#why was that damn underwear question so difficult?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hurthermore · 11 months ago

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»»------► 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 (18+)

▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+) ▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 (18+)

Summary: 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜?

Word Count: 𝟸.𝟼𝚔

Warnings: 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 ��𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚖; 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚕 >.<

𝙵/𝙼 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚟 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚍, 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝

(𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎)

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!

You had only been there for a damn week.

A week.

Yet you had somehow flourished emotions within the Radio Demon that he had never even slightly experienced before.

The worst part?

You were what the younger generation called a ‘Bimbo Bitch’.

It didn’t make sense to Alastor as to why you out of everyone alive - and dead - made him feel like a pathetic idiot with a crush. Throughout his life on earth he had hundreds of women at his beck and call, fawning over him due to his celebrity status as one of America's biggest southern radio hosts in the late 1920s. Even in death, dozens upon dozens of women had expressed interest in him, even some of the most elegant of sinners had pursued him, yet he always lacked the interest in the act of courting. Still, he knew there would be a day when he would find the woman of his dreams.

So when he realised that the woman of his dreams was you, he felt disoriented, questioning everything he had come to know. The most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on; the woman who made him desire things he had never yearned for before, was you; a woman who lacked vocal sophistication and wore tight, revealing clothes that could rival half the garments the spider-like porn actor wore.

But despite how pissed off he wanted to be about it, how much he wanted to hate you for bringing these emotions out of him, he just couldn’t force himself to feel any disdain for you. Especially when you’d call for him in that whiny tone that sent pleasant shivers down his spine, the same one that made him want to thrust your face into a mattress as he bred you.

He remembered when you first came into the hotel. He genuinely thought you arrived in your underwear, only for him to find out what crop tops and booty shorts were.

He was appalled to say the least.

But it didn't stop him from appreciating your figure whenever you graced him with your presence.

And yet again he found you, wearing a skimpy little outfit of a crop top and one of those silly little skirts of yours, all whilst sitting sideways on his chair in the lobby of the hotel. Your knees pressed up against your breasts; squishing them so hard that the fat of your chest was begging to pop out of the flimsy revealing top as you reached towards your pointed feet with a small brush.

It was difficult for Alastor to repress the groan that begged to leave his throat as his eyes peeked a glance at your underwear; red. Red and skimpy. He could feel himself throb just by looking at you. “Good evening my darling!” He decided to appear from the shadows behind his chair you were situated on before leaning over it to admire you inspect what you were doing. “What are you doing, my dear?” He asked you with a delighted tone that he found himself reserving purely for you.

He watched you pause as you heard his voice, redirecting your attention on him as you rested your legs back onto the arm chair, giving your chest some air to breathe. “Hey Al!” You beamed with a sharp toothed grin that made Alastors undead heart skip a beat. “I’m painting my nails, you want me to do your claws? I have like ten different colours! OH! We should so paint yours pink! You’d look so good!”

He chuckled at the idea of him with pink nails; preposterous. He was the Radio Demon, an entity that devoured anyone who crossed him, a being who broadcasted the screams of thousands of souls to millions of listeners all because he enjoyed it; and here was you; a pretty little dame asking him if you could paint his claws… Pink.

“Apologies my darling but that is an activity I prefer not to partake in.” His toothed smile twitched as your face slowly contorted into one of disappointment.

It definitely didn't make him feel guilty.

“C’mon Al! If you really don’t want pink I guess I could do them black or white to match your theme? Pretty please?” You pouted, allowing your lips to puff out as your eyes looked skyward to meet his gaze. Alastor’s smile twitched as he felt a heat rise within his lower abdomen from looking at your perfect form. You must be aware on some level what you were doing to him. Right?

Despite the Radio Demon hating the idea of having his claws painted, the idea of disappointing you; the act of refusing you to touch him as you caressed his hands and claws was something he found he hated more.

So he gave in.

“I will permit you to paint my claws my darling, but you are to do it in red and you will not relay this event to anyone else. Do you understand?” His face closed in on yours to the point where you couldn’t see anything but him.

Your eyes glanced down to his hands that rested atop his cane, your eyebrows contorting into confusion. “But… Your claws are already red?”

Alastor’s smile twitched ever so slightly, to the point where you didn’t even notice.

He had hoped you wouldn’t of noticed.

“Then I will permit you to paint them black, ma chérie.” Immediately you stood up, revealing your smaller structure compared to the seven foot frame the Radio Demon possessed. You grabbed his hands - much to his delight - and he allowed you to drag him over to the opposite side of the chair, guiding him to sit on it. He obliged, allowing you to dictate every move; something he had never permitted anyone else in his entire existence.

Momentarily he closed his red eyes, basking in the warmth your hands emitted into his cold skin, only for him to startle them open when you sat on his lap. His eyes met yours as you smiled smugly, waving the black nail polish in his face.

It wasn’t what he was expecting, to have your soft body flush against his; your clothed core meeting his own, making him melt from the contact. But he was assured that he could live the rest of his existence happy and content if it meant having you slotted in his lap forever.

“Okay, gimme your hand.” You beamed as you offered your delicate palm to him, waiting for him to concede his hand to you. Hesitantly, he obliged, snaking his fingers against yours, allowing you to grip your soft hand around one of his fingers as you began painting his sharp tipped claws.

As you recoated your brush before tending back to his claws, Alastor felt your core brush against his, making him bite back a moan, keening in a way that had him wishing you’d do it again. Slowly, he outstretched his unoccupied hand towards the curve of your waist as he felt himself harden underneath you.

Although usually a collected and composed man, Alastor was struggling. You had barely begun working on his second claw before his hand finally made contact with your bare waist, making you jump ever so slightly at the contact, accidentally grinding yourself against his now hard member.

Alastor groaned as you stilled against him. He refused to look at you, he wasn’t ready to see what type of expression adorned your face. Would you be repulsed? Or would you be as aroused as him? “Alastor..?” He heard you mumble; your voice sounding slightly erotic. Would you reciprocate his feelings? Slowly, he rested his head in the comfort of your chest, sighing as he could feel the fast beating of your heart before tightening his grip on you. He couldn’t control himself; not when you fit so perfectly in his lap, not when you were making him feel so stimulated just by moving against his constrained cock. “Fuck, Alastor-” You moaned as he forced you to grind against him as he placed his other hand against the fat of your hips; his claws still wet from the polish.

“Such a naughty girl.” He groaned as he leaned back away from your chest, viewing the debauched expression that etched your face, biting your bottom lip as your eyes half lidded. “I was hoping to court you first, but you’re making this so hard.” He mumbled, slamming you further into his clothed throbbing cock, causing the texture of his trousers to rub against your clit.

Suddenly, he gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips connected with yours. He could hear you panting as you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore the tastes your mouth had to offer him. He felt like he could attain heaven as you showed your want of him. The closest he’d ever get to the place.

As he kissed you, the need to hear you moan had him grinding into you harder, trying to elicit more of those sounds from you. But when you didn’t, he gripped the front of your throat, punctuating his claws into your skin, forcing you to bend backwards as a black tentacle wrapped itself around your waist, preventing you from falling off of Alastor’s lap. He groaned as he watched your skirt ride up your thighs, revealing your drenched red lingerie to him.

Without thought, he ripped the red fabric in two, growling as your cunt glistened before him. Both of his hands pierced into the chunk of your thighs, causing you to whimper as he dragged your sex into his face. The position forced your posture upside down, making all the blood rush to your head as Alastor finally smashed his face into your puffy cunt, penetrating his fat tongue inside you. You moans vibrated off the walls of the parlour room, and you had completely forgotten where you were and what you were doing before this as Alastor’s mouth seemed to cover the entirety of your sex. His tongue thrusting in and out of you whilst the top of his mouth simulated a suction like sensation, stimulating your clit in the process.

His ears twitched with every moan, every cry of his name that left your wet lips, and every squelch that your cunt produced. He never thought this could taste so good. He had eaten many people throughout his life, being a cannibal and all, but not once had he eaten someone in such a way, and he couldn’t deny that this was his new favourite dish; the juices of your cunt.

As your legs began to press against the sides of his head, he could feel the tremors that passed through your plumped thighs, and with how your moans kept increasing in volume, it was obvious to Alastor you were nearing orgasm. It had him feeling heated; your whole lower half crushing his head, almost preventing him from breathing as he ate you out. But oh did he find it incredibly erotic. He couldn’t prevent the build up of his own orgasm as he kept drinking the essence of your cunt.

Once he heard you basically scream in pleasure, your sex convulsing around his tongue, and your clit throbbing against his teeth, he allowed himself to ejaculate within the confines of his pants, his cock pulsed with every splat that left his tip. He moaned into you, overstimulating you in the process. You tried to pull away, tried to tell Alastor it was too much, but he kept you against his mouth, continuing his ministrations as he rode through his own orgasm.

“I swear I heard screamin’ Charlie.” You and Alastor both froze as you both heard Angel’s voice in the distance. Panicking, you tried to tear yourself from Alastor and the tentacle wrapped around your torso with more force; but he didn’t let you move. You silently screamed his name through your teeth, anxiety building up as you dreaded the thought of someone catching you with the Radio Demon of all people.

Abruptly, you felt Alastor retract from you as your back hit against silked covers. Confused, you took in your surroundings, your anxiety vanishing as you realised you were in a different room from the parlour. But it was a room you didn’t recognise.

“Such a silly girl.” Alastor spoke up, still in between your legs as his fingers stroked the skin of your thighs, his eyes connecting with yours. “Did you honestly believe I’d let anyone else witness you in such a state?” He watched you whine as you took in his now undressed form; allowing you to witness all the stitching that wrapped around his body, his small tufts of fur that lavished his chest, and his free cock that was covered in cum and was too heavy to point upwards.

You couldn’t prevent the moan that left your lips as you concluded that he had cummed from eating you out.

“No,” He grunted as he pulled your thighs apart before pulling your body down toward him. “This is for my eyes, and my eyes alone.” Pushing his phallic organ against your folds, you gasped as Alastor continued. “You may parade around in such ridiculous little clothing, but this,” His fingers wrapped around your neck. “Is mine.” As he finished, he finally forced his thick and heavy cock in the warm and wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck.” Alastor hissed. He never thought sex would feel so consuming, so fulfilling, so pleasurable.

The pressure of his fingers against your throat began to consolidate as he fucked his fat cock into you, almost preventing you from breathing. Although Alastor wasn’t an experienced man in sex, he was experienced in the resilience of the throat; he knew exactly how much pressure he needed to apply before it restricted oxygen from entering. And oh how did that do things to you.

As he continued to ram himself into you, he lifted your upper half to him, bringing your face to his, allowing his lips to graze yours. “Give me your soul, darling.” He grunted before initiating a kiss. “Give yourself to me and I’ll give you the seven rings of hell if you please it.”

You felt the throbbing of your sex begin again as he fucked into you, promising you basically anything you desired as long as you gave your eternal existence to him. The want to be possessed by this man was enveloping you entirely. You didn’t even hesitate before you cried out a passage of yeses. A sharp glow of green screeched throughout the room along with a high pitched shriek as Alastor groaned into your mouth. You could feel stitches that adorned his mouth for barely a second grazing the skin of your lips as he pushed his face into yours; his pace becoming aggressively harder.

You jolted with every thrust, allowing yourself to cry out as another orgasm was ripped from you, twice as intense as the one you had barely moments ago when it was his tongue inside you and not his cock. As you whined and cried throughout your euphoric feeling, you began to become limp. Alastor only held you tighter, refusing your warmth to leave his cold dead skin as he began to thrust into you as if you were his precious little fuck toy.

If this deal guaranteed that he would fuck you like this on a regular basis, you weren’t going to complain; especially when he was the best fuck you had ever had the satisfaction of experiencing. Instead of treating you as a form of self pleasure, he seemed to only derive his pleasure from yours. Like he got off on you feeling good.

It only confirmed your thoughts as you felt his cock pulsing inside you; splattering his cum further into you after you came down from your own high.

How the fuck did you end up in this predicament again? You only wanted to paint his damn claws.

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader smut #smut #alastor #hazbin alastor #reader insert #x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 1 month ago

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"Feel this? It's just for you." and 17. "Can you be good for me?" screams older bf!bob to me!!!

Bob Floyd was the perfect man. A gentleman above all else. Handsome as hell, with his dark blonde hair that had grey streaks throughout the strands and piercing blue eyes. A well established and decorated career in the Navy.

So why the fuck was he with you? He could have his pick, anyone would be stupid to not be with him. Why did he choose to tumble into bed with you, someone barely into their career?

You wondered this as you watched Bob receive another award for his illustrious career. It was difficult to not feel out of place, as you were surrounded by wives and children of those receiving an award tonight.

But feeling insecure just wouldn't do for Bob Floyd.

Like a sixth sense, he could tell that you were at unease. He placed a large hand on your ankle, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on your soft skin.

"You wanna get going soon, sweet girl?" His precious nickname for you made your heart flutter, despite it being far from the first time he used it.

"You don't want to stay?"

Bob chuckled, leaning in, causing the scent of his cologne to flood your nostrils, "If I'm bein' honest? Not really. Would rather be at home with ya."

Was it because he loved you, or because he then wouldn't be seen with you? The question plagued your mind on the ride back, as you were walking inside, and finally, as you were entering his bedroom.

"Alright, tell me what's wrong," He demanded, "And don't say it's nothin'. I know you."

"Why are you with me?" Bob's eyes narrowed at your question, his nostrils flaring.

Before you could even judge his reaction, his lips crashed against yours. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, eliciting a small gasp. Using his hands to guide you, your back quickly made contact with the soft mattress.

Bob had never been this....possessive before. Every touch sent a spark up your spine. His hands were everywhere; gripping your hips, kneading your breasts, pushing the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the lack of underwear that was intended to be a surprise later.

A low, almost gutteral growl fell from his pink lips, making your thighs clench. In vain, you tried to move your hips down, hoping to make contact with his thigh. Bob's fingers now span the entirety of your throat, forcing you to look into his oceanic eyes.

"Feel this?" His other hand grabbed yours, placing it on the crotch of his pants. You gasped upon feeling the bulge that had grown in such a short amount of time.

"It's just for you. Don't want you to ever doubt that. You're fucking incredible. So smart and clever and so fucking sweet. Everyday I wake up, wonderin' what I did to deserve ya. Don't ever question why I chose you, got it?"

You nodded, completely entranced by him. How he was able to switch effortlessly from the sweetest to the sexiest man you knew. God, you'd do anything for him.

"Now, I need to know. Can you be good for me?" Nodding again, Bob smirked. Quickly, his hands grabbed your hips, moving you so that he was now underneath, placing your bare cunt directly over his clothed erection.

"Ride it sweet girls. It's all yours."

Your hips moved instantly, bringing sweet relief to your aching core. A strangled moan erupted from Bob, the sound music to your ears. What you'd give to hear it all the time. Every time your hips grind against his, every time your clit brushed against his pants, your mind lost itself to a pleasure filled haze.

"That's it. God, you're so good t'me. Gonna fuck you so good after you cum all over me," He grunted, fingers digging into your soft skin.

"W-want it s'bad." Was that your voice? Was that you whining? Better question, did you even care?

Bob moved to sit up, hands pushing down the straps of your dress, revealing your bare chest. His mouth latched onto one of your hardened nipples.

Bob's mouth was God damn magical. That was the only way to describe it. When you two first met, you had no idea it was possible to come from just someone's mouth. He had shown you so many things. For years you thought it was just you, that sex just wasn't meant to be pleasurable.

As Bob put it, you had just been with folks who "didn't know shit."

"Go ahead. Nothin' stoppin' ya, sweet girl." He practically cooed. Picking up the pace, the bedroom was filled with heavy breathing and a mix of moans from you and Bob.

"B-Bobby!" Your body kneeled over as pleasure overtook it. Bob held onto you tight, moving his hips to prolong your pleasure. He could feel you making a mess on his dress pants, fuck.

He tried, but he couldn't wait. Flipping you over, he quickly unbuttoned his pants, pushing it down his thighs just enough to give him room.

"Ah! Bob!" His cock was so big, filling you in one thrust. Your body tried to adjust to him as he began to thrust in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.

"Told ya I was gonna fuck you real good sweet girl. And I always keep my promises."

#my writing #Bob floyd #bob floyd smut #robert floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x female reader

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year ago

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pleasure me pink - joel miller x female reader

Summary: Joel finds a sex toy you’d been hiding from him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: (no apocalypse) dom! Joel, mentions of sexting, use of vibrator, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, overstimulation, squirting, humiliation, bondage (using a belt), swearing. Established relationship, a little bit of insecure Joel, use of nicknames (baby, angel, ma’am, sweetheart, slut.)

Note: holy fuckkkkk I would die lol can this pls happen to me. @cool-iguana

You see her, in all her glory; the bright pink bulbous head staring at you through your half-full of cotton and lace pantie drawer. Biting your lip, you half-heartedly throw a few pairs of panties over it, trying to cover it up.

You’d contemplated telling Joel; but there were too many what ifs.

What if he got mad? Annoyed? Insecure? The last one she couldn’t bare the thought. So she’d just.. kept it a secret. Not that there was anything wrong with masterbation, you’d felt more inclined to feel guilty about hiding it from Joel.

“Baby, did ya hear me? Said we’re late, c’mon get dressed ‘fore I change my mind and strip you bare and take you here.” Your legs quake at his offer, growling voice half warning; half promise.

You let a soft groan leave your lips. You and Joel had promised your parents you’d come to theirs for dinner tonight, it had been a long few weeks coming, you couldn’t just.. not show up. It would break your mommas heart.

“Just gotta brush my teeth. Two minutes, promise!” You plead and Joel raises a brow in doubt.

“Baby..” He warns.

“Two minutes Joel!” You promise, making quick work to the bathroom before brushing your teeth.

Joel had rolled his eyes and grunted as he waited in the bedroom, wondering what had your attention so intently that you hadn’t heard him calling out; till the third time he addressed you.

Quietly, he pulls out the draws, grimacing when one draw squeaks open. To his luck, the tap was running, an annoying habit of yours he seemed to be ever grateful for in that moment.

Next draw; nothing. He grunts, feeling frustrated. Why couldn’t he find anything—he was so sure that there was something.

He opens the top draw with a feeling of irritation. Why did it take you so fucking long to brush your teeth—

Oh shit.

He blinked heavily as his eyes took in the sight before him, he wanted to pinch himself to see if it was actually real.

He stares at it; the bright pink vibrator half hidden by your skimpy lace underwear, staring back at him. Daring him to touch it, to question her.

But then she would know I went through her shit. Said the tiny voice in the back of his head, that made him scared to react in that moment.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts as you turn the water off, he quietly shuts the heavy chestnut oak drawer and steps a foot away, sitting on the end of your bed, having a playfully annoyed look on his face.

“See? Two minutes.” You grin at him, hand outstretched as if to congratulate yourself. “By the way, your shirts inside out.. doofus.”

Joel didn’t actually know how long you took. He could’ve spent half an hour rummaging through your draw standing there shocked and he wouldn’t have realised.

Instead he taps his watch, a coy smile on his lips as he stands. “Only just made it. Pushin’ my damn buttons already.” He groans as he notices his shirt, pulling it over his head as he stands to fix it.

“Yeah yeah, hurry up now, we’re gonna be late.” You quip. Joel could scoff, seeing as how you’re the reason they’re nearly twenty minutes late to leave the house already.

“Yes, ma’am.” This time his shirt is on the right way before he leaves the house.

As much as you loved your mother, her house smelt stale and her cooking was always bland or over cooked. The fact alone made it difficult to show enthusiasm to being out of bed-away from your home.

The other factor was Joel’s hand had never left your body since you’d left the house. He’d always loved touching you.. anywhere his hands could manage.. but this? This was odd.

“Here hon. We forgot to give it to you last time you visited. I hope you like it.” A bright pink scarf, one you’d likely never use, one that would serve its life decorating the back of your cupboard.

Not that you were ungrateful of such a gift.. but your mother had just taken up crocheting.. and you’ve got dozens of identical ones in matching colours. The pink just seems.. a bit out there.

“I think that colour suits ya nicely darlin’. Gonna look so pretty ‘round that pretty face of yours.” Joels hand finds your inner thigh, the size of his hand meant he could grip underneath your thigh. Fingertips drawing shapes on your skin, the action had you reeling.

Fuck, not here.

You clench your thighs together to try and stop Joel’s movements, he only smirks and looks at your mother who pats his shoulder.

“I hope she’s treating you right Joel, if she’s not send her my way and I’ll make sure that changes.” Your mom had joked playfully, ruffling your hair a little, as if you were a teenager and not a grown adult.

“She treats me well, ma’am. Sometimes she could use a little opening up. But she’s perfect.” Joel’s praise goes straight to your cunt, already slick and puffed lips sliding against your dampened underwear as if they could provide some friction.

You’re too frazzled to say anything, staying out of the conversation as Joel and your mother converse. He keeps his hand on your thigh, occasionally slipping up past the hem of your dress, thumb grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Close.. too close, but also not close enough.

Your fingers pick at the wool of the scarf, trying to ground yourself in the focus of rubbing your fingertips against the softness of the pink fabric.

Every molecule in your body wants to tear Joel away from this conversation, say your farewells and take Joel in the car, have his thick fingers inside you to relieve some of the pain building in your stomach. But you’re stuck here listening to them yabber on about something you don’t understand.

It’s clear Joel’s punishing you.. but for what?

The car ride was uncomfortably silent, Joel had turned the radio down—you watch the digits found down to zero and beg for them to come back.

