#this is such a funny ass thing to see on my dash
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i got in here after being chronically offline for so long that some posts on here leave me ...😰
#the effects of having a life♥️#like i dont care about some shit (picking my nose)#uhhh its funny tho. i wanns see things that are funny and beautiful or talk about the reality of our world#and sometimes a wild stupid ass post gets in my dash and i shake my head and scroll away JAJDJKAJA#i think hating on shit verbally is shittier than whatever someone said on the web#its my dilemma for ever. im too normal for the weirdos and too weird for the normals so i just sit and like art
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𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒
holding hands · holding onto arm / holding out arm · buying flowers · cooking · cuddles · writing a poem / song · holding door open · tying shoe laces · sharing a milkshake with two straws · offering their jacket when it's cold · kissing in the rain · publicly confessing love · long walks at the beach · doing the titanic pose on a boat · taking cute pictures in a photobooth · sharing a taxi / uber · kissing the back of their hand · slow dancing · getting tickets of their favourite artist / sports team / other · introducing them to their parents · lighting candles · flower petals on bed · love letters · star gazing · brushing / doing their hair · picnics · teaching them to play an instrument / a sport while gently guiding their hands · compliments · late night drives walks · taking selfies together · drawing them · self-made gifts · massages · proposing with a family heirloom ring · lending them their favourite book to read · paying for dinner / coffee · mixtapes / playlists · surprise birthday parties · feeding them · handing them keys to their apartment · making space in drawer for their clothes when they stay over · sharing a blanket · couple costumes · tucking a hair strand behind their ear · running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving · moving cities to be together · blowing a kiss · breakfast in bed · defending them in a fight (verbally / physically) · joint bubble baths · dropping the L-bomb ("I love you") · dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them · wearing their clothes · yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie · grant them the last bite (from meal)
Tagged by: no one! yoinked it / Tagging: y e w
#;headcanons#headcanons#;dash games#dash games#;t.ezcatlipoca#tezca is my bf and i love him#LISTEN-#with the selfie things i can imagine him tagging along bc he's always curious about modern stuff#sure he can get bored pretty quickly but he does like trying new things#THE DOING THEIR HAIR.... -CLENCHES HANDS ON FISTS-#couple costumes i mean that u can def get him to wear a tiger outfit while u go as winnie the pooh#and he might not like it but he'll end up doing it for u#so u see him in a tiger onesie smoking outside and the whole image of a cute plushie tiger constrasting with that is too funny#JOINT BUBBLE BATHS ARE SOOOOOOOOOOOOO AGH!#u can blow bubbles to his face#t.ezca like: 8|#<- his ass is wearing sunglasses inside the tub#he'll take them off dw dw
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I have no desire to put this person on blast but my god it really shows when people didn’t play high elo overwatch pre role lock (not to mention how hard it was to have a completely stagnant meta for pro teams who weren’t the kings of it like titans and shock, which I wouldn’t bring up unless this person wasn’t mainly talking about OWL, which they were)
#like goats at the highest level (shock v titans) matches were incredible#but being subjected to ladder goats for that long? and seeing lower tier teams players like emotionally suffering because they can’t even#play the role they like and even within that comp the only change that can be made is to put a sombra in#also I don’t follow this person nor have I seen them before but I follow the owl tag so it just showed up on my dash#obviously don’t harass them just because it’s easy to disagree with their takes#(there’s a… lot of interesting takes because they stopped watching years ago)#c talks#ALSO DONT GET ME WRONG. DOUBLE SHIELD WAS IMMEDIATELY PAINFUL TOO.#but I personally still enjoyed it more than goats in terms of it being finally changed#I lovedddd playing zarya especially if I had a great rein (playing d.va wasn’t too bad but I didn’t enjoy her as much)#but still. I played it for so long that I felt stagnant in improving#in order to avoid purely playing goats I had to use an alt to not damage my highest ranking account#you could still get away with forcing some team comp shifts but you had play your ass off and have a team capable of adapting a bit#I have literally so many hours on mei and reaper bc I can’t fucking play doomfist#they also were afraid of 1-2-2 and as much as I miss some incredible tank duo synergy now that I’ve played a lot of ow2 I can say it’s the#best damn thing they could’ve done for the game#ALSO it’s completely fine to take such a long break and have… odd… takes because of it but it’s kinda funny to see it condensed in one long#post that drifts across your dashboard lmao
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sometimes I'll wonder why i have a hard time making friends or fitting in and then I remember I have a physical visceral uncontrollable reaction to people who cannot understand when a bit is dead
#and i think thats where it gets weird in social contexts#is that for some reason people love a bit#like that sorta consistent grating joke that was maybe funny the first time but after the 734th time you're like#okay#we get it#and then even better when they double down and try and pretend as if they werent being annoying?#i dunno maybe im just spoiled with tumblr but there's a whole ecosystem for posting#there are queues and appropriate timings and bits that come and go#but when you blast 500 posts of the same topic within 10 minutes youll find people get annoyed#most of us have chronological timelines on so we see it back to back#and if we're not into the thing you're blasting then it completely clogs up the dash#we're not just “being haters because we hate fun” its making my user experience on this app unusable#and blocking and filtering tags does nothing except turns every post on my dash into a “this post has filtered content” picture#i already blocked the person that annoyed me but man it just blows my mind when people do that#the very obvious “people are annoyed for this reason” and they pull a COMPLETELY horseshit reason out of their ass and go#“why is everyone mad at me for [horseshit reason]???”#anyways#all in all I'm feeling very overwhelmed in my personal life
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You’re fairly lucky that I don’t have reblogs appear in my activities, as I’d find this quite rude to see in my activities and would’ve gotten mad in the moment. It’s kinda rude to Diane whom you reblogged from as well.
Replies on blogs are limited by OP’s settings, and this is mine:
This is because, in my experience, if strangers are going to contribute anything of value, they can damn well do it in a reblog and say it in front of their followers, as a matter of public record and reply. I’m not interested in playing moderator, and I don’t see much value in replies outside of my social circle, where it offers a quick way to have valuable conversations.
That’s why the fuck replies are restricted (/neutral), because who the fuck are you to get that privilege (/neutral.) No harm done and I’m not mad. If you had something to say you’re very welcome to reblog.
The only brew for the brave and true
#it’s funny how it feels really different to see things that you might interpret as rude or hostile several days after the fact.#if I was reading reblog additions on my posts every day I’d probably be all get up and agitated and spending lots of time and energy#agitating about People Being Wrong#but because I don’t see them I basically just look at notes on posts when they cross my dash again or when I find them myself.#and that means that I save my ass.#because instead of hitting at the wrong moment when I’m in a bad mood and interpret it in the worst possible way#i can just go aha. well. perhaps this person is just interpreting things in the worst possible way too.#and I’m in a position of going . well. I can answer the questions and perhaps we can stop being rude about it.#I think speed and urgency are possibly big contributors to starting drama at least for me#and they’re very false considerations - almost none of this is important and I am not here as a professional#and the minute it stops being fun I’m gone#so it’s not like I actually have to worry about like. reporting on breaking reactions like it’s news.#slow social media as a concept maybe.#not that this is the best reply#but it didn’t feel like WHOA HOLD ON
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✎ rivals... in love?
- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.
…Right?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)
“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”
“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—
“Heh, so what if I am?”
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”
“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”
“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talki—"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”
"Gojo, I don't have the time—"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbeliev—"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jjk drabbles#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]
pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff
summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare
wordcount: 4.1k
a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.
That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.
The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.
Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.
And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.
It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.
(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)
You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.
Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.
She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.
Well, except because you really missed Wanda.
Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.
Your bed.
That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.
Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.
That was the third thing you learned.
Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.
It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.
You didn't understand how real that was until now.
Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.
You were theirs.
You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.
A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."
"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your grip on me begs to differ."
At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."
It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.
Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.
Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"
Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.
After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.
"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."
Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"
You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.
However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.
"Yes, Daddy. I know."
She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"
You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."
Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.
"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.
"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."
"Good. Thank you, Friday."
The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.
"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"
You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.
You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.
In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.
Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.
"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."
You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.
You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.
The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.
"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."
Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.
"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"
"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"
"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."
Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."
The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."
"When are you going to let that go?"
"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."
Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.
Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.
You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.
They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.
Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."
"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.
"I'm talking to all of you."
"Nice save, 'Tasha."
"Shut up."
There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.
"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"
You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.
"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.
"I'm guessing this means training's going well."
"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."
The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.
