#they are ready to skin whoever is on their way
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star2fishmeg · 1 day ago
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Luke spitting in your mouth oop
Nonnie, you do know the way to a woman's heart. You know me so well, I had a lot of fun with this <3
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You have a love-hate relationship with these NHL gatherings, parties some may say. The first two hours are fine but it's the three-hour mark that hits like a brick and the exhaustion starts hitting. But it's also tremendously difficult to not run your hands over Luke when he looks so desirable in his polo shirt, pulled tight around his chest and biceps since the off-season.
Luke feels your stare from across the room. He soaks in the lust as your eyes rake his figure up and down, licking your lips and barely listening to whoever is trying to talk to you. How dare he parade around looking like that, delectable. It's like he knows how hot he is and does it on purpose to tease you. The fellow NHL girlfriend catches on, grinning from ear to ear and completely understanding what it's like to see your man dressed nicely.
She walks away as Luke strides over, his hand sliding to your lower back, tingles igniting over your skin and swirling in your stomach as he leads you into the empty hallway. You want him to kiss you, you want him to give you that dopey grin of his and kiss you passionately but instead, he's removing his hand from your back, and it grips your jaw, firmly pressing you up against the wall and forcing your half-lidded eyes to meet his, glazed with fire, glaring into yours.
"Will you quit that?" He grumbles lowly.
Chuckling, your hands wrap around his biceps, honey dripping from your tongue when the words roll out, "Why? Does it make you nervous when I stare?"
It does, and you know it does. His ears tint pink, his free hand squeezing your hip as his stomach churns with desire.
"You're teasing me and it's unfair. You know I'd have you if I could but not here. So, stop giving me those eyes and behave." Luke warns you, slotting his knee between your legs, knee bumping your clit, and he relishes in watching your eyes roll back.
"God, it's so hot when you scold me-" you tease, nothing but pure lust provoking him. You give his biceps a squeeze and make a feeble attempt at rolling your hips against his knee, with no other intention than to rile him up more.
Luke's tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, adrenaline surging through him. He knows you're in public, standing in an empty hallway with the buzz of the gathering muffled in the distance but that doesn't stop the filthy thoughts of fucking you against the wall.
He quickly glances towards the end of the hallway, where someone is yet to walk by, "-Open, tongue out. Now. You wanna be a slut, I'll treat you like one."
You smile as best you can, his grip on your jaw almost bruising but arousal pools into your panties. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out for him, and he watches a dollop of saliva slowly descend from his lips onto the flat of your tongue, a low hum emitting from your throat.
A soft kiss to your forehead gives you permission to swallow, and your eyes roll back again with an airy moan as his spit washes through you, "Mmm, love you, Lu. Again."
Your tongue slides out ready, his lips tugging into a smirk before welling up enough saliva again, letting the string drip with a painful delay, forcing your thighs to almost clench against his knee. The glob lands on your tongue, again, and Luke's looking at you tauntingly smug, "Such a good little slut, swallow."
And you do, giving him another crude moan as his spit falls down your throat and a feeling close to ecstasy flushes to your head (and cunt). Watching your reaction alone has his cock twitching, the burning need to shove you into the bathroom and bend you over the sink spiralling his system.
Luke's hand falls from your face and takes your hand, shaking his head jokingly while he leads you back to the gathering, at least you're satisfied, for now.
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rotten-debzee · 1 year ago
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Claws & Scars
Ready to attack.
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(Yea we officially have a name for the werewolf au let's gooo)
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eupheme · 3 months ago
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idk if you’re taking any requests and if you aren’t feel free to ignore this lol
but if you are would you write reader smothering Logan in kisses after she put on red lipstick leaving him covered in red kiss marks (maybe he has somewhere to be so he wipes them off but doesn’t realize he missed one till he gets called out on it)
ohh anon I love this!! 👀💖 I can’t imagine him being like “alright, already” but secretly like 🥰 on the inside (and ahh the thought of ‘reluctantly’ letting you leave a little kiss mark on him when you’re all going out because he heals too fast to leave a hickey!)
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— your kiss is on my list
logan howlett x f!reader | 400 words
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He’s good at pretending.
You catch him coming back from work just as you’re heading out. Tucked away in the stairway as you giggle, finding a hidden corner as you press your mouth against his.
No more than a stolen moment. Hands fisted in your jacket as you pepper kisses against his chin, the scruff of his facial hair. The side of his neck, just below the ear.
“Careful, sweetheart,” He coaxes, “You look gorgeous, don’t wanna mess up that lipstick of yours.”
Though he wants nothing more than to pull you closer. To whisk you away back upstairs - but he knows you’ve been talking about your night out with the girls all week.
And maybe he’s not ready to share you yet.
When you pull back you’re smiling, “Mm, I wouldn’t mind that. You coming over tonight?”
His hand cups your jaw, thumb rubbing under your lip to fix the slight smear, “Was already planning on it.”
It’s another minute before you’re through kissing him goodbye. His fingers lingering on his lips, as you disappear down the stairs.
If it was later, he wouldn’t mind getting a little marked up. Something that would stay against his skin, lingering until morning. Scattered across his chest, his stomach. A pretty red ring around his-
A sharp breath, as he clears his head. If he doesn’t get it together he’ll be tempted to go after you, and end your night a little early.
His hand scrubs across his mouth, wiping away the trace of you. The heel of his palm scraping across chin and jaw as he opens the apartment door.
Wade’s eyes flick his way as he enters, before he’s grinning in a way that makes his scowl deepen. Legs swinging as he jumps off the couch - coming over to brace himself on the counter, while Logan ducks down to peer in the fridge.
“Oh my god, you little liar. I knew you were hiding something from me, you’ve been way too chipper lately.” His roommate chirps, “When you bringing her over?”
“Who?” Logan barks defensively, tugging a beer free.
“Oh, I dunno,” Wade drawls - reaching out to poke a spot on his neck, “Whoever gave you that little masterpiece right there.”
Logan smacks his hand away with a growl. Fingers rubbing at his skin, seeing how they come back red. He sighs.
Fuck.
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thank you again, anon! 💖 hope you liked this!
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lxnarphase · 6 months ago
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
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you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
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sinfulspencer · 1 year ago
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Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+)
Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 
Words: 5.0k
A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!
MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.
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When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 
He was prepared for everything.
Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 
But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 
You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 
Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.
The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 
Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 
What was the problem, then?
Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.
You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 
And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 
He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.
Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.
When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 
‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’
And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 
Or better, undressed. 
That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 
Spencer was excited to bring you there. 
You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 
“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 
The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 
He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 
He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.
But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.
“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”
He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 
“Did I scare you?”
You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”
Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 
“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked
Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”
You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”
As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 
You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 
Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.
If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.
“Oh no.”
“Are you talking to me?”
Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 
“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”
“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.
Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 
They were not. Or maybe they were.
“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”
Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”
“She asked me to bring you, too.” 
“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”
Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”
“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”
You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.
Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 
It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 
“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”
You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”
Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.
“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”
As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 
Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 
Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 
“Are you even listening to me, love?” 
You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 
“Hm.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 
How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 
His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 
“Spencer!”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”
Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.
Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated
Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”
“Look at me, love.”
He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 
It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…
“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”
“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”
“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”
“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 
That felt incredibly hot. 
Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”
Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”
“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”
You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 
Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”
“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 
He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  
“No harm.”
“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”
Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 
But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.
You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 
“Nothing’s stopping me.”
You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”
Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 
Little minx, Spencer thought. 
“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 
He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.
“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”
Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 
“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”
“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”
Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”
Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 
It made you feel powerful.
“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 
Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”
But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.
Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 
His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 
“Let me be rough tonight.”
You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 
Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 
“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”
“Yes. Yes, love.”
He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”
You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 
“Good girl, that’s it.”
You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 
Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 
Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 
“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”
“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”
He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”
When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 
“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”
In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 
You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.
“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”
Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 
The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 
It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.
The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 
“Oh, fuck!”
Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 
You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 
“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”
“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”
You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.
A single tear of frustration. 
Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 
“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”
His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 
You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.
And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 
His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 
“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”
Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 
“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.
You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 
“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”
You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  
“My slutty princess.”
