#yes his name is fiend
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mydarlingdahlia · 1 year ago
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Just Oleysa and her monster bf hangin out
I want them to get married and have babies GRAHHHHHH
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dwaekkicidal · 1 month ago
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Oh my god I beg for some mean skz smut 😔😔
hmmmm ok but what are we thinking for the hyung line?
is it about meanie channie who snaps after you slut yourself out in the studio when staff was in there- along with the rest of 3racha who you know has a little crush on you hehe. he barely waits for them to walk out the door before shoving you towards the door, forcing you to lock it before shoving his cock into you while you're pushed up against the door- mind you with minimum prep because "You don't deserve it. after that shit." his cock is soooo much thicker like this!!!! >.< and he manages to make his thrusts prove his anger? hips smacking into yours so harshly that it feels like the soundproof door isn't enough to drown any sounds out
what about brat tamer minho who forces you to sit between his legs and watch him jerk himself off? you have a pretty little vibrator thats connect to your clit and your g-spot simultaneously, and he has the controls on his phone that rests in his free hand. he fucks with the controls so much... maybe even teasing u by drawing his full name- in english AND korean- before setting it to the highest setting and leaving it like that until you're cumming at least 3 times.
my sweet binnie who's only mean if you beg him to be or if you reaaaaally push his buttons- maybe throw in a dig or two about how theres another man out there thats better than he is (spoiler: theres literally negative of them). your punishment (reward) is always the same! one of those those sexy ass arms around your neck and squeezing as he fucks into you so roughly that your whole body is jumping forward, your moans cutting off from how aggressive he gives it to you!!!
ok but what about lover boy hyunjin who is actually one of the meanest doms you have ever seen, 99% of the time it being unprompted as well??? the first time you push him to get rough in bed, you're in for ittt~ he ties your wrists up and connects you to the hook in the ceiling, leaving just enough rope for you to be on your tippy toes (also the same hook he previously told you was for painting... yeah, my fucking ass) and speaking of asses, yours is sooo sore from the big handed smacks he leaves there >< he'll always stop if you want it, but otherwise he has no plans to until you submit to him completely <3
whats on the menu for the maknaes today?
definitely munch hannie who ties you up with the most random shit that works- any ties he has laying around, your panties, and sometimes he'll straight up rip his shoelaces out for it?? but it's all so that he can show off the shibari he secretly learned- the main one being a series of knots that tie your arms to a leg each, forcing you wide open for him all the while he eats. and what a messy fucking eater!!! your last 3 orgasms worth of cum dripping down his jaw as he nibbles at your sensitive spots <3
"angel boy" felix me thinks.. who makes you fuck yourself onto him in doggy, refusing to put any effort because he's the "angel" who deserves to be worshipped (yes but...) if you falter even slightly or move to his disliking, you're getting a series of mean smacks- ones that leave a pretty little heart shape in its wake from the pretty pink paddle he insisted on buying (OR HIS INITIALS IF HE GETS A CUSTOM PADDLE OMFFF)
ohhhh but owner seungmin who fucks your brains out with a pretty little collar around your neck <3 (maybe even one also with his initials engraved hehe) he tugs at it to fuck you back onto him, not even need a leash when he slides his finger through one of the loops. huffs and puffs about how tight you are while he actively works to make you tighter, from squeezing your legs together to overstimulating the hell out of you all the while he disallows himself to cum for as long as he can handle, all so when he finally busts theres so much and its all getting fucked right back into you
and god... toy fiend jeongin... the second you let him know you're ok with toys being brought into the bedroom, you're almost regretting everything!!! he's SO fucked up about it >:( he keeps one of those big hands around your throat while the other slides a vibrator as deep into you as it physically can go without causing you pain... and when you squirm around and your legs squeeze together, he's either digging his fingers into your thigh to push them apart or he's biting whatever he's closest to- your thighs, your calf, your shoulder, or (his favorite) your nipples <3
hnnnnng....
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Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams
@aeri-skzver
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suiana · 5 months ago
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yandere! fae x elf! reader omg...
you're an elf (obviously) and one day while you were out wandering, you stumble upon this random fae who was... high off his ass? he was just sitting in the middle of a flower patch, giggling to himself?? wait a second, were those the banned hallucinogenic flowers???
you didn't know what to make of it so you decided to just leave him alone...
until he suddenly snapped his head 180 degrees and lunged at you, hugging your legs.
"an elf! elfie~! so beautiful... i love you! you're mine now~ hehehe... ehehe..."
!!!
yeah he's totally zooted.
you grimace at his actions, awkwardly shoving him off you before trying to leave.
but who knew that he'd start running after you?
"elfie no run! i just wanna love you! so beautiful... give me your name~!"
"begone you fiend!"
you could only scream and run in fear, staring as this high fae chased after you like you were his next dose of drugs or weed. eventually, you managed to lose him and get to the safety of your house. that's what you think.
damn faes, all tricksters and impulsive... that's why none of the elves ever like them. even though the two are cut from the same cloth, coming from the same ancestors, the fae were just... infinitely worse.
you let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead until you hear soft giggling from behind you. all was quiet, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your chest as you feel your mouth go dry. who-?
"eheh... elfie... so pretty..."
what the hell?!
you snap your neck at him, eyes wide and horrified.
"elfie's home nice... i'll stay here now too, yes?"
no, no, no!
however, it was like the fae wasn't even listening as he sighs happily, scooting over to you before hugging your legs and snuggling up against you.
"mn... so soft and warm too... elfie is perfect..."
god damn it, and he was still high through it all.
oh well, hopefully he'll sober up soon and be more reasonable.
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sereinegemini · 17 days ago
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Been an Awful Good Girl || D.M. & T.N.
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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader x Theodore Nott
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: Draco and Theo enjoy their bow-wrapped present under the tree.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI smut (dom!draco, dom!theo, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names, cursing, unprotected sex, cream pie, threesome, slight masochism, male oral, face fucking, cumshot, lyrics from Santa Baby)
Author's Note: Merry Christmas Eve (and Happy Holidays to anyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas)! I wasn't sure if I was going to finish this in time but I've pushed through the past few days and hope you guys enjoy the end result!
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Festive Muggle music drifted from your record player, the needle floating lazily atop the spinning vinyl. You were rocking your hips to the beat and placing ornaments strategically throughout the fir tree Draco and Theo had dutifully bought from the lot down the road. You wished you’d been here to revel in them struggling to drag it up the stairs to your third-story flat, but you’d unfortunately had to work a shift at the boutique. With the holidays just around the corner, Muggles were shopping like mad and your boss had asked everyone to pick up extra shifts.
But now you were home, freshly showered and dressed in a silk, gingerbread patterned pajama set. Theo was in the kitchen cooking his famous gnocchi cacciatore soup. At least, it was famous between the three of you and all your friends. And Draco—who had strung the lights throughout the tree for you and hung all of one ornament—was sat back on the sofa with a glass of Old Fashioned and contently watching his girl decorate. A smirk danced its way to his lips every time you stretched up on your tippy-toes to reach the higher branches, the shorts of your pajamas riding up to show off the delicious curve of your ass.
You were currently trying your damndest to reach one of the highest branches, getting nowhere close to the top of the eight-foot tree. Draco, unable to control himself at the sight of over half your ass on full display, decided it was in everyone’s best interest to help you. Especially his. He silently pressed against your back, sliding a warm hand around your stomach where your shirt was lifted. “Need some help, darling?” 
You startled for a beat before melting into his embrace. “Yes, please,” you sighed sheepishly.
Still holding you against him, he took the glass ball and held it to a high-hanging branch. “Here?”
“Mhm..” you answered, not even registering where he was holding the bulb. He was leaning into you to reach the tree and his boner was poking into your lower back. The mere pressure of it made your mind go blank and swirl with desire.
“Darling, is there something on your mind?” he asked lowly against your ear, trailing his fingertips along the hem of your shorts. The fiend knew exactly what was on your mind.
“Dray-” is all you breathed, angling your lips towards his. He softly pressed his mouth against yours, tugging you against him. His hand slid into the waist of your shorts and he wasted no time before he slipped a finger into your already wet folds. You moaned needily against his lips, tugging him closer with a hand on his shoulder.
“Oh my, what have we here, amorina?” [Sweetheart] Theo was perched against the doorframe from the kitchen to the living room, his arms crossed smugly. A tent was forming in the front of his slacks, pulling the material taunt around his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight. Were you about to have both of your boyfriends at once? It wasn’t unheard of, but they usually enjoyed you in turns.
“Thought we’d have a light snack before dinner,” Draco drawled, beginning lazy circles on your clit. You jumped at the sensation before melting into his arms, your eyelids drooping in pleasure.
“Hmm, suppose it couldn’t ruin our appetites too much.” They shared devious grins before turning their ravenous gazes to you. Theo slowly trailed his eyes down your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin on display while he began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Where do you want us, darling? The couch? The bed?” Draco mumbled against your ear, never faltering his onslaught to your clit. Your legs were beginning to numb with pleasure and if it weren’t for his strong arms around you, you’d very well be on the floor. A satisfied hum vibrated in his throat, “Or how about right here next to the tree?”
Your head swam at the idea, your lust growing tenfold as you imagined them laying you down on the plush rug with the christmas lights twinkling above you—pleasing themselves with your body to their hearts’ content. “Yes,” you gasped, growing ever closer to your climax.
“What was that, cara? [Dear] Use your polite words like the good girl you are,” Theo ordered, coming up behind you and moving your hair to the side so he could place kisses along your neck.
“I- I want you right here. Please..” you begged, gripping onto Draco’s shoulder to ground yourself as waves of release began surging through you.
Draco stopped the pressure to your clit. “As you wish, my love.”
You whined at the loss of his touch and your impending orgasm, but obediently allowed the boys to lay you down beside the tree. Draco resumed kissing you while using his hands to discard you of your pajamas. Your breasts ached once they were freed, arousal and the chilly air of your old apartment delightfully hardening your nipples. Theo ran painter-calloused thumbs over the hardened nubs and you arched your back into his touch before he pulled away, leaving you feeling deprived once more.
Remotely, you were aware of your dark-haired boy digging through a box of christmas decor—but your attention was quickly overtaken by Draco, who had abandoned your mouth to trail kisses and licks to your uncovered skin. He swirled his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, the pleasurable pain caused you to mewl and squirm underneath him, desperate for him to touch you between your legs.
“You’re so pretty when you’re begging for our cocks, amorina,” Theo drawled. He was holding one of the giant red bows you usually tied around the pillars on your balcony. Confusion briefly overtook your arousal, what was he doing with that? You weren’t left to wonder for long though—Draco helped you sit up and Theo aligned the bow with your breasts, pushing them up towards your collarbone when he wrapped the strings around your ribs and securely tied them at your spine. The somewhat rough texture of the bow’s velvet scraped your hardened nipples and you moaned with satisfaction.
You were their present, and you couldn’t wait for them to unwrap you.
“Sei bellissima.” [You’re beautiful] Theo smirked and grabbed your chin, angling your lips up to his. He kissed you with pure dominance, gripping the nape of your neck and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You kissed him back eagerly, getting lost in the taste of ingredients on his tongue and the warmth of his spit spilling into your mouth. You whined once again when he finally pulled away, your mind whirling with arousal too much to form any verbal protest. 
“I believe it’s time to open an early Christmas present, don’t you Draco?” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth at the dark lust swimming in his eyes. The coppery tang of blood mixed with the taste of them in your mouth, and you pressed your thighs together for any friction it might grant your aching cunt.
“I believe so, Theo,” Draco agreed, his large hands grabbing at your sides to guide you how they wanted you. “Get on your hands and knees, darling.” You gladly obeyed, wanting to please your boys so they would hurry up and please you.
“Brava ragazza,” [Good girl] Theo breathed, kneading your ass and dutifully lining up behind you. You could hear his belt jangle as he removed his slacks and you arched your back to give him better access to your swollen cunt. You were no better than an animal in heat—you needed them inside you. In front of you, Draco already had his pants off, his stiff cock standing proud against his toned stomach.
“Dray–” You leaned forward to lick up his shaft. His cock twitched at the sensation, and you proudly looked up to find his eyes lidded and his mouth parted with pleasure. Draco bundled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, loosely holding it out of your face with one hand. Leaving a kitten lick to the head of his cock, you sucked the tip into your mouth and moaned as the saltiness of his pre-cum danced along your tastebuds.
Suddenly, you felt Theo run his cock along your folds, quickly lubing himself before pushing into you in one solid motion. Your walls protested as the size of him stretched you out gloriously, before the pain turned to sheer ecstasy and a long moan escaped your lips. The force of his thrust forced Draco’s cock deeper into your mouth and the two boys bottomed out at the same time. They both groaned with pleasure, pulling out slowly before slamming back into you. Their rhythms soon synchronized, Draco thrusting into you whenever Theo’s onslaught to your cunt pushed you towards him.
♪ Ba-boom Ba-boom ♪ 
Theo’s fingers dug deliciously into your hips, guiding you onto his cock and filling the air with the sounds of skin slapping against skin alongside the festive music still playing across the room.
♪ Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me ♪
♪ Been an awful good girl ♪
Draco had your head pulled back by your hair, creating the perfect angle to hit the back of your throat and causing saliva to drip down your chin. You weren’t sure how much longer your quivering arms could hold you upright with Theo repeatedly pounding against your g-spot. The pressure in your core was becoming too much and your eyes were beginning to roll back from the intense pleasure.
♪ Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight ♪
As though he could sense your impending orgasm, Theo slid a hand around your thighs and began rubbing his forefinger against your clit. Their thrusts became sloppier as their own orgasms grew closer and the force of them slamming into you was causing the bow to slip from your boobs. You felt them bouncing back and forth, the velvet knot falling around your stomach and freeing your painfully full breasts.
“Merlin, you’re so fucking hot when you’re being fucked, F/n. Like our own little sex doll,” Draco growled, letting go of your hair to grab both of your tits like handles. Strands of your hair fell in your face, sticking to your spit and tears.
“Such a brava ragazza, letting us do whatever we want with her,” Theo agreed, landing a hard smack to your ass cheek. You gasped around Draco’s cock, feeling the pressure in your core finally coming undone. “That’s it, cara. Milk my cock. I want to fill you up like a pasticiotti.”
They were pulling you back and forth like a game of tug-of-war, chasing their own climaxes as you shook and turned to putty in their hands. Finally, Theo stilled and your cunt warmed as he released deep inside you. Draco pulled out of your mouth soon after, jerking his hand along his length until his cum showered your face and tongue—which you had stuck out in the hopes of tasting him.
Both men sagged back on their heels, appreciating the view of their girl fucked and painted in their release. “You’re such a pretty whore, amore mio,” [my love], Theo praised, kissing you endearingly once you’d slumped to your back. 
Draco pulled the big red bow back over your tits, placing a kiss to your stomach. “Definitely my favorite present under the tree, I might have to use it again.” Despite feeling absolutely spent, his words resparked the desire in your core. They could use you all they wanted—you loved being their pretty bow wrapped present.
It was the season, after all.
♪ Hurry down the chimney tonight ♪
♪ Hurry, tonight ♪
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rbfclassy · 9 months ago
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PU$$Y FAIRY! — NANAMI KENTO
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SYNOPSIS...the last thing you expected to happen after having sex with your co worker, nanami, was for him to become obsessed with your pussy
INFO...nanami x fem!reader, p in v, oral (f!receiving), semi public sex (?), nanami is a fiend for you, jerking off, dirty thoughts, missionary, breeding, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Nanami is usually a very tame and calm man, he knows how to keep his composure and doesn’t lose himself under pressure. That’s how others would describe him and that’s how he would describe himself, but just one feel and taste of your cunt changed everything in an instant. Each time he closes his eyes to sleep all he could envision is your cunt wrapped around him, squeezing him, milking him. Each time you pass by him in the office, he can’t help but remember the taste of you on his tongue, slurping up your juices and drinking them, eating you up like a starved man.
Ever since that night, he can’t stop thinking about you, his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining it was you fucking him, watching the way you cream around his cock. He cums so much each time, the sticky substance making a mess on his chest and hands, wishing he was filling up your hole, breeding your cunt and making you his. He’s never been so hot and bothered before, something about you just drives him crazy. He can’t stand another second of you ignoring him, acting like he didn’t have you screaming his name and clawing at his back while you came over and over again.
“Please, just let me taste her,” he begs. He’s on his knees in front of you, your legs spread as you sit on his desk, your tights ripped open and panties pushed to the side. Just your scent has him spiraling, salivating. Your fingers run through his blonde locks, gently pulling at them as guide his face closer and closer towards what he wants most. “Yes, please,” he mutters. His tongue darts out once he gets close enough, dipping between your wet folds, and now he’s completely lost in his head.
He shoves his face between your thighs, catching you off guard as his tongue dips into your sopping hole. His dick strains against the fabric of his slacks, tip leaking pre cum as he tastes you on his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling against your sensitive clit. He’s so eager, so greedy, pulling you back on his face each time you pull away from the overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck,” he moans, taking second to breathe. “Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” he pants.
He looks at you from his position, in love with the way your mouth hangs open and your moans spill from within. He doesn’t care if it gets messy, you rough up his hair. He’s been waiting weeks to have you at his mercy again. In minutes he has you cumming on his tongue, your thighs squeezing around his head as a string of curses fall from your lips. He pulls away and lands a feverish kiss upon your lips, cutting your moans short while your hands find their way to his belt, undoing it along with his pants.
Next thing you know, your legs are wrapped around his waist, skirt bunched up as he pounds into you. “You feel so fucking good, oh god,” he grunts, looking down at where the two of you meet, a white ring forming at the base of his cock. Your pussy was so warm and wet, so addictive. It was hard to keep himself from folding you in half and fucking you until you couldn’t walk.
Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him back in each time he threatened to pull out. He reaches a hand down, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. Your eyes roll back, mind foggy with pleasure. “Yes! Yes! I’m so close!” You cry out, sucking in a breath as your brows furrow. He keeps the same pace, knocking into your g-spot over and over until your legs start to shake. “Oh my god!” Your eyes clench shut. You come undone around him, Nanami holding you close to him as he fucks you through your orgasm.