It's far too fun.
"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"
Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.
You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.
Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."
"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.
A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.
"Keep telling yourself that, darling."
"Oh, I will."
Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.
Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.
Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."
You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.
You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.
Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.
The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.
"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."
"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"
You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.
Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.
"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."
The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.
"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"
"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"
The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.
You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.
"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.
You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.
Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."
Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.
"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."
"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."
"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."
The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."
Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.
"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."
You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.
"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."
Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.
You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.
The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.
They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.
"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."
"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."
That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.
Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.
Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"
Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."
The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.
Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.
"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.
Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"
"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."
"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.
Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"
The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."
You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.
"Sorry," you mumble.
Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."
The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.
Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."
"Don't rush her, little witch."
Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."
A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.
But the Widow really can't help herself.
"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."
Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.
Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.
Your bed.
With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.
#wandanat x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wandanat#wandanat smut#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#mommy wanda#avengers fanfiction#marvel fic#mcu imagine#wlw fic#writing
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devour (the entire universe)
Ezra x f!reader
Rating: E (additional warnings: harvesting violence, mentions of gore and blood, mentions of cannibalism, love as consumption and all the visuals that come with it, so much fucking and filth and ass play and cum eating it isn’t funny)
My submission for the @pedrostories Secret Santa event, my giftee is @wannab-urs ❤ Merry Christmas, my lovely!
I was so excited when I was given your name (!!) - I absolutely love seeing you on my dash. I tried to take as many things from your list as possible, but the prompt "love as consumption" really inspired this piece. Having never written anything like this before, I really, really hope you like it. A million thank yous to @hier--soir who beta'ed this for me and also gave me the best inspiration and guidance - I couldn't have done it without them. Thank you also to @bageldaddy who put up with my terrible spelling and who always reminds me, in the best way, that less is more ❤
--
CYCLE ONE
The first time you saw him, he stumbled into the field you were working in. Your head snapping up at the sound of someone coming through the grass, you observed each other for a moment, each of your throwers raised.
“Now this is something I have never seen in all my time in The Green,” he said. “A little girl.”
Immediately bristling, indignation flashed across your face underneath the glass dome of your helmet. You resented being called that - a little girl. The open prejudice against women harvesters was well known and there was something about his tone that felt mocking in a way you loathed, so you didn’t even dignify his statement with an answer.
Instead, you held your ground.
The two of you locked in a silent standoff, he took you in with a tilt of his helmet, assessing the threat you posed. You did the same, taking in his battered yellow suit, his lithe but broad frame.
Eventually, he lifted his hands in acquiescence and turned, disappearing back into the thick vegetation.
“A little girl,” you muttered angrily to yourself. Gouging your shovel into the rough soil, you sneered at the remembrance of his tone – as if he was taken aback by your presence. As if you didn’t belong here.
Three weeks later, you understood the marvel in his initial statement.
A woman an anomaly on the Green, others saw you as an easy target. Strong-armed out of your gems for the third time in weeks, other harvesters used brute force against your own smaller frame. Repeatedly forcing you into submission, you started to hate both them and yourself; the cruel environment and even crueler inhabitants bending you until you almost broke.
It was at this point that he stumbled upon you again: only this time, he offered himself to your aid.
Impressed by your tenacity, he suggested a partnership: your nimble fingers paired with his protection.
Sitting in the dirt with your suit torn and your case gone, you knew it was foolish to reject his offer of protection, but you did it anyway.
Both of you knew it was pride talking.
He crouched down in front of you, bringing you face to face. “I don’t see you have much of a choice. Or perhaps you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”
You narrowed your eyes in stubbornness. “What’s in it for you?”
He shrugged. “A companion.”
You stiffened, and he shook his head. “Not that sort of companion.” His eyes raked over your form, as if he could see anything under your bulky suit, coming back to your face with a raise of his eyebrows. “Unless you’re interested?”
Your face hardened. “Not a chance. Protection only. Even split.”
He thought for a moment, his face suddenly transforming into something amenable.
“Of course.”
CYCLE TWO
At first, you hated him.
Couldn’t stand the way he was always talking in that drawl of his, always spewing those endless sentences filled with nonsensical words and even less content. You had come to the Green to work alone in silence, after all. A concept he seemed to despise, given the way he wouldn’t fucking shut up.
Attempting to ignore his ceaseless talking in the days that followed, you thought all the time about breaking the partnership - especially when you saw just how deceiving he could be with those words of his. It was a resource, you reasoned, to have that type of deception on your side, but what was stopping him from deceiving you? Constantly questioning his true allegiance, you kept your guard up – until the fourth time someone tried to take what was yours.
He killed them.
No hesitation, no negotiating. Calculated yet with a glimpse of something feral underneath that flashed in his dark eyes with every plunge of his harvesting knife into the man’s chest, you held your breath as you watched him take out the threat. Your form was frozen, the heavy grunts of his struggle echoing through your helmet.
Chest heaving and fist gripping a blade covered in thick, dark blood when he rose, his breathing sounded heavy and labored through the radio. His deep voice crackled through, pulling you from your fog.
“It’s okay, Birdie. Keep digging.”
CYCLE THREE
Sharing a tent for logistical reasons, you had to get used to his…proximity.
The careless way he discarded his clothes around the small space, the constant crinkle of Bits Bars. The way he changed his clothes in front of you whether or not you averted your gaze. His scent that clung to everything in that tent: the thin pillow and blanket he gave you, the towels you dried yourself with, the clothing he lent you to sleep in.
Unused to having anyone in his presence, he was careless with his body and trying to give him some privacy (that he didn’t seem to want, nor need) you strained your eyes attempting not to look at his tanned skin every time he bared it. His body littered with evidence of survival, you wanted to touch every line of puckered skin with your fingertips just to see how it felt.
Attraction due to proximity, is what you told yourself.
Imagining the texture and heat of his skin, obsessing about the way his tongue peeked out to dart at his top lip when he was deep in concentration, staring at the size of his hands as he worked to daydream about how filling his fingers would feel inside you. The images haunted your every waking moment, and you tried to ignore them all, including the sleep thick mumbles that left his plush lips while he was dreaming at night.
The intimate sound drove you mad with arousal, even though you assumed they were nightmares that plagued him…until the sounds changed into something more desperate. Until he said your name, his hips shifting on his cot with intent.
Your pulse pounding in the dark, you slipped your hand beneath your waistband and delved your fingers deep into the silken wetness that greeted you.
Swirling, swirling, swirling, you joined him in his dreams.
CYCLE FOUR
Everything about your dynamic changed when he lost his arm.
Used to him being confidence brimming over, he turned into something else. Sullen, quiet. The silence you once craved too foreign to be comfortable, you tried to coax him out.
“You seem like you’ve been doing this a long time. Tell me about it.”
“How long have you been on your own? How many planets have you harvested on?”
“How did you get that blonde streak in your hair, is it a birthmark or something?”
Slowly inching yourself into the hole he’d lowered himself into, you settled in next to him, curling yourself into his still side.
Diving deep inside him to find the self-confidence you knew was buried deep, you cradled it carefully, nurturing it back to life. You modified his throwers for one armed use, stitched up the sleeve of his jumpsuit so it would stop flapping in the wind, helped him practice fighting techniques to learn a new way of throwing his lean strength around. When he had a setback in his healing, you bartered for more juice all on your own.
Carefully soaking his stump, he had avoided your gaze the whole time – or tried to, but you wouldn’t let him.
“Hey,” you murmured, his chin cupped in your hand. His dark eyes lifted to yours, and you held his gaze. “We’re still partners, right?”
He huffed in disgust, looking away. “A one armed man is of little benefit to you.”
“I decide what’s beneficial to me,” you challenged, the fierceness in your tone forcing the edge of his lips to tug up.
He said nothing as his eyes searched your face and you considered how this must be for him – a reversal of roles, an independent creature like him used to coming out on top. Scrambling and clawing and fighting for it, sure – only this time he lost, and with it, everything he knew.
Except you.
“I need you,” you said, reaching for his whiskered cheek to guide his face back to yours. “Partners. You and me, okay?”
“If you’d still have me, Birdie,” he offered, nodding in confirmation. “You and me.”
CYCLE FIVE
The first time you kissed, you were both drunk – and you did a lot more than kissing.
For a man still getting used to one arm, he fucked you senseless.
A bottle of…something found on the body of another harvester who saw Ezra’s missing arm and tried to take advantage, the two of you drank it in its entirety next to the still body left in the fight’s wake. Stumbling back to your tent with warmth spreading through your limbs to pool between your thighs, he saw your aching, restless want and matched it with his own.
