#i like it when they are good on the inside :> and try to turn things around and save ppl they love but they meet a tragic end anyways :')

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[yeyinde]

touch starved reader with an oral fixation x kidnapper!Simon who’s all punishment and no physical affection? Please Simon just a little kiss? with tongues? :( (i just wanna make out with this man while my heart aches for him)

by Allah, you people are dogs. i will write the filth as usual.

DEAD DOVE, 18+ | dubcon. kidnapping. mean!Simon. dom!Simon. masking corporal punishment as affection. kissing. size kink, size difference. some thigh riding. degradation + humiliation (verbal). non-con pet play. marking (heavyyyyyy mentions of Simon biting you like a chew toy). choking. daddy kink (but in the awful, demeaning way). manipulation. forced affection. coersion. forced/manufactured dependency. brief mention of Simon stepping on your back to hold you down so he can whip you w a cat o nine tails. yanno. the usual Friday night.

idk. there's something so hot about you, completely naked, riding Simon's clothed thigh as he holds you up by your neck. tongue out, desperate for a kiss while he just mocks you the whole time.

It's survival. 

At first.  

A means of masking the innate horror of being stripped of your agency, your autonomy, by a man you barely even know. One you met once before (fate sealed), and now—outside of your apartment complex where he was idling by the foothold, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall, head turned. Gaze narrowed as you approached. 

Waiting for someone, you assumed, thinking nothing else about the matter. 

Nothing else, except—

He looked familiar. You think you saw him before. He was staring at you. Hadn't stopped. Hasn't said a word, either. The silence was oppressive. Heavy. Your hands fumbled with the keys. Shaking. Trembling. 

He's pretty, you thought, suddenly. In the way car wrecks can sometimes be. Jarring and awful and hideous, but—

Mesmerising. 

Macabre. And that's what he is. Everything from the mask on his face (skulls, go figure), to the absurdity in his size, his width. The way space itself seemed to move around him, bending and distorting just to let him pass. His own gravitational pull. Magnetic. You feel it tugging on you as he pulls another lungful of smoke. Another. Another.  

(like an hourglass, a timebomb, almost. you wonder what will happen when it runs out—)

He gives you the creeps. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. A visceral sense of unease curdling in the pit of your belly as he keeps staring, staring. Eyes—crystalline under the broken headlamp, washout into crushed topaz—drilling into your back, sharp enough to flay skin. Everything inside of you says to run, but your key won't fit inside the lock. Won't—

Ever. 

And hindsight has always been a bitter thing, hasn't it? Cruel in her mockery. Had you known, then, that he wasn't a workman loitering by the complex, waiting for a friend; or a low-level drug dealer casting webs into the plum hewn aether, it might have saved you. Might have. 

Maybe. Because he was there, waiting for you, all along. 

Life has a funny way of paying back good deeds. All it took for your life to crumble down around you, rubble falling off of a shaking mountain, was kindness. Was seeing a large man in the pouring rain, already drenched. Black clothing sticking to the granite contours of his body, and offering sanctum in the shape of a rusting umbrella you found at a thrift store for three dollars. 

(“here,” you said, chipper. All smiles. “i live just down the street, and you look like you need it more than i do. do you want it?”

and he—

he simply stared. stared. his eyes liquid, molten, as they carelessly dropped, roaming down the length of your body at his own leisure. leering. assessing. it was odd. weird, but—

he huffed, then. seemingly satisfied by whatever you measured up to in his head. his neck lulled back, and he gazed at you from down the crooked length of his nose, tucked neatly away under the thick band of a facial mask. skulls. how could you be so stupid? 

slowly, like he was trying not to startle a mare, his gloved hand reached out, curling thick fingers around the hilt of it. he tugged once. in your stupor, you forgot to let go. embarrassment flooded in. he huffed again, quietly amused, as you untangled your numbed fingers from the umbrella. 

in your distraction, he moved closer. smelled of ash, of mildew. sweat and stale cigarettes. there was something predatory in the way he slipped through space. a preternatural quiet. an eerie stillness. 

you hadn't realised he was there, looming, until he rasped out, “more ‘n you could ever realise, pet.”

and you're sure why you do it. did it. but your hand slips into your shopping bag, eyes widen. heart thundering in your chest. 

“are you hungry? i, uh, i just bought some apples, um—”

his eyes are lavascapes. shackles. chains. “i could eat.”)

And now—

Forced to play this strange cat and mouse of his where he treats you like soot on the bottom of his shoe, and you pretend that it's affection. Love. How godless.  

Protection, he calls it. 

("mine," he whispers, orison soft, into your ear. "ain't go' nowhere else to go, do you, pet? world's big. would eat a small thing like you up. safer here. wit' me. only me.") 

You wonder what he'd do if you told him the biggest danger here was the madness nestled inside your head, the one that sometimes made you look at him like he was your salvation instead of the warden holding the end of your leash in a firm hand. Unyielding—like everything he does. Is. 

Withholding, too. Everything must be earned. Nothing given. Nothing handed out. And you know that this is a ploy, a tactic. Subterfuge meant to chisel into your sense of self, dehumanise you. Turn you into a simpering, obedient little doll for him to play with as he wishes. You know this, and yet—

It's survival, you promise yourself as he tugs on the hook latched to your collar, testing it for weakness. Survival, when his hands—bare, bare; warmed skin against skin, you could just weep—brush over your throat, nails skimming goosebumped flesh as he wedges one, then two inside, hirsute knuckles tickling your pulse. It tightens the collar to near choking. Intentional, you know. He likes it when you beg—for air, for food, water, him. 

Vile man. Awful. 

(You want to roll on your belly at his feet.)

This cold, cruel touch lights a fire under your skin. It's been months since he's last done so. Always wearing gloves when he has to. Using paddles, belts, when you misbehave. Never his bare hand. Not anymore. 

(“m’hand is for good girls,” he slurred, words merging, meshing together, painted with exertion. He wedged his boot against the small of your back, holding you down, and cracked the end of a cat over your bare ass, thighs. Unbothered by your howls, your screams, as the whip bit into your skin. You've never so much as been hit as a child for misbehaving, and now, as an adult, you have a madman standing over you, introducing you to something called a cat o’nine tails—a favourite in the army, lovie. “bad girls,” his boot pressed down harder, heel digging into your spine. “Bad girls get the whip—”)

Bad. Bad. Because you tried to run, to leave him. He dressed you up, called you Mrs Riley, and you—

Ducked out the back door when he turned away for a second. 

Stupid. It was poor timing. A test. He set you up, measuring your loyalty to him, your commitment, and you failed. Failed. 

(“this is what ‘appens when spoiled little cunts get their way too much. they act out, don't they? bitin’ the ‘and that feeds. you'll learn soon enough, though—”)

Ghost—sir, sir (master, maker, god; you'll call him anything he wants if he touches you again)—pulls his fingers away, depriving you of his touch once more. And it's all so stupid. So fundamentally wrong, deplorable, but you follow. Needy. Whining for it in the back of your throat. 

It's been months. Months without touch. Without sensation outside of leather lashing across your thighs, your ass; harsh, gloved fingers digging into your jaw, braced against the back of your head, as you swallow down his cock in an effort to prove to him you've been good. So good. Can be good. His good girl. 

You need to touch him. Need his touch. Ache for it, for something outside of this nook he placed you inside of, denied the privilege of living upstairs with him after you tried to escape. 

You want to. Badly. Your fingers twitch. Ghost sees it. Hums. 

“Need somethin', pet?” 

Your mouth is dry. You swallow. It burns. It hurts. “Yes—”

“Yes, what?”

“Sir—”

Behind the mask he's yet to take off for you fully, only ever hitching it under his chin to devour your cunt whenever you've been good, his jaw tightens, the fabric bunching up. 

You reel back from the look of sheer displeasure etching harsh lines into the hollow gaps of his eyes. Heart thundering. Stomach churning. 

“Mas—” he cuts you off with a soft sigh. Marked with his irritation. “D—dad—”

Dad. A new one. Daddy. He didn't seem like the sort to be into this type of play, not with his sardonic, deadpan eyes. His mockery. His dessicated humour, awful and biting. You'd have sooner expected him to laugh at you—in that slow, deep hum he gives; a little chuff, full of condescension and jeer—than to get off on it. On you, kneeling between his legs with your chin braced against his palm, mouth open, tongue out, as he fucks into the tight clench of his fist, groaning as you beg daddy to give you a taste. 

It's gross. Disgusting. 

It's not done for anything else other than to humiliate you. To crush you under the heel of his boot—little bug—so that you will always know where your place is in this scenario. His little wife. Mother, mum—

He pulls on the leash, jerking you forward. Purrs, “good girl,” and then steps back, moving away from you. Cruel. Dismissive. You hate him, hate him—

(Need him so deeply. With every fibre of your being—)

You watch him as he goes, mourning the loss of his presence already, as he paces around your space, your cage. Broad shoulders barely fitting inside. Head ducking to avoid hitting his crown on the popcorn ceiling. It's strange seeing him here like this. Prowling. He usually comes when he wants you, when he needs to enact more merciless punishment on you for whatever perceived evils you committed (not greeting him with a kiss when he walked in, not letting him suffocate himself in your cunt when he had you sit on his face, not making him cum all over your face quick enough when you knew he had other engagements to get to—), or when he ruts, heavily, between your thighs, cold and detached. Seeking pleasure from your icy flesh, and giving nothing in return but white hot agony. 

Him here, idling in your presence, is revolutionary. 

“S–sir—?”

He hums, quiet. Sits in the chair as you gather the fragments of yourself littered on the ground. His mood is malleable, it seems. 

You push, fingertips sinking into the putty of his agreeable temperament. “Can I—”

You waver when his sharp eyes raze over your bare body—clothes are for good girls, after all—pupils sloshing over the edges, bleeding into midnight blue. 

Your body is a battlefield. Every inch of skin branded with his mark—pretty, thrawn rings of teeth tattooed in silver, haloed in black and red, desecrate your flesh: neck, collarbones, breasts, belly, thighs (a particular favourite of his), ass, mons; all bitten through, chewed up. It weeps when you move, has blood trickling down your skin. The cracking scabs make him coo, poor thing, all bloody fer me? and he licks at them, sucks, until only a pinkish wound in the mimesis of canines remains. 

Uprooted, turned into something new—

His chest expands when he settles his gaze on the sliver of space between your spread thighs. Concealed in tenebrous, hidden from his leering, lecherous view. He cocks his head, considers something unknown to you. His thoughts, his mind, worlds away. Untouchable. 

(only to bad girls, he’d snarled out when you asked why—)

“Testin’ my patience still?” He doesn't rip his gaze away from your cunt, speaks to it sometimes more than he speaks to you. “Thought this alone time might’a cleared your ‘ead.”

You flush. Embarrassment roiling through you. His displeasure is a palpable thing. Heavy. You hate the weight of it. 

“I need—I need you.”

Another toneless hum. “‘Course you do. Ain't got anyone else.”

He's awful. Hideous. You want to rip his tongue out of his mouth. “I—I want you. Please.”

Ghost doesn't answer. You stopped expecting him to a long time ago, his moods odd measures of ebbs and flows; passive and mild, cracking terrible, awful jokes as he strokes your back, hands riveted to your skin, and then biting and caustic the next. Pushing and pushing until you lash out, snap, so he has a reason to push you down, punished and smothered under his bulk, as he ruts into you like a beast, a man starved. Tells you it's for your own good. That you need him. Would be lost without him. 

Bludgeoning a hole into you wide enough for him to crawl inside of. Poisoning you from the inside out with the same nocuous rot that flows in his veins. 

Maybe that's been his agenda all along. Maybe. To make you want him as badly as he wanted you. Desperate, obsessive. Going so far as to follow you home, lost little mutt waiting in the shadows outside of your door until you threw him another bone. And when that didn't work, when the food stopped being enough—

He took you. Held you captive in his house deep in the wilderness. A place so endlessly green that you sometimes stare out at it—unfathomable sea of phalthos and jasper—and feel dizzy. You'll get lost out there—

just like he says. 

As he turns your obsecration over in his head, you wait, supplicant to this man as you rest on your knees. Pretty pet with a golden collar adorned in gems. 

Fitting, you find. With his head cradled against his thick knuckles, you can't help but shiver at the way he looks shrouded in the gloaming embers of a fading twilight. Leonine. A king perfectly at ease in this thick, caliginous atmosphere.

His eyes burn, magmatic, in the low light. Vats of endless ink. Black holes that will swallow you whole if you get too close. But he's poised. Contemplative. Assessing. 

And then grips the end of the leash tight in his other hand. Tugs.  

You obey the wordless command, crawling on your hands and knees to where he's spread out on the recliner. Laxed, dripping with a careless indifference as you wander to him, resting your chin on the spread of his knee. 

Looking up, up, at him, waiting. Wanting. 

There's so much of him—a fact that has been the catalyst to your downfall the moment you saw him standing under the awning; this massive creature. Thighs wider than the width of your body. Burly forearms. Broad shoulders. He's big. Indomitable. Thick, endlessly so. But there's a give to his body. Valleys of softness hiding corded muscle. Firm, but—

Your fingers sink into the soft give of his belly when you reach out, bracing against stomach. Pulling yourself further into the bracket of his spread thighs, inching closer to him. 

He meets your reverent stare, eyes liquid along his lower lash line.

“Thought you were gonna keep me waitin’ all night,” he muses, giving another pull on the leash. It destabilises you. Your nose bumps into his sternum, and you moan at the sting. 

There's a dissonance in the back of your head. A hairline fracture in the line that keeps a degree of separation between pleasure and pain. They meet against the crack in the divide, merging into a abysmal polyphony conducted by his hand. 

He watches, amused, as you whimper, sniffing harshly against the burn. It's not bleeding, and not broken—small mercies, you suppose—and you let it simmer into a dull ache as you slowly clamber into his lap.

Ghost leans back as you settle, greedily taking in the sight of your thighs stretched wide over his leg, cunt pressed, tight, against the rough scrape of his jeans. The touch burns. He hasn't touched your pussy in weeks—

“C’mon,” he urges, hand spanning the width of your lower back. Coaxing. “Show me ‘ow good you can be.”

It's all the permission you need. Slowly, slowly, your hips start to gyrate, dragging your slit over the coarse material. The friction is agony. You need more—

He draws his other hand up, curls it around your neck, forcing your head back, back. You gasp, staring at him, dizzy, from down the slope of your nose. The clasp of the collar digs into your skin. It hurts. It's too much. 

you don't want him to stop. 

His hand is huge. It spans the entire length of your neck, thumb to your pulse, pinky grazing the hollow of your throat. It forces you to lift your chin higher just to let him fit.

He likes it, too, you know. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of his bare hand, scarred and thick; dusted with a cropping of fine hairs along his scabbed knuckles, sitting against the whole of your throat. Swallowing you up. Can feel how much he enjoys the sheer depth between your sizes when his cock twitches, stiffening more

The look on his face is appraising, anatomising. There's a cold measure of distance in his gaze. A barren polynya. You want to cross it. Chart these untamed lands until they're deeply ingrained within your being. Cimmerian effigy burning to keep you warm. 

