down his abs and over the smattering of hair just below his navel.

"You have a medical eval tomorrow?" you glance up to him.

"Yeah, why?" he chuckles.

"I'll try not to mark you up too bad," you wink.

"You can do whatever you want," he grins watching as you suck until you've formed a bruise just above his pubic bone, smiling down at your handiwork.

"Shit," he whispers as you wrap your hand around him again.

"Same rules, if I only get one shot, you have to tell me what you like," you wink at him before dropping spit onto him and working it over his hardened length with your hand.

"You can do that can't you, baby?" you ask him with a smirk as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

"Yes" he whimpers when you take more of him into your mouth, sucking lightly as you run your tongue along the underside of his shaft feeling him twitch in your mouth.

"Nope," he pulls you off of him quickly, startling you.

"Oh, um, am I not good at that? Did I do something you don't like?" you knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"God no," he chuckles, "the opposite actually, I was gonna cum in like thirty seconds if I let you keep going," he tucks your hair behind your ear running his fingers along your jaw delicately.

"Oh," you giggle noticing the slight blush on his cheeks.

"I need to make sure I can last long enough to know what it feels like when you cum around more than just my fingers," he says quietly as you move to straddle him.

"You wanna ride me, y/n?" he asks raising his eyebrows seemingly shocked.

You nod shyly, "unless you'd prefer something else."

"Nah, I'd never turn down a show," he grins, bringing his hands up to flank your hips, drawing soft circles over them.

You lean down and kiss him, tangling your tongue with his as he moans into your mouth.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted this," he mumbles against your lips.

"Really," you ask him, puzzled.

"Really," he says firmly.

"I've wanted it too, for so long," you smile as you line him up with your entrance and sink down on him.

Your back arches as you take him fully, thoroughly enjoying the slightly painful stretch.

"Fuck," he moans as he throws his head back and closes his eyes.

"Goddammit, you're unreal" he groans when you clench around him.

"Please, baby," he whimpers as he lifts his hips begging you to move.

You steady your hands on his chest, rolling your hips a few times before beginning to bounce over him as he grips his fingertips into you.

He thrusts up into you, meeting your movements as you both settle into a rhythm you're enjoying.

He moves one hand to toy with your nipples still guiding your movements with the other.

"So good, y/n," he breathes out, groaning when you clench at his praise.

He trails his hand up to your chest, flattening his palm against you as you continue riding him.

He watches as you bring your fingers to his mouth before he draws them in and coats them with his saliva and you slide them down your body to your clit.

He slides his hand just a bit closer to your neck and bites his lip hoping you will pick up on his insinuation.

You nod and smirk when he wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes just slightly.

"Oh fuck," you moan quietly before he tightens his hand a bit more and your head falls back.

"You close?" he asks, using the pressure of his hand to tilt your head back to look him in the eyes.

You nod, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

"Cum for me, y/n, let me have it," he groans as he watches your tits bouncing perfectly.

With that your orgasm rips through you as you shudder and clench around him collapsing onto his chest.

He gives you a moment to stop spasming around him before he quickly flips you over without even pulling out of you.

He thrusts harshly into you a few times chasing his own high until his hips begin to falter and he spills into with a moan of your name.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, working to catch his breath while you run your fingers along his back.

He pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed beside you turning you to face him before you bury your head against his chest and he wraps his arms around you.

You place a few soft kisses over his chest and neck until both of you have steadied your breathing.

"I'm kinda pissed we waited until tonight to do that," he whispers as you nod.

"I'm gonna go clean up," you tilt your face up to his and kiss him gently.

When you emerge from the bathroom you find him pulling his jeans up his hips.

You stop in the doorway and blink a few times in confusion that he's leaving so quickly.

He looks up and can tell by the look on your face that you're disappointed.

He takes a few strides closing the gap between you and tilting your face up to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, I've got an early flight so I've got to go," he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's ok, I understand," you look down at your feet.

"I don't think you do," he says tilting your chin up again and kissing you.

"I'd love to stay," he whispers, "you're sending me to Italy with much more than the taste of you on my lips, y/n."

You blink back a few tears.

"You're sending me with every sigh, every whimper, every moan of my name burned into my memory," he grins as he kisses along your jaw.

"I'm not going to miss much about London, but I'll definitely miss you. Promise you'll come see me once I get settled, let me take you dinner, maybe an encore performance?" he raises his eyebrows.

A giggle escapes your lips at his words.

"There she is," he grins when you nod.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," you sigh, finally allowing a couple of tears to fall.

He wipes them away gently and kisses you again.

"I won't be that far away, we can still see each other and won't have to miss each other," he smiles.

"Let's just say, see you soon, ok?" he kisses your forehead as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"See you soon, Christian," you sigh as he pulls you closer to him.

Tag list:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @landoslover @brasiliangp @judeswifeyyyyyyyy

#christian pulisic #Christian pulisic smut #Christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine

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furiousgoldfish · 14 days ago

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Someone asked me privately 'How to break out of brainwashing', and I thought the response might be useful to anyone else abused and going trough this. It goes into personal experience and osdd, as well as having mentions of suicidal thoughts, so be ready for that if you're reading on.

"I'm unsure that I can tell you exactly how to break brainwashing, because I can only ever partially do it, and only because I also have a dissociative disorder, I think without this disorder I wouldn't be able to do it alone, even partially. I can explain what I did though, and how I think a person might be able to do it with some outside help if it's available.