Insatiable, filthy, depraved: you thought his inhibitions were gone along with the contents of the bottle, but it turns out he never had any.
Helmets tossed and clothes torn from each other’s bodies, his fingers left bruising marks in their wake paired with the ones pounded into the inside of your thighs from his rough thrusts that shifted the cot along the floor. He swallowed your guttural moans before matching them with his own, his teeth biting into the soft, pliant flesh that he found under the rough exterior of your suit.
Riddled with the marks of his desire, he watched you ride him until you cried out his name and then made you sit on his face, licking his own spend out from inside you.
Never stopping until you begged him for reprieve, he only let you sleep an hour before waking you up to do it all over again.
He fucked you anywhere you were willing to be fucked after that: in broad daylight against the hull of an abandoned pod, bent over his cot with his dirty t-shirt stuffed into your mouth, right in the loose soil of a dig once.
Introducing you to so much more than you had experience with, he drew every debased fantasy out of you, and then made it come true with his fingers, mouth and cock. Wondering where he’d even learned the things he knew, he regaled you with more tales of his travels, only this time he told you about the interactions of a different kind.
A brothel, specializing in bondage.
A woman who had trained her gag reflex, and then bringing in a friend, had shown Ezra how to train his as well.
A bounty hunter once, who refused to take off his helmet.
“It was thrilling, not being able to see his face,” he mused, a delighted smile stretching his cheeks. “He came more than anyone I have ever been with. Filled my mouth full of his milky desire.”
He stopped there with a fond expression, lost in reminiscing.
“Sounds like you don’t need me anymore,” you teased. “You should go find your tall drink of bounty hunter, and –”
A smirk graced his face, and he rolled you onto your back to settle above you. “I love my gems golden colored, but I love them green as well.” He winked. “Come now, my envious Birdie. I’ll always need you.”
CYCLE TEN
You learned to move as one - both inside the tent and out.
Alone for months, you shifted with each others every movement, as if your bodies were connected just like the frequency of your helmets. Every tell of his showed plain through his suit, every mood shift of yours was met with a lift of his eyebrow.
Every beat of time spent in the presence of one another all merged and blended into one timeline: before, and after Ezra.
Before, there was insignificance, and after, there was only him.
Love seemed too simple a word, too small for what you felt. You shared a heartbeat, a body, a mind — something more than just love. It was crushing and all consuming, something that took root deep inside you and branched out to connect with his own limbs. You needed a better word than love to describe your devotion.
Something that dripped in reverence and coated your tongue just like he did.
“Have you ever cared for someone so much you wanted to consume them? Swallow a piece of them whole, to keep within you forever?”
Love as consumption, he called it.
You were used to his musings by now, the knowledge that he’d gathered over a lifetime of travels pouring out of his generous, plush mouth. Your bodies squeezed together on his cot, your skin was bare and sweat damp with exertion, your limbs intertwined with his. “There is something romantic about it, don’t you think? Wanting their body within yours.”
“Your body is already within mine nearly every night,” you teased, and he pinched the tip of your nose, grinning.
“Too true, little bird. Too true.” His face shifted from playful to something subdued. “But you know what I mean.”
“Is that what you want me to do?” Your thumb traced a line across his eyebrow, your fingers seeking out the patch of white in his hairline just above. “Want me to slice a piece of you off and eat it?”
He ignored the grimace on your face. “Which part of me would you choose?”
The question was phrased in such a way that you could tease him again, but you knew he wanted a real answer, not a playful one.
“Well…” you thought, lacing your fingers with his to bring them to your mouth. “I have always loved these. But to leave you with any less fingers would just be cruel.”
He huffed a laugh, his eyes fixed on the way your mouth molded around his knuckles as you gave them a kiss. Letting go, your touch drifted to dance along the blunt edge of his stump.
“Maybe a piece from here?”
He frowned. “You’d take even more from me, in a place I am already lacking?”
Your voice dropped an octave, your own expression turning solemn. “It was horrible, what we had to do. I hate thinking about it: the weight of your arm as it dropped away, the pain you were in.” You found his dark eyes, holding his gaze as you stroked the puckered flesh. “I want to carve a piece out right here, just to rewrite the memory of it. A gift from you to me, rather than something I took.”
“You took nothing that I did not beg you to take.”
The double meaning in his words – like all of them – wasn’t lost on either of you.
“Only you would make amputation sound so romantic.”
He smiled, and you dug your fingers into the firm round of his shoulder, pulling his body to lie on top of yours. Cradled safely between your plush thighs, his hips immediately rocked forward with intent.
His head dipped to nuzzle his nose against your own. “It’s easy to be a romantic with a muse such as you.”
Catching him with a kiss, your lips locked as he slid his tongue inside the wet cavern of your mouth and you breathed him in, winding your arms around his neck to keep him in place. Your fingers slid up through the crown of his mussed, shortly cropped hair and he relaxed on top of you, deepening the kiss.
“I would give you my arm if I could.”
You whispered your confession as his mouth covered your pulse with a harsh suck, and whined when he answered with a sharp bite: his incisors pinching your delicate flesh. His hot breath ghosted humid over your skin as he searched for another spot, biting down on the other side of your slim neck.
Arching underneath him, you continued. “I would cut it off and give it to you.”
He found the tender underside of your breast, catching it between his teeth and groaned, soothing the bite with a broad sweep of his tongue before continuing down the plane of your body.
“I would give you anything, Ez. Anything.”
Mindless with lust from the sharp edges of his love, you writhed underneath him, hitching your knees higher along his torso. His strong muscles flexed and shifted under the squeeze of your legs, and he forced them open to spread your legs wider. Questing, his mouth sought out the tender skin along the curve of your hip with another bite.
“Fuck,” you breathed, pushing your fingers through his hair to guide him lower.
Situating his broad shoulders between your thighs, his mouth devoured.
Wide open to catch everything you gifted him, his tongue slid smoothly through your folds to collect every slip of arousal that dripped out, his throat bobbing with a swallow before going harder. His hunger shifted you up the cot, the lower half of his face buried inside your aching cunt and when his tongue found your clit with a smooth, forceful grind, you shamelessly begged for more.
“Harder. Eat it harder.”
He growled, his fingers digging into your flesh to tug you tight against his face and a hoarse cry crawled out of your throat – one that broke into an astonished cry when he pulled back just to bite into the plush, smooth skin of your inner thigh. This one drew blood – you could feel the hot slip of it against your skin, his kisses smeared with it. Ignoring the blossoming throb of pain, you asked him to do it again.
He did, right at the same time he slid two fingers inside you with a filling stretch and joining your hand with his, he rested his cheek on your inner thigh and watched as your fingers breached your slick warmth together. A finger of your own and one of his, then two of your own and two of his - your hands worked together, as they always have. His face right next to the liquid warmth coating the digits, his tongue joined to lap at your clit.
Obscene sounds filled the small tent: the audible slick sound of your cunt accepting his fingers over and over again, your higher pitched moans blending with his lower ones. Keeping his fingers tucked snugly inside, his mouth lowered down between your cheeks to slide against your asshole and he ate you there with abandon as well, your thighs dropping open wider to give him more room.
When his mouth found your clit again with a suck, the impulse to be eaten alive by him spread thick and warm through your hips, weighing heavily in your core. Propelled higher and higher with every pump of his fingers, the image of his blood soaked mouth as his teeth tore into your pulse made you pitch forward into your release, your body bowing against the thin cot.
Breathless and still riding a pulsing wave, you begged him. “Come up here and fuck me.”
He obeyed immediately, letting his weight push the air from your lungs just before his mouth stole the rest. His kisses soaked in desperation, his cock notched thick and stiff at your entrance, and you accepted him within you without any resistance. Fucking you with harsh snaps of his hips, your fingers dug into the meat of his ass and surrounded in his warmth with the light blacked out by his broad frame, your lips found a home on his bicep that flexed taut next to your cheek.
Your body cradled within his, the humid air around you pulsing with life. The rhythmic woosh of his strong heartbeat, the safety you’d feel within the damp darkness, finally joined as one.
His strokes snapped harder, his own want matching yours. His mouth ached to bite your soft lips, to nibble on the skin until it broke under the force of his love.
His harvesting knife slipped between his ribs to crack them open, gifting you everything held inside. Feeding you bits and pieces of his heart, watching the muscle that’s only ever beat for you disappear between your lips.