Minutes without sound, only the revving engine of Joel’s pickup fills your senses, the noise was overbearing and it almost causes sensory overload.

“Joel—“ You cant finish a thought, nor form one. Because he holds his hand up to silence you.

“No talking. This car ride is to be silent if you want me to fucking touch you when we get home. Do you understand that?” His voice is low, a dangerous growl in which you took seriously.

So you nod. That was not good enough for Joel.

“Speak. Yes or no.” You wanted to argue, fight back. Now was not the time.

“Yes Joel. I understand.” He grunts in response to your hushed reply.

You didn’t dare speak a word as you entered the house, not even as Joel slightly pushed you up the stairs, where your punishment? Reward? Awaits you.

“On the bed. Now.” You obey, your body lies on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as you wait for Joel to climb over you, speak to you. Anything.

You hear ruffling, but don’t dare to look, the familiar sound of your draw opening had your heart ramming so hard against your chest it felt dizzying. Your pantry draw, the vibrator.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck..

He pulls it out, inspecting it before sitting in between her legs, device in hand. It’s tiny in comparison and he wonders if it actually feels good—compared to him or at all.

“What’s this angel? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me either.” Your body involuntary trembles at how calm, yet threatening Joel could sound.

“Vibrator..” You mumble, eyes scanning the room for something to gain your attention away from Joel.

His large hand grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. He looks curious—unimpressed. “No, you look at me when you’re speakin’ to me.”

You have no choice but to look at him.

“I know what it is, what I don’t understand is why you have it.” His eyes scan your own, looking for any indication of reason. “Thought you said I was all you’d need. You lyin’ to me angel?” He said mockingly, urging a reaction from her.

You shake your head frantically—the humiliation of the situation was unnerving. “No, no it’s not like that.. I only use it when you’re gone days at a time for work.”

He grunts at her. “So those texts an’ videos I send ain’t enough no more? Gotta defile yourself with a toy like a slut?”

“They are enough, they are.. you are. Sometimes I just need more than my fingers.” You whine, Joel doesn’t see any dishonesty.

He decides on your reward, humiliation.

He tosses to toy at her, it lands right next to her hand.

“Show me how you use it.” You hesitate, wondering if it’s a challenge—a trick.

“Now.” Joel demands, his hands making quick work to roll the fabric of your dress up above your hips. He lets out a filthy groan when he comes face level with your soaked panties.

“Made a fuckin’ mess of yourself already, dirty girl.” He mutters, mainly to himself. A part of him is relieved that he was the one that did this to you.. not that toy.

You feel your face warm as Joel watches you, his thick fingers curling around your panties before he tears them off you, throwing them onto the floor behind him.

Under Joel’s watchful gaze, you hesitantly turn on the pink wand, positioning the rounded head of the toy at your clit, the low buzzing of the toy on your favourite setting had your hips bucking and a soft moan escaping your lips.

Joel wants to hate it, how good it’s making you feel. Practically replacing him in its minimal efforts to make you feel good.

You work the toy around your clit, the sensitive bundle working up the coil in your stomach already, the pleasure from it has you unable to form a single thought. The only thing on your mind was you wanting to cum.

You’re a whimpering mess, hair is messy and starting to form small knots from your head withering on the pillow. Hips bucking every few seconds as the vibrator hits the spot that makes your toes curl, giving Joel the show of a lifetime.

He hates the way you’re moaning. He hates the way you look so fucking beautiful with your face scrunched up. He hates the way his cock is so fucking hard he can’t bare to not be inside you anymore.

Fuck the punishment, he decided finally. He needs to be inside you. To prove his worth to you.. that he’s better.

Joel strips his jeans off, he wraps his belt around your hands that holds the vibrator in place, keeping it attached to your clit. You look up at him in surprise and groan, legs trembling around him as he positions himself in between your hips.

His thick cock is weeping with precum. The sight of your glistening pussy only entices him more. He runs a thumb down your slit, gathering the juices and he groans. “Jesus Christ.”

Without warning he rams the thick head into you, the jolt of pain and pleasure has your eyes clenched shut and mouth wide open as you scream his name.

“Joel.. fuck. Joel!” In reply to your breathy voice screaming his name, his hands lift your legs and place your feet over his shoulders. His strong arms come down beside your head and he rails into you.

Hips slamming into yours as his thick head comes to the hilt inside of you, roughly nudging your cervix. The combination of his thick cock filling you, ramming your g-spot and the vibrator forced onto your clit has you reeling—you feel dizzy and you can barely hear Joel moaning.

“Fucking—hell this pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby what — what the fuck.. did you.. you just squirted all over my cock.” Joel’s voice barely registers in your head, until you hear what he says next.

“Gonna fuckin’ cum already.. fuck.” The droplets of sweat built up on his forehead drop onto your own. Animalistic grunts leave his lips and it pushes you to the edge.

Your orgasm that was tethered finally snaps, unable to hide the fact that you’d squirted for the first time ever, your legs shake around Joel’s head as they tighten around him, your cunt clenches Joel so perfectly he erupts inside of you, thick warm ropes of his cum fill you, overflowing out of your hole as he twitches and pulses inside of you.

Joel stays there for a moment and you’re trying to push him off—the vibrator still held onto your clit with the belt that had tied your hands, Joel weakly unties the belt and wipes the stray tears that had fallen down your cheek.

“You okay sweetheart?” His voice is breathy, but those deep brown eyes are full of concern.

You nod your head, a tired “mmhmm.” Is all you can muster right now, the sound of blood rushing through your body and ears ringing as you try to ride out the overstimulation of your climax.

He holds the toy in his hands, looking at you with a devilish grin, sitting it on the nightstand. “I think I might like this thing after all.”

You groan and roll into his chest, facing each other on your sides in your bed—full of each others specimen and bedsheets contaminated. That could wait for the moment.

Joel kisses the top of your head and nuzzles into your hair. “Dunno what I was so worried about.” He confesses to himself, admiring you as you feel sleepiness overcome your senses, you manage a small smile at Joel’s confession.

Joel knew now without a doubt in his mind he wasn’t competing with the toy. He was working with it, and he is good enough.

#Joel miller #Joel miller x fem reader #Joel miller x female reader #Joel miller x you #joel miller fic #Joel miller smut #dom Joel miller #Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal Joel miller #the last of us hbo #hbo Joel miller #joel miller x reader #boyfriend Joel Miller #Joel miller smut fic #joel miller tlou

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depravitycentral · 8 months ago

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I've only watched the first season of jjk and frankly I despise Mahito, but god the yandere potential is just too damn good to ignore.

He's provocative, doing anything and everything he can to get a rise out of you.

Though honestly, creepy would be a more accurate description. Even for a curse, Mahito shows a remarkable disregard for the desires of others. He’s a selfish, morbid creature, and although there’s something dark, twisted, and sick blooming in his chest for you, this doesn’t change the core traits of his personality. It doesn’t change what he is, what he’s capable of, what he enjoys doing – and unfortunately for you, his infatuation with you means that every ounce of his time, attention, and curiosity is channeled directly at you.

And even from the beginnings of your unwilling ‘relationship’ with him, this will be uncomfortably obvious.

Catching his attention is a difficult, nebulous thing, but once you’ve managed to snag it, you’ll never shake it off. Very early on he’s attached to your hip, following you around and always, always blabbering on and on about this and that, asking you all sorts of questions that leave you simultaneously disgusted and exasperated.

(Questions like hey, if you had to eat another human, where would you start? Questions like when you menstruate, can you feel it coming out of you? Describe it to me – and show it to me too, okay? I can smell that you’re currently in that phase, what do you mean you won’t take your pants off right now? Why does it matter that we’re in a grocery store? Maybe they'd like to watch too.)

He’s irritating and strange, and you’ll know that there’s something seriously wrong with him without ever even needing to see him using his cursed energy.

And as he grows more attached and invests more time and curiosity in you, a rather disturbing situation begins unfolding – you absolutely did not invite Mahito to live with you, but he doesn’t seem to understand that you don’t want him in your apartment every moment of the day.

When you wake up in the mornings, he’s standing over your bed, face so close to yours that he can feel your breaths against his cold lips, his own stretching wider than humanly possible to morph into a grin that immediately has you awake and alert.

He’ll follow you around your modest apartment as you get ready for work, those mismatched eyes of his glued to your figure watching as you get dressed, your movements hurried and uncomfortable because why the fuck is he looking at you like that?

And he’s not quiet about it either – he’s commenting the whole time, talking about how he’s read that the discharge stains visible on your underwear are a sign that you have good vaginal health.

He’s telling you that you really should tighten up the straps on your bra – all the Playboy magazines and borderline pornos he’s seen in theaters always have the women wearing very perky bras, and shouldn’t you be insecure about that like most human women?

(He’s quick to point out that yours aren’t perky, but rather some other description, something much less flattering and much more damaging.)

He’ll watch as you brush your teeth, tilting his head like some sort of animal as those mismatched eyes take in your every movement, a smile slowly forming on his lips that makes something heavy and sick sit in the base of your stomach.

Immediately after you’re done, practically before you’ve finished spitting out the toothpaste, he’s immediately snatching the brush and settling it against his own tongue, twirling around the bristles against his teeth and tongue as he hums. He’s narrating the taste to you, telling you that it’s minty but also a bit sweet and earthy, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks at the bristles and giggles. He’ll follow you around with that damn toothbrush in his mouth, staying glued to your heel like some oversized, murderous puppy.

He’s touching your breakfast as you cook it, a finger reaching in to burst the yolk of your fried egg, a thumb and pointer finger reaching into the toaster to squish and pinch at a section of your toast so that it’s cracked and crumbly and has the imprint of his fingerprints against it.

He’s slipping in through the bottom crack of the door as you use the toilet, peeking up at you and smiling too widely, asking you if it feels good when you urinate? I’ve heard that some women think it feels good to hold it in. Next time you have to go, get me first. I want to see how long you can hold it for.

And as time passes, it only becomes worse – he gets more invasive, more pushy, wanting to insert himself into every possible aspect of your life because you’re just so fascinating and the way you respond to him is just so delicious. He’s still forcing you to share intimate supplies like toothbrushes and underwear.

(Though he never returns the underwear clean after stealing them for a few days. There’s always a multitude of mysterious stains in colors you don’t understand – you can handle the very obvious cum stains, albeit begrudgingly and with bile rising up your throat, but what the hell had he been doing that resulted in bright orange stains?)

He’s still asking you all sorts of questions about extremely personal topics, blinking at you with all the innocent curiosity in the world, making you feel like the crazy one for being uncomfortable when asked how many fingers you’ve ever managed to stuff inside yourself and oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask – have you ever tried fisting? I bet I could put a finger inside you and then just expand it bigger and bigger until it’s the size of my fist or maybe even more. That sounds fun! Let’s do that. Right now.

He’ll be standing next to you as you brush your hair or brush over it, watching intently and prying the brush out of your hands, pulling at the caught strands and plopping them into his mouth, swishing the hairs around before audibly swallowing them, licking his lips and running off to the shower to find any stray hairs against the tiled walls.

(He won’t verbally explain this particular habit to you, but it stems from a strange, possessive desire to have a piece of you inside of him, the concept of having your DNA within his body making him strangely giddy. He refuses to touch or alter your soul simply because he doesn’t want to change anything about you, and this feels the closest he can get in place of it. The closest he can get to you.)

He’ll open up your makeup bag and drawer, digging with grubby fingers and opening each and every product, smearing a bit across his wrist and returning it back uncapped, occasionally grabbing sticks of lipstick and letting his tongue run across the pigmented product, teeth sinking down as he takes a bite, face twisting up a bit because yuck, it tastes like chemicals!

He’ll grab your makeup brushes and run them along the areas of his body that he’s read are the main production points of pheromones, some raunchy article he’d read claiming that women are highly affected by them and are subconsciously attracted to them.

(The brush gets rubbed across his underarms and navel, a few silver, curly hairs getting stuck in the brush bristles that he figures only imbues more of his natural scent into the tool.)

And Mahito isn’t at all shy about doing any of these things in front of you – in fact, he actively encourages you to look, telling you that it’s good to be honest with each other, that it’s sweet how interested you are in what he’s doing, even if that interest manifests as you angrily yelling at him and begging him to stop being such a freak.

Really, Mahito consciously learns about human societal standards and perceptions of privacy and actively breaks them when it comes to you. He likes to see how far he can push you, just how much you can take before you start crumbling.

He wants to understand what makes you tick, how you function, what your biggest fears are, the order you eat your food, the way you breath, how you sniffle and hiccup when you're crying.

He's a freak in every sense of the word, and once he's grown any sort of attachment to you, he's like a parasite that you just can't get rid of. He'll feed off of you, growing greedier and greedier, but still somehow managing to find some new way to humiliate you, some new way to get you angry enough to scream and lash out at him but terrified enough to stop yourself.

And oh, seeing that look on your face when you're angry enough you could cry makes him feel so, so very good, all the blood rushing south and making him tell you in that sing-songy, too-chipper voice of his to give me your panties you're wearing right now, but stay here. It's better when you watch.

He's the worst, in every sense of the word.

#he's so yucky #ew ew ew #_lee rambles #_jjk #_mahito #yandere jjk #yandere mahito

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bosinclairsgff · 10 months ago

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Slashers Reacting to self harm scars Pt. 2

MAJOR WARNING FOR SELF HARM

Includes : Thomas Hewitt, Norman Nordstrom, Mark Hoffman, Herbert West

Warnings: Kidnap

You have been staying with the Hewitt family for a few months now. You had a daily routine, waking up early, doing your daily chores and spending your evening with Tommy. It had been a particularly hard week on the farm, Hoyt was being extremely difficult and hateful towards you. Tommy had been working super late every night and the heat was starting to make you feel sick. Everything combined just pushed you over the edge, so you did the only thing you could think of. You hadn’t relapsed in so long and really disappointed in yourself. Before starting dinner you went to change into a long sleeve top, even though you were burning up. Of course at dinner, Hoyt was the one to point out said long sleeve shirt. “Why the fuck do ya have on a damn long sleeve shirt in the middle of a Texas summer? I know damn sure ya ain’t cold girl.” He spits out making you cringe. Tommy simply grunted in response and that seemed to shut him up. After washing and cleaning up after dinner you decided to head to bed for a early bedtime. Surprisingly you found Tommy waiting for you in your shared room. “What are you doing up here love?” You question while making your way to the bed to sit next to him. He grunts in response. Being satisfied, you lean in and kiss his cheek. He leans into you. Getting up to take of your clothes, you start with your pants then shirt. Completely forgetting about earlier but it was to late you had taken your shirt off and by the angry grunt you heard you knew you had seen them. “I…I can explain!” No one did this to me I swear Tommy, I did it to myself.” You started frantically explaining. Immediately confusion and pain came to his eyes. Why? He questions with a tilt of his head. Tears start to fill your eyes as you try to find the words to explain to him. “I just was so stressed out and overwhelmed, I did the on,y thing I could think of. I’m sorry. I’lol try not to do it again.” You look down. Hearing the bed creak you knew he had gotten up from sitting down. When he got to you, he pulled you into a hug. Not being able to hold back the tears they streamed down your cheeks. The next day he made you let Luda May clean up the wounds. She scolded you but out of pure love for you. The next few weeks everyone was nicer and kept a close eye on you.

Norman had found you trying to break into his home a few days ago. Since then you’d been locked up in his basement, confined to a small padded area. Everyday he’d bring food, water and water his plants. Begging didn’t seem to work with him. You tried explaining you were hungry and needed money, that you didn’t mean him any harm at all. He never listened. Today he brought down a new set of clothes for you and a wash cloth. Even he must have noticed you were starting to stink. Your arms were tied behind your back, legs were free. You couldn’t fight back even if you tried, he was so much stronger than you. You were completely at a disadvantage anyways, having your hands tied. “I’m going to wash you off and change your clothes. If you try to do anything, I will hurt you.” He states in his low voice. You whimper in response. With that he comes into my little corner of the dark world. His hands travel up my legs looking for my jeans buttons and zipper. Once he found it he starts removing my pants, underwear with them. “Wait, wait, why my underwear please I need them.” You cry out. He says nothing. Reaching for the wash cloth he brought you, he began washing your lower half. Kindly, he avoided your most intimate parts, never going above your lower thighs. After he was done he pulled out a pair of boxers and some sweatpants. Norman also pulled out duck tape, bringing your feet together and wrapping them tightly with the tape. He then un did your tied hands, letting you finally stretch your arms out. Reaching for the new shirt he instructed you to take your shirt and bra off. You had no other choice but to obey. “I’m done, I took them off” you whisper. Taking the wash cloth he finds your arms but stops when he feels the light scars. They were to many of them to be a cat scratch or a accidental cut. “Why would you do this to yourself?” Norman questions. Staying silent and holding back tears, he grips your arm tightly. “Answer me. Now.” He barks out. “I was in so much pain, I just needed to get it out. Please your hurting me, let go.” You say slightly sobbing. Satisfied he let go. He didn’t say anything but finished cleaning you and dressing you. Getting up to leave, he turns back towards you. “You never have to do that again.”

You had been dating Mark for about a 6 months. Moving in with him after three months of being together. You’ve gotten closer to him than anyone has in a very long time. He cares about you so much, he’d die for you, kill for you. Mark knew you had struggled with self harm in the past, he’s seen the scars. You’d told him you had gotten better however and stopped doing that stuff. But, Mark had been neglecting you lately and things at work for you had been so hectic. With so much going on and feeling that you had no one to turn to, you cut again. You didn’t know how you’d hide it from him, you didn’t care at the time. As soon as you heard his keys Turing in the lock though, you cared. Frantically you looked for a long sleeve shirt. Just as he walked in you found one. “Y/n? I’m home, are you here?” He calls out. “Yes! I’m changing I’ll be there in a sec babe.” You respond. Fuck, why did you do that. What will you tell him if he see? You two have your normal after work conversations. He had brought Chinese takeout home for dinner. While reaching for plates to eat on your shirt revealed a bit of your arm, you didn’t notice but Mark did. “Y/n, what are those marks on your arm?” He questions but he already knows the answer. You freeze not knowing what to say. “Why would you do that. I thought we had moved on from such foolish behavior. You are an adult now, you cannot keep acting out like this, you know better y/n.” He shakes his head disapproving of your poor choices. “I’m sorry Mark, I was so stressed I didn’t know what else to do. Please don’t be mad I’m sorry.” You say holding back tears. He gets up and pulls you into a hug. “Either you control yourself of you’ll end up in some hospital where someone else will control you. That’s your decision. I love you, let’s eat.” He says letting go.

Herbert was always so busy with work. He would come home and go straight to the basement, to go and do more work. It seemed like he never had time for you, more like he’d never make time for you. To be honest you didn’t even know what you guys were. Sure you lived together and slept in the same bed but half the time he’d talk to you as if you were a dumb child. It was tiring always being talk down to. Yes Herbert was an extremely intelligent man but you weren’t dumb either. Anyways, with the stress of normal everyday life and having a man who constantly treats you badly you finally relapsed. You hadn’t planned on cutting again, it just happened. To be honest you didn’t even think he’d care if he saw it, you wanted him to though so badly. It was almost midnight when Herbert got home. You were still up watching tv in the living room. “Y/n? Why are you still up? It’s almost midnight. Go to bed.” He said calmly, more like ordered. “I wanted to see you and maybe we could go to bed together. You always come to bed so late, I miss you. Please?” You question. Herbert pauses for a moment thinking. “You know I have a lot of work to do y/n. You can’t be selfish with my time.” He states. You scoff at the comment he made. “How can I be selfish with your time? I never get any of it. You are always in that damn basement or at work. I go to bed, the bed is empty. I wake up, the bed is empty. We don’t even really live together.” You say as you feel the tears starting to form. He’s taken back by this sudden outburst. The living room was dark, only the tv lighting up the room. Herbert flipped on the light switch. That’s when he saw your arm. He’s whole demeanor changed. Walking up to you he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Why the hell would you do something so, so, stupid!? What if they got infected or what if you cut to deep, huh? Then what? Do you want to die y/n!” He shouts. You couldn’t stop the tears. You’ve never seen him so angry and hurt. “I need to clean these up.” He calmly states while dragging you to the bathroom. The room is silent aside from Herbert getting alcohol to clean the cuts with from the cabinet. “This will burn, you probably won’t mind though considering you did this in the first place.” He says coldly. It did sting, you cry out and try to pull away but he holds you in place. “Nu huh, you don’t get to run from it. You wanted to feel pain, so feel pain.” He whispers in your ear. You’ve never seen him act so coldly towards you. After the burning went away he wrapped your arms with gauze to make sure it stays clean. Herbert walked you to the bedroom and made the bed for you. “I want you to go to bed now y/n. I’m very disappointed in you. I never want to see you do something so stupid again. Do you understand me?” He questions. You only nod in response.

#horror #horror fan #horror movie #horror movies #horror films #slasher x reader #slashers #saw franchise #mark hoffman fluff #mark hoffman x reader #norman nordstrom x reader #herbert west #herbert west x reader #thomas hewitt #the texas chainsaw massacre #slasher x s/o #bosinclairsgff

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thebisexualdogdad · 1 year ago

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Buggy the clown x male reader. Buggy’s being difficult and annoying so he loses sex privileges. So we take his dick. “Mine now.”

Buggy x Male!reader - Detached

"But Y/N I don't want to have dinner with your friends," Buggy huffs, standing completely naked in front of you with a nice suit laid out on the bed in the room you two had been staying in.