You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”
You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 
“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”
He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 
Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 
“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 
You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 
You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 
“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked
You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”
A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 
It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 
“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”
You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 
Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 
You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 
It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 
“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”
You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 
“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 
Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”
“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”
“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”
“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”
Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 
“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”
“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”
Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 
“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”
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TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft
BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove
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maskedbyghost · 2 months ago
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Heyyy, it's me again, but this time we're talking situationship!Simon—aka the biggest fuckboy you'll ever meet. Honestly, girl, I have no idea why you're still putting up with him!
you can’t even define what you two have, but one thing’s for sure—he knows how to use his dick, and you're both free to mess around with whoever you want. but of course, you had to fall for him, for that stupid smile he swore only you were special enough to see, for the gentle touch that lingered on your skin during those rare nights when he stayed longer than usual. you fell for the way he made you feel like you were the exception, even though deep down, you knew better.
you fell for how he made you feel like you were everything, even though he’d always leave just as quickly. he knew exactly how to keep you hooked—giving just enough to make you believe in him, but never enough to make it real. you wanted more, but every time he left, you remembered that his promises were as short-lived as his visits. still, you couldn’t stop going back, hoping that maybe this time, he’d actually mean it.
but he never did. you’d have fun for a few hours, but then he’d leave, acting like you didn’t exist around everyone else. he’d flirt with other girls right in front of you, not even bothering to hide it when he left with them, almost like he wanted you to see.
and every time, it hurt a little more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to end it. you told yourself you didn’t care, that it was just fun, but deep down, you wanted to be the one he stayed with. yet, no matter how much it hurt to watch him with someone else, the moment he came back, all that anger faded, and you let him in again, caught in the hope that maybe someday he’d truly see you as more than just a temporary fix.
one night, you tried to have a serious conversation with him, hoping that if you laid out your feelings, he might finally understand. but he dismissed your emotions with a shrug, listing reasons why he didn’t want a relationship: he was too focused on his career, he wasn’t ready for commitment, and he just didn’t want to deal with the complications. simon insisted that keeping things as they were was the best option for both of you.
afterward, as you lay together, a clear realization hit you. even though you were physically close, you couldn’t ignore the emptiness you felt. that night you made a silent promise to yourself: this would be the last time you let him in, and the last time you let yourself be trapped in this cycle.
and, being the dumb man he was, simon only came to realize what he had lost after you were gone. a few weeks after your last conversation, he saw you a few times out with other guys, laughing and flirting as if you were moving on. it hit him hard—a painful mix of jealousy and regret. he realized that he missed you, but at the same time, he knew he had no right to these feelings. not after treating you the way he did.  
he managed to keep his calm for a few more days, but the weight of his regret grew unbearable. finally, he snapped and called you into his office late one night, claiming he needed to discuss the upcoming mission with you.
as soon as you walked in, simon felt his heart tighten in his chest. seeing your face calm, confident, like you had already moved on, stirred something deeper than he expected. there was no trace of the vulnerability you used to show around him, no lingering affection. he realized, in that moment, just how much he had pushed you away. regret surged through him, sharper than he imagined, and he knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy.
after talking about unimportant stuff for a few minutes, simon took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “i know i messed up, and i’m sorry for how i treated you. i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened, and i realize now how much i regret it. i was wrong to push you away.”
you looked at him, your expression guarded. “it’s a little too late for apologies, simon, don't you think? you had plenty of chances to get it right, and now you’re just trying to fix things because you see me with someone else.”
he tried to reach out, his voice softening. “i know it’s not enough, but i want to make things right. i can’t stop thinking about what we had.”
you shook your head, stepping back. “you had your chance, and you threw it away. i’m not going to be your second choice or your backup plan.”
"y/n-"
"no, simon!" you sighed, closing your eyes briefly to gather your thoughts. when you spoke again, your voice was steady, "you know, some people never fade from memory. they leave a mark that lingers just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to move on. but to be honest, i’m not in the mood for any more humiliation or heartbreak. so, this is my final goodbye to you."
you could sense that he wanted to say something, but you couldn’t let him speak before you had your say. “go ahead and fill your life with new faces, as if i were nothing but a distant memory. enjoy your freedom and let others wear you out as they please. i’m done being part of that. keep moving forward, and if you ever try to reach out, know that i’ll let your calls go unanswered. for now, i’m celebrating the end of our chapter.”
even as he heard you declare the end, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he still wanted you in his life. he was stuck between guilt and the lingering hope that maybe he could still fix things. despite your rejection, part of him struggled to accept that he had truly lost you, and he felt powerless to change the situation or let you go.
simon’s face twisted with a mix of desperation and anger. “you think you can just walk away and erase everything we had? you think you can move on and leave me behind like I’m nothing?” he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice was filled with raw intensity. “don’t fool yourself, i still want you, and i won’t just let you go. you’re mine, whether you like it or not. i know i’ve made mistakes, but i’m not done fighting for what we had. if you think you can find someone better, go ahead. but know this: i’ll keep groveling and doing whatever it takes until you take me back. i’m not going anywhere, and i’ll make sure you remember what we had.” he took a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
you just smirked, turning on your heel to leave. as you reached the door, you glanced back over your shoulder with a cold, confident look. “i can’t wait to see you on your knees,” you said, your voice sharp. then, you walked out, leaving him alone with his mess.
game on.
(I WANT HIM TO GROVEL FOR MONTHSSSS)
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@daydreamerwoah
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lov-3-rs · 2 months ago
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Let’s be Honest
Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!
(mdni 18+)
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Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.
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The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.
You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.
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“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”
You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?
He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.
You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.
The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.
You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?
He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”
“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.
You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.
What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.
“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.
Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.
He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.
He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.
After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.
“As long as we’re honest with each other.”
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bluejutdae · 8 months ago
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Needy nerd Seungmin x you
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warnings: nsfw, sort of public sex
Needy nerd Seungmin who has a crush on you but he’s sure you don’t even know he exists. Jisung drags him to a party and you’re there. He hides behind a corner to look at you dancing with your friends, he’s so focused he doesn’t notice someone slamming into him so suddenly his glasses fall.
Needy nerd Seungmin who’s surprised when, while searching for his glasses, he sees a blurry hand offering him the aforementioned glasses. The moment he puts them on his nose, your face is brought into focus. He’s so embarrassed he just stands still looking at you, mouth agape and blinking rapidly. “Have fun!” you wish him as you leave and he wants to hide.
Needy nerd Seungmin who’s sitting in class and is ready to be an asshole to whoever just sat near him because people talk during class and he hates it, but when he raises his head he sees you and he’s back to the party, motionless save for his eyes that are blinking a bit too fast. You give him a small smile and get ready to listen to your prof.
Needy nerd Seungmin who spends the whole class trying to come up with something to tell you, only to end up speechless when, the moment class is dismissed, you turn to him and ask “Seungmin, right? Do you want to study together?” He can only nod, trying not to make a fool of himself. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve been trying to get his attention for the best part of this semester.
Needy nerd Seungmin sitting near you in a corner of the library, it’s empty and quiet because it’s a Friday night and almost everyone else is partying and living their college lives. He’s only pretending to study because you are wearing a skirt and he can see the skin of your thighs. He wants to know what it’d feel like under his hands, under his mouth.
Needy nerd Seungmin who whines way too loudly when you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, looking at him under your lashes. “You can move your hand a centimeter for each page you’ll actually study.” He’s already hard in his slacks, but now that he has a goal, he's gonna be a very fast student.
Needy nerd Seungmin who whimpers when, hidden behind a bookshelf, you suck on his neck. You touching his cock through his slacks, palming him, is too much for him, and he comes pressing against your hand.
Needy nerd Seungmin who’s like a puppy the moment after he just came:, licking at your neck, nosing at your skin and begging you to let him touch you properly.
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harmonic-intervention · 2 months ago
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Got a little inspired by Tim saying Buck wasn't spending as much time with Eddie because of his new relationship. Wouldn't leave me alone so enjoy my word vomit.
When Buck woke up, he did so gradually, slowly gaining awareness of the mattress and the frankly unholy amount of pillows under him, of the warmth settled right next to him, of the gentle stroke of a thumb over his lower arm.
Sighing, he moved, stretched like a cat in a sunbeam, and turned over onto his side, rolling right into the source of that pleasant warmth.