“Where do you want it, Birdie?” he begged above you, his mouth molding around the hinge of your jaw, tasting the sweet skin there. “I’m gonna come. Shit – shit. Where do you want it?”
“Inside me.”
A shudder slipped through his body as he came with a loud, sated groan, his hips forcing themselves into the cradle of your thighs to bury it as deep as possible – but he wasn’t done. He was never done, when it came to you. Before he could catch his breath, he slid his softening cock from your warmth and replaced it with his fingers, crooking them to gather the milky spend.
Bringing them up to your mouth, he fed it to you.
Glistening tendrils of release coated his fingers and your lips, smeared across your tongue when he forced them into your mouth and then sliding them out, he kissed you deeply, savoring your joined taste. He gathered more, this time shifting his touch to the tight ring of your ass and he pushed some in there as well, your hips arched up to accept it.
Sweat, spend, blood: he consumed them all and likewise fed them to you. Hours slipped by, his appetite for you insatiable: forcing you onto your hands and knees to eat you roughly from behind, filling your ass with his cock before pulling out to spill hot across your lower back, smearing it over your skin like a balm, his fingers tacky with it when he wrapped them around your slender throat and made you take him again. Riding him, your fingers sought out the wet heat of his mouth and he kissed and nibbled on them, before drawing them in with a suck.
The vast universe outside the tent was a threatening thing: harsh and unforgiving, ruthless and deadly. Inside the tent, tendrils of filthy intimacy surrounded your bodies as you orbited each other, creating your own universe between the sweat damp press of your bodies.
“You and me,” he breathed under you, his teeth catching on the pads of your fingers and you dropped down, resting your mouth just under the whiskered curve of his jaw. His pulse a rapid beat under the skin, you relished the strength held just under the surface.
“You and me,” you replied, your mouth opening wide.
#ezra prospect#ezra prospect x you#ezra prospect/you#ezra prospect/reader#ezra prospect x reader#pedrostoriesgift23#pedrostories
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“Mr. Blushing Boo.” — Boo Seungkwan
⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . crack . self-indulgent
⋆ pairings : seungkwan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : not proof-read, mentions of a ghost (not literally) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · when you're bf hates you addressing him by his full name, but he is down bad for you.
⋆ - note : DON'T WE JUST LOVE A LOSER BOO 😼 he is so cute i couldn't shake this thought off so I'll share some of my delulu-ness <3 also my first seungkwan fic! this man is wrecking me so hard it's not even a joke anymore, hannie is shivering timbering in his boots 💔🙏
"I swear, this recipe said 'easy'."
Seungkwan groaned in frustration, scowling at the recipe book on the counter in front of him and reaching out to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.
You let out a small laugh, handing him a tissue. "Use this, stinky."
Huffing out a breath, he took the tissue from your grasp while rolling his eyes and sneering. He returned his gaze to the recipe book, his face painted with an unimpressed expression.
"Baby, can you bring me the flour?" He said, not taking his eyes off the book as he began mixing the batter in a bowl.
"Ah, okay," you say, washing your hands and walking over to the cabinet.
You extended your hand to unlock the cabinet and then grabbed the flour bag. Your hands were shaky from the weight, and you prayed that it wouldn't fall. Just as you gradually took it out over your head—
boom.
You just stood there dumbfounded with flour all over your face, not even bothering to scream. You blow the flour from your lips away.
"I heard a sound, are you oka-"
Seungkwan arrived on the other side of the kitchen and called out, only to stand there with his mouth agape. He looked you up and down, then burst out laughing.
"Baby-" He squealed, leaning on the counter to support himself and keep from falling. You scowled at him. However, you could not suppress the small giggle that escaped your lips when you saw him laughing.
His hands move away from the counter, causing him to roll on the ground as he laughs.
"What a boyfriend," you murmured under your breath, amused by the sight of your boyfriend rolling on the floor, laughing instead of helping you.
"Come and help me now, will you?"
With a gasp for breath, he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out as he began laughing once more.
You stood there, looking stupid like a ghost. With a sneer, you inhale deeply, prepared to scare your beloved boyfriend half to death.
"Boo Seungkwan!"
He paused at the full ass goverment name, and perked up his head to look at you. His eyes widened as if they were about to pop out, and his lips pursed.
"Come and help me." Your tone was firm, and Seungkwan pushed himself off the floor and dashed straight to you. He picked up the flour bag and set it on the table before taking a cloth to wipe your face.
With a pout on his lips and his eyes fixed on your cheek, he gently started wiping the flour off your face. You knew it was because you addressed him by his full name. He obediently followed your words as you tried not to laugh at his pout.
"Baby," he said quietly, staring at his hand. "I'm sorry for laughing earlier..."
"I swear I didn't mean it! you see, it was just really funny seeing you covered in f-" He paused and raising his head to study your expression before lowering it once more. "Okay, I'll shut up."
But he flinches as you grab his face and peck his lips. As he digests what happened, his eyes enlarge.
"You're so cute, boo." You grin, squishing his pink-dusted cheeks. Unlike him, he smiled shyly and looked down, like a shy high school boy facing his crush.
"Aw, should I name you Mr. Shy Boo?"
He giggled lightly as you called him Boo. Suddenly shy to touch you, he reached out to hold the fabric of your shirt on the sides of your waist.
It was one of those goldy moments when you fluttered THE Boo Seungkwan's heart. Because, first thing, there has not been a day when he has not side-eyed you if you are being clingy more than usual (he actually enjoys it and gives in after acting whiny), and second, he will be teasing and poking you every chance he gets, so you are the one who is giddy at the end of the day. But that doesn't stop you from knowing his weaknesses.
"No, just call me boo..." With a slight smile on his face, he mumbled and leaned in to place his head on your shoulder while placing his hands lightly on your hips.
Reaching out, you take his hands in yours, adjusting it so that it encircles your waist before you put your own arms around his neck.
"Guess what, boo?"
"Mm?"
"+1 for my collection."
"Huh? what collection?"
"The Blushing Boo collection!" You giggled, and suddenly Seungkwan is side eyeing you. He raised his head to intensify the glare, which appeared more like to a pout.
"You don't like it? should I change it to Boo Seungkwan?"
"Don't call me that." With a light foot stomp, he let out a whine. "The name boo sounds much better from your mouth."
"So can I name the collection as blushing boo?" You grinned.
He huffed with a hint of smile, and shrugged. "Whatever."
"Got it, Mr. Blushing Boo!"
#seungkwan fluff#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan fic#seventeen x reader#seungkwan imagines#seungkwan fanfic#seungkwan x y/n#seventeen fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x y/n#svt ff#svt oneshot#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt x reader#boo seungkwan#seungkwan#kpop writers#kpop fanfic#kpop fluff#kpop au#svt au#yjhzies
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Consider It Done
Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.
Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.
You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.
You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."
Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."
"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."
"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."
"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."
You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"
Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."
You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."
Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"
"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."
"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."
You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"
Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."
Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"
"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."
You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.
"Consider it done."
#tommy shelby#cillian murphy#peaky blinders#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader
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Non-human Riddle being a bunny is funny.
Cuz they do the THUMP thing when they get angry.
Imagine Ace fucks up and he hears “ACE TRAPPOLA!!!” And a lot of thumping.
He is JUMPING FROM THE NEAREST WINDOW AND DASHING TO RAMSHACKLE (he gets caught)
Also that means Riddle gives some MEAN KICKS. Buddy kicks you and you can say bye bye to your ribs.
Or what would be better, Riddle is a bunny but Deuce is a hare. Hare’s have more of a haunting look in their eyes and those can be more menacing, not to mention their fights. So Deuce, even tho he’s trying to pass as a simple bunny, has this terrifying look in his eyes when he glares.
An angry bunny boy chasing after a terrified fox boy has so much irony and I love it, on top of angry thumps when a bunny I had was pissed they made a sort of gurgling hiss noise.
The kicks would hurt but it would be worth it to touch those soft adorable fluffer thumpers.
My god the size difference.
and them big ass ears, damn Deuce. No one is gonna see shit if they sit behind you in class.
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Usually the reactions to this comic are “lmao this is so weird” and I’m so used to comic books deaths that I accept it as such and then you just-
“Today, live as though you have no enemies.”
“Call your loved ones.”
“What can any of us do when forced to confront the fact that death is random and cruel and sudden?”
“Sometimes being brave is knowing when the fight's been enough.”
