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cantstoptheimagines · 1 year

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Curador (Muerte | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Muerte aches at the sight of you whenever he comes home.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Soulmate AU; helping a lover with their injuries (includes mentions of blood); established relationship; takes place directly after the movie; writers’ law states that every time an animated wolf comes into existence, I must write a fic; in my opinion, we should be calling him ‘Muerte’, so that’s what I’m going with; a huge thank you to my dear friend, Yoshino, for helping me with the Spanish translations.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 639. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ You will receive the same injuries as your soulmate (unless deadly). ➳ Since Muerte is Death (straight up), why not make Life? I envision the Reader in this to be a spotted deer, who will be referred to as ‘Vida’. And who knows? I might turn this into a one-shot series if people enjoy it enough. Let me know what you think!

The slamming of a door made your ears twitch. You paused, eyes narrowing as you listened to the creaking floors within your home. A damp cloth was pressed against the corner of your lip, dotted with small specks of blood.

Footsteps slowly grew closer to your room. A quiet sigh escaped your lips when you realized who they belonged to. Having a lover with nearly silent movements did nothing but cause you panic sometimes.

You returned your attention to the small mirror in your grasp. A shadow moved about the room and a cloak was tossed next to you on the bed. Looking up at the towering figure in front of you, your gaze found red eyes staring back at you. More specifically, staring at the cloth against your lip.

“El gato lives,” he muttered, his deep voice sending shivers along your spine. “I have given him another opportunity to prove himself.”

A small smile made itself known, “Is that why your attitude seems so foul?”

He hummed quietly, ignoring your teasing remark about the infamous Puss in Boots, whom he had been chasing for some time now. His startling eyes were still zeroed in on the cloth.

“You really need to stop playing with your food, Muerte.”

His eyes snapped to yours. They narrowed into slits, shining with irritation. He snapped his jaws to the side, huffing loudly as he looked away from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly.

His claws wrapped around the hilt of one of his sickles. The mirror was quickly tugged away from you and tossed onto the bed. Your head was forced to tilt backwards as the sickle’s sharp blade was placed beneath your chin.

Anyone else may have had fear coursing through their veins. You, however, weren’t worried at all.

Muerte stepped closer until his paw could replace the blade. The sickle was quickly returned to its sheath while he looked down at you with a blank expression. You allowed him to tilt your head back even further as he took up the space between your thighs.

“Cállate, Vida,” he ordered.

His claws wrapped around the cloth, finally removing it from your lip. It, much like his cloak and your mirror, quickly disappeared from sight. Your injury reflected his own, signaling to the world that the two of you were a perfect pair.

“It hurt when you got it,” you said. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

His expression softened. You leaned into his touch as one of his claws caressed your cheek.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he muttered.

You gave him a small smile, along with a shrug of the shoulders, in an attempt to make him feel better, “It’s okay. No harm truly done.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to take his paw into your grasp and hold it in your lap instead. He lowered himself to his knees. Due to his tall stature, kneeling allowed his gaze to become even with your own as you sat on the bed.

“Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso,” he continued. “Por tu bien.”

“I don’t,” you replied, squeezing his paw tightly.

His brow furrowed and his eyes searched for any sign that you may have been lying to comfort him, “Mi corazón—”

“It lets me know you’re still there,” you whispered. “It lets me know you’ll be coming home soon.”

He tried to hide a smile, looking away from you. That only lasted for mere seconds, however, since he couldn’t resist your gaze for very long. His red eyes explored your features. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the cut on your lip.

“Déjame ser tu curador,” he muttered, and then he kissed you again.

“Always, Muerte,” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek and pressing a gentle kiss against his nose. “Always.”

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Curador (de enfermos) — Meaning “healer (of the sick)”. ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “El gato...” — “The cat...” ➳ “Cállate...” — “Shut up...” ➳ “Lo siento, mi amor.” — “I’m sorry, my love.” ➳ “Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso... Por tu bien.” — “I wish we had a less painful bond... For your sake.” ➳ “Mi corazón...” — “My heart...” ➳ “Déjame ser tu curador.” — “Let me be your healer.”

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lorsdelapluie · 1 year

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The scene takes place in the world of Puss in Boots 2, in Far far away. The reader in all my one shots concerning this world is the incarnation of bad luck, they are literally just trying to go through life and enjoy however they can.

IT IS HERE THE NSFW CHAPTER LADIES AND GENTS. EAT THIS UP. Im sorry it took so long but I hope it's gonna be worth it :' D

Note: "Chiqui" is spanish pet name that means "Little one".

Part 2- Mi Pareja.

Death was a jealous entity, you got to learn this the hard way. After your first encounter, which occured now several months ago, the wolf would oftenly visit to check on you. Pretending to check if the Lloronas weren't still mad at him for stepping in their ritual and therefore would take their revenge on you. Of course, you didnt buy any of this, you were pretty sure that Las famosas Lloronas didn't hold grudges against you and they probably forgot about that accident. As they were deeply focused on the man they were hunting and not you, you just happened to be in the way. And how would any creature in Far far away dare to hold grudge against Death itself.

Right now, you were stuck in a pool of mud, your high boots now uneapperant as you had your feet deep in this. You couldn't move, and by some strike of luck, a group of men were trying to help you. Tying a rope around you waist as they were trying to pull you away. You perceived every word with crips clarity as they gave you instructions to help you get out of this mess. Hearing every scruff and octave in the men's voice, something which reassured you in some way, making you think of the voice of your protector for the past few months. You felt the rope dip under the back of your belt, scratching your skin. That hurt. But as the pression on the rope grew, the pulls too, you soon could pull out your leg of the mess. You were walking right through this shit, and soon as you came closer to the shore, a hand extended to you.

Your eyes roses, encountering the face of the guy in front of you. He had pale blue eyes, strong face features and pretty brushed golden hair. His outfit, his face and his gentle way of brigging you back on the land with soft smile, even though you cleraly looked like a mess, made you wonder if you were not in front of a prince. What prince, this you could not know. Why ? Cause there was not only one prince in Far far away. Many of them were wealthy, which was the case of the one in front of you, you assumed.

"Who are you ?" you murmured out of curiosity. You turned around, looking at the lake of mud that you just left then your eyes met those pale blue eyes that were looking at you with concern. "Oh, sorry, I completely forgot about the part where i need to be civilized. So, thank you !"

"Vania. Prince Vania. And you are ?" So he was a prince indeed. He slowly grabbed your arm pulling you on the earth, further away from the lake as he looked at the rest of the men that looked like they belonged under his orders. He was ordering them to get you something to clean your... destroyed boots. "And please dont mention it, it's normal to help anyone in distress right ?"

You nodded, forgetting totally to answer the first question. You didn't see the need in doing so. Why would a prince need to know the name of someone who was selling flowers to get by life. Right ? But his gaze never shifted, one brow arching as to ask you to, silently, once again.

"Y/N... I'm sorry sir, I have nothing to offer you, I'm a simple florist... I can't see what any of my possession could bring to your Majesty."

"Fear not my dear. I do not seek for gifts. A smile on this soft face of yours, is already plenty enough to re-pay me." Did all prince talked that way ? What a weirdo you thought. Did he really expect you to swoon like the princesses or other women might do. You let out an awkward chuckle as you slowly slide your arm away for the grasp of Vania.

Deep down, you could sense that the discussion going on right now wasn't right, it was weird. The prince in front of you didn't do anything wrong, no. And here he was kneeling in front of you as he took care of your shoes once a towel was handed to him. Did he thought of you as another potential concubine ? Please, God no. And as soon as you were about to tell him that he needed not clean your shoes that you were much capable of doing so yourself, you could hear a whistle.

No one seemed to notice it, except you. This whistle... You knew where it came from. From a place that wasn't bathing in the sunlight, coming from the muzzle of that dear.. dear wolf. You turned around, searching for him.