The crew had traveled back to syrup village so Usopp could see Kaya and all you had asked Buggy to do was wear one of the suits from the wardrobe she so graciously offered you guys but he was being as stubborn and difficult as ever.

"Don't you want to dress up nice just for a night?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest to show him you were upset with him.

"The suit isn't the problem, well it sort of is the boys have no room to breathe in that thing," he says gesturing to his junk, "but haven't I tolerated your friends enough? I've been stuck on a boat with them for three months and I haven't killed any of them yet."

"Buggy if you and me are going to work you have to try to actually like my friends not just tolerate them," you state.

"But they are so annoying," he says dramatically, "and do I need to remind you they kept my head in a bag!"

"Fine," you say, grabbing his exposed dick right off his body thanks to his separation powers, "this is mine now."

"Y/N!!" Buggy shouts looking down at where his dick is supposed to be and then back up to your hand where it currently is, "give it back!"

"Nope, you aren't getting this or sex again until you promise you will try to get along with my friends."

Even detached from his body his dick was reacting to your touch and started to stiffen in your hand.

"Dammit why am I getting turned on by this," he mumbles, "fine, fine I will be nice to your friends."

"I don't know if I believe you," you say just to mess with him.

"I will, I will I promise, now please give me my dick back," he pleads.

Buggy's dick is only growing harder and it gives you an idea, an idea that you know Buggy would absolutely enjoy.

"Actually, I've thought of something better to do before dinner," you smirk, raising his dick to your mouth and popping the tip between your lips.

Buggy groans, fully feeling what you are doing to him.

He's staring at you in awe, wanting to touch himself but that part of him is already preoccupied.

You release his dick from your lips with a pop and set it upright on the bed next to the suit, "I want to see you fuck yourself Bug."

He nods excitedly, crawling onto the bed and situating himself above his own dick, letting you guide it inside him.

"Oh god," he moans when he bottoms out.

"Does that feel good? Your own dick inside you?" You ask.

Buggy can't get any words out, only sounds of pleasure filling the room answering your question.

"Better get moving, dinner starts in twenty minutes," you tell him, standing back and watching him begin to bounce on his dick.

He's moaning loudly at the feeling of getting fucked by his own dick, why did he never think to do this before?

You undo the buttons of the slacks you had chosen to wear to dinner and he groans when he sees your own hard dick peeking through the top of your underwear.

"Please let me suck you off," he begs, still bouncing steadily.

You lower the band of your underwear, your dick flopping out so you can stroke yourself.

"You want to suck me off?" You ask, stepping closer to buggy but just out of his reach.

"Please, please baby I swear I'll behave, I'll wear the suit, I'll do whatever you want just let me suck you off while I ride my dick," he says, reaching out for you.

"Well since you asked so nicely," you chuckle, letting Buggy grab your waist and pull you close enough for him to eagerly take your dick in his mouth.

It's sloppy as he's riding himself but damn does it feel good with his moans reverberating through your body.

He grabs your ass, pushing you towards him even closer so he chokes on your dick, gagging but loving every second of it.

"Good boy Buggy," you say, playing with his blue hair and he expertly bobs his head letting the tip hit the back of his throat repeatedly.

He's so close, he can feel himself reaching the edge but he holds off knowing how amazing it would be to feel you cum in his throat at the same time he cums in himself.

And he's right.

After a few more blissful minutes of sucking you off you're shooting cum directly down his throat which takes him over the edge as he fills his own ass with his cum.

His eyes are glazed in a post cum euphoria when you pull your dick out of his mouth, cum dribbling down his chin and a smile on his face.

He slowly stops riding himself, raising his hips so his cum covered dick can fly back to where it's supposed to be and he collapses onto the mattress.

"That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced," he says, chest heaving with his dick still twitching.

"I'm glad you had fun," you laugh, stuffing your dick back in your pants, "now hurry up and get dressed, we have to be downstairs in two minutes.

"Okay, okay," he says lazily rolling off the bed, "but we gotta do that again sometime."

You hand him the suit and grin, "if you keep your promise maybe next time we'll see if you can take my dick and your own dick at the same time."

His jaw drops at just the thought of it, "you are a fucking genuis."

"Thanks baby but seriously put that damn suit on I'm hungry and don't want to miss appetizers."

#one piece imagine #buggy imagine #buggy x reader #buggy the clown imagine #x male reader #fic

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obetrolncocktails · 1 year ago

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Ignition | Danny Wagner X f!Reader X Jake Kiszka | Part 5

Have you read Part 4?

Warnings: Minors ABSOLUTELY DNI! (18+), SOAKED PANTIES/ UNDERWEAR ALERT, intense sexual tension, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, teasing, foreplay, fingering, fluff, brief mentions of feelings of inadequacy, graphic descriptions of sex. (YOU AND DANNY FINALLY FAWK).

Word Count: 9,741K

A/N: This might be some of my favorite writing I've done in a while, ESPECIALLY the smut. I tried my best to make this smut seem as realistic as possible to how I think Danny would behave...take that as you will. 😈

Here’s a link to the song mentioned in the fic: Mr. Forgettable—David Kushner

Here’s a link to the Spotify Ignition Playlist: Ignition

“Kenn, I think we might…you know–” you told one of your close friends through facetime.

“Oh?” She asked, taking a sip of her iced latte through the camera. “This is Danny, right? Not Jake?”

“Definitely not Jake,” you insisted. “We haven’t really been talking lately.”

“Oh. What happened?” She asked disappointedly, having been left out of the loop since the last phone call.

“Well, I finally told him how I felt, and things didn’t really go well. He completely ghosted me for like two weeks until I confronted him at rehearsal, and even now things are really weird. I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to blow off the hurt that you most definitely still felt. “We haven’t talked,” you shrugged.

“Wait, so you told him you liked him, and he just disappeared?” She asked, slurping loudly through her straw.

“Yeah,” you said simply, plopping your head down into your covers before lifting it again.

“Maybe it freaked him out,” Kenn replied. “I don’t know. But that’s weird that he acted like that. Did he tell you if he had feelings or not?”

“He said he didn’t love me like that. He said he’d always be there for me and then literally disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“Damn,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry, Y/n,” She apologized gently. “I really wish I could be there with you. We’d have a sleepover and we’d do the whole ‘eat Ben & Jerry’s and cry’ thing.”

You shrugged, chuckling softly. “Honestly, I think I’m past all that. Danny and I are kind of a thing, now,” you explained. “I don’t know where it’s gonna go, and things are still new, but he’s such a good guy, and he makes me feel–I don’t know,” you blushed.

“Sexy? Like you’re floating?” She asked, grinning widely.

“All of the above. And more,” You answered. “Jake will come around eventually, and if he doesn’t, I’ll be sad, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Kenn asked. “You guys are so close, Y/n. I can’t imagine you and Jake just not being a package deal, you know?”

Her bringing up the obvious made you uncomfortable. She’d asked the questions you’d avoided for weeks. “I miss him, and I’m fucking angry. I never thought he’d act like this, even if he didn’t like me–and now, I just don’t get it.”

“He hasn’t tried to talk to you? Not at all?”

You shook your head. “Nope. I yelled at him at rehearsal last week though,” you explained. Kenn snorted.

“Oh my God. Hell hath no fury like Y/n when she’s pissed off,” She continued. “What did you say?”

“He kept giving me all of these excuses as to why he couldn’t or wouldn’t reach out to me first…that I should have been the first one to reach back out to him knowing I had already put myself out there and got rejected by him. Who does that to their best friend?”

Kenn shook her head. “A jackass. But like–remember when we were talking, and all the signs were adding up? I swore that he had feelings,” she explained with a confused expression. “Jake wasn’t hard for me to read at all. Every single thing that you told me sounded like he had feelings.” She took another sip of her beverage before shaking the empty cup of ice. “I had no doubt.”

“Ugh, why are boys so fucking difficult to figure out?!” You groaned, covering your face with your pillow. “Like why did God make me straight? This is sick!”

Kenn chuckled. “All men, I swear, have rocks in their heads.”

“You’re telling me!” You agreed, your attention moving elsewhere when you felt your phone vibrate as you began receiving a call. It was Danny.

“Speaking of men, I’ve got a good one calling.”

“I love you, bestie. Keep me updated on Danny. Let me know if I need to kick his ass, too, and I’ll make the trip ASAP.”

“I will, I promise.”

You hung up with her promptly before switching over the call.

“Hi,” you said with a smile.

“Hi gorgeous,” he said through the phone with a delightful tone. “What are you up to?” He asked.

“Nothing really, just got off the phone with Kenn.”

“That’s nice, did you guys have a good call?” You nodded, though he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, we only get to talk like once or twice a month, so it was nice to catch up.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Are you in bed yet?” He asked, hope laced into the question.

“Not even close,” you told him. “Why?”

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone,” he said flirtatiously.

“I’m sworn to secrecy. Signed by a notary,” you answered playfully.

“Wow, that’s really official. Truth be told, I have a craving.”

“A craving?” You asked, grinning.

“Yup. I figured I’d ask you if you had a craving too, and then, if you would like to possibly fix that craving, maybe perhaps we could carpool to a convenience store…” he said, obviously beating around the bush.

“Let me see,” you replied. “Oh yeah, you know, I could totally go for a Reese’s right now. I’m fresh out.”

“Oh man, that sucks! But, guess what? I just so happen to have a car!”

“Danny, you know I have a car, too, right?” You chuckled.

“I had no idea women could drive!” He joked.

“You deserve to be punched for that,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“Be careful, I like women who are hands on.”

“You’re a loser,” You answered, getting up from the bed, smoothing out your clothes.

“Your loser, I hope,” he suggested.

“My loser,” you agreed.

“I’ll be over in ten then, loser,” he replied quickly, hanging up before you could protest. Soon, you heard his car pull up, his engine purring loudly outside of your window.

“You were just looking for an excuse to see me, weren’t you?” You asked him as you stepped down your front stairs, being careful to not trip over them in the dark.

“No, of course not! I was just craving some sweet chili Doritos, but was scared to go to the store alone,” he answered, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d call up a buddy.”

“Is that what I am to you, Daniel Wagner?” You asked, ducking down to peer at him through his passenger window. You crossed your arms across your chest. “I’m your buddy?” You lifted your eyebrows skeptically with the question.

“I have a secret,” he said quietly, pulling his finger upward in a ‘come here’ gesture.

“What?” You asked.

“Get in and I'll tell you,” he said with a grin. You eyed him with suspicion, but opened the car door, sinking down into the seat beside him. As soon as you were settled inside, he lifted his hand to tilt your face, leaning his body over the center console to deliver a breathtaking kiss, his fingertips caressing your jaw and the curve of your neck just like before. This kiss was different though, because now, his touch was comfortable and confident. His fingertips knitted into your hair, and yours lifted upward to rest on his shoulder and chest, bunching his shirt in your hands as you deepened the kiss. Adjusting in your seat, you turned your body to him, moving as best you could in such a small space. “Why’d you have to kiss me like that in this tiny fucking car?” You asked breathlessly.

“Because I like the challenge,” Danny said, licking his lips as he sat back in his seat, his chest heaving. “Plus I’m a glutton for punishment. Oh and I lied about what I was craving,” he added, looking over at you, a glimmer in his eye.

“Oh?” You answered simply.

“Yeah. You just fixed it.” At that, your cheeks flamed embarrassingly pink, your skin heating up to the point of almost being feverish.

“Where did you learn to be so fucking smooth?” You chuckled. He grinned like he had just won something.

“I’ve got quick wit, Y/n,” he said cleverly. “Also I had to put a lot of practice into impressing you,” he said, flashing his white teeth in a broad smile.

“You’re such a dork ,” you grinned widely, still feeling the pressure of his lips against yours. Really, you wanted him to go even further, testing your boundaries.

“Stay over tonight,” you said, laying your head back against the headrest, turning to look at him. “Stay with me,” you told him again, relaxing your expression into one of seriousness. “Please,” you added, placing your opened palm on the center console, waiting for his answer.

“How’d you feel coming over to my place?” He asked you. “Since we’re still parked in your driveway,” he grinned, looking outside and then back at you. “No pressure, of course.”

“I think I’d like that,” You agreed. “Still up for snacks?” You asked him.

“Nah, not really. It was all a ploy to get you here with me,” he grinned.

“You know you could have just asked to hang out like a normal person.” You told him with an enthused expression.

“What would be the fun in that, though? I like to keep you on your toes.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the door handle. “Give me five minutes to grab some things,” you told him. The smile that you got in return from him filled you with eagerness and excitement. You practically skipped up the stairs inside your house to pack an overnight bag, a smile embedded in your expression the entire time.

***

It’s interesting how ceiling fans always become one of the most cliché details in sad, miserable stories, Jake thought, repetitively tossing one of Danny’s GVF golf balls in the air. He had spent most of the evening lying in place, still dressed in the clothes he wore earlier that day. As he lay, his mind wandered to the image of you and Danny kissing at your house. Once he let himself reimagine it, he’d inserted himself into your arms, imagining if it was him kissing you, him laughing with you, and him sharing his feelings with you. He’d fucked it all up so severely that it was too late to go back now. If he wanted you, he’d have to make a mess, and though Jake hadn’t been one to start drama, losing you wasn’t something he was willing to do.

“Are you gonna get up and actually do something?” Josh asked, stepping into the room, turning on the light.

“Ugh!” Jake groaned, rolling over in bed. “Why the fuck are you in my house?” He asked.

“Because you won’t answer my texts and calls, and quite frankly, it hurt my feelings,” Josh said mostly out of sarcasm. “What’s the problem?”

Jake looked over at his brother, considering if he had the energy to pour out his heart to Josh. Instead, he sighed and looked back up at the spinning fan and continued to toss the ball into the air.

“Come on,” Josh said. “I can only handle so much brooding before I begin to get jealous from you stealing the limelight.�� Jake scoffed with a small grin.

“You’re an asshat,” he said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Tell me what’s going on. I know who it’s about, at least,” Josh admitted.

“What do you mean?” Jake said, catching the ball one last time, turning to face his brother.

“Oh give me a break,” Josh said, coming to sit in the deep papasan chair in Jake’s room, leaning back in it and folding his legs underneath his body. “It’s Y/n. Everyone knows, Jake.”

“What exactly do they know?” Jake said, reaching his hand back with the ball, spurring Josh to open his hands in preparation to catch the ball. Carefully they tossed it back and forth as they spoke.

“That you’re an idiot,” Josh began. “Why did you tell her you didn’t have feelings for her? Like, what kind of bullshit was that?” He continued. “You and I both know you’ve been crazy about her since you met her.”

Jake caught the ball and sighed deeply before tossing it back. “I don’t know. I panicked in the moment,” he said. “Nothing ever ends well for me. She’s my best friend. Everyone says don’t fall in love with your best friend, and when she told me she had feelings for me, I just wanted to run away, I–” He shook his head, fumbling for the ball and missing it, watching as it hit the wall with a loud thwack.

“Shit,” He said, inspecting the wall for damage.

“Come in the kitchen for shots,” Josh suggested. “I’ll steal your casamigos,” he grinned. “Let’s talk.”

“I don’t feel like talking,” Jake argued.

“Well, that’s what you’ve been doing, Jackass. Now get off your ass and talk to me, or I’ll become your worst nightmare.”

“You’ve been that way since we were born,” Jake grinned slightly, rolling off of his bed.

“And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, either,” Josh finished. “Come on.”

***

“Got everything you need?” Danny asked as you placed your bag on the floor board. He reached his hand over to squeeze your thigh. You nodded with a gentle smile.

“I think so,” You said, buckling your seatbelt, and offering Danny a gentle smile.

“Still feel like coming over?” He asked you. “No pressure.”

“Danny, I promise. I want to,” you assured him, reaching over and kissing him on the lips. “I want to stay with you.”

“Okay,” he said in a low murmur, grinning softly. “Okay.”

The drive to his house was quiet, but content, his right hand clasped with yours as you rested it on your thigh. You looked out at the night lights as Danny’s music played softly through the car. Danny lived on the other side of town, but much closer to downtown than you’d remembered. Since the boys moved to Nashville, you hadn’t really spent time at his house. Usually, band meetings, rehearsals and get-togethers would take place at Jake’s or Josh’s depending on who was feeling like hosting at the time. Coming here to Danny’s felt like an exciting new adventure.

“You’re quiet over there,” he said after a while, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, I was just thinking,” You told him, squeezing his hand and offering him a small smile.

“Everything alright?” He asked, stealing quick glances at you.

“Yeah, It’s just–I can’t remember when I was at your house last. I don’t know if I’ve even been inside,” you said honestly.

“Well, I can guarantee you, it looks just like a house on the inside,” He winked at you. “I’ve got a couch, a fridge–ooh and even a bed, if that surprises you,” he winked, turning into his neighborhood.

“You better watch it,” You told him. “I’ll start holding it against you,” you grinned. “And you don’t want me to do that.”

“I don’t?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly would my punishment entail?” Danny asked.

“I’ll spank you,” you warned him, narrowing your eyes with determination.

“You’re gonna spank me?” He asked through a chuckle, pulling into his driveway.

“Don’t tempt me, Wagner. Your height, stature and masculinity means nothing to me.”

“Be careful what you say in tight spaces, sweetheart.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“Because you just might get more than you bargained for.”

“Is that a challenge?” You asked, reaching for the door handle.

“It’s a promise,” he said, stepping out of his car and coming around to you, swiftly reaching up underneath you, pulling you upward.

“Danny!” You practically squealed.

“Up you go!” He said playfully, letting you dangle over his shoulder. Figuring you needed to even the score, you reached back and slapped his ass as hard as you could as he marched up his driveway.

“Ow!” he yelped, stepping up to his porch.

“And eye for an eye!” You told him with a chuckle.

After the playful moment, he carefully swung you back down on your feet and reached for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the door, and opening it for you. “Come on in,” he said, letting you walk past him into the dimly lit foyer of the house. It was decorated with modern taste, with beautiful wood floors installed throughout the entire house. It was an open concept, breathing life into the space, with thoughtful decorations that were most definitely hand picked by Danny throughout the time of being in Nashville.

In the corner, you saw his golf bag, the clubs sticking out of it at different angles, like he had recently played.

“I should take you some time,” he grinned, following your gaze. “I’d love to see your form,” He said. “Think you could keep up?”

“No, I’d be absolutely awful at it,” you admitted, looking up at him. “But, you know what I would be really good at?”

“Mm, what’s that?” He asked.

“I’d be wonderful at sitting on the golf cart, giving you a big ol’ clap when you make a good shot, and then handing you a fresh beer every now and then.”

“That’s because you’re dependable, sweetheart,” He said, bending to kiss you on the top of your head. The flirtatious conversation had left you fighting a swarm of butterflies, the pet names making your heart practically swell in your chest.

“Are we gonna spend the entire evening doing this?” You asked, the corner of your mouth quirking up with playfulness.

“Doing what?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen and reaching into his refrigerator for a cold bottle of wine. You watched his arms muscles flex as he reached up into the cabinets to retrieve two wine glasses.

“Flirting with me constantly with no end in sight?” You asked, stepping toward him.

“Is it a crime to flirt with a beautiful woman?” He asked, pouring a glass of wine.

“It is when it drives me fucking crazy,” you said matter of factly, watching as he casually shook the curls from his head.

“Well in that case,” he said, setting down the full glass, pushing it back on the counter. “Let me make it worse,” he said as he took the last step forward, his hands finding their way to your hips. His face hovering just above yours, and his eyes floated over the curve of your lips, his nose resting perfectly alongside yours. “How about now?” He asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I think you should kiss me, Danny Wagner,” you told him. “Now.”

“I like it when you get annoyed with me. This is new,” he grinned. Leaning in slowly, he placed his lips on yours and delivered a delicate kiss, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You pressed yourself firmly against him, feeling him reciprocate with stronger urgency, his lips folding in time with yours as you inhaled his scent, knotting your fingers into his curls and tugging. He groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving downward to grab at your ass as he turned around with you, walking you back against the counter. You felt his hot breath expel against your skin, his slick lips beginning to wander from your mouth, down to the hollow of your neck. He took your earlobe in between his teeth and pressed down, pulling away just enough to elicit a soft hiss from you. He chuckled sexily, his curls tickling your face as he leaned into the crook of your neck, touching his lips to what he thought was the perfect spot. You felt his teeth, then felt the vacuum from him sucking on your skin, leaving a hickey for the next day. “So everyone knows that you belong to someone. To me.” It was bliss to be wrapped up with Danny, and he ensured that you’d feel like the only woman he could see. You felt the small welt pulse

“Danny, take me to bed,” you whispered as he kissed you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, pulling away from you to look into your eyes.

“Let’s just lay together,” you decided to say, knowing you most definitely wanted more, but not sure if it was the right moment or not.

“Okay,” he said gently with a smile, reaching for your hand. You walked through the house as he led you to his bedroom, having completely forgotten about the wine. He would need no liquid courage tonight. He was already becoming drunk off of you.

***

“Show me your favorites,” Danny asked in bed with you cuddling him, your head resting on his chest. He’d been swiping through several of his Spotify playlists, playing snippets of several different songs, but never fully committing to playing the whole song through—you’d assume he’d tried to avoid the opportunity for awkwardness. It was amusing to you how he could be so effortlessly effervescent one moment, and then so reserved and bashful the next.

“Play me a full song that you love,” you redirected. “One that you know I won’t know,” you said, turning your head to look up at him. “I just wanna listen. Can be anything.” His fingertips paused.