I’m never looking at this comic the same again
And they talked. For hours. And I wonder what they said. We know Batroc didn't reform but I think...I think he made a promise to Steve, even if only in his own mind. Batroc has both feet over the line. He's a villain. But he can see the light without straining, and he will go no further. No action he will take will do harm to those who do no wrong, no blood shall he spill or heartache shall he spread. That's the promise Batroc made, I think. He swears to only ever be the villain of a better world, a kinder world. The kind of enemy Captain America deserves. Captain America 443
#me seeing the silly Ironman suit cap on my dash and patiently waiting for u to get to the batroc part#spoiler: he retired but came back when Steve did#I think his inability to see himself as a hero has smth to do with his French army days. but#he’s a man of his word#batroc also philosophizes about Steve#I remember in Gwenpool Batroc notes that the world is not safer place because of Steve. Steve struggles for nothing.#Batroc is right. it’s comics. there has to be another disaster. more deaths. the world cannot be safer.#but he also notes in Black Cat that he admires Steve and thinks heroes are nobler than everyone#so he doesn’t just admire his skill and enjoy being his enemy. he sees him as a great person trying his best in a horrible world#he values him#even here you can see how much he cares#I remember being a bit mad at Steve#here he complains his villains never reform and when he comes back he gets mad at Batroc for going back#i suppose im too used to characters who are constantly going ‘you can change’ to villains#but Batroc is possibly one of the most reformable villains#he will switch sides when things get bad. he saved Steve’s life. he admires heroes. even fufuilled that promise.#in multiple canon AUs he will be payed to be good and continues the work after the job is over. even when he will likely die#I dont think it’s a permanent state. he found a temporary purpose. he LIKES being bad. but like. can u TRY Steve.#I keep doing that lol. I read Hulk and got attached to Betty then got mad at Bruce when he complained about being used by her#after she spent her entire life being used including by him#Steve going ‘ugh this guy’ after I watched Batroc devote so much to him 😐 (im biased)#batroc ready to let Steve go at the low low price of letting him win a fight but he says no and now he got a whole colosseum on him#(last time they saw each other Batroc saved his life at the risk of his dangerous buddies turning on him and losing his reputation)#I WANTED Steve to get his ass beat after that#Batroc only outright fights next to Steve (or tries to) but subtly helps heroes like gambit gwenpool and capt. Britain#I think he particularly has a soft spot for villains going good#he tried to reason with Kitty Pryde instead of fighting her then was cool when she dumped him off the side of a ship#my sweet little dude#funny thing is the only person Batroc has been shown to truly hate is Hawkeye. everyone else it’s just a job sorry. he wants Hawkeye dead.#anyway infodump over
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𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙚 — It's just Nanami and Yuji against the world.
note: I was rewatching JJK since my Crunchyroll subscription ended 2 years ago, and it's ON NETFLIX and I totally forgot about the relationship Nanami and Yuji had (and I personally think Nanami is a father figure but I digress) so I HAD to share this lol. Also Yuji is a baby :p
𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Nothing!
Nanami never asked to be a dad. To be honest, the idea always scared him. He hated the thought of changing diapers, buying formula, buying clothes every other month, etc! He hated the drool, the smells, the noises babies made, but when he had the blessing to meet 6 month year old Yuji, none of that mattered anymore. He knew he wanted to care for him.
The first few weeks were TOUGH. Nanami knew he didn't have the nurturing mother capability, and knew he also didn't know what to do. Yuji cried all the time and he didn't know why, his diaper would be changed, he just ate, he just woke up from a 3 hour nap (probably more than he needed) and yet he would cry.
Countless nights Nanami laid awake listening to the heart wrenching yet annoying cries of Yuji. He knew Yuji was taken care of yet he didn't know what else could have been bothering him. So the very next day, Nanami took him to the doctors only to find out Yuji was teething. He kept crying because he was in discomfort, so Nanami hit the first once upon a child he could find and found toys and other gadgets to help Yuji, and they worked! Nani got a good 8 solid hours of sleep until a new problem arose.
Yuji got sick. Yes, Yuji got the common cold yet nanami felt like it was yellow fever. Every cough, sneeze, hiccup, Nanami panicked.
"Achoo!" Yuji sneezed and Nanami dashed from the kitchen straight to the living room (which isn't very far). Nanami scanned the poor boy's slightly reddened face from him coughing and sneezing. Nanami felt up the boy's poor head for the, God knows how many times. Nanami brought his hand to his chest to feel how Yuji breathed which was thankfully normal. Yuji only laughed into a cough at how silly his daddy was acting.
"Dada funny!" He clapped his hands.
Nanami felt his heart flutter at his little boy, and he didn't feel too worried about him after his little check up. Nanami felt so happy seeing his little Yuji happy and couldn't contain the tears brimming his eyes. Yuji only looked up at him in confusion but then quickly got caught by Gracie's Corner which he was preoccupied with before his dad's check up.
Nanami soon embraced the single dad look. He'd go on runs with Yuji bundled up in his stroller, he would show Yuji off to his friends whenever they hung out at his house, and everyone fell in love with Yuji. His contagious smile, cute little salmon hair, wide eyes, there wasn't a single person who could look at the little cinnamon roll and not smile. Nanami also became the world's #1 dad. Nanami would be the first person any of the mothers at the daycare would go to for baby advice because nanami was basically the encyclopedia of babies. Want to know what foods are best to feed babies who just began to eat real food, hell give you recipes and affordable but healthy and nutritional brands.
There wasn't a single thing that could have separated Yuji from Nanami, except you, but that's not important in this part of the story. Yuji was Nanami's reason to go to his lame ass job and deal with his boss. Yuji was Nanami's breath and heart. Nanami couldn't even imagine himself without the little kid. And the older Yuji got the more Nanami became happier. Nanami was a whole new man because of Yuji, and honestly, no one complained.
Even though Nanami wished he had a s/o to help raise Yuji, he knew Yuji didn't care. As long as Nanami had Yuji and Yuji had Nanami, nothing would stop them from being happy. It was really Nanami and Yuji against the world. And what Nanami liked to tell Yuji a lot:
"It's just you and me against the world."
#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami and yuji#yuji itadori#jjk yuji#Itadori yuji#this is sooo cutee#nanami fluff#yuji fluff#jjk fluff
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Broken Rules
Pairing: Stucky x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: use of toys, serious edging, handjobs, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex, spanking, pet names & honorifics, threesome, bondage, sub!stucky - i think that's it-
Genre: smut because that's like all Stucky gets I need to work on some pure fluff for them, a dash of fluff
Summary: You and Steve catch Bucky breaking a rule
***
When you walk into the room with Steve, you catch Bucky with his hand stroking himself, head tossed back against the headboard and you clear your throat rather loudly, startling him.
"Y/n you're back." Bucky stutters awkwardly.
"That's funny I don't remember giving you permission to do that. Steve did I give you permission to touch yourself?" You ask.
"No mistress." Steve replies immediately.
"Steve did I give Bucky permission to touch himself?" You ask.
"Not to my knowledge." He says.
"Bucky did I give you permission to touch yourself?" You cross your arms.
"Wel-"
"That's a yes or no question. If the next thing out of your mouth is not a yes or a no, you're answering it wrong. I'll ask again did I give you permission to touch yourself Bucky?"
"No mistress."
"And yet here you are." You hum. "Looks like we'll be having a lesson in discipline today."
"I'm-"
"Don't start." You say sharply stopping whatever Bucky was going to say in his defense. You pull the desk chair from its corner and set it up at the foot of the bed facing it. "Come here Bucky." You say. Bucky walks over and kneels at your feet. "Oh now you want to behave as trained. On your feet I want you bent over this chair." You say. He stands and places his hands on the seat of the chair. "Steve my love, go in the trunk in to closet and grab the red box for me." You tell him.
"The red box?"
"Yes. Oh and lube. You can pick."
"I can pick?"
"Yeah. It's not for you but- since you've been so good I'll give you a bit more power today."
"Oh okay- thank you mistress." Steve says and walks over to the closet. He returns with the box and a bottle of lube, he's picked out Bucky's favorite. You smile a bit at that, how sweet of him. You take the bottle of lube first and generously coat your fingers. With a hand at his back, you slowly circle his asshole. He jolts a bit at the cold feeling groaning a bit when you gently breach the tight ring of muscle. You take your time pumping your fingers in and out of him, enjoying the way his breathing changes as he gets worked up from your stretching.