He didn't even open his eyes. Instead, he blindly found his way to his destination, burying his nose in the space right under a very nice jaw. He felt the vibration of the resulting chuckle right against his skin.
"Good morning," Tommy mumbled. "Sleep well?"
Buck nodded, but it ended up being more of a nuzzle. "The best."
A large hand found its way into the curls at the back of Buck's head and began gently scratching at his scalp, twirling a curl around a finger, the usual.
Buck finally found the will to move his face away from Tommy's throat and actually open his eyes. The light of the room was dim, the dark curtains keeping most of the sunlight out.
Tommy looked beautiful lying there with his hair all soft and fluffy. To be fair, Buck thought he always looked beautiful, and every time he looked at him, it was as if he became more and more so.
"Morning," Buck finally returned the greeting. He leaned in to steal a chaste kiss, but quickly found he wasn't satisfied with just one.
The same way that Tommy apparently wasn't satisfied with just a couple short ones, as a hand along Buck's jaw kept him close, and when his thumb found its place on the bolt of Buck's jaw, he opened up easily.
They hadn't been dating for all that long, but most of their mornings off were spent like this - in bed, luxuriating in the cozy, intimate atmosphere.
They both had come off of a long shift of not seeing each other, and now had the next 48 hours off together, so Buck had gone to Tommy's place after the end of his shift. He was going to spend the next two days glued to Tommy's side. A crowbar would not be able to pry him off.
Things were heating up steadily, the space between them being reduced down to nothing. Buck's hand started to make its way beneath the sheets to slide down Tommy's torso when he was interrupted by his phone vibrating on the nightstand.
Buck was determined to ignore it - whoever it was could just send him a message and he would get back to them - and sighed his relief right into Tommy's mouth when the call ended. His fingers skirted along the waistline of Tommy's boxers when the vibrating picked back up.
Still on his path of disregarding the existence of the outside world, Buck moved closer to Tommy, slotting a leg between his, and just when he was finally about to stop teasing them both and actually put his hand on Tommy's dick, his phone started acting up again.
Much to his dismay, Tommy moved his mouth away from his. "I think it's important."
Buck grumbled as he turned over to grab his phone, one hand still firmly in place on Tommy's body, "Whoever it is better have life insurance."
He ignored the soft snort that came from his boyfriend in favor of taking a look at his phone screen.
"It's Eddie."
"Better pick up."
Buck might have been ready to just turn his phone off, but Tommy's suggestion was much more reasonable. He nodded and turned back on his other side.
Tommy's eyes flitted down between them. "You gonna take your hand off my dick?"
"No," Buck replied with a wink and accepted the call. "Hey, Eddie."
Tommy shrugged and leaned in, finding something for his mouth to do. Namely go to town on Buck's throat.
"Buck, where are you? I'm at your place and it's empty."
It took a moment for Eddie's words to register, mostly because Buck was distracted by the hint of teeth against his adam's apple. "What- my place? We have a 48 off."
"Yeah, I thought we could hang out. You didn't mention any plans, did you have something?"
He didn't mention any plans because going over to Tommy's place had become the rule, not the exception.
"I'm at Tommy's." Syllables were getting harder to form when most of his brainpower was used to concentrate on hands sliding up and down his back, stopping just shy of his ass every time.
"Oh! Are both of you up, I could come by there, then."
Eddie started talking about something - probably what he had wanted to convince Buck to do with him, something about something, Buck would full-heartedly admit that he was not listening to a single word. Not when his super hot boyfriend was being a tease.
"Listen, man, that sound's great," probably, "but I'm kinda busy at the moment."
"What?"
Tommy chuckled against Buck's jugular, clearly having heard Eddie's confusion through the phone.
Buck was about to say something that would probably traumatize his best friend forever, when seemingly, he connected the dots by himself.
"Oh, ew, Buck! What the fuck?"
"Don't 'what the fuck' me, you wouldn't stop calling!" Buck exclaimed.
This time, Tommy let out an actual laugh, definitely loud enough to be picked up by the phone. Eddie groaned on the other side, sounding very much like he was regretting all of his life choices.
"Listen, we'd love to hang out, but maybe a bit later, yeah? Give us ..." Buck looked down at Tommy and raised an eyebrow, "like, an hour?"
Tommy's reply of, "Two hours," was muffled against Buck's collarbone. He had quickly gone back to ignoring the phone call in favor of biting at the edges of Buck's body.
"Two hours. Then you can come over."
Hands free and mind not pulled in two different directions, Buck immediately buried a hand in Tommy's hair and pulled him off. He narrowed his eyes at the spark of mischief in Tommy's own ones.
After getting Eddie's confirmation and the beginning of him lamenting his life, Buck simply hung up and tossed his phone onto the nightstand, uncaring whether it actually landed there or not.
"Having fun?" he asked with a put upon frown.
Tommy didn't even have the decency to look bothered by the grip that Buck had on his curls. "So far, yes."
Buck hauled him back in into a biting kiss, using the momentum of his own body to turn them over into the pillows.
He ignored the smug grin pressed against his mouth for now. He'd take care of that soon enough.
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butterymangowrites · 6 months ago
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permanent fix
soulmate au + a/b/o
paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader
warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu
word count: 2.2k
english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes
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Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace. 
For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you. 
So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly. 
“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.” 
“Didn’t ask for your opinions.” 
“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”
Oh, yeah. His fix. 
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words. 
‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’ 
But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck. 
You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks. 
Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.
“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”
Same here, asshole.
You thought, didn’t say out loud. 
Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times. 
Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him. 
Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt. 
In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no. 
That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas. 
There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl. 
“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”
And you could. But it was not without pain. 
“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.” 
He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.
“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.” 
You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you. 
Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before. 
The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games. 
You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch. 
He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them. 
‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’ 
Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’. 
It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper. 
‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name. 
Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast. 
‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’ 
Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’
He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’ 
As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do. 
Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call. 
The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.
But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups. 
“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?” 
“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.” 
You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?” 
“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”
You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage. 
The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.
Atsumu walked in. 
His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas. 
Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out. 
The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.” 
You just knew it was going to be a long night. 
Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum. 
You reeked of cum. 
‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’ 
He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag. 
‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’
‘Do you understand?’ 
You only nodded.
‘Words.’ 
‘Yes, Miya.’ 
‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’
‘Yes, Tsumu.’ 
Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’ 
That was last night. 
A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper, 
“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”
He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.
“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough. 
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randomshyperson · 7 months ago
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The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.
Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k
A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3
-&-
The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.
Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”
Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 
“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”
“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”
The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.
“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”
Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.
-&-
A stupid tree.
A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.
That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.
She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.
But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.
When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.
She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.
“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”
It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.
Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.
“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 
She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 
Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.
“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”
You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”
She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”
Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.
A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 
Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 
You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 
Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 
Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.
“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 
No. No thinking about this, not now.
She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.
She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 
“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.
“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.
“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.
“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.
“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.
Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.
Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 
You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.
When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.
“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 
There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”
But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.
“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.
For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.
“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”
You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 
“Can you use your words?”
“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”
She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 
But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.
“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.
“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.
It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.
The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.
To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.
Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.
“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”
“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”
You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 
Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 
“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 
Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 
Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 
It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.
She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.
“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.
“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 
As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.
“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”
Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.
She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.
“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”
You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.
“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.
You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.
Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.
“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 
“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 
“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”
You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.
Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.
Some old habits never die.
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holybibly · 3 months ago
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The unholy hour of the day, my sugar bunnies: Weirdo nerd Seonghwa has had a fondness for you for a long time, perhaps too much to be normal. So when he sees you on a crowded subway carriage, he takes the opportunity to pay his respects to you.
Warnings: Pervert nerd! Seonghwa, sub!reader, non-consensual groping, dubious consent, obsessive crush, light yandere, forced masturbation, light dub con
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'Please be careful; the doors are closing'. The monotonous, mechanical voice of the underground's automated announcement system echoes through the carriage, almost completely lost in the noise of the crowd. The tube is packed, but at this time of day, that's to be expected. You hated taking the train at rush hour, but unfortunately your classes always ended at that time, and you had no choice but to use the Tube to get home, even though it felt like hell at that time, rather than a comfortable and fast ride. 