It's survival, you think, and arch into the palm of his hand. 

He holds you like a doll. One hand on your lower back, pressing your cunt to thigh. The other tightening around your throat. Bare skin against bare skin, and oh, you could just cry—

But this is not what you need. What you want. And he knows. He always does. Knows the inside of you like it's written down—inked on paper. Thumbs through the makeup of you, chapter by chapter, until no mystery remains. 

“Tell me what you need, pet. Beg for it.” 

“Let me—” his hands tighten, choking the air from your throat. Crushing your collar against your neck. “Lemme—kiss you, please, please—”

Tighter. Tighter. The world around you swims under a thin ocean. Phosphenes swim, untethered, in your periphery, ghosting along the curve of his shoulders. He might kill you yet. Keeping going, going, until those brittle, bird-like bones in your neck snap—

You'd let him, you think, muscles falling lax. Submissive. Just the way he says he likes even though you know he fucks you harder, touches you more, more, when you act out. Misbehave. 

“Kiss me?” He taunts, words abrasive. Strident. Scrubbing hard against your skin. “Ain't that jus’ the sweetest thing I ever ‘eard.” 

You burn, blister. “Please—”

“Reckon I ought to. Kissed your pretty cunt ‘fore I even kissed your lips, huh, pet?” 

Your chest folds over itself. Stomach knotting. Balling tight. Unease is a razor blade scraping your nerves. 

“Simon—”

“Ah, ah—” his hand tightens. Vicious. Chiding. “You ‘aven’t earned the privilege of sayin’ my name, ‘ave you? Cheeky thing. Might ‘ave to take a cane to you next.” 

“No, no, no—! I'm—”

“Sorry?” He mocks, cocking his head. Condescension drips from the corners of his eyes. 

“Please, sir—”

“Dad is gettin’ tired of this attitude of yours, pet—” his fingers dig into your skin, hard. Biting. A warning, you know. The blunt press of a blade to your jugular. But it thrums along the suture line to your desire, a wellspool of murk coiling low in your guts. You throb, cunt clenching down around nothing. Achingly empty. “Thought we got rid of it this time ‘round. Learned our lesson.”

The words are frank, prosaic. Had you any sense of self still malingering in the back of your head, you might have struck him for the blatant disrespect. But as you struggle to reach for it, pawing around in the vacuous abyss for any fragment of who you were before this, before him, you know—without any doubt—that none exists. Nothing. He’s too ingrained in your marrow, hewn into your skin. Copper sutures holding his filament within you. Cradled between your thighs, nestled in the rotting vacancy of your heart. 

He knows you. Every part—

“We did—we did, da—daddy, please—” 

It’s shallow. Muffled, like he’s trying to swallow it down, but you feel it rumble through his broad chest. A guttural sound. A groan. Drenched in pleasure, in want. So thick, you could almost taste it. 

He hides his need under a layer of derision. 

“Such a needy thing, ain't you? Desperate little slag like you wouldn't last out there, would you?” 

His hand digs into your hip, pushing you off of his thigh. Eyes skewering into the wet stain on his trousers. A huff spills out—the sound a near perfect mimicry of crushing charcoal in your hand. 

“No. You'd be eaten alive. Torn to pieces. World's too big for somethin' like you.”

Mindless, dazed, you nod. Arching into him. The leather leash snaps against your chest. “Yes, yes—”

His cock presses into your thigh, hard, fat. Your mouth waters. Drool dribbles down your chin. 

He smells of tinder when he leans in close, blood drenched words biting into your skin. “messy today, aren't you? Be lost without me. Tha’s why you wear a collar, isn't it?”

Pitifully, you nod. Eyes full of tears. Each word is a bludgeon into your resolve. Into your sense of self. 

But it earns you his affection, and his thumb presses into the corner of your mouth, unhinging your jaw until it falls open, lax. He holds you like that, mouth lax with his hand still around your neck. The other lifts away from your lips, goes to the thick band around the bridge of his nose, slips inside. 

There's no buildup to it. No lingering sense of anticipation. Practical, detached, he merely tugs it down, and lets it snap under his chin. 

Your breath is punched out of your lungs at the sight of him. Barefaced. Scarred. His nose is crooked; a jagged hook with scar tissue delineating the spots where it's been broken too many times. His lips are—

Full. 

Mangled. 

Scars run in thick slashes over them, denting the flesh in places. Burn marks line his pale flesh. Charcoal rubs into his eyes, highlighting the whites of his lashes against smeared soot. 

He's—

Pretty. 

Like a car crash. Calamity. The broken remains of a town after a hurricane, a tornado, ripped it apart. Ugly, brutal. His face looks like it's been mauled by a bear, a tiger. Scarred and hideous, and—

You shiver. His eyes drop, landing on your own lips. The soot on his brow flutters down, lands on his eyelashes when he lifts his brow up mockingly. Derision curdling an awful smirk on the corner of his mouth. Crooked. Like him. Like his teeth. His nose. His boxy jaw. His lips—

You kiss him. 

Can't help yourself, really. There's a pull. Gravitational. Magnetic. You need, need, to taste him. To quench this ache in your jaw that makes you want to wrap your tongue around something, play with it between your teeth. Soft and sweet—

Ghost's lips are plump beneath yours. The thick scar tissue is almost velveteen when it glides over your bottom lip. You moan into it, into the feeling; victory—however pyrrhic—swims like mercury in your veins. Finally. 

And he doesn't kiss you back. Doesn't make any effort to reciprocate at all, but he's not tense beneath you. Not stunned. Or reluctant. He’s pliant. Malleable. Agreeable, willing to let you devour his mouth, his taste, as much as you want. Doting. Letting you spoil yourself on him. With him.

Because you need him, don't you? 

Like the air you breathe. The food he gives you—apples, always, on rainy days; salmon and rice in a pretty bowl with your name etched into the porcelain—and the attention, the affection—

(suck my cock, pretty girl. don't make me put a gag on you—deeper, you can take it, can't you? take my fat cock all the way up inside your sweet little cunt—my pretty girl—)

—it’s all so divine. 

His hands on your body, your throat, spasm. Once. Just once. Against your leg, his cock twitches. Leaks prespend into the demin. You rut against his thigh, aching for it. Whimpering—

And then he's groaning into the kiss, snarling out your name until it wedges between your lungs, syphoned in from his scorching breath. Another brand in the shape of him. 

Ghost kisses the same way he eats—messy, sloppy; all teeth and tongue, and full pretty lips. Clumsy, like no one taught him how to properly hold his silverware and he's trying to mock what he saw on television. Brumish. A broken, contemptuous pastiche of sumptuosity. A starving dog, snarling around its plundered morsel. Protective. Possessive. 

It coils around you. Thick, smothering. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, catching it between his teeth. The sting brings tears to the corner of your eyes, and when you pry them open, you find him already staring at you (always, always, always—), lidded. Heavy pools of desire shaded in the brume of a winter dawn. A bonfire flickering in the distance of a whiteout. Sanctuary from the cold—

He seems to catch himself. Expression flickering. Warbling around the edges. It closes off in a blink. He pulls back. Locks into the ashlar veneer of this indifference he wears like a suit of armour. 

But you saw it. It was there. Within reach—

“Need me, don't you?” He drawls, timber a needlepoint between cruelty and desire. Sultry, low. Husky. He knows what it does to you. How he can unravel you at the seams with just his voice alone. “Need me so fuckin’ much, pet. Would be lost without me—”

“Please, Simon,” you whisper, feather-soft. Cunt throbbing, pulsing. Needy. “Please—”

The strident reprimand for using his name doesn't come. His hand tightens around your throat, unconscious. A paroxysm that has pleasure carving itself down your spine, electric. 

“Come get it, then,” he rasps, voice wrecked. Raw. Curling at the edges, thickening his accent until the words elide. 

Hand to your throat, he drags you close. Closer still. Keeps you sat pretty on his lap as he pulls you in for a bruising, hungry kiss. Tongue shoving between your teeth when you gasp.

His kisses are always hungry, but this is different. Greedy. He devours you whole. Eats you alive. His hand falls to your lower back, holding you tight to his chest.

You moan into it, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Squeezing until your knuckles blanche, joints twinging in discomfort. 

After months of nothing, this alone is bliss. His taste soaking onto your tongue, drenching it in the bitter tang of sage, wheatgrass, and stale cigarettes. Intoxicating. It leaks into you, nocuous. Infects from the inside out. 

His plan coming to fruition, you think. What he sought out to do all along, ever since you wandered close to this untameable Tartarean guard, and offered yourself up to the jowls of a starving beast. 

He pulls away with a heavy breath, eyes charing around the edges; brittle briquette. 

“Gonna be a good girl from now on? Come upstairs, be a good mum for dad? Or am I gonna ‘ave to cane this—” his hand drops, grabbing a fistful of your ass in his hand, fingers digging into the skin between your cheeks. Possessive. It cracks like a whip down your nerves. “—tight lit’le arse?”

You shake your head instantly. Quickly. “I'll be good,” you whisper into his chin, tongue flicking out to lick across his scars. The dried sweat on his skin tastes briny. Reminds you of the ocean on a brumous November evening. The incipient yawn of a ravenous hurricane gathering its lot on the shore. 

Sirens blare in the distance. Fear curdles in your guts, sits heavy like a stone. An anchor. 

“So sweet f’me,” he mutters, words deepening as his head falls back, letting you pepper kisses across the underside of his jaw. Mouthing along the constellation of scars. His voice is rumble. It shivers across your lips, tongue. Shakes the marrow in your bones. “Better stay this way, pet.”

Into his pulse, you murmur, “I think you like it better when I’m bad.” 

You can feel the snarl brimming in the back of his throat. Your ass stings with the phantom burn of when he lashed out with the whip. It drags a whimper out from deep within your chest. 

His hand tightens around your neck. A warning. “Got some guests over f’dinner tonight. Would love to finally introduce them to my sweet little wife—” deft fingers slip across the dewy skin of your folds, knuckles grazing over your drenched hole. The touch makes you squirm. “But if you’re gonna be bad, then I’ll leave you locked up down ‘ere.”

“I’ll be good,” you swear, words a hushed breath over his jugular. His finger flattens, drawls soft, slow circles around your clit. “Ah, I’ll—I’ll be so, so good, Simon—”

“Good girls deserve rewards, don’t they?” His palm flexes possessively around your throat when you nip at old scar tissue. “Maybe I’ll let you sleep in our bed tonight instead of in your dog house. We can ‘ouse together. I’ll fuck you proper—” he roughly shoves two fingers into your hole, leering when you gasp, back arching in a bow. “Know this pretty pussy has been achin’ for me, ‘asn’t it? Gonna breed it full—”

There’s static in your head, ringing in your ear. The noise distorted, pulled underwater. You think you say something, plead—no, no, no, anything but that—but his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pushing up, up into you, notching against that spot inside that makes your head swim, your vision flicker. The abyssal chasm inside of you aches, rages; its waters swell, currents frothing, slamming against the ceiling of its iron prison, and—

Simon pulls away. Fingers stilling inside of you. No friction, no relief. Hypoxia renders the world silent. Muted. Held in stasis, stagnating at the edge of a gaping precipice he holds you over, secured by the fragile curve of your neck, fine bone china. 

Phosphenes swim by. The chossy wobbles.

This distance is agony. You need to be closer, closer, to crawl inside of him, to live in the brackets of his ribs, safe and protected from the world he warns you about. Stone cold. You mewl, whine—

“Gonna be my good little wife?”

Gasping with broken lungs, you nod. Nod, nod until you’re nauseous. Dizzy. Sick—

His spit cools on your lip. Your hackles raise, body shuddering in revulsion—some primal part rears, hisses it’s infectious. Wrong. Get rid of it—

“Not gonna run?”

Slowly, you lick your lips, catching his sickness on your tongue. Swallowing it down until it sinks like a stone to the bottom of your belly. Heavy, for such a small, damning thing. 

How absurd, you think. How absolutely mad. 

Then you whisper, paperthin, “kiss me again, please, Simon—”

And he moves. Liquid in the gloam. Made more for shadows, midnight, than for golden apricity, where the light is harsh on his face, unveiling ruins and ravines; monoliths meant to be paid tribute to in the dark. Your hands lift to his jaw when he moves in, catching your lips in a bruising, biting kiss. 

His touch is searing. Owning. He isn't laying claim: no, you're already his. 

It's possessive and angry. No finesse. All slate teeth and tender tongue. They slide together in a strange game; little fawn stupidly nipping at the tiger's heel. He lets you, groaning into your mouth when you arch back, hips pushing into his fingers, taking him deeper. A pale pantomime of what's to come when he lays you on his soft bed, sweet and divine, and buries himself deep. 

It should scare you. Ought to. And maybe it does. Survival, you think, but you still pull him closer. Deeper. Because it’s bliss, you find. The world around you falling dead. Silent. Pulled into a vacuum. Teetering on the edge of a black hole, event horizon. He drags you in. 

Simon hums, pulling you closer. Touching you—soft, sweet. Palms a gyve. Shackles, chains. His fingers lift from your neck, trailing down the slope of your throat until he reaches the golden loop of your collar's hook. His gaze glides, magmatic, down to where your leash dangles between your heaving breasts.

It's almost tender when he grabs it into his fist. When he pulls, pulls—

Your back arching. His fingers slipping deeper inside your cunt. Obedient little doll.

When he lifts his eyes, the look you find is hot enough to char bone. You taste blood in the back of your throat—

Into the seam of your mouth, he purrs, “good girl.”

—and you swallow it down with a moan. 

(after all, you know better than to run from starving dogs—)

#when your kidnapper is mean and rude as hell but you've been dtf since day one: the manifesto #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #i forget where i put peoples hands sometimes and then have to go back and remind myself where everyone's at lmao #hope you enjoyedddddddddddd #i'm gonna go pour myself a glass of bleach bye #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x you

[monstersflashlight]

It’s finally here, I know I’ve been teasing with this story for weeks but life has been hectic and I wanted to do some requests, but here it is, the forest entity story. Hope y’all enjoy it!

The tree-hole debacle

Forest entity x fem!human || very light dub-con, tentacles (more like vines), bondage, squirting

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no... You kept chanting in your brain. You were trying to reach the fucking shiny thing you saw in the tree's hole and you got stuck. In the middle of the forest. All your torso inside a tree-hole and your legs kicking the air. You couldn't get out. You were stuck. You felt like you were living your own bad porno. Fuck.

You always knew your eagerness to pick stuff in the woods would bring you problems, but you never thought it would be in the shape of a tree. A fucking tree. You were just walking around the forest trying to find some good pieces to build some more fairy jewelry, who knew you could get stuck in a tree. And now you didn’t know what to do, how to get out. A spark of anxiety was creeping up your back. What if you died there? What if they found you dead in a tree-hole? They would think you are a weirdo. Well, in that they wouldn’t be wrong, but that would be so embarrassing. News would say something along the lines of “young girl found in a tree”, and that would be awful in so many levels. God damn it.