“Alright,” he agreed softly, scrolling through his music before stopping at one song called ‘Mr. Forgettable,’ by David Kushner. You watched his thumb hover over the song, hesitating before swiping away.

“No wait,” you stopped him by touching his arm. “Play me that one.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, his tone rising lightly with hesitation. You watched as he pressed play, sitting the phone on his belly and laying back. In the low light of his bedroom, you closed your eyes and listened.

I know that you're waiting for me like a dog But have some patience for the part of me that's lost There's been a hundred times When I don't recognize Any of you that love me I try to memorize and identify But it's all getting foggy My head is in the clouds right now Just pray I come around, around Hello, hello, are you lonely? I'm sorry, it's just the chemicals Hello, hello, do you know me? I'm called Mr. Forgettable Mr. Forgettable

You listened quietly as you rested on his chest, finding it just so that his heart thumped to the beat of the song. Every now and then, you’d feel a vibration against your ear as he hummed his favorite parts. It was a sad song with a cheerful beat, which you found quite ironic considering its content. Once it was over, you let the silence linger for a few moments before tilting your head to look up at him.

“Do you feel like that?” You asked him softly, your throat aching. His eyes drifted from the phone screen to your eyes, then your lips and then back up again. He swallowed once.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly.

“You feel like you’re forgettable?” You pushed further, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It’s okay, really,” he said with a gentle smile, though he wouldn’t look you in the eye. “I’ve felt like that most of my life,” he sighed.

“Danny…” you started, watching as his cheeks pinkened with embarrassment. “You’ll never be forgettable to me.” You placed your hand on his chest and his eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips pulling into a flat line as his expression grew more serious. “Let me prove to you that you’re becoming everything to me,” You said, lifting your hand to his cheek, watching as his eyes lowered to your mouth. You moved closer to him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as he rolled into you, kissing you tentatively at first, as if testing your boundaries. “It’s okay,” you whispered into the space between you.

Danny moved to press himself against you, his weight adding a welcome sense of comfort as his hands moved around your body, his fingertips pressing into your skin. “More,” you huffed against his lips. “I trust you.”

“You do?” He asked, pausing for just a moment.

“I want more of you, Danny. Please.” His hands move reflexively for the hem of your shirt, and you lifted your arms over your head as he pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side. His hand snaked up your bare skin, his fingertips dipping under the cup of your bra as he kissed you. You felt his touch as he moved his hand around your body, his teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip as his tongue danced expertly with yours. Slowly, he released his nervous and patient apprehension, gladly appeasing your request. You reached your hand down where he had paused, pulling his hand upward to hold your breast, guiding him with your hand on top of his. His grip tightened around your breast, his thumb grazing your swelling nipple, a soft, breathy chuckle escaping from his nose as he moved over the bud again, igniting a layer of goosebumps all over your body. Softly, you moaned into his mouth, reaching your hands down to cup his clothed cock, finally realizing how well-endowed he was. You walked your fingertips upward and unzipped his pants, nimbly unfastening the button closure with two fingers, reaching just inside and immediately felt the heat emanating from him.

Slowly, you walked your fingers down his lower belly and smoothed them over his bulge. His length hardened beneath your touch, and you could feel him tense and then release. You felt his grip tighten around your breast in response as he moved to flip you so that you were on top of him. Rising from him, you moved your hair out of the way to one side and lowered yourself back down, kissing him deeply. Closing your eyes, you intentionally ground your hips against his firm cock, feeling your own muscles begin to contract and release as they silently begged for his attention.

“You’re such a tease,” he breathed through a sexy smirk, reaching up to unclasp your bra.

“I’ve said it before, Danny. I’m full of surprises,” you murmured under your breath, your tone heavy with desire. “I’m not always the innocent girl you think I am,” you told him.

“Then drag me to hell.” He let your bra slip off of your skin, falling onto his belly. He tossed it to the end of the bed before bringing his eyes up to your chest.

“Jesus,” he groaned again, and you smirked down at him, watching as his eyes widened for a moment before slipping into a lustful expression, his hands moving to squeeze them firmly in his hands, his thumbs moving instantly to rub over your nipples, biting at his bottom lip when they swelled to their full, aroused state.

“Like what you see?” You asked him, resting your hands on his sides.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/n. How could you not know how incredibly gorgeous you are?” He asked, moving his fingertips to smooth over your bare sides and belly.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you admitted. “I’ve wanted you for a while, Danny.”

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he added. “I have to admit,” he started, but paused.

“What?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“I’ve imagined what it would be like to be with you,” he explained. You watched as his cheeks flushed.

“You have?” You asked him, beginning to grind your hips against him slowly as he spoke. You watched his expression shift slightly as you felt his cock press against your ass through his unzipped pants.

“So many times,” he admitted quietly, reaching his hands to your hips. He pulled you down further against himself, lifting his hips to grind against your ass.

“You’ve definitely been on my mind too,” you told him.

“Oh?” He asked.

“Mmhmm. Usually late at night when I can’t sleep,” you continued. “My thoughts wander…”

“And what do they come up with?” He asked, whispering his fingertips over your belly, making you shiver from his ghosting touch.

“Usually they’re thoughts of you,” you explained. “Naked.”

“And what exactly am I doing in these thoughts?” He asked, the corner of his mouth tilting with interest.

“You’re with me,” you answered, echoing his touch, walking your fingertips up his belly, taking note of the dark wisps of hair that adorned his chest. Not too much, not too little, just right. He was masculine, but sensitive and understanding, and that duality had the power to drive you absolutely insane.

“Why’s it so hard for you to say, Y/n?” Danny asked, bringing his hand down to meet yours, interlacing your fingers together. “What were we doing?” His confidence, though so understated and reserved before now settled into a presence that was simultaneously charming and incredibly sexy.

“We were—you know,” you responded sheepishly, looking up into his eyes.

“Fucking?” He asked quietly, his brown dilating with interest. You nodded yes, but the images in your mind were racing: you bouncing on his cock, your hair falling loose and wild over your breasts, your mouth dropped open in ecstasy as he railed into you. “You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you?” He asked, his lips drawing upward in a crooked line.

You didn’t answer him. The heat in your face and averted gaze told him everything you needed to know. He chuckled softly, “look at me,” he commanded, and you did, turning your gaze downward. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t imagined the same thing,” he admitted.

The space between you and him was thick with need and anticipation. “Danny…” you said after a moment. “Are we moving too fast?” You asked him.

“Do you think we are?” He turned the question around. “Listen,” he said gently. “ I’ve waited for you for over two years. I can wait as long as you need.” You smiled down at him, biting your bottom lip as you took notice of how sexy it felt to have a man so considerate and understanding as your own. Slowly, you moved off of his lap, laying down and cuddling against him, lying in the crook of his arm.

“I really, really like you Danny.

“And I really, really, really like you, Y/n,” he responded with a smirk, looking down at you as you tilted to look up at him.

You echoed his expression. “Kiss me,” you told him. With his free hand, he tilted your head upward by your chin and leaned slightly to place his supple lips on your own. He was so gentle and tender, taking his time as he kissed you. “Let’s slow things down a bit,” he said, smiling against your lips. “Hm?”

“Mmhmm,” you breathed against his kiss, lifting your hand to rest on his cheek, your fingertips dancing upon the curls that dance upon the curve of his ear. His tongue looped around yours, hot puffs of breath exchanging between your mouths. You kicked at the sheets and covers bunched around your legs, and wrapped one around Danny as you lay with him. In his arms, you felt infinitely beautiful, and more importantly, you felt important and valuable.

***

“Thank you,” you said after a long while.

“For what?” He chuckled softly.

“Just for being you. For being just…incredible,” you told him, feeling your pulse thumping through your chest. “For being my person.”

“You’re my person,” he said, taking your hand in his, kissing it. “And I have a question for you,” he continued.

“What is it?”

You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down for a moment before he finally spoke. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, squeezing your hand softly.

You paused for a moment, a bright smirk growing on your face. “Do you think you can handle me full-time?” You asked him expectantly.

“Honey, I crave it,” he told you. “All of you. Every day. The silly things, the important things…the happiest things and the saddest ones too. So yes, I think I can handle you. Should I ask you the same question?”

“Danny, you’re probably the lowest-maintenance man I’ve ever dated,” you explained with a soft grin. “You’re just so– easy.” you landed on the word, and it felt right because it was true. “I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about what you’re thinking or feeling. So yes, Danny. I think I can definitely handle you. I want you–full time,” you smirked.

***

You’d both let the evening settle, resting on Danny’s chest until, when it became too hot, you’d turned in the other direction, fluffing Danny’s pillows and settling yourself back to sleep. You’d been restless, tossing and turning in bed. It wasn’t Danny’s fault; ever since you were young, you were plagued with being a hot sleeper, ending up kicking off the tangle of sheets and covers toward the end of the bed. Once you’d fallen asleep, images of Danny filled your mind, just like they had before, of him touching you and making love to you after you’d given your body to him completely. In your drowsiness, you’d grown increasingly annoyed with the layer of sweat that had begun to stick to your body, pasting the bottom sheet to your underside. As you rolled around, you uttered sleepy ‘sorries’ to Danny, who moved sleepily to touch you and kiss you before turning over again. You drifted between dreams for the next few hours until you’d roused yourself fully awake again, unable to coax yourself back to sleep. Rubbing at your burning eyes, you rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, trying your best to not bother Danny asleep beside you. He lay fast asleep as you watched him for a moment, tiptoeing around the bed as you moved toward the door.

The house was dark, save for a small lamp in the living room and the recessed LEDs underneath the cabinets in the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you searched for the glasses, finding one and stepping toward the fridge, using the water dispenser to fill up the cup. You moved to ice next, hoping that it wouldn’t create much noise, but you were so wrong. Several pieces of ice tumbled out, hitting the sides of your glass and knocking out of the freezer tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, bending to pick up the ice cubes, kicking the few strays that you couldn’t reach under the freezer, smiling to yourself while imagining Danny’s grin if you had confessed that you were one of those people.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You jolted, almost dropping your glass of water when you heard his voice. Turning around, you saw Danny stepping into the kitchen, his eyes heavy-lidded, dressed in nothing but thin, black boxers. God-fucking-damn, you thought to yourself, feeling your core activate with need. You squeezed your thighs closer together, clearing your throat.

“Oh,” you began. “Yeah, sorry. I got really hot and couldn’t sleep.” Danny stepped closer to you, his bare chest and shoulders illuminated in the low light as he stopped to lean against the counter beside you, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “Truth be told, I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a grin. “You were gone when I got up. Didn’t even move.”

“That’s because I was pretending,” he grinned.

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking at him skeptically.

“I was thinking about you,” he admitted.

You could have cursed him for having such a sultry gaze in the moment, coming up with something smart or clever to say in response, but this time he had entranced you, moving you to silence. He watched you for a long moment as you swallowed and set down your glass of water.

“You okay?” He asked you.

“I’m fine,” you answered him, deciding in the moment that you wanted him in every meaning of the word. You stepped closer to him. “Danny.”

“Y/n.” He answered, his hands uncrossing to fall at your sides, caressing your hips as you stepped into his space. “I think,” you began, mustering the courage and honesty to finally say “I want you to take me to bed–and I don’t mean to sleep.”

He paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” you answered, reaching down for his hands. “Please. I want to know every part of you,” you alluded. “Take me to bed, Danny.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said quietly, leaning forward to place one delicate, but tender kiss on your lips. Squatting slightly, his hands moved behind you, reaching behind your knees to hike you up easily, carrying you silently through the house and into his bedroom. With your arms around him, you felt safe and secure. The moment filled you with excitement and nervousness too, and you no longer felt the insecurities from earlier in the evening. As he moved with you through the threshold of the bedroom, Danny skillfully swung the door shut with his foot and stepped toward the end of the bed where the covers lay unkempt and tangled. Holding you securely with one hand, he pulled the sheets and comforter off of the bed, letting it fall to the floor. Gently, he leaned forward and laid you on your back, staying close for a moment. “If at any time,” he murmured gently, “you feel uncomfortable or you want to stop, you tell me, okay?” You watched as his gaze swept between your eyes, waiting for you to respond. “It’s just us, together. I want it to be perfect,” he explained, bringing his thumb upward to caress your cheek.

“Me too,” you nodded. “Danny please,” you continued. You appreciated how sweet he was, but the heat and stimulation in between your thighs was starting to become unbearable.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a flirtatious wink before lowering off of you, reaching underneath your oversized sleep shirt to pull at the waistband of your panties, rolling them down off of you. You watched as his head lowered, and his dark curls swept over your lower belly, tickling your skin. Gently, he placed a soft, velvety kiss on the lines from the waistband that had dug impressions into your skin. Glancing up at you through dark lashes with an eager grin, he rolled your underwear down further, exposing your last vestige of privacy–and yet, beneath his heavy gaze, you felt inexplicably radiant. He looked at you like exquisite, cherished art–like something to behold and to protect–or like how a well-learned sculptor gazes at a monolithe of marble, his mind chipping away the extra pieces to reveal the masterpiece beneath it all.

“I’ll never get tired of that,” you smiled down at him.

“Of what?” He asked.

“The way you look at me.”

He smiled gently, the apples of his cheeks rising. His arms moved to hook around your legs as he repositioned you, spreading them slightly so he could place more soft kisses on your tender, warm skin.

“Danny,” you half-whined, feeling restless as he continued to litter your skin with tender kisses.

“I will,” he answered, predicting your thoughts. “It may be three A.M., but I’m perfectly fine with taking my time with you.” With that, he shut you up and you laid back tossing your hair around you as you watched him take charge below.

“Just relax,” he told you, adjusting himself between your legs one last time before unhooking one of his hands from around you to part your folds. You should have been embarrassed by the mess you’d already made. You should have fought to keep your legs closed so that he didn’t see how wet you were, but you didn’t. You lifted your head slightly to watch him, his eyes brightening with lust as he saw your open pussy for the first time. “Oh my God,” he murmured almost inaudibly, sliding his thumb into your slick, applying soft pressure to your skin as he touched you for the first time. You felt yourself humming softly, perhaps to break the slight awkwardness you felt, but you stopped as soon as he moved to your clit, pressing the meat of his thumb over the rise, puffing a soft chuckle through his nose in response to your body’s reaction. His fingers had to have been dripping from how turned on he’d made you, yet he made no mention of it. He was silent and focused as his fingers rubbed into you.

“Still good?” He asked you quietly, and you nodded down at him.

“More,” you huffed through a whisper, and you watched with great anticipation as he answered your request by ducking his head down, introducing the wet warmth of his tongue as he tasted you for the first time. You felt the gentle puffs of his breath against your thighs, adding to the heat against your skin. And there he was, all over you at once, his tongue lapping at your folds with learner’s curiosity as he traveled the expanse of your pussy, the flat of his tongue dragging along your most sensitive areas just once before moving elsewhere. “Fuck,” you murmured softly, bringing your hands to your breasts, squeezing them through the thin cotton of your tshirt. In response, Danny pressed his face firmly against you, the curvature of his nose pressing into your skin, igniting even more pleasure. Moments later, he began to shake his head back and forth, creating a feeling of undulation against your swollen clit. “Fuck me–oh my god, Danny,” you groaned, reaching down to take a fistful of his hair, pulling him against you and then away when you became overstimulated. Coming up for air with a heavy gasp, you caught a glimpse of his face in the low light of the room, pinkened with exertion and friction. “Come here,” you commanded breathlessly.

He rose from in between your legs and laid down on top of you, dropping one of his hands back down to your pussy as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips and tongue laced with your own taste. The kiss was fiery and passionate, his lips pressing and pulling at your own as you moaned in response to the movement of his fingers. His face was slick, both with your slick and his perspiration. You could feel his hardness against your belly, your core thumping with anticipation for what was to come.

“Let’s get this thing off of you,” he grinned, pulling away to tug at the hem of your shirt, lifting his body long enough to slip it off over your head and toss it in the room. He returned to your naked body, his hands smoothing over your breasts and erect nipples. As if he couldn’t resist, he lowered his head, lolling his tongue in loose, wet circles around each swollen bud, suckling and pulling on them. You lifted your hands to his bare shoulders, running your fingertips over the expanse of his back. His skin was so soft, yet his muscles so incredibly strong.

“Please,” you groaned louder, lifting his face with your hands. “Danny please,” you looked into his deep, chocolate eyes.

“Please what?” He had the nerve to tease, his breath wisping against your face. “Please what, Y/n?” He asked, his tone looping sugar-sweet into your ears.

“Please–fuck me,” you finally begged, telling him the words he wanted to hear. “I need you inside of me, now. I need you–” he placed his pointer finger against your lips.

“You won’t ever have to beg me to fuck you,” he murmured, pulling stray pieces of hair from your face and setting them to the side. In the darkness of the room, his features were cast in a natural blue hue, the sharp lines of his face exaggerated in the contrasting, dark shadows of the evening. He began to move, placing more kisses on each breast, down your sternum and belly before moving off of you. “Do you want to take these off?” Danny asked quietly, standing from the bed. As you sat up, you saw how obvious his erection had become through the crotch of his boxers.

“Do I turn you on, Danny?” You asked him, looking up from below. He didn’t respond, only gazed down at you with an intensity that needed no further explanation. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his underwear, you rolled them down slowly, taking notice of his prominent happy trail, which led lower and lower as you revealed more of him. Exhilaration rippled over your body as his skin grew paler, another sign of private vanity that you were becoming introduced to. Slowly, you pulled his boxers down, revealing inch by inch his length, springing free. You let his underwear drop to the ground and let him step out of them, kicking them to the side. Taking his cock in your hand, you felt his incredible warmth as you began to stroke it slowly. He heaved a relieved sigh, blood rushing downward as he swelled to full erectness.

“I’ve imagined this for so long,” he murmured. “But this is so much better,” he chuckled softly. You grinned up at him and began to move faster, stroking up and down along the length of his cock, enjoying when he tilted his hips forward in response, silently asking for more. He didn’t indulge, though. “Let me take care of you,” he said quietly, taking his cock in his own hand, backing away from you. “Lay down, sweetheart.”

You moved toward the end of the bed, resuming a similar position as before, and waited for him to take over. You felt the mattress depress gently as he crawled onto the bed, his hands lifting to spread your legs once more. Reaching up over your head, he grabbed a pillow. “Lift up,” he said gently, and when you did, he slid a pillow under your head.

“You’re literally perfect,” you chuckled. He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Far from it,” he admitted. “But I wanted this to be,” he finished. Somehow he always knew what to say that would send you further into arousal. He parted your legs again and walked on his knees as he positioned himself just in front of your heat. You looped one of your legs around him as he stroked himself firm once more before guiding his hips forward, pressing his pink tip against your pussy with his tumblr, sliding his length against your clit by rocking his hips slowly back and forth. His hardness felt incredible, stimulating your body to respond by lurching your hips upward in an effort to take more pleasure from him. He did this for a few more passes before pausing to collect your wetness on the tip of his cock. “Are you ready?” he asked in a quiet, sultry tone.

You nodded quickly, widening your legs. “Yes, Danny please.” Placing his right hand on the mattress at your side to ground himself, he used his dominant hand to guide himself into your entrance, pressing his hips forward to penetrate you for the first time. You gasped quietly, biting down on your bottom lip as your brows furrowed from the slight discomfort of adjusting to his girth. “Fuck,” he uttered, shaking the messy curls out of his face, pressing himself deeper inside of you. You squeezed your core muscles on him, beginning to enjoy the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you further.

“Come here,” you murmured, reaching for his arms to pull him down. His face had slackened, his features working through a variety of sensations. He moved lower, snaking his arms underneath you as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, rocking his hips back and forth as he slid deeper inside. His breath was heavy, expelling into your open mouth as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands reached for his shoulders, squeezing them before smoothing down his back. You pressed your fingertips into his skin, mimicking the rhythm he’d assumed before. Though the sensations felt wonderful, you needed him to go faster. “Faster,” you whispered. He looked down at you unblinking as he repositioned himself for a moment before quickening his pace, your breasts bouncing freely as your body popped off of his thighs. After a moment, he walked himself off of you and sat up, taking hold of your hips. With this angle, he’d have the leverage to give you exactly what you had asked for. Using your weight, he pulled your hips forward and popped himself forward, jutting his cock deep inside of you, causing a breathless moan to escape from your lips, your eyes rolling back involuntarily as your body ignited inside and out. “Oh my God,” you groaned deeply, taking hold of your breasts and squeezing them while he continued to buck himself into you, listening to the rhythmic clap of your thighs making contact over and over.

“Better than I could have ever,” he breathed, reaching up to wipe at his sweaty face, “ever imagined.” His smile was infectious, his gaze fully attentive and loving. You reached up to touch his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in the darkness. He tilted his head to kiss your palm, walking his hand down in between your thighs, fingering your clit. “Oh–shit!” you practically shouted, arching your back off of the bed, squeezing as tightly as you could on his cock. “Danny!”

His slammed himself into you in response to your moans, hot beads of sweat rolling down his face, nose and down his chest. “You’re perfect, Y/n,” he mewled, reaching forward to squeeze your breast. “Perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect fucking pussy,” he grunted, tweaking and pulling on your nipple as he slowed his thrust momentarily, backing himself almost all the way out of you before letting his weight send him back forward again, filling you up completely. “I feel you all around me, baby,” he said in a low, lustful tone. You responded by tensing around him once more, getting closer and closer to climax with each successive thrust.