As the sunny day turned into piercing winds and low temperatures, like those early dusk and unforgiving pitch-black nights. Was it already that late ? You were standing, facing towards the lake of mud, your eyes searching desperatly for the silhouette of the wolf that you knew was there. You shivered and wrapped your shawl tighter around your shoulders. You needed to go back home, if he manifested his presence to you, he wasn't pleased. You turned around to look at your savior.

"I need to go back home. Thank you once again." You didn't wait for an answer as your legs decided it was time for you to go. And you ran, you needed to go back home. You knew you weren't gonna be safe there, but something inside your mind just yelled at you to go there. For what ? Find an angry wolf ? Why would he be angry for anyway ? Where was he hiding, you could feel his piercing eyes on your back, burnin two holes that didn't help you feel at ease at all. He didn't say a single word, just a simple whistle. This whistle that have heard him do with so many of death's victim. You could picture the glint in his eyes that you knew so well, going from annoyed, to neutral, to hot. This was not good for you in any way. As your mind wandered, you were running, running for your home. When you could see the field of colorful flowers appearing behind the hill, you sighed of relief, your small home resting next to the prettiest lake that might exist. You took the stairs that were leading to your nest. And once you were inside, door closed behind your back... You sighed as you let yourself slid down against the wood. You looked at your boots, taking it off rapidly to throw it to the side. Stupid muddy lake.

But as soon as you stood up, you could sense a freshness settling inside your home. A shiver ran down your spine, feeling your heart rate increase whenever you knew he was inside your home. Inside your safe walls.

"Made a friend back there Chiqui ?" and there he was, his low and raspy voice coming out of the only dark corner of the room. Could he possibly travel thanks to the shadows. You could ask him that someday. But that someday was surely not today, with how the situation was turning. Embarassment settled in your chest, why were you blaming yourself when you did nothing wrong. He just helped you.

"He just helped me... I would hardly call that befriending someone." This must have been a wrong answer considering the low growl that came out of his muzzle. To his own eyes, Death was rarely wrong, moreover was never wrong when he was angry. Which he painfully looked right now?

"Are you implying that I imagined what I saw? That kid on his knees in front of you? With his hand around your arm?" As these words came out of his snout, the wolf’s paws left the shadow in which they comforted. He approached. Dangerously. His lips retracting and that growl coming from the bottom of his throat was a clear indication of his annoyance. "His eyes scanned through you when you were facing backwards, looking for me. I shouldn’t have whistled. I should have come out of the shadows and taken the head of this cheap prince."

Fuck. You made the wrong decision, didn’t you? This is exactly what to do if you want to get murdered. Don’t scream. Don’t get angry. Let him ramble. You looked down, you knew better than look at him right in the eyes when he was angry. It scared you.. Not a lot but a little, probably a natural instinct to fear what was created to end one's life.

Fuck. Miercoles...

But Death wouldn't take you right ? Not because of some misunderstanding. He cared about you. But that behavior awfully looked like a...

Territorial behavior.

It’s just two words, but the implications behind it make your lungs constrict and your heart race. Other adjectives spring up around it, bringing a wave of excitement with them.

Territorial. Possessive. Jealous. You were probably just thinking it right now. Sure Death has been following you around like a shadow those past few weeks. You were awfully suspiscious about that behavior. You even joked about it, but now.. Now he seemed more agressive than usual. And you would be damned but it did aroused you. Well.. Still does.

"Chiqui ?"

He called out, and as you rose your eyes from the floor, the wolf was now in front of you. Did he call for you prior to that ? Wait, he was really close. His eyes were looking right throught you, those white pupils locking into yours. There he was, doing it again.. Reading right through you. And right now ? You were pathetic. Patetically blushing head over heels as you realised your arousal over the wolf in front of you and his display of possessivity.

His muzzle opened, but no voice came out of it. You raise your eyes to look at the wolf ashamed of the feelings curling up inside you right in the moment. And you could have sworn, you saw his eyes darken for a moment. And before you could say anything to defend or ask what was he on about.

"Me vas a volver loco." he breathed in a strained voice as if he was holding himself back. Holding himself from launching onto you.

You will drive me mad, that's what he said. And you murmured back, in that splendid language that was spanish, that he already did that to you. Hearing you speak in your native language always made him stop for a moment. His chest halting as if Death was catching its breath.

“How much do you like this shirt?” he asks, voice lower and more gruff than he probably intended.

“Not much.”

And just like that it shreds with a quick jerk of his claws, and the pieces land somewhere near the corner of the room as he tosses them aside with a careless flick. Some yelp left your mouth, and yet as you should feel afraid.. Embarassed to be half bare in front of him, you didn't try to hide away. You swore that as he looked at you, you saw his throat boped.

You shake your head and laugh softly, trying to ease the tension that was building inside of you as you got shyer and shyer because of his gaze on your body “I feel like some kind of sacrifice in front you like this.”

His blood races, and his muzzle that was above you a few moments ago fell into your neck as his tongue licked that sweet skin of yours. You gasped, but dont try to lean away from the wanted touch. Feeling the teeth brushing on each other side of your throat, when his hands were now roaming over your body hurrying themselves to get you off those layers.

“A worthy offering,” he says, unwrapping that tissu belt and your pants as if you were his most precious treasure. “Any entity would be pleased with such a gift.”

You come to him willingly, eagerly, running your hands over the back of the wolf, nuzzling your fingers inside the white furr. Pressed against his body, the warmth of your body warming up his cold one, as his mouth left your throat to nibble on your ear.

“What about...Hm. A terrible, fearsome monster? Would I make a worthy sacrifice for him, too?”

“That depends on whether you were a willing tribute.” he answered as he stopped himself from nibbling the rest of your body.

“And if I was?”

“If you were, Chiqui…” he says, as his hands slides now on your bear cheeks to carry you towards what was your bed. “Then I would have no choice but to worship you.”

The words are low and rumbling, spoken into the soft skin of your inner thigh as he inches closer and closer to your inner thighs. You gasps again and shifts for him, opens for him, trembling with anticipation. Never you would have thought to see The so feared wolf between your thighs, ready to devour you. And with the first swipe of his tongue over your warm, swollen flesh, you cry out and arches against his hold.

The sight of you struggling to keep your voice to yourself, and those thighs closed is more erotic than anything he ever could have imagined. Wrapped around you soft, plush body, squeezing you tight, keeping you still when you buck and writh with pleasure, it draws on that same dark instinct howling up from the bottom of his soul.

A word keeps repeating in his head, like a mantra as his muzzle devour you, making a wet mess of yourself.

Claim you.

But he was settling for devouring you instead, savoring the offering you bring to him so sweetly.

The taste of you only stokes those instincts higher, stronger, closer to the brink of blissful oblivion. Something he never dared to imagine as he was...Death himself. And you were nothing but a beautiful alive being. Your thighs bracket the sides of his head, pushing against his soft furr and he grunts in approval, tightening his grip on you and sinking his fingertips into the curve of your ass.

You were both lost in the moment, him not caring for the claws of his back paws clawing at the floor and leaving marks in the wood. And you not caring enough to keep your voice down as you were riding, the soft sensation of his tongue and teeth literally eating you out.

Knock knock.

That caught you off-guard. You both stopped, looking at each others. The ears of the white wolf perking at the top of his head. Before you could see a frown appear on his face, a growl pushing its way behind his teeth. Unhappy. Who was-

"Darling are you okay ?"

Wait.. That voice. You were pretty sure you recognize it. It was the prince from earlier. Did he follow you here ? Did hear you ? Wait. Darling ? That nickname was revolting. The face of the wolf raising from between your thighs, as his tongue passes upon his upper lip, a growl settling in the back of his throat. Not a desiring growl, but a threatening one. That was not good, your legs grabbed him in place, crossing behind his neck. Blocking him.