You tried crying for help, but you knew there wasn’t anyone coming, you never followed the path, confident you’d find your way back. And you always did, you have some kind of sixth sense about these woods, they called to you. And well, now you called whoever was listening to get you out of that damn tree-hole.

When you felt something creeping behind you, you started kicking your legs, trying to scare whatever animal was close. You didn’t want to be attacked by a random wolf or something. You didn’t even know what kind of animals could roam the forest, you were so careless in the way you explored the woods without thinking about it. You felt like a dummy now, a completely dumb woman who was now stuck in a fucking tree.

Something behind you let out a growl, you started to panic, moving your legs faster, making sounds to scare it away. A light caress to the back of your leg made you twitch, your whole body reacting with full on panic. But before you could scream, you were hanging out upside down, roots embracing your body. You were suspended in the middle of the woods, a weird creature made of leaves and some kind of mud in front of you. He slowly shook your body up and down, making you bounce in an uncomfortable way.

Your confusion, added to being upside down, made your head feel all kinds of dizzy. The roots around you seemed to come from everywhere, like he could control all the things around you. What was he? He answered you without having to verbalize your question: “I’m the spirit of these woods, and you, human, were asking for help. I came.” His voice sounded deep, like if he was talking from inside a cave, an echo of a real voice. Your body shivered.

“I- You- What?” Your confusion at everything happening was making your head spin. He turned you around, hanging you in an upright position this time, your feet still far away from the ground.

“You were screaming, the little creatures came to find me. And here I am,” he explained. His matter of fact statement made you think he was crazy. Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you did die inside that damn tree-hole and all of this was just an hallucination.

“Thanks?” You didn’t know if that was the correct answer, the vines and roots around your body wouldn’t stop twitching, touching, careful not to touch any of your most vulnerable parts. But hey were exploring everything else, caressing your hair, your cheeks, your legs… “Can you put me down?” You asked.

“No.” That instant denial should have scared you, but weirdly enough, you didn’t feel fear or panic anymore. Your body was calm, your mind completely quiet and relaxed. What kind of weird mojo was he doing to you? “You asked for the help of a forest spirit, you need to repay your debt now.” You looked at him expectantly, trying to convey you needed more explanation. He didn’t say anything.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You finally asked, a spark of anger rising inside your chest.

He nodded as if your question was answered like that and said: “I will take you now.” The vines around you started to pull at your clothes. You struggled against the hold, but they were so strong and tight that you could barely move some millimeters.

You struggled harder, screaming at him: “What? No!” You looked at him with all the fire inside of you. If looks could kill, he’d be killed right there, right now. But it wasn’t the case. He just looked amused at your struggles. But he stopped the vines from moving, some of them hovering over your tits and mouth, so close you could smell the petrichor smell they emanated. It was intoxicating.

“You have to pay, human. The balance must be restored.” That made no sense to you, he talked about restoring balance as if you had a debt with the forest or something. What?

“But I didn’t ask for your help.” He looked back at you skeptical, his dark eyes so expressive even though he didn’t have eyelids or brows. His face was so weird, but enthralling at the same time. “Okay, I did need help, but I don’t- I don’t want to have sex with you,” you lied through your teeth.

The truth was that you were aroused, the vines around your body were making you all kinds of horny. You always dreamed of being tied down, of being at the mercy of your partner as they took their fill off you. And without knowing it, he was restraining you, making all your fantasies come to the surface and making your pussy tingle. But you weren’t going to say that to him.

“What is sex, human?” The question caught you off guard, how could he not know what sex was?

“You… You said you’d take me.”

He was looking at you intently, like the answer to your unasked question was obvious and you were just dumb. Maybe you were. “I’ll give you pleasure so your juices can fertilize my forest,” he explained. You could what?

“You what? Fertilize? What?” And then it clicked. “You want to make me cum?” It seemed so random you couldn’t fully process what that meant.

“I believe that’s how humans call it, yes.”

You argued with the angel in your head, but the demon rapidly won the argument and before you could process it fully you were saying: “I- I- Okay.” Your voice was barely a whisper but he nodded and the vines around you closed more firmly against your body, making you shiver. It was weirdly comforting to be held so tightly.

You clothes were pushed away, thrown carelessly to the ground and you found yourself wrapped in vines and roots, suspended in the air. He opened your legs fully, exposing your holes to his eyes. He approached you then, his weird face close to your pussy, but not touching. The leaves around his head tickled the inside of your legs as he inspected you, his breath cold against your heated skin. You whimpered, being exposed to him so openly was embarrassing beyond belief, but the juices dripping off your cunt were even worse.

He reached around him and took some kind of leave, different to the ones covering his head. He squeezed it until a clear substance formed. He coated one of the vines with, the vine shifted into a wider form, cupping your whole pussy, coating it with the substance. At first, you felt nothing, but suddenly scolding heat ran through your body and you came. Just like that. You came faster than ever, he didn’t do anything, he didn’t touch your clit, your entrance… He just put some magical liquid over your cunt and made you cum. What the fuck?

You didn’t get to catch your breath before another vine was proving your entrance, making you moan loudly as it pushed inside. Two more vines appeared, framing your boobs and squeezing, some leaves playing with your nipples at the same time. The pleasure was maddening. The combined sensation of the vine entering you and the leaves was so overwhelming that you came again. This time your scream was cut short when another vine pushed against your asshole. Surprise and arousal made you arch your back, which was fruitless, the restrains on your body so tight you couldn’t move at all.

He was still close, observing the vines playing with your body, controlling everything but not touching you. You felt dehumanized, you were just a means to an end for him. And that made you hot. You could be anybody, everybody. He didn’t care. He just wanted your juices… And he was milking every drop off you.

The vine on your pussy pressed against your G-spot, the sensation too rough and raw. Some more juices gushed around it as you came again. He hit and probed and pushed and made your mind go blank as he transformed your body into a pleasure machine. You came, and came, and came. You were sure there was a river down your legs at that point. You were crying, tears running down your face as he assaulted all your sensitive areas at once. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.

When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pushed a new vine in your already overflowing pussy. You saw stars as the vines inside of you intertwined. You were so full, so sensitive, you couldn’t stop crying in pleasure, your voice long gone.

And then something inside of you broke completely and you were peeing. Peeing? No, squirting. He made you squirt. Your juices flowed over him, showering his leaves like summer rain. You ascended to another plane, the pleasure beyond human realm, the orgasm so good your brain broke a bit.

He stopped abruptly, his leaves shiny and his face contorted in some sort of a grin. “That would be all, human. You paid the debt to the forest.” You blushed deeply as he lowered your naked body to the ground, a bed of moss forming under you. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered as he disappeared before your eyes. The earth literally swallowed him.

#forest entity #forest spirit #forest entity x human #forest entity x reader #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fanfic

[misserabella]

ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

#abby x reader smut #abby smut #abby fanfiction #abby x you #abby anderson x fem! reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson fic #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou2 #tlou x reader

[lynnielovestlou]

ellie fucking you in the middle of the night <3

cw: smut , nsfw , men dni , strap usage , reader sits on ellie's face , dom! ellie , sub! reader , kinda vanilla , reader and ellie's relationship is a secret , y/n used (im sorry) , sitting on ellie's face

masterlist

daily click

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

the problem is, you dont want to keep things casual. you said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your best friend. now, you're lying in bed wearing ellie's shirt, wishing shed sneak down the stairs and crawl in with you.

you try to talk yourself out of it so many times. you'd already almost got caught once. but your body doesn't care and neither does your heart. you want her hands in your hair, her warm skin against your own.

which is why you creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake up joel. one peek into his room at the top of the stairs and you see him sprawled like a starfish. your lips curve up at the sight and then you very, very gently shut his bedroom door before padding down to the secondary bedroom as the opposite end of the hallway.

the door is closed and no light shines from beneath. you twist the handle and walk right in. her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. the door clicks shut behind you and you walk across to the king-sized bed. much like joel, she is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

unlike joel, you don't turn away.

you press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. ellie's breaths are deep, and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. you think you'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

instead, you kneel at her side. soaking her in, so relaxed. she looks younger—more carefree—like this.

with one hand, you trail the tip of your fingers over her lips—just like you did every time joel had his back on the two of you. a simple gesture, just to remind her you were there, even if it was for a moment.

ellie's big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around your wrist, "y/n."

it's not a question. she knows it's you.

"hi."

"what are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"touching you."

her lips curve up into a sinful smile, "i thought you wanted to keep things casual in front of joel."

"right." you whisper, "it's just that i thought about it and decided being casual is overrated. i want you to touch me too."

a raspy chuckle spills from her as her green eyes open and dive into your own. chills erupt from the back of your neck, racing down your spine and over your arms.

"so, what now?" she asks beneath a quirked brow.

"i don't know." you suddenly feel nervous. you snuck up there with no plan, only knowing you wanted to be close to her, "do you want me to leave?"

she stares at you extra hard now. it's borderline unnerving. the weight of her stare. the way your stomach flip-flops under her attention. you've never felt this way before.

"no, y/n. i want you up here." her voice is soft and deep as she reaches for you. broad hands circle your waist and you squeal as she hauls you on to her, so you're straddling her torso.

"gonna need you to be quiet, baby." she murmurs as her palms slide up over your quads, tips of her fingers dipping inside your underwear at your hips.

all you can do is nod, lick your lips, and watch how good her hands look roaming over your body.

"n-now what?" you practically stutter.

"now you're going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while i make you come."

before you can respond, she's moved you up, yanked the gusset of you panties to the side, and has her tongue in your pussy.

you gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like she instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because you're good at following directions.

your head falls back when her teeth graze you clit. she palms your ass and holds you close, like she's eating her favorite fruit. her eagerness does nothing but drive you even more wild.

"hmmm," you hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of your tongue. your thighs shake with the strain of holding yourself over her and fingers dig in hard.

ellie pulls away, only to grumble at you in that deep tone. "baby, i said be quiet. and stop being polite. i told you to sit on my face." the hand gripping your underwear yanks you down hard so that you're fully seated.

she sucks your clit and your body bows into him. her hand slides up from your ass, over your hip, stomach, and up to your breast, where she gently caresses you. she holds you. touches you.

she gives your nipple a good, firm twist that has you gasping and grinding against her mouth. all the response you get is a satisfied growl against your core as she continues to lick, and suck, and tease.

you ride her shamelessly. she told you to stop being polite, and so you do. you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of her skin on yours. the smell of her wrapped around you.

there's something empowering in asking for what you want. to be touched when you want. and you're drunk on that—drunk on her—when everything inside you clenches. when that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, you can't hold back... you shatter.

you feel like you blew apart into a million little pieces. your skin is hot, your eyelids feel heavy. and as much as you try to stay quiet, you can't.

her hand shoots up over your mouth and you slump into it, using her arm to prop yourself up while you cling to the headboard.

"ellie," you whisper as she moves you down. her limbs are moving and there's fabric rustling around you, but you're too incoherent to keep up, "ellie."

"y/n, baby. i told you to stay quiet."

your brain is too addled to care. "more." you fold yourself over her, dropping your head into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. your teeth graze over the lobe of her ear, and you realize she's removed her boxers while you blacked out. and, she had put on her strap that she conveniently kept in her nightstand.

"more?"

you nod, feeling her throat move against your forehead as he swallows. "more."

her hands move firmly, all business, as she removes your underwear. then she sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking you with her.

you can feel her hard length propped against your ass as she positions the two of you.

her eyes stay on your face as she reaches down to grip the hem of her shirt. the one she gave you to sleep in when she walked you to the guest room door and told you it might help you miss her less. right before she smirked that annoying, i'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk of hers.

she wasn't, though. which is why you're here.

your body coils with anticipation again as ellie's gaze rakes over your bare skin.

her hands roam slowly yet purposefully. over your arms, your collarbones. reading you like braille. you think she's always been able to, and you just didn't know it.

"i'm not sure you can handle more, baby." she kisses your chest as your hands move in tandem, feeling her in a way you didn't get to earlier. "you're not very good at keeping quiet."

"i'll be good," you murmur, grinding your pussy back on her and feeling her steely silicon dick twitch against your ass.

suddenly her lips are on your nipples and your hands are raking through her hair. she reaches between the two of you, urging you up onto your knees, you move obediently, and in return, you're rewarded by the sensation of her faux cock sliding against your pussy.

back and forth. back and forth. your eyes flutter shuts she tortures you. one hand grips your shoulder while the other is fisted around her length. you swivel your hips, feeling her crown notch inside you.

"goddamn, honey. you're even better than i fucking dreamed," she mutters roughly. then she shoves herself in, and you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

your eyes snap open as your body adjusts. the light sight of her taking you so roughly has the blood thrumming through your veins at a rapid pace. your heart pounding even harder than before.

you stare at each other. her cock is buried deep inside you his.

"move, y/n. show me how bad you want it."

your pelvis undulates because you do want it. you lift and you drop back down, feeling every thick inch of her as you do. reveling in the way her eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

what starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. hands that were searching are now gripping.

breathing that was even is now choppy. everything is hot and damp as you writhe together in silence.

you don't need words. they wouldn't do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

"you're gonna come on my cock now, aren't you, baby?" she growls roughly, breathlessly, against your ear. your body shudders in response. "i can tell. your eyes give it away, even in the dark. then every muscle on you goes all tight. you ride me so damn hard. so eager. so warm. so fucking tight."

you're so full of her. her words. her body. it's too much, and right when youre about to go barreling over that edge again, she kisses you soundly, swallowing the sound of you screaming her name as you come.

with a fist full of your hair, she pumps into you hard.

spilling herself, filling you up thoroughly right as your orgasm rocks you. flays you. leaves you slumped in her arms, desperately trying to catch your breath.

you don't know how long the two of you stay like that. you straddling her lap, her cock snugly inside you, clinging to each other and kissing. slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make your throat ache with their tenderness. eventually they slow and ellie tolls you off her carefully.

always carefully. even when she's rough with you, shes so damn intentional. you feel nothing short of pampered with her. and when she gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

"what are you doing?" you breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as she comes to kneel between your splayed legs.

"taking care of you."

the warm cloth swipes over your swollen core and you let out a soft moan. "you don't need to do that."

she continues wiping you gently. "but i want to."

you're struck silent by such a simple sentence.

you lie in ellie's bed, letting her take care of you. and when she's finished, she lifts the covers, crawls in behind you, and holds your body against hers all night long.

#lynnielovestlou #lesbian #the last of us #queer #fanfiction #fanfic #ellie williams #lesbian smut #ellie williams smut #tlou #ellie tlou2 #tlou x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #smut #the last of us x you #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #sapphic fanfic #sapphic #wlw #men dni #free palestine

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: you and idia prepare for a fun day at the beach!

COMMENTS: this is my entry for my own event, sweet shroud summer 2024!! be sure to check it out here!! (shameless self promotion)

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT I READ THROUGH THIS ONCE AND I DONT FEEL LIKE DOING IT AGAIN

If you asked Idia, today would have been a perfect day to stay inside. The air was warm, the sun was out, and there wasn���t a cloud in the sky. That was the perfect weather to sit in with the air conditioning and a tub of ice cream, munching on some instant ramen noodles and binge watching one of his favorite anime or absolutely wiping the floor with some idiots in his new favorite game.