You always travelled the same way. Day after day, month after month, and in all this time nothing has changed about your trip. Firstly, the subway was always crowded, and having lived in Seoul for the last two years, you'd already gotten used to that. Secondly, there are never any seats when you get on, so you always have to stand. You even somehow managed to put up with the fact that you were always being pushed or squeezed into a corner, which you managed to squeeze into despite the carriage being almost full.
Today was no different at all. You let out a heavy sigh and made your way to the nearest available handrail in the far corner as you were pushed for what seemed like the hundredth time when the carriage doors hissed open and a new stream of passengers poured in. You grabbed hold of the cold metal handrail, trying to take up as little space as possible, while other passengers squeezed past you or kept changing their position in an attempt to get the most convenient and comfortable seat. Someone's elbow is resting on your rib, and you frown, trying to move as far away as possible, which only makes you squeeze harder into the corner. But there's not enough room, and you shriek slightly as the pressure on your ribs increases. The girl next to you bows her head, apologising as she hears this, and moves away from you, finally allowing you to breathe normally. You let out another sigh, clutching your bag tightly to your chest and gripping the handrail even tighter as the train continues to rush forward.
Just a little longer, you say to yourself, eight more stops to go and you'll finally be able to get out of here. 
Once again you hear the mechanical hissing of the doors and the automated voice warning the passengers to be more careful, and it seems to you that the carriage has become even more cramped, but it still does not prevent you from trying to adapt in some way. Dozens of people get on and off at each stop, and you're pushed again, but this time relatively gently. It doesn't matter anyway, you're used to it and ready to just brush it off, but someone's broad, cold hand rests on your bare thigh, just where the edge of your pleated skirt ends. For a second, you feel the stranger's fingers slide over your soft skin under your short skirt, and your breath catches in your throat, your heart beginning to beat faster with each passing moment. This can't be happening, can it? Maybe you're just imagining it? The stranger's cold touch on your thighs fades away as suddenly as it came, but it's enough to make you feel the cold lingering on your skin for a long time afterwards.
"You're so beautiful." A soft, velvety voice whispers from behind you, and you almost jump at the sound. 'So beautiful…' The carriage you're in is packed to the point that you can barely turn your head back to look at whoever that voice belongs to, which one makes goosebumps crawl across your skin. Your eyes widen as you see behind you none other than university oddish nerd Park Seonghwa, who is literally trapping you in a crowded subway car. He's too close to you. Close enough to be intimate. 
Not that you had a bad opinion of Seonghwa; no, he was a relatively nice and harmless guy, but there was still something about him that made people stay away from him. Maybe it was the too intense and focused look in his dark cat eyes, or maybe it was his slightly odd behaviour that was hard to explain; either way, Park Seonghwa was not popular, even though he was pretty, and not just pretty, but really handsome, as if sculpted by the hand of a great master. Another thing that put people off him was that he was a real nerd and had an obsession with Lego and Animal Crossing. You didn't see much of him in your classes, even though you were in the same study group as him; from what you heard, he was in an advanced class and was more likely to jerk off to textbooks than girls. In general, you didn't know much about him other than the gossip you heard from your friends. 
''S-Seonghwa, let me go, please…'' Your voice trembles slightly as you turn to him. There is a strange expression frozen on his handsome face, one that you are unable to decipher. He looks drunk—his big eyes are blurry and unfocused, his mouth is open from heavy breathing, his cheeks are flushed, and there is a bead of sweat on his forehead. There is obviously something wrong with him, but Seonghwa is a good guy, isn't he? He wouldn't do anything to hurt you, or at least you wanted to believe that. 
You don't hear him answer as the train makes a sharp turn and Seonghwa pushes you against the wall of the carriage, his body pressed tightly against yours. You freeze, like a mouse caught in the claws of a cat, as you feel his cold hands squeeze your soft, plump thighs, right under your buttocks. You tug at the hem of your skirt in an attempt to push Seonghwa's hands away from you, but he doesn't let you go; instead, his fingers dig harder into your flesh even more, and you're sure you'll be bruised afterwards. You feel the fast, erratic beating of his heart against your back as he leans into you, as if he's trying to melt into you, to become one with your body.
"I'm sorry…' He whispers to you again, his hot breath brushing your ear and his sensual, full lips touching your soft, thin skin with each letter. You've always admired his lips—so full and kissable—and you've even wondered what they would feel like when he kissed you, but right now you wish you could erase that touch from your skin forever. Something hard and intimidatingly large presses against your lower back as he grips your hips tighter, literally piling on top of you. The sickly sweet smell of strawberries and cream invades all of your senses, and you find yourself trapped between the dirty wall of the subway car and the hard, hot body of Seonghwa. You've never noticed how tall he is compared to you—you're invisible behind him; nobody can see what he's doing to you. "I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it… You're too beautiful… too beautiful for me to control myself. I'm so sorry…' He lowers his head onto your shoulder, his long black hair tickling the skin on your neck as you stare unblinkingly into the dirty wall, terror running through you to the bone, rendering you completely immobile as Seonghwa pushes his hips into you, fucking your arse on the crowded train like a dog in heat.
Your lips begin to tremble, hot tears gathering in your eyes, threatening to spill out and run down your cheeks, smearing your make-up, as Seonghwa's one hand slides up the curve of your hip and higher up your waist, your ribs, over the thin lace of your bra to cradle your right tit. 
'Oh fuck...' Seonghwa hisses as he squeezes the soft flesh of your breast in the palm of his hand. His fingers pull the cup of your bra down so that your tit is completely exposed. "Exactly as I thought... your tits are so big and soft. I want to fuck them so badly. I want to come on your tits; cover them with my sperm. I want to suck on your fucking tits while you are riding on me, angel." He continues to rub his cock against your plump buttocks, whimpering into your skin. 
'N-no, please don't, Seonghwa. Please stop it...' You sob, hoping that your pathetic pleas will bring him to his senses. But it seems to have the exact opposite effect, making him even more aroused. You tremble at his touch as Seonghwa continues fucking you, his rough hand caressing your naked breasts, his hard cock sliding between your buttocks through his jeans and skirt. 
"Please move away from the doors." The train stops, the mechanical hiss of the doors hissing through the crowd. You pray that Hwa will let you go, but he doesn't. For a moment, he stops pushing into you and keeps you pressed up against the wall. His breath is unpleasantly warm against your ear, making you shiver.
'Seonghwa...' You try once more. "Seonghwa, please let me go. I won't tell anyone... I promise. Please leave me alone..." The tears begin to flow freely down your face as you continue to beg him to let you go. But Seonghwa is completely unresponsive; instead, he starts to leave wet, smeared kisses on your neck. His lips are soft, too soft, like down pillows, unpleasantly slippery and wet from copious amounts of saliva mixed with lip balm as cloying strawberry as he is. From the outside, you probably look like a couple deeply in love. Seonghwa is protective, wrapped around you like a snake, and to everyone else, he looks like a caring guy. If only they knew...
The thought of screaming crosses your mind, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared when the train starts moving again and Hwa slips his other hand under your shirt and wraps it around your left breast. His hand greedily squeezes the soft flesh over the thin lace of your bra before he pulls it down as well, exposing your tits to the full extent. You hate yourself for the fact that his touch is causing your nipples to begin to tense and your pussy to clench around nothing. You've always been hypersensitive, and that's generally nothing unusual, but this situation...
You shouldn't react like this; you don't want Seonghwa to touch you; you don't want to feel his hands on your body, but then why are you biting your lip and trying your best to suppress the obscene sounds that are coming out of your mouth right now? 
"That's it, Angel. I'll make you feel good. I'll be worshipping you, pretty girl, the way I've always wanted to be. And you can't blame me for that; you've got everything to blame yourself for. You're too beautiful, too beautiful for me to let you go..." Seonghwa's hands, gently rocking your breasts as if he could feel the weight of them, his fingers running over your aureoles, stimulating you while avoiding your swollen nipples.
You sob loudly as you feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You don't want to give in to the pleasure that is growing deep inside you, especially not in the presence of so many people and even less so in Seonghwa's hands, but there is nothing you can do about it. He gives you a sharp pinch on your nipples as the mechanical voice announces the name of the next stop, and it covers up the moan that escapes from your lips. 