"Chi-"

"I'm quite busy at the moment ! Could you please go away." you ask in a strangled voice as you were slowly coming down from your high state. You didn't really catch what he answered you cause the next moment Death's tongue was back on you. It doesn’t take long until your body is taut and straining again, cries wishing to grow louder and more insistent. Mostly when the wolf between your thighs pushes against that sweet sweet spot. And yet you could hear that SO annoying voice coming from behind the door.

"Desaparece cabron !" You yelled, ash he stroked and eased you through every spasm of your climax, keeping you firmly held on the bed as you were doing for him, coming apart against his tongue.

Stars. You were seeing stars, literally. A laugh rumbling between your thighs, as you looked down at Death sliding his thumb to collect the rest of you on his lip. When you were finally settling down, your thighs were freeing the man you had in a choke hold.

"If I only knew you could curse like that."

"Is he gone..?" You breath out.

"Por favor, don't mention him ever again. He is far. Now it's my time. And I need to know, one important thing."

You looked at him frowning, wondering what could he possibly ask in that moment. You pray, please no more question about if they were friends or not..

“How much of me do you want, Chiqui?”

How much ? You asked yourself that question a while back. You were looking at Death's back as he was walking in front of you in some dark forest, two months ago. The spores of some mushrooms in the environment making your imagination run wild. You wondered if he knew already back then.. You pictured him above you, licking his teeth like he often does when he is about to eat up a meal you prepared. Hungry or impatient... You couldn't say. And you would look down at his inner thigh, cheeks growing hot. Would you like that ?

The answer doesn't come right away, Death wondering if you were unsure. But his eyes wandered, looking at your still moving hips, chasing the pleasure he was more than willing to give you. When he pressed his teeth into you skin in a small reminder, though, you gaze up so lustfully up at him.

And fuck, were you beautiful, once again you could see his chest raise. Your eyes glazed with pleasure, lips parted on a gasp, cheeks flushed.

“All of you,” you whisper. “I want all of you, Death.”

His answering groan echoes in the room. Leaving you breathless, you could almost taste the anticipation and the craving in the air.

“Are you sure?”

Soflty, your hands run through the puff of his cheeks. Your fingers ruffling the white hair. And your look gave the answer, you were looking at him like he ever wanted you to look at him since he first laid his preying eyes on you.

Maybe it’s what he always needed. Someone to be patient with him. Someone to be dedicated to him.

He has now a hand on each of your thighs, holding you open, as he raised from the floor, towering you down, one knee resting now on the bed.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” You breathe. “Yes, I trust you.”

One hand leaves your thigh, catching your chin between his fingers, tipping your head forward. “Look down, Y/N. See what you do to me.”

Between your legs, you could see his cock, hard and pulsing against your damp thigh (wait when did he get rid of his pants), you could feel the red rushing to your cheeks. That was...big. And it didn't look like any human male sex you had ever seen.

Not like you intentionally seen lots of them.

A laugh echoes in the room, while the wolf deciphers the expression you display. His face regaining its previous poise, his mouth opening and laying his fangs around your throat. Slowly, the fingers that had explored your entrance find their place again to continue this work of relaxation. He and you both knew that if you weren’t relaxed enough, this whole thing could be a lot more painful than either of you wanted. You push your head back, resting on the matress within a soft moan.

“That’s it,” The wolf grates out when you bear down and shift open to take him deeper. “Just like that, Chiqui.”

You could feel his voice rumble against your throat as he slides his tongue against you skin once again. Pressing his jaw around you, catching your breath. Enough pressure to cut your breath when you took too deep breaths. As warmth floods through you with his graveled praise. Warmth and trust and painfully sweet tenderness that only ratchets up every other sensation.

The feeling of Death’s fingers breaching you, filling you, diving deep and branding you from the inside out, is like absolutely nothing You’ve ever felt before. Pulsing and alive?, twisting and shifting and fitting itself to the shape of you. And you could feel him grind against your thigh, trying to releave some of that build up tension in between his legs.

“So mesmerizing. Do you think you can take some more?”

He asked as he pulled his teeth away, locking his gaze into yours. You nod, but he brings his free hand up to cup your chin, tilting your head up toward him.

“Let me hear your words.”

“Yes! I want more. Por favor.”

“Ask, and it’s yours,” he rasps, and pushes in another finger that makes you gasp.

Your thighs shake from the impossible, building waves of pleasure and the Wolf tightens his hold on you, spreading you even wider as his three rather larger fingers dives deep and retreats.

His knotted cock bumps up against your inner thigh, and a small pulse of uncertainty moves through you. You had no idea how you were going to take all that. Long, thick, and already weeping from the tip, your core tightens just looking at it.

Death seems to read your hesitation as if you were an open book in front of him, because he leans in to whisper low and dark into your ear.

“I’ll make sure you’re ready for me, Chiqui.”

Inside of you, the fingers he’s impaled you on shifts and twists, growing thicker somehow as he spreads them. The stretch of it boarders on too much, making you squirm and moan and press back against him, but you are not about to ask him to stop. When you tangle your hands into his furr and pull his head forward to claim his mouth, he growls and presses even deeper, fitting himself against the spot he drove you wild with just a few minutes ago.

There, right there, hitting that sensitive spot inside and ripping another scream from you as you climax crests and breaks. He works you through every spasm, drawing the pleasure out until you are half-certain you are going to pass out from it.

"Death-"

Your words cut off at his sharp growl and his tongue crashes past your lips. He’s ravenous as he strokes his tongue deep, hand on your throat, keeping you pinned in place. And when he notches his cock against your entrance, the clawing need to have him inside steals your breath.

Death breaks the kiss and looks down. Expression hungry, an animalistic growl, he watches himself nudge against you once, twice, before sliding the blunted tip inside.

Just that—just the smallest part of him—is already enough to make you feel stretched and full. His shuddering breath breaks against your shoulder as he drives his hips forward another inch, then another, until you are meeting him thrust for gentle thrust, groaning at the impossible feel of him sliding deeper.

“Dios,” he says. “Déjame tomarme mi tiempo contigo. Me estás absorbiendo.”

You hear him, but with each inch gained you are getting more impatient. Letting out a small moan of protest, you shift your hips, straining to take more of him, and his answering growl rumbles all the way through you.

“Greedy. So greedy, my Y/N. Shall I be merciful and give you what you want?”

“Please,” You gasp. "Por favor, deja-"

You don’t get to finish begging.

With a powerful upward thrust, he fills you up entirely and wrenches a ragged scream from the back of your throat. He’s there, bottomed out, sunk to the hilt in you. You are stretched so full that for a few long moments all you can do is drop your head back against the bed and close your eyes, trying to adjust to the feel of him.

“Bellissima,” he murmurs, rolling his hips in a way that makes another moan rasp from your throat. “Look at you taking me so well, my mate.”

Mate. You knew that was a language used between wolves. Inside a pack... A mate is a partner. A partner for life. You knew thanks to that , that Death is mindless at this point, too far gone into the magic being woven between the two of you to think about what he’s saying.

When you look down and see yourself stretched around him, feel the insistent pulse of him inside of you and the light press of his teeth against your neck, searching a way for the back of it, there’s no part of you that shies away from that word.

My mate.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough. Reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck for leverage, you grind into his thrusts and move restlessly against him, begging for more. More pleasure. More touch. More of the wild, incredible feel of him.

You must moan at least some of it out loud, because he growls low in his throat. “You need more from me, Chiqui?”

“Yes! Please.”

When he pulls out of you, you cry out sharply in protest. It’s only a couple of seconds, though, before he’s got you turned around and pushed up against the cotton of the sheets,his teeth finds the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your body, his hand pressing you into the bed, as he slams back into you.

It’s more intense than before, heavier, deeper. You don't know if that was the bite at the back of your neck that was driving you to madness, or the feeling of his knot pushing inside you. Stretching you to the maximum, making you scream his name. It was burning you up from the inside out until it breaks with a ferocity that blanks your vision out for a few long, ecstatic moments.