"Steve would you like to do the next bit?" You ask pulling your fingers out of Bucky.
"If it pleases you mistress." Steve nods.
"Brilliant answer, open the box baby boy." You smile. Steve opens the box, a vibrating tail plug and a cockring lie inside along with a few other things but those are the two items you'll need first. "You can grab the plug first, and the remote." You tell Steve. Steve nods and grabs the item in question, taking your place behind Bucky to work the plug into his ass.
"Ah-" Bucky moans.
"Okay Steve, let's see how much power you can handle baby boy. You are going to spank Bucky and he's going to count each one. We'll go to ten." You instruct.
"Yes mistress." Steve nods. Steve takes a breath before his hand comes down on Bucky's ass making the brunette hiss.
"One." He pants out.
"Good Steve, keep going." You nod. He lashes the next 3 in quick succession and Bucky counts just as fast. You don't do much more coaching through the rest of it, Steve spanks, Bucky counts albeit with increasing difficulty, but he does it and by the time Steve has completed the task, Bucky's ass is bright pink, as you wanted.
"You did well puppy, you can sit now." You tell Bucky.
"Thank you mistress." Bucky strains, slowly sitting down, between his sore ass and the plug, it's a lot for him but he makes do.
"And you did well too baby boy." You say stroking Steve's cheek softly.
"Thank you mistress." Steve blushes at your praise. He always does. You pick out the ring from the box and slowly roll it down to the base of Bucky's dick.
"How're we doing puppy?" You pull Bucky's chin, forcing his gaze to you.
"Fine, mistress." Bucky breathes.
"Good. Steve go pick out restraints baby boy." You say. Steve walks back over to the trunk in the closet and shifts through it for a bit before he returns with a pair of leather cuffs.
"Will these do mistress?"
"Yes, those are fine." You grab them from Steve and put them on Bucky, binding his arms behind his back. "Steve come undress me." You say. Steve pulls your shirt over your head and then slips your pants down.
"All the way?" He asks.
"Yes baby boy." You say. Since he's already on his knees he slides your panties off as well before standing and walking behind you to unhook your bra, allowing it to drop into the pile with the rest of your clothes. "Good, I want you next to Bucky, okay Stevie?" You toss over your shoulder as you climb into the large bed. Steve makes his way to Bucky's side and waits for instructions patiently. For a moment you simply look at the pair, enjoying the sight of two super soldiers at your disposal. "Your turn baby boy strip, and then if you want to pull up a chair you can, you'll be over there for a while." You hum. Steve quickly undresses and grabs another chair, pulling it up beside Bucky and taking a seat next to him. You toss the bottle of lube to Steve and he scrambles to catch it. "Here. You're going to be jerking Bucky off, and Bucky you're not allowed to cum." You instruct.
"Now?" Steve asks squirting lubricant into his hand.
"Yeah, go ahead and start." You say. Steve wraps his hand around Bucky and begins to stroke him lazily. Bucky, already having worked himself up so much before you returned, is immediately reactive to Steve's touch. He jerks in his chair and you almost wish you'd tied his legs down too but you don't feel like doing so now. You watch as Steve sets an easy pace with his fist and Bucky barely holds it together, a mess of moans and grunts so quickly that Steve has to carefully monitor his movements so as to not push him over the edge.
"Ffffuck! Please mistress- I'm sorry I- shit I can't- please!" you smirk at Bucky's broken pleas.
"You can't what puppy?" You ask with feigned sympathy lacing the words.
"Please, please I need to cum. I can't take it. Please mistress." Bucky pants out, head thrown back as Steve continues to toy with him.
"Oh now you ask for permission but totally forgot about that when you broke the rules. Perhaps I'll just forget to let you cum." You hum.
"No! No please, please mistress. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. Please." Bucky's head shoots up to look at you with pleading eyes.
"Look at you, such a desperate thing. I like you like this Bucky." You smirk. "Stevie, anything to say to our naughty puppy, baby boy?"
"You really shouldn't break the rules Buck." Steve mutters.
"I know! I know, I'm sorry. Please mistress I can't-" Bucky cuts himself on with a whine caused by a change in Steve's rhythm.
"Oh I think you can. Not that it matters if you can or not because you will, for as long as I decide." You say.
"Steve- please- fuck ease up, holy shit."
"Steve answers to me, puppy. Begging him won't help you." You taunt. Steve, ever the diligent sub, continues to stroke Bucky at the same pace- though his face shows his sympathy for him as he watches Bucky writhe and whine at the attention. It's then that you remember the little remote in your hand and decide to put it to use. You turn on the vibrations on the lowest setting though you can't tell from his reaction. He practically leaps out of the chair from the extra stimulation. If he was a mess before he's in absolute shambles now. The broken sob from his lips is enough to drag your free hand from the bed to settle between your legs. You're totally dripping when you slide your fingers past your lower lips. You let your digits coast over your clit a few times, humming from the relief it brings you. Both Steve's and Bucky's eyes are trained on you as you slip two fingers inside yourself, curling them upward in a way that has your back arching and Bucky's next moan sounds pained. You know it's less to do with Steve's steady pumping and more to do with the show you're now putting on. Neither of them can stand not having their hands on you. Steve continues his task with Bucky while you use the sight to work yourself, thrusting your fingers in and out of your pussy.
"Fuck- I'm so wet. So warm too." You hum.
"Mistress." Bucky sighs out. "Please mistress, please. Need you so bad mistress. Please."
"Need me so bad you broke my rules." You remind him.
"Please! I'm sorry. I-"
"Steve, baby boy come here." You say turning off Bucky's vibrator. Bucky grunts over the loss of all stimulation but his panting breaths are loud.
"Yes mistress?" Steve asks.
"You've been so helpful today. Would you like a treat?"
"Oh please, mistress. If- you feel I've earned it." Steve says.
"So cute." You giggle. "Kneel." You order and Steve drops quickly. You prop your legs up on his shoulders before you address him again. "Make me cum baby boy. Or you'll be tied to a chair next." You say and with a hand buried in Steve's hair, you guide him to your center. He's eager as his tongue dives between your folds.
"God, so good baby boy. You're doing so well Stevie." You moan out tossing your head back. You grind your hips against Steve's face, tugging at his blonde locks as you chase your first release of the day. You let Steve's tongue drive you over the edge rather quickly, arching your back into him when your orgasm washes over you. When your breathing calms slightly you pull Steve from between your legs and kiss him. "You've been rather patient I think baby boy. Let's reward that." You say pushing him onto the bed. You take Steve's dick, hard and likely aching for attention, and line it up with your entrance, lowering yourself onto him slowly.
"Fuck- thank you mistress." Steve rasps out once you've settled over him. You kiss him sweetly and then place your hands on his chest, riding him fast and hard, enjoying the sounds from his lips.
"You're welcome, baby boy. Fuck you feel so good, filling me up nicely." You moan. Steve's mouth drops open as if to speak but all that comes out is a garbled groan, the feel of you around him clouding his thoughts.
"Mistress I wanna touch you. Please let me go. I promise I'll be good just- please let me touch you." Bucky's voice is gruff and when you look over at him he's incredibly tense.
"What do you think Stevie? Do you think my puppy has learned his lesson?" You hum licking across Steve's neck.
"I- I think so mistress. You had me spank him and he's been denied for quite some time now." Steve pants out.
"You're so sweet baby boy." You smile slowly lifting yourself from him. "And you, puppy are quite lucky for it. Personally, I was thinking about leaving you high and dry for at least a week over this." You walk over to Bucky and uncuff him from the chair. "You'll keep on the accessories for now." You tell him gesturing him over to the bed. Bucky on unsteady legs, stumbles over to the bed. You turn your attention back to Steve, taking his still hard length into your mouth. He's been so agreeable while you've had to focus most of your attention on Bucky's punishment. He hisses when you swallow him down. Steve is worked up, so much so that his body is jolting as you bob your head up and down his dick.
"Mistress, can- I wanna put it in. Please- please let me put it in mistress. Can I? Please?" It seems Bucky's managed to get his bearings a bit as he's suddenly whining at you. You come off Steve long enough to answer him, keeping a fist wrapped around the blonde for the short interim.
"Geez puppy if I didn't know any better I'd think you're in heat with how desperate you're acting." You taunt.
"Please mistress." Bucky mutters.
"Fine but you wait for my permission to cum. Understood?" You grip his chin in your free hand.