“That’s it baby. Doing such a good fucking job for me,” he whispers in your ear. He feels your walls spasm around his dick, only adding onto his pleasure. He starts thinking back to all those nights he fantasized about cumming inside of you, all those lewd thought of filling you up and breeding you. He feels so dirty thinking about, but at the same time he doesn’t care. He wants nothing more than to see his cum oozing out of you. “Gonna let me cum in this pussy, huh?” His thrusts grow sloppier, teetering on the edge. He couldn’t wait any longer, letting his thoughts get the best of him as he pushes his hips against yours, hot spurts of sticky cum coating your walls.
You gasp at the sensation, caught by surprise but still so turned on. “Oh shit, baby,” he shudders. “Ah—fuck.” He thrusts into you once more before slowly pulling out. You spread your legs for him, feeling his cum leak out of your hole. “This pussy is always so good to me.” He pushes the cum back in with his thumb, making sure not to waste a drop. He grabs your chin, messily kissing you, tongue sliding against yours. Nanami hopes you know this won’t be the last time he’s cumming in you again.
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lustlovehart · 5 days ago
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Not a request. Are there any concerns with mh!mc having to delegate their affections with the many monsters lest jealousy and fighting commence? (Also your Skully posts were very cute and your Fellow was terrifying ty with love ❤️)
Jealousy Among Fiends
A/n: LMAO ik it wasn’t a request, and originally I was only supposed to reply with the first part, but then I had the funny image of Riddle glaring at fish and had to elaborate more! And ahhh, thank you for the Skully and Fellow appreciation!! After their events I really fell in love with them (≧◡≦) ♡
Pairings: [Monster!Twst] Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo, Skully x Reader
Warnings: Possesion/Obsession, Slightly Suggestive, Jealousy, Marking, Minor character murder, Violence, Reader says something both mean and truthful
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Ahahahahaha, definitely. Jealousy mostly happens within their areas. I discussed in this post about inter-sharing! But, it’s very difficult to settle these debates about your affection, while some are dealt with more calmly, there are certain grounds, or rather monsters, who are much harder to settle down. *Cough Octavinelle. In that particular dorm, if you’re not shared, expect for one one-on-one time to always coincidentally be interrupted. Even then, if it is shared, it’s always split because someone wants more time, leading to an endless cycle.
Meanwhile, all together…
While the majority of the cast is stuck in their respective haunting grounds, word does travel, and there are always lower, weaker monsters who gossip about different events. While, unlike canon where they all know each other, in Monster!twst, they hear rumors and vague communications with the other monsters. So while they don’t know each other as well, they have occasionally come across each other and drew their conclusions from gossip and their small moments of interaction.
Riddle’s in the process of consuming a new victim before his meal is interrupted by small harpies and their songs. They tend to fly over from Pomefiore. He’s told them several times to leave before they’re executed and he displays their heads as warnings. But, then he hears them sing a description that sounds a lot like you, and he halts himself from scaring them off.
“Yes, Yes! They were marked in bites and suction cups! Quite promiscious...“
“Even shouted at the perpatrators! ’Azul! Now I look covered in spots! Floyd... Quit biting me all the time! Jade, quit wrapping me in your tail! Are those three courting them—!?“
The creatures stop flying in circles, squeaking in fear at the ghost who floats between them, the all-famed Crimson Ghoul.
“Those three... did what?“ there’s a tinge of both anger, jealousy, and sadness in his tone. All much more terrifying at the chill the shoots down their spine. They’re swift to fly away.
When Riddle floats past Ace and Deuce, they’re about to have him settle the argument they’re currently having, but shut themselves up when they see how deep he glows scarlet.
Afterstory: Trey has Cater intercept Riddles's path, as nobody but him can stop the tyrant in his wispy form. When they finally reign him in from his bloody rampage, they’re not quite sure what it is that led to his state. Their questions only further when they spy Riddle waiting at the river near Heartslaybul, a horrifying scowl on his face every time marine life passes.
You would be all the way in Pomefiores haunted mansion when Leona overhears shadow imps whisper. He doesn’t care at first, but then he hears your name, and his ears perk up immediately.
“Did you see how close that Incubus’s lips were to their mouth?! They were practically an inch away from tonguing each other, ewww!”
“I know right?! They must’ve been practicing a... What was it...? Oh! Honeymoon! They looked so deeply into each other's eyes it was intense— eww maybe they’re doing that human thing where they dance in bed—“
The inferior beasts silently scream as their small bodies slowly fade into the sand, a painfully slow death approaching. Leona leans back into his throne, his tail flicking up, the blurry image of your face drawing itself into the sand.
Green eyes glow underneath the bandages that cover his face. The pretty sight is sullied by the appearance of smooth skin and horns smiling in your presence while his wings wrap around you.
He’s quick to stomp on his face.
... It’ll be fine if he leaves his tomb for a while. Especially if he can return with a pair of Incubus wings to display in his treasury.
Afterstory: Leona’s planned voyage is stopped by a struggling Ruggie who does not need his king fighting a very popular one-night stand simply because he almost kissed you. (He would go with him if it weren’t for the fact he doesn’t want Vil showing up to his favorite village and seducing all of them. If they move away from there and go to Vils house... How’s he gonna steal food from them??. )
It’s a bit harder for gossip to reach Azul, as his natural giant size, has him dwell much deeper in the depths than others. But when it does, it’s over for any sailors, fish, mermaids, and any living thing in or on the water. Giant tentacles will reach from the dark and take hold of any possible creature available. He can’t cry in water, but he can surely kill in water.
He first hears this talk when he’s grabbing hold of a ship, the sirens above laughing at the crew while they rest on a rock.
“Ah, they’re just as funny as that hunter everyone seems so obsessed with!“
“Oh my, What’s the drama there?“
“That Ghostly Tyrant from Heartslaybul, Riddle? Yeah, those two were caught sleeping in the same bed, practicall, they looked at each other so lovingly! They even tucked his hair back like a lover! It’s hillarious— Ah?!“
Before the sirens know it, their tails are seized by another tentacle, dragging them to the same depths those sailors are heading to. Azuls eyes glare at them before they enter his mouth.
...
Talk about the Ocatvinelle waters growing red and dangerous only grow with each passing day. Sometimes, even the shore is no longer safe, as there was talk of a giant tentacle grabbing people on the sands they’re meant to be safe on.
Azul appears from the water in his smaller form, ivory hair covered in crimson as tentacles shift to legs. He’s in a dazed state when he emerges, groggily taking a step forward.
... Perhaps, he should pay a visit to this hospital. When he’s done, he won’t be the one who needs healing though. He hysterically laughs, clutching his chest while imagining himself saving you from that asylum.
Afterstory: In his state, he’s more like a Zombie rather than a Slime-Kraken. The only thing that stops him from successfully reaching Riddle, is your sudden appearance. He regains awareness in his state, panicking when he notices how unkempt he is for you! Surely you think he’s pathetic now! He calms down when he feels your hand bring his face to yours, worriedly asking if he’s okay. You’re the only thing that halts him from rampaging that poor hospital... Luckily you were there.
Jamil first hears about such an intimate situation from… well, the culprit himself. He’s unsure if he should even be mad though, being angered by this certain… reaper, seems a bit disappointing. So, he just ignores his incessant murmurs, turning his tail and slithering away.
Idia mumbles with each swing of his scythe, reaping unfortunate souls who find part of themselves in Jamil's stomach. Just his regular job. He started disinterested with the dozens of bodies, complaining about how he could be in his own realm. But then he pauses, as the tips of his hair start turning pink. Before he knows it, the entirety of his head is flamed in a bright rose
“You know…” he talks to the corpses like they’re living humans to gossip with. He laughs deeply, “They put my head in their lap…” Jamil pauses in the dark hallway, slitted pupils turning to look toward the cloaked figure. “That’s a sign, right? They like me— Oh wait, what if it’s a human plot…! They’re gonna lure me in and murder me… I don’t know if that’s possible though…” Jamil sighs at his rambles, he should’ve known it was just the reaper being himself. “Ugh…! That’s probably it…! They have all those beasts after them too, I mean, half of them are known to be attractive for the sake of getting their food…! I can’t compete…” Jamil is back to returning to Kalims side. Idia is not someone to worry about when it comes to you.
Jamil looks down at the golden cuff on his wrist, his scales hidden on the skin trapped by the bracelet. You have a matching one, one that covers his mark on your skin. He really shouldn’t be worried about a reaper who doesn’t wanna do his job—
“But then again… do those guys get kissed on the cheek by them too…?”
The sound of hissing makes Idia jump, Jamil's slitted eyes glowing in the dark as he slowly moves his way toward the reaper. With a scream, Idia takes hold of his hoodie, turning swiftly before fading into the air.
Afterstory: The disappearance of travelers in Scarabia sands has only increased, leading to suspicion from villages, even you. In your worry about the snake's actions, you head immediately to them. To your disappointment, each missing case was indeed found there… As well as a diligently hunting Jamil, who waits eagerly in the corner for… something. You hear him whisper Idia’s name before turning around and leaving. That is not something you wish to pry into. You spend the rest of your time with Kalim, which honestly, might’ve made matters even worse.
Vil has seen multitudes of people and their pleasures, so whenever a meal of his is indulging in someone else, he really doesn’t care. Until it’s you. It seems, he forgot that you have other fiends in your proximity, who aren’t as hideous as most monsters are. He’s reminded about this unfortunate circumstance when he passes a pair of succubi, eagerly gossiping about the notorious, Mummy King of Savanaclaw.
“That man really is handsome. It’s too bad he’s already dead… I would’ve loved consuming his vitality!”
“Doesn’t matter to me if he’s dead! Though, he’s very smitten with that Monster Hunter… I heard one of the imps saw him pull them on top! Even wrapped them with his bandages… A scandalous sight of that human on his lap and marked, is truly—“ they’re quick to quiet down when the feeling of twin tails wrap around their throat, and a heavenly scent invades their nostrils, very different to the devil behind them.
He knows he’s imagining it, but Vil’s eye twitches when the smell of dust and decay is located, a further reminder of the current man of topic.
“I’m sorry, Leona… Did hm?” The pleasant smile on his face would’ve successfully cloaked his malice if it weren’t for the fact his tails were suffocating the fellow seducers. Once they answer him, he allows their bodies to drop, his heels clicking against the tile as he walks away. A single flap and door opens for him, one that appears in front of you as well.
“Vil…? What’re you doing here?”
“Making sure you don’t fall for that cretin.”
Afterstory: Vil appears before you, his face close to yours as he questions you. He’ll interview you on very intimate details, like what you want, what you desire, and what kind of qualities you wish for in a lover. Whether you answer him or not doesn’t matter, it’ll all end on the same final question. “Does Leona Kingscholar fulfill that for you?” be careful how you answer that, it’ll end with either Vil scooping you in his arms and finding the nearest private room, or… A visit to Leona’s tomb that ends with dust and decay.
Idia is a bit of a wildcard… his Jealousy either ends in him babbling into your neck about how much better those other guys are, or a visit to their grounds planting numerous death traps in hopes of collecting their souls sooner. The faster they’re out of life itself, the faster they’re out of yours specifically! And, he can do that simply because death isn’t something that constricts him like it does them.
Idia finally crawls out of the underworld, begrudgingly, as the reports of multiple corpses were reported, needing to be guided to the afterlife. When he arrives there, he tenses at the immediate recognition.
It’s Scarabia.
His mouth falls agape at the location, realizing the chances of this being an obvious ploy from that snake are very high. He’s swinging his scythe up and over his shoulder at a speed he’s never done before, the faster he’s gone, the less probability of seeing Jamil lunging at him.
He can feel phantom sweat accumulating on his forehead. While not truly there, he can imagine it, and that’s enough exertion for the day.
“Get out… Get out…!” he whispers to himself, urgency in his voice while he opens his exit for the new spirits. He stops when he notices a comforting sight in the corner of his eye.
It’s you!
… It’s you.
In Scarabia, wrapped in Jamil’s tail. Your finger on his fangs while you closely gather his venom, inches apart from each other.
The recently departed have a very awkward journey to the afterlife. Their guide isn’t silent and mysterious… He’s silent and gloomy.
Afterstory: Jamil sees a multitude of death traps in his domain. After your visit, he can’t seem to go 5 minutes without something attempting to send him to the afterlife. Seriously, where the hell is this coming from?! Then for a moment, he sees a flicker of a blue flame around the corner, laughing behind his hand before disappearing…
Jealousy is a weak beast's trait, it’s what Lilia taught him. So, he must not feel so entitled to things, lest he get carried away. Despite those teachings, Malleus still falls as easy prey to the feeling of envy, especially when it comes to you.
His case of jealousy is something different from everyone else’s. Not only were you the one who told him yourself, but it’s also not a recent event. So truly, he shouldn’t be envious at all but…
“It’s really funny actually, I called Rollo my husband so often, townspeople actually believed we were married!”
… He can’t help but allow the storms to sky with lightning at the knowledge, that there are people in this world who believe you’re married to anyone but him.
“I see…”
“We also have matching earrings, so that really didn’t help our case…”
“I see…”
“Even Crewel and Trein were approving of how often we were together, can’t say the same about Crowley though…”
“I see…” He jumps forward at the feeling of you smacking his stone horns forward. When he turns to face you, he notices the annoyance and your face and quickly frowns.
“Can you stop with the lightning Malleus.”
“Oh, forgive me.” He snaps his fingers at the sky lightning dissipating. But the clouds in the sky remain. You both stay in silence, awaiting the other to make a move in the moment. “So then, what is he to you, Child of Hunters?”
The silence you give him does not bode well, thunder coming back into the atmosphere. Answer anything but that, and he’ll be okay.
“… Someone I…” the way he stares at the ground but not at you, for once, is a telling sign of his current affliction. “… Won’t tell you about.” Your answer does not satisfy him, for it signifies there is something to tell, which is not what he wants.
The feeling of your head laying on his shoulder finally disturbs his moment of brooding, his moss-covered features turning to look at you.
“Rollo, is much to me. You’re a monster. You’re all monsters.” He doesn’t like where this is going. “And I hate it. But, it’s disappointing that you’re all something to me too.”… A pang in his a heart that shouldn’t be there at all, is felt.
He doesn’t know whether that something you consider all of them as, is good or bad. But, perhaps it’s better not to know.
Afterstory: You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder. Typically, he’d be over the moon at this advancement, especially since his body isn’t the classic material you’d wish to lay on. Yet, he feels a bit empty at the conversation. They’re all something to you, just as Rollo is. Yet, they’re different in your eyes. He gets the basic understanding but still doesn’t truly understand. Which is an issue, because his solution to this is to just make everyone else into nothing so then he can be your only something. Starting with Rollo.
Rollo is the worst case of jealousy among all of them. To be fair, his jealousy was still there when you were with him, always glaring at any suitors who attempted to court you. But now, even as he’s miles of land and sea apart from you, it has only gotten worse.
He comes across these rumors when he’s tending to his plants, taking greater care of your particular favorites in his garden. At first, when he sees the miniature devils, he sighs and pulls out his dagger with ease, ready to hunt them on the spot.
“Did you see that Draconia Gargoyle? Him and that hunter were on a dateee, Ahahaha! Grosss, they’re gonna kiss and get moss cooties!”
“Hahaha!!! And that old stone’s talkin’ about marriage!! Ring and everything!! Doesn’t he know a statue can’t marry a human?! Haha— Ha…?”
The two little demons stop their gossip when the feeling of impending doom looms over their tiny bodies. Before they can run away, a blade swiftly falls down on their tails, halting any chance of escape.
“That… Thing, did what with them?” Rollo’s naturally soft voice comes out strained in his inquiry, a testament to the current emotion he displays. The two of them shake their heads, tiny voices trying their hardest to make it seem like a joke. “It doesn’t matter. What was he doing to them? Did he really take them out on a date? Did he… really touch them?”
The little demons shiver in horror at the way it seems like his eyes turn in despair.
“… If he did, then there is no room for forgiveness.”
They both pause at this familiar phrase. There’s no way…
“You’re Rollo—!”
Rollo spread the ashes into his soil, delicately mixing the compound into one. The gentle smile on his face is entirely unlike the man he was a few minutes prior.
“A few less demons for your cruel world,” he waters the plants, his finger lifting a single leaf, “Don’t fret (Name), I will burn every one of them down if it means your smile lasts forever.” Rollo’s head turns up to feel the sun on his pale skin.
The light is blocked by a decaying gargoyle.
He’s leaving Sages Quarter, weapon in hand and ready to destroy every monster and gargoyle he sees.
Afterstory: The only way to stop Rollo’s current plan to end all monster lineages, is by reminding him that you would hate him for the rest of all time. He’s essentially stuck between the idea of protecting you and having you despise him for the rest of time, or not and letting you be seduced by these heinous creatures. Which is why it’s Crowley’s go-to plan when confronting him! “If you do it, they’ll never love you again! Bye-bye to work husband!” He immediately sits down. But with each day, this thread of patience continues to tear, until he eventually breaks.
Skully, is… a sad type of jealous. He really does wish to respect your wishes! But everytime he sees you the overwhelming urge to just kiss each part of your skin with his lips consumes him. However, it halts when he seems someone else has the same mutual feeling.
“… What’s that?”
His bony finger will travel over an empty patch of skin, but the way he pouts makes it seem like there’s something there.
“Uhm… My cheek?”
“No, the thing on it…”
You hand traces over the spot, not feeling any change in texture, neither do you remember anything on your face prior. So… what exactly is he talking about?
“Skully I’m not too sure—“ you’re interrupted by the feeling of his thumb aggressively wiping the spot clean. Then, his lips on your face, his expression in full view when he comes back to.
“There, better.” You don’t have the chance to question him before his lithe body is twirling you around in a ball room esque dance. For a moment he pauses the pirouette you’re in to quickly pluck something out of your hair. “Now, it’s really better. You’re truly perfect.”
He’s back to his romantic escapades once more afterwards.
It’s only when he’s sleeping peacefully in your lap, the bony spider legs on his back limp, do you notice what he did. The clearing in the forest you just danced in, reflects a single white feather on the floor.