If you asked Idia’s partner of two years now, they would disagree.

They came knocking on his door late in the morning, calling his name through the door. Idia, still in his pajamas, scrambles to put a hoodie over his head to at least look somewhat presentable. He briefly checks his appearance in his computer monitor, and once deciding that you’ve definitely seen him looking worse, he cracks open the door.

He knows why he’s been so self conscious around you lately, the "summer body" season in full swing. He doesn’t like thinking about it. Regardless of his appearance though, you beam as if seeing him is the best thing that could have happened to you today.

“Hi.” you breathe, pupils blown as you take him in.

Idia scratches his arm awkwardly, shuffling his feet from behind the door.

“Um, yeah. Hi.”

You giggle, placing a hand on the door.

“May I come in?”

He lets you in, hurrying to clean up extra wrappers and misplaced mangas as you step into his room, eyes following his every move. He’s so cute when he gets nervous around you, shoving things into the various corners of his room to make it look cleaner even though you know his room has always been messy. He’s still in his pajama shorts and his fiery hair is even more untamed than usual.

It makes your heart flutter.

There’s a sweet sense of domesticity that bubbles up in your heart as you take in a sight nobody else has ever seen, the bare skin of his legs and the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie as he throws what looks like five instant ramen cups into a trash can by his desk.

His face is bright pink, and so are the tips of his beautiful beautiful hair.

You part your lips as he turns towards you, bashful and unsure, ducking his head before his hair. You giggle again and his heart picks up in his chest, sharp teeth gnawing at his lower lips. They’re chapped because he has yet to moisturize, and his heart jolts for an entirely different reason when he realizes you might be looking.

Why is he such a mess!?

“Idia, stop getting in your head, okay? Here.” you  dig through your unusually large bag and pull out some chapstick.

Idia flushes pink as you cup your hand in front of him. He places his chin in your palm obediently, and averts his eyes as you apply chapstick to his lips. He rubs them together when you pull away and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Cmere.” you gesture him forward, closer to you again, and Idia feels himself get even warmer.

You lean in and give him a quick peck, murmuring “sharing is caring” against his lips. He snorts at the cheesiness and you can tell his nose is crinkling in half fake half very real disgust. It’s okay—he can take the cringeworthy couple things if it's with you.

“So...um, what do you want to do today?” Idia asks, eyeing the giant bag you have slung over your shoulder. He knows you have a plan, but he doesn’t know if he’d call it a good one.

Yet.

“I’m so glad you asked!” you beam, setting your bag on the ground and rummaging through it, “I was thinking we could take a trip to the beach! When we were watching that anime last night, you said you wanted to try out some of the things they were doing and I knew I had to take you!”

Idia freezes, the scratching of his arm ramping up in intensity as you riffle through the bag. He hadn’t been expecting you to be paying attention to anything he said during that marathon, much less plan anything like this for today. 

“So I got us matching swimsuits, plus swim socks so we don’t poke our feet on anything.” you look up from your bag at him, smiling so brightly, “I wouldn’t want my baby getting hurt.”

Idia flushes even brighter at the pet name and you laugh, handing him a pair of swim shorts and a shirt. He silently thanks you for the cover up, and you two turn away from each other to change into your swim suits. He knows you won’t look at him when he’s changing but he can’t deny the anxiety that comes with being in the same room as you while he’s vulnerable, and so he changes as fast as he possibly can and tells you he’s done.

You take a little bit longer to change, but it isn’t long before you tell him he can turn around too.

He turns, and sure enough, you’re matching. He thinks you look so nice in that shade of blue, and little does he know you think very much the same.

“Can I help apply your sunscreen?” you ask, dangling a neon yellow bottle between your thumb and index finger.

“Are...are you sure?” he winces, “You don’t have to touch me.”

“Idia...I want to if you’ll let me. I don’t want you to burn.” you say softly, eyebrows furrowed.

It's like talking about himself like that hurts you.

“If...you wouldn’t mind...I’d like that.” he slumps down to the floor and tucks his head in between his knees, the tips of his hair turning bright pink again.

“Okay. Can you relax for me?” you ask gently, kneeling by his side.

He takes a few breaths before sitting up, turning to look at you. You beam as his eyes lock onto yours, and you pop the cap open. He holds out his hand to get his legs, and you squirt some into your palm to do his arms.

His arm hair is soft under your fingers as you rub the sunscreen in, making sure to hit every spot that the sun could possibly touch. You can feel his skin warming under your palms, and it makes a soft smile bloom across your face. You run your thumb over the inside of his wrist, and the pad of your finger catches on the tough tissues of his tendons. His fingers twitch at the contact, and you briefly find yourself fascinated by just how boney his wrists are. You sigh softly, your breath hitting his skin. He shudders, and you giggle.

“You know Idia...” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You’re very soft. And warm.”

He huffs in annoyance, but the sound is empty of animosity. His red face tells you everything.

When it’s time to move to his other arm, you scoot over to Idia’s other side and press a kiss to the top of his head as you pass. It flusters him to no end, but it's so important to you that he knows how much you love him. That you don’t think he’s filthy and full of sin, for one reason or another.

“Are you done with your legs?” you ask, rubbing the last bit of the cream into his upper arm.

He nods in affirmation, wrinkling his nose.

“I don’t like the way it feels on my skin at all.” he groans, rubbing his fingers together and wincing, “Especially my hands. Gross.”

“Then let’s get your hands washed, honey.” you set the sunscreen on the ground before getting up, offering him a hand when you’re steady on your feet.

He tries not to think about the pet name as he stumbles after you, letting you lead him down the hallway and into Ignihyde’s bathroom. There's another student in there washing their hands, and they gawk when they lay eyes on their Housewarden in a bathing suit.

“Hey there!” you greet cheerfully, dragging Idia past him, “Don’t mind us!”

Apparently seeing Idia like that and with another person was shocking enough that he just listened. Stumbling out of the bathroom like he’d seen a ghost, the door swinging shut behind him.

Silence. Then, you chuckle.

“Wow Idia, your dorm members do not grasp the concept of subtly at all.” you joke, bumping hips with him, “Now come on, let’s get the gross sunscreen feeling off our hands!”

You two wash your hands in silence, only broken by the occasional humming from you or him.

“Is that any better?” you ask once you two are done, and Idia nods slowly.

You take his hands again and lead him out of the bathroom, picking up the pace to make sure you make it to his room before he runs into anybody else. That one encounter was probably more enough for Idia today, especially when you’d insisted the two of you wear matching bathing suits.

“You look cute in it, by the way.” you mention, turning to look over at him, “I don’t think I said it before, but you look cute.”

He squeaks and hides behind his free hand, muttering the fastest “thankyou” you have ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Once you’re both settled back in his room, you sit with your legs criss crossed on his floor, and Idia sits beside you. Your knees are touching as you take out your phone, calling your transportation so you can Idia can arrive at the beach safely. He busies himself with picking up the sunscreen bottle from the floor and folding your clothes, placing them on his bed. The sheets are wrinkled and he tries to smooth them out, cheeks pink as he sets your clothes down next to his. You confirm the ride and put your phone away, standing up and catching his attention.

“While we’re waiting for the ride I figured we could go on a snack run. Would you mind going with me?” you ask, eyes searching his for any apprehension.

“Um...there’s going to be people there, right?” he murmurs, grasping at a chunk of his hair and running his fingers through the strands nervously, “I, um...I don’t want to go, if that’s okay.”

“Honey, of course it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” you reach out and take his hand, planting a kiss in the middle of his sweaty palm before pulling away.

“Ack—! Um, why did you do that? My hands are really sweaty and—”

“And I love you, that's why. Sweaty hands and all.” you interrupt, reaching for his other hand and peppering kisses all over it, “I’ll see you later, love.”

You smile and wave as you leave, shutting the door securely behind you. Idia stands awkwardly in the center of his room for a short while, unsure of what to do with himself now that you’re gone. He finds himself lowering himself to the floor once again, next to your bag. The top is open and next to the sunscreen he threw in there earlier is the scrunchie you always put in his hair. Next to that is a small journal, the blank cover giving it an air of mystery.

He shouldn’t look why would he look he should leave it alone—

He grabs the notebook and cracks open the first page.

The words date plan are scribbled out in your all too familiar handwriting at the top of a lined page. You used your favorite colors of ink, doodling hearts in the margins and using little blue flames as your bullet points.

Invite Idia to the beach to get him outside for once! Pamper him so he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable.

He expressed a lot of discomfort with unfamiliar sensations. Offer to apply sunscreen for him so he doesn’t have to get any of his hands. (Note: he does not like his legs being touched. If he holds out his hand to get his legs just give him some.)

Make sure to give him plenty of kisses and buy him ice cream. They have a limited edition Premo ice cream stand set up by the beach today.

His eyes fly over the page, heart fluttering in his chest. It’s so silly but it’s so you, putting so much effort into a guy like him. The absolute bottom of the barrel.

It’s like his favorite character’s SSR card just came home.

It’s like his favorite anime just got a beach episode.

It’s like you’re everything he’ll ever look forward to, all at once.

If Idia gets burned, make sure you take care of him later.

If Idia wants you to stay over afterwards, stay over with him and do whatever he wants for the night.

If Idia says ANYTHING bad about himself, make sure he knows that it's not true at all!

His face must be bright red right now, the tips of his hair hot pink. You have such a visible effect on him, no matter what you were doing but especially when you were praising him so sweetly. Making up cute dating plans like he's seen in anime, Giving him his own beach episode experience. Taking note of that new Premo ice cream that he knew was only at a few select beaches, and you picked a beach that had one just for him.

And Idia, if you find this and end up reading it, whether I showed it to you or you just got curious, I hope this shows how much I love you. I want you to know that no matter what, I’m always going to be in your corner, even if you shove me out I’ll come back, because I know you want me there. Maybe not forever, maybe not always, but so long as you let me come back to you and chip away at your walls, I’ll be there.

I love how pretty your hair is. It moves so gracefully, like an actual fire. I love how warm you are, and I love how careful your hands are. I love how small your wrists are and the curve of your elbows, I love your teeth and your lips and your eyes, I love how you shine when you talk about the things you love and I love how you look in black. I love how your face twists up when you’re annoyed and I love how you look when you get your favorite character in a gacha. I love how you’re always so dedicated to improving yourself and your craft, I love how sweet you are to me even though you think you’re being slick. I love how smug you get when you win and I love how you lean over and teach me how to play video games when I’m confused. I love how you let me learn on my own but still give me guidance when we have game nights. I love how you let me drag you places sometimes, I hope you know I’m so so thankful you let me. It will forever be special to me that you trust me to take you to my favorite places, and I hope soon we can go to a Premo concert together one of these days

 I’m sure I’ll love the way you swing your glow stick around, I’m sure I’ll love the way you’ll pass out on your bed after everything is over, I’m sure I’ll love the way you hold me as you sleep.

And if you let me,  I’ll love the way wrinkles form in your features, I’ll love your stretch marks, I’ll love the way your joints creak, I’ll love the way your hair turns gray. I’ll love the way you grow older and wiser but the way you’ll still be the same Idia.

If you let me, I’ll make silly little date plans every single outing we have. I’ll tell your mother all about them years from now and we’ll laugh, and I’ll debrief her on my next one. I’ll get your favorite colored pens and use them until I’m sure they’re dead, I’ll decorate my heart and my life with you because I don’t want anybody else.

If you let me, I’ll love you forever. My sweet boyfriend. You’re the smartest, most talented, kindest soul I have ever met. I want to treasure you for as long as I live, if you let me.

A gargled squeak escapes his lips as he sinks even deeper into the floor, falling over in the fetal position. His eyes are full of tears and his bottom lip is wobbling—argh, he has such an ugly crying face—and he knows he looks like a mess but after everything he just read his heart and mind are full of love, love, love.

You see a future with him. You actually do. You seriously, seriously do. Even after everything that happened at STYX. Even after everything he’s told you about himself and his family.

You’re just so impossible. How is he supposed to deal with so much affection at once!?

A knock on the door and a soft announcement of your presence is the only warning he gets before you enter his room, turning to shut the door behind you.

“So you’ll never guess what happened, Sam had a sale on ramune soda so I picked up a few—!” you finally turn around, freezing when you see your boyfriend on the ground, curled up around a familiar notebook.

“Um...I love you.” he chokes out, so quiet you barely hear it.

He turns over completely, eyes puffy and red and watery, and mouths it again, like no noise could come out of his throat even if he wanted it to.

Your eyes go wide at his quiet, tearful declaration. He must be overwhelmed.

You set down all the snacks before you take him into your arms, rubbing his back as he clings to you. It’s rare to see him like this, all vulnerable, but your expression goes soft when you think about that note you wrote for him.

You were vulnerable, and it hit him right in the heart.

He trusts you so much.

“I love you too. I love you so much.” you whisper against his forehead, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin you can find. His hair tickles your cheeks, brushing against your skin like individual caresses, like each and every part of his body loves and adores you.

Like every atom of him yearns for you.

“Let’s go get some Premo ice cream.” he sniffles, leaning into your touch as you wipe away his tears.

“Alright.” you smile affectionately, pulling the two of you up from your crumpled positions on the floor, “Our ride is probably going to arrive soon anyways.”

Idia helps you pack all of the snacks into your bag, but not before giving the journal one last hug when your back is turned.

He’s so lucky. It’s not just that letter that shows it either, he thinks. It’s the shiny ramune bottles and his favorite chips, it’s the candy you picked up and the fruit salad full of sweet, bright colored fruits. It’s the way you kissed his sweaty palms and applied sunscreen to his arms, it's the way you respected that he didn’t want his legs being touched, it’s the way you wrote down all of the things he knows you would have done anyway because you’re you and you’re wonderful.

He zips up the bag for you and slings it over his shoulder, shielding it with his body when you try to grab it. You roll your eyes playfully, getting the message. You go to open his bedroom door and Idia is right behind you, stomach twisting in anticipation. There’s a fair share of nerves, sure, but you’re right in front of him, shielding him like you always have, and when the hallway comes into view he lets you grab his hand and pull him outside.

The pair of you walk down the hallway and outside the building together, hand in hand. You only run into a few students, all of which are too occupied with their own things to gawk at Idia. It makes him feel less nervous and makes you feel better for him.

Sure enough, your ride arrives a little while after you reach the meetup spot, and before he knows it, he’s off on a beach episode adventure with you.

He hopes you won’t change your mind, and that it won’t be the last one you have.

But when he looks over at you and sees you already looking at him with a look that screams love, love, love, he knows for sure there will be more days like this one in his future.

#sweet shroud summer 2024 #auburn's fics <3 #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud fluff #gn reader

[weneeya]

Can I request Sakusa or Atsumu accidentally revealing they have an s/o during an interview or something.

Like they’ve been in a relationship for quite a while, but both of them want to keep things private. But during an interview the question leads to a slip-up where they reveal they have an s/o. And they feel really bad for that, but in the end their s/o isn’t really mad about it

secret revealed w/ atsumu, sakusa, hinata, bokuto m.list | rules

note. omg thank you for your request i love the idea so much!! as i really wanted to do both sakusa and atsumu, i decided to do it with the msby quatuor, hope you don't mind <3 please don't hesitate to request!