"You feel so good, angel." He whispers to you in a velvety voice.  "Your little nipples are so hard and tender. I want to take them into my mouth and suck them until you come. I'm sure I can make you come just from that." Seonghwa's voice is full of dark promise, and it makes more and more moisture pour out of your hole. Shame washes over you like a wave, and you cover your eyes, trying to come to terms with the unwanted pleasure that is growing inside of you. You clench your hands tighter around your bag as Hwa continues to play with your breasts. Squeezing and massages them, rubbing and pinching your nipples, at the same time leaving hot, painful hickeys on your neck. "You were made for me, my angel. I always knew it. I knew it the moment I saw you." One of his hands releases your breasts and slides down your body. Your eyes go wide in horror as you realise where Seonghwa's hand is going, but it's too late because... He slides his hand easily between your thighs, wrapping your pussy, over the lace of the thong, whose fabric is soaked with your slime. 
"Look at you; you're all wet for me."
'I-I'm not, please, just stop...' For the first time since Seonghwa cornered you, you try to resist him. Your hand trembles as you try to pull his hand off your cunt, but Hwa just pushes it away. Then you start to wriggle in his grip, trying to push him away from you, but it doesn't help. Seonghwa is bigger and stronger than you, and all your movements instead make you rub your wet pussy harder against his palm between your thighs.
"Don't be embarrassed about it, angel. You just have to admit that you want it just as much as I do."
The train stops again, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to pull the wet lace of your thong aside, exposing your smooth, plump pussy to his touch. You can't hold back a moan as his fingers outline a figure of eight around your clit. 
"Please... Seonghwa... you don't have to do this." You sob, lowering your head to somehow hide the way your cheeks are flushed from everything he's doing to you. 
'But how can I, angel? You're so ready for me...' He pulls his hand away from your pussy for a second and brings them up to your face. You watch in horror as he spreads his fingers, pulling strands of your arousal between them before they break apart, coating his long appendages with your stickiness. "You see that? Your slutty pussy is all wet and sticky; how can I ignore it?" You barely manage to hold back a loud moan as Seonghwa slides his hand down and, without any preamble, pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. The stretching stings, but with it comes pleasure. It's clouds your mind and overshadows any sense of decency or shame. Seonghwa begins to fuck you, twisting his fingers inside you and stroking your slippery, trembling walls with slightly calloused fingertips. Over the din of the other passengers' voices, you can almost hear the squelching of your unacceptably wet pussy.
"You are so tight, my angel. I should stretch your cunt before you take my cock. I'll do my best; we don't want your sweet pussy to be in pain, do we?" With these words, Seonghwa inserts another finger into you.
Everything in you shrinks in shame as the pleasure becomes too much to ignore—your legs spread so Hwa can fuck you harder and deeper, his finger pads pressed against your sweet spot, and your eyes roll back at the sharp pleasure coursing through your body.
It's disgusting, no, it's more than disgusting, and deep inside you despise yourself for giving yourself up to him so easily, for not putting up any resistance at all to Seonghwa, for letting him fuck you so expertly with his long fingers. 
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snowberrycherry · 1 year ago
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threesome headcannons with könig and ghost
warnings: fem!reader, nsfw soo mdni pls
[a/n] def turning this into a fic yass based on a request 🕊️ignore typos
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✧ könig loves seeing you try to take all of him in your mouth, the gagging and choking noises with his soft hands firmly in your hair pressing you down more while ghost stands behind you grabbing your hips and slams into your used pussy
✧ they both love to spank you when they take you from the back especially könig. something about it makes him even hornier even though he’s so deep inside of you
✧ ghost likes fucking you in missionary while könig leans down and hungrily sucks on your clit watching you moan and whimper at the double stimulation all over your cunt.
✧ they’re just so needy for you that they subtly get jealous when they see the other buried into your sopping pussy
✧ they both like to see who can make you scream and groan the loudest while licking and slurping all over your cunt and whoever does gets to fuck you first.
✧ ghost holding you against his lap, prying and keeping your legs apart, whispering how good you’re doing for both of them while könig eats you out so messily and sloppy. he’s just so excited and so turned on
✧ they both like to run their hands all over your body, praising you for being so perfect, that you were made just for them to fuck you senseless and no one else.
✧ if ghost fucks you first, it leaves könig to whimper and whine as he jerks himself off to the sight of you moaning, know that soon it’ll be his turn to make you feel even better he’s competitive srry
✧ they both like to suck on your tits at the same time. the feeling over two different mouths licking and sucking at your nipples while they groan and grunt gets you so turned on
✧ ghost eating your pussy using gentle and soft, but long and firm licks. dragging his tongue up and down your cunt, relishing in your juices while maintaining eye contact while könig nibbles and kisses all over your neck, eventually going down to your tits to do the same
✧ or vice versa. with simons lips tracing over the skin on your neck making his way down to your tits, sucking on your nipples with königs head buried between your thighs. but unlike simon he’s a messy eater by keeping his eyes closed and guides your hips to grind on his face. he’s just desperate for you to cum all over his tongue
✧ könig will make you sit down on his face eagerly waiting to taste you while simon is in front of you, kissing your intensely while grabbing at your hips so you can ride königs face even faster, suffocating him with your cunt just the way he likes it
✧ simon and konig like watching you suck their cocks at the same time, they think it’s so cute seeing you try to lick and suck both of them at the same time, attempting to balance it so they both have the same time with you hot mouth bobbing up and down on their cocks
✧ they both live for pulling orgasm after orgasm from you,until your overstimulated and your legs are shaking and they keep praising for doing so good just for them
✧ könig making ghost watch while he takes his time with you, making sure you’re ready for both of them by fingering you gently, allowing his long fingers and his wet tongue prepare you
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megamindsecretlair · 18 days ago
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Sweet Escape, Part 1
Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, suicide, depression, power imbalance. Mentions of blood, knife, and violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. With freakish threats escalating, you turn to your stoic bodyguard, Terry, in hopes that you’ll finally feel safe and like you belong.
Word Count: 5,102k
AO3 Link
A/N: I know we all have bodyguard Terry on our brains so here's my contribution! I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You felt like a damn doll. You’d been plucked, prodded, lifted, and separated so many times, you felt like you were melting beneath the studio lights. This was the last interview of the morning and you were ready to slip back into your slippers and call it a fucking day. 
As production assistants flittered around like chickens with their heads cut off, you scanned the room. The lights prevented you from seeing much, but you were able to make out your best friend and manager, Mirage, and your personal assistant, Joya standing by the monitors. Mirage gave you a thumbs up and you sighed.
Mirage knew you inside and out. She giggled, knowing that you wanted to turn all this shit over by now. They wanted you to be here on time but the messy host, A’Kierra West, was nowhere to be found. And if there was one thing you hated, it was to be kept waiting. 
A makeup assistant came up to you and blotted you with a napkin. You smiled at her. “Thank you,” you said. 
The assistant blinked and got startled and you lifted an eyebrow at her. You’d been nothing but nice so you didn’t know where that reaction was coming from. The assistant fled from the stage and you put it out of your mind.
You bit the corners of your cheeks to keep from exploding. Right as you were about to call out to Mirage, A’Kierra waltzed into the room in a cloud of hairspray and her defining feature, her big ass boobs. The boobs preceded her into the room, tucked into a too small red dress that was better suited for clubbing than a talk show. 
A’Kierra took her sweet, precious, slow time making her way to the stage, stopping to talk to the directors and producers, before finally gracing the stage with her presence. You stood up, since it was technically polite, and gave her the fake Hollywood kiss to both cheeks. 
She smelled like an old white lady at Macy’s. The cloying, flowery scent tickled your nose. You wrinkled your nose and sniffed.
“It’s new! I’m so glad you love it. I’ll send your assistant a bottle!” A’Kierra said. She grinned, showing a row of veneers too large for her face. You smiled to keep your face from showing your true emotions. This bitch was nuts.
“Thank you! I can’t wait!” You said and sat back down in your seat. “So we did the promo and the commercial, now we just do the whole intro and get into it,” A’Kierra explained.
“I’ve done a few of these,” you said.
A’Kierra laughed, the shrill sound like nails on a chalkboard. Her deep brown skin glowed with shimmery lotion but it only served to make her look washed out in the dress. Whoever was dressing her must hate her. 