You finally connect the dots. The spot he kissed on your cheek was the exact place Neige placed one on as well. No wonder he was so thorugh on scrubbing your skin…
Be careful if you fall asleep while he’s on your lap. In reality, he’s only closing his eyes so he can savor the moment to its fullest! The moment you fall prey to slumber though, he’s up looking over the places Neige left any marks on, and covering them with his own affections. Any place he had a feather hidden, he’ll cover it with his own prettily weaved web!
Only the best for you.
Afterstory: He was able to successfully mask his sadness at this mark this first time. But, if you come back to him again marked up like that, he doesn’t know if he can do it again… So please don’t enter his web with the mark of an angel! Why do you need that when you’re already one! He thinks you should just throw that angel away…
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A/n: Once again, Ik this wasn’t a request, but I couldn’t help myself (≧◡≦) ♡
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redocity · 2 months ago
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Well, we know that Buck thrives off of praise. So imagine him during sex!!! God he'd be a whimpering mess, and just begging you for everything and anything oml
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LIBIDO — E.BUCKLEY
Buck’s a sex freak.
evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.4k | smut | masterlist.
WARNINGS | this post is 18+, MDNI. kitchen sex (bc buck is a freak), unprotected piv (freak buckley), begging + mild praise kink (buck obviously bc freak), buck eats his own cum off his fingers (freakkkk), buck is just a sex fiend what can i say?
a/n — this is kinda mid, sorry 😔
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You had half the mind to submit Buck’s libido as an object of study to Psychologists. Or Biologists, or Sexologists, or honestly whoever would take him.
Because Evan Buckley was rabid when it came to his sexual urges, and it was honestly baffling, even after so many years being on the receiving end of it.
The second you stepped through the front door, Buck was on you in less than a second. His lips were on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, and he was grinding his hips against yours.
He practically forced you up against the kitchen island, his hands roaming down your body; you could feel just how hard he was through his uniform.
“I need you.” he mumbled huskily against your lips. He was already panting as his hands moved to the hem of your pants, pulling at them impatiently. “Need you now.”
He spun you around so that your chest was against the counter, pressing his front against your back. You could feel his growing erection nudge against your rear as he continued to kiss and nip at your neck and you had to take a moment to ask yourself how you even got here.
You’d literally done absolutely nothing, and yet Buck was acting like you’d stripped naked mid shift just to taunt him into a reaction.
“Been thinking about you all day.” He muttered, his hands moving to unbutton your pants, “Can't wait. Need you now.”
He made quick work of the bottom half of your uniform, pulling everything from the waist down out of the way, leaving you exposed to him.
And at some point, he'd apparently managed to undo his own pants, because next thing you knew, you felt the tip of his erection against your thigh, slick and hard and leaking.
“Gonna make you feel so good. You have no idea—“ Buck groaned, rubbing the head of his hard cock against your entrance, “I was going crazy imagining you all day. Couldn't get you out of my head, god please babe— Need you so bad.” He said with a desperate tone, his voice low and gravelly. “Need to be inside you right now.”
Who were you to refuse him that? When he was so eager and desperate for you?
“I'm all yours.” you gasp out, and any and all restrain completely disappears from his rational mind.
He slides into you in one fluid movement, a low moan escaping from his throat. “Fuck...” Buck groans, the stretch almost too much for you. “You’re so tight, baby—”
He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust around his size, before slowly rolling his hips into you, his fingers digging into your hips. “So good for me.” He moans, his breath hot against your ear. “So good, so good—”
Buck increases his pace almost too eagerly, shifting from a slow rolling pace to pistoning his hips into you. He's panting as he grips onto you, his moans growing louder.
“God, you have no idea how good you feel—” He gasps out. “How perfect you are—”
He shifts, angling his hips just slightly to aim for that spot, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Right there, baby?” he groans breathlessly when he hears you cry out, almost like he’s seeking reassurance. “You like that? Yeah? Is it good for you?”
“Yeah— yes—” you gasp out, you’re gripping at the countertop, his name on your lips. “Buck—”
He lets out a deep moan at hearing you say his name, his pace not slowing down. “God, yes, baby, please keep saying my name like that—”
His pace is becoming frantic, his thrusts losing their rhythm, he can’t seem to get enough of you. “Need you. Need you so bad—” He moans out.
“Feel so good—” his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving against your back. He’s starting to lose control.
“Please.” He moans, “So tight, baby, so good for me—”
He's getting close, and you can tell just how close he is from the way he's moving, the way he's biting and sucking at your neck, the way his breathing is becoming more and more erratic.
“You close? You gonna come for me, baby?”
He's pumping into you faster now, his rhythm all but gone.
His grip on you is almost painful—but it's a good pain. “I need you to come for me, please—” He pleads. “Need to make you feel good, need to— god, baby, please—” He's thrusting frantically, he's desperate, but he's also so careful with you, making sure to make you feel just as good as him.
He's so close, he can't hold back any longer.
“Please, please, please—” he groans, his voice almost desperate.
“Please, baby, I'm so close—” his voice is almost pleading. “I'm gonna come, baby, I'm so close-”
His thrusts are becoming erratic, he's losing control, he's on the edge. “Please, please, please—” he's moaning into your ear. But he's holding back, he's not going to finish until you do. He's too desperate to make sure you feel just as good as he does.
He shifts his hips again, aiming for that spot, and you're practically seeing stars. “Is that good? Is that it, baby? You're gonna come for me, right? Right—”
“Yeah, yeah —” you manage to gasp out, “Please, I'm so close—” You can tell he's holding back, his muscles tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Come for me, please—” he’s begging, and it's driving you over the edge, “I need to feel you—”
“Please—” you gasp out, your orgasm growing closer and closer, “I'm gonna—”
“Come for me—”
And then he thrusts into you one last time, and that's all it takes to send you over the edge.
“Yes—” he moans when he feels you clench around him, “God, yes—”
He's right behind you, unable to hold back any longer. “Please, baby—” he gasps, “Can I—”
“Buck—”
“Please, baby, I need to—” he’s begging, “Inside— can I—” But you know exactly what he's asking, and you're nodding your head, giving him the go-ahead.
“Oh thank god—” He groans. “Thank you, thank you—” He thrusts into you a few more times, before stilling, his body shaking as he comes inside of you.
“Oh god—” he moans, his voice barely above a whisper, “thank you, thank you—” He's panting, his face buried into your shoulder.
He's holding onto you like he's afraid you'll disappear, his body warm against your back. “Feel so good, baby, so good—” he mumbles into your skin, his breathing still erratic.
His orgasm is so much, that despite his cock plugging you full, his release seeps through the gaps to run down your thighs anyhow.
“So good, so good—” He repeats, his voice shaky, he’s panting. He slowly pulls out of you, his legs unsteady and his mind spinning as he watches the pool of cum that follows out of you and onto the counter.
A shiver of pleasure runs through him, seeing you like this, seeing what he's done to you, and he pulls you close, holding you against his chest, his heart still racing.
“So good,” he murmurs, planting kisses onto your throat, your neck, your collarbone. “God, baby, you're so good. So perfect.”
He lifts you up, sitting you on the countertop, your legs splayed wide while he stands between them. He looks down, at the mess he's made of you, and it’s almost enough to make him hard all over again.
His fingers move instinctively to catch the drips of him that escape you, pushing it back into you with little resistance.
“Mmm,” he moans, his voice still gruff with sex, “That’s a pretty picture, baby.”
He brings his fingers up to his mouth to lick the excess off of his fingers, tasting himself, tasting the mix of both of you.
He groans, his eyes never leaving you as he does, “God you're perfect.”
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chlmtsdoll · 5 months ago
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I WAS AN ANGEL
౨ৎ Paring: ballerina!reader x older!Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig
౨ৎ Summary: it’s winter and your on vacation at a cabin locked away with Art and Patrick. Spending the weekend teasing the men till they’re wrapped into your alluring nature leads to you getting them exactly where you want
౨ৎ Word count: 10k - well yes, ur girl went crazy !
౨ৎ Warnings: smut ! threesome, p in v (unprotected) sex, age gap (reader early 20’s) older!Art and Patrick, inexperienced!reader, eventually filthiest filth, sugar baby!reader, mentions of Tashi, pet names, smoking (cigs), oral (m) receiving, fingering, porn with a lot of plot, petite!reader, size kink, corruption if you squint (it’s def there), teasing, fluff, a tad angst, so much praise kink, title based off Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Rey 🤍
౨ৎ Part one | two | three + more
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The wind outside was frosted as it hit against the sealed windows of the cabin you’d been staying in for the weekend with no other than the only person you’d want to be cuddled up with on a cozy cabin trip in the hike of the woods on a winter like this one — accompanied by his best friend of course, Art and Patrick.
Tashi, making time for her off weekends of freedom being an underwhelming three times a year, was away with her daughter Lily on a girls scouting trip not too far by where you’d all been staying at in such a luxurious rental cabin.
And it really was the highest of class.
With eight bedrooms, each offering it’s own fireplace and balcony lookout to the fields of mountains and trees surrounding you. A beautiful avalanche of white dust covering trees was the scenery all around. You got to spend a week doing absolutely nothing but lying around the gorgeous place, and although the image of Tashi being uncomfortably out in the wilderness trying with all her dignity to get a signal to check her emails was a priceless sight to see — you knew that scoring such a win as to be stuck in winter paradise with two men near godly looking and over six foot walking around twenty four seven, was an opportunity you were never going to take advantage of.
It had been you and them watching movies all week. From silly romcoms down to chilling horror films that earned you the touch of Arts protective arm surrounding you as a shield, baking sweets with the blonde that was really overall unnecessary since the dozen of cupboards had been pre-stocked with all the foods and treats you could imagine before your arrival. But spending that time with him, laughing, and getting the tidy place all messy with cookie batter and themed frosting was worth it anyways. Getting closer than close. Falling head over heels for a man that had been someone else’s all while engaging in the most pompous wealthy people actives your friends back at the academy would of killed one another for. It was chimera.
And when it came to Patrick, although the two of you couldn’t quite be called the best of friends — Tashi had thought it would be better off if she reversed her approximation of keeping the two of you as separate as possible. Instead, you started spending even more time together. (Preoccupied of course) but settling the wall of any jealousy or tension between you both and the couple. And of course it probably would never be fully clear skies when Patrick was a man of such fiend for rivalry — even if for you, you’d just wanted him to like you deep down. And with the occasional bickering and obvious strive for Art and Tashi’s attention, you could now say the kinship between you and the tennis player wasn’t all bad for the time being.
It had been sunset when you were tidying up in the far end of the house that had been all yours as you glanced at yourself in the mirror of the grand bathroom. Bath tub behind you so large it could fit a party of ten at least.
You were braiding your hair into two dainty braids and your fingers worked quickly as you tied knots into little bows on the ends of your hair. Perfect and precious as ever you attempted yourself to be, getting ready for a dip in the hot tub on the patio Art had asked if you if you wanted to join him and Patrick — so of course you rushed to throw on your bikini. And just beneath you in the grand kitchen area, Art had been getting ready with his best friend to met you there themselves.
“Please ? I just wanna fuck her with the tutu on at least,” Patrick boasted to Art as he had been trying his hardest to bluntly ignore his friends comments about you, that had been in his perfect fashion of light hearted vulgarity.
“No.” Art replied giving the man nothing but an unbothered side eye as he searched the wet room they’d been in for a couple towels for the three of you, or at least you and himself since Patrick had been using the same one the entire time you’ve been there so far by choice.
“Come on,” the brunette laughed as he pushed Art in a way that was all too familiar to him, grinning widely as he burrowed in the fantasy of having solicited intercourse with you while his dear friend observed. “We’ll be stuck in this cabin together for the entire weekend, it’s bound to happen. You’ve been gettin’ virgin pussy all this time. I know you’re dying to share with me..”
“You say things like that and wonder why she doesn’t want to come near you.” Art chuckled, he shook his head at Patrick’s ignorance, “and you’ll probably just scare her away from wanting to participate in anything involving sex ever again, man. I just won’t let you overwhelm her, she’s still getting used to.. y’know-”
“Fucking?”
“Yes.”
“Well, your right, she’s only fucked you. So technically she’s still a virgin.” Patrick joked only to get under the blondes skin even more, and Art rolled his eyes away from Patrick’s obvious smirk.
“I could turn’er into a whole new woman.”
“You’re not touching her.” Art shrugged as he glanced at Patrick who wouldn’t give away the stupid grin on his face of wanting to cause nothing but foolery.
“I think you’re scared after I’m done with her she won’t wanna go back to you… so that’s why you gotta do it with me.” Patrick pokes Art in his exposed chest as they’d both been in nothing but their swim trunks. He looked down at the finger on his skin and then back up at Patrick’s face with a loose expression. Falling unconvinced.
“You know you wanna fuck her with me. See how she’ll react from the outside when someone else gets to make her cum.. it’ll be just like old times.” Patrick’s tone was laced with poison and desire the blonde would try to fight off till he ultimately couldn’t, grimace all over Patrick’s face as he described the image of you spread out for the two of them to enjoy, and Art would defend cutting the conversation short in response to an obvious tent forming in his trunks.
Art looked Patrick in the eyes as he called out for you,
“Baby, are you ready?”
“Yeah! Just a second!” You answered in chime.
Patrick couldn’t help but laugh in all seriousness at the fact that he had been this close to getting Art to submit to his desires and let him get his hands on you. When you had been so devoted to Art, and you had him wrapped around your finger, there was no way he didn’t think he couldn’t loosen the screws just enough by the time this little trip came to an end. He just had to keep trying, at the end of the day, it was all a game to him.
“keep dreaming. And grab the beer while your at it.” Art gave the man a generous pat on the back and sighed lightly with a fond but challenging smile as he walked around Patrick to the back door.
When you had been pleased with your attire, you made your way down to the patio where you knew the two boys had been waiting for your arrival, in nothing but a strapy pink bikini underneath a bulky robe, you pushed the doors open to the nature and you’d been immediately hit with the brisk winter air — so thankful for the robe you’d decided to throw on, you scurried your way quickly to the steaming hot tub, and Art and Patrick’s eyes met your miniature figure skipping over.
“Cold, cold, cold, cold!” You pleaded as the air made you shake, and with a soft grin that turned into a laugh Art stood from the water he’d been adjacent in with Patrick to help you step into the tub, doing so you’d slipped your robe from your shoulders and let it fall as your smooth, shivering skin and dainty swimwear was revealed to the two.
“Careful, it’s pretty hot” Art chuckled as he held your delicate hand to guide you into the water.
“Good.” You breathed out as you settled in slowly, arms wrapped around yourself from the coldness and the steam hit your skin at the perfect rate — making you warm up from outside in. You let out a soft sigh as your body had released it’s tension. “Ahh”
Art’s sideways smirk was stuck to his face as he watched your adorable gesture already change the environment when you made your way over — and he couldn’t say he didn’t catch the eyes Patrick had been giving your oblivious state as you brought yourself to the two men in the littlest yet flattering bikini they’d maybe ever seen. Smile on your face like you’d hadn’t know how goddamn phenomenal you looked right then. Art still had a hand out to you as you’d both settled into the almost boiling water at this point, florescent lights from the jets hitting each of your faces even under the gloominess of the sky.
“Is that the set I got you ?” Art grinned at the way your bikini top had decorated your chest in a painfully perfect way. Dior. Your smile has been shy but girlish, you nodded coyly but with a soft giggle. You’d been waiting for him to notice notice that you were being patient on the perfect opportunity to bring it out of your wardrobe.
“Yeah. You like?” Your smile had widened as the blonde couldn’t have looked prettier right then, hair damp from the steam of the tub that had been hovering the water, chest glistening in the most stunning way which made made his pecks look godly and a certain boyishness look on his face.
Your eyes glanced over how it matched the smile on his peach colored lips.
“Like? I love it and you know that.” Art’s tone was low and laced with adoration mixed with a hit of lust rising. He held a hand out to you, eyes filled with nothing but intentions of getting you as close to him as possible. You’d been too far in his opinion, even being in the medium sized hot tub that had the three of you in an acute triangle. “Come closer baby doll,” Art asked of you and you couldn’t stop blushing already when you slid closer to him in the water. Smile plastered to your face as the man took you in with his muscular arm over your shoulder.
Eyes lightly hooded as he looked down at the way you fit snug in his side and he had to stop himself from biting into your shoulder as a way to show his affection. Just your sent was overwhelming him.
From the opposite end, Patrick had been sitting quite still as he observed the two of you. Elbows hanging off the rim of the tub and he held a cold beer in hand. His green irises switched between you and the blonde as if you were purely entertainment as you basked in each other’s warmth that had been heightened from the temperatures around you.
Patrick could almost feel the way Art felt you. The way you wanted him.
He’s been trying to figure out what made it so easy for you to stroll through the cabin around two men feverishly much older than you, so innocently without a care or censor in the world going off in your head. — and not just that, but you’d hardly ever wore clothing that actually covered you up. This has been the most revealing Patrick had seen you, but it wasn’t all shock when you’d merely always been in shorts that were just right off of having your ass cheeks on display — along with the smallest mini tennis skirts and tops so tight it was hard to imagine how’s you even get yourself into them. He didn’t know if there’d been a dip in your brain or what, but he almost wondered if you acted the way you did on purpose. Like a lost lamb in heat for only the sake of getting their dicks hard and uncomfortable enough for your own pleasure. Or for Art at least.
Maybe you could of just been playing slut like most girls your age did when it came to older men. Whatever it had been, Patrick knew to have you all figured out ahead of time.
“Save some space in between, yeah?” Patrick had noted out in reply of your and Arts closeness, only grin spreading across his lips as he raised the glass of beer to them slowly as if he’d been some threat you both should stay aware of.
And he loved that.
You looked over his way from Arts peering eyes on you with a soft blush. Art had looked at Patrick and remembered what they’d been sipping on to offer you,
“Did you want a beer ? I told Patrick to grab the cold ones.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Patrick, pass her one.” Art eyed his friend as the pack of six had been hanging out on the bar beside the tub, but before the brunette could speak up, you stood from the curb of the small pool.