"Yes mistress. Thank you mistress." He nods as best he can in your hold. You let him go and focus back on Steve, swallowing him down again. Finally having the green light, Bucky wastes no time sinking into your heat. His hips move quick, his thrusts frantic enough to distract you for a moment.
"Steve baby boy as you've been so good I want you to cum for me okay baby?" You pull off him to give the instruction.
"O-okay mistress." Steve stutters out and you wrap your lips around him again. It doesn't take much more to have him spilling in your mouth with a whine.
"Good boy." You hum once his orgasm dies down. You allow Bucky a few more minutes to drive into you mindlessly before you twist to push him off you. You remove the ring from his dick and turn the vibrator in his ass up all the way. "If you want to cum it'll be like this. Since you seem to think you can simply cum whenever you feel like it." You tell him as he writhes on the bed. It takes a few minutes but eventually, ropes of white are spurting onto his stomach as he sobs. You turn off the toy and grab some wipes to clean him up a bit. "I'll be right back." You mutter kissing the top of his head and then Steve's. Two damp rags in hand you return to the boys and wipe down first Bucky, then Steve, who wraps his arms around Bucky once you're done.
"You did well Bucky." You tell him. "You too Stevie, the perfect little helper." You wink and Steve blushes.
"I don't like punishing him." Steve says.
"Neither do I. If only he followed the rules huh." You smile, which Steve returns.
"That's not as fun." Bucky mutters.
"Troublemaker." You tap his butt lightly and he moans due to the plug still inside him. "Oh let me take care of that." You say, slowly removing it and placing it to the side. You'll have to clean the toys later, because as soon as you've put them down Steve pulls you down between him and Bucky.
"This was so much better than that meeting with Tony." Steve mutters into your neck.
"Agreed." You hum.
"I love you guys." Bucky mumbles.
"Love you too." Steve replies.
"And I love both of you." You say, your fingers threading through their hair softly. They're a bit of a handful sometimes but yeah- you definitely wouldn't trade them for anything.
***
#marvel#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes#steve rogers#captain america#stucky x reader#stucky fanfic#stucky smut#stucky
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My Hero
Dick Grayson/Nightwing x (Fem) Reader
Summary: A young woman named (Y/n) (L/n) got saved by an unknown vigilante who goes by the name Nightwing and it was her first time seeing him in first person.
Note : Nothing really romantic going on here but it depends how you see it I guess.
Warning: Honestly, none. Just a few curses.
♡ Fluff ♡ Drabble ♡
♡ dividers by : @saradika-graphics♡
“Shit, shit, shit!” you cursed, dashing off in a run to the alleyway which was a very terrible idea because worse things can happen there. Literally it happens everyday in Gotham. A stinging panic swept out from your body, leaning your back against the wall being concerned by a bunch of freaks. “You got nowhere to run, pretty lady…” A freaky man whipped out his pistol, “Now, hand us over your fucking wallet and we will probably let you go.”
You gritted your teeth out of frustration, scrambling into your bag to get a taser gun. Before you could, a blue male vigilante appeared out of the shadows and took out a group of freaks down using his Escrima Sticks.
“Woah…” You watched him in awe, seeing how he swings and jumps in the air while kicking their asses. Quite odd that you never saw him around before. “You alright, miss?” He spoke calmly, spinning his Escrima Sticks putting them away behind his back.
“I’m alright but who are you?” You took a quick glance at his black-blue suit, noticing a indigo blue bird symbol in the middle of the chestplate, “I never ever seen you around before.”
He chuckled nervously, sticking out his hand to you, “I’m Nightwing, pleasure to meet you, miss…?”
“(Y/n) (L/n).” You shook his head, introducing yourself with a small smile. Nightwing lowered his hand, taking a little observation around the alleyway. “You know…this is my first time seeing a vigilante in person..” You adjusted your bag over your shoulder, gripping on it. Nightwing turned his face back at you, “Really? Well…” He grinned, putting his hands on his hips, “Consider me to be the first badass vigilante you ever laid your eyes on!”
You bursted out in a jolly laughter, covering your mouth. Nightwing tried so hard not to show it but he found your laugh quite adorable, “What’s so funny?” he asked, moving his hands away from his hips. Shaking your head as you struggled to speak, “Oh i-it’s nothing..I-um..Well…” You lifted a little fist to your lips, clearing your throat, “Thanks, Nightwing. For saving me.”
Nightwing bowed to you like he was some kind of prince charming, “Just doing my job.” With that, he grappled away to the rooftop shouting, “I hope I see you around, (Y/n)!”
You let out a giggle, watching him disappear in the darkest night, “My Hero…” You said in a soft whisper, heading straight back to your apartment with a sweet-soft smile on your face.
a/n - I wanted to write Dick Grayson right after my first Jason Todd fanfic, I'm sorry for how short this is. There are times where I like to write something sweet and short. I'm still a sucker for fluff drabbles haha!
anyways, I hope you all 'Nightwing' lovers enjoy reading this! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
UNTIL NEXT TIME 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
(I always forget to say this at the end of my fanfic lmfao)
#dc comics#nightwing#dick grayson#dc comics x reader#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x (y/n)#dc comics fluff
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do you ever picture what things would be like if, somehow, the stars aligned and allowed Tim and Brian to reunite sooner? i had a dream last night where they found each other when Tim was HEAVILY pregnant with Birdie/Birdie was still a teeny-tiny baby, and Brian felt so guilty over losing Jark (Jay/Lark) and overall everything that Hoodie had caused (i go by Joseph DeLage's statement that Brian wasn't in control/not in full control when he was in Hoodie ModeTM), so Brian just went, 'i have to atone for my involvement, and do good by Jark and be a shoulder to lean on for Tim/bonus parent for tiny Birdie since Jark isn't here' and i've been Fucked Up ever since X_X
also, this just gave me the funniest image of Brian just casually wheeling down the sidewalk in Wherevertown going to wherever he needs to be, and ten yards ahead is Tim (with his back to Brian so he doesn't realize immediately), either pregnant AF or carrying baby Birdie in a carrier or whatever, having to stoop/squat to pick up something he'd dropped on the ground; either Brian sees Tim's ass as he's bending over and thinks 'gawd dayum' OR Brian's not as far behind, so when Tim drops the thing, Brian comes to save the day because he carries around a little grabber/pair of salad tongs in the even this situation happens to HIM. Tim either stands up and turns enough for Brian to see his face OR they do the little cliche romcom movie thing where they both just happen to look up at the same time and immediately meet eyes O_O
dear god this got long, one and one thousand pardons aaa
Oh my god I fucking love this. I hadn't thought about this before, but I'm definitely going to now, because god that'd be amazing, things would probably turn out so much more easily for Tim if this had happened. Because in 'canon' he lost Jay, Brian and Alex all at the same time and he feels awful about it. Like sure, Brian isn't dead, but Tim doesn't know that and he massively blames himself for it. He was the reason Brian let go of that ledge and landed just wrong enough for it to kill him. He didn't go back soon enough to check on Brian, to see if he actually was dead, and if he wasn't, was just passed out or paralysed, Tim not going back to check would have doomed him anyway; no one would have known where he was, Benedict hall was abandoned so chances were that no one would find Brian lying there for hours, and if he had internal damage, that length of time was something that'd kill him.
This got... Long :)
Also calling Jay/Lark Jark is so fucking funny, I love it so much 💀
And also also, Tim bending over and Brian being like "👁️ Damn 👁️" At him is absolutely something that happens, in this lil au, and also just in 'canon' Sorry, It's Locked, that's just gonna be them for the rest of their lives. They're gonna be 80 year old men, and Tim's gonna bend over, and Brian's gonna whoosh past him and smack his ass on the way by. They're gonna be sickeningly in love forever. They're gonna be head over heels for each other for the rest of their lives.
This was really fun to think about. I'm probably not gonna get round to actually working on S,IL until after Christmas now, so it was fun to be able to dash out a longish thing about S,IL without having to care about continuity or making it read nicely and all that lol.
So Tim reuniting with Brian right after losing him? I'm thinking they meet before the crossroads episode, while Tim's still trying to get his life sorted out and figure out what to do, where to go, how to be a single parent of a newborn who constantly reminded him of the partner he'd lost. He was in hell. He was beating himself up for everyone's deaths, practically feeling like they were done by his own hands, even though only Alex's was. So if he dropped something, carrying baby Birdie and maybe some shopping bags in his hands, so he couldn't easily grab it himself, and he saw a lil grabber coming out of nowhere to pick the thing up for him, and turned around to be faced with Brian? I think he'd probably have a break down in the street, a little.