He comes just after you do, driving deep and exploding in you, locked by his knot, with a wash of heat that makes your belly flutter and your body go lax under his.

You obviously had a hard time coming down from that feeling you just had. But so did he. The erastic breathing that you could feel against your neck as the fangs did not let go, brought you little by little back to the world of the living. Soon you could hear the movement whipping the air from the wolf’s tail. Then the bed began to crack. Death let go of your neck, the moment the creak reach his ears, he was leaning to hard on the bed, and was about to break it.

Slowly, you could feel his weight lifting up from you, and his tongue running on the mark and the droplets of blood he left behind. A soft sigh left your lips as you could feel the knot of the male above you softening and he could finally pull out.

And as slowly, he reaches down to take your numb body against him, his nose nuzzling against your jaw just under your ear his a soft hum.

"You smell like me."

A small laugh escpaed your lips. You surely didn't expect that to come out first. You were relaxed in his arms, completely sated, andhe couldn't help but internally purr in pleasure to see you so undone. And a smile even peeked out at the sound of your laugh.

His mate. Satisfied. Happy. Utterly fucked-out and his.

"You reeked of the kid earlier. I thought I was going to lose my mind." he growled against your ear, flattening his ears back at the thought surely bothering him again.

"Feels like you did."

Despite your laugh, the wolf growls at the mockery. "It is not a mistake, Chiqui. You are mine. And now... Everybody will know that Death itself maked you."

Oh... And here you go blushing again, and it was his turn to laugh.

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multifandomsimagine · 1 year

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Imagine helping your daughter make breakfast to surprise the Wolf for Father's Day

"Do you want me to help you, mija?" You ask your daughter, wincing slightly as you watch the cup of coffee on the tray shake precariously as she makes her way up the stairs. Though she tries to carefully move up the stairs, everything on the tray seems to be on the verge of spilling and it makes you worried. There would be no time to do a do-over breakfast before the Wolf wakes up.

She shakes her head. "I want to carry it up to Papa!"

With a silent sigh, you follow close behind her. Your hand hovering behind her back to catch her in case she slips. But miraculously she gets makes it up without spilling anything. She walks up to your bedroom door and looks at you impatiently. "Mama, hurry!"

You open the bedroom door for her and watch with a smile as she walks inside. She spots the Wolf and instantly grins, forgetting the surprise the two of you had come up with as all she can think about was her father. Setting the tray on the floor, your daughter rushes to the bed and climbs on top of it. She jumps onto her father – which makes him let out an oomph – wrapping her arms around his neck as she gives him a big kiss on his cheek. "Apá! Happy Father's Day!"

With a shake of your head, you bent down and picked up the breakfast tray before making your way to the duo. Setting it down on the nightside beside your husband, you sat next to him as you watched him pull her to his chest and begin peppering kisses all over your daughter's face.

"Apa!" She giggled, trying to get away from him, "It tickles!" But he only tightens his grip and he continues amidst her laughter. She pointed to the tray. "Look at what we made!"

Stopping his attack, he sits up, his back resting on the bed's headrest as looks at the tray she had brought in. "Chilaquiles. My favorite!" He grabbed the plate and set it on his legs. "Gracias mi nena." He gives her another kiss on the cheek.

"Mama made it! But I cracked the eggs!" She puffed her chest out, proud of her part in the breakfast.

He ruffles her hair. "The hardest part of making chilaquiles."

Reaching out for you, the Wolf cups your cheek with his hand and pulls you into a kiss. He's careful to not spill the plate onto the bed as he tries to convey everything he's feeling at the moment. Thank you for doing this. Thank you for making marrying me. Thank you for this family.

#Bullet Train x reader #Bullet Train imagine #Bullet Train imagines #The Wolf x reader #The Wolf imagine #The Wolf imagines #yoshino writes imagines #Happy DILF day!!

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werecreature-addicted · 6 months

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I'm so sick of Werewolf x Bunny!!!!! There are so many other animals out there!!!!

Lamb/ sheep, an innocent little thing who's never been off the farm, and thinks the wolf is just trying to feel their fluffy tail while the big bad wolf gropes their ass.

Deer being chased and hunted by every wolf in the forest, they're the prize everyone wants to catch, and mount (ha) on their wall. And when they get caught they get claimed while the rest of the pack seethes in jealousy.

Fox/ Cyottee who thinks they're hot shit and likes toying with other little vermin only to be caught off guard by the bigger wolf and fucked into submission.

Fucking wolves eat fish throw in a river mermaid. It doesn't even have to be the whole hunter/ hunted dynamic write a werewolf/ mountain lion pairing. Cowards.

#this is a personal beef #obviously it's fine if you like to see cute little bunny reader get fucked by the big bad wolf #I'm just personally looking for more variety #werewolves #werewolf #monster #monster imagine #werewolf x reader #teratophillia

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the-geeky-fangirl · 10 months

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yes i know heartstopper is "cringe" and yes I know you think it's not that deep but you've endured years of cringe oversexualized shows about high schoolers where the gays are delegated to sub plots I'm sure a few hours of queer people being safe and happy and loved won't kill you so please shut the fuck up

#im so fucking TIRED of people acting like heartstopper is a new brand of cringe #they're literal 15/16 year olds what the fuck do you wqnt from them #imagine letting the vampire diaries and teen wolf run for as long as they did and then complaining about this #just say you hate queer joy and leave #heartstopper #heartstopper season 2 #nick and charlie #tao xu #elle argent #tara jones #darcy olsson #tara and darcy #tao and elle #isaac henderson #alice oseman #kit connor #joe locke #for those aaking yea i did come across a bunch of people calling it cringe and i took it personally

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heartfullofleeches · 19 days

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Rabbit, playing with "Sheep's" floppy ears: Hm, hm, hm- My cute adorable puppy, won't you join me for a romantic stroll someday?

"Sheep" Reader: H-huh?! What did you call me??

Rabbit: S-Sheep! My cute sheep! That's what I said! Don't panic, my love!

Mouse: Scary! Sheep has been a predator this whole time? They must be plotting something right now!

[Mouse peeks through "Sheep's" window to find them curled up in their bed, holding a stick doll Mouse made for them in their arms - tail wagging as they clutch it tighter to their chest]

Mouse: So c-cute.... Surely someone that cute can't be a threat. I'll keep an eye on them from now on!

Swan: Here. I brought you a necklace.

"Sheep" Reader: T-this looks a lot like a dog collar....

Swan: Ugh- A thank you would be nice. Just put it in

"Sheep" Reader: How am I supposed to take it off later? There's a keyhole where the latch should be...

Sheep" Reader: Mayor....Do I really have to do this?

Mayor Elk: Come now, I have to reward you for all your help today.

"Sheep" Reader: I have to contribute somehow if I'm going to live here. Sir, it's embarrassing. Nobody would love that side of me anyway....

Mayor Elk: Don't be modest, my dear. You are stunning in whatever skin you wear.

[Wolf Reader removes their disguise - nearly dying of embarrassment as the mayor pats their head]

Mayor Elk: Now, who's a good wolf?

Wolf Reader: I...I am.

#sheep reader #wolf reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere oc #female yandere

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multific · 2 months

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Motherhood

Yautja x Reader

Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human.

You felt sore all over.

You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.

You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.

Yet, something felt out of place.

As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.

The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you.

You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.

He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up.

It wasn’t always like that.

He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.

You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.

It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.

He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.

He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.

You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.

You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.

He laid in your lap.

“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands.

You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.

He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.

This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.

Your baby.

This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.

It was crazy to think about.

Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange.

You looked at your son.

“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.

You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.

You watched as he fed.

He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.

Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.

And your son was no exception.

While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son.

A highly anticipated member.

Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.

One of which was to bring a son into the world.