“Don’t worry, I got it !” you smiled at both boys, but instead they had immediately gone to watch the droplets of water fall from your angel like body. And as you walked to exit the hot tub, you had to maneuver pass Patrick, which was a brief moment of his eyes just inches away from making contact with your breast being nearly one with his face. A shy kind of tint in your eyes as you climbed out and the water you carried splashed on the man while his eyes watched you in complete veneration. Only moving over a tad when he’d remembered you’d been literally trying to get out of the enclosure. And Art only watched, too mesmerized before he noticed Patrick had been staring just as much.
But even jealousy didn’t over take him right then when he saw the way your body was moments away from caressing the man, it was something more of yearning that took the lead.
You could of sworn you heard one of the men curse under their breath when you tuned your back to reach the table for the cold drink. Your ass had been of viewing now and you tried your best to hide an all knowing little smirk before you got back to them. Returning, Art didn’t even think twice before he reached for the can in your hands to open it up for you. The metal cracked with a pop and Art met your eyes again with a small grin as he handed it back to you.
“Merci” you giggled softly, as you relaxed beside him once again. Thinking to yourself before sitting comfortably, “y’know… there’s something I need to ask you both that I’ve been wondering for a while.”
With your delicate but filled, choice of words — both men had sat a little straighter in the steaming water at your voice, hanging on to your every note already as Patrick’s leafy eyes scanned your figure and Art looked down at you with anticipation for whatever had been on your mind.
“Yeah? What is it, doll face?” Patrick’s tone was low as he met your gaze for a brief second before you looked away with a coy scoff,
“Well… back at the academy a lot of the girls would constantly talk about it and - as embarrassing as it is - I just was never around boys much in my upbringing. Like ever. Most dance schools are pretty strict about that where I come from. So, I never got closure or a real answer. But you guys are boys...”
You couldn’t help but let out light girlish laughter after the hint to the male dominance of the atmosphere, and both Art and Patrick had matched your gesture with the sound of their laugher filling the air as they listened in on the way you spoke. It had been obvious they were both fighting the same urge to trail their vision to your exposed chest but you just pretended not to notice.
“So like, how do guys know when we’re ovulating?”
Art had coughed on the frozen beer that had been half way down his throat by the time your words fully got out, and Patrick’s grin only widened before he let out a louder laugh.
“Well-”
“Patrick- can definitely answer that one for you, right Pat?”
Art narrowed his eyes at his best friend sitting across from him in quick notion and your eyes flicked from the blonde to the brunette just as fast. His chuckle only fading some as he glanced back at you
“I mean, it’s more of a senses thing.”
“Like intuition, or?”
“A smell.”
“Oh-” you were slightly taken back by his answer as you snickered nervously. “That’s only a tad bit jarring I guess”
“It honestly comes with the package. Just a normal male thing, unless your consciously looking for it. I myself have a natural talent if you will.” Patrick’s smug was heavy as he educated you and you nodded in agreement, which made Art want to roll his eyes on instant.
“Because of the testosterone?”
“Likely.”
“Is it like that for you as well? Can you smell it?” Your wide eyes landed on Art again as you spoke in innocence that was almost too easy on the ears, the blonde met your eyes as he just lightly fondled with his ear in a fretful manner.
“Well, I- uh, it’s pretty much a normal thing. Like Patrick said. Not really an on or off switch.” The muscular but lean man chuckled and Patrick leaned forward as he watched.
“Art has you and Tashi around twenty four seven so he’s probably immune.”
“No. Not immune, overstimulated? Maybe.”
You watched between them as Patrick kept a sly smile on his face and Art had remained calm throughout the sultry conversation.
“Have you ever used it on me? Like- before we have sex or something..?” you peered up at Art through your lashes and Patrick had raised a brow at your new assertiveness — Art only tried to keep a cool state not too get too flustered as he sunk farther into the tub,
“Honestly babe, I can tell just from looking at you mostly. Like- how you look in those extra mini tennis skirts Tashi has you wear. The way your eyes sparkle a little more when you look up at me… When you’re being naughty.” Art went in to playfully nibble on your neck and you let out a string of giggles at the tickle off it as you fought him off with charm. But the blonde only grinned more as he pulled you in by the waist and he peppered kisses from your neck to your lips.
“I’d offer to say get a room but I don’t mind a little show.” Patrick inhaled deeply and when you turned to glance at him, hand staying on Arts jaw, you could see he had that idiotic look of arousal behind his not so hidden smirk as he sat man spread across from you both.
“My god. You’re such a perv.”
“Yeah? You love it, you’re a perv too.”
“I am not. I’m a girl,” you defended.
“And? Girls can be pervs also.”
“Or maybe you’re just projecting.”
“Art, your little play thing is talking back….” Patrick looked past you to his friend that was as used to the two of you naturally falling into bickering as anything else.
“Shut up.” You laughed, sending a light eye roll the brunettes way.
“You shut up.” He spat back at you like a tennis ball as he leaned up on the edge of the tub, broad shoulders flexing to catch himself and he reached for his pack of cigarettes. The man used his lips to pull a stick from box, he stared up at you with a glimpse of darkness in his pupils. “Want one?”
“Really?.. yeah.” You replied with chipper as you easily lifted yourself from Arts lap.
“Baby..” the blonde declared in a soft but alarming voice while he watched you stand, his hands slipped from your hips and he lost you to Patrick’s side of the pool with ease.
It was known to the two men that you hadn’t ever smoked before, and Art always had his dad instincts constantly lingering in the back of his mind. He couldn’t help it. He never wanted you participating in anything that wasn’t necessarily the best for you, and especially since Tashi would surely be against the idea of it at all costs. It was part of the reason why she wanted Patrick away from you — his influence and easy persuasion always getting to the best of any of the girls he could mess with. So Art knew how easy it was for you to let up to him.
“I just wanna try. Please?” You pleaded, and Art couldn’t say your pretty wide doe eyes and shape all too heavenly for him to deny didn’t steer him away from giving you a clean no.
“Yeah Art, she wants to try..” Patrick’s voice mimicked yours and he started to slowly but surely show his friend a sly smirk which Art replied with a daring look. You’d now been seated beside Patrick and Art had sighed out a deep breath as he nodded you off speculatively, which you then smiled excitedly in regard.
“You’ve really never done this before?”
“No.”
“What have you done?”
Patrick couldn’t help but poke you, and when you hissed with a soft smack to his broad arm that had been intimidatingly large. The man chuckled. You shook your head playfully which also released a few droplets of water from your braids and Patrick observed how your eyes had searched him from up close — he wondered if this was how Art felt when he looked at you. All senseless with a newfound kind of vulnerability like he’d be willing to your every need. But Patrick being who he was naturally, knew how to restrain from that part of himself and kept a mostly dominant state even at your first fruits. He flicked open his lighter and passed you a cigarette which you held with mostly confusion of what to do next.
“Don’t give her a full one.” Art narrowed at his friend.
“Alright, alright,” Patrick furrowed his brows as he exclaimed with his own cig hanging from the side of his lips.
The corners of your mouth inched up into a small simper as you watched the two men exchange with consideration of protection over you. Art remained a safety net always even if Patrick had challenged that assertiveness to him. And as much as Patrick was a hard case you didn’t underestimate your power to have him just as softened as Art was when it came to you.
“You can share with me.” The brunette notified you and you watched as he lit the end of the stick effortlessly and cupped the fire away from you with his ravishingly large hands. In one swift motion he passed the burning substance to you, which you inspected before your eyes met his face again — slight worry crossed you mind. But you didn’t let it show, “inhale that.”
You did inhale it. But it happened much faster than you expected because when the smoke hit the back of your throat, you began to cough instantly.
“No, no, no you have to exhale it eventually,”
“Yeah, because you totally gave her proper directions, Patrick.” Art huffed as he leaned up from attention to your coughing with growing aggravation at what Patrick had lured you into. Already regretting his notion to agree. Patrick shrugged with open arms and he furrowed his brows.
“Fuck off. I’m not good with kids.”
“I’m not a kid.” You responded when your coughs had dialed down and you swayed the smoke coming from your lungs away from you.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Patrick replied in a snarky attitude and you half groaned half whined at his annoying remarks, which had lead you to doing nothing but choking on air, literally. And it made Patrick have to refrain from letting out a chuckle because he’d known Art kill him.
“Relax. Just try again and remember not to inhale it too far. Just hold it in the back of your throat a little then release it.”
This time you did what he told you more considerately. Inhaling the smoke temporarily, then pushing it out with ease and Patrick watched you. His observation quickly turned into dilated pupils and a grin that liking spoke of mischief had widened across his face again.
“Atta’ girl.” He praised, and you supported a cheeky smile.
You held the cigarette in your fingers as you repeated the same all while keeping eye contact with the tennis player and he could of fallen trick for your soft but glorious bambi eyes right then.
“How cool do I look?” You let a light giggle slip from your lips after you exhaled the smoke once again and passed the substance back to the man and he wondered if you or Art could sense the way his desire had basically broadened in the last twenty seconds.
And as Art watched you both smile in lust from each others presence on the other side of the tub, he shifted as a perplex expression rested on his face. He observed the eyes you gave Patrick that he knew all too well. Pleading and filled with elite burning desire that he knew was just seconds away from setting Patrick off — he knew he had to get into stop it somehow.
He just didn’t like to be left out.
“It’s getting dark out, sweetheart. Why don’t you head inside and start setting up for s’mores ? I’ll come set the fire in a bit.”
Your eyes had trailed away from their fixture on Patrick to settle on Art when his voice came ruling in, But Patrick was still looking at you.
“Okay, yeah.” You said energetically as you lifted your legs out of the water that were wet from the knees down, fondly smiling at the two men before you grabbed your robe to head inside.
And when the patio door shut with your exit, Patrick ran his hands over his rugged half beard in a pace.
“Fuck, Art. She wants to fuck me.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m serious. She told me. She wants to fuck us.”
“When did she tell you this?”
“Just a second ago. With her eyes.”
“Okay. So, she didn’t tell you that.”
Patrick huffed out and fixed the prominent bulge through his trunks that was growing fairly uncomfortable. Art looked down to notice and let out a soft chuckle of not very much surprise since he’d known the man sitting across from him like the back of his hand. Always just on the verge of needing to fuck whatever pitty excuse of emotions he had out somehow.
“For fucks sake, you’re unbelievable.”
“Whatever.” The man scoffed as he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his hips in a hurry. “She’s just as much of a slut as I am, and I’m gonna find out.”
Art watched as his best friend exited from the pool, leaving a splash to hit Art in anxiousness to get to you. And Art scurried to dry off just to follow after him.
It was almost an hour that passed since you’d all been spaced in the living area as the dim lights situated the room in a way that was all too torrid for the atmosphere at once, but you certainly weren’t complaining.
Art had been by the fireplace as he messed with the wood for a while till a brightening flicker over took the large cape and a small flame spread into a huge one in just a few seconds. You’d been sitting on the floor only a few inches away as you were putting a couple marshmallows on sticks (slipping a few chocolates in your mouth here and there) and when you heard the crackle of the fire come from Arts side of the room you glanced up at him with an impressive expression taking over your face and you clapped graciously.
Art couldn’t help but grin at your sweet gesture to which he found you all the more beautiful under the warm tones of the once cold room. You shook your head softly as the smile on your face hadn’t dropped when you focused back on what you’d been doing.
It was rather darker where Patrick sat on the couches not too far away as his forest like eyes watched the two of you basically flirt in secret code. He would usually find it all too soft for himself maybe, and to him, you’d just been a pint sized cheer squad for every time Art dropped a penny.
It was cute, he guessed.
What Patrick was more focused on was the way your eyes flickered to glance at him every so often.
Spotless and filled with attempt to say something. Anything. Just from the clear tension in the room, and as quite as it was — the brunette had to admit he was getting bored.
“Alright.” Patrick groaned as he stretched to lean up from his seat and your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the much taller man, seemingly giant from where you’d been on the rug, march over to where you’d been settled. Calmly but with a smoothness getting close enough to your face that he could read the quick nervousness fill your senses as your eyes searched him questionably, and Patrick’s own eyes scanned your rose tinted robe that you’d slung on, half fallen from your shoulder as he scoffed to himself.
“Just tell me. Do you want to fuck me and Art, or not?”
It came out as a mutter. But Patrick wasn’t the quiet type even attempted in the slightest. Art certainly heard and his eyes had snapped to where the two of you shared breaths with an immediate hardened expression.
“What the fuck, Patrick?”
“Just let her answer.” The other man spat back. And you fought not to bite down on your bottom lip as both men stare each other down. And with an irritated sigh, Art put his vision on you.
“You don’t have to answer him. Patrick just can’t control his dick — and that’s not your problem.” Art spoke sharply as his eyes flickered to the darker haired man who was in fact smirking.
Of course.
Both of their eyelines follow back to you.
And though you hadn’t needed to ponder for an answer, your bashful lashes met the floor anyways as you peered away softly. But all while keeping a dainty simper to your lips.
“No, it’s okay.. He’s right.”
With your words, you noticed Arts face soften, but not in a way you’d guessed — more in a perplexed manner as his eyebrows dipped. And on the other hand Patrick had been grinning to himself with a cocky chuckle coming from his lungs as he rested back on his palms.
“Simple. And easy. I was right, just like always.”
Art had ignored Patrick’s boastfulness and instead he rose to his feet and stepped over to where the two of you had been, you stood up as well — and you’d been immediately met with the blondes gaze on you, hand lifted to your cheek.
“Baby, are- - you sure ? You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything, Patrick can be very..”
“Charming, sexy, fucking unforgettable-” The brunette chimes in with a cheeky smile as he stood up to put his nose in the conversation between you two.
“A nuisance.” Art spoke over Patrick as his eyes went darkening with annoyance while he glanced over to the other nosy man.
“What? Do you think he’ll be too rough ? That I can’t handle it?” You laughed softly, “I can take it.”
“I never said you couldn’t.. but you are learning. And I get this is all new and exciting for you — and your sex drive is going to be heightened at this time…”
“Give the girl what she asks, Art.”
“Shut up. No one’s talking to you.”
“You’re talking about me.”
You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at the two men bickering now, both over a foot taller than you, making your neck begin to pain just a little as you glanced up at the pair. And although, you would’ve been claimed very brave by most girls your age of how prominent your actions were towards teasing both of the men — you just couldn’t help but play with them.
A delicate sigh escaped you, “y’know.. if you aren’t nice to each other than I won’t want either of you to touch me.” You declare as you turn away from them and begin to walk away, but Art had grabbed on to your forearm and twisted you back around to face him.
“Hey. It’s just- - I’d never hear the end of it from Tashi.”
“She doesn’t have to know,” you began, and you searched the blonde’s expression for any ease which you failed to find — so you took your hand and reached up to gently caress the nape of his neck with your fingertips. “Besides, you’ll be involved. And therefore you won’t miss a thing.”
Your voice echoed songfully throughout Arts ears as he stared into your pretty eyes filled with desire, and just a spark of lust. You step closer to the man and your lips had been inches from his broad chest. It’s like your pleading eyes were like magic, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t fighting the urge to touch you all night long. He didn’t even care if Patrick watched — he liked showing you off anyways. Art pulled from your enrapture to look over at the darker haired man who was already pinned back at him. Chest inflating with a sigh, Art shrugged lightly.
“Fuck it. Fine.” He breathed out, and your smile had gone wide once again and you bit your lip with anticipation already. “But I need to prep you first.”
And with that Art had taken your hand in his as he lead you to one of the closest bedrooms nearby the floor plan, and Patrick of course, had scurried to follow after you both at the immediate note.
Your feet fastened to keep up with the blonde as the childish smile on your face had been filled with excitement to the rush where he lead you.
Patrick pushed open the cracked door as Art was lifting you to your feet on to the high bed where you stood ahead of him. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Art murmured while he looked up into your eyes through his aquamarine that had darkened with lust in just the short amount of time — soft grin taking upon his lips and you could sense his head just being filled with ideas by the second. It made your stomach do flips with yearn. Your nod quick as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and Art lifted a finger to your silk robe and gently pull it from your shoulders. As it falls, lace straps are revealed to the man and he observed the fabric, eloquent against your glowing skin with a chuckle. “What do we have here?”
“I knew she was prepared,” Patrick’s voice came jarring as he stood next to the blonde and your pupils started dialing by the contrast of the two men gawking at you now. One filled with alluring desire to almost tear what was left of your clothing to pieces — and the other softened. Needing to worship every inch of your petite body before he lost it.
Art pulled away your robe completely in one swift motion as his wide-set eyes never left your own, you wet your lips as your cheeks had began to heat up with anticipation, but nervousness at his quick movements — you stood beyond him, lingerie displaying that was stuck to your body, white with small pink flowers scattered across the cotton and lace. Arts breath hitched just from the sight and he felt so constrained in his briefs as the little pink bow trimming the lining above your core making his dick go painfully hard. He moved his large hands across you carefully. Almost like you were a doll that could break at any given second.
“These stay on till I say,” the man softly mentioned at your ear and you nodded.
You reached for his shoulder blades and the man inched behind your back to undo your bra, he let it fall from your arms before leaning over you to place a smooch your neck area — seamlessly turning into kisses that scattered down to your exposed nipples and you closed you eyes. Bliss took over you for a moment and you smiled. Your hold on him close to your warmth, and Arts fingertips felt the lushness of your skin from every part of you he could. “mmm,” you left out a soft sough as the blondes plump lips explored your tender buds and his tongue brushed up against you briefly, making you hiss for a moment.
His eyes had been examining you, but yours had been softly lidded stint you glanced in Patrick’s direction — to which, the other man’s mouth had been slightly agape, feasting on the view of you both in exhilaration already.
Art braced his hands under your thighs and he laid you down against the bed, your legs were pushed apart on instant but with all tenderness as he leaned up from you — your smile had never faded for a glimpse while the man moved you like a toy. His hands went quickly to pull your panties to the side and Patrick had circled the bed around you both as he stood in awe of the way you weren’t even trying to put up a sexy or proactive kind of facade at all — in fact, you’d been laughing.
Right then. Girlish giggles filled the air as Art grinned down at you in the rising heat of the moment. Already knowing of your ways — you had big, wide doe eyes watching the man take a finger and run them against your slick folds. He examined over your expression, to your already dripping cunt and you bit down on part of your lip. Watching him explore you in an expert manner. Art’s tongue darted out to wet his own lips, he moved his body to tower over your own and your lower back arched a bit off the bed when you felt the tips of his fingers just over your soaking entrance. Coating him in your slick wetness.