Miya Atsumu

If it would have been him alone, Atsumu would never have you hidden from the cameras. Not that he wanted you to be known by everyone especially ; but he was a proud man and he wanted to show you off to the world. You were amazing and he loved absolutely everything about you. But you wanted to keep it low, so he respected this. Doing anything that would make you uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted ever. 

It was a simple interview, nothing different from the usual. He was used to their questions, especially those about his private life. Atsmu was good at lying so acting like you didn’t exist was not something so difficult for him ; even if he hated it. He was sitting next to one of his teammates, when he glanced at the backstages, thinking about his answer. 

And what he saw ruined every plan he had in mind. He saw you there, waiting for him like you did it from time to time. But what was weird was that you were generally waiting outside to avoid the questions. Except that today, you were inside, and this guy from the sound was clearly hitting on you. Atsumu trusted you, obviously, but it still made him react almost right now. 

He turned his head to look at the journalist, and a bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I have a girlfriend, yeah. She’s right here yer know, waiting for me.” He said before glancing back at you, waving at little. It caught you off guard, and you looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes. The poor guy who was trying something previously felt terribly stupid, and he quickly moved away from you, understanding the message. 

After the interview, you were walking outside, arms crossed and not answering the poor Atsumu who was almost begging you to look at him. “I’m sorry, please!” He was almost falling on your back, trying to force you to acknowledge his presence. You glanced at him and he had this adorable pout over his lips. You rolled your eyes, before a sigh left your lips. 

“You’re an idiot,” you started, and a smirk appeared on his face at the sound of your voice. “Yer idiot.” He left a kiss on your cheek and you couldn’t restrain the smile that got on the corner of your lips. Surely he was your idiot, yes.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a discrete man, especially when it came to his private life. He didn’t like to talk about himself in general, but when it came to you, the one he loved, it was even worse. He knew how people could be when they were a fan of someone, and seeing you hurt because of this was the last thing he wanted. So after talking about it together, you decided to not announce anything officially and to be careful. 

He was supposed to spend today with you but there was a sudden change of schedule and he had to go to an interview. Not only was he annoyed because he hated interviews, but even more because he had to cancel his peaceful day with you. He sat there, and everyone could understand that Sakusa was in a bad mood. 

The interview got on, and the questions about his private life quickly arrived. Soon or later, the journalist was asking him about his lovelife more particularly. Even if Sakusa was usually so cautious about it, today was different because he couldn’t see you as much as he wanted, so the words slipped out of his mouth. “Yes, I have someone in my life. And if it wasn’t for this, I would have been with her right now.” 

His tone was harsh and cold, and it quickly ended all the discussions about his private life. When he left the building, he simply got back to your place in no time. A long sigh left his lips when he finally got rid of his shoes, joining the kitchen where he saw the light. You turned around to look at him, and the smile he saw on your lips eased his heart so easily. 

“I may have made a mistake,” he started, and it made your eyebrows rise slowly. He explained to you, and your only reaction was to chuckle gently. It caught him off guard, because he didn’t expect such a reaction. Weren’t you angry that he revealed your secret? You looked back at his eyes, smiling once again. “People needed to know one day, so it’s fine.” 

Sakusa nodded slowly, leaving a soft kiss against your temple. You were right, you couldn’t keep it to yourself forever. He would have wanted to show you to the world differently, because you deserved better, but at least he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Hinata Shouyou

You didn’t really care about being known as Hinata’s girlfriend, but the boy was less enthusiastic than you. Knowing that he met you during his time in Brazil, and knowing how his country was, he was just scared that people would say anything bad about you. Even if he was a real sunshine, he would never accept any bad remarks towards the person he loved the most in his entire life. This is why both of you decided to keep your relationship private. 

But Hinata Shouyou was not really good at hiding things, especially not when you were making him so happy. It wasn’t his own interview ; actually it was Kageyama who was getting interviewed after their match against Hinata’s team. He was answering some questions with his usual awkwardness when a voice came from behind. It was Hinata yelling at him. 

“Hey, Kageyama! Look, she’s here!” Hinata pointed at you before waving with a huge smile, and Kageyama simply offered you a little wave. Obviously, the interviewer asked about who you were, and Tobio was as much of an idiot as Hinata, so he simply told the truth. “It’s his girlfriend,” he said, and Hinata quickly arrived behind him, giggling like it was nothing. “Isn’t she pretty?” 

You saw the camera turning in your direction, and you quickly ran away from it. You didn’t care, but you wanted to respect your boyfriend’s choice. Except that you wouldn’t run too far, Hinata grabbing you during your escape to hold you tight. This is how the whole volleyball world knew about Ninja Shouyou’s girlfriend. 

“I thought you didn’t want people to know,” you said to him while you were walking to your apartment. He giggled like only he could do it, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “I don’t care, I’ll protect you from anything.” He looked back at you with his adorable smile, and you swore you heard your heart stopping in your chest. It wasn’t even surprising anymore with Hinata.

Bokuto Koutarou

He wasn’t the type to be careful about a lot of things, except for people he loved the most. And you were probably the person he cared the most about in his whole life. You were able to keep up with his mood swings without being annoyed or anything, and he simply loved you so much. So he wanted to keep you all for himself, and as you weren’t a fan of celebrity, both of you came to the arrangement that you should keep your relationship private. 

It wasn’t a problem, and it didn’t become one until this interview. It was at the end of a match they just won, and Bokuto was over excited by the victory. He was smiling like crazy, running everywhere ; it was almost too difficult to keep him in place for the interview. So when the question about someone sharing his life arrived, he didn’t think twice. 

“I have my beautiful girlfriend waiting for me! She’s the best!” He almost yelled in the microphone, leaving everyone in shock, especially you behind your screen at home. His teammates had to calm him down before he let out too much about you, knowing well that it was supposed to be a secret. And after the interview, they had to remind Bokuto what he said. 

When he entered your apartment, he was completely down. The victory was nothing next to the idea of him disappointing you like this. He slowly walked to the couch, sitting next to you, his head almost immediately falling on your lap. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have.” 

Your fingers slowly moved to his hair, trying to ease his heart a little. How could you blame him? You knew how he was, so you were expecting this to happen one day. You smiled softly, leaving a kiss against his cheek. “It’s okay Kou, it’s fine. I’m good,” you told him, and he quickly sat back. He looked at you, eyes wide and bright. 

“Really? You’re not mad?” You chuckled slightly, before slowly shaking your head from left to right. “Of course not.” You reassure him, and in a second, Bokuto’s excitement came back like before. You would never get mad at him, and especially not for him loving you so much.

thank you!!

#atsumu miya #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #msby sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa headcanons #hinata shouyou #haikyuu hinata #hq hinata #msby hinata #hinata x reader #hinata headcanons #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #msby bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu msby #msby black jackal #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq

[noveauskull]

How Male WUWA Character's React When They Smell Another Man's Perfume/Cologne On You! (NSFW)

‼️‼️MDNI‼️‼️

-----

characters: scar, jiyan, mortefi, calcharo, aalto, yuanwu, geshu lin

warnings: 18+, smut, fem x male, prank, clit play, overstimulation, ideas of cheating, penetration (piv), tied up, mating press, punishment, passing out, hurting their feelings, dick riding, oral (m! receiving), spanking, wall fucking, use of toys, anal, biting, hickeys, throat fucking, clips on nipples and clit, apologies from the men

-----

SCAR:

You'd regret playing a prank on him immediately. Scar has a very sharp nose so when you come back home smelling like another man he doesn't say anything for a bit, he just stares at you waiting for an explanation.

Though the explanation had to wait until it was midnight and you were on your bed, wrists tied with a belt on the headboard and a vibrator pressed onto your clit, no foreplay whatsoever as he sits in front of you, fingers holding the vibrator with his legs crossed and another hand holding his head up, his eyes burning into yours. He hasn't smiled once ever since you came back.

When he finally asks you about the smell, you said that you had no idea what he was talking about, which made him more pissed, so he made you cum on the vibrator 4 to 6 times until your juices were dripping all over his fingers and palm.

You could tell despite being overstimulated it wasn't over, cause then he started pulling his pants down, not off, but down enough to reveal his hard cock, he cusses at how he still gets hard to you even though you're a potential cheater.

He'd have his cock punching into your cervix with every thrust, and he has a lot of stamina. At one point you can see the last shred of sanity in his eyes blink away as he pushes your knees onto your shoulders and hovers above you, putting you in a matting press when he keeps fucking you raw.

You'd finally surrender and give up when you started to notice you were gonna pass out real soon, the sun was starting to come up too, so you muster up the last bit of energy you had to tell him without babbling that it was a prank before completely shutting down.

The last thing you'd see is Scar's angry face turning to a shocked face before you passed out.

When you wake up in the afternoon, your wrists were no longer tied, the between of your legs are clean with none of yours or his juices left, you had a white oversized shirt on, and you can smell something delicious outside.

Scar would have came in a few minutes later with a big sheepish smile, wearing an apron and holding a plate of food for lunch as he apologizes to you.

"Damn. Sorry babe, I didn't know you had it in you to make a prank this good. I'll make it up to you, 'kay?"

-----

JIYAN:

He'd be incredibly disappointed that he doesn't smell your usual scent immediately, so he asks you why did you come home smelling like a another man. He would try to be very understanding with you but his patience is replaced with hurt when you tell him that you don't smell anything different about yourself.

He would come to the conclusion that you were cheating on him. You'd keep pretending like you had no idea what he was so silent about. When you initiated you two have sex like always he would comply, but compared to his usual sweet and gentle behavior, its replaced with something more meaner.

First he would tell you he wanted you to suck his dick off. He wasn't asking you like how he usually would, he was ordering you to do it, and you knowing what you did, you listened to him and did it without any questions.

He'd say "this felt better before today" and fuck his cock into your throat to make you swallow every last bit of his cum, even though usually he would cum outside of your mouth unless you asked for it inside.

You would have to be on top of him and thrusting his dick inside you instead of him just straight up pounding you until you were satisfied like always, and when you finally came, he would force you to keep going, if you didn't, he'd smack your ass until your cheeks went red.

This would go on until your legs were shaking, his slaps were very powerful, so everytime you bounce on his cock you'd falter when your sensitive red cheeks touch his thighs and you'd accidentally have his cock piercing to your cervix.

When he sees your movements getting weak, he stares at you with hooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from the bed to carry you and press your back against the wall, then fucking you so hard and deep you couldn't even let out a noise.

Your eyes would be rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth would be hung open with no sign of shutting. Your body would be twitching uncontrollably from all the crazy thrusts Jiyan is forcing you to take.

When he made you cum 3 times on the wall before putting you back onto the bed and fucking you again in doggy style, you had to force yourself to confess that you were just pranking him, to which all his movements would stop and he'd pick you up to make you face his shocked face.

While your pussy was still twitching and gaping from the shape you had to take for the past 5 hours, Jiyan eventually apologizes as he caresses your back while your head is laying lifelessly on his shoulder.

"Of course this was a prank... I'm so stupid, would you forgive me for acting so harshly?"

-----

MORTEFI:

He'd ignore the smell at first. You'd know that he isn't the type to jump into conclusions so you had to tell him about your day, how happy you were to have made a new friend and how he was super nice to you, making sure you didn't leave out on how touchy that new friend of yours was.

The longer you kept going the more he counted on the times he'd have to make you cum in bed, to which, you seemed to have exceeded over 10 times now.

When it was time to sleep, he'd have you thinking that he wouldn't do anything to you, so you believed his little act and slept for the night, only to wake up in the middle of the night with your hands tied to your back, face smooshed against your pillow with your mouth covered with a cloth and a vibrating dildo deep into your pussy, including an anal plug inside you all at once.

He'd have you squirming as much as you can but eventually you'd stop squirming just to twitch and shake because you'd cum shortly after. When you're at your 5th orgasm that's when he removes the anal plug inside you to shove his cock in.

For the entire night he wouldn't let you make a single noise, constantly smacking your ass and using your hole for his own pleasure, when he finally felt like he was finished that's when he removes the cloth on your mouth to let you speak, and that's when you tell him that it was a prank.

He'd feel incredibly embarassed and sorry that he treated you so roughly, you better expect top tier treatment from him for the rest of the week, but don't forget, this all wouldn't have happened if you hadn't played that stupid prank on him.

"You drive me insane sometimes, you know that?"

-----

CALCHARO:

NEVER underestimate this man's nose, he could smell your scent from a mile away. So when he smells someone else coming inside his house he's very alarmed, even more alarmed when he finds out that it was you this whole time.

He wouldn't even say a simple hi or even ask what the smell was, he would just grab you without letting you settle down and throw you onto the bed. He never lets you take even a moment to say anything to him as he's ripping, and I mean literally, ripping your clothes off your body.

Calcharo would order you to not move an inch while you're naked on the bed, before he leans in to your neck and sniffs you again. The smell would still be there and that made him want to bite you, so that's what he does, he bites on you all over and leaves marks in every single part of your body.

He's very mad, but he has to confirm if that part of yours has been used yet or not. So he pulls down his pants and he jerks off at your naked body in front of him. If you confessed that you had cheated on him the very least he wanted to do was to make it known that you had always belonged to him before letting yourself get fucked by another man.

Once his cum was all over your face, he uses his hand to wipe some cum onto him and palm your pussy, he may be mad but he's not mean enough to penetrate you without prep. Once your pussy was pooling with your juices that's when he breaks into your hole with his cock, in one harsh movement too, at the same moment he put his cock in he's already thrusting gigantic movements into you.

He'd have you crying and screaming by how fast and powerful his thrusts were. His hands holding onto the back of your knees as he uses your hole like a toy, you felt both pain and pleasure all at once, and he's already made you cum more than 5 times, switching to your ass and mouth from time to time making it more than 5 times since he came. And all your holes were being violated.

Everything had to end when you started to feel lightheaded, even though you had begged him to stop just so you could breathe, he never did stop, and it was really hard for you to tell him that it was all a prank.

So what you did was grab him by the hair as roughly as you can and yank it to your face, choking out the words "It's a prank" before you pass out completely, when you finally woke up, you see Calcharo sitting next to you with his hands on his head, feeling sorry for using you like a doll.

"Don't ever do that again, I don't want to hurt you over something like this ever. Idiot."

-----

AALTO:

He looks at you and says "Nuh uh, we are not doing this" when he smells another man on you. To which you act oblivious and shrug at his questions, but he's clearly not taking your shit.

For a bit, he analyzes the way you moved around the house, especially when you were on your phone texting to god know's who while giggling, when you do that, that's what makes him lose his patience.

He doesn't even bother checking who you were texting and throws your phone across the room. When you yell at him for throwing away something so fragile he just grabs your wrist and twists it to your back, now your ass was right at where his crotch was and your arm was in an uncomfortable position.

Aalto doesn't plan on keeping you on that position forever, so he grabs both your arms behind your back and presses your back against his chest while holding you.