“Yes, but you’ve never done my show before,” she sniffed. A makeup assistant floated onto the stage out of the shadows and touched up A’Kierra’s lipstick. “Thank you, darling. Make sure my coffee is nice and hot when we’re done?” 
The director emerged between the cameras giving his final notes on the taping. He instructed you to be natural and relaxed. You glance slid towards Mirage who hid a grin behind her hand. The phone that was permanently glued to her hand hid most of her face, but you already knew what she was laughing at. 
Optics…Optics…
The director counted down and then the popular theme song of the show played. The audience you couldn’t see began clapping loudly, wildly, as if you were on stage for a concert rather than an interview taping.
A’Kierra cued up the questions Mirage had you go over earlier. You handled each question well, playing to the crowd, and leaning into the persona you crafted for the world. The carefree, girl power, rah-rah, confident diva with strong knees and an even stronger pair of lungs. 
“But what do you say to all of these mommy coalitions calling for your head, saying you’re a bad influence on their children? Saying you’re over-sexed, lewd, and not lady like at all?” 
It was only your media training that kept you from unleashing your pent up fury. You giggled and shook your head. This was not in the script. “What do you mean?” You asked, giving yourself time to answer. 
“Some may say that the rise in your career also gave rise to all these conservative groups, using you to fund their message of protecting their children from your explicit lyrics and lifestyle. It’s no secret that girls and young women look up to you. Is this really the message you want to send out?” A’Kierra smirked, leaning back in her seat. She crossed her legs, and tapped her notecards against her knee. 
You smiled and chuckled. “I’d say…I’m not responsible for your kids. Maybe if they spent more time paying attention to what their kids are listening to than up my perfect ass, there wouldn’t be an issue. I promote self-confidence for adults. I make grown music for adults. At no point have I ever claimed to be a role model for young girls and I’m not responsible for what these mommy coalitions think of me,” you said with a sweet, saccharine grin. 
A’Kierra kept a smile plastered to her face but there was more than enough ooh’s and aww’s coming from the audience. You stared A’Kierra down, communicating with just looks. She blinked first, clearing her throat and organizing her cards. “Well, that’s certainly a take!” A’Kierra said and laughed along with the audience.
You giggled with her, feeding into all the fake bullshit. This was the last show you wanted to be on. But the optics. Fuck the fucking optics. This show trafficked in gossip and rumors, more focused on catching people on lies and half-truths than speaking about something normal. 
Once the cameras stopped rolling, you waved to the audience and then removed the mic pack from your hip. You passed it to the nearest production assistant, wanting to be free of wires for a long, long time. Well, at least until your next city stop.
Mirage and Joya fell in step beside you, going over the next few items on your list today. When you were done here, you had a small promo shoot for the next city you were going to be in. It’d been a while since you were in LA and you were looking forward to the In and Out burger you were going to inhale at the first chance you got. 
By the door to the studio, your heart skipped a beat looking over the scrumptious, delectable piece of meat you had for a bodyguard. Terry Richmond came highly recommended through the agency you typically used. You ran through their sorry excuse for bodyguards like a kid went through candy. 
But Terry was different. From the first meeting, he was completely professional, calm, and courteous. He didn’t bullshit you with flattery, he didn’t flirt to get with his dream girl, and he treated you like a normal person. That alone had you saying yes before the ink could dry on the contract. 
Add in the fact that he was a former Marine and prepared for…just about everything, you’d felt safe in his presence in a way that you hadn’t with other bodyguards. You didn’t know what led him to this position, but you were glad fate was looking out for you.
“Careful Mr. Terry, stand any straighter, and your back might hurt,” you said. 
Terry stood ready with his hands in front of him, one hand holding the other wrist. He dressed plainly in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, showing off huge, bulging muscles. He slanted his ever-changing eyes towards you but there was no other sign that he heard you. 
He went through the door first, taking his job a smidgen too seriously. “Would it kill you to talk, Mr. Terry?” You asked.
Joya handed you your phone and you absently went through your texts as you walked. “No, ma’am,” he said. 
You nearly faltered in your steps. He actually answered. You shook your head in amazement, feeling a thrill that he was in a chatty mood today. You glanced up from your phone to watch his ass move in his jeans. 
He was unreal. A fantasy in a male body that he honed to perfection. Bless his genes, seriously, because there wasn’t a single flaw on the man. 
“See, we’re almost having a conversation,” you said. You handed Joya back your phone with your thanks and followed Terry to the greenroom. You couldn’t wait to take off the fugly silver outfit. Why were you so damn shiny?
“We have plenty of conversations, princess,” he said. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his back. He called you that when he thought you were being a little shit. He approached your dressing room and entered first, doing a quick scan for any potential threats. You waited in the cramped hallway for his inspection to get done. He emerged back out turned those sinful eyes on you. 
“It’s safe to go in,” he said.
You smirked at him. “Try not to miss me for the thirty minutes it’ll take to get all of this off,” you said. You tilted your head at him. Terry blinked at you. You sighed.  “You’re no fun!” 
Terry’s lips lifted in the corners. “I’m plenty of fun. Thirty minutes,” he said, his rich, deep voice soothing. 
“Yes, sir,” you said. You gave him a stern, no-nonsense nod and grinned at him. He did the little smirking thing of his and let you walk into the room with Joya and Mirage hot on your heels. 
Once the door closed, Joya collapsed against the door frame with a wistful sigh. “I wanna pass out every time I get near that man,” she said, fanning herself with the planner she always carried around. It suited her more to write all of your appointments down rather than inputting it into a digital calendar anyone could hack. She never put the thing down. You half suspected that she slept with it under her pillow.
All of the safety measures were sweet, but after a month of no contact from your supposed stalker, you were starting to feel out of sorts. Like this life wasn’t real and you were watching your life pass by on a television set somewhere in a white room. 
The first thing you did was take off your platform heels, sighing as your feet sank into the plush paisley rug. “Zip, please,” you said to Mirage. 
Mirage chuckled at Joya and helped unzip the tight dress you wore. Air returned to your lungs with every inch gained and you sighed again. “He really is too pretty,” Mirage said quietly. 
“Too damn pretty!” You agreed. That was definitely a concern for you when you met up with him. But after twenty minutes of conversation, you were able to glean two things from the mysterious Mr. Richmond. For one, he didn’t play, ever. He was as stoic as any soldier you’d ever run across. And two, something happened to him. Something…soul changing. 
Maybe it was a lost love, maybe it was a personal tragedy. Whatever it was, it made him immune to you. You flirted, you teased, you harassed the man. And he kept his attention on guarding your body. Like you hired him to do. 
You pouted as you approached a cabinet in the room that stored your real clothes. Next to it, there was a clothing rack with outfit choices that you had discarded. Thoughts of how you could get under Terry’s skin kept you occupied as you opened the cabinet doors and shrieked at the gruesome sight before you. 
Your clothes were cut up to shreds, a confetti of fabric at the bottom of the cabinet. Joya and Mirage joined you and shrieked in their own horror. There was a replica mask of your own face staring back at you pinned to the door with a large, very illegal knife. Blood – or god, what you hoped wasn’t real blood – dripped from the mask and down the cabinet door.
The mask was uncanny. One of the most realistic ones you’d ever seen. Terry rushed into the room, gun in his hand but pointed towards the floor. He scanned the room with a flick of his eyes, immediately moving in front of you, and shielding you from the mask. 
It was too late. The image was already burned into your retinas. His massive back took up your field of vision, but due to the black t-shirt, it only let your mind drift. Your mind’s eye recalled the mask in every finite detail and your stomach turned with churning bile. 
“I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered. 
Terry closed the cabinet with his elbow, turning around to you. You looked at him, just in time to feel dizzy. Your knees buckled and Terry caught you, yelling to Mirage and Joya for a doctor. 
Terry hefted you into his arms and left the room. Outside, the cold blast of air in the hallway shocked you enough to not slip into unconsciousness. Terry positioned you on the nearest crate.
The air in your chest began to boil, clawing its way through your clogged throat. Distantly, you knew that you were hyperventilating. But all you saw was your own face. Your own soulless slouched face, rubbery, with makeup stains on the teeth, and a giant knife through the forehead. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Terry said. He grabbed both sides of your face. You grunted, trying to shake your head. Trying to shake him off of you. His foreboding presence was screaming for you to run. 