“That’s it, sweet girl.”
Art started sinking his ring and middle finger into you painfully slow. You whined a little at the stretch before letting your head fall and braids spread against the comforter of the bed.
Your eyes had caught sight of Patrick looking down on you — so only giving him a playful but sweet smile laced with a kind of innocence and temptation that could of made his head spin. You could just read the expression on his face of how dare you even look at him that way when you’d lured them both into soon doing the dirtiest of acts with you in between. You were a fucking minx. And he then felt his mouth go dry.
“Holy fuck,” the brunette panted in a mutter as he quickened to lower his checkered green boxers to pull out his throbbing cock, stroking himself at the sight of your pretty smile — and cunt, taking Arts fingers so finely.
The soft yet high pitched sighs and moans that were coming from you were the remedy that pushed a complete solid hard on beneath Arts pajama pants as the blonde held your tender legs spread for him to get you ready for his and Patrick’s cocks. He watched you. Eyes filled to the brim with mercenary while feeling you clench and pulse around his digits. Slipping in and out of you, he used his thumb to rub at your clit and you whined out as your eyebrows knitted together in one motion.
“O-oh..” you moaned, reaching out for the man’s fit arm to grasp on to as your toes flexed.
“Good girl.” Art groaned.
You could hear the sound of Patrick jerking himself to the sounds of your moans and the sight of pre cum that was gooing on to Arts hands lead by the own tent that was prominent in sight to the man. Patrick let out a low noise of his own. And Arts eyes finally traveled from you to glance over at his friend,
“You wanna show Patirck what I taught you, princess?”
Your lips curled into a sly smile when you heard his word — you leaned up from the sheets and your legs swiftly moved behind you to now crawl over to the brunette standing by the end of the bed, cock hard and reddened with want for all that was you.
It was undeniable that he was bigger than you could of comprehended maybe, your eyes locked on him now from your knees. They travelled from his dick, to the way he peered down at your plump lips in enchantment for where your clues had left guesses, taking you by the nape of your neck almost immediately you let yourself lick a clean stripe from the base of his cock to the tip as your tongue wet him nice and slow. Patrick watched the way you made sure to show him the shape of your tongue flush against him and he could of came all over your face right then. Large hands going opaque with veins to match his hard member, he gripped the hairs on the back of your neck as you cinched your lips to the tip of him.
“Shit, shit you’re fucking pretty,” Patrick panted at the sight of your eyes staying on his — you perfectly sunk him into your mouth as you sucked with ease and a soft whimper exited from the back of your throat. Knuckles turning white as the brunette peered at the way you took him so sweet, and you brought a hand up to jerk him farther past your lips all at once.
Art just behind your shoulder, watched as you could only fit Patrick half way while you throated him, your lips left spit as you bobbed your head up his cock and back down. The blonde took reign of his own pants and t-shirt to remove them just like you and Patrick had been now, and as the scene had been going on between the two of you, Art couldn’t help but maneuver himself beneath you. Lifting your lower body up a bit effortlessly so he could fit himself underneath — he tugged on your panties to get them off, right down your upper thighs and over your feet in routine as he discarded them off somewhere across the room.
His cock hard and dripping pre cum just under your pulsing cunt, you felt yourself clench just from Arts grip on you, already guiding you down his dick. Familiarly to him filling your tightness still made you pull from Patrick to let out a high toned gasps as you felt the other man sinking into your hole. “Mmm- - fuck..” you breathe out as you feel yourself being stretched so nice — Arts hands never letting up easy from your hips, he guided you all the way down his member just to let out a deep groan and move you back up again.
“Oh, shit..” the blonde panted. You kept your hold on Patrick as you stroked him even moving up and down Arts dick and letting out strangled moans from beneath the brunettes chest. “Come on baby, just like that- keep stroking him while you take my cock..”
“My god. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted us both.” Patrick huffed from the sight of you ridding Art with eyebrows knitted into another realm as you bounced up and down the blondes lap and Art couldn’t help but run his hands up your torso to your breast as you did. You placed your mouth back on Patrick and sucked him into letting out low moans of his own from your warmth around him.
“I could cum right now- - fuck, fuck !” he grunted, your hand had gone from moving quick to slowing down as you stroked his base and Art made you feel way to good inside — you didn’t know how much longer you even had in you as you’d gone light headed right then from the way he thrusted up into your soaking pussy, making your head fall back slightly and your words came out slurred,
“Oh- my-y god! Fuck..” you whimpered out as Art made your ass slap against his thighs from his pounding, he leaned up to peck at your neck and hold your body against his chest swiftly. You always remained content in his lap as you turned to kiss him back sloppily, moans and whimpers come from the two of you like a suppressed hunger.
Patrick felt his cock twitch with greed at the sight, “fuck Art, stop hogging her- - I’ve been practically dying to feel that tight little cunt.”
The already much sweatier and rough man, pulled you off of Art, and launched you forward on the bed as your hands braced your plummet — he made sure your ass was up and superb for his viewing. You moaned as your face hit the mattress and you rose to your hands and knees.
“I know this pussy feels fucking amazing. So sweet.” The brunette had been smirking as breathed in awe of the way the lips of your cunt shaped around his thumb as he felt up your folds and palmed your ass. He watched the way you turned to gaze at him with your own hazy fawning eyes that were full of a subtle plea to let him treat you like a whore. If you didn’t know before — you’d definitely known what I’d been like now. Patrick slid his dick over your soaked lips. You inched forward just from the feeling of the girth against you, causing you to hiss out a whine, not prepared or used to his size at all, it made you shake at the slight sensation.
“Keep still, baby doll” Arts hand had came to rub circles gently on your hip bone, your face consorted in uncertainty for a moment till you felt the blondes touch against your skin and you relaxed under his touch finally.
“Yeah. You’re a big girl, you wanted this remember?” Patrick added, he went to put his hand in your hair and you bit down on your strawberry reddened lips hard.
“Slow, please.” Your voice soft as you palmed the sheets beneath you to brace yourself,
“Slow.” Art repeated as his vision shifted from you to eye the brunette, leaning back on to his elbows beside you to making sure the darker haired man wasn’t pushing his luck.
Patrick raised a leg to get a better angle as he slapped the head of his aching cock a couple times to your puffy cunt, and he began to push in, taking his time to feel the way your tightness stretched fairly wide for him and when your jaw had hung to let out a choke moan, you’d been fighting the urge to give up on your arms strength. You took the man inch by inch. Whimpers escaped you like crazy and your legs began to tremble while Patrick’s lips parted to groan out deeply at the feeling of you clenching around him.
“There you go, pretty girl. Take my cock just like that..” he muttered as he started to fuck into you and your body had moved with his thrusts rather quickly, the man had been much more hasty to take you at a rapid pace on contact than Art normally did. His pelvis hitting the form of your ass and your soft cries matched the pace as he slid you up and down his throbbing member.
“Mmmh, fuck- your so- - big,” You watched as he grabbed on to your body and pounded into you. Patrick couldn’t stop himself now — your legs spread and nearly shaking just for him as your pre juices pooled at the bottom of his shaft. It was all too easy on the eyes for him to only take you faster. Your eyes had fought to stay open as hands come at you from every way at his escalated thrust.
Both of the men watch as you shudder to keep composure. The bows at the ends of your braids go wild on your back from the force of Patrick taking on your little body. And he had reached to grip them in his tough hands, making your your head to lift and echo out your whimpers and mewls.
Art felt himself coming close just from the sight, he had to calm his own hand from stroking himself into finishing. It was like the sight beyond him had surpassed what it ever could of been in his fantasies. He wanted it in you after all.
Patrick pushed on your lower back which forced you to arch for him all the more, your face against the mattress, watching you take his dick while pornographic moans fall from your pretty lips. You turned your head against the sheets to meet Arts eyes in petition as you’d been pulsing so hard — in fear you may start cumming too quick for your own little head to catch up to. Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw dropped as Patrick fucked cries out of you.
“Aww, you want Art to save you now? Poor thing.” The brunette coo’d at you and you could almost taste the smirk on his face right then as he watched your ass cheeks going swell from his maul on your tight cunt. Art had run his finger tips across your face that had glistened with tears.
“I can- take it, I need more..” you whispered out. To which Patrick pulled out of you with a deep grunt, sack full as he could of came inside of you, but he too could agree. More. The man had simply taken place on his back , you swiftly adjusted your position as the feeling of being cockless inside had already increased your fine need.
“Yeah? Then show us how much you need it. Ride my dick like a good girl.”
You were already climbing on top of the man with abs that could of made your head drowsy all the more, you heaved softly as your much smaller legs adjusted over Patrick’s broad muscular thighs to position yourself to his member. Dripping with a mixture of his and your wet arousal. You sunk down on him more easily now and you winced with pleasure as you leaned back on your arms, head going with you as you started to feel butterflies down there from your first slight movement, moving your hips up his girthy cock and right back down.
Patrick moaned lowly as he held your hips there and helped you move, your tits daintily bouncing with your body in the low light of the room, and you could hear a muttered, “god” come from your side as Art leaned over your delicate shoulder to grope at your exposed breast. His bottom lip tucked in his teeth. You could feel his leaking cock run again your lower back causing you to moan as you took yourself upon Patrick’s hard erection ramming into you.
“You look like a fucking angel fucking yourself on his cock- - shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” The man groaned as he observed his best friend turn you into a whimpering mess.
“Ugh- -, I wanna cum. Fuck, fuck..” Your whimpers were heavenly and sweet, Art took the initiative to reach around you and rub at your clit the perfect pace — making your legs shake and you gasps out. “Yes- - yes, oh. Fuck!”
Patrick grabbed hold of your ankles so you’d keep your balance on top of him, his thumb grazed against your white lace frilled sock and he groaned. To him they were so stupid, but at the same time so fucking hot.
“Cum, princess. Go ahead, Be a good girl for us.” Art slow talked you and it made your eyes flutter as you couldn’t have been filled more with burning lust all over your body as the men brought you right to where you wanted like that — shaking and crying out moans as you had came hard on Patrick’s dick. Your movements became sloppy as you heard groans coming from him as well, he leaned up to grab hold of your neck and press for pressure just before he pounded up into you hard and released his own ropes inside your sensitive heat — feeling him pump you full and the overstimulation of his large hand around your throat had you moaning out his name. You lifted from his cock, but Art held your body so you wouldn’t fumble over.
“Oh my god, holy- - fuck,” your grin now of bliss, string of naughty words and giggles left your puffy lips as you sighed into Arts shoulder and he was smirking down at the way his fingers rubbed your now creamy cunt and the blonde laid you back against the comforter again.
Completely cock drunk and breathing heavy as your heart beat caught up with your breathing, Art didn’t want you losing your overstim too quickly — he was already towering over your petite body and sliding back into you at the second your eyes met his and you reached for his arms immediately. Jaw open as you let out a choked noise. You couldn’t catch a break. Just being filled up again. You lock eyes with the gorgeous blonde above you as he stretched you wide once again.
“You’re so fucking good, sweet girl. Just one more, for me..”
All knowing you’d do whatever he longed for, the man sweet talked you slow as he watched Patrick’s seed drip from your drooling cunt and met the tip of his cock as he began to sink in. You kept your legs spread for him. Round eyes glittering with adoration for him like worship, you stared up at Art — so obedient for him always.
“I wanna cum again for you, I can-” you tried to speak fairly normal through soft gasps when Art bottomed out into you, reaching that spot Patrick lit up within you, your head went cloudy again and released into the pillows priming you. “-do it.” You finished your sentence with a whine.
Art couldn’t help but to grin at your state, so tired and fucked out but so turned on by the way the two men had been taking their toll on you back to back. You couldn’t help but take it all — he held your body, pussy so full from cum and Arts member that filled you excellently. You began to shake and tremble with a whimper at his every slap against your sensitive cunt.
Your hand moved to your face unconsciously you took your thumb in your mouth to balance the sensations all at once, moaning as the blonde pounded you into the bed — he watched you bite down and suck on your own digit in euphoric bliss. He soon reached to remove your own hand and replace it with his, sliding his tip against your pump bottom lip before dipping his thumb in your mouth.
You let out a satisfied little chirp as you run your tongue sloppily over the man’s digit with a smile before sucking on him like it was everything you needed. Eyes shutting softly, he pleased you both orally and by the clench of your pussy. “mmmh” you whimpered out and Art kept fucking into you with a quick pace.
“That’s my girl. I know exactly what you want.” He kept his finger in your mouth before your legs were shaking with need and your own hands gripped his one as you cried out from his thrusts, the blonde panted at the slight of you beneath him so prolific and exposed — he couldn’t even think straight before he was spilling his load inside of you. Keeping himself flush to your cunt as he emptied himself with a low grunt and you ended up squirting on his cock with a muffled scream.
“Fuck, you got her to squirt.” You heard Patrick pant and by the looks of his hand covered in his own arousal, you and Art had both been knowing he came again. Sweaty and chests heaving you both melted into each other, your arms immediately going to wrap around Art as he squeezed and kissed you.
“Are you good, baby? Was that not too much for you? You took a lot just now.” Arts voice came in calmly as he looked over you for any signs of turbulence. His fingers graced your flushed face, wedding band cold as it brushed against your skin. You nodded as your breathing finally caught up to you steadily.
“Yeah.. Fuck, I feel good. You both came inside of me..” your words slip out as if you needed to convince yourself of the matter, like you hadn’t been on your back and both of the men’s cum wasn’t gushing out of you as you speak.
Art smiled softly at you and his tired eyes watched the sparkle in yours. He readjusted himself so he was lying beside your left — and Patrick collapsed against the pillows on your right.
“Fucking hell, Art. I just can’t believe you kept her all to yourself this whole time.”
“Yeah? She’s something isn’t she?” Art replied with a grin as he turned your way and continued to run his thumb over your cheeks and lips. Your blush was heightened at the two boy’s marvel over you, lip between your teeth as you let out a light chuckle.
“I hope you had fun, Patrick. She’s still all mine, right angel?” Art glanced down at you.
“Sharing is caring.” You shrugged in a teasing manner as the blonde scoffed playfully and raised a brow in thought before nodding, “okay, maybe a little sharing.”
Patrick laughed, “you call that a little ? We made her cum twice. You let me fuck her like a sl-”
The brunette was cut off at the blonde hitting him in the forearm then gesturing to you — sound asleep in between the two.
Your soft breaths slip through your lips as your head fell into Arts shoulder. He put his finger to his lips to warn Patrick not to wake you, and he leaned up from the bed slow. “Pass me my shirt on the floor, and grab a towel from the bathroom.” He whispers to the other man who carefully moved up from the bed and threw the T to Art before he went to grab a towel for your body.
Art started to maneuver his shirt on you with tenderness so you at least wouldn’t wake up naked and confused.
When Patrick came back he smirked at the way your small tiresome figure had been passed out on the bed like some sort of sleeping beauty. “See, I did that.” He nodded up at Art with the same darkened lustful eyes he began the night with — but Art only rolled his at the man’s cockiness.
“We did that.” He corrected while he ran the towel over your inner thighs lightly before he lifted your limbs to lie you beneath the covers, and Patrick helped him pull them over you. You only let out a quiet noise from the movement as you continued your slumber and the two men watched you for a quiet moment.
Arts lips curled up in a fond smile before he bent to leave a kiss to your forehead — the blonde looked over at the brunette who had folded his arms over his chest while he watched with a raised brow and Art contemplated before leaving another peck against your skin.
“And one from Patrick too, I guess.”
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A/N: I love this little uv I’ve created sooo bad you guys <3
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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Okay so the poll results were for an OC captain, though it was close enough that I still hesitate to name him in the canon of the fic.
I’m also going to be taking my time fleshing out his character because it’s been a while since I made an OC. So please be patient while I add tidbits here and there to build his character.
Content: safe/sane/consensual sex, descriptions of scars, mentions of past torture
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Nikto beats you and Nova twice out of three rounds — but that’s no surprise. The man moves like a machine. Even against two opponents he controls the battlefield like a chess master. Neither you nor Nova take it to heart, especially since he always gives you both advice at the end, helping you to improve.
He’s a great partner, a great teammate; you’re sure to show him your appreciation after sparring with a kiss to his nose-plate. His hands spasm on yours as he helps you unwind your wraps, gloved thumb sweeping over your bare palm.
“You did good today,” he says, voice rough and accent thick. He must be pissed about earlier still, when Ghost and Soap threw your matches with them.
“So did you,” you reply, squeezing his hand in return.
“Stay with me tonight?” He asks.
You damn near melt. Nikto has an open invitation to your room, but his is a sacred place, only for him unless otherwise specified. That he’s asking you to come to his tonight…
“Absolutely,” you reply, squeezing his hand. “I just need to see the captain first. Okay?”
He grunts in understanding, eyes flicking to the door the 141 left through earlier. He mutters something in Russian — some insult about goats and mothers you think.
“Yeah, exactly,” you reply, voice dropping with simmering irritation.
A good spar with him and Nova has helped ground you a bit, but it hasn’t helped the anger. You don’t spar any of your team with anger; they don’t deserve.
Luckily, you and your captain worked something out a while ago when you’re feeling a bit… aggressive.
“Cap?” You call, still holding Nikto’s hand. “Could I stop by for a nightcap later?”
His eyes flash, a sinful twist to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, babygirl. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Over his shoulder, you see Nova arch her eyebrows and Keegan grin wicked into his water bottle. Gossip fiends.
“Showers. Now,” the cap says, slapping them both on the ass. “Double time. I need to have a word with Price still.”
Long after the sun has gone down, you’re standing outside your captain’s door. Take a breath. Remind yourself of your mantra. He wants you, always will, and he’s going to take care of you.
Then loosen your shoulders, unboxing all the frustration and aggression you set aside earlier. Feel it burn through you, make your hands twitch in and out of fists.
One more inhale, and then you shove the door open.
“There you are,” he rumbles. “C’mere.”
You flash your teeth, “No.”
He tilts head back and forth, cracking his neck. “Alright then.”