Which you just managed to do.

You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.

And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.

Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.

“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.

Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.

Did Yautja babies even burp?

Guess you will find out soon.

He did burp.

A small little burp.

And soon, he was off again.

You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.

You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.

He looked at you then at your son in your arms.

“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.

You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers.

Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.

Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.

But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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strangerstilinski · 9 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 1 — 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐞

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

You'd both sworn. You'd sworn that you wouldn't subject yourselves to sex in the Jeep ever again. Not after the last time ended with so many unnecessary injuries between the two of you. Following one rolled ankle, a noticeable egg on the back of your head, and a bruise to Stiles' elbow that had been so worryingly dark that the purple had been mottled with spots nearly black in color, it was decided that handjobs were fine, blowjobs were great, fingering was.. sufficient. But full-out sex — You had sworn, never again. And, yet..

You can't find it in yourself to care when the dizzying warmth of Stiles' breath falls against your spit slick, kiss swollen lips. Your mouths have separated only as a result of the way he's trying to maneuver you into a better position, a closer position, large hands encasing your waist as he drags you over to straddle his lap. The moment you've settled against his thighs, his hands are already pushing their way up underneath your skirt, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties as his mouth finds its way to your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

And fuck if your own hands aren't already scrambling to undo the button on his jeans, tearing them open and pushing up on your knees just enough that you two of you can work his pants and boxers down his thighs just a few inches.

His cock springs free, already almost fully hard with the anticipation of what's to come, and your mouth nearly waters at the sight. You will never tire of the sight of Stiles' cock, you're sure of it. When your hand wraps around him, your fingers don't meet, and when you give the fat length of him a gentle tug, he groans deliciously into the skin of your throat, hips jerking up as he chases the feeling.

“Hey, slow down, why don'tcha?” Stiles teases softly, “Why're you in such a hurry, huh? Got somewhere else to be or-” He cuts off with another quiet groan as you twist your wrist the way he likes, “Or something?”

“Shush, you.” You reply with a smacking kiss to his mouth.

His fingers are moving in a teasing touch beneath your skirt, skimming the sensitive skin of your belly before finding home on your thighs. He gives the softness a pinch just hard enough to have you gasping before he's slipping beneath the fabric to drag long fingers between your folds.

“Shit, babe,” Stiles groans, his lips finding your cheek again before he drops a light kiss to your chin, “You're this wet already?” He asks, as if you haven't been working each other up for the last twenty minutes with heated touches and even hotter kisses.

He punctuates his question by slipping two fingers inside you in a ridiculously easy glide, the stretch making your eyebrows pull together as your jaw falls slack. He's giving you shallow thrusts, trying to open you up a little and get you ready for what will come next, and your free hand falls to his arm, tethering yourself with fingers circling his wrist in a firm grip. The way the muscles in his arm work with each drag out and then back in has your fingernails digging little crescent moons beneath the dark hairs on his forearm.

Your head is thrown back in pleasure, and it feels like it might weigh a million pounds when you drag it forward again to drop your forehead to his, your hips rocking down onto his fingers and your hand still working him to full hardness, closing over the head of his cock and collecting his precome just to slip back down his length again and again.

It had been days of longing glances across crowded rooms, and lingering touches that were a little unnecessary but desperately craved, and pushing maybe a little too far into each other's space when one of you needed to grab something just to feel the sparks along your skin. Each tiny moment shared had built upon one another slowly, day after day, and now that you're together, skin on skin and teeth and tongues on lips — that fire between you finally burns bright again.

You're both panting a little breathlessly already, worked up beyond belief after not finding moment alone like this in what feels like ages. Hot breaths mingle between your parted lips, the sound of it broken up by the quiet little noises clawing their way up your throats.

You've missed him desperately amidst the chaos that the week has brought. You find yourself wanting him to wreck you beyond repair, to turn your brain inside out until he is all that remains — no stresses about infuriating assholes in the form of college professors, or pack disputes, or the supernatural threat of the week — and the way Stiles continues to work his fingers inside you, pushing in deep until he's caressing that spot that makes your vision white out a bit at the edges, you think he's well on his way toward that wreckage.

“Condom?” You question desperately, tugging at his wrist in signal for him to extract himself from you.

He's muttering to himself while he fumbles to get access to where his back pocket is scrunched up beneath his thighs and you push up onto your knees all the while, maneuvering your underwear down one leg and then the other until you're free of them. When he produces the little foil packet, you take it from him without prompt, tearing it open and rolling it down over him in a quick, practiced motion that has him biting his lips together to hold back a curse.

Stiles slides his hips down the seat a bit further and grips the backs of your thighs to support you as you guide his tip to your entrance. The moment you start to sink down, his fingers dig into the doughy flesh of your thighs, fingertips curling below the curve of your ass to help spread you wider as he fills you up nice and slow.

“You got it, baby,” Stiles praises quietly, lips catching against your cheekbone to leave a small peck to your flushed skin, “There y'go.”

You're shuddering through your breaths as you accommodate to the stretch, knowing that every inch just a precursor to where he's thickest at the base. It's slow going, painful and delicious all at once, but when your hips finally meet his, clit nestling right up against the thatch of hair that trails from his belly button down to where you're connected, you let out a breathy sigh of relief.

Now that you're seated, his hands leave your backside to skate higher, rough fingertips dragging up to the back of your skirt to massage at your spine. You feel him fiddle with the zip at the back, his eyes meeting yours in silent question before you're nodding and he's giving it a tug and freeing you from the thick fabric.

You can't help but look down, and that first glimpse of where you've sucked him in, where he's filling you to the brim, has you eagerly rocking your hips a little to test the stretch. There's still a bit of an ache, a sharp little sting where you're stretched the widest, but it's lessening already and you can feel that pleasurable fullness behind your navel settling in.

“Almost,” You update him quietly, combing your fingers through the strands of his hair and grinning softly when he cranes into your touch, “Jus' need another minute.”

“Take as much time as you need,” He returns earnestly, “You know I'm just enjoying gettin' you like this. Missed you. This week was the worst.”

And it truly has been. Nearly every minute of every day, start to finish, has been an onslaught of lectures and assignments due and pack bullshit that you're both inevitably dragged into every goddamn time — the presence of the token pack humans always necessary if only to give another perspective to a mundane issue that, really, probably could've been solved by your brother and his co-alpha alone. Scott and Derek really shouldn't need to drag the two of you into every little problem — which in turn would leave the two of you with ample time to sneak off somewhere to do this, perhaps in a bed, without the risk of bonked heads or twisted ankles or the bruises that came with ravishing each other in such close confines. And yet, and yet.

You nod in agreement, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape to give it a soft tug, “Been so busy with classes. N' there've been way, way too many pack meetings,” You complain in a quiet huff, “Not enough time for this..” He grumbles his own agreement as your thumb finds the large beauty mark beneath his ear, “I missed you too.” You return softly.

Stiles is patient as ever, his fingers taking the time to explore every bit of exposed skin on your body with a gentle touch. His arms circle your waist only to release you a second later to run his warm palms up your spine and give your shoulders a squeeze. His movements slow for a moment when he finds the band of your bra, pinching and unclasping it in a practiced motion, and then his big hands are making their way back to the front of your ribs, thumbs dragging against the soft underside of your breasts as he dips his head to press kisses to the newly exposed skin.

You lean back a bit to give him more space to work, savoring in the feeling of his mouth peppering soft kisses over your breasts as your own hands fall from his neck to rest on his pecs. Your fingers trail over dark freckles that dot his skin, nails scraping ever so gently into the patch of hair at the center of his chest.

Even with the windows cracked to let in a bit of the crisp autumnal air, the temperature in the Jeep creeps higher, the windows already fogged over with a thin sheen of condensation that smears lightly when you brace your right hand against the window. Five little streaks through the microscopic drops of water covering the cool glass, one to mark where each of your fingers scrape across the surface as you finally rise up onto your knees.