“Danny, I’m getting close–” you told him, your voice rising higher and higher, heavy with exertion.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he responded. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. He pulled you upward and wrapped his arms around you so that you were now in his lap with your legs wrapped around him. “I want you to bounce,” he explained. “And I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he whispered into the curve of your ear. “Don’t be afraid to lose control. I’m here with you. We’re together, just like we should be.” His skin stuck to yours as you began to move. In any other circumstance you would have been miserable being this hot, but in this case, you welcomed it, wanting to be covered in Danny in any and every way imaginable. You wanted to be his in word and in action. As you worked on his cock, his hands moved to your ass, kneading and spreading it as he pulled you flush against his cock, his entire length buried deep inside of you. Disembodied moans and grunts escaped from your throat as your muscles trembled around him. You threw your hands around him, your fingertips combing through his dark ringlets, tugging at them, while your other hand moved along the expanse of his back, your fingers digging carelessly into his perfect skin.

He hissed in reaction, tilting his head downward to see if he could find the hickey he had left earlier in the evening. When he couldn’t find it in the darkness, he decided he didn’t care to leave only one. He sucked harshly into your skin, his teeth nipping and pulling as he fucked himself up into you, the room thickening with the entrancing odor of sex.

“Ah!” you yelped loudly, throwing your head upward. He took the narrow, well-timed moment to strike his cock into you as deep as he could. Before you could control yourself, a blast of white light fielded your vision, pulling you upright in a rigid stasis, your floor muscles tightening around him as firmly as you could. Your body quivered intensely as you seized for several silent, agonizing seconds. His arms pulled around you as he left himself anchored inside of you, his hips swinging slowly back and forth. His length pushed against the furthest boundary between ecstasy and agony, sending your hips whipping forward unconsciously. He was rock-hard inside of you, though you could hear him breathing erratically against you.

“Let go, Y/n. Let go completely,” he urged you, tilting your head to the side so he could kiss you. “I’m not afraid of messes,” he said casually. “We’ll handle it later in the shower,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. “So, let go.” You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting him slowly begin to fuck into you again. This time, he strokes were excruciatingly slow, unsheathing himself almost completely before sending himself forward. “Do it again. Cum with me,” he spoke after a few moments, his voice shifting into one of more urgency. “Let’s cum together.”

You nodded quickly. “Fuck me hard, Danny. Please.” Your whimpers filled the quiet room, and he obeyed immediately, lifting you up by your hips and slamming you back down on his cock as he used what little leverage he had to pop himself up into you.

“Squeeze,” he ordered, firmly slapping your ass. You moaned from the sharp pain, but sank further into ecstasy as you followed his command, tightening your core muscles around his length and resisted from letting go.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “That’s fucking perfect,” he grunted. “I’m so close,” he told you. You nodded and moved with him. But decided to change positions slightly, pushing on his chest.

“Lay back,” you told him, and he did, letting go of you. He laid back against the bed, and rested with his hands behind his head. Holding on to his sides, you moved to rest on your knees, undulating your hips against his, swiveling them and dragging yourself up and down against his length.

“Oh my fucking God,” he groaned, watching you as you worked on him, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation swelling in your core. You would have grinned down at him, but your body reserved all resources to focus on the frenzy that claimed your body.

“Danny,” you moaned his name, pressing down on his belly as you ground your hips against him.

“I know, baby,” he spoke. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. You lay on top of him, prepared to continue your movement, but he gave one last direction. “Squat on my cock, and lay your head on my shoulder.”

“I’m not that flexible,” you told him in the moment.

“Just trust me,” he said, moving his hands to your sides, bending your legs. You moved to appease his request, situating yourself into a squat, and then laid your upper body back down, resting your head on his shoulder. You knew that your thighs would burn as a consequence, but he felt so good that it was all worth it. Before you could question further, Danny used the spring of the mattress and his strong hands on your hips to drive his cock into you as quickly as possible, gaining more depth with the open space between himself and your opening. “Take it,” he grunted. “Take all of it.” His voice was clipped, heavy with exhaustion, and you knew he was close. Your inner thighs quivered from the proximity of the incoming orgasm.

Your jaw fell slack, opening as you began to let yourself finally lose control again. Danny’s face was streaked with perspiration as he began to lapse in momentum. “I’m close–” he blurted after a few moments. “I’m gonna cum,” he said again, increasing his pace. You squeezed and squeezed harder, unsure if you were going to be able to reach orgasm again. In the last moment of insecurity, your body got you there, sending heat exploding through your body. “I’m gonna–” he repeated again and again like a vigil before finally, himself, letting go, moaning loudly and hissing through his teeth as the same agonizing pleasure ripped through his own body. You lowered yourself to him as your core exploded, and pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he pumped his hot seed into you, his hot breath looping around your ears and down your neck as you tensed around him for the last few times.

You lay there with him, your chests heaving simultaneously. He kissed you deeply, his tongue folding softly with yours as he held you, still mounted inside of you. After a moment, you lifted your head to look at him, and he did the same. You couldn’t help the grin that grew at the corners of your lips. A belly laugh escaped your mouth as you laid back down beside him.

“What?” He asked with a smirk, rolling on his side.

“That was fucking incredible,” you admitted. “I never realized that when people talked about witching hour, they meant this…” you grinned, plopping against the pillows.

“Witching hour doesn’t exist. Those moans everyone talks about? Those aren’t witches. They’re people fucking,” Danny grinned, his white teeth glowing in the darkness.

“Agh, shut up!” You laughed, reaching for a pillow and slamming it into him.

“I’m just telling the truth!” he teased, stealing the pillow.

Stepping off of the bed, he reached his hand downward silently toward you. You looked at it then back up at him.

“What?” You asked.

“Let me take care of you. Properly,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “You deserve to go to bed squeaky clean and comfy.”

You smiled, reaching to take his hand, except you pulled him back down to bed. “No,” you answered decisively. “I don’t want to wash you off,” you admitted, looking him in the eye. “I want to feel like this, to smell like you, to be full of you,” you told him. “So come to bed.”

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling before he finally answered. “Gladly.”

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poorsadorphanposting · 6 months ago

Text

Comfort Through Another Sleepless Night

[[I haven't been super active, but I wrote a little thing about the twins and thought I'd post it here, because it's Them! I guess this is canon to the tumblr-verse in particular, now?]]

[[[Warnings: Sibling incest, somnophilia, self harm reference, plushie-fucking, Edin being a gross little misogynistic unreliable narrator freak instead of sleeping. Everyone hit them with bricks and call them names.]]]

Edin wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here.

Well. Obviously, physically getting here was a simple matter. While their sister slept soundly, Edin found themself incapable of doing the same. Her bed was just across the room from their own, so physically getting there was very simple indeed. But briefly as they’d made their way over, Edin wondered if there was a good reason why Bailey had been so reluctant to allow the two of them to share a room, aside from simply not trusting them not to conspire if Esmee was to be believed. A thought they quickly shook out of their head, of course. They weren’t doing anything bad - and they doubted he gave a damn, even if they were…

Right. They weren’t doing anything bad.

As they stood over their sister’s bed, the soft, fluffy form of a plush rabbit held tightly in their arms, they stared down at her features. The slight twitches of her closed eyes, her parted lips as she drooled onto her pillow… It was strangely sweet, rare as it was to see her so peaceful. So… Well. Not violently on edge or quite so on the verge of an act of violence. Edin themself didn’t quite notice that they were biting their lip as they smiled at the sight, even as they leaned down and reached toward her chin, wiping the sticky line of saliva away from her face, leaving the soft skin nice and clean. Someone had to look after her.

Although, now their thumb was wet, which really was less than ideal.

As they stared at their newly slick and sticky thumb, Edin swallowed a lump in their throat, murmuring a soft “Ew…” as their face heated up. For a moment, they considered wiping the wetness off onto their sleeve, idly pressing their index finger into the cold wetness - only to pull it away, watching the fluid stretch. No… They’d done their laundry so recently. They didn’t want to get anything weird on their pajama shirt already.

By now their cheeks felt blazing hot. As a caught breath fell abruptly out of their mouth, they stared at their own hand with wide eyes, before parting their own lips, allowing their tongue to poke out. It was the same as their own saliva, really. It was appropriate to put it back where it belonged.

A strange, involuntary noise came out of their mouth as the side of their thumb met the flat of their tongue, striking a sudden feeling of dread into the pit of their stomach. A feeling that they couldn’t bear to be caught like this. Even if they weren’t doing anything bad. With grit teeth, they gently perched themself on the side of Esmee’s bed, gingerly lapping at their thumb with the very tip of their tongue, before they stopped - half in a daze and yet still frowning as they noted her body, covered only by a t-shirt and her underwear. Lacking the protection of a blanket. Of course, she’d been exhausted by the time she made it back to the orphanage after what must have been a difficult night at her mystery job, flopping down onto the bed without caring to get under the covers. The thought of it and what she might be doing out there gnawed at them, like unpleasant itching in the back of their head. The kind of itching where you scratch and scratch at a patch of skin that doesn’t feel quite right until it begins to bleed. And bleed. And bleed. But right now, with her older twin, she was safe.

The matter of how they’d gotten here was a simple one, perched on the side of their sister’s bed, their tired eyes softly cast down onto her as she slept, peculiar, gentle and calm. There wasn’t any question at all how they’d wound up gazing at that rare tranquil expression and wondering what she dreamed about. Or of how they felt a pang of melancholy, remembering when they would hardly need to wonder.

What Edin was less sure of though was how their hand had made it onto the cool surface of her bare thigh. Really, they hardly even noticed until it was already there, gently stroking the smoothness of her battered skin. It did feel sort of nice, odd as that may be. They were less sure of how their fingertips wound up grazing against the raised surfaces of healed cuts on their twin’s inner thighs, perhaps curiously wandering about her skin in a manner detached from the brain’s will, entirely of their own volition. As they registered what those cuts were though, a heavy, almost crushing feeling loomed overhead, threatening to come down upon them. Instead, they simply took a trembling breath and leaned down, pressing the most chaste of kisses against her leg and feeling the slight bump of what had happened there with lips chapped from anxious picking - kissing her injuries better, like they had back when the two were children, as if the scars were a grazed knee. Of course, with her asleep like this and unaware of anything they were doing it would make her feel no better, but it was merely some sort of sentimental force of habit. It felt right.

Somehow, her thigh felt even cooler against their cheek.

Another thing Edin wasn’t sure of was when the plush rabbit they’d been holding wound up perched between her legs. It had been a long couple of sleepless nights and at times, it became hard to keep up with these things. It wasn’t unusual for them to suddenly realise things had happened. But if they had to guess, Edin would say the rabbit was there now because they’d dropped him on accident while they were leaned over, tending to their sister’s injuries. Or perhaps they’d hastily put him down there after catching a glimpse of the crotch seam on Esmee’s shorts. Not something they wanted to be looking at, particularly not with their mind lingering on the grim discoveries of their rogue fingertips. Even if she were not their sister, it would be an unnerving combination and they were sure she’d agree.

Or perhaps she’d just make a disgusting joke about ‘gashes.’

The rabbit though, was cute. It was almost like her legs were hugging it, Edin suddenly thought. A thought that made them chuckle breathlessly. It seemed like something Esmee would do, if she were still into stuffed toys.

Moving more fully onto the bed, Edin got up onto their knees, getting a better look at the amusing scene. Truly, it did look like something she’d do on her own. It was very cute… At this stage, it felt as though their head had gone blank once again, fuzzy and riddled with sleeplessness. In a moment or so, they were on all fours, hovering over Esmee, their own face mere centimeters from her own suddenly as they processed the feeling of breath against her face. She always did this… Finding ways for the two of them to end up like this. Embarrassed, as they ought to be, Edin of course looked away, their position slipping slightly, fumbling at the awkwardness of it.

And so, here they were.

On all fours, over their sleeping twin sister and with a knee between her thighs pressing a plush rabbit against the parts she kept secret from them. Edin really, really wasn’t sure of how they’d gotten here, no matter how they tried to go over it in their head. They knew it was strange, they weren’t about to deny anything. Their jackhammer heart and fluttering stomach told them in no uncertain terms that this position was strange.

Avoiding her face, Edin’s gaze would remain fixed on the rabbit’s, poking out between her thighs and their own knee. This was a safe place to look and so look unfalteringly, they did. It was a safe place to look. At least until they caught Esmee’s hips shifting, rolling against the plush toy’s. Against, by extension, them… They couldn’t breathe, the sight was so strange, so sickening. They couldn’t even blink, simply staring down with eyes blown wide open, face burning in mortification as they drank in the awful display of what this town had done to their once innocent sister’s head. It was like watching a car crash, they simply couldn’t look away. As her breath quickened, they couldn’t look away.

“Stop that,” they mumbled in a choked stammer, pushing their knee forward to offer some form of resistance. It was all they could do at this point. They felt light headed. Even in her damned sleep, her obscene, parted lips seared themselves into their head. It was shocking what this town had turned her into.

Finally, they made a desperate gasp for breath, fearing at this rate they may faint. They couldn’t afford that, they’d wind up right on top of her then. Gritting their teeth they would push their knee into her again, a little more forcefully this time and press their shockingly cold palm against their own cheek. A small vengeance for the vile feelings Esmee had planted in them tonight. She seemed to like that, judging by the half-present, sleepy noise she made. Of course.

That done, they snatched the rabbit up and stiffly walked back to their own bed, hiding under the covers and burying their face into the now considerably warmer rabbit in search of the comfort that would get them through another sleepless night.

#Who's posting our daily lives to Tumblr.com!? ((3rd Person RP))

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months ago

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If you could only keep five of your fics that you’ve written what would they be and why??

(Also a massive thank you for what you do, going through a really difficult time personally and your wonderful stories always cheer me up. Escapism and TSwift is the best kind of medicine. One very grateful anon over here 🫶🏼)

oooo that is SUCH an interesting question!!

I think:

Stained Glass Windows for sure because it's had a lot of love poured into it!

Whatever Tomorrow Brings because it was my first fic that really took off. That universe is still a real favourite of mine, and I often have to stop myself from returning to it!!

Love You in the Dark is my favourite AU that wrote. There is something about it that is just so beautifully heartbreaking, and I think if I were to turn any of my fics into an actual book it would be this one.

Maximum Gain because it's a Minimal Loss AU and I LOVE writing fics for that episode

Secrets because I really really enjoyed writing it!

And thank you so much, I am so pleased my fics help in some way! Speaking of Miss Swift, I will be writing the Hotchniss taking their girls to the era's tour fic this week to try and cure my post Era's Tour depression haha.

Tonight though, I'll be posting another oneshot in the I Knew You Lingered Like A Tattoo Kiss, and I'll put a snippet below the cut for you <3

(pregnancy mentioned in the snippet and the chapter)

He smiles at the sound of Emily’s humming, the nameless tune only slightly muffled by the closed bathroom door, and he steps towards the closet with the aim of picking out what to wear that evening but he’s stopped in his tracks by the sound of a pained yelp replacing the humming followed by a loud curse.

“Fuck.”

He’s moving before he can think about it, bursting through the bathroom door, entirely prepared to find his wife in labour, “Em, is it time…” he trails off at the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bath, one of her feet propped up next to her. She’s wearing one of her maternity bras and he can see a flash of her matching underwear, the majority of it hidden by her bump. His eyes drop to her hand, her razor glinting in the bathroom light, and the small smear of blood on her ankle.

“Damn it,” she grumbles, not looking up at him, “I can’t get a good angle on this,” she huffs, her bangs briefly flying upwards, pushed around by her irritation, “She’s in the way.”

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss

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orleans-jester · 11 months ago

Text

Figaro was an eager audience to Willem’s practice of his new abilities. They thought it was damn cool every single time - and did have to once or twice distract Punch from trying to attack this tiny thing with an actual sharp blade. Got a cut right on the achilles tendon for that, so Willem better be grateful, but still. It was going to take a while to get over how damn cool it was that Willem could do multiple things now. Number one fan over here.

“You know who the right man to ask that question to is?” Figaro snapped their fingers, definitely thinking about juggling chainsaws and washing machines and knowing full well they’d give whatever cash they had left to see such a thing. “Piper’s dad. The pegleg.”

They didn’t say this like it was a bad thing. They just picked up on some pirate terms, hanging around Willem for so long. It was almost said affectionately. Of course the best friend - other than Thomas - of Flotsam was going to be fucking rad. Of course Piper’s dads were the coolest people that had ever set foot in this town. And of course Figaro had seen Clopin juggle and instantly saw a new idol.

Clopin jumped up to number two on the Figaro Admiration Scale. Willem was still number one. Figaro felt proud in their decision of best friend, that’s for damn sure. So they bucked up and dressed up for the next part in the epic saga that was Pixie Hollow and Peter Pan. They weren’t going to make Willem go through any part of this alone, and keep all of the excitement to himself.

Just this time, they made sure to wear long underwear for the blizzard. And a latex monster mask because it could get awfully warm breathing in those things, and the overheating was needed.

The blizzard was always the worst bit. Made Figaro happy that they lived in Louisiana rather than like - what was a cold place? - Finland was weirdly the first one that came to mind. Yeah, fuck Finland. Good music, but cooooold.

Through to the port and - that familiar old ship was there. The familiar flag was waving in the wind, proudly showing who was inside of it. Fair play to the pixies, it didn’t look like a necessarily good omen, that leering skull, but Fig always thought that it was cool, and a feeling of adventure and excitement filled their own bones seeing it once again. What kind of weirdo didn’t love a pirate ship?

“So it begins,” Figaro said in a very adequate impersonation of King Theoden at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - one which would have made Thomas proud.

The snow was still falling heavily and it did make tracking difficult because it felt like their tracks were covered within an hour, but it did have the usefulness of making everything feel quieter. Like a hush was put over everything. So when they did hear Hook’s muttering, it felt clear. There was no background noise to overwhelm it.

It wasn’t surprising that Hook just willy nilly said the words that killed the pixies around him. It was probably the biggest flaw in their species. Someone just had to say a couple of words and boom, like they’ve been Bloody Mary’d or Candyman’d.

Once they were back up to normal size, Figaro took off the mask and ran their fingers through their hair and gave Hook a wave, two fingers against the forehead like a sort of salute. “‘ello el-Capatino!”

After all they’ve been through and Figaro was dollhouse person? “Aww, they used a correct pronoun,” They said, putting a hand over their heart, touched by that. Person was better than lady.

No corrections or anything here. Willem seemed to be sliding through this conversation by the seat of his pants, and Figaro was the lint in his back pocket, holding on for the ride, nodding whenever Willem made a point. But when Hook went on about ‘We’re big they’re small,’ they did snap their fingers and point at him and say, “Oh, someone watched Matilda.”

Into the belly of the tree. “There’s a reason why dogs pee on trees,” They informed their company. “They sense the mysterious power and try to claim it as their own.”

And now it was like snarky tennis. Head moving back and forth as the spunky pirate fairy and Hook exchanged words. Insults. Their nose also wrinkled at the sex reference, and their hand went for their own weapon, which was tucked into a holster , just sticking out of their blizzard warmth. They couldn’t bring a chainsaw because carrying that through all of that damn snow would have been a nightmare, but they did have a Michael Myers style knife that they stole while looting a sushi restaurant while looking for the secret of getting perfectly sticky rice. Ready to stabbity stab stab if needed. One of the few times they’d accept being called a girl was if they were going to be the Final Girl in this fantasy horror movie they were filming in their mind.

But lil Nelly seemed to think that Willem had it covered, tapping on their shoulder like that, pointing to a glow. Now how was Figaro supposed to resist that lure? Damn, they really wouldn’t make a good final girl in that shitty but amazing IT Chapter 2, Fig would look straight into the Deadlights, with the way that they walked with Nell towards that mysterious glow.

Terrence. Little itty bitty Terrence.

“If you’re thinking of running, that train has sailed dude,” Figaro clicked their tongue, and together with Nell, they pounced like the cryptid and pixie doll they were.

With a hiya and a thwack and a pow - the two managed to get the bottle from Terrence. It wasn’t that hard, really. It was pretty damn easy. Figaro didn’t even use their knife, just held it in their mouth between their teeth like they had seen some of Hook’s men do. Caused a few annoying cuts in the corners of the mouth but that was the price that was paid for looking so badass.

“Oh, oh, I want to!” Figaro said, after seeing Hook’s scowl. There was just something funny about that expression. Then they held up the sacred dust, and imitating their favorite little angry doll, “That’s the way to do it!”

Zarina was heading this debate with passion. James couldn’t help but be all the more amused. His long game had really come to fruition after all? His son who kidnapped him in a magic door not so very long ago actually gave him Pixie Hollow after all those icky heart to hearts? He’d gotten through to the boy after all? He hadn’t been so sure when he stayed in Funkytown to play with toys and the puppet maker instead of coming back aboard the Jolly Roger. Hook had been biding his time, making due, setting course for new adventures. He was even trying to make sure Madam Medusa was cared for and all set up in New Zealand before he opened his sails wide to new seas.

The Neverseas were where his heart beat from. He could never deny it. It leapt out of his chest the moment Delta called on his dishonorable name. He felt his scurvy reputation rise in the call of this need. To say he hadn’t had the best year was putting it lightly. Bootstraps were tight and buckles were shined, hook firmly in place, sharpened, and he had every filthy scallywag in tow.

Hook was still after the blue dust. He thought he came to ambush his prize.

Then when he heard what the awful betrayal was his son had done come out of the queen’s own mouth it dawned on him for the first time why it was winter.