There’s no real fight. You’re not looking to get away or actually hurt him. And he’s not looking to actually make you submit. That’s not the point of this game.
He strides across the room and shoves you back, pins your shoulder to the wall. You grip at his forearm, nails scraping, and squirming as the hot, hard length of his body squishes you flat.
“Settle,” he orders.
“Fuck you,” you snarl back, nipping his lip.
He growls, tangling a hand in your hair and tipping your head back. Leaves a searing trail of kisses down your throat, bites a bruise into your collarbone. You wriggle and fuss all the while, safely held still and supported by his hands and body.
“Brat,” he rasps in your ear.
“I’m not,” you snap.
“Oh, yes you are, babygirl,” he replies, a mean smirk on his flushed face. “But that’s alright, I like you bad.”
He pulls you from the wall, bullies you onto the bed. You try to grab at him, get him under you. He doesn’t indulge like he normally would. Pins you on your back so that you can keep fighting, yanking at your wrists in his firm grip, pushing your hips up to grind into his as if trying to flip you both.
He slots his hips between your thighs, positions just his knees under your ass so that your back is arched, shoulders on the mattress. Limits your mobility, but that doesn’t stop you from kicking at air, making half-angry, half-desperate noises in the back of your throat.
“Gonna say please like a good girl?” He teases.
“No,” you hiss back.
He has the audacity to chuckle, which just riles you up more. (It’s supposed to). You curse as he works a hand beneath your shirt, palms at your bare breasts and pinches your nipples until they ache. You gasp like a pornstar, surprised and turned on.
“Pretty noise,” he coos. “Do it again.”
When he twists, you mewl, face immediately burning up as you renew your “efforts” to get away. All it does is make the treatment rougher than if you just laid still and took it, but that’s what you want, what feels good. A little edge to the pleasure as adrenaline and energy electrify you from head to toe.
He grinds against you, cotton of your loose shorts sticking against your soaked cunt. Christ you were turned on before you even barged in. Now you’re fucking throbbing for it.
“Gimme,” you grit out, rocking against him. Gears successfully shifted from physically taking control to just ordering him around.
“Give you what, brat?” He goads, slapping your pussy. The thin fabric muffles the sting, but it sends a white-hot ache through you that makes your eyes roll. “My cock? You think you deserve it?”
Another slap. You cry out, notice the sly look on his face when he notices that you’ve soaked through your shorts.
“Yes,” you reply, all confidence and reckless arrogance.
He yanks his underwear down to mid thigh, thick cock springing up to smack lewdly against his toned stomach. Precum smears over the pale scars there, sticks in the trail of groomed hair there.
“Yeah?” He growls. “Alright then.”
He yanks the crotch of your shorts aside (you hear stitches pop) and then he’s plunging into you. It’s too much all at once and you cry as much, knees squeezing around his tattooed ribs.
“Fuck.” His voice is shredded, so rough and low you feel it more than hear it. He lets your wrists go to grip at your ass, grinding deeper. Can feel the fat head of his cock bullying at your cervix, his favorite passtime while you adjust to the thick base of him.
“How does that feel, babygirl?” He murmurs in your ear. “You needed daddy’s cock, huh? Needed it to set you right again?”
You whimper out a curse at him, gripping at his biceps. He croons mockingly, thumb slipping between your bodies to press at your clit. Not rubbing or grinding, but just pressing. Just the right amount to make you sweat and pant, start trying to squirm to get any friction at all.
He lets you — could stop you if he wanted, or pull away entirely — but he likes winding you up like this. Likes seeing all that vicious energy turned to seeking pleasure from him.
“Fucking move,” you try to snarl, but your voice breaks midway through and comes out more pleading than you’d like.
“What was that, babydoll? Are you talking to me?” He teases, rolling his hips.
Your mouth falls open, a moan ripping from your chest, deep and needy.
“Daddy, move,” you cry, voice going up in pitch.
“There’s my brat.”
He pushes one of your knees up against your chest and slams into you. You scream and he doesn’t even try to cover your mouth, whispering filth as he tilts your hips for the best angle with his other hand. Fucks into you deep and rough, grinning at the obscenely wet noises every time he plunges into you.
Can practically feel him fucking your cervix open to get just that little bit deeper. Licks his lips when he sees the little bump in your stomach. You give as good as you get, squeezing down tight, bouncing to meet him, nails scoring lines down his back and shoulders.
���Gonna ask daddy to make you cum?” He goads.
“Earn it,” you reply.
He laughs and pulls out, flips you onto your stomach while you’re still dizzy with emptiness. Hikes your hips up and sinks into you like coming home. Your knees almost give out but that’s fine by him, he’s plenty strong enough to hold you up all on his own, using you like a noisy little toy for his own benefit.
“Fuuuuck,” you whine, feeling overwhelmed, pleasured tears gathering in your eyes. Then, in a whisper, “Daddy…”
“Feel like being good yet?” He asks. A large, rough hand circles that back of your neck and pins you face down to the mattress.
“N-no,” you whine, fight gone out of you now that you’re getting exactly what you want.
Fuck it feels so, so good. Every inch bullying you wide open and loose, so wet you’re dripping down your own thighs, wetting his ball as they slap against you. You feel split open and pinned, unable to do anything but take it, tortured stupid on ecstasy. He licks a stripe up your back before pressing you down prone, ankles locked around yours to keep you open and accessible.
“S’alright, doll, don’t need to be good to be mine.”
He’s barely pulling out halfway before ramming home now. You can barely get a breath in, the weight of him pressing whatever resistance was left right out of you.
“Daddy, daddy,” you sob. “Fuck, I wan’ it.”
“Want it, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you moan, pressing your face into your arms. Cant your hips just that little bit to get him abusing that bundle of nerves.
“Oh, right there, huh?” He coos. “Did daddy find your little sweet spot?”
A series of short, ruthless thrusts right there, making incoherent, desperate noises fall from your mouth. Before you realize it, he’s wedged a hand beneath your hips and has two fingers toying with your poor, neglected clit.
“‘M gonna… f-fuck, fuck,” you whine, writhing (or at least trying to) against him. Not sure if you’re trying to urge him on or get away. Doesn’t matter, he’s in charge, has been since the beginning. “Daddy, I wanna…”
“Whenever you want, babygirl,” he replies, voice going all warm and gooey. Your chest hitches. “Squeeze around me nice and tight. Let me feel you cum on my cock.”
Didn’t realize that was what you needed, but you fucking scream as you clench down around him, stars bursting behind your closed eyes. He fucks you through it, tapping against your g-spot again and again until you dissolve into a weak, wet whimpers.
“Daddyyyy,” you whine.
And that sets him off, flooding you with heat. He loses control for a second as his hips jerk, pounding brutally into your oversensitive, swollen pussy. Makes a few tears finally slip down, soaking into the sheets along with your drool. The sound of him groaning as he cums makes you spasm around him again, a little aftershock that milks the last of his release.
“That’s it, easy,” he groans, brushing kisses over your trembling shoulders. “Easy, doll.”
He lies over you for a few minutes, letting you feel him there. Right there with you. Breathing and recovering, holding you through the endorphin rush. When you squirm a bit, he eases off you, cock slipping out. You shiver at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you, glassy eyes fluttering.
“C’mere,” he soothes, tugging you in. Lying on his side, he hitches one of your thighs up over his hip, tucks your arms between your chests and rests his stubbly chin on your temple. You splay your fingers over his peck, over the bold, dark symbol for SpecGru. Feel his heart settling back into rhythm and sigh, snuggling in.
The hormone drop is a monster on your emotions, often leaves you shivery and lonely, a little sick in your own body. First time you did this with him ended in tears, expecting him to get up and leave. He didn’t, never has, but you both learned that as much physical contact as possible in the aftermath eases the comedown away from a total crash.
“You did so well, babygirl,” he whispers, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach without dislodging you. “Such a good girl. Even if you think you’re being bad.”
You flush, hide your face against his neck. He chuckles, honeybalm on your soul. Can feel his hand start to move, then pause as he remembers that you can’t handle that stimulation right after sex. So he just squeezes, slow and gentle, helps get you back in your body.
“I still want you,” he assures, echoing your mantra back at you. “Always will. You’re mine.”
You outline a heart shape onto his forearm, not quite able to speak yet. He recognize the feeling though and gently guides your face up to place a slow, gentle kiss to your lips.
“Love you, too, babygirl. Ready to clean up?”
You nod. He eases you up, lets you cling onto his hand as he walks you to the en suite. Fills you a glass of cool water to sip on while he gets the shower running. Turns his back while you use the restroom and wash your hands, then guides you into the hot water.
You lean into him, near boneless, as he washes you, calloused palms with soap instead of a cloth. Then sits still, hands on your hips, while you return the favor. This part is one of the most important for you, getting to freely return touch.
(Simon hardly ever let you touch, especially in the aftermath. Sure, you could scratch and grip at him during sex, but during foreplay it was all part of his dom persona that you couldn’t just touch at will. And afterwards… well. It’s not like he didn’t do aftercare. He did! But the almost formulaic warm cloth wipe down, glass of water, doze for a bit before he left was not… not ideal. Not like this.)
Your captain hums, eyes half-lidded but trained on you, while you smooth your palms over the firms planes of his muscles. Fingers tracing over tattoos and scars. Squishing and patting at the healthy layer of tissue over his stomach and thighs. Lets you nuzzle and kiss his soft cock, even though it makes his fingers twitch with oversensitivity.
Squeezes when you lace fingers together to stretch his arm out, inspecting the lines your nails carved into him.
“M’okay, baby,” he says before you can ask. “Feels good.”
You similarly assure him over the bruises on your wrists and hips, smiling and leaning up to kiss his jaw.
When the shower is over, he dries you off, playfully ruffling your hair just to kiss the pout off your lips. He dresses you in one of his shirts and a spare pair of your own joggers, found in his duffel.
You sit with him for a while longer still, enjoying how he lets himself relax once he knows you’re taken care of. He lies with his head on your chest, your fingers fluffing his hair, while the two of you watch an episode of some stupid show Keegan got the rest of the team into.
Only when it’s over does he ask if you’re ready to go to Nikto’s. If you wanted to stay, you could. Nikto would understand. But you’re looking forward to a night with your quiet Russian while the other three have a little movie night.
At the door, you kiss your captain goodnight. Hug and kiss Keegan and Nova as you pass them in the hall headed to his room. Nova makes a point of kissing one of the bruises on your wrist, while Keegan whispers that he loves you.
You pad to the first door in the hall, where Nikto has stationed himself as the team guard dog. You tap gently at the door, a pre-determined pattern to let him know who it is.
The door cracks open, one startling blue eye peering from the darkness.
“Evening, Nik,” you coo.
A hand reaches out and gently yanks you inside. And then next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in thick arms devoid of any usual covering. You feel smothered, in a good way.
“Love,” he rasps in Russian into your hair.
You hum in return. Place your palms flat on his abdomen. The muscles clench, you pause as you realize his abs, impressive as they are, feel too defined. He needs water. Taking mental note, you draw your hands carefully around, feeling the raised bumps of wicked scars. Make sure he can track exactly where and how you’re touching until your arms are wrapped around him in a return hug.
“Smell good,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” You giggle. “Showered just for you.”
He snorts, then scoops you up. You make a delighted noise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you across the room. Of course his navigation is impeccable, even in pitch black. He lays you down on the bed, but before he can crawl up with you, you place a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re dehydrated.”
He makes an annoyed noise, sounds like he’s about to protest. You shush him with a quick peck to his chest.
“Get a glass please? I could use some water myself.”
Which has him instantly moving. You politely turn away as the bathroom light flicks on, the water runs. Can hear him chug two entire glasses before he fills it one final time. The light turns off again. The bed dips as he returns, presses the cool edge gently to your cheek.
“Thank you,” you murmur, sipping about a quarter of it to appease him before he sets aside for you on a bedside table.
And then he gets what he really wants, stripping you down and tucking you in like a nesting bird. Practically on top of you while you’re still reeling from how much skin you can feel. Even during intimacy, he tends to stay clothed or mostly clothed. But right now all you can feel is a pair of underwear against your bare ass. Everywhere else it’s miles of warm skin, uncovered muscle and texture of scars.
“This is nice,” you coo. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
You wiggle around until you’re chest to chest. Start with his hands. Kiss each smooth fingertip, prints flayed off. Then his palms, the divots from nails driving through. Flip them over to kiss his scarred knuckles, smile at the way he twitches, flexing them outward like he’s trying not to close his hand.
“Okay?” You ask.
“Yes.”
You kiss his wrists, his forearms, to his collarbone. You’ve peeked a blue-black tattoo there before. Stars and the start of something that might be religious. Spend a little extra time there, tongue peeking out. He shifts; you take it as a sign of discomfort and move on.
“Here next,” he says when you dip to go to his chest.
He guides your face up his neck, where you press long (but chaste) kisses until you bump his jaw. And realize that’s all skin too.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Can I…?”
“Yes.”
You feather your lips along his fresh-shaved jaw, the nicked scars on his chin. Then up, ignoring the wicked scar along his cheek. Breathe against his temple, feeling dizzy with the trust he’s showing you.
“I love you,” you whisper, continuing along to his nose, twice broken and poorly set each time. A line over one nostril where a piercing was ripped out. He makes a noise in his throat, think he might be having trouble speaking again. Don’t mind.
He lets you get down to his mouth, where a particularly twisted scar warps part of his upper lip away from his teeth. You think that if you saw it in the light, his canine would be visible. His lower lip is uneven too, like a misaligned seam.
You don’t pay any special attention to any of it, focused more on reacquainting yourself with how your mouth fits with his. He doesn’t lead, doesn’t rush or pull or press. But there’s tension all along his body, everywhere you touch. You don’t ask for more than a chaste kiss, and when you pull away, you tilt your forehead gently against his.
“Still okay?” You ask.
“Still okay.”
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mxltifxnd0m · 4 months ago
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sub! sammy headcanons ⟡ s. winchester
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pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab! reader]
word count: 1.5K
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warnings: mentions of sub/dom dynamics, cursing, oral m/f receiving, praise, hair pulling, sam being a brat, pain/marking kink, bondage, pegging, choking, cock- warming, written with early seasons sam in mind, barely edited
a/n: MINORS DNI!! i will use the block button if you do :) anyways i was inspired by the whimper audio of jared in house of wax and it sparked this idea that i got around too lol
also, i will be posting a weekly recap of my week during this semester of school so go and check that out! ik i said i wouldn't be posting that often, but perhaps i lied, but then again its only the first week back lol
anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!
𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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⟡ a preface? idk some pre thots before the headcanons lol
okay so in my mind, sam is a soft dom 100% but can be a switch when the situation calls for it
due to his stature, it can be hard to imagine sam as a sub, but trust me, he can be 
i think he’s more of a sub when he’s younger, like in the earlier seasons of the show  
but in the later seasons, he def would want more control in his sex life (would go more in-depth about this, but this is not the place for that lol)
anyways time for the headcanons loll
⟡⟡⟡
⟡ praise kink
is this even a debate?? The answer is no its not loll 
this goes both ways; he loves giving you praise but also receiving it 
thrives on the pet names you give him “pretty boy”, “handsome”, “good boy”, etc. 
makes his brain turn into literal mush and doubles down on whatever he’s doing to do, whether it's going down on you or fucking you straight into the mattress or thrusting up into you harder as you’re on top of him
⟡ certified muncher
mari did some NSFW headcanons a while back for sam (check that out!) and i mentioned that he was a certified muncher and i stand by it 100% 
sam is a pussy fiend™️
like do we not remember that sam had a sex dream about bela and he “went down” on her??? 
yeah, you can’t sit here and tell me he isn’t one  but yes he loves going down on you!! 
he’s obsessed with the taste of you and how warm you are as he drags his tongue through your slit 
if he gets just a taste, he's a fucking goner  he gets pussydrunk so fast  he’s damn good at it too
ruts his hips into the mattress unconsciously as he goes down on you because giving you pleasure gets him off 
is obsessed when you ride his face, like yes use his face to cum! 
like he loves the feeling of your thighs cushioning his ears as you grind against his face, his nose bumping your clit perfectly as his tongue is as deep as he can get in your cunt and lets out muffled groans, sending vibrations through you, and makes you rut into his face even harder 
could (and has) cummed untouched just by eating you out  there have been times when you had to physically haul him off of you because you were overstimulated to the point where it almost hurt 
“pretty boy, please.” your voice was wrecked as your hands were weaved into his brown hair and tugged him away from your cunt. he whined like a baby when you pulled him off, and sam looked like the poster boy of debauchery. the bottom half of his face slick with your arousal, lips puffy and pink as his hair was standing up in all different directions, and his eyes were glazed over with lust. 
⟡ hair pulling
speaking of his hair standing up in different directions  the man loves and i mean LOVES, getting his hair tugged/pulled at
sam likes it when you play with it, he curls up into your lap as you play with it, but as you start, you tug on it lightly; low moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he burrows into your lap and shoves his face in your crotch 
but he loves it when you tug on it as he goes down you, sending jolts of pleasure through his spine and to his cock 
one time, he came in his boxers when the two of you had an early morning makeout session, and you tugged a little too hard, and he let out a choked moan against your lips. you pulled away from him for him to shove his head in the crook of your neck, riding out his orgasm. when he came out of his hiding spot, he had a red hue on his cheeks as he looked sheepish
⟡ vocal
oh, this man is vocal [this whimper audio is what sparked this all]  at first, he was shy about making noise, only letting out small grunts and groans 
but as you guys were together for longer, you slowly coaxed it out of him 
“come on, make some noise for me, handsome; wanna hear you,” you said as you kissed around his hips and down his v-lines, scraping your teeth along the skin before kissing the tip of his cock. A small groan left his lips before a louder moan erupted from his chest as you took his tip in your mouth and suckled on it. 
But once he got over not making noise, oh god, he sounded beautiful as you overstimulated him and milked him for what he was worth as he let out noises and babbled out nonsense from his cum-drunk mind.