A pitiful little grunt falls from your lips as you drop back down, the sound pushed out with the sheer depth that his cock manages to reach in this position, so full that you can nearly taste him at the back of your throat.

You settle into a slow rhythm and Stiles grabs a hold of your hips as you do, but he's not guiding you, no. He's not aiming for control, not pushing you to go harder or faster, but rather simply holding on and following your movements, his thumbs tracing little concentric circles against the sides of you belly as you go at your own pace.

“Fuck,” You groan when your knees slip a little against the leather seat. It pushes him impossibly deeper than before, driving his tip against your cervix in a way that erupts goosebumps along your skin even in the warm car. “You’re so deep. 'S so big, baby. You're so big-”

You're not even sure what's coming out of your mouth, already a little drunk on the feeling of being filled so completely, on the slick drag every time you rise up and then the sharp jolt to every one of your nerve endings with each thrust back down. Despite the ramblings falling from your lips, or perhaps because of them, Stiles begins to make little noises of his own — guttural moans against the curve of your throat, quiet grunts each time he hits deep.

He tips his head back and the warm brown in his eyes is almost completely taken over by black with how his pupils have blown wide. You catch sight of a small bead of sweat as it works its way out of his hair and begins a slow trail down his temple but you're kissing it away before it can reach his cheekbone. The salt of it lingers on your lips when your tongue runs over them just a moment later.

Dark eyes watch you move with rapt attention, his lips parted to let out low groans of encouragement. It takes a few minutes for him to find his voice, but when he does, his words send heat flooding through you.

“So good,” He tells you, hand tucking a lock of sweat-dampened hair behind your ear before his wide palm settles against the side of your neck, his voice thick with arousal, “Always so good. You're- Shit, y're so tight. So warm. So perfect.”

The thumb resting at the bottom of your cheek creeps up higher, rubbing the plush of your bottom lip until your jaw falls slack in acceptance and then he's cupping your chin and pushing the pad of his finger down against the softness of your tongue. You bite down softly with a moan and your bottom teeth dig into the meat of his palm with just how deep he's got his thumb before you're pulling off just a little and closing your lips around it, sucking and swirling your tongue and reeling at the way his eyes flutter shut with a groan, like he can't quite handle the sight in combination with the way you're riding him slow and deep.

When he removes his thumb, you suck harder to combat the spit that threatens to cling to the digit, but it doesn't make much of a difference because he's already sliding his hand around the back of your neck and bringing your mouth down against his.

You brace one hand on his stomach to aid your moments as your tongues meet in a hungry kiss. A whimper finds its way up your throat when he rubs his free hand achingly slow up and down the front of your thigh, around to grope your ass and then back, smoothing and squeezing along your skin like he wants to be touching you more — Harder, tighter, everywhere all at once.

He's so, so deep like this and you can tell it's affecting him too. His kisses are hungry as he licks into your mouth, a little messy while his nose presses into your cheek and his fingers graze your waist on their journey toward your chest. He's thumbing over the peaks of your nipples, swallowing up your moans with his own, breathing a little like he's the one getting the air punched out of his lungs every time you seat yourself, burying him deep enough that the head of his cock is driving into that spot that makes you see stars.

Your brain goes a little hazy with your budding orgasm, tiny noises becoming more frequent, falling against his mouth a bit like a plea. You don't need to explain, Stiles is already dragging his hand up to push between your thighs, thumb circling your clit the way he knows you like. Your eyebrows furrow as you slip from the kiss, far too focussed on chasing your high now. You bounce a little faster, shallower, fingers scraping at the pale skin of his chest, eyes pinched shut as your thighs tremble with exertion and your knees ache.

Heat licks across your body, a bead of sweat trickling down your spine as your movements start to become a little more difficult. You're so close — so close-

“C'mon, you're doing so good, baby.” Stiles says with far too much tenderness, far too much amazement.

“Fuck,” You whimper, shaky breaths tearing from your chest as you teeter closer and closer, “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“You got it. You can do it. C'mon-”

His gentle praises send you careening over the edge and your whole body shakes as you try to work through it. You're struggling, but then Stiles' hands are under your ass again, guiding you this time, gripping the backs of your thighs tight as he supports some of your weight and helps you ride out your high. Every nudge of his cock against the deepest parts of you has you moaning louder, brain going a little fuzzy as your orgasm peaks but never quite dies off.

Your arms curl around his shoulders, digging your face into his neck as you gasp against his skin, thighs shaking as he keeps guiding you back and forth, not pulling out nearly as far now before he's dragging you against him and filling you back up. Your breasts are pushed tight against his chest. The smell of his aftershave is in your nose and your forehead is pressed into his sweat slicked neck. You're panting, nearly drooling on his shoulder as you try to lock your knees to hold yourself in place, thighs feeling exhausted and like jelly all at once.

“Sti. Fuck, baby, I can't-” A moan cuts you off as it rolls off your tongue, “My legs can't-”

“Aw, your legs too tired, baby girl?” He asks, and it comes out a little condescending. You can practically see the satisfied little smirk on his face, even from where your own is buried in his neck as you nod. He lifts you up a little higher, hands still grasping at the crease where your thighs meet your ass as he adjusts his hips beneath you, “Need me to do the work now?”

The teasing in his voice has your body going traitorously pliant, your voice weak when it finally comes, “Please.”

“I got you,” Stiles promises, taking a little pity. He drags one hand toward the center of your spine while the other falls to the outside of your knee to hold you steady, “I got you..”

The first thrust up into you has you crying out. Not hitting nearly as deep as before, but he's driving in so much harder, so much faster. It pulls whiny little gasps from your lips with each thrust and your jaw's gone slack where it's buried in his neck as his skin slaps against yours with every snap of his hips. The sound of it is loud, and the combination of noises both lewd and salacious only proves to turn you on that much more.

“Shit.” Stiles grunts, voice a little hoarse and yet somehow high as it catches in his throat, “You make the prettiest noises, baby. Fuck. Just listen t' you.”

You don't entirely mean for it, but your next moan is just a little louder in response, unabashed and desperate even as you attempt to muffle the sound of it in the curve of his shoulder. The pitch his voice has taken is one that you only get to hear when he's getting unbearably close to his own peak. The sound of it is so, so sweet to your ears, mingling with the obscenely wet glide of his cock sliding in and out of you.

“'M gonna come,” He warns, his hips jerking just a bit rougher, a bit less coordinated as he fucks up into you, “Shit. Shit, sweetheart, 'm.. gonna.. come-”

His arms curl and lock around your waist as he does, dragging you down against him and burying himself so deep that it has you crying out again, fingers digging into his shoulders where your arms have curled under his to hold tight. He comes with a moan and a grunt that both get muffled with the way his face is now hidden in your hair, his cock kicking up inside you as he releases into the condom.

The increased stimulation against your sensitive walls has you going a little teary in the best way, overwhelmed but loving every moment of it, and you roll your hips over him despite the soreness in your thighs just to hear the way he groans in response.

You pull back just enough to lock your fingers in the hair at his nape and tug him into a sweet kiss, it's warm and a little sweaty as your lips slide together but it's also so full of unspoken thanks and emotion and undeclared love.

When you lean back again to collectively catch your breath, his thumb finds your wet eyelashes and swipes at them gently.

“Oh- hey, you good?” He checks with concern, his free hand already at your waist and drawing soft patterns along your skin, “You okay?”

You turn your head into the hand on your cheek and press a kiss to the center of his palm, scraping at his scalp beneath sweat-dampened locks, “I'm good,” You promise, “Gonna be sore as fuck tomorrow though, God.”

A smirk finds its way onto his face, “Fucked you so good you're gonna have trouble walkin', huh?”

“Shut up,” You huff, a laugh slipping out in contradiction to your weak display of annoyance, “But with the way my thighs feel right now? Yeah.”