So for example, when I was small I've been brainwashed to believe I was a demon, and would often be punished for that crime, and I was too little to have any way to suspect that my caretakers would have any reason of lying to me, and a lot of the stuff that was done to brainwash this message into me was done under circumstances of pain. That's how brainwashing usually goes, it's a repeated message that is given to you when you're specifically vulnerable, have no defenses or arguments against it, and often under circumstances of either physical or psychological pain (if you're badly berated, humiliated, treated with contempt, that also causes intense pain that would seal the brainwashing).

So because I have a dissociative disorder (I have osdd), I split into two parts, one who had all the memories, and beliefs from the brainwashing, and was convinced they were a demon, and a second part who had only minimal memories, was completely detached from all of the pain of the situation, but still also believed to not be human because there were no messages received that would lead to any other conclusion. So basically similar, only one part had complete brainwashing, and the other had some, but was detached from the pain situation, because that's how osdd works, it enables part of you to live as if you weren't traumatized. Because this second part did not have the memories of pain, they were able to break trough brainwashing just using logic. It was still painful, because you have to acknowledge awful things like, your caretakers lying to you, for an evil purpose, having to acknowledge that you weren't safe, that you've been exposed to some extreme cruelty, sometimes having to cut your bonds with people you love because you see them for who they are. Your worldview shatters and that can take months or years to make peace with.

But the thought process was just questioning and breaking trough the logic of the situation. I questioned why I feel constantly guilty and ashamed for even existing, and what caused it, and the reason for that was intense shaming, guilt tripping, accusations, character assassination, punishments. I was receiving messages that I deserved only pain and shouldn't exist. So I questioned why was that, and what did I do to deserve that, and it turned out basically nothing severe; I was acting as a normal kid and would get shamed for stuff like, needing to eat, needing resources or money, saying no, standing up for myself, accidentally annoying someone, being perceived as a nuisance when I was just being a kid. So then why the shaming and the violence and being called a demon and punished for it? Because people who raised me were insane and needed some excuses for torturing a normal child who just happened to live there. Studying the situation further revealed that their acts of punishments coincided with when they were in a bad mood or just annoyed at something else and needed to lash out, rather than anything I did or caused.

Now if I was still connected to the emotions and pain inflicted on me during this brainwashing, I would not be able to break trough it using logic and arguments because the pain would completely overcome my logical side of the brain and I wouldn't be able to argue it out with myself because the pain of just thinking about this would make me suicidal. That's why brainwashing is so difficult to break trough under non-dissociative circumstances, it's just too dangerous to be exposed to that level of pain, and non endurable. It's also why brainwashing is usually done under circumstances of severe pain, so that the person trying to break trough it would be stopped by pain from having access to any kind of logic and they would submit to any message being told to them, just to avoid further pain.

This is also why I haven't been able to un-brainwash the part that is still connected to that pain, they cannot under any circumstances accept that they were a kid who was tortured for no good reason because that's too devastating and there's a barrier in their mind stopping the from even thinking in that direction. They won't indulge with logical arguments.

I do think a person who doesn't have a dissociative disorder could break trough brainwashing with some outside help. Brainwashing relies on the person always receiving the same messages about themselves, and on being resistant to any opposite messages; they make you believe that anyone telling you otherwise is trying to hurt you, lie to you, trick you, etc, it makes any opposite messages difficult to accept or process.

But if there was an environment where the person was consistently receiving un-brainwashing messages that counteract what the brainwashing was, eventually their brain would adapt to the new message, even though it would still be very painful, and there would be a lot of inner conflict, going from one view to the other, being unable to see which messages are true, sometimes succumbing to the pain of trying to fight it because the pain is overwhelming. But for example, if someone is brainwashed to not believe themselves as human, but they're in an environment where it's consistently pointed out how they have a lot of things in common with humans, if their similarities are amplified, they're treated as human, and any abuse or ham of them are being depicted as wrong and evil, it would eventually cause the person to doubt the brainwashing. Not right away though, at first you'd just think 'all of these people are fooled and they're just not seeing the reality of what I am' (that was me for years). But after years of consistency their brain would have to consider that maybe they are human if there's overwhelming proof of it and that maybe something was off with the original messaging. They would still have to go back in memories to challenge it and they would need support in fighting those messages.

Sadly the current environment of capitalism doesn't offer many options of breaking such brainwashing because people often treat each other transactionally and as resources and indulge in some level of manipulation and devaluing others to get their way, so abusive messages might just get amplified instead. Which is awful for people who were brainwashed and can't fight that kind of subjugation due to painful triggers that stop resistance.

I'm also not completely out of brainwashing myself, it's still very difficult to conceptualize that I didn't deserve everything that happened to me, and that I was just a kid. When I think about it I have to distance from myself and re-affirm to myself that it was 'a child', I can't think about it as 'me', because I still hold some connotations of having deserved this, or it being correct that it happened to me instead of anyone else. It helped me to find out that similar things happened to other children because it's very easy to see that no other child deserves this, other people are truly human and never deserve anything like this, and I could start comparing myself to them to some extent and grasp the idea that I also don't deserve this, since nobody does. But I still find myself somewhat tainted by it and different on some fundamental level, in which all of this had to happen, even though I wish it didn't. I guess it's complicated! I don't think I am able to completely break out without outside help, but since I don't have any, this is how far I am able to go."

#breaking out of brainwashing #breaking brainwashing #osdd #other specified dissociative disorder #child abuse #abusive parents #demon brainwashing #grooming children to believe they deserve the abuse #setting brainwashing with pain so it cannot be challenged

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