He'd tease you while asking you questions, his hand would slip inside your pants and play with your clit. He's trying his best to remain calm with you since he knows that if he lets his mind win he would leave you so broken with his cum oozing out of you, so he edges you. 10 minutes turning to 30, 30 minutes turning to an hour, and an hour turning to 2 hours, and he's still teasing your clit.

He doesn't even bother removing your pants or underwear for you, he is literally making you soak your underwear and pants like it's been at the washing machine, no matter how much you beg him for release he wont give it to you until you tell him what actually happened and if you really did cheated on him.

And ding! Aalto wins, you can't bear to not get your release, so you admit to him that you were just pranking him. He'll smile at you and give you a kiss on the forehead before pulling down your pants, revealing a pool of your juices. There was so much juices that you two could fuck hours and hours on end.

He rewards your honesty by shoving his cock inside you and fucking you until you got as many orgasms as you wanted while planting you kisses all over. Smiling at you as you get your 3rd orgasm from his cock.

"I knew you'd never cheat on me, this is why you should leave the pranks to me instead"

-----

YUANWU:

He doesn't jump into conclusions, instead, he lets you settle down and rest before he asks you if you were using another perfume, and when you say no, that's when he asks if you were out with someone. When your response is "Oh, how did you know?", he'd simply ask you who you had been out with, but you didn't want to answer him. Hearing you respond like that shifts something in him a bit.

Next thing you know he has you bend over his lap, ass sticking out on one side while your face stuffed on the bed in the other, he smacks his hand on your ass in one moment before he fingers your wet pussy until you feel like your close, only to stop again just to smack your ass.

He keeps doing this until he hears an answer from you, but you were quite stubborn, and that was fine. Yuanwu knows exactly how to deal with you, so he keeps going. Everytime you try to push your hips back into his fingers he just spanks your ass, leaving it red all over.

When you finally gave up on begging him to stop and told him that you were just pranking him, he immediately has you sit on his lap while he rubs your asscheeks in a way to comfort the stinging pain he created, head on yours as he smiles at you, it seemed he knew that it was a prank, he just didn't like that you withheld information from him.

Before he lets you go, he rewards you by letting you cum on his fingers while kissing him to muffle your cries, at the same time caressing your red ass cheeks leaving you feel incredibly spoiled. His actions making you never want to lie to him ever again.

He gives you one last tiny smack on your pussy as a little punishment for the silly prank you played on him with a smile.

"You're so cute when you try to act sly, princess. But I hope this makes you realize it will never work on me"

-----

GESHU LIN:

Disappointed, angry and betrayed. He is definitely not letting you go until you explain yourself. He'd have you kneeling while he makes you suck his cock, having a vibrator not inside your pussy, but in your ass. He makes you swallow his cum for around 3 times, making your stomach full and your throat throb when he finally frees his cock from you.

He'll ask you why you smelled like a man, but a little throat fucking and anal won't make you confess so easily, so he plays your game, and goes completely insane.

He's leaving marks all over your body while punching your cervix with his cock behind you, never giving you a single moment to breathe, your nipples were being pinched by the clips he used on you, the clips having chains that connect on your clit, sometimes he would tug it making you scream in pain before he hits your spot to replace your scream with a delicious moan.

When using the clips on your nipples felt a little boring to him, he would move to the clip that was on your clit and make the clip shake with every rhythm in his thrust, all while the vibrator was still in your ass, having so many sensations at once makes you drool as tears roll down your cheeks.

You'd hear him cuss at you and call you a slut, asking if the man you were with could fuck you the same way he does. That's when you remember why you were getting roughly fucked for, so you immediately confessed that you never met any man at all.

You'd think he would stop, but no, he keeps going until he was satisfied. He's happy that you confessed to never meeting any other man but him, but that doesn't mean he won't punish you for playing such a dirty prank on him.

He'd unclip the clip on your clit before using his wet fingers that he used on his mouth to force an orgasm out of you so that you would cum at the same time as him, and when you finally do, you'd fall onto the bed passed out, while Geshu Lin is panting and wiping the sweat off his chin.

"This will remind you to never play such games with me ever again"

-----

A/N: NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED FOR SMUT! SCAR AND GESHU LIN!! I was gonna add male rover but i ain't even gonna lie guys, im so tired I HAVENT EVEN LOGGED INTO WUWA TODAY IM CRYING

please enjoy this crumb i left for you all hungry beasts as i go farm convenes for Jiyan, HE HAS TO COME HOME!!!!!

#wuthering waves #wuthering waves smut #jiyan smut #scar smut #mortefi smut #calcharo smut #yuanwu smut #aalto smut #geshu lin smut #wuwa scar #wuwa yuanwu #wuwa jiyan #wuwa mortefi #wuwa geshu lin #wuwa aalto #wuwa calcharo #wuwa smut #wuwa x reader #wuwa #noveauskull #wuthering waves calcharo #wuthering waves jiyan #jiyan #calcharo #wuthering waves mortefi #mortefi #geshu lin #wuthering waves geshu lin #wuthering waves scar #wuthering waves yuanwu

[hwallazia]

GIVE IN TO ME – 최산

synopsis . in which san gives you some special princess treatment.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), fluff & comfort, established relationship, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

word count . 0,4k

DISCLAIMER! dom! san (even though in here he’s devoted to reader’s 🐱), sub! reader, fingering, praise, dirty talk, lots of touching and whimpering, cutie & lovely petnames lol (sweetheart, princess, doll, good girl), in conclusion; just san being a sweet gentleman w reader <3

NIC’S NOTES I KNOOOW i should be working on a ton of asks and i am !! it’s just that they’re not ready yet, still gotta reread and edit them :// buuut, i saw a couple of pics of san’s hands a few days ago and i just couldn’t help myself -.- ALSOO SAN IN WORK MV?? i felt things i wasn’t okay with ;o so expect a cowboy san drabble soon ~ ♡

imagine san, caressing your skin like the princess you are for him, his left hand holding your hip tightly while his right intensely pounds your entrance, soaked from so much foreplay. the atmosphere was perfect and the air smelled strongly of sex, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. your cries did nothing but incite him to continue teasing you, your thighs quivering in response.

“sannie p-please...” you stammered pathetically, not knowing what you were pleading for. all you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop, the feeling being too good to be true. your manicured pink nails traced cat-like scratches on the muscle of his strong arm.

“please what, sweetheart?” he giggled when you whimpered in response, dipping another finger inside your slick cunt. san’s hold on your hip tightened. “don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers are enough to turn you into a mess,” he babbled, lost in how your folds perfectly sucked his phalanges, already fantasizing about the feeling of his cock inside you. squelching noises emitted from the slickness of it echoed through the room.

“f-fuckk” you stuttered as your back arched into a perfect crescent moon, san sighing happily at the sight of it. god, he’s so in love with the expressions you do when he’s filling you up with pleasure. the way your eyes squeeze as a couple of tears try to escape out of them, and the way your mouth hangs open in response to the overwhelming satisfaction he provides you are details that he never misses in sessions like these.

“god, you’re so perfect. so perfect for me” he whispered under his breath in a heart-warming tone, his words causing you to clench around his fingers. of course, san didn’t let it go overlooked, his reaction being an egocentric smirk decorating his thin lips.

“come on, princess. cum on my fingers,” he uttered as he kissed your thighs, the rhythm of his fingers stimulating your entrance becoming faster. your mind wasn’t processing any coherent information, the only thing that went through it was san, his fingers, and how sexy he looked as he bit his bottom lip. “give in to me, doll.”

his fingers which had been ramming that sweet spot for five minutes now touched it once more. and that was the climactic moment, the moment you came undone under san’s touch. your mouth hung open as you moaned loudly repeating san’s name between them. his ear tingling at those sweet sounds.

“thaat’s it. good girl.” he praised, sliding his index and middle finger up and down your sensitive folds as he helped you to ride your high. his left hand stroking the outer side of your thighs.

“you good for another round, atta girl?”

| masterlist

#hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #choi san #choi san smut #san smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san drabble #choi san imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

[fortheb0ys]

Just thinking of cumming in Soap numerous times. You're tired, nearly falling asleep. He's crying his face a complete mess. Cum's leaking out of his ass and the base of your cock soaked it in.

You had already been tired from your schedule being taken up by training the rookies. Relaxing with your boyfriend and going to bed early was your plans for the evening but not Soap's.

No, his plans was to be fucked stupid for hours.

Now he's riding you as your eyes flutter, trying your damn hardest to stay awake. He's getting desperate, chasing a far high.

He wants another round. Getting tire was something Soap wasn't going to be for long time. He'd cum more times than you could count and with little down time he'd start right back up again which is an instance like right now.

Soap had just came for the fifth time and you three. You're extremely exhausted and Soap quite the opposite. He could go on for another two hours but you were ready to call it a night.

He bounces vigorously with a pout adorned on his face, frustrated at your lack of effort. His orgasm was so close. All he needed was your hands all over him. To bite, pinch, grope, anything. No, all he got was lazy squeezes on his waist. Your tired fingers weren't enough to bruise him.

Noticing Soap's disappointed attitude, you try to engage with his wants. You'd massage his sides, grip his waist to slam him down on your cock. Just to stop when you became tired once again.

You're both dirty, covered in cum and all you wanted to do was fall asleep with Soap in your arms.

"Come on, baby. Need ta cum again. Just this once, please." Soap would beg as tear pooled in his eyes.

You look at the pout on his face as tears stream down his cheek. A new found energy courses through you. With all the strength you can muster, you flip Soap onto his back and begin slamming into him.

"Johnny, one last time and you let me sleep. Deal?" You snarl, making it clear that it WAS going to be the last one.

Soap nodded, slightly scared how quickly you changed your demeanor. You pulled his knees back till they touch his shoulder. Soap face twists to discomfort than to pleasure as thrust into him without warning.

You were going at it hard and fast, wanting to quickly get things done. Even with the sudden burst of energy you weren't sure how long it would last.

Rythm was no where to be found as you continue to fuck hard into him. Words tumble out of Soap's mouth in incoherent babbles. His velvet walls constrict around you.

You hit deep inside him in this position. He can feel you rearranging his guts. He places his palm on his lower belly, the tip of your cock pushing against it with each thrust. The feeling sends him into the stars, his vision blurry.

With a final thrust, you both come undone.

He got what he wanted though now it feels all too much. His spend cock sits between his folded legs, pathetically weeping out the last few drops of cum.

Pulling out of his gaping hole, Soap whimpers at the lost. You turn to your side tired and finally able to sleep. Your eyes feel like lead and your cock aches.

"Ask again and I'm sending you downstairs with a dildo and I'm locking the door."

With that Soap finally stills for the next, eyes closing as he pulls you close.

This was sitting in my drafts idk if it's any good, I didn't proofread it🤷‍♂️

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #x male reader #call of duty mw2 x male reader #john soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x male reader #john soap mctavish x reader #x top male reader #sub character #sub male character

[willyoubemycherryy]

Awkard…maybe not? (C. Sturniolo x reader)

𝑶𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓➬ 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

“𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛! 𝐼𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒!”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒙, 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐��, 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄, 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ^^, 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅” 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅”, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒐 𝑫𝑶𝑵’𝑻 𝒇𝒖̈𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔, 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒐𝒚

.𖤐☆彡.°

This just might be the most mortifying thing to ever happen to you in the history of your life ever.

The boys hadn’t stopped by in a while (they had a habit of sporadically popping up) and it was just you so, you figured you’d have some alone time with your favorite pink bullet.

After showering and making sure everything was nice and clean, you went to your room and got started. The mood came easy as your hands caressed all over your body, teasing your wet nub with one hand and lubing your bullet vibe with the other then inserting it up your…

The light stretch combined with the vibrations made you sigh in pleasure as you teased yourself more intensely. You felt good and everything was going great until you came and tried to take out the toy that you realized you couldn’t.

You couldn’t reach it.

Freezing in panic, your breath hitches and you swear your gonna have a stroke. You try another position and try to reach it but you still can’t. You try not to cry but tears bead in your eyes as frustration bubbles inside you. It so wasn’t fair. All you wanted to do was enjoy yourself but nooo your ass just couldn’t live.

At this point, all the sheer fear and indignation rises up your throat and you let out a horror movie worthy wail, screaming like a possessed woman.

But since your luck had been so great, the flurry of knocks and rings at your door stop you in your tracks.

Not now.

You could not handle a triplet tornado right now.

The noise at your door doesn’t stop so you throw on some pajama pants and a loose shirt to go open the door and realize on the way there that the buzzing from your vibe is audible.

Kill you now, actually.

Huffing and tossing your hair a bit, you open the door and instead of three, there’s only one.

Chris’s smile drops as he notices your face.

“Hey? I wanted to come hang n see if you wanted to mini golf with us later..but if now’s a bad tim-“ he’s speaking gently but you cut him off with a groan. No mini golf hate. “Chris, you couldn’t have just called me?” You whine and Chris throws his hands up in surrender. “Woahh, i did. You didn’t pick up.”

Well damnit.

You both get quiet and that’s when he hears it. The faint buzzing makes him furrow his brows as he looks down at you.

“What is that?”

The embarrassment makes your heart rate skyrocket as you flush before yanking him inside by his hoodie. Dragging him up to your room, you slam him against the door. Slapping your hand over his mouth you swear him to secrecy because you’d be damned if anyone, including his brothers, ever found out about this and if someone ever did, you’d know exactly who told them and you swear to Chris that you would never speak to him again.

Nodding furiously against your hand, he takes out his phone and shows you him turning it off and that’s when you let him go.

“W-what the fuck? No, what’s wrong?? And what’s with the buz-“

“I got my vibrator stuck up my ass!”

You wish you took a picture of his face as he registered your words.

“I BEG YOUR MOST GLORIOUS PARDON?!”

•

•

•

After explaining to Chris how it got stuck, he sat on your bed arguing with you about what the next steps should be.

If you weren’t humiliated before, explaining your masturbation session gone south with one of the hottest guys on the planet would certainly do it.

“It’s MY ass! It can stay where it wants!”

“But that makes no sense! If you won’t go to the hospital, then let me help!”

Pause. The visual alone buries you and you snap completely.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! Where is your SHAME?! I’m not letting you look, let alone dig around in there!” Chris rolls his eyes before standing up to match you.

“It’s fine! Just bend over and pull your pants down! It can’t stay stuck up there!”

Fuck he has a point. Taking in a shaky breath, you look down. Tears pool in your eyes because it couldn’t stay in and you were fucking terrified.

There’s a loud sigh before you feel hands cupping your face as Chris makes you look at him. His eyes make your heart stop in a way that contradicts the “friends” part of your relationship but you ignore it.

“Look, it’s embarrassing and I get it but don’t worry about that. I just wanna help, m’not judging you. Okay, kid?” Flushing, he’s rarely ever this soothing, you nod. “Yeah, okay,” pausing, you ask, “w-what do I do? So you can…?” This time, there’s a faint blush on Chris’s cheeks as he clears his throat and moves so you can go lie down.

“Right, well…pants off, all fours, not facing me.”