“Breathe. Breathe, princess,” he said. 
You groaned, turning your head away. You couldn’t stop seeing it. Your face. Your face. Your face. 
“Count with me. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” Terry counted.
“What?” You whispered. Terry tightened his grip on your face and forced you to look at him. His startling light eyes bore into yours. 
“Count. Six,” he said. He was so close that you could count every single one of his long, pretty eyelashes. 
Your body shook uncontrollably. A lone tear dripped from your eye and you rubbed it away. “Don’t do that. Let yourself feel it,” he coached.
You shook your head. “Never cry,” you whispered. You narrowed your eyes at him. Whatever he saw in your eyes, he backed off. He nodded. 
“Count then. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” he said.
“Six…four…”
“Start again,” he said.
He repeated the numbers easily, remembering whatever asinine digits he wanted you to repeat. You needed away. You needed to be free. You groaned and jerked in his hold. The image of your face twisted and melted in your eyes. Turning your memory into slush. What was even real anymore?
“If you can’t do it, I’ll start with three numbers,” he said.
You huffed as you turned your attention back to him, repeating his damn numbers. You had to slow down, had to think about which number came next. Nine and one were the easiest to remember. For some reason, you kept wanting to throw a seven in there.
When you were able to repeat it three times without stopping to think, Terry lowered his hands from your face. You shivered at the lack of contact. His big paws covered your entire face, generating heat. Now that you no longer had it, you felt colder than ever. 
Another tear threatened to fall but you were much calmer now. Better able to hold back the raging tempest inside. Later. Later you could break down. But it wouldn’t be here.
“Who would do…”
“Someone who doesn’t know the difference between a fantasy and a reality,” he said. 
It was quiet in the hallway. The studio was on the other side, down the hall. At the T-instersection where you were, there weren’t even assistants carrying things. It was just the two of you. 
Terry stood directly in front of you, pushed in between your legs so that he could bend and cup your face. Now, you were acutely aware of how close he was. How his chest rose and fell as if he were the one calming down from the scariest shit of his life. And you were the one who found a fan had attempted to kill himself in your swimming pool a month ago. This far surpassed that harrowing night.
“I just wanted to sing. I wanted to stop being invisible. I never asked for this,” you said, the back of your eyes burning with the need to cry. You hadn’t cried in years. The well had long dried. And now twice within Terry’s presence, you wanted to break down and lay it all at his feet.
“You were never invisible,” he said softly. 
Terry gave you a look you couldn’t quite describe but knew instantly. Almost like for a brief moment, he knew you inside and out and didn’t flinch. You cleared your throat and straightened up a little. You grabbed the front of your dress and crossed your arms. The air from the closest vent blew across your back and made you shiver.
Mirage jogged down the hallway with a paramedic close on her heels. She was scrambling, practically in tears, as she ran down. Terry cleared his throat and stepped back, finally turning those crystal eyes away from you. The spell he’d woven broke, stealing your breath. 
You took a deep breath to get it back and fended off Mirage after she clung to you, telling you how worried she was. “I’m fine, babe, I promise,” you said. You waved off the EMT and Terry pushed the EMT forward.
“Let him do his job,” Terry ordered. And for some reason, that didn’t bother you a bit. You shut your mouth and stared at Terry while the EMT went through his preliminary workup. He shined light in your eyes, asking you basic questions like your name, age, and where you were. 
You answered all of his questions, without attitude. For once feeling like you didn’t have to come out swinging first. The EMT cleared you for shock, telling you to get some rest. “I have a photo shoot to keep,” you said, shaking your head. 
“Not anymore,” Terry said. 
“You don’t get to make that call,” you shot back. The EMT looked between the both of you, the subtle daggers you were throwing each other. The EMT quickly put up his supplies and slipped from between you and Terry. 
“I’m tasked with protecting you. Let me,” he said. 
You hopped off of the crate and watched two officers arrive, stepping into your dressing room with security guards from the studio. You stood up straight and pulled on that bitchy persona you were known for. You wore it like a well-used coat, broken in and comfortable. 
“Your job is to guard me wherever I may be. I only have a few more stops on this tour and this incel isn’t going to ruin my dream. If that’s going to be a problem for you, I can call your agency,” you said. You looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. Wondered if you were able to fool him after he’d gotten a peek behind your four inch thick walls. 
Terry leaned back, his stare turning hard. Judging. Your lips parted on a silent gasp. “No need. We’re clear,” he said, his voice just as hard as his eyes. Cold like diamonds. His jaw flexed and he stared straight ahead, giving you a blank, thousand yard stare.
Joya ran into the hallway, pushing past looky-loos and producers. Everybody had a phone out. It’d only be a matter of time before the press caught wind and accosted you outside. You couldn’t leave in this stupid dress. 
Joya finally poked her tiny head up from between the gathering crowd. She held a bag in her hand and handed it to Mirage, leaning over to grab her knees and huff. “Emergency stash,” she huffed.
“You’re a genius, Joya,” Mirage said. 
You avoided Terry’s gaze as you walked further down the hall to a different dressing room. Terry cleared this one first, moving about the room more thoroughly than he did the last. He opened the cabinet and you flinched, half expecting another doppelganger staring at you. 
Nothing jumped out so Terry brushed past. “All clear,” he said. 
He closed the door and you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That was bitchy of you. Hella bitchy and he didn’t deserve it. You paid him to worry about your safety. You snorted. You were paying people to care about you now. That’s how far you’d fallen. 
“Dare we ask?” Joya asked. 
Mirage turned to her, making a cut it out gesture. “You can say it. I was mean for no reason,” you said. You peeled the silver dress off of your body and shivered. Felt like shedding snake skin. That was the last thing you needed to visualize. 
“It wasn’t…not..for a good reason,” Mirage said.
“It was out of line,” you said. You didn’t typically feel guilty this soon after pulling the diva card. It usually took a few days. After you were half deep into your favorite bottle of wine with only Mirage and Joya as your company.
Joya handed you a pair of leggings, an oversized orange sweater, and a pair of socks. You quickly got dressed, pulling your hair into the best ponytail you could manage. She handed you a hat and a pair of sunglasses. You sighed, feeling more like yourself. You liked dressing up in your costumes for the tour, liked getting pretty like the dolls you used to play with. But there came a time when you just wanted to pig out in a pair of sweats or shorts. 
You slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and Joya draped the silver dress over the back of the couch. She took out her planner, flipping to a sticky pad that she scribbled a note on. She stuck the paper to the door of the dressing room.
Terry looked you up and down, noting your wardrobe change. He looked at Joya and nodded and she giggled breathlessly. 
“Look, Terry,” you began, ready to own up to what you did. 
“We’re good. Stay on me, okay?” He asked. 
You nodded. Terry used his full height to stalk down the hallway. You avoided looking at your dressing room. At the…you were going to be sick. Your stomach twisted as you passed the room, passed the police. 
“I already talked to them. They know about the, um, you know. They won’t need to question you,” Mirage said.
“Thank God,” you said. 
Terry pushed and ordered people to move as he led you out of the studio and to the black truck parked in the connected parking lot. He opened the door for you and you paused before climbing in. 
“I’m sorry about what I said. Truly,” you said. Terry’s eyes defrosted a fraction. He glanced at you and nodded. 
“We’re good,” he said. 
You nodded and hopped in the car. Mirage and Joya hopped in on the other side. Terry walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in, pulling out of the driveway just as the first news cameras were arriving. 
You sighed and leaned against the backseat. “Great thinking, Joya,” you commended. 
“Thanks, but it was Mirage. She made the point that the press was going to have a field day and I took off,” she said. She had her pen and phone out, staring down at your calendar. 
“I called ahead and told them that we were going to be late because of what happened. They said they can move the shoot if you–”
“No. I can’t slow down,” you said. Your schedule was held together by glue, paperclips, and chewing gum. Together with Mirage, you managed to carve out true rest periods. Slots of entire hours where you didn’t have to go anywhere, didn’t have to smile at this, or endorse that. 