I think at first he wouldn't let himself be fully convinced it's actually Brian. He hasn't seen Brian's face since uni, pretty much, except on the tapes, and they're blurry as all hell, so he tries not to get his hopes up. He tries not to kid himself that this helpful guy is Brian. He's thinner than Brian ever was, he has a beard and mustache than Brian never had, he's in a wheelchair and he looks much more subdued than Brian ever did. But this guy's eyes just widen, and he almost whispers Tim's name, like he's also terrified of this being nothing but a cruel twist of the universe.
So Tim whispers his name back, disbelieving and on the verge of tears, putting his grocery bags on the floor and holding Birdie tighter because he just needs to. And Brian nods with tears in his eyes and his lip wobbling a bit as he tries to figure out what he should even say. What do you say to the best friend you haven't seen in years? What do you say when that friend is kinda of the reason you have a spinal cord injury? What do you say when that friend has a baby in his arms and you don't even know enough about his life anymore to know how or when or who.
In the end he just settles on "I'm sorry."
Tim stares at him like he has two heads, almost angry as he asks what the fuck Brian has to be sorry for. Tim's the one to blame for Brian's current situation, Tim's to blame for everything! But Brian is the one apologising? They stay in the street like that for a while, probably too long with how many people step onto the road to walk around them, giving them a mixture of concerned and irritated looks. Eventually they decide to move, head back to Brian's place because Tim knows the lift up to his apartment is broken and has been for ages (he hadn't thought it'd matter before, he wasn't going to be staying there long, planning on moving away from that goddamn town, that goddamn state as soon as humanly possible).
They talk on the way there, Brian offering to carry things for Tim, but realising that the only thing he could really carry would be Birdie in her little baby wrap carrier, because Tim's grocery bags are those really big ones and would tip over really easily if Brian so much as leant forwards an itch. And Tim's not going to just hand his baby over. Sure, this is Brian, but he's been a somewhat malicious seeming presence in Tim's life for years now and he can't quite trust him, not yet, not with his baby, not with the last living piece of Jay that he had left. So they make their way slowly slowly slowly across town, Tim taking frequent breaks any time they get to somewhere he can sit for even a minute.
They talk about everything. Absolutely everything they can.
Brian asks about Birdie first.
"what's their name?" "She's called Birdie."
"That's a nice name, and she's yours?" "Yeah... All mine." Tim says that but with tears in his eyes and his bottom lip curling over as he tries not to cry.
"Yours and..." "Yeah, mine and Jay's." Tim's voice is all croaky when he answers and they reach another place he can sit down, because he just needs a moment to put his bags down again and wrap both of his arms gently around Birdie's tiny body where it's wrapped securely against his chest.
"I'm so sorry." "She's all I have left of him, didn't even know I was pregnant until after he was gone... Finding out was..." "A lot?" "I felt like I was suffocating."
Brian just nods. He feels awful. He feels just as much like this is his fault as Tim does and they finish the rest of their walk in mostly silence. They don't let the conversation stray back to difficult things when they get back to Brian's place, it's just as shitty as Tim's apartment, but it's at least fairly accessible, and he and Brian try to keep things normal for a bit, trying to catch up like they were just normal people who'd lost touch after uni. But they can't really do that, can they? Because they aren't normal people, Tim had thought Brian was dead for years, only to find out he'd been wrong when he thought he was watching him die again. Brian had stolen Tim's meds, he'd stalked him and Jay around for months on end and made them feel almost as unsafe as Alex had.
They aren't normal people.
So the topic finds its way back to MH. They talk about what they remember, about uni and what had happened to Brian when he disappeared after that. Tim finds out that Brian barely remembers most of the last few years, felt like he was watching his body getting piloted around by someone else while he was trapped inside, and he tells Brian about his own memory loss.
Brian remembers at least some scattered bits and pieces from the times he and Tim in the mask were together. He talks about the relief of knowing that Tim was at least alive still, and about how even when he felt like he had no control over himself, he was glad that his body seemed to remember that Tim wasn't a threat, was someone he cared about, someone he loved. He also talks about the end, when he'd let go of that ledge and for the first time in years that felt like an action he had been fully in control of.
He doesn't regret it, he also isn't somehow happy he did it, it was just a thing that happened. What he's really glad for is the fact that Tim didn't have to go the rest of his life thinking he'd killed someone, that he'd killed him. Tim tells him about Alex, about how he had killed someone, and there was no mistaking it for an accident like there could have been with Brian. Tim had slit Alex's throat with Jay's penknife, mercy for Alex and revenge for Jay.
They talk and talk and talk, have dinner together before Tim has to leave to put Birdie to bed properly and take some time to himself so he can scream into a pillow. They get each other's phone numbers though, they refuse to lose contact with each other again.
They meet up as often as they possibly can after that first accidental time, mostly just spending their time at Brian's place, just talking. Tim obviously brings Birdie with him every time, he doesn't have anywhere he can leave her, doesn't have a childminder or anything, and, y'know, she's a newborn, she's only a few months old. So she comes with him. The first few times, she stays in Tim's arms or his lap, he doesn't let go of her the whole time, and Brian doesn't ask to hold her. He gets it. He understands as much as he possibly can from what Tim's told him, about how she's all he has left of Jay, about how he just can't trust Brian with holding her just yet, needs to have her in his arms so he knows she's safe.
Tim's told him about the nightmares he has. He dreams about losing Jay, he dreams about losing Brian, and he especially dreams about losing Birdie. It's almost nightly, he wakes up terrified that she's been kidnapped, or hurt somehow, or that he himself has hurt her, has killed her like he killed Alex, like he thought he'd killed Brian and still can't quite believe he didn't... And like he killed Jay, like he let Jay die. If he'd just put his upset at Jay aside and said they could stick together while they were looking around Benedict hall, he'd have been with Jay when Alex shot him and maybe Alex would have thought twice about doing it, maybe he could have saved Jay.
So when one day Tim asks if Brian would like to hold Birdie, Brian understands just how big a deal it is. He nods, though, he says he'd love to hold her, and he doesn't say a word when Tim fusses around with making sure he's holding her correctly, making sure that the brakes are on on his chair so he won't roll, making sure that Birdie's still bundled up safe and warm. And then he hands her to Brian, and she's a squirmy little thing, making little baby noises and grabbing at him when he cradles her against his chest like Tim showed him, supporting her head and smiling at her with tears in his eyes, because yes, she looks like Jay... But she also looks like Tim.
She looks a bit like Tim did when the two of them first met.
It's her eyes, sure, the shape is more like Jay's, all too big and a bit buggy, a little droopy and looking incredibly strange in her tiny baby face, but the colour is exactly like Tim's.
Tim tells him more about his and Jay's relationship while he holds Birdie, letting her hold his finger and babbling back at her when she makes her little baby noises. Brian decides that he absolutely has to be there for Tim and Birdie. He doesn't even say anything about it to Tim, just decides it for himself as he listens to Tim talking about how he'd tried to count back the months to figure out when Birdie had been conceived. Tim jokes about feeling like a weirdo for it, but he just had to know, he had to figure out what point in their relationship Birdie had started, to know and remember that moment as happily as he could.
Brian listens to it all, he doesn't even really feel jealous, doesn't feel any sort of weird at hearing Tim talking about his last partner. He listens to everything Tim tells him about Jay, the good sides, the bad sides, how awful it was trying to live around being hunted down by Alex and the Operator. Tim even mentions the fact that Jay was clearly figuring out his gender and how awful it feels knowing that Jay never got to live comfortably in his skin before he died.
Brian just listens, he holds Birdie and he listens while Tim gets everything off his chest, and he decides that he's going to be there for him through anything, whatever comes their way, he'll be there with Tim, for Tim. He isn't even doing it because he still likes Tim, because he wants to be in a relationship with him again. He doesn't even necessarily want Birdie to grow up seeing him as her dad too. He just wants to be there for Tim in any way he'll have him, whether that's just as a friend, or as something more.
#asks#tim wright#brian thomas#mh brim#marble hornets#marble hornets fanfic#it basically turned into one. im so sorry. this is so long 💀#It's like 2k words 💀💀💀#mh sorry its locked#fic/series rated e on ao3#in case anyone would prefer not to read that#jay merrick#mh jam#pretty girl propaganda au
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