⟡ bratty
we’ve seen the sass on this man; he is 100% capable of being a brat 
but when he is one, he revels in being difficult
but it just means you get to put this 6’4 man in his place (you act like it doesn’t do wonders for your ego, but it does lol) 
when he acts like a brat, you’re rougher with him, and sam loves it  he loves feeling the sting of your hand against his ass or the scraping of your nails along his chest as you ride him 
this also means you edge him for hours, bringing him to the edge, his cock drooling precum and flushed red. tears leak from his eyes as he whines, the noise echoing through the empty motel room. 
“pl-please! I wanna cum.” sam’s voice was higher than it had ever sounded and absolutely ruined from the amount of times that you’ve denied him sweet relief. you clicked your tongue at him, “have you learned your lesson?” your hand was tight around the base of his cock as you planted teasing kisses around his pelvis and thighs, sucking hickeys wherever you so pleased.
⟡ pain/marking kink
sam isn’t one to love pain, considering the life he leads but he relishes in the pleasurable pain of your marks. 
loves to feel the slight sting on his back as he stretches or puts on his shirt from your nails biting into his skin and scratching it up  his thighs being sensitive and tender from the number of hickeys that you left in your wake as you blew him 
sam didn’t think he’d like being slapped, but you asked him if you could and he was surprised that he moaned in response as a red handprint bloomed on his face (you don’t do it often, but its always welcomed if you do it)
⟡ bondage
sam has the innocent facade down to a T, but he’s a kinky motherfucker behind those puppy dog eyes of his 
loves being tied up and at your mercy he doesn’t mind handcuffs, but he’s more partial to the silk ropes you use to tie his arms together and to the headboard and use him in any way you wanted 
he knows that he could get out of the ties if you wanted (you guys have a system in place to let the other know if they want to tap out), but he likes surrendering himself to you and knows that you’ll take good care of him 
when you get him all tied up and when you’re done with him, he’s practically shaking with pleasure and blissed out to the point where he doesn’t know where he is sometimes
sam in shibari makes you go feral (you learned how to do the ties and mentioned it to him one day and pleaded for you to do it on him)
⟡⟡⟡
bonus headcanons!
⟡ pegging
it was an experience that you both thoroughly enjoyed
he finally had gotten a piece of what you were like the day after of an intense night with sam  sam was surprised by the ache he felt, but it was a pleasant one 
this was one of the times when he was the loudest, and it’s one of his favorite things to do with you
⟡ choking
you don’t exactly choke him you either leave your hand on his neck to rest there as your hips swivel around his cock 
or you put the slightest amount of pressure on his neck, not cutting off his airflow but the blood flow, and when you let go, he was catapulted into an orgasm so hard his eyes crossed.
⟡ cock-warming
he loves it when, after an intense session, staying connected to you as long as he can 
sometimes, after you guys clean up and head for bed, he always asks if he could just stay in you since it’s comforting for him  You always oblige him since you love it, too 
It’s slightly uncomfortable at first; his soft cock doesn’t exactly sink in as smoothly compared to when he’s hard 
but the two of you sleep soundly until the morning, where he had grown harder in you as the night progressed, and it usually leads to slow morning sex
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stellewriites · 5 months ago
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Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?
Would rlly apreciate it <3
-🌑
i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓
you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.
you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.
you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.
“need a hand, dove?”
you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.
“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.
“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.
“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.
“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”
“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.
“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.
“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.
“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.
“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”
“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”
simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”
you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.
“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.
“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.
his silence spoke volumes.
you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.
“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.
“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.
“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”
“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”
“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.
“aye.”
“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.
johnny pouted.
“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.
“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”
“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.
johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.
“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.
you caved immediately.
“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”
“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.
“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”
“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”
“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”
simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.
once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.
you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.
johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.
he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.
you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.
you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.
johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.
you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.
“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.
“too t’red,” he mumbled.
simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.
you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”
“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.
“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.
simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”
he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.
“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.
you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.
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entitled-fangirl · 6 months ago
Text
I'll find you.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: the high Septon visits Winterfell, and Cregan would rather do anything else with his time than spend it with the priest.
Warnings: religious trauma, bad theology, blood, fighting, vulgar words and name-calling
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"I don't want him near her."
"My lord, please. You and the Lady must greet him most welcomingly. He's an important ally."
Cregan gritted his teeth. "He's a fucking fiend. I'll not have him anywhere near her. I'll greet him myself."
The maester sighed, "You cannot keep her away from him the entire time. It raises suspicion."
"I find myself hardly caring."
"Speak to her on it, my lord. Perhaps you'll come to an arrangement."
"You're worried about a septon?" She asked in a confused manner.
"You've ever had your gut wrench at the thought of someone?" He asked.
She leaned against the back of her chair with her head tilted in thought, "I suppose so."
"Septon Garren has no regard for life itself. I'd make a better priest than him."
She rolled her eyes, "We're his hosts. We still make the rules here, Cregan."
He sighed and sipped his ale. "I know that. Still, I'll not have him disrespect you."
"I'll stay at your side. How does that sound?"
He let out a long breath, "You won't wander?"
"I won't."
"Fine. Fine."
Septon Garren exited his carriage with a scowl that looked like it was permanently marred to his face.
He looked around at Winterfell with a look that screamed he was unimpressed.
Cregan stepped forward, keeping Y/n behind him, "Septon. How wonderful to have you join us."
He grimaced, "Yes. Yes. Very well."
Cregan had to hold back a sigh, "I've not seen you since I was young. Might I…" He paused, forcing himself to continue, "Might I introduce my Lady Stark?"
Garren's eyebrows shot up at that.
Cregan reluctantly pulled her in front of him, his hands never leaving the woman's body.
She smiled and held out her hand, "A pleasure, Septon Garren."
Garren stared at her hand with an unimpressed stare.
She awkwardly lowered her hand and leaned back into Cregan. 
Garren finally spoke, "'Tis colder than I imagined."
Cregan gritted his teeth in frustration, "Yes, well. You did decide to visit at the beginning of winter. So, I imagine it's much colder than King's Landing."
Y/n felt the tension, "Might we go inside? You must be weary from your travel."
Garren's eyes wandered over her slowly, as if seeing something that she didn't. "Yes. That would be fine."
Cregan sighed and pulled Y/n along with him, leading them into Winterfell.
"He doesn't seem that terrible, Cregan."
"You've no idea, my love. He's like a spider."
She scoffed lightly, "C'mon. He's unpleasant, yes. But you make him seem like a demon."
"He's the closest you'll find."
She sighed in frustration. "I am going to fetch my book from the library. When I return, I expect you to have pieced yourself back together."
She picked up the book she had abandoned in the library, turning around and jumping in surprise.
Septon Garren stood in the doorway.
Just staring. 
She held the book to her chest, feeling exposed for some reason. "Septon. Forgive me. I didn't hear you."
He grunted, continuing his stare. 
She was unsure of what to do but stare back. He was in the door way. What else was she to do?
She made herself walk the various shelves, pretending to scan for a book. 
He continued his stare. 
She finally sighed, "My husband told me you've been the high septon for three kings now."
Garren grunted, studying her. 
She looked around, very uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I should return to Cregan."
He moved one step to the side and grumbled under his breath, "Flee from me, Eve."
Her brow furrowed, "Hmm? I'm sorry?"
He stared with a glare now.
She quickly made it back to Cregan.
Cregan had decided to give the man a single chance due to his wife's words.
So he sat over his dinner, trying his hardest to converse with the man. 
"My friends in the south tell me the weather has been fairing nicely this season."
Garren grumbled, "Aye. A fair amount of rain."
Cregan nodded and sipped his wine, "I see. We're all snow. I understand the feeling of rain."
Y/n leaned forward with an intent to speak, "Tell me exactly what it is you do?"
Garren's brows furrow, "I'm the high septon."
She bit her lip, "Yes. But… what exactly does a septon do?"
He frowned, "Girl does not know the jobs of a septon?"
Cregan's chest puffed out on instinct.
"No, I'm afraid I don't. Please tell me." She tried to reason.
"I… I communicate with the Seven, and relay the message to the people. I perform exorcisms and offer sacrifices to our gods, old and new, to please them."
She hummed, "Oh… is that all?"
Cregan held back a chuckle.
Garren frowned but said nothing. 
Late that night, she sat up from the bed, unable to sleep.
Cregan snoozed loudly as he always did.
It seemed to be the only time he was in a state of pure relaxation, so she never dared to interrupt it.
She pushed herself from the bed and ran a hand through her messy hair in an attempt to calm it. 
After throwing a robe on over her small clothes, she left the room to spend her time in the library until morning. It was a common routine for her to do so, and none of the servants ever batted an eye when she did. 
But when she walked into the library, she froze to see Septon Garren there. She let out a soft gasp that caught his attention.
He turned, a new look in his eye, "Come. Sit."
She held her arms over herself, "No, I couldn't. I'm hardly appropriately dressed. I… I did not expect anyone else up at this hour."
He titled his head, "It does not bother me, my child. Sit."
She forced herself to talk slow steps to him, sitting down on the sofa next to him. 
He watched her closely, letting his eyes wander over her. 
"Couldn't sleep, I suppose?" She asked awkwardly.
He stared at her, debating something. 
He leaned towards her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her arms away from her body, making her expose herself more to him. 
She watched him in freight as he took her in more. 
He finally spoke, "'Tis a shame."
"W…What is?"
"The curse of women."
She let out a breath, "I… I'm sorry."
"You believed you could seduce a high septon? You're certainly a bold one."
She lightly scoffed as her hands began to shake, "W.. What?"
He grinned a sick smile, "You've succumb to your nature, girl. Don't play the fool when your septon discovers so."
She tried to pull her hands out of his, to no avail, "Stop."
He bit his smile back from growing wider. "I bet you've fooled the Stark lord." He leaned in, "No man but a holy one can outwit the dealings of an evil cunt."
"Let me go."
He stands, pulling her up with him, "On the contrary, girl. I believe I know just what to do with you- something Cregan Stark doesn't have the guts to do."
Her eyes welled up with tears, "I haven't done anything… I haven't… I haven't done anything."
One of his hands moved up to her hair, gripping the strands at the back of her neck harshly. "Let's go, Eve."
She could only comply as he began to drag her by her hair with no remorse.
He pulled her from the library and began to pull her down the corridor.
She began to cry, "Stop… please… pl… stop."
He laughed, "Now Eve uses her tears to plead for forgiveness. It's typical."
She tried her hardest to pry his fingers from her.
"You see, every woman is a reincarnate of Eve, sent by Satan to test us all. It's a man's job to keep her evil at bay." He leaned into her ear, "And yours has done a poor job of it, it seems."
She misstepped, tripping herself and falling to her feet. 
He reaffirmed his grip on her hair and tugged her up harshly. 
She let out a loud shriek in pain. 
He pulled her the rest of the way up, letting her go and slapping her across the face so hard, she fell again. 
She cried at the pain that throbbed in her face and head. "I didn't… I… Creg… please."
Garren grabbed her by the hair again, "Don't worry. I'll beat it out of you, girl."
She hiccuped, desperate for breath through her panic and tears as he continued to drag her down the corridor. 
"Please stop… I… I'll do anything… let.. let me go."
He gripped her chin tightly to pull her face to him, "You'll feel better after a proper beating, I assure you."
She felt the smallest but of determination, and she spit in his face.
He let out a grunt and took a step back. His anger grew tenfold suddenly, and he let out a full swing on her. 
She screamed at the pain as she fell to the floor another time.
Blood seeped from her nose profusely.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Cregan's voice boomed from down the hall. 
He stood in his usual cloak, no doubt thrown over his small clothes. 
She hiccuped but made no effort to move from the ground in worry of having him see the blood.
"My lord," Garren began, "Your wretch attempted to seduce me in the dead of the night! You've not done your duty!"
Cregan's eyes widened in pure anger. A fire was lit behind the pupils. "My what?"
"Your wretch."
Cregan immediately began swinging, throwing a series of punches at the man.
She sat herself up, looking down at her shift and robe that now were stained with her blood. She let a small whine at the uncomfortable feeling of the liquid running from her nose. 
She let out a grunt and pushed herself up on shaky legs, immediately leaving as quickly as she could.
"Let me in."
She turned to look at the door, pausing the patting of the wet cloth to her nose.
She couldn't let him in like this.
"Leave this for the morrow, Cregan. Please."
She heard his feet shuffle.
"I'm not leaving this door until I'm done with the conversation."
"Well, I do not wish to converse."
"Let me in, or I'll break it down now."
She quickly got up, moving to it and unlocking it. But just as quickly as she had gotten up, she moved back to the vanity.
Cregan stepped in, assessing the room before his gaze settled on her, "My gods."
She turned her head to him, immediately beginning a sudden sob at the look in his eyes. 
He took a step towards her, but she shook her head, "Stop… d… don't please."
He paused, "You've got to let me see."
She shook her head more, "Don't come near me."
Cregan felt offended, "Love, why not?"
"I… I'm… nothing. I don't… I can't take more today… please."
His eyes softened, "What?'
She sniffled, "I can't take another beating, please, my lord."
He felt his stomach drop. "I… I'm not gonna hurt you, my girl."
Hot tears continued down her face, "I didn't mean to. I didn't know he was there…"
He nodded, "I never doubted you. I never did." He took a slow step forward, "Can I look at you?"
She studied him in deep thought before nodding. 
He let out a breath of relief and knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands gently. 
"Nasty hit, huh?"
She scoffed, "That's all you've to say?"
He grimaced, "I have much to say, trust me, pretty."
When her snivels multiplied with the promise of more tears, he quickly corrected himself, "I'm not angered with you."
She looked at him through a blur of tears, "You're not?"
His brows came together, "How could you think that? Of course not. A man beat my wife, and you think I'm mad at you?"
"If you believe him.."
"About what?" He asked incredulously. "You know the horrid things I'll do to that man for what he said?"
She sniffled, "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, "Stop that."
She nodded, "Yes, my lord."
He let out a frustrated sigh, "No. Don't say that."
"What do you wish for me to say?"
"Doesn't matter. You're to call me whatever you wish. You know that." He paused, "Has he brain washed you so easily?"
Another tear fell down her cheek, "I'm just lost."
He nodded and wiped the tear, "I'll find you then. How's that?"
She let out a shaky breath. "Please."
He took the cloth from her hand and tilted her head up as he began to dabble the cloth across her nose.
She spoke after a while, "You can't kill him. He's the high septon."
"He touched you. I'll do whatever I wish with him."
"You'll make an enemy of King's Landing."
"Don't care."
She sniffled, "No?"
"Do you think I'm a formidable opponent because of my worry of making enemies? No." He rubbed a tender spot and apologized, "I'm a formidable enemy because I don't stop until I get what I want."
"And what do you want?"
"His head on a spike and you in my arms."
She smiled, "You have one of those things already."
He chuckled and threw the cloth onto the vanity, "Indeed, I do."
She gasped when he picked her up and took her to the bed.
"In the morning, I'll have them both. Until then, I'll enjoy what I have."
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Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn
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woaza · 1 month ago
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LOVE LOVE LOVE UR SCAR STUFF!!! I am so glad he's starting to get stuff written for him he's so awesome!!!! Please keep going feed us scar fiends
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Scar (Arcane) x reader || Pt.2
Link to Pt.1
Contains : Continuation of my head cannons and thoughts on scar in a relationship and as a person.
Word count : 3.4k
Warnings : Scars baby mama being a little crazy(?), grief, mentions of death, some of this is kind of a stretch?
A/n : I HEAVILY AGREE with you! He needs more written about him. I can never find any it’s so strange. I’m so glad you liked my last scar fic. I will definitely continue to do them! I have a lot of requests for other characters, but I need some of him.
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— Scar is a Vastaya or more specially a Chirean. Well at least some form of a Chirean? (At least from what little there is about him.) Chirean’s were first discovered by a Zaunite miner. They can’t speak human languages but are bat like. Which scar is. So I don’t know if he is a Chirean or at least some sort of subspecies or a descendent. Since he is classified as one and there is very little known about them.
— One thing we know about Chireans are that they are Omnivorous. So they don’t really have any diet restrictions, but most real bats are fruit bats. So Scar will eat meat and vegetables, but fruits are definitely a favorite of his. Just think about it. In the slums food is hard enough to keep on the table. Sweet things (not to mention difficult to grow) like fruits are a rare treat. Scar feels like they are a special treat, but something about fruit just makes him happy. (So bonus points if you have a fruity perfume or cologne?)
— With those bright green eyes of his can definitely see great in the dark. With that being said also more sensitive to lights. When the two of you wake up in the morning he groans in annoyance so loudly when you turn on your nightstand light. Which yes, nobody likes seeing the bright light first thing in the morning. But for him it’s ten times worse. He will burry his face against your body, looking for an escape from the light.
Though with his eyes comes many benefits. Like Late night walks with him are a must. When his daughter (Who in my head I’ve been calling Petra but I read a cute fic where she was called Riri. So I’m in debate of what her name is but I digress) is being watched by Ekko or someone else he trusts, he’ll take you out on late night walks. He loves to hold you close, helping guide you when you can’t see because it’s too dark.
— When you two first start to see each other more romantically. He literally pretends to be so nonchalant. Acting like he’s above slightly cheesy romantic activities. At the start is the type to watch you dance instead of joining in. Despite desperately wanting to. He just wants to make sure your really in it for the long run and not a quick fling. Scar takes his relationships very seriously, especially because of his daughter.
—Since we are in the topic of his daughter, Baby mama? I could see this going a couple different ways— and I don’t know which is worse.
The first way is that he never had a good relationship with her. Maybe it was a hookup or a messy situation in general. He grew up in the slums and probably wasn’t the greatest of a person himself. “True love” wasn’t really the top of his concerns. Until him and this woman had a daughter together. He (immediately) was ready to become more serious because a child was involved (probably because he felt uncared for in his childhood, not wanting to do that to a child?). Though she didn’t want that and hesitated. Eventually leaving him to raise her by himself.
The second way I could see, is him truly falling in love with someone. Finally having a family and starting to build a life. Having a daughter and a small place to call home, that is until the city’s were flooded with shimmer. Losing his wife/partner to it and will never forget her.
In either case I think the mother of his child is another reason he’s kind of concerned with romance and getting closer to you in general. Scared that everything that happened will just repeat itself.
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A/n: maybe more of this? I like making these. BUT I love this photo of him sm. I think it’s cute he’s just genuinely smiling at his daughter.