Your mind drifted back to what you told Terry in the studio. All you ever wanted to do was sing. You watched countless videos of your favorite singers, sung your heart out whenever you had the chance, snuck and took singing lessons because you knew that this was where you wanted to be.
Hollywood never showed the uglier parts. The parts where it felt like there would always be a thousand hands crawling all over your skin. Thousands of fans taking it too far. Sending you disturbing videos of either their tiny dicks, feet, moles, chest hairs, or telling you how much you sucked at singing. They said you were overrated. Mannish. Too full of yourself. Every one of them had a different fantasy of you in their heads. Every one of them wanted a piece of you. And whoever this maniac was, they weren’t going to stop until they succeeded in killing you. 
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. It might be time to step down from singing for a while,” you said.
“What! Noooo. Why? Because of this loser?” Mirage asked. 
“It’s everything. I’m just so tired,” you whispered. Terry’s eyes flicked to yours in the rearview mirror. Your eyes burned again and you looked away from him. Curse him and his damn hypnotizing eyes. 
Terry got you to the photoshoot without breaking any traffic laws. But he was close. He escorted you to the door, a steady presence the entire way. No one was getting through Terry. That thought put you at ease as you turned your mind off and went back to the doll everyone wanted you to be.
Hours later, Terry was at the receptionist’s desk at the hotel coordinating your move. You were switching hotel rooms, again. You were packed up and loaded up into the truck, again. You were checking into a different hotel, classier than the last, under a different name and was once again in the elevator with Terry by your side. 
He hardly carried a duffle bag. A small thing that looked silly bouncing against his big ass. Terry escorted you to the room, dropping his bag to the floor. He unsheathed his gun and pressed it close to his body. 
“Wait here,” he said. He opened the door with the keycard and let himself in first. He turned on the light and swept through the entire suite, checking behind every nook and cranny. You followed behind him anyway. Even if your stalker did manage to find the place, there was no way he had enough time to set a trap. 
Terry came back into the foyer and stopped up short when he saw you looking at the complimentary wine bottle. You read over the standard hotel note. “I told you to wait outside,” he said and put up his gun. 
“I’m tired and I want to lay down.” You waved him off. What you really wanted to do was take a hot fucking bath and bawl your eyes out. The “later” had finally come and you wanted to break down in peace. 
Terry moved to the door and grabbed his duffle, bringing it inside. He closed and locked the door, putting on the safety latch for good measure. He slung the duffle over his shoulder and walked to the adjoining suite door. He opened it and then stopped across to his side of it.
“I’ll be right on the other side if you need anything,” he said. You leaned against the open door and gave him a small smile. 
“Thanks, Terry. For today,” you said.
“It’s my job right?” He asked.
You groaned and rolled your eyes. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?” You asked. 
Terry smiled tightly, like he wasn’t quite used to it anymore. “Not a chance, princess,” he said. 
You rolled your eyes again, pinching your lips together to keep from smiling. All it did was bunch up your cheeks and give away the rising heat in your cheeks. “Goodnight, Mr. Terry,” you said.
“Goodnight,” he said. He closed the door and you stood on the other side of it. Wondering what it must be like to know him intimately. To know what made him smile or laugh. What made his eyes light up with joy. Or what brought such sadness to his eyes. 
You wondered what it would be like to fall into his arms, easily, readily, and have him embrace you like you were the most precious thing in the world. For a brief moment, you let yourself daydream. Let the fantasy take shape in your mind.
That was a much more comforting image to hold onto than the crushing weight of the day. You turned away from the door, heading to your side of the suite. You entered your room and ran yourself a bath.
The room steamed up with heat from the bath you ran. The clawfoot tub was pristine, with an ornate faucet. The rug underneath felt like clouds. You focused on the strangeness around you. 
The few trips you did take were nothing like this. You stayed in nice hotels, hotels your family was able to afford, but not like this. It didn’t stink like mold. The opposite. There was some kind of subtle, expensive perfume in the air. 
The bathroom was so spacious, you could fit three clawfoot bathtubs in it and still have room left over. You were in the lap of luxury and it felt like a gilded cage, designed to keep you in a perpetual state of “other”. Temporary. In the world but never of it. 
You turned off the hot water and swirled your hands through the foamy bubbles. It was the perfect temperature so you took off your clothes, threw on a bonnet, and sank in. The heated water was a welcome balm, soothing the tension you carried in your body. 
The tears came too easily, just under the surface. It slipped down your cheeks and you finally let yourself break down. Allowed yourself to feel the stress and loneliness of the day. You had one of the most horrific days of your life and everybody who mattered already knew about it. 
There was no one to vent to. No one who wasn’t already on your payroll. And to be honest, that hurt most of all. 
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Ya'll know what I'm about. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
Taglist: This skyrocketed LOL. I love ya'll, so so much!
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unluckilyimnot · 7 months ago
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it’s summer were I live so everyone’s wearing two pieces and was thinking maybe what’s Rin, Isagi, Nagi and whoever else’s you want, seeing there girlfriend/ s/o in a bikini <3
no pressure ofc! And thx if you do it! Luv your stuff <33
seeing their s/o in bikini - i.rin, i.yoichi, n.seishiro, i.sae, k.tabito
m.list I rules
note: hiii thank you sm for your request ! i hope i did it well hihi
i'm rather busy lately and for the coming week as well so i'll take some time to do the requests you guys sent but i'll do it !
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Itoshi Rin 
he’s normal about it (no)
he likes the beach a lot as well, so it’s only normal for him to plane date there - even more during summer 
like you could have a small picnic before enjoying the water 
he only saw you in one piece until now so the second you take off your shirt and he saw more skin he panic
but only inside
outside he’s there, taking a look, he nods and tells you something like “i’ve never seen this one, it’s new ?” and you proceed to explain him where you get it and who was with you
the tip of his ears is red but he blames it on the heat and the sun - you’ll never catch him confessing he's flustered 
he’s always been playful but suddenly holding a lot more 
he likes it a lot, he can’t help it but looking at you head to toes a few times when you're not looking 
but he's the jealous type so he’s making sure to cover you with a timid smile if he see anyone looking a little too much in your way 
Hates it honestly when it happens but you're head order heel for him and it shows so it's fine 
Isagi Yoichi
he’s a pool guy and here to play 
aquatic park are his fav and ofc he has to take you with him
He's a blushing mess when he sees you after changing up 
He doesn't know where to look he's scared to offense you 
He wants to be respectful, you're just too pretty for him to not look for time to time
He stutters a lot when he talks to you at first, which makes you chuckles a lot 
But he quickly get over it and just tell you a thousand times how pretty you are
He's just sweet and tell you how the color suit you or things like that
Nagi Seishiro
reo must have a pool lol
He just stay sitting by and watch you two play and swim 
Mostly you bc it doesn't happens a lot 
He's quiet I think, just checking you out and taking note that you have scars or stretch marks here and there
He wants to poke you so if you decide to take a break next to him, he'll poke your side and shoulder 
He compliments you as if it's nothing, kinda implying how much he watched like “the shape is nice” referring to your chest 
You can pull him into the water after that, he knows it will happen 
But he's ready to start a fight then but honestly he'll blush the second your chest is comes near him 
He likes it just so he can hug you to be honest 
He almost drown you by accident with his weight 
He's relatively simple minded (I love him)
Itoshi Sae
it happens quickly in your relationship honestly he loves the sea too much 
He's, in fact, normal about it 
But he has to admit that he likes it and it suits you well hihi
He's just a girl 
He's probably more annoying about wearing your sunscreen correctly 
He gladly helps to rub it on your back 
He enjoys the view - probably blush a little when you're not looking as well 
He side eyes people around, even kids (in a playful way obviously) 
He lies the two pieces but he's only looking at your butt keys be honest 
Karasu Tabito
He get the privilege to help you choose one for a future afternoon with your friends 
Act fool ™ 
He even get to select some that he liked before you try it on 
He tries to not stare too much and just be helpful 
The tip of his ears are probably red on the first few one that you tried 
If he'll be honest, he would say he likes them all 
But he also know how you feel about your body and tries to be more critical so you won't feel insecure 
In the end he honestly wants to go with you at the pool or on the beach one day just to enjoy it as well 
Respectful king in the end 
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I hope you liked it !
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avocado-writing · 2 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. 👀
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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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