Taking a deep breath you follow his instructions and Chris feels like the air just got punched out of his chest. The arousal from before is still wet on your pussy and fuck it looks so pretty. He’s praying to god he can keep it down because he really can see everything as he kneels on the carpeted floor behind you, checking in. “Alright, talk to me. S’it okay if I start now?” He’s talking lower but the feel of his breath on your skin makes you shiver, the exposure has your head spinning as you nod.

“Yeah, go ahead..but just..,”

“Hmm?“

“C-can you see? Like…everything?” You sound so cute all shy that Chris almost coos at you.

“Yeah mamas..I can see…but you’re perfectly fine.”

Letting out a breath, you nod and wait for him.

“Okay, I’m gonna start so try to relax..” Chris says, smoothing his hands up the sides of your thighs. His palms are warm and you sigh absentmindedly at the pleasant feeling. His fingers move up to your hole and the wetness makes him swear internally as he asks again, “okay?” You whisper back, “okay”, then he’s slowly sliding in, and you gasp. Tightening instinctively as you feel them wiggle around. Your blush is down to your back as you hear him swear.

“Jesus, fuck- kid”, taking in a deep breath with you but for a different reason entirely, your tight and slick but he tries to remind himself that this shouldn’t be sexy. You’re his friend who he’s definitely never been attracted to, that he’s helping.

“Ch-chris..? Do you f-feel it?” His fingers are longer than yours but they’re not that deep which your grateful for.

Luckily he does, pressing it down near your bellybutton so it doesn’t get lost again, sliding it out as it vibrates his fingers.

“Yeah, hold on-“ he cuts himself off as a moan bursts out of you. Looking down, you’re dripping wet and he’s so hard his dick hurts. You apologize profusely because this was already awkward but you couldn’t help it. Chris slowly gets it out as it falls into his palm. He turns off the pink offense as you turn to look at him.

He’s still on his knees but that’s the least of the concerns. His eyes are blown and the blue makes them even more intense, still, you awkwardly thank him.

Nodding with a half grin, he gets up and that’s when you notice he’s hard. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the outline through his sweats before Chris clears his throat, making your eyes snap up to meet his. Chris drops the toy in your hand, “There. I believe that’s yours, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick so be back”, you barely nod before he’s gone as you process what the fuck just happened while you clean up and get new shorts on and throw your stupid toy out the window.

Meanwhile Chris is in your bathroom trying to will away his erection and not think about you as he washes his hands but it doesn’t work and he can still smell the strawberry flavored lube so he dries his hands and goes back to your room.

You’re in different shorts looking just as embarrassed as before, as he comes to sit next to you.

“Chris I-“

“Don’t worry about it Buzz, I won’t tell.” You scoff at the nickname while he chuckles, you shake your head.

“I was gonna say your dick is still hard but live your best life or whatever.” His mouth drops in an offended gasp and he fires back.

“I just found out your bad ass is an anal freak! Obviously I’m hard!”

Your eyebrow jumps in shock as you stare in disbelief before nodding with a shrug.

“That’s fair…”

It’s quiet for a minute as you two try to ignore what friendly things you don’t want to do with each other but you cave. “Well, since you helped me out…can I return the favor?” Chris drops his head back with a groan because you can’t say shit like that as he looks at you uncertainly.

“Only if you want t-“ you cut him off eagerly.

“Oh I one hundred percent want to just, y’know, you scratch my back I scratch yours...“

Nodding with a smile, Chris hurries and pulls you into his lap, kissing you on the lips.

“Well the funny thing about my back is….”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

[monstersflashlight]

Hear me out: a monster takes over an abandoned pool and reader decides to "ghost hunt" but instead find the monster in the pool

I don’t confirm nor deny this was inspired by The shape of water’s monster.

The abandoned pool

Gn!Water-monster x fem!human || oral sex, heavy dub-con, kinda cnc

You were determined to prove there were no ghosts in that place. The multiple vloggers who toured the place kept saying it was haunted, but there wasn't anything there. Just a big building full of dark corners and a full pool. The pool was the weirdest part in your opinion. It should have evaporated a long time ago, but it was still there. A full dark pool at the end of a long corridor. It was so creepy, morbid curiosity called you to it.

Your steps sounded so loud against the empty corridors. You approached the pool and laughed when you heard some splashing, probably some rats. You turned on the camera and set it at the entrance of the room, clearly facing the pool. You wanted to record yourself exploring it, so nobody else would have to come to see for themselves. So you could probe everyone how wrong they were about the ghosts.

You should have known better.

You approached the pool and opened your mouth to talk to the camera, but your words were cut short by a screech. A palmed hand darted out of the water and pulled you in. You fell into the pool like a sack of potatoes, water rapidly surrounding you. You couldn’t breathe, you were panicking. There was some sort of creature swimming around you, creating a turmoil in the water that made impossible for you to see what it was. You tried to pull yourself up, get some air in your lungs.

But then the creature stopped, the water clearing. A figure stood before you, so weird and so confusing. His face was flat, no nose, no visible lips, just two big white eyes without pupils and a big mouth full of sharp teeth. You screamed, but you just got some bubbles out, the water swallowing your fear. Their palmed hands grabbed your body, his clammy bluish skin touching yours, groping you. His touch was exploring, but uninvited, your panic rose again, the lack of air burning your lungs. You kicked them and swam up.

You got yourself free and pushed your body out of the water, breathing air in rapid pants. But you didn't get your whole body out, they caught you at the edge of the pool. Half your body out, your legs still submerged. He pulled down your pants, exposing your ass and pussy to the cold air. They launched right in, a harsh tongue entering you as they made out with your pussy. You could feel his fangs close to your clit, their mouth so big it covered you completely. Their palmed hands grabbed your ass, parting your ass cheeks to get better access to your pussy.

A primal part of you awoke right there, the assault to your pussy so weird but so good that you started to grind back against them. You felt embarrassed, ashamed and afraid, but you couldn’t deny the wetness in your pussy. They were lapping at your juices like it was ambrosia. You wanted to feel bad, you wanted to hate it, but it felt so good. So fucking good.

You came against a water-monster's face, grinding against them like your life depended on it. Your whole face flushed with embarrassment for being so needy against them.

They growled and your body shivered, their hands parting your ass cheeks once again. When you felt something entering you from behind, you pushed back your ass to bury them deeper, like a monster’s slut. You fucked yourself back against the intrusion, as the monster grunted behind you with each thrust. You felt naughty, like you were doing something really bad, but it wasn’t enough to make you stop.

The appendage inside of you felt weird and ridged, but fantastic against your thigh walls. They were relentless and you were desperately trying to get there, to cum again. It was like the first orgasm didn’t scratch the itch, just burned you faster, higher. You felt like you were about to explode against him. His clammy skin made a filthy sound when it hit your ass, and you were digging it. You were digging everything that was happening. And when they grabbed one of your boobs over your wet shirt and pinched your nipple, you started convulsing around their shaft. You felt them growling behind you as something warm and slimy filled your pussy.

After that, they finally let you go, winking at you from the pool as you pushed yourself out and walked on unsteady legs to your things and ran out of there. When you got home you realized the camera recorded everything. You just got yourself a monster porn movie. Starring yourself.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #water monster #water monster x reader #water monster x human #fem reader #gn monster #request

[poppy-metal]

what if i said the words step dad patrick……….. fucking ur mum for a place to stay when he finds your cute little college ass and oh look! you’re into tennis! he can show you some stuff if you like, he used to play art donaldson and win………..

why would you say this to me. what have u done what have you wrought. wow this got away from me and i ended up giving us a whole backstory here my bad fr.

i imagine you're visiting home from college - a prestigious one - not excited, in the least. probably a horrible relationship with your mother, father nonexistent, out of the picture. probably got into tennis as just a hobby, but it turned into a way to channel all your anger and resentment built up towards your mother - how she never pays attention to you, how money and jewelry and the next man who'll blow smoke up her ass to leech off her, is more important to her than you are. every slam of your racket against the ball is you smashing a vase in your picture perfect mansion.

so, no, you're not happy to be coming back for the summer but all your friends are going back home and you dont want to be the one girl on campus who wont go back home - you dont want to be that girl. you're perfect over there, you're good. no one knows you hate your mother and mourn a father you dont even know the name of. no one knows you feel so alone it empties your chest out sometimes, leaves you with a pit that feels like its rotting you inside out. you're good at tennis, and you're cool and you're friendly and you have men falling all over you. they never fill that void, but its nice to feel desired. even if their age stifles you. irritates you. immaturity grinds your gears.

so, no, you're not eager to throw all that pretend and comfort away for the summer. lugging your suitcases up the pristine driveway with a scowl already in place. wondering if your mother will even notice you entering the door. probably not. probably she's already out, or making plans to be so.

anyway, you're miffed and moody and not at all prepared for when a man jogs up to you. you startle when a hand, a very tan hand connected to a strong arm - arm that has fine hair, and veins and muscles you can see - intercepts you to take the handle of your suitcase. you look up.

you look up to see the hottest man you've ever seen in your life grinning down at you. dark curls damp with sweat, heat kissed skin, freckles and seagreen eyes. tall and broad, and soaked in sweat. his tank top is practically see through, you can see through. right to his equally strong chest, which is hairy and tan looking - two twin nipples peaking, red and flushed. you throat feels dry. "uh."

"fuck, hey." he lets go of your suitcase to shake your hand. you limply let him. hes smiling at you in a practiced sort of way, almost like hes nervous. odd since hes clearly older than you. but hes trespassing, so maybe thats why. "i wanted to get cleaned up before i met you, but you're early, huh. i was just on the court - here let me."

he takes the handle of your luggage again. he seems to know you already and you squint. a familiar feeling of irritation filling you. hes not so different looking from all the help your mother has hired over the years, pool boys and yardworkers and the like. young men she could ogle. although this man does seem older - he's definitely ogle worthy. more than.

your mouth twists in a sneer. you haven't even gotten into your house and you're already dealing with your mothers shit. you can't be fucked.

"rule number one," you snap, curt, jerking your luggage back from his grip. you try to stand tall, but he still easily towers above you. no matter. you're still above him in station. "dont fucking touch my stuff."

you flick your hair behind your shoulder as you make to walk by him. you hear his sharp inhale of suprise. curious since you're definitely sure your mother has degraded him in many ways by now. he should be used to be talked down to. maybe its his first day.

he comes up in front of you again, walking backwards as you walk forwards, with a kind of ease that irritates you. he holds his hands up, placating, still smirking, which irritates you even more - "got it. got. you know she warned me about you - didn't think you'd try to bite my fucking head off so soon, though."

something in your gut sours. not new, then. your mother has spoken to.... the help, about you? this makes you uncomfortable. prickly and hot like you just found out someone had been talking shit about you behind your back. your hackles rise.

you stop in your tracks. glare at him.

"my mother spoke to you about me?"

his eyebrows - he has annoyingly smooth eyebrows, annoyingly long lashes too - lift, as if to say, 'fucking duh.' he makes a so and so motion with his hand, you glimpse a ring on one of his fingers. "here and there."

your grip around the handle of your suitcase burns its so tight. you think you could melt it with your anger if you concentrated long enough.

"and? what did the bitch say?"

a shocked laugh leaves his lips at your curse. your eyes narrow because you dont find it funny and because the longer you are around him the more you notice about him and the more attractive he noticeably is becomes apparent to you. when he lifts a hand to run it through his hair, the muscles in his arm bunch and flex under his skin - which is still very much gleaming with sweat.

"man, its fucking bad with you. the mommy issues -" he has this little smirk, one that lifts one side of his mouth more than the other. "- she said you were a fucking brat, that i shouldn't bother with trying to make a good first impression. i can kinda see why now."

yeah, you really dont appreciate his attitude. hes hot and all, but he's spoken way out of turn and you're done entertaining it. you want to go inside and flop onto your bed and scream.

you take a step forward and poke him in the chest with a manicured nail - he looks down at it, like, oh hey - sharply. "just because you have a pretty face and a big dick my moms probably sucked more than once, doesn't mean you're fuck all to me. you're still just the help. you can remember that when you're cleaning up my shit." you take your hand away, trying and failing not to smile like a bitch when his lips part in shock at your words, knocking his - fucking broad - shoulder with yours as you walk past him. you pause at the steps to turn just a little. he's looking at you with this unreadable expression, but if you'd have to guess you'd say it closely resembles amusement. "and I'd like a smoothie. have it brought up to me ASAP or I'll make your life here hell, got it?"

you raise an eyebrow.

his mouth finally snaps shut. you hate that he still looks amused. his lips just barely quirking. he works his jaw like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, biting his bottom lip instead as he looks up at you with those green eyes.

"got it."

-

its sometime later when you wake up. head a fucking rats nest. you've just managed to drag yourself out of bed and to the chair in your vanity, working a pink brush through what you can of your locks when your door flings open.

you dont even look up from the mirror. only one person wouldn't respect the privacy of a closed door and what it means.

"hello, mother." you say cooly, not taking your eyes from the mirror. you try to smooth the brush through your end strands first, coaxing your hair into submission. she's probably here to rub something in your face under the guise of saying hello. a new car she'd bought, a new boyfriend she has, a new vacation home she rented in malibu, ect.

her perfume fills your nostrils with its potent stench as she sashays into the room - your room - and perches her ass on your vanity, rudely jostling several trinkets there. your eye twitches. you brush some more of your hair.

"hello, my darling girl."

her voice is faux sweet. the pet name makes you want to flinch, recoil from its fake meaningfulness from her cold lips. they dont mean anything coming from her. you're not her darling anything. she'd treat a purse more fondly than you. yet, she calls you these sweet things sometimes. you think because it amuses her to play the part of a doting mother. she did always love acting.

you dont say anything more. work the brush. easy and slow wins the race. you remember when you used to be so frustrated with your hair you'd yank the brush through it in a rush, until your scalp bled from the stinging yanks. you'd lose clumps. an act of self harm, your therapist had told you. anxiety of not being perfect. you'd forgotten to put hair serum in your hair to make it easier to deal with before you'd fallen asleep. you shouldn't forget such things. your meeting with that man had rattled you.

"i have some wonderful news."

your mother drums her fingers on your dresser. you imagine her fingers as a witches, long and spindly. no amount of cream and lotion could hide her aging. that made your lips quirk.

"oh? what is it?"

"I've met someone."

not new. you barely restrain the urge to roll your eyes. brush some more hair. you've worked mid way to the top now. almost to the roots.

"have you." you couldn't sound more bored if you tried. really, you couldn't.

"i have." she lets out a swoony breath - "oh, hes wonderful, darling. he's different from the others. treats me like a woman ought to be treated - not that i expect you to know - and its going so well."

you've heard it all before.

"why, he's asked me to marry him!"

you hairbrush stills. you look at your mother for the first time. shes beaming. you feel sick all at once when you look down to her hand - see the ring she's flashing at you, gaudy and dramatic.

"i bought it for myself, of course. he's not the richest man - but he's wonderful! I'd like you to meet him - "

your memory flits back to hours ago, when the man you'd assumed was the help had lifted his arm, hand sifting through his hair and you'd caught a flash of something around his finger - silver in constant with his tan skin - a ring.

your lips part at the same time your brush snags on its first tangle, and footrests, heavy, thumping, a mans, approach your room. your mothers puttering is like static to you now, your eyes flitting from her to the door - and there he is. filling your doorframe. leaning against it with a kind of confidence like he belongs there. like the house is his.