You wince as you push up onto your knees, both from the ache left behind as he slips out and from the soreness in your legs. When you rise up a little higher, your head hits the roof with a painful thump and you can't bite back a curse.

Stiles is quick to bring a hand up to the back of your head with a sympathetic wince, cradling the tender spot on your skull softly, “Oh, shit, y'alright?”

“Ow,” You respond with a pout, your own hand reaching back to cover his over your hair, “Stupid Jeep n' stupid metal roof..”

“Hey,” Stiles frowns, “Don't blame the Jeep, alright? It's not Roscoe's fault you bumped your head.”

“Is too.”

It comes out in a huff and Stiles chuckles in amusement at your disgruntled expression as he slips his hands under your thighs to help you dismount from his lap completely. You fall into the seat beside him and drop your calves over his knees, bumping your forehead against his shoulder in a silent gesture of gratitude.

After a few long minutes wrapped up in each other as you collect yourselves, you both gather your haphazardly discarded clothing and redress. Stiles digs out a new air freshener from the glove compartment and adds it to the hoard of them already hanging from the rearview mirror. Another little tree to the collection, this one a pretty shade of purple and smelling of berries, dropping to sit right atop number of similarly shaped scented hangers in a wide array of colors.

And later, when you're forced to part ways, you push up onto your toes as you lean back in through the driver's side window of the Jeep for one final kiss. The breeze is cool against your thighs as it catches beneath your skirt, goosebumps causing you to tighten your fingers around the window frame as you prepare to lean back. Stiles has a hand coming up to the back of your neck to hold you in place at the first sign that you're about to pull away, stretching the kiss out for as long as he can get away with. It's a sickly sweet press of lips. One that will hopefully be enough to hold you over until you get the chance to have him like this again.

A glance over your shoulder as you walk away has your gaze meeting Stiles one last time, elation and melancholy both pulling at the edges of your lips until you're left with a saccarine smile to pair with your tiny wave goodbye. Your fingers come up to brush your lips as you begin to turn away, and when you extend your hand in his direction Stiles nearly throws himself out the open window to catch the invisible kiss that you've sent his way. His unnecessary enthusiasm has you stifling a giggle as you finally turn your back to him and make your way down the street.

You're forced to jog around the block from where Stiles has dropped you a safe distance from your house, hopping into the shower the moment you get home to wash away any and all evidence of the afternoon from your skin.

It's with skin scrubbed clean and a heavy heart that you head to the washing machine and dump your clothes inside to extinguish the lingering smell of Stiles that you know clings to the fabric, of you and Stiles, together.

And when Scott pauses the load mid-wash with the intention of throwing a shirt in, your brother is sure to complain about the way you've pointedly used the scented detergent — the overpowering artificial smell of lavender much too strong an irritant to his overly-sensitive, supernatural, wolfy nose — But, you remind yourself, if you want to keep up this thing with Stiles, which you desperately do, then that's just how this has to go, because, well.

𝐒 𝐜 𝐨 𝐭 𝐭 𝐲 𝐃 𝐨 𝐞 𝐬 𝐧 ' 𝐭 𝐊 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 .

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝!𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠!! 𝐢 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐦 — 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬.

#don't tell scotty #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles smut #teen wolf imagine #stiles fanfiction #*#teen wolf stiles #teen wolf smut #dylan o'brien fanfiction #mccall!reader #stiles x mccall!reader

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silentmacabre · 9 months

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man stays baffled

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #mtv teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #void stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #void stiles fanfiction #derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles x lydia #stydia #fanfic #writers on tumblr #dylan obrien #stiles x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine

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queenie-the-court-jester · 3 months

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Yandere farm x farmhand reader 🌾

A/n: this contains few nsfw mentions, mdni please! They're not all that yandere, just a bunch of dumb silly hybrids trying to catch their favorite humans attention. This is their intro

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙

★yandere farm x farmhand reader. I know this isn't original, but I always love the concept. Just minding your business, sweaty and hot from the sun, when suddenly a certain German Shepard hybrid starts sniffing you up and down, lapping up your sweaty skin and grinning when you swat him away. How did you end up here?

★maybe you came here for a summer job, maybe some relatives owned the farm, maybe you were always working here. Either way, it doesn't take long for the hybrids to notice you once you arrive.

★the bulls and cows watching curiously from the fields, the centaurs trying to peek from their stables, the merfolk living in the lake just down the property poke their little heads out. The dogs barking from their Little homes, and the cats watching from the windows. You couldn't help but gawk at the variety of hybrids, there were so many! Merfolk, avians, cattle, cats, dogs.

★your first week there was nice, the other farmhands were nice, and the owners were so sweet! Always speaking fondly of their pets, the old couple would watch them run in the field or play by the lake. You yourself found them a little annoying. Always sniffing, grabbing, nipping at your clothes. You've had to fight your overall bottoms free from one of the pooches one too many times. The cats were no better.

★your second week you meet the cattle and centaurs. And unlike the house cats and guard dogs, they're less handsy. Simply observing from afar. Occasionally sniffing you before nodding their heads and pulling away. Letting you do your job of combing, cleaning and fixing up them and their stables. The cattle would happily let you milk them, applying the breast pumps to the females and a cock pump to the males. You ignored how they looked at you strangely during milkings

★the third week you meet the avians. Odd little bunch, hopping around and puffing up their chests. They watched you enter their enclosure curiously, you were busy picking up their molten feathers because you thought they were pretty. So bright and colorful! Walking around bent over a little when you finally notice the peacock male standing right Infront of you. He gave you a pointed look before his tail feathers expanded. Looking prideful, tilting his chin up as if in an arrogant way. Swaying side to side and closer to you, while you just held the feathers in your hands, a little confused. He got closer until he let out an incredibly loud squawk. Turning around abruptly to glare at the cuckoo who bent down to poke his butt. The cuckoo gave you a grin before climbing back up the tree, using this time as distraction, you quickly escaped.

★on the fourth week, you meet the merfolk. Having been here a month, they were eager to meet you. Watching you walk on the dock with fish feed, eagerly Perking up and swimming closer. You shook out a good handful and chucked it out for the koi fish to eat. They swarmed the area until all the food was gone, simply staring up at you. One poked her head out, tilting it a bit and making a 'click' sound with her tongue. You mimicked her, doing the same. She seemed elated, making various whistles and clicks, splashing up and down the lake. The lake was manmade and filled with koi fish when it was finished, but then again there may be more fish not even the owners know about since it was so deep. How'd they get in there? You're not sure, but you just know it.

★on the fifth week your owners told you about how they had bought multiple sheep, and goats. One male for each group. Watching the loading truck approach the little barn they were finished building. So that's why it was there, they started construction when you arrived the first week. You helped the other farmhands get them situated, at first they were rowdy and a little aggressive but for some reason calmed down when you approached them. Your colleagues now called you the sheep whisperer. You quickly learned how to shave their wool and milk the goats properly. Sometimes braiding their long hair, you just wish the ram would stop headbutting the nearest male colleague for your attention.