“I can’t believe he stole Pan from us in that weak state. He pretended to be our friend. We’re too weak for this. Winter all around. We have to get to the Winter Fairies right away. They’re the only ones strong enough to help us through this.”

“It’s in his blood. We should have known. I told you not to trust him. Dustry Maroon and Hook’s son. He wasn’t even a Trojan Horse. He was a straight up napalm bomb you let walk in and served up acorn tea!”

Oh, Hook with grinning with delight with every word he heard. Stole Pan? Weak state? My, my, my indeed. Blue dust was just beginning. Did his son really set up Pan for slaughter just for him? Waiting on him? What a gift his son was!

Yeah, that wasn’t exactly his son’s plan, but Hook didn’t know that yet. So, he was riding a high like he was heading towards Christmas singing It’s Mah Birthday in his head.

Decisions decisions.

Blue dust first or go find his son and Pan?

Willem was sneaking up around now with Figaro and Nelly searching for tracks of his father or any sign that they’d left the ship. It was hard to track when snow kept falling and covering up any traces neary as quick as they could be left behind.

That’s when he heard the fatal words whisper like heat that didn’t belong in this air, unnatural. “I don’t believe in fairies.”

“Fuck.” It made Willem shiver in a way it never had before. He turned his head and saw his father flick away a dead pixie off the top of guard tower branch before he could get away and warn the others.

“There he is. Dad. Shhh. Don’t say that.”

But, his voice only came out in bells while he was so tiny. Hook’s head zipped around trying to find where the new bell sound was coming from.

“Dad. Dad. It’s me. It’s us. Me and Smalls.”

But, as soon as he realized his father couldn’t understand him he knew it was going to be useless, so he Antmanned them back to human sized directly beside him trying to stay inconspicuous not wanting to be seen by more pixies.

Except… he did? He almost said it again but then-

“Will? Wild Will is that you?” He was whispering and squinting.

Of course James could translate bell fairy language. He’d been with Zarina and Tinker Bell for years. It never dawned on Willem quite like that.

“Oh, you have that dollhouse person with you. Hello again. You-you-you were small.” James tipped his hat and then went back to twisting the edge of stach as he was thinking. “Glad you’re here, boy. We can get the blue dust together. You and me. You really have Pan?”

Willem nodded his head, “Yes, we really have Pan.” No details added about that. He also hadn’t meant to let his father know he had more powers. Oops again. Willem’s plans didn’t always hatch the way he pictured them, but he was still sure it’d work out just fine. Faith and trust. He was holding onto that.

“I made a fairy dust tree before. I can do it again.”

“So, I’ve heard.” He wasn’t going to get technical on his father in the fact that Zarina actually did it. Now really wasn’t the time. If his father thought he could do it on his own now, more power to him. Whatever got him to re-start a war with Pan - wake that flying boy up.

This was already not going quite how he saw his original plan, but he and Figaro did say they’d wing it. It’s what they do. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get Periwinkle to trust him later must less the rest of the pixies when it was time to turn on Hook if he helped his father steal the Blue Dust now, but he didn’t see getting out of this either. They were going in in a blaze of glory and stealing from the Hollow Tree as a team with Hook, Nelly, and Figaro. Yeah. Right now that was the plan. For now.

“Well now’s the time.” Willem said. “If I know those pixies at all and they’re all at all meeting, only Terrance is gaurding that tree.”

Hook snorted. “I’m not worried. We’re big. They’re small and can weak in this weather. We can walk right up and step over them and they’ll be able to do nothing about it.”

Willem wasn’t so sure about nothing. They had powers even if they couldn’t fly as well, but Hook did have a point. It started to make far more sense now why Willem got away with Pan’s glass coffin so easily when the others could hardly fly or at least struggled far more than he in this cold. He had quite the advantage if his theory was correct.

It was almost that easy too. Almost. When they walked into the Hollow Tree it wasn’t Terrance waiting for them. She left the meeting.

“I had a feeling you’d try something like this.”

The pirate fairy, Zarina, Nutmeg’s mother drew a sword. Willem couldn’t help but notice that after all these years she still kept the fashion sense even after James’ betrayal.

Hook would snigger. “Thanks for bottling it all up for me… again.” He was taunting her already. Old jabs of the past would sting.

“That was to get it away from you. Not give it to you, you ol’ fleabag.”

“I remember well you nestled up with this ol’ fleabag and purred.”

Nutmeg gave herself away in that moment with an, “Ew” sound as she couldn’t help herself from getting squicked out a the thought of them together even while she was hiding waiting to ambush. This caused Willem to turn and point his knife in her direction.

Nutmeg raised her own. “Don’t think about it.”

While this stand off was happening between tiny persons and large persons there was Nelly who wasn’t a real fairy at all and the snow didn’t affect her in quite the same way either. Her magic came from the puppet master, the toy maker, and mix in a little pixie dust on top. She didn’t care at all about all these squabbles. She had a way of always keeping her eyes open. She noticed a glow coming from another direction. She tapped Figaro on the shoulder. She silently waved for her to come that way and they’d sneak off while Hook boys had their show down.

Low and behold there was Terrance in a small nook outside the tree holding another vial for dear life. He was the dust keeper. Nelly wasn’t sure if he had all of the dust or if it got split or the boys were about to fight over a fake, and she wasn’t even sure if it was best to let Hook capture the fake or not, but she wasn’t letting Willem get screwed. If he said he wanted to get the blue dust. She was getting him the blue dust. She looked over at Figaro and the terrified boy clutching his sacred dust. It was a ‘Let’s get him’ look if there ever was one.

This is when Figaro and Nelly would have their highjacking moment.

…

While Nelly took inspiration from the sock monkey and went straight for his face with his webbed feet like a suckerface alien the battle inside the tree would begin too. Even though there was magic involved eventually Willem and Hook would tromp away leaving their human sized footprints in the snow with their spoils.

Proving what Hook and Will were getting away with was a plant was that the mother/daughter pair went running to check on Terrance behind the tree instead of chasing after them. Of course after Nelly and Figaro got done with him what they’d find was hardly how they left them. He also empty handed of the coveted dust.

By this time Hook and Willem would be catching up to Nelly and Figaro who long left the area for safer grounds closer to the port of ship. Hook and Will would be bounding up all proud of themselves until Hook wanted to see his bounty and tried to pour a little of the dust out into the palm of his hand. It was just a blue jar. There was nothing blue in it. Sand filtered out. Hook’s face scowled quickly and he crushed the jar in his fist.

“Foiled.” He threw it off to the side.

Nelly looked over at Figaro. “You want to show 'em or should I?”

Willem tilted his head. “Show us what?”

#FigaroxWillem #FigaroxHook #FigaroxNelly

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anantaru · 2 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐍𝐍

୨୧ how long they last during no nut november feat. childe : ayato : kazuha : cyno : kaveh : diluc : al-haitham : scaramouche x fem! reader

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

the first time you suggested to him to participate in it, childe blatantly refused, he was very much aware that there wasn't a chance for him to win in the slightest. Yet after giving it some thoughts he decided to give it a try, he's never running away from a fight and this in particular, was a fight on its own. It wasn't until the first day hit him, when he saw you. You had just woken up, the sleep still visible in your eyes as you greeted him lovingly.

who thought it was a good idea for him to sleep next to you? not to mention that you were wearing nothing more than your underwear, those tiny panties hugging your figure perfectly. "what is it?", you murmured softly towards his direction, a small smirk prancing over the corners of your lips. "fuck it." ajax was sexual excited in an instant, even though his brain told him to back off he just couldn't as he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your body before kissing you starvingly.

he didn't waste any time to slide his cold fingers past the elastic of your panties, dragging his digits over your folds. You gasped out, questioning the man in front of you if he perhaps forgot that he was actually planning to pull through that annoying little competition of yours, "this is torture, please don't make me do this again." he whined out in between kisses, his fingers working in tandem as you let out a breathy laugh, hugging him back into your embrace.

𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

ayato wasn't sure why you would possibly think he'd actually fail the little competition you had prepared for him. He was busy all day, barely able to see you during the day and surely at night time he'd be too tired for anything more than a few cuddles anyways. What for some reason, he did not take into his calculations, was the sudden rush of frustration prickling through his veins like an electric current, he was powerless against it, couldn't turn those feelings off either.

he slid under the soft blankets after showering, his muscles sore from being at work all day while his hair was slightly damp, sticking on his forehead. You waited for him, as always, his arm wrapping around your waist as he laid his head in the nook of your neck, taking in your scent. Ayato started to get nervous whenever you'd shift in the bed, you weren‘t facing him as you talked about the various things you did today with the plush of your ass brushing over his member.

he closed his eyes, cursing himself underneath his breath, trying to not give into the sensation that was building in his gut right now as he added more strength to the grip on your hips, fingernails digging into your soft skin. His stomach was tightening, blood rushing through his veins when you noticed something rather hard poke at your ass, "are you?" you questioned in a low tone, yet it was immediately noticeable how hilarious you found the situation. Ayato groaned as a response before humming into your neck, the vibration traveling from your ear to your body, leaving a soft trail of kisses before sinking his teeth down, "i don't think i can do this all month."

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

kazuha's love language was always physical touch, it didn't necessarily had to be sexual, most of the times it was him holding your hand in his or simply lazily looping his arm around your shoulder to keep you close. Of course, he figured, it wouldn't be a problem for him to still do those things, but damn, you made it so incredibly difficult. Your eyes wandered over his face, a light curve in your lips as you shuffled in your seat to sit more comfortably.

his thoughts were scattering to sinful desires upon seeing your dress slightly draped up your hips, exposing just a bit of your panties to him. Kazuha swallowed thickly, his heart thumping in his chest as you noticed the way he'd nervously chew on his cheeks, face flushed a faint layer of redness. "oh, sorry." you giggled, pulling down your dress as he took another deep breath before reaching his hand over to you. The expression on your face was confused, tilting your head a little before standing up regardless, walking towards him to take his hand in yours.

your chest heaved as he abruptly, drew you on his lap, caging you in with his hands. "you did that on purpose." he whispered, low and heavy as you shook your head, yet your smile made it more than obvious that you were not saying the whole truth. Your eyes widened as kazuha bucked his hand under your dress, cupping your heat, "i thought we said we'd never lie to each other?" his chuckle formed into a purr, voice breathier than you knew it, his fingers scraping over the spongy flesh to stimulate you, "even if i lost, i count it as a victory."

𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎

"i was so close." cyno muttered, his warm breath hovering over your wet core before your muscles tensed, digging your heels into the bed to slightly lift your hips up to him. Your body jolted forward into his mouth, cyno was devouring you, flicking his tongue over your folds to finally taste you again. It has barely been two weeks, yet it was so incredibly stressful, his body getting off from merely your voice, all form of self control turned into nothing.

"you did a good job." you chuckled, biting and chewing on your lower lip to muffle a moan as he continued to map it out, leaving nothing unturned with his tongue. you could sense a little sting of his sharp teeth grazing over the pulsating flesh, his brows furrowing in concentration when he circled his arms around your hips to have a tight grip on you. Cyno truly couldn't take his eyes off you, your folds glistering as he began to suck on them, humming in pleasure when his spit melted with your essence.

sweat was beautifying your skin, your mouth hanging open with every moan falling to deaf ears. Cyno fluttered his eyes open to look at the sinful expression on your face, his cock throbbing in his pants, waiting to be finally freed by you. It was painful to him, the last time he actually had an orgasm was weeks ago, involuntarily humping the mattress underneath him as every nerve in him felt like on fire, catching his breath before grinding his tongue into your cunt again.

𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

"fuck." kaveh cursed out in between making out with you, "i was so close baby, i really was." he complained, digging his fingernails into your hips while rutting himself into your heat. "but it got so unbearable, you don't even know half of it." you couldn't help it but laugh at his words, he was so overdramatic, wrapping your arms around his neck before slightly repositioning your hips. You bended your knees a bit more so he could reach further into you, your legs spread open.

kaveh sank into your hole, his cock twitching against your walls when he dropped his hips into your warmth. "that's so much better, don't you think?" he questioned with the answer clearly displayed on your expression that showed nothing but pleasure. You sighed out, lowering your eyes as you watched him through your lashes, his pace becoming even with shallow breaths tickling your neck.

kaveh felt how you clenched down around his girth, how you whined at every thrust forward as he looked in between your bodies, quickly licking his thumb before placing it on your clit to swipe it over the sensitive nerves. Your body jolted forward, tossing your head into the pillow as you cried out his name in fast chants, your legs shivering around his body. Your noises turned into cries, melting and unraveling underneath him as his grip on you tightened, not giving a single fuck anymore that he lost the small competition between the both of you.

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

by the end of the month, you're going to be a whiny little mess while diluc will simply sit next to you, bright smile, with a triumphal expression painted on his face. If he's determined to do something, he will push through it until its done, there was no losing in his eyes, only victory to be claimed. Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend had a sense of humor, even though he didn't show it often he wouldn't pass on an opportunity to joke about it to you in a lighthearted manner.

he had you spread on the bed by the end, his breath hot on your shoulder as he licked all the way down to your collarbone, biting down. "how did i do?" he asked cheekily, flashing you his canine teeth with a smile, your lips pouting as you whined out, the words dying in your throat. Diluc hummed, moving closer to your ear while spreading your legs so he'd rest in between them.

"i'll give you what you want now." he promised, rolling the words off slowly as he slid himself in, your cunt sweet and tight taking him all in. You arched your spine into his body, tossing your head to the side when you moaned his name prettily. You weren't able to understand how diluc seemed to have gotten through this month without a slip up, his determination was otherworldly as he decided for a slow but deep pace, your mind empty as your body grew hotter, warmer with a prickling sensation dashing through your veins.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

"you did so well." you cooed into al-haitham's ear, pecking his rosy cheeks before kissing his lips, muffling the tiny groans that escaped his throat. Your hand caressed his soft, pale skin, trailing your fingers over the aching muscles of his chest all the way down to his stomach. Al-haitham slid his hand into his hair to smooth it back, watching you work on his belt to free his cock from its restraints.

his eyes met yours in full force, "i told you I'd pull through." he proudly stated his victory, before his breath hitched, getting stuck in his throat. your hand was wrapped around his shaft, his pants pulled down to his knees as you didn't bother to fully getting rid of them. You spoke in low whispers, sweet chants only for him to hear as you circled your wrist around his shaft, fisting his stiff cock.

playful rubbing turned into skilled stroking, his hips bucking into your hand each and every time. "fuck, i missed that." he admitted bluntly without a care in the world, the curve in his lips evident as his breath came out in fastened spurts with a sigh of relief accompanying them. The sweet tenderness of your hold on him was to die for, his muscles turning tense as he moaned out, gasping frantically as he came, the warm white ropes of cum running down your knuckles. His his hips stuttered, continuing to buck into you when convulsed in great pleasure.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

there's no way in hell he would've ever lost, not in a million years, scaramouche was pulling through that rough month with a determination you've never seen before. "you didn't think I'd actually win, admit it." his smirk was wide, his voice hoarse with a sprinkle of lust in it. He was watching your every move, a wry smile on his face with an amused twinkle in his eyes, the way you squirmed underneath him was making him lick his lips in anticipation.

"don't worry, i won't tease you tonight." your face was clouded in confused upon hearing him speak his words, not buying it, "i can be nice too, you know." scaramouche spread his fingers to brush them over your belly, feeling your skin underneath his pads. His eyelids fluttered low before pressing himself on top of you with one of his hands right above your head— so you wouldn't hit your head on the headboard. You bent your knees, spreading your legs wider so he'd be able to thrust his hips better into you, his tip already prodding on your little hole.

the stretch was painful at first, you missed that feeling and so did he, truth was, scaramouche simply couldn't tease you tonight, it had nothing to do with him being nice for once. He was more than riled up, frustrated and annoyed with the burn that would always occur in his legs and never fade away. Scaramouche placed his lower lips in between his teeth, his brows furrowing in concentration as he slid himself in until fully sheathed, splitting your cunt open and fuck, he dreamed about this every day, the overbearing sensitivity only adding into his play.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

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suna-cerely-yours · 2 years ago

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MESSY ft. atsumu, osamu, rintaro

warnings: fem!reader, 18+, mdni, threesome, oral sex (f!recieving), dubious consent, implied nonconsensual filming

a/n: no, there will not be a part 2. i don’t know what happened here.

“c’mon, we have to raise the stakes a little, you take off an article of clothing for every question you get wrong!”

“i would totally be down for that,” suna leers from a nearby couch, craning his head to look over his laptop.

“atsumu, i asked you to quiz me on this, not to play strip poker.”

“yeah atsumu, don’t be a perv.”

“shut up ‘samu, i’m lookin’ out for her grades,” atsumu turns back to you, eyes widen in faux innocence. “unless you’re that unconfident and haven’t studied, then i guess i can understand why you wouldn’ wanna.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes at his thinly veiled attempt at riling you up. too bad it was actually working.

“fine, for every question i get wrong, i’ll take off an article of clothing,” you squint at atsumu, “ happy?”

“very, doll.”

“what happens if she runs out of clothing to take off?” suna chimes in, running his eyes over your sundress clad torso. “it’s only, what? three questions? dress, bra, and underwear.”

“two actually, i’m not wearing a bra rin.”

“damn, you must be really confident,” osamu stretches his arms above his head, peering to look up at the couch you and atsumu were situated on, “ but what happens if you run out?”

“ i won’t run out, but if i hypothetically do, then i guess atsumu can decide what to do.”

you run out of clothing.

two strategically difficult questions throw you for a loop, and now you have three sets of eyes boring on you, waiting for you to remove your dress- panties already discarded.

“god rin, at least pretend to do your work,” you throw the boy an exasperated glace as he shuts his laptop and leans forward, bracing himself on his knees, eyes trained on you. even osamu puts his pen down, resting his head on his palm.

gulping, you reach for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head in one motion. you feel your nipples harden as you tuck your arm over them, trying to preserve some sense of modesty.

“well? go on, haven’t you ever seen tits before? ask the next question.”

atsumu clears his throat, and continues, his voice an octave deeper.

and immediately throws you for another loop.

"that isn't on the syllabus."

"sure is doll, look it's highlighted an' everythin'," atsumu states, putting the textbook down.

"now for your punishment-"

"hold up, what?"

"you did say atsumu could decide what to do if you run out of clothing to take off," suna chimes in again, oh so unhelpfully.

you look back at atsumu, who's looking at you with his head slightly tilted, like you were a problem he couldn't figure out.

your throat feels dry and a lick of warmth curls low in your stomach, pussy clenching as you unconsciously rub your thighs together once.

atsumu's eyes immediately zero in on that movement as a slow grin unfurls on his face, eyes lighting up.

"touch yourself."

"what? atsumu you're not-"

"touch yourself for us. let us watch you cum."

osamu and suna have their full attention on you, and you think you see suna pull out his phone.

pressing your lips together, you slowly let the hand covering your breasts drop, parting your thighs. placing a hand on your thigh, you slowly rub circles on the soft skin, exhaling as you drop your head to rest on the back of the couch.

“atsumu- i, i don’t know about this-”

“no? but your pretty pussy sure does,” he retorts, reaching over to spread your folds slightly, tapping his middle finger on your clit.

you react instantaneously, gasping as your thighs close around atsumu’s wrist, pressing his hand firmly against your core.

“don’t go all shy on us now princess,” osamu grins, gripping, spreading and situating himself in between your thighs, hooking your knees on his broad shoulders.

you feel a hand clasp around your throat, titling your head back even more, before that same hand slides up your throat, pushing two ringed fingers past your lips, forcing them to part.

“you look so cute stuffed with only two fingers, bet you’d look cuter stuffed with my cock,” suna coos from above you, other hand holding his phone.

you whine, sliding the hand on your thigh to your breast, pinching your nipple slightly.

“always knew you were a whore, babe.”

your muffled response breaks into a moan as atsumu’s fingers are replaced by osamu’s mouth, his tongue circling your clit.

suna’s fingers fuck your mouth as atsumu paws at your tits, guiding one of your hands to his bulge. you pull his cock out, doing your best to wrap your fingers around it, moaning when osamu slides a finger inside you, accompanied with his sloppy licking.

you’re close, so close, when the sudden opening of the door startles all of you, your eyes flying open as suna’s hand slides back down to your throat.

kita stares at the four of you impassively, eyebrows raised.

he stares a moment longer before directing his gaze at atsumu, “she likes it messy, make sure you don’t ruin the couch.”

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neiptune · 3 years ago

Text

little arguments

ft: eren, armin, connie, jean

warnings: cursing

Where there's love, there's annoyance

Eren

Loving Eren is not easy, it isn't the hardest thing you've done in your life either. When he asked you to move in with him, you felt genuine happiness, healthy excitement as he helped you carry every box for hours on end, giddy amusement when he took your face in his hands, kissed you and smiled brightly after parking your suitcase in his living room, emerald eyes shining with pure joy as he proudly announced there's a jug of fresh homemade lemonade in the fridge, help yourself roomie.

Loving Eren mostly means eating breakfast in bed when it's gloomy outside, carefully picking which movie to watch on your couch while he's attempting and usually failing at cooking hamburgers, dragging him to museum dates cause you allow him to drag you to his football matches, enjoying his genuine interactions with your friends, showering together at night, having his hands draw lazy shapes on your skin while he's too tired to even keep his eyes open.

But loving Eren becomes difficult quite easily, for the silliest reasons. He always leaves the toilet seat up and claims that it's not really a big deal, he absolutely refuses to turn the light off as he's leaving a room cause I'm gonna be back in like five minutes, puts the basically empty carton of milk back in the fridge cause he's simply too lazy to thow it in the trash. But the thing you two argue about the most, is his messiness.