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godhandler · 3 months ago
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[Martial arts coach! Sukuna x down bad!reader, huge age gap, couple of god-complex maniacs pining for each other, Sukuna being a tough coach]
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“You won’t make it.” Sukuna spits carelessly, unwrapping his sweaty gloves post training. There are promising students he’s scouted in his gym, his favoured ones who’ll be the cash cows winning tournaments, buzzcut boys with tight abs who laugh mid-fight. Growing in his shoes. You’re not one of them. “You’re not good enough.” It’s a statement. 
No, you grit your teeth, it's a challenge. 
Sukuna the Ryomen: beastly calamity in the ring. Raw talent picked off the street, 80 international tournament wins over 25 years, bachelor villa bought with notoriety money. The Undisputed King of the Curses. 
Two-faced, he’d play by the rules as much as he wanted to– ran his tongue over the cheek of an opponent while choking him in a headlock, jammed his knees into countless shattered ribs, snapped spines into halves. He once bit a chunk out an opponent’s neck, goopy blood running down his chin and pecs as he laughed at the horrified screams of the audience, medics running, judges whistling, TV ratings shooting up like firecrackers.
He keeps that piece of chewed flesh, big as your fist, preserved in formaldehyde, on display in his office behind the locker room. It’s oddly captivating– you want to pull his lips up, matching his teeth to the canine marks on the chunk. 
Nutcase. Martial arts fiend. Often disqualified, but never for long: handsome money-maker was he. No one would turn up at a competition if not to watch the fiery Sukuna. His posters filled your childhood bedroom walls, unsupervised access to his gruesome fights on the internet, early 2000’s gossip columns of his many affairs with thin-thighed supermodels, little you copying his moves in front of the mirror. 
So yes, he could be as harsh to you as he wished, who gave a shit now when you’re lucky enough  to bask in his glow? You work just as hard as those boys, deserve his attention just as much, regardless of how cruel that attention comes. If you want to make it, Yuuji tells you, you callus your heart more than your achy knuckles. 
Sometimes at 3.45 am you wonder that if you had gotten more parental love and attention, you wouldn’t have attached yourself so deeply to this retired monster. Too late now, you suppose. 
A few days ago,  Megumi, one of Sukuna’s prize boys, said over a bowl of tteokbokki after practice, “Kamo Noritoshi likes you. So you can go after him and leave the elderly alone, okay?”
“I beat Kamo to a pulp, remember?” You pointed with poked tteok. “There’s only one of you losers I can’t beat and that’s who I’m fucking. Don’t go ruining my ambitions, Megumi-chan.”
The boy just sighed, ordering another bowl to go. Megumi, content being the sacrifice bunt, will never understand and it's not something you can explain. 
It’s that hunger that keeps you awake at night; you don’t want a trophy, you want the trophy– Ryomen Sukuna himself, the greatest one to be won. To be fucked, chewed, swallowed, surpassed. You want to have him, you want to be him. He’s you and you’re him and it’s written fate and oh god you need to go to therapy megumi was right you need to start taking your damn meds on time why is it 3 am again?
……. 
“Sup, coach!” 
You’re a cockroach. You arrive half an hour before session starts, practising kata moves by yourself, grappling dummy puppets double your weight to the ground, turning extravagant somersaults. Standing in front of the line. Every new move Sukuna demonstrates, you ask a billion questions, getting it right exactly as he does it. Running the extra lap, the extra sparring bout with your friends, the extra push-up. 
Sukuna peers inside Megumi's mouth, poking his finger into his gums, checking for any bleeding. Despite his actions, he’s not blind to you, the itchy teeth in your maw. 
It’s not just a sport for people like you and Sukuna. People a little fucked in the head. People whose names, announced out loud, get the audience jumping and cheering, the main attraction of the night. Hurricanes out to flatten the competition. 
See, it’s not about the points. Just the gold doesn’t satisfy: you want blood and broken teeth on the floor after you’re done. You want your opponents to refuse to fight you. You want them crawling, begging for time-outs, their coaches throwing the towel in to save their lives, their teary mothers cursing your very sight. Just like Sukuna.
Sukuna who relishes in your eyes on him. The way your breathing quickens childlike when he wrestles your face to the dirty mat, arms twisted behind you, his heavy foot pinning you down. The way you linger a bit longer when he shrugs his gi off, thick biceps flexing against the overhead lights. What a nut, he thinks: bitten fingernails, daddy issues, all the wrong things that excite you. This one’s gonna kill.  
Your hunger he rears by starvation. The harder you fight for a scrap of his attention to prove yourself, the sweeter you get. He can almost see his own tattoos on your eager face. 
So narcissistic, the way his pants tighten when he watches you fight: it's his devilry that flashes in your young eyes. Too young for him, some noble nonsense of not fucking your student, like he gives a rat’s ass. A rising Alexander, he’ll pick you for himself the second you’re good enough.
He knows to wait for it. Latchkey kids like you, raised to fight for love, you’d never want something you could have. The unreachable glory of Sukuna was what made having him worth it. 
He also knew that once you had him, you’d dig your teeth into him so hard that you’d tear right through him. Maybe preserve him in formaldehyde too. 
Not that he’ll spoon-feed you chances for that. Not that he has to, when you do it for yourself.
“Coach, could you spar with me?”
He’s terribly pleased, but the frown he wears for you remains on his face. “Aiming too high, brat.”
“Sorry,” an apology that you don’t mean in the slightest. “But I think I can qualify for the next tournament, coach. I can start cutting weight tomorrow. Put me in this time, please, coach!” 
“You’re not good enough.”   “Let me convince you, coach.”
“Convince me?” He sounds so bored, as if you’re the greatest waste of his time.
I’ll change your mind, you promise.
I’d like to see you try– he’s amused.
“Oi, Todo! C’mere, beat this one for me. You–” he bends down to hold your chin, privately delighted at your blushing face. “– you score six points in sixty seconds against him, maybe I’ll think of putting you on the tournament roster.”
Right. Aoi Todo, brawler build, has the height and weight advantage on you, which means he’ll go for grappling techniques and try to pin you down to the ground. He’s not the type to go easy on anyone, and he likes to show off, so he’ll keep it short distance and try out some fancy kicks– he’ll waste time on performance and then you’ll get time to return attacks. Here’s the M.O. then: you keep light on your feet, dodge every single attack of his, and go for the head. Amen.
Todo squares up, entering the ring, dabbing you up in a show of good faith before assuming his fighting stance. Just as you predicted, his arms are open to take you down. 
You hold your ground. Todo, my friend, you grin at Sukuna, who for once has all his attention on you, I’m going to kill you. 
Sukuna blows the whistle, and immediately Todo lunges for you. A feint, for he changes tactics immediately and is punching you from the left. You have to jump over his shoulder to avoid it (Yuuji whoops), land behind his back, and before he can turn around, kick his spine so hard that he stumbles forward a bit. 
“2 points!” Sukuna checks the time: it’s been 6 seconds. 
Todo’s impressed too, you can tell. You’re distracted: Sukuna nodded at you! Both of you come back to your original positions, ready for the next point match. The whistle blows. 
He’s cautious this time– you kick his shins but he doesn’t yield an inch, so you attempt an upper-cut, but are caught unawares by his hook straight to your mouth. 
“Todo–1 point!” Your jaw feels dislocated, there’s tears threatening to brim in your eyes. Did you forget your meds again? Why can’t you stop giggling? 35 seconds gone.
Restart. You’re playing dirty now, tripping his ankle as he comes forward to attack. You pass through between his legs (using his height to your own advantage) to get behind him again. As if he was expecting it, you dodge his back kick, taking the moment where he’s off balance to land a 360 kick– right on his face. He groans in surprise, but you’re not done.
This isn’t about winning fair or showing sportsmanship spirit, you remind yourself as you pull Todo’s face into your knee, repeatedly, the sick sounds of his nose cartilage crunching. This is about you, Sukuna. 
He blows the whistle. 42 seconds, the match is over, Todo’s burst his sinuses open, bleeding too badly to avoid medical intervention. A K.O. you’re calling it. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ is Megumi’s opinion. 
“Decent.” Sukuna’s smiling. Buzzed giddy on adrenaline and sweat, you want to kill the both of you. “Fine. Start the diet tomorrow.” He’s already leaving, other students to tend to. You’re a tad disappointed: you thought it’d be him checking your bleeding jaw, not the medic. Still, you’re happy taking what you can. It doesn’t come by often. “Come by my office after practice.”
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a/n: i wrote this while looping bread by anya nami, really elevated the experience
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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 2 years ago
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I just had the Idea, like Imagine, the S/o from Muzan, Koku, Douma and Akaza (seperate) finds a spider and is REALLY Scared of it. How would they react?
The mental image of the S/O shrieking in terror and one of these men just absolutely pegging it all the way from one side of the house to the other just to find out its a spider that scared the S/O amuses me greatly (≧▽≦)
Also I have arachnophobia and honestly spiders get my skin crawling in terror... they just give me the ick
Honestly thanks for sliding this into my askbox! It was fun to imagine and write what these men would think and do during such a scenario!
Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma/Doma + Akaza reacting to their S/O being scared of a spider - Headcanons:
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Muzan Kibutsuji:
He was just doing an experiment, just messing around with chemicals to get a reaction
When he hear's you scream
Fucking speed demon o'hoy as he speeds across the house to find you, nails hardening and lengthen and tentacles wanting to burst out from his skin to get rid of what's harmed you
And when he reaches where you are, hands cracking the foundations of the door with a snarl on his lips until his eyes land on you
Muzan stands there - his fear quells and is instead replaced with a thankful neutrality - breathing slowly reverting back to normal as he takes in your shaken form standing on one of the tables in the home's library
With a quirk of his brow his gaze drifts to where your shaking finger points and lands on the calm + poised form of a spider
Muzan stares at it
The spider stares back
Before it's promptly squished under a book
Your carried out of the room like a bride
"For scaring me you get to sit in my lab" Muzan says, going back to mixing chemicals "And if your good, it'll be me that makes you scream in ecstasy later"
Muzan knows spider's scare you so usually just kills them before you see one - although the odd few go get to live
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Kokushibo:
Kokushibo was meditating - his usual activity after a long day
It's silent, the house in a state of stillness and the world outside holding it's breathe as Kokushibo breathes in...then out..
And its shattered by your scream of fear
His body moves quicker than his mind
Hand on his katana as he rushes to where you are and as see's you cowering in the hallway, eyes flicking to and fro to see where your fear is placed to see the 8-legged fiend
"It's a spider...." He states plainly, eyes blinking as his stance relaxes "......again?"
"Can you please make it go away!" You whisper-shout, eyes peaking through your fingers at him "It's really scary"
Kokushibo simply sighs
Moving silently to catch the spider with a drinking cup and a piece of parchment from the ceiling and releasing it outside
He picks you up and dusts you off with a small smile
"Next time just shout my name, I'll handle the spiders"
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Douma/Doma:
Douma/Doma had just finished a sermon
Narrowly escaping his followers clutches from having to give more false kindness and advice that he probably didn't mean
Until he hears you scream
Fear flushes his insides cold and worry makes his chest ache as he runs to your shared quarters
First, he blinks - taking in the scene of your shaking form and the rather harmless spider on the wall
Then his brain starts working at a mile a minute before everything clicks into place
You (S/O) + Spider + Scream from you = Fear = New form of entertainment
Douma/Doma smirks - something filled with malice and a polite mock sympathy - before making his way across the room to soothe you
Before promptly catching the spider and chasing you with it...
Yes, this is funny for him and no, he won't stop until he's tired
After having his fun - for what felt like a millennia - Douma/Doma releases the spider outside
And with a chuckle, kisses your forehead and leaves you
Douma/Doma just doesn't understand why you're scared of spiders until you sit down with him before bed and tell him off for earlier
After that he orders his followers to either kill spiders on sight or move them into the garden
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Akaza:
He was training in the garden when he heard you scream out in terror
Making record time to get to you by simply leaping from the garden through the bedroom's open window
Eyes moving wildly trying to find the source of your terror - his heart aching when seeing your eyes shimmering with tears and a scared wobble to your lip
Until landing on the black mass on the floor scuttling about... "a....a spider?" He says inquisitively, his head tilting in confusion
When he realizes that it was the spider that made you scream, Akaza kinda just stares at it for a little while before joining you on the bed to get away from it and soothe you
Then 5 minutes roll into 10 minutes and your both sat there, chilling on the bed in a hug and waiting for the spider to leave
"It's gone now...."
Accidentally stands on the spider
Yes, he screams
No, the spider doesn't make it
But you do get to laugh
Akaza now doesn't go near spiders....
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robolvrr · 2 months ago
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Hi! I’m 19 just to clarify in case of anything.
Can I request HCS for TFA Optimus and Megatron with a childish human female reader, that basically yaps a lot and is energetic asf?
I was also wondering if you could make a NSFW version too? Tysm☺️🙏💕
hey non! gladly. 🤖
nsfw under the cut.
all charged up! ⊰⁠⊹ฺ⚡
tfa! optimus & megatron headcanons for a childish/energetic reader (fem! human)
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"no, don't touch that. wh -- no, don't touch that either! oh, by the allspark, hellooo!"
optimus prime
remember when i said optimus stressed out protecting humanity?
yeah, this was primarily the source of why.
he's always got tons of responsibility placed on his shoulders.
his team, for one, is always managing to get themselves into trouble and while he cares for them deeply, he's gonna start gaining faceplate dents like ratchet.
so when you get fumbled in the crew? he thinks that maybe karma is out to get him from some past transgression.
"can i touch that?"
"no."
"how about.. this!"
"wh-- no. are you trying to lose one of those things?"
"fingers?"
"not the point. it's an axe, not a toy."
he chides you just like everyone else out of love.
if he didn't care (which just isn't in his circuits, is there a rusted piston anywhere in that heroic frame?) he'd let you go wild.
when the threat of death isn't looming though?
finds your characteristics to be rather charming. he is after all familiar with bee and the twins and sari.
you have a strange way of encouraging him to relax, believe it or not. remind him life isn't just work and balancing the universe in his servos.
when he isn't in a mood, he likes to listen to you ramble.
you have a unique perspective. like how you talk to him for hours about how you thought ghosts were real and ask silly questions about his culture like "do you guys eat rocks?"
he goes to you the most to consult about earth.
hyperfixations? he may not understand a lick of yours or just what "my little pony was and how it changed the internet for years to come", but he lets you animatedly describe every thought on every inch of your brain.
let's you sit on his shoulders.
similar to your planet, you've gotten him warmed up to you.
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"just how much longer do you plan on prattling, little one?"
megatron
he's mean.
i mean, what do you expect from an galactic warlord?
not to say he doesn't find amusement in the behavior. his lackeys frequently argue and get into ridiculous situations and arguments on a cycles basis.
however, he doesn't like organics. given his predicament, fiending without the power of a frame to push his narratives for so long builds resentment.
at first he finds you an absolute nuisance. you were really a comment away from having shockwave get a hold of you instead.
he's kidnapped you from the autobots because similar to that meddlesome doctors offspring, they clearly hold high regards for you.
you just didn't stop talking.
yes, you got the large glass jar treatment.
yes, he did rattle it once when you asked him if "decepticons sounded like band name."
when he's feeling boredom, he'll demand you try to say anything interesting.
he holds little regard to your feelings. though he does find the need, almost craving, for you to constantly be restless.... somewhat entertaining.
think of how one looks at a mangy mutt. (isn't he a gentlemech?!)
nsfw.
optimus prime
"hahhh.. hff. just h-how long can you keep up this pace, haha!?"
you have the libido of a bunny.
optimus learns the hard way, when you first start to get intimate.
you're eager -- you both are -- but he finds your wandering hands to be almost overwhelming as you just can't keep still.
you ask him lots and lots of questions. how big is he? can you lick his valve? are those fluids toxic? do you need to get protection?
his helm is hot to the touch. he ends up putting his digit in your mouth as a distraction.
interfacing with you is never slow. it's why he has to concentrate every control filter to not slamming into you when you claw at his array and whine at him to stop being a bully.
he's about to correct you but of course, you're talking. his audials are close to setting on fire.
you shove yourself on his spike and he bites his dermas hard, because you're just so eager and he's way too big. just the tip is enough to create a bulge at your mound and suddenly, his intake feels very, very dry.
you're so talkative. too talkative.
"ha... mmn! your spike is so, so good! i-i can't believe i'm doing this! sex with a giant. ahn! robot!!! this is the best day of my life!"
his optics are burning and bright. your excitement drips down his shaft.
when the compliments get to be too much, he ends up grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind you, bouncing your body against his hips.
he silences you a lot with kisses. not out of annoyance (though sometimes you do get too loud and he's not trying to risk waking up the entire base), but because you fluster him so damn bad.
when he overloads and you're squealing, he lifts you up just to see the sticky transfluid roll down your ankles.
".... another round?"
"another!?"
megatron
"not so chatty now, are you little one?"
megatron's cruelty does not stop at the berthroom.
his way of dealing with your nonstop buzzing? is to simply frag it out of you.
it's painfully indulgent. you're the size of nothing compared to him, a behemoth of a being outside your comprehension. he treats you like a sleeve.
you ask the stupid notion if maybe he needed to get his frustration out in a more "fun" way.
then maybe he wouldn't be so gloomy all the time!
the look he gives is terrifying. that smile isn't helping either....
all that energy and innocent glee? he plans on putting to good use.
now, he finds your cherub nature enchanting. how you whine and chirp out silly protests, huffing how he's just a "big, bad meanie" and you were gonna "make him regret it, so help it!"
"yesss, yesss. cry harder, little human."
takes you from behind so he can stick a single digit in the pocket of your cheek. you loll your tongue out in a way he finds appealing and stupid.
when you go on rambles amidst his planning, primarily when you are bored and lonely, don't be surprised if he opens his panels at your chin and pops it in between your lips.
"am... i... ffff.. a-am i gonna get pregnant with your little ro--"
"don't finish that imbecilic question unless you want this to be the last time, girl."
megatron's human concubine. there's a first time in history for everything, after all.
deep down? he doesn't want you to change a bit. he rather likes breaking you down.
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