"- eet patrick zweig." your mothers voice comes back to you. you imagine her mouth splitting open from how wide shes smiling - teeth flashing at you like a horse. "my husband. your new stepdad!"

she leans back against him and he wraps and arm around her easily. drops a kiss to her stiff hair, but he doesn't take his eyes off you when he does. everything about him is screaming cat that got the cream. his eyes are twinkling. his cheeks dimpling with a barely hidden grin.

"and." your mother claps. so fucking full of energy, the old bat. "he plays tennis!!! isn't that the most beautiful thing - he used to play with that - oh whats his name, honey -"

"art donaldson." patricks voice is thick and smooth. easy like syrup. he's still looking at you. pinning you with his gaze like you're one of those taxidermied bugs with its wings splayed open on display. "yeah, we used to play together. beat him a couple times."

"him, yes! oh, i told him all about your crush. dont flush, sweetheart, you had his posters in your room! and i thought- wouldn't it just be so fun if patrick and you trained together during the summer! oh, i know I've just been a mess over the years." she puts a hand to her heart - where it would be if she had one, that is - "bringing men in and out of our home. i can only imagine how lost you've felt without a proper male figure in your life. well, no more."

she pats patricks chest. hes opted out of a tank top for a soft cotton top. it hugs his frame too well.

"patrick here is all the father figure you'll need. thing's are really going to change around here, button. we'll be a family."

"a family." you echo, hollow.

"of course." patrick nods. he wants to grin so fucking had you can tell. "oh - and here you go - " he hands you a smoothie he'd been holding, you take it numbly. humiliation burns through you at the memory of how you'd talked to him before. when you'd assumed he was the help. "- that smoothie you wanted."

you stare at him. not sure what to make of any of this. your pride is shot to shit, you're embarrassed, you're angry, you're you're you're -

"and dont worry, babe." he jostles your mother under his arm. he's still. looking at you. you can see what the emotion was now - from before - worse than amusement. fucking glee. he's eating this shit up. "we'll get along just fine. won't we?"

no. no you absolutely fucking wont.

but saying that wont get you anywhere. not just yet. you set your smoothie down and try to smile. it feels wooden. this feels like a chess game suddenly, and hes knocked down one of your knights. and you have to try not to fucking scramble as you jump to defend your queen.

"sure." great move. real intimidating. that'll show him.

"yeah." he smiles at you - kisses the side of your moms head. "why don't you get dinner started, hm?"

you try not to gape as your mother preens and flushes like a housewife. your mother cooking. in the kitchen? preforming labor? doing tasks? willingly? you watch her flit out the room in a daze, wondering if fairies are real and one of them has bodysnatched your mother.

its just patrick and you now. the air in the room thickens with that fact, and you swallow. you've never felt this out of place. never felt so blindsided. not in awhile. you'd made sure of that. taken deliberate steps to adorn armor to prevent yourself from feeling this way. from feeling small. from feeling like the barely adult that you are, freshly nineteen and still so fucking confused and raw and scrambled about everything in your life. not at all like the 30 something in front of you who is a fucking man. a full adult. a full frontal lober. who's been through shit, you can tell, by the callouses on his palms, the hair on his body, his stubble, and the enormity of him in your space. in your little girl room that's still all pink ribbons and plushies on your bed and fairy lights strewn everywhere. he feels like the big bad wolf leering down at your straw fucking house, seconds away from blowing that shit to the ground.

you say nothing.

he crosses his arms and takes his time looking at you. you feel every touch of his eyes on your body, suddenly aware of how little you're wearing. just a sheer nightgown. you feel your nipples pebbling under the fabric that's definitely fucking see through and swallow.

"so."

he lets that hang in the air.

and what can you fucking say? you haven't had the time to recalibrate. you hairs still a mess.

"so.... what?"

you want to stand up - make the playing feild more even except thats a fucking joke because hes taller than you regardless. you feel pinned to the spot anyway, your muscles locked in place in your little chair. like you haven't been given permission to move. its the oddest feeling.

"she's right you know." he tells you, and he eases off the door frame, comes closer so you have to crane your neck up to look up at him. you feel demeaned. and yet, you dont look away. "things are different around here - they have been for awhile now."

you find some semblance of your fucking fire. try to hold your little straw house together. glare up at him.

"you can swing your dick around all you want and make my mom cook and clean for you but you're not the boss of me. you're not my dad."

he just looks at you. folds his lips together. his tongue peeks out to run against the front row of his teeth, wolfish.

the lean in is so jarring you nearly fall out of your chair. you do let out a squeak, jolting as your space is invaded suddenly by him, his arms braced on either side of you, one gripping the neck of your chair. his breath smells like spearmint and the chain around his neck swings back and forth as he gets in your face.

he straightens back up. casually like he didn't just rock your whole world off its fucking axis.

"you think I haven't dealt with you before? i fucking was you - spoiled little rich kid with mommy issues and no fucking daddy. s'that why you think you can stick your fucking nose up at me? dont try to play the game with the man who wrote the fucking rulebook. your display back there at being a big girl was cute, I'll give you that, but it ends there. this is my fucking house now. my fucking rules. and as long as you want to park your polished little ass here in your princess castle you'll listen to me." he does grin then, "I'm your daddy now."

"we cool?"

what can you do?

"we're cool."

he just blew your fucking straw house down.

#ask #frens <3 #and. the match begins #WHATS READERS NEXT MOVE I WONDER I WONDER #patrick zweig x reader #no smut bc i ended up getting lost in the sauce w backstory and lore and tension #challengers x reader #challengers #patrick zweig

[hitomisuzuya]

I know you haven't been feeling well for a while and it's worrying (not in a bothering way so dw, keep us updating and don't hesitate to vent about it <3 ) so please take care of yourself, have self care days when you only do things you like and eat your comfort meals. Stay hydrated and I hope you have wonderful days/noons/nights

Is it okay if I ask for a Scara x reader fic where reader teased him a lot the previous night by edging him, taunting him etc so now he's planing to get revenge on her by overstimulating her-

You can write it in any way you want and use any kinks you'd like, I don't mind as long as it's this context and you enjoy writing it <3

So yeah you can ignore this if you'd like I won't mind at all

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Sex toys. Daddy kink. Bondage. Degradation. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial.

Omg thank you so much for your sweet words. They are so sweet. I'll try and take care of myself 🥺❤️ I wish the same things for you.

Scaramouche couldn't keep the shit eating smirk off of his face, his cock straining and hard as he watched you fall apart. You'd been so cruel to him last night (in his incredibly humble opinion), laying with your head in his lap, and looking up at him with the sweetest, most worshipping expression. While you proceeded to edge him.

Your fingers stroking and gliding on his cock, massaging and rubbing your thumb over the head. Your teasing pace never flattered, alternating between stroking and jacking him off, sometimes taking the head into your to suck on. Moans had spilled out of him, his legs shaking as he rutted into your hand and mouth.

But you never let him get anything past the tip inside your mouth, giggling when he threw his head back, swallowing soft whimpers behind curses as his cock pulsed. You'd playfully batted his hand away when he tried to push your mouth down onto his cock. "Aww, what's wrong, Scara? You can't handle stimulation? You can dish it out, but you sure can't take it," You taunted.

It was infuriating how he seemed to get harder from your taunt. And to top it all off, you didn't let him cum.

For that, you were going to be put in your place.

"Now look you," Scaramouche taunted, wagging the vibrating wand turned on the lowest setting on your clit. His teasing pace was almost maddening, the subtle vibrations slowly stimulating your swollen clit. You whined, straining at the ribbons tying your wrists together and to the headboard of his bed as you grinded against the wand. "The shoe is the on the other foot, slut. It looks like you are the one who can't take it now," The desperation welling in your eyes as you squirmed, rubbing your pussy needily on the toy was so satisfying to him.

"Please, turn up the setting," You whimpered, your walls starting to clench sensitive around nothing, "I'll be a good girl, I promise," You pleaded, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands.

Your pleading sounded way too sweet for him not to give you want you wanted. A loud moan tore from your throat as he turned the setting up. Pleasure jolted through your body, happy to grind more firmly on the toy.

Don't think Scaramouche was giving you what you wanted because he felt merciful. Oh no. He watched for the signs that you were going to cum, your moans rising higher in pitch with every grind on the wand as you chased your high now that vibrations were more consistent on your clit.

He'd been building up oh so carefully for this exact moment. "You want to cum for Daddy, don't you?" He purred condescendingly, reaching down to palm his cock as he wanted you writhe.

"Mhm," You moaned, your hips bucking into the toy, "I really, really want to for you, Daddy," Your release was right there, finally. You knew all it would take was few more grinds.

Scaramouche mocked your moans, leaning down to put his over next to your ear. "Is that so?" Your eyes, which has rolled closed as he wagged the wand faster on your clit, snapped open when you heard his tone. "Well that's too bad."

He immediately shut the wand off, and took it off your clit. Your cry of aroused despair, trying to grind against nothing nearly made him cum. He licked the shell of your ear, sending shivers up your spine. "Let that serve as a reminder of your place," His words made your clit throb harder.

Moving down your body, Scaramouche circled the tip of his tongue around your sensitive nipple. He was mimicking his pace of the wand with his tongue, swirling and teasing the tip around it until it hardened.

Tied up you were helpless and his mercy. His mouth agonizingly worked over your nipple, groaning into your breast as he scooped your nipple into his mouth to suck on. You moved your chest up into his mouth, bliss making you melt as he skillfully built your orgasm up again little by little.

Scaramouche chuckled darkly as you tried to close your legs, needily squeezing and rubbing your thighs together for friction on now neglected clit. Reaching down, he batted your legs apart, giving your clit a light smack that made you see stars.

You cried out, your walls clutching around nothing. He pressed his thumb in circles on your clit. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. He had to hold back a laugh hearing you babble out pathetic thank yous to him for suddenly being merciful as you grinded against his thumb.

You let down your defenses now thinking he was finally going to let you cum. How wrong you were.

You whined as Scaramouche took his thumb off your clit, replacing it with the wand turned up another setting. That made your body twitch more, the sudden stronger stimulation sending you reeling, only making your orgasm curl tighter. The closer you got, the more the arousing pain of overstimulation was setting in.

"Please, can I cum now, Daddy?" The question spilled shamelessly from your mouth. Your climax was closing in so fast that you didn't know if you could control it. It was agonizing when he ignored you, completely absorbed in playing with you.

He teased his fingers at the entrance of your drooling hole, only pumping them inside. Your mind nearly shattered when he denied you again. "W-Why?!" You stumbled over your words, tears welling in your eyes.

"Relax, whore," He cooed, his hand groping around for a vibrator while he drank in the sight of your puffy, messy, and overstimulated pussy. "There are so many more ways I can deny you," He turned the vibrator on the lowest setting, slowly inserting it inside of you, suddenly turning the setting up when it was half way inside of you. "We are going to be here awhile. Think about this next time you try and deny me, understood?"

Scaramouche knew you would tell him when you were about to cum like the good girl are for him. He would relentlessly feed off of that loyalty to him. He left the vibrator inside of you and moved up to your head. "Suck my cock properly while you learn this lesson," He growled, pointing to his mouth before pushing his cock against your lips.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

[ervotica]

milf!reader fucking coach!patrick because she wants her son to get accepted into his tennis program and they’re old friend who used to fuck in college but she despises him but she’ll do anything for her son👀

warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), cum eating, a smidge of foot stuff if you squint, hate sex, exes (ish) to lovers (ish)

a/n; your honor i need him actually

imagining him wolf-whistling at you when you seek him out on the courts, racket strapped over your shoulder, hand limply holding a basket of tennis balls as you watch him practice his serving, trying and failing not to ogle his entire body through his clothes.

a sweat soaked tank top, slick and transparent. the smell of musk and man and tennis. thick corded thighs dusted with dark hair as he moves fluidly, as though the racket is an extension of himself. a thick bulge in his shorts that, no matter how much you hate him, you want to have your mouth on.

he’s all fire and passion and heat, and you know from experience that trait rings true in all areas of his life.

“so, you’re a milf now,” he drawls, beckoning you closer with a tip of his chin. your mouth is dry, chest so hollow it feels like you’re about to crumble from the inside out.

you roll your eyes, hoping to look more confident than you feel, taking place on the other side of the net.

“and you’re still a prick. your point?”

“why are you here?” he presses, tossing the ball up and catching it with a skilled ease that has your stomach flipping.

“how do i guarantee my son a place in your tennis program?” the words feel heavy on your tongue, struggling not to curl your lips into a sneer at the sight of his smug expression.

“you think i’m a prick but you want me to teach your son?”

“i think you’re a prick but i know you’re good at tennis. and you’re a good teacher. and i want him to be good.” his brow quirks. at least you’re honest.

he discards the tennis ball behind him and crosses the distance between you, long legs coming up to step over the net.

“i can think of a few things.”

that’s how you find yourself at his place, legs slung over his shoulders. it’s wet and dirty, each rock of his hips squelching as he feeds you his cock into your needy cunt inch by inch.

“yeah, know this pussy missed me, baby,” he rasps, pinching at your twitching clit. his throat works around a thick swallow, lips parted in a groan when you clench your cunt round him, shifting your hips upward to allow him to sink further into the wet clutch of you.

“stop talking to my pussy, you freak,” you hiss, quickly silenced as he flattens his thumb over your swollen bud, rolling it in tight circles until you’re creaming round him, wailing with the sheer force of your orgasm

he lifts your ankle, turning his flushed face to mouth at the smooth skin there, huffing hot air against the sole of your foot that has you squirming.

there are some perks to fucking patrick zweig.

he knows every inch of your body, knows what makes you tick and which buttons to press to keep you babbling nonsensical filth beneath him. knows your pussy, knows how to fuck you until you cry.

you’re clinging to his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you dig your knuckles further into that skin, because you know him just as well. know that this gets him going, keeps him rutting into you with that fervour that - despite yourself, despite hating him - you’ve missed so desperately.

because despite hating patrick zweig, no one fucks you like he does.

when he cums it’s in excess, spurt after spurt of it until you’re plugged full and it’s flooding you, dripping out of your spasming hole and gathering over your furled asshole. he gathers some of it with two fingers, feeds it into your eager mouth.

“i’m sure we can work something out about those tennis lessons, sweets.” and he grins, all teeth. the look should have you balking, send you running, but you find yourself drawn to it, clinging to the familiarity of him.

you’re caught in his honey trap once again, and he has no plans of letting you get away this time.

because you both know, no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’s the best sex you’ve ever had.

and he’s sure he can make you love him. just with a little time.

#patrick x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig fanfiction #patrick zweig drabble #patrick x fem!reader #love letters #ily #challengers smut #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers film #writer #writing #writers on tumblr #writing for fun #challengers patrick #patrick challengers #patrick zweig challengers #fanfic #fanfiction #smut writing #fanfic writer #my writing! #pat 🎾