Now, you're probably even messier. It's fine, no problem in admitting that. However, at least you have the decency to be honest about it and, most importantly, not criticize his ass. A courtesy he simply doesn't reciprocate.

“Babe”, he casually says, condescension dripping like honey from his tone. So much that you have to brace yourself, take a deep breath in.

“Can you pick up your socks from the floor at your earliest convenience? No rush, I just accidentally stepped on them. Cause, like, they're on the floor”.

Can you pick up deez nuts?

“Of course, babe. Hey, is that one of your beer bottles from last night right there, next to my books? And remember when I found one of your boxers hanging from that chair, in the kitchen, last week?”, you don't even look up from the magazine you're reading, casually flipping through it as he snorts.

“You didn't seem to mind my boxers being off in the kitchen when I–”

“Do not finish that sentence”.

“Bent you over the counter”.

Grip on the magazine tightens ever so slightly.

“At least I collect my underwear, even after you throw it across the room. Any room”.

“Do you always have to do this? Not everything is a competition”, he grumbles.

“So you agree, it would be easier to just shut up about it”.

“Why would I shut up about something that clearly bothers me?”

“Because you don't get to be bothered by something you do as well”.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“The difference being I don't mind it when you tell me to pick something up”.

You finally look at him, incredulous.

“Yeah, you literally don't mind. Meaning you never end up actually doing it”.

“When's the last time you told me to do something and I overreacted like you're doing right now and every other time?”

Magazine's back on the coffee table in the blink of an eye.

“You're asking me when's the last time you overreacted?”, you ask, lips extended in an entertained smile.

“When you told me to do something”, he articulates the words slowly, not appreciating the implications of your amused question.

“Okay. Let's see. When I asked you to fold your clothes before putting them in the drawer. When I told you that you snore and maybe it's time to get your sleep apnea checked. Or was it when I requested that you paused your dumb game to help me clean the house cause your brother was coming over for dinner?”

“You know damn well you can't pause virtual game night”, he protests and you scoff.

“Do you and Jean actually believe that giving it a name makes it sound less stupid?”

Eren sighs, back pressed once again against the backrest of the couch.

Armin

“You're so annoying”, he childishly complains, bringing a triumphant smile to your face as you lean over to get your magazine again.

The keys rattle loudly as you let them fall in the small basket you keep on the cabinet in the entrance of your house. He's silent as he stands behind you, quietly observing how you take your heels off and just leave them there to proceed towards the bathroom, not even bothering to put your slippers on.

“Y/n?”, he softly calls.

Your stern gaze finds his apologetic one in the mirror and you squeeze the makeup remover wipe in your hand just a little tighter.

“I'm not mad at you”.

“You're partly mad at me".

Eyeliner and eyeshadow come off easily with a a few, gentle wipes of your hand.

“Yes”, you admit and Armin sighs deeply. He settles to patiently wait for you to remove your makeup, cleanse your face and finish your usual night routine. You find him sitting on your bed, the top three buttons of the clean shirt he had put on open, dark green tie he had carefully picked loosened around his neck.

“Can I stay the night?”, he asks hesitantly and you almost, almost break right then and there.

“You know you don't have to ask", and that's something that's never gonna change, no matter how upset you are. It's never enough to be away from him.

“I'm sorry”, Armin mutters slowly as you wearily sit on the bed next to him.

“Why didn't you tell me?”, the accusation in your tone is stronger than you expect but, truth is, you are mad. Terribly mad.

“They're your friends”, his explanation is so simple it makes your blood boil.

“They're some of my friends. And I don't care. You should've said something, you should've done something”.

“I didn't want to upset you, they don't have to necessarily like me, it's not a-”

“I swear to god if you're about to say that it's not a big deal-”

“But it really isn't, baby. I don't care”.

Oh, Armin.

“Well I care, 'Min. And what if they don't like you? Do they get to treat you like shit? What if your friends didn't like me, would you allow Eren to-”

“No”, his interruption is firm, void of hesitation, and your features can't help but soften.

“I know. And I also know you don't like conflict. But you have to stand up for yourself, I'm so sick of you seeing in everyone what you don't see in yourself”.

He shuffles nervously in his seat and you sit closer, close enough for your hands to cup his face and force his reluctant blue irises to focus on you.

“You should care, if people close to me don't like you. Cause I like you a lot and I wish you could make that clear to every asshole I happen to have went to college with”.

He smiles a little and you sweetly kiss his nose as his arm closes around you waist to pull you closer. He's warm, and solid, and smells so nice and is simply the best person you've ever met and you're so lucky to have him love you. It just breaks your heart, how little he values himself. Armin would kick your boss', your brother's, his own best friend's ass if he so much as sensed any hint of mistreat directed at you; he just doesn't bother as much for himself. And you're definitely done allowing that.

“I don't want you to fight with your friends because of me”, he murmurs in your hair and you scoff.

“They're not my friends anymore. No, shut up, you don't get to have a say in that. Either you realize how much of a wonderful person you are or I'm telling Eren next time something like this happens. He'll defend your honor”.

Armin's nose scrunches up in disapproval and you chuckle, kissing his jaw.

“So you think more of your friends don't like me?”, the badly concealed urgency in his voice makes you laugh.

“I'm pretty sure Claire has asked me if you have a twin brother a hundred times. Stella loves you. Lucas is planning to invite you to a basketball game with his other friends, sorry for ruining the surprise, and I'm pretty sure Jesse would love to hit it”.

Connie

“Hit what?”, he asks, cheeks rosy with embarrassment, and you can't help but laugh again as you pull him in for the tightest hug you're able to provide.

You've never really believed in the whole best friends to lovers thing, that is until your best friend had started to get increasingly handsome, and actually funny, and shockingly mature. Well, within reason anyway. He's still your best friend, in the greatest and worst ways.

Connie is always the first to sense when something's off, he catches every slight, unusual crack in your voice through the phone, knows with incredible precision when to visit, hand holding two to three promising brown bags containing your favorite ice cream (the actual fancy branded one, not the one you usually pick at the market), a surprise dinner (italian, indian, chinese, mexican, you name it), three to five rented movie options for you to choose from, sometimes something unrelated and dumb that is only there with the purpose of making you crack a smile or, if he's feeling particularly confident, making you let out a full on laugh. Like that one time he had bought you a piggy bank, except it was shaped as a chicken and had a sign that said “For your egg-onomics”.

Connie loves you so much that you sometimes feel his love is enough for the both of you, but he stubbornly steps in at every sign of you “disrespecting my badass, hot girlfriend” to remind you that you're still your own person and he simply won't allow you to make him do all the work. He loves you so much he's happy to help you love yourself as well. And you feel grateful, cause even though he's someone you have known for so long, he still manages to surprise you. And you feel lucky, cause you two still get to grow together.

But sometimes, Connie is still your best friend, with all of his annoying habits. He still loves silently farting in bed and then pulling the sheets over your head to force you to smell it. He watches videos on his phone really loudly while sitting right next to you. Taps his fingers on any surface available. And, honestly, sometimes is so comfortable with you, has so much fun, he forgets you're his girlfriend and not another one of his friends.

“What's for dinner?”, he asks, slamming your cupboard shut as you're sitting at the kitchen table, working on your laptop.

“Nothing”, your reply is dry and his spider senses are activated right away.

“What's up?”, the question is cheery, almost mocking, as he loudly drags one of your chairs across the wooden floor to sit next to you.

“Why are you asking about dinner? You're going out with your friends, remember?”

Connie snaps his fingers.

“Right! Wanna tag along?”

You stop typing for a second.

“To the last minute plan you've made without informing me? Hard pass”.

“Dude, come on, don't be like that! I just forgot to tell you, do you wanna track all my movements or something?”, he grins.

“You were the one who called me yesterday to ask if we could spend the evening together, dude”.

His mouth hangs open for a second, realization dawning on him. He's not the best at remembering things, or plans, or promises, something he's been trying to work on. And failing.

“Damn. I'm sorry, man. I'll call Sasha and tell her-”

“Don't, man. Go and have fun, I have work to do anyway”.

“Now I'm confused. Are you upset cause I've made plans or cause I'm not calling you any corny nicknames?”

You sigh, feeling a headache rising up to your temples.

“Don't know, might be nice to be called something that wouldn't make me feel like one of your baseball teammates for once”.

He leans over the table, your gaze automatically finding his.

“Okay. Can you forgive me, bunny?”, he fights it so hard but an entertained smile stretches his lips anyway.

You seriously hope your grimace is terrifying enough for him to stop.

“I take it back”, you hiss, but it's only an invitation for him to take your face in his hands and squeeze it until your lips reach the perfect level of kissability.

“Say that you love me, pumpkin”.

“Connie!", you whine, but he kisses you again with a sloppy sound that makes you roll your eyes with amusement.

“Come on, baby cakes. Say that you love me even if I'm dumb and I forget everything”.

“Yourenotdumb”, you manage to let out, cheeks still squeezed as he pecks them again, one, two, three, four times, until you're both laughing and you're squeezing his face as well.

“Maybe a little dumb”, you declare and it's his turn to roll his eyes.

“But you love me?”, he pouts, big puppy eyes staring into your soul as you playfully lick his nose and he pulls away with a fake, disgusted frown.

“I love you. Have fun, tell Sasha and Jean I said hi”, you surrender and he grins that wide grin of his as he gets up and goes around the table to pull you into a bear hug.

Jean

“I love you more, angel pie!”

Whenever he looks at you, Jean is reminded of how impossibly magical being in love actually feels. When he's out of the shithole that is the office he works in, he gets to stop by your favorite shop to pick flowers you'll hopefully like. When it's summer, he'll buy two popsicles from a supermarket that's too far from your apartment and it doesn't matter how fast he runs, they melt every single time. He has someone to cook for, someone who gently places cups of coffee next to his laptop when he's on a phone call, someone who takes care of him when he's sick and never complains when he gets clingy cause you're firm in your "there's no such thing as too much cuddling” policy.

He loves loving you and feels the luckiest human on earth whenever he remembers that, for some weird astral conjunction, you happen to love him as well. It's just that, on small, specific occasions, when Jean looks at you, love is not exactly the first thing he thinks about.

“Baby”, he clears his throat as you keep singing along to whatever obscene country song the radio is responsible for.

“Baby you're a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”, there's no sign of you hearing him as your fingers mindlessly drum on the steering wheel.

“Honey”, he tries again and this time you look at him behind your sunglasses, lips extended in a smile so beautiful he just has to smile as well.

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe slow down a little?”

Jean can practically feel your eyes rolling all the way to the back of your skull as you reply with a stern oh my god, don't start.

“I'm just here to politely remind you that this is an automatic and quite old ford fusion, not a lamborghini”, he continues, trying his best not to sound annoying. If he wanted to annoy you, he could've pointed out the alarmingly high number of empty water bottles, old bags, two half-eaten sandwiches and the backpack he had to move to be able to find a free spot in the passenger seat.

“Babe, just relax!”

“I'm trying”, he replies tiredly, making you chuckle.

“You sure got the beat in my chest bumpin', hell, I can't get you out of my head”, you're singing again and it takes everything in him not to look for a different channel right away cause perhaps not even his love for you is a motivation strong enough to tolerate country music.

“Hey, isn't that Armin over there?”

Jean's eyes shot up as you intently look over to your left, almost leaning out of the window.

“Ohmygodcanyoulookahead?!”, he practically shouts and you jump in your seat, bringing a hand to your chest.

“Christ, will you calm down?”

“I can't calm down if you're not focused on the road!”

“Jean, I am focused!”

And, almost as to underline your absolute concentration, your foot slams on brakes seconds before the car can smash through the one in front of you.

“Fucking hell”, he mutters, hand running through his hair in disbelief.

You snort, impatient.

“It's your fault for making me nervous”.

“If you hadn't been so focused on looking at Armin, you would've noticed that car braking like half an hour ago and maybe you could've also been able to stop acelerating!”

“Why don't you drive, then?”

“Believe me, nothing would make me happier!”

He should've guessed. You're certainly dramatic enough to actually pull over and wait for him to take your seat before climbing in his, arms crossed, frown still hidden behind your sunglasses.

You both remain silent for the rest of the journey and Jean waits until he's finally able to park your car a little far from your house to speak again. As he turns the engine off, he doesn't unlock the doors, searching for your gaze.

“I'm sorry if I came out aggressive. I'm just anxious”, he murmurs, gently grabbing your chin to make you look at him.

“You're not anxious when Armin drives”.

“Baby, I love you with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, but do you honestly think you two have the same... style?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”, you gasp, incredulous.

He sighs.

“You're just... a tiny bit more adventurous”.

“Clearly? It's called being fun!”

“But I don't want fun rides, I prefer safe ones”, his tone is so apologetic it almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Fine. I won't pick you up from work or anywhere else ever again. In fact, why don't you take my car? You can own two, just like Eren who, by the way, never once complained about my driving style”.

Duh, because he's just as fucking crazy behind the wheel.

“Why don't we compromise?”

You narrow your eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“You promise to be the tiniest bit less fun and more careful when giving me a lift. And I promise to be less of a pain in your ass”.

Reluctantly, you sigh.

“You're never a pain in my ass, idiot. I'll do my best to improve”.

With a hand on the nape of your neck, he brings you in for a kiss. You don't pull back, which means you're not that mad at him.

Jean loves you, he truly does, remembering that gets just a bit harder whenever you're driving.

#aot #eren yeager #armin arlert #eren x reader #armin x reader #connie springer #jean kirschtein #connie x reader #jean x reader

629 notes · View notes

dreamingdixon · 3 years ago

Text

Feng Shui

Sequel to Warmth, or as a separate oneshot.

TW: Mentions of marking/hickeys given with consent. Implied smut, mostly fluff.

“You want this where?”

When you suggested ‘sprucing his place up a bit’, he didn’t realize he’d be at the brink of popping his knee out of its socket trying to move the damn bed.

“I was thinking over here, what do you think?”

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he follows your pointer finger in the direction of the other side of the room. He wants his mouth to ask ‘why, what’s wrong with where it was?’ but knows what’s wrong with it - the energy is off, as you’ve told him, so he closes it at the sight of you - you’re looking at him like you’ve just asked the most important question of his life and he can’t not indulge you. He’d carry the table onto the roof if you blinked at him and said please.

“Whatever you want.”

Humor creeps into his voice before he finishes, the smile building against his cheeks.

“No, no. I want to know what you think, too. I’m just thinking we’ll have more natural light if we’re over there, and you can have more room there for your bike parts, too.”

Daryl can’t remember the last time he cared about natural light and that’s not going to change today - but if you think it’s a good idea, then it’s a hill he’ll happily die on.

Today was just so nice.

You’d both woken up in your usual positions, you curled up against his side with your nose pressing against the skin of his throat, his arm curved around you protectively. Daryl woke up before you, too fond of the little huffs of air you were pressing against him to move - deciding instead to just wait. It was his turn to admire the orange streaming in from the sunrise painting the wall opposite.

When you finally stir, he whispers in your ear that you look so damn pretty, and you respond with your own string of compliments - you’re gorgeous, you know that? Waking up next to you is the best thing to ever happen to me, even before the world fell. The appreciation turns physical - words of affection molding into caresses and fluttering kisses that explore lower and lower, hands pawing at exposed skin, and the few bits of clothing you sleep in being hastily discarded.

Finding your shirt afterward is so difficult, you make a mental note to watch which direction Daryl throws your clothing in from now on. He’s watching you - like a smirking teenager - as you pace around the room searching for your damn shirt. You could grab a new one, but it’s the principle of the thing.

“Oh my God, Daryl. I��m going to kill you. Where the fuck did you throw it?”

He huffs out a laugh as you dart around, the warm orange glow replaced with pure bright light streaming in, illuminating the entire room.

“Beats me, have ya checked under the table?”

Raising his eyebrows, he literally can’t believe you actually fell for it as he watches you bend over in nothing but the underwear you managed to find, and he hopes he never forgets the sight you’ve just graced him with. He makes a note to hide the underwear next time, too.

“It’s not here, what the- You’re a tracker, why aren’t you helping me?”

Daryl swallows down the saliva that accumulated from the way your ass was in the air, and he thinks to himself it’s because the violet splotches he’d gifted you were everywhere and he’s the one who gave them to you - you’re the one who asked him to and he can’t take his eyes away - otherwise he’d happily help. Just not this time.

Flicking yourself upwards, you turn around and face the archer again. He looks entirely too smug for an innocent man. Pacing back towards him slowly, he raises his hands in defeat, but after some empty threats and rolling around, you find the shirt tangled in the sheets at the bottom of the bed and he swears if looks could kill, he’d be six feet underground.

He pulls you against him, a firm grip around you with his thick arms that has you squirming and giggling, but you still against when he mumbles a compliment into your ear - something about the view you just gave him and how you don’t have nearly enough marks, how he’ll give you more if you let him.

He’s getting bold, and it has you flushed completely red when he finally lets your peel yourself away from him.

Clearing your throat and pulling the shirt over your head, Daryl’s still got traces of a smile on his features as he collects his boxers, shirt, and trousers before you both go about your day. Daryl heads out with Aaron, they’ve found signs of movement nearby and they believe there might be a small group they might be able to bring in if they can follow their path quickly enough, while you head out with Rosita for a perimeter check around the walls.

The day passes quickly, and you’re throwing your damp hair into a braid when he makes his way down the stairs.

“Hey, good day?”

He asks, throwing his gear onto the clearest part of the desk. Making his way over, he plants a kiss on the crown of your head while you finish off the intricate braid as he shrugs off the leather vest, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt to cool him down.

“Yeah, we found a breach on the south portion of the wall - nothing dangerous, I think it’s just worn from the weather, but we’re going to head out soon to gather the resources to fix it. Did you get any closer to tracking the group?”

“Nah, they went too far north for us to track ‘em on foot, we’re gonna try again tomorrow with the car.”

You hum your understanding, telling him maybe he should date Aaron since he’s spending so much time with him, eliciting an eye roll as a response. He grabbed a few bits from the pantry on his way back inside the walls, and he sets them on the counter for later - but first, a shower.

Evenings feel as long as the days with the lazy movements of the sun, but it leaves you feeling like you have more time together so you’d never complain. While he showers, you find yourself wandering around the room, a finger trailing behind lazily on surfaces as you step, picking up a few bits as you tidy somewhat. There are memories attached to so many things in here, and you find yourself silently praying you never lose the bottom floor of this house - you’d defend it with your life.

Inconspicuous but so sentimental is how you’d describe the shared basement. There are memories, moments that link to almost everything, but nobody would have a clue unless you or Daryl told them - and neither of you ever would. You’d never tell anybody that the crimson blanket crumpled at the foot of the bed is there from your first run with Daryl, where you were both trapped inside a Walmart during a storm. It was surprisingly not entirely empty, a few un-scavenged bits still dotted around the store - not many items were useful, but you’d take anything at this point - and the deep red blanket was the base of a makeshift bed for you both that night. It was that evening you told him you liked him because you couldn’t wait for another second because the thunder was so loud and you were sure you were going to be taken out by a rogue bolt of lightning that night - Daryl huffed at your confession, watching the worry in your eyes ease as he told you to come closer, holding you until the storm passed. His confession followed a few days later atop the same blanket.

Tucked away in a drawer were a few small boxes holding delicate jewelry he’d brought back for you from various runs. ‘I know ya don’t really have a chance to wear it, but it’s your favorite colour, so..’ along with other trinkets - a mug with a motorcycle on it that you gifted him one day that left him with the most bewildered look ever on his face, and you explained ‘It could be your birthday for all we know. I found this and thought of you. Happy birthday.’ and a funky shaped twig he said ‘reminded me of ya.’ that you still don’t understand.

You’re too invested in your thoughts to notice the bathroom door open, too lost in memories to hear the footsteps behind you until Daryl’s behind you, pressing a damp kiss to the soft skin behind your ear. You watch as he buttons a fresh shirt over damp skin.

“Can we re-decorate?”

It’s so out of the blue that it leaves him confused. Re-decorate? Like, an Ikea run re-decorate?

He listens with raised eyebrows when you talk about feng shui, about how you don’t really know what it is but you’re certain the bed should be in the other corner because the vibe is off in this corner, and you want it against the off-white on the other side of the room because that’s where the sun hits in the morning and you’re pretty sure that’ll do something super positive to the energy. You read it in a magazine once, something about furniture placements bringing harmony - waking up with your both painted in thick orange will absolutely bring you harmony, so it’s worth a try, right?

Daryl has absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, he’s never heard the term feng shui or the word ‘harmony’ come out of your mouth before, but he knows even less about the topic so he’s not about to correct you, mostly because he’s so obsessed with how you can be so passionate about something that he can guarantee has only just popped into your mind. His eyes follow you around as you flail your arms in every direction, pointing from the desk to the couch talking about how ‘this is how it was before the world fell, we need to change it into something we want, you know?’ He listens in awe - speechless, mostly - until you finish strong with the promise of bringing a ‘really nice rug from one of the empty houses across the road, it’ll match the fuck ugly purple armchair, what do you think?’ and he wants to be honest and tell you that he isn’t thinking but even if you turn the place into a funhouse - what does it matter? You can paint a mural of puppies on the wall and hang tinsel for all he cares - if it’s what you wanted, it’s okay.

He remembers being younger and how his father would come into his and Merle’s shared bedroom sometimes, at the time not having a clue why a bitter smell would follow the man when he walked through the door, but it made Daryl’s stomach lurch, so one night he moved his bed in front of the door so he didn’t have to smell him just for one night - and he paid for it that morning, when the man had to climb through the bedroom window instead. Listening to how you want to move the bed for good energy gives him the ability to store an old memory away, locked inside a box in his mind to replace it with this one. He has a private space now, just for the two of you.

Your idea of ‘helping’ is you sitting on the couch, throwing your arms in the air like a cheerleader for encouragement while Daryl sweats and his arms shake as he pushes the monstrosity with you on it. He wants to laugh with you but his lungs have shrivelled up and died, although he loves hearing your elated voice cheer him on, he’s happier when you skip to the other side of the couch and pull while he pushes. You tell him that ‘teamwork makes the dream work’ and he can’t agree quickly enough.

It’s a joint effort then to move the table to the side before you pull the mattress off the bed ungracefully shoving it by the door to lighten the burden as you both drag the wooden frame to the desired location. Where the ‘vibes are better’ or something. With the frame in place, you quickly run across the lot to grab the rug you told him about - and he agrees, it does match the fuck ugly purple armchair perfectly. Finally, the mattress and bedding are arranged and the work is done.

“Is there even a point making the bed? I thought you wanted to add to your collection.”

You tell him with a confident reminder of his earlier threat. Raising his eyebrows, it only takes a few steps from his lean legs to back you against the thick mattress, the backs of your knees hitting the intended target and buckling. He towers over you, and the way you’re looking up at him so innocently through your lashes does something to him - of course, he’s going to fulfil his word.

“Oh, I’m gonna, Princess. You want me to?”

Your head nods of its own accord, you ache for the way he speaks to you with so much conviction. The confidence in his voice is recently found, but you’d never think from how he uses his words so perfectly - and they’re all for you.

His fingers grab yours, pulling you up onto your feet gently as his lips find yours again. Confusion is written all over his face when you pull away suddenly with a “wait, come over here first” as you drag him to the corner of the room. He’s disoriented from the sudden switch of your actions until you ask him “well, do you think it looks good? I think it’s better, but what do you think?” and he whispers “looks perfect” without even glancing at the rearranged space. His eyes are glued to you and how you’re so proud of the simple room transformation, but it’s a space that belongs to both of you and he hopes now you’ll love it even more now it’s had your own personal touch.

Smiling up at him, you give his hand a squeeze - you’re so content with everything right now and it shows in the lines that form by your eyes.

He lets himself be pulled to the foreign corner with the bed, and he brings his earlier promise to life, mouth dragging over curves and dips of sensitive skin until the familiar orange glow paint you both a magical shade of molten gold, the crimson blanket barely covering your tangled limbs, exposing the galaxy he spent the night embellishing your body with.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fic #twd #twd fanfic #twd imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #the walking dead fanfic #implied smut

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pinkandblueblurbs · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please write a Remus or Sirius or James (or all 3) smut based off of this porn link

of course i can 😏 thanks to @luci-n-lyssa for reading this over twice while i was in the process of writing it!! 😚 also the reader is either naked or without underwear, which i never really described bc i thought the person in the porn was too. but i was wrong so i’m clarifying that here.

a/n: kinda hate this and feel like it’s super choppy. writing foursomes is hard idk how people do it well

word count: 3.7k

Remus Lupin x James Potter x Sirius Black x Fem!Reader. Sub James and Reader, Dom Remus and Sirius. Masturbation, vibrators, bondage, degradation, punishment, d/s dynamics, praise, handjobs, daddy kink, overstimulation, crying, bimbofication, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, safewords are in place

“Daddy please” you whine pitifully as Remus tightens the strap on your thighs, completing the binds that hold you quite nearly motionless on his bed.

“Shut up, puppy, we don’t wanna listen to you whine.” Sirius grumbles from where he sits on his own mattress, fingers trailing up and down James’s bare side as the bespectacled boy lays with his head in Sirius’s lap. Both their gazes are trained intently on you and your helpless position.

“This is what you wanted anyway, isn’t it?” Remus muses, long fingers checking over all your binds to ensure they’re snug enough to limit your movements but not uncomfortably tight. “You wanted to use your little toy, so we’re gonna let you.”

You whimper at his reference to your earlier transgression, your cheeks heating at the reminder of the shame you’d felt when your three doms had entered your dorm to find you nude, on your bed, moaning as you pleasured yourself with your vibrating wand.

“Toss me the vibrator, Pads.” Remus orders gruffly once he deems your binds appropriate. The raven haired male picks up the device from its spot beside him on his bed and pitches it to the lycanthrope, who catches it easily in one large hand as he looks down at you sternly.

“Alright, bunny. I’m gonna turn this on, and-“

“Please don’t, I’m so sorry-“

“Fuckin’ hell, he didn’t ask for your input. How dumb are you, puppy?” Sirius interrupts your interjection, fingers gently massaging the skin of James’s scalp beneath his soft curls as the boy’s cheek rests against his thigh, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard tone.

You whimper, looking up at Remus with a deliberate pout. To your dismay, he offers you no sympathy in response to Sirius’s cruel words.

“He’s right, angel, you know better than to interrupt me.” He reprimands cooly, making you whimper softly at the unfairness of it all, before continuing. “Now, as I was saying. I’m going to turn this on, and put it right between your pretty legs, up against your clit.”

“‘M I allowed to cum?” You question meekly, muscles flexing in your binds anxiously, unsure whether or not you’d be able to stop your sensitive body from doing so anyway.

“Course you are, babydoll” James pipes up now, voice low and smooth, clearly relaxed by Sirius’s gentle ministrations. “You’re gonna cum lots and lots for us, put on a real pretty show.” His tone is one of satisfaction, a sly grin adorning his lips, and you let out a plaintive whine.

“Lots and lots? But-“

“No buts about it, bun.” Remus cuts you off, sounding somewhat annoyed. “You’re just determined to be difficult tonight, aren’t you? Why can’t you just take your punishment like a good girl, hm?”

“Sorry” you murmur out softly, cheeks heating at his reprimand. “I’ll be good.”

“Damn right you will, or I’ll make sure you don’t sit for weeks.” You barely hear the words from Sirius as they’re muttered out between his gritted teeth from across the room. But, you manage to pick up on them, and the threat has a shock of nerves shooting through you, making you whimper pathetically in response.

Any further noises of complaint are drowned out somewhat when Remus flicks the dial on the vibrator, a trilled buzz filling the room. You try to squirm away as the lycanthrope moves to position the wand, but the attempt is made futile by the secure straps rendering you immobile.

You let out a startled gasp of pleasure as the device makes contact with your pussy, the head pressed firmly against your swollen clit and sending shockwaves of sensation through your most sensitive nerves. Remus lodges the wand securely between your clenching thighs, making sure that the quivering head remains against your button.

“There we are. How does that feel, bunny?” Remus inquires, eyes raking over your already trembling form with a nearly suppressed hunger.

“G-good” you gasp out, words more whimpered than spoken.

“Good.” He echoes, turning to pad over to the bed Sirius and James occupy and take his spot beside them, purportedly to take in the view. You whine as the toy buzzes away against you, the sensation only heightened by your subtle jerks and squirms, the straps leaving indentations on your taught limbs.

“That’s it, puppy.” Sirius says as he watches your helpless form writhe. “Just gotta lay there and look pretty for us.” You flit your gaze over to your engaged audience and are met with orbs of blue hazel and grey, the likes all but eclipsed by black in the boys’ arousal. Arousal which is apparent by the state of their crotches- James’s cock exposed, rouged and leaking, Sirius’s boxer clad groin forming an obvious tent beside James’s resting head, and Remus’s grey trousers similarly tight.

As you tremble with pleasureful shock after pleasureful shock, the hungry eyes of your doms only adding to the stimulation, you see James roll over onto his front. Cheek still resting against Sirius’s thigh, still watching you intently, he begins rocking subtly against the bed. Sirius chuckles, his touch on the boy’s scalp firming as he catches on to what the boy is doing.

“Look, Moons.” Sirius catches the male’s attention, Remus’s gaze shifting somewhat hesitantly away from you and towards James, where you catch his eyes widen slightly and a grin form on his face. “You gettin’ all worked up watchin’ our girl squirm, Prongs?” Sirius teases, hand trailing down to leave ghosted paths on the warm skin of James’s back, his muscles flexing with his movements against the mattress. The boy nods, letting out a soft whimper.

“‘S real pretty, isn’t it?” Remus muses, looking back at you to take in your quivering form once more. You moan softly, both from the sensation on your clit and the interactions of the boys before you. You watch as Sirius reaches down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging down the material and allowing his hard member to spring up and slap against his slender abdomen. James lifts his head immediately at the sound, his wide, eager eyes those of a puppy.

“Y’wanna suck me off, pretty boy?” James nods eagerly, widening Sirius’s grin with his enthusiasm. “Go ahead, then. Suck my cock while you listen to our pretty girl.”

You let out another lewd moan at the sight of James tilting his head down, mouth open to accept Sirius’s cock into it. You watch him eagerly suckle at the tip, causing Sirius’s lips to part in pleasure and a soft groan to spill from between them.

“That’s a good boy, Prongs. Such a good cock sucker.” He praises as he continues to gently rub the boys’ back, which is still rippling with motion. You flick your gaze to the lycanthrope who sits at the pair’s right and find his eyes trained similarly on James as he works. You whimper, foggy mind offended by the lack of attention, and then let out a somewhat dramatic moan in hopes of regaining the boys’ regard.

“Oh bunny” Remus croons, meeting your desperate gaze “we didn’t forget about you.”

“Such a needy girl. Can’t go one second without attention, can you?” Sirius taunts with exaggerated irritation. You whimper.

“N-no, just feels good. Go-onna cum.” The words come out stuttered by moans as you use your impending release as a cover for your attention-seeking outburst.

“Go ahead, then.” Remus allows in a tone that edges on bored, his apparent indifference fanning the billowing flames inside you. “We told you you could cum whenever you’d like.”

With that confirmation of permission- and guarantee of their attentive viewership- you allow yourself to loosen up, allow your body to rapidly ascend towards that pleasurable peak as the vibrator bombards your clit with sensation.

You let out a long, pornographic moan as rapture engulfs you, back arching off the bed as much as your leather restrictions will allow, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape. You’re pleased to hear the pair of groans your ringing ears just barely pick up, indicating Remus and Sirius’s enjoyment of the sight.

“Look, Prongs.” Sirius grunts, grabbing a fistful of the boy’s curly locks and pulling him upwards with a ‘pop’, angling his head to view your trembling form and blissed out facial features. “Look how fucking pretty she looks as she cums.”

James’s groan gets added to the mix as he watches you, and you throw your head to the side to look at the boys, stars dancing across your vision and blurring your view of their focused faces.

Then your orgasm’s over, and the onslaught of vibrations against your swollen, oversensitive clit has you crying out and bucking as much as you can.

“Daddy” you shout at the sensation as it edges on pain, turning to the lycanthrope in charge. “Stop it- ‘s too much, already came, ‘m done” you blabber, your overworked mind too fuzzy to recall that the overstimulation is the entire point.

“Hush, bunny, you’re fine.” Remus easily dismisses your anguish, reaching down to give his bulge a squeeze, relieving the tension that’s building there.

“I’m not, it hurts, daddy” you whimper out as the vibrations persist, although the twinges of pain are already starting to fade and make way for yet another build up of pleasure.

“He said you’re fuckin fine, pup.” Sirius grits out, voice tight as James’s mouth works him, the raven haired boy having coaxed the submissive back onto his cock while you’d whined to Remus. “Don’t argue. This is a punishment, remember? ‘S not about your comfort.”

“But- ohhh” your stubborn complaints are cut off by a moan as pleasure engulfs the pain in its entirety, your body’s libido revitalized and coaxing you slowly towards another orgasm. Remus chuckles.

“See, poppet? You’re such a little slut that you like it.”

“Daddy” is all you can think to moan, mind bleary as you struggle to form a sentence “good- feels really good”

“What a pathetic little thing.” Sirius sounds almost bored as he utters the words, fingers back to massaging James’s scalp as the boy toils over his cock, the latter’s broad hips still rutting against the mattress.

Your attention is pulled away from the erotic display by the telltale sound of a zipper, and your eyes flick immediately to Remus’s lap, where as expected the boy is freeing is long, hard cock from the confines of his trousers. He spits into his hand and begins unceremoniously stroking his cock, and when you raise your gaze you find his directly on you, watching with great intent.

The whole scene makes your stomach flutter, the knowledge that Remus and Sirius are getting off to the sight of you- that James is humping the bed over the sound alone- adding to your arousal tenfold.

“Ohhh fuck, that’s a good boy, James” Sirius groans out when James takes him down to the hilt, his nose nestled in the coarse bed of black hair at Sirius’s base. Slender fingers trail down James’s back to a cheek of his ass, squeezing firmly at the flesh as his muscles flex and pulse with the boy’s desperate undulations. You moan as you watch, hips jolting upwards rhythmically thanks to the vibrations of the toy and your cresting orgasm.

“Gonna cum again already, bunny?” Remus asks, words accented by the wet squelches of his fist on his cock. You nod so vigorously it appears your neck may snap, the pleasure inside you budding into full bloom as a long, high moan escapes you.

“Fuck yes” Sirius gasps out, and James’s audible gag is enough for even your enraptured mind to know the boy’s hips snapped upwards at the sight and sound of your intense orgasm.

Your pleasure subsides quickly and gives way to that pain once again- though this time it’s more sharp, more intense, and it has you whimpering and crying out and all but thrashing on the bed.

“Please please please” you beg fruitlessly as you writhe, desperate to get away from the relentless sensation. “Turn it off daddy, please, turn it off!”

“You know what to say if you want it off, baby.” Remus reminds you of your safe word, voice somewhat gentle.

“Otherwise shut the fuck up.” Sirius adds in a low growl. James pops off from his cock.

“She sounds pretty when she begs though” he counters, eyeing your squirming, whimpering form with a lusty gaze.

“Yeah, you’re right. She certainly does.” Sirius concedes before promptly tangling a hand in James’s hair and leading his mouth back onto his leaking dick.

“Daddy” your voice is shrill as your torture continues, your skin chafing and your muscles aching where the binds hold you tight. Before you can beg further your hips jolt upwards again, however this time your thighs clench just right and squeeze the vibrator our of their clutches, sending it rolling off your body and onto the bed, then the floor, with an audible thud.

You let out a gasp of sheer relief at the mercy on your swollen bud as the toy buzzes away on the floor. Your chest heaves as you pant, your sensitive cunt pulsing with overstimulation, though with the source of the pain gone you can finally breathe again.

“Fuckin’ hell” Remus mutters as he stands, cock bobbing against his abdomen as his hand abandons it. “That was a big mistake, bunny” he says darkly as he bends down to pick up the toy. Before you can open your mouth to ask what he means he flicks the switch on the wand’s handle, and the buzzing grows louder as the head vibrates so fast it looks as if it’s not moving at all.

“No!” You cry out, writhing again on the bed. “Daddy please, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to-“

“Hush.” He growls, reaching out to press down firmly on your lower belly, holding you in place. “You should’ve controlled yourself, brat. You’re gonna stay still now, and take two more orgasms without movin’ the vibe.” He states simply, as if the act is an easy one. You open your mouth to argue, but at that moment he presses the wand back against your inflamed clit, and all that leaves your lips are wordless whines. He lodges the device firmly between your thighs once more.

“There ya go.” He mutters, giving your mound a satisfied pat before he turns away from your trembling form and returns to his spot on the bed.

You continue to whimper and squirm on the mattress, your skin growing balmy with exertion and your mind turning more and more foggy with each jolt of painful pleasure that shoots through your tensed form. The air’s filled with the sounds of sex- your moans, the buzzing of the toy, the wet slurps of James’s mouth, and the groans of all three boys as they watch and pleasure themselves- and one another.

Soon James’s whimpers overwhelm the others sounds, however, as his hips speed up against the bed and his hands grip desperately at Sirius’s thigh.

“Ohhh pretty boy, are you gonna cum?” Remus murmurs, leaning forward to look around Sirius and watch the boy’s movements, the bed shaking with every snap of his hips. He moans in affirmation around Sirius’s length.

“Gonna make a big mess, pup?” Sirius coos in a teasing manner, gripping the boy’s locks and pulling upwards “here baby- get that outta y’mouth for now, there you go.” James’s head falls limply against Sirius’s thigh, his lips slack and glistening as a shaky moan falls from between them.

“That’s it, Jamesie. Cum for us- make yourself cum .” Remus encourages gruffly. With that the boy shudders and his hips falter in their rhythm. The whimper he lets out is long and choked as his load spills onto the sheets below him, his still rutting hips smearing the sticky fluid into the fabric and coating his skin.

“What a good boy.” Sirius croons, petting his head adoringly as the boy stills, eyes closed and breathing ragged. “Humping the bed and making a big pretty mess of yourself”

You let out a moan, back arching in your binds, the eroticism of what you just saw making your eyes roll back as your third orgasm nears.

“Look at that, pretty boy. You’re gonna make bunny cum.” Remus lilts, voice an overexcited coo as he mocks the bleary boy.

You can feel their eyes on you as you cum, your third orgasm tearing through you, painfully intense on your overstimulated clit and drawing an anguished cry from your lips.

“Ohh, that hurts doesn’t it puppy?” Sirius croons mockingly as he pets James’s head. “Poor thing.”

“Please” you gasp out, your body shaking with the force of the aftershocks, your clit throbbing painfully, nearly stinging with the unstopping vibrations.

“You sound so pathetic, baby.” Remus responds gruffly, still fisting at his hard cock, the tip now rouged and leaking even more than before. Pained tears fill your eyes, clouding your vision as you throw your head to the side to look at the boys. Your entire body is ablaze with discomfort- your bound limbs aching, your abused clit burning, your eyes stinging with hot salty tears. Yet beneath it all is a semblance of pleasure, a backdrop of arousal at your helpless position and the degrading, nearly cruel presence of your doms.

Though the image is blurred with moisture- moisture which has begun to escape your eyes and flow down your cheeks- you can see Sirius direct James’s lethargic head back to his cock.

“That’s a good boy, get back to sucking. I know you’re sleepy, but we’ll all be done soon.” Sirius encourages the male, who blinks up at the former with wide, glassy eyes as he suckles gently at the length in his mouth.

Janes works the boy to orgasm seemingly in sync with you, Sirius’s stuttering hips and slew of low groans indicating his impending release- while your loud cries and jerking body indicate your own.

“Fuck, that’s it Prongs. Gonna cum in your pretty mouth, gotta swallow it all f’me” Sirius growls out as his hips snap upwards and his hand holds firmly on the back of James’s head. James gags as the first shot of cum prods at his reflex, but Sirius keeps him in place as he spills down his throat with a low groan.

The sight is enough to send you over the edge, and with a hoarse, shrill scream you cum for the fourth time, the sensation almost entirely one of pain as your overworked body struggles through another release. Remus is on his feet quickly, thankfully, and crosses the space between the beds to reach out with his left hand and remove the buzzing toy from your clit.

“Shhhh, that’s it, all done. Such a good girl.” Remus soothes your trembling form. You whimper, even the aftershocks of this orgasm painful in nature as the convulsing of your tender cunt sends pangs of discomfort through you.

“Th-thank you” you choke out, voice shaky and feeble.

Remus’s right hand had never ceased stroking his cock, and as he takes in your pathetic position- sweaty, hair messy, face burning, clit raw and cunt clenching periodically- he lets out a low groan.

“Gonna paint you with my cum, bunny. Really make you look like a fucked out slut” He grits out, and with a final tug of his length he does just that. Rope after thick rope of hot seed hits the skin of your belly before he shifts and lands the last few shots on your face. Your lips fall open naturally to welcome what you can catch into your mouth, and a small string of the fluid hits your tongue, the salty, heady flavor dancing on your tastebuds. You hum contently as you swallow the substance, and Remus releases his hold on his shaft, allowing the softening length to slap against his broad thigh.

“Such a pretty picture you make, puppy.” Sirius pipes up from his place on the bed, gently moving James’s head off his lap so he can rise to his feet and move beside Remus. He looks down at your form with a cocky grin, coaxing his index finger into your panting mouth, which you latch onto happily in your bleary state.

“Thank you daddy” you garble out around the digit, distantly aware of Remus’s nimble fingers working the straps off of you and the relief it grants your aching muscles.

“You did so well for us, poppet, you’re such a good girl.” Remus praises abundantly as he gets off the cuffs adorning your wrists and firmly massages the reddened skin there.

“Thank you daddy” is all you can think to repeat, blinking slow and eyes glassy as you gaze up at their watchful stares, processing nothing aside from the fact that they’re proud of you.

“She’s totally out of it” Remus murmurs to Sirius as his hands move down to offer your taut thighs the same treatment as your wrists.

“So’s James.” Sirius adds with a nod of his head over his shoulder. The doms shift their gaze to the boy, and satisfied grins form on their faces at the sight of their sub still laid in his own cum, eyes equally glassy as yours as he stares at the three of you with a blank expression.

“Well then, let’s get our babies all cleaned up so we can give them some nice cuddles, how ‘bout that?” Remus muses as he massages your supple thighs. You nod, letting out a soft whine as Sirius pulls his finger from your mouth and swipes his knuckles over your damp cheeks, wiping away the tear tracks there.

“Want cuddles” James pipes up, his soft, whimpered voice a testament to his bleary headspace. Sirius smiles.

“Of course, baby. You grab James, big guy, I’ve got puppy.”

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