★On your sixth week, you went for a walk in the forest when suddenly a little body of fluffy fur tackled you, growling with it's teeth barred. You looked up to see a Pomeranian hybrid, trying it's best to look intimidating. Their fluffy tail gave them away, it was wagging 100mph. They visibly deflated when you reached up a hand to pet them, letting you for A couple minutes before getting off. Walking back into the woods towards three wolves. Dissapearing with them. Not soon after you found a friendly garden naga. Just lounging on a rock and enjoying the sun. You asked to join and they let you, laying there for a good while until you had to go back to the farm. Noticing they had wrapped their tail around you, oh boy. It'll take a good while to get out. Welp, might as well make yourself comfortable and wait for the dogs to come find you

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

HYBRIDS AND THEIR NAMES:

Week one, cats and dogs;

Brutus, dog hybrid, 18, German Shepard, he/him

Dolly, dog hybrid, 26, doberman, she/her

bladviba, dog hybrid, 25, black Russian terrier, he/him

Molly, dog hybrid, 17, chow chow, she/her

Sweet pea, dog hybrid, 17, samoyed, they/them amab

bubba, dog hybrid, 37, borzoi, he/him

Princess, cat hybrid, 18, ragdoll, she/her

Prince, cat hybrid, 19, Norwegian forest cat, he/him

King, cat hybrid, 27, Khao manee, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Second week, cattle and centaurs;

Miss bené, cow hybrid, 49, white park cattle, she/her

Miss blackberry, cow hybrid, 22, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Polly, cow hybrid, 26, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss frufru, cow hybrid, 28, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Vivian, cow hybrid, 35, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Big daddy, bull hybrid, 52, Aberdeen Angus, he/him

Johnny, bull hybrid, 18, Aberdeen Angus/white park cattle, he/him

Jacqueline, centaur, 19, shire horse, she/her

Timothy, centaur, 21, galineers cob, he/him

maya, centaur, 17, fjord horse, they/them

Casper, centaur, 23, ardennais, he/him

miguel, centaur, 18, Andalusian horse, he/him

harmony, centaur, 25, Breton horse, they/them

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

third week, avians;

Sydney, avian, 22, cockatoo, they/he

Evangeline, avian, 19, peacock, she/her

Gabriel, avian, 20, peacock, he/him

fajarah, avian, 24, indian ring necked parakeet, she/her

Foolish, avian, 26, owl finch, he/him

simon, avian, 28, tyto alba, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fourth week, merfok;

tancho, koi fish merfolk, 19, tancho koi, he/him

kiko, koi fish merfolk, 19, kikokuryu koi, she/her

hime, koi fish merfolk, 19, hirenaga koi, she/her

Tsu, koi fish merfolk, 19, doitsu koi, they/them

koromo, koi fish merfolk, 19, koromo koi, he/him

Mason, lake 'monster' (crocodile), 20, freshwater crocodile, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fifth week, goats and sheep;

Sally, goat, 25, angora goat, she/her

Opal, goat, 24, Tennessee fainting goat, she/her

Sasha, goat, 26, australian cashmere goat, she/her

kim, ram, 23, dutch landrace goat, he/him

Poka, sheep, 19, Valais black nose, they/them

Juniper, sheep, Valais black nose, she/her

violet, sheep, 18, harri, she/her

azucar, sheep, 17, Columbia sheep, she/her

Wehrner, ram, 21, American black belly, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Sixth week, the forest creatures:

roxy, wolf hybrid, 19, grey wolf, she/her

Silas, wolf hybrid, 21, grey wolf, he/him

Milo, wolf hybrid, 20, albino Grey wolf, they/them

Kiki, dog hybrid, 18, Pomeranian, they/them

Coachella, naga, 27, garden snake, they/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

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cantstoptheimagines · 1 year

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Nueva (Muerte | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Series Masterlist

Summary — How she became life and he became death.

Requested by @odditycircus-2002 — Speaking of your Curador fic, may I please request hcs of how Vida and Muerte met and bonded as soulmates in your AU?

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Mentions and light descriptions of death; sort of hurt/comfort; lost memories; new companionship.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 565. ➳ The Reader in this series uses a filler name (Vida, she/her), is represented by a spotted deer, and is the physical manifestation of Life. Meanwhile, Death will be referred to as ‘Muerte’.

Your life began with your death.

Your soul was forfeit upon your father’s brutal killing of a sacred deer. And, rather than repenting for his wrongdoings, he offered you up for sacrifice.

A vague memory of a village leader’s hands tight around your throat while another chanted apologies to the heavens often went through your mind. As did the last earthly connection to your father, who held your sobbing mother in his arms, was his gaze burning into you.

And then, void.

Red eyes. Two sharp blades. A midnight cloak.

Muerte’s tall figure was what greeted you in the afterlife, a place in which you could wander the world unseen by those still living.

His large paw reached out and, from that moment forward, you were his.

“Bienvenida a la eternidad.”

Being the embodiment of life itself was difficult for the first few hundred years, but Muerte was always there for guidance. After a while, however, most of your memories began to fade away, which both frightened and relieved you at the same time.

In your grasp was a bluebell, its stem tightly strung around you. Its petals gently swayed in the breeze. You sat alone on a cliffside that allowed you to overlook a distant town that nestled deep within a valley.

Your eyes trailed over the bluebell, examining it in deep thought. It seemed like it had been hours since Muerte left you there at sunset. Just as the stars began to shine in the dark night, footsteps cut through the dirt, signaling someone slowly climbing up the grassy hillside.

You felt the heavy black cloak you had come to know so well drape carefully over your shoulders. Next to you, Muerte placed his paws on his hips, letting out a deep sigh, “The flower?”

“I feel like someone liked to give me these once,” you muttered.

He hummed, “Tell me.”

You frowned, still looking at the flower for answers, “I can’t.”

Muerte’s eyes softened. He barely offered you a glance out of fear that you would notice his new vulnerability, “It is hard when everything begins to disappear. Immorality provides, but it must also take. It will get easier.”

You nodded. Slowly, you eased the flower to the ground, a violet glow sparkling from your touch. The soil shifted and the bluebell sprouted new roots within seconds, reattaching itself to the dirt, eager to continue with its life.

Your capabilities were still blossoming, but they were growing stronger by the day, “What do you remember?”

Despite continuing to gaze at the town’s distant lights, you could sense how tense Muerte suddenly became. You drew his cloak tighter around you, further shielding yourself from the cool nighttime air.

“A girl,” he whispered, his thoughts seemingly beginning to drift away, “in a red cape.”

“Is she the one who—?”

“No, she wasn’t my end. Not directly,” he shook his head. “I think I was... blamed.”

“Blamed?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“For her death,” he said. “It was someone else who hurt her. He was a woodsman, I remember that. But for some reason, they thought it was me. And so, I was the one who faced punishment.”

“And your name?” you whispered. “I don’t remember mine anymore.”

He shook his head again, “We are the same, you and I. No name, no home, no definitive history. Sólo esta nueva existencia.”

“Only this,” you echoed.

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Nueva — Meaning “new”. ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “Bienvenida a la eternidad…” — “Welcome to eternity…” ➳ “Sólo esta nueva existencia.” — “Only this new existence.”

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geeky-politics-46 · 4 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 - Day 7

Sex Toys with Bucky Barnes

"The Gift"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You give Bucky a gift he never knew he wanted.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, sex toys, homemade porn, dirty talk, pet names, langcorn, reference to oral & vaginal sex, Bucky being a needy boy.

Bucky paced back and forth, trying to avoid staring at the box on the bed. His fingers pulling on his hair and biting at his bottom lip, trying to find a way to direct his attention anywhere else, but his mind kept pulling him back. The ache between his legs was beginning to throb each time he looked at the box & let his thoughts drift back to you.

You had to know what even just your innocent little texts did to him when you had been gone this long. Even just a sweet "miss you so much, Buck" sent his blood straight to his cock. It gets him thinking about how you can be all sugar sweet around everyone else then turn into such a dirty girl the minute you get to your bedroom. Hell you loved nothing more than whispering something filthy to him right before walking in a room with someone else just to get him wound up.

He had no idea what he had unleashed the first time you two started getting a little frisky. He loved how you seemed a little old fashioned when you started dating. How you made him court you made him earn each and every little kiss. By the time you two had gotten to the point of sex being a possibility, he was nervous he would scare you away by being too aggressive. Little did he know what awaited him.

He will never forget the night he found out how bad you really were. You had been dating a couple of weeks and had the compound to yourselves for an evening, so it wasn't surprising when watching a movie devolved into a hot and heavy make-out session. He tried not to let on that you had him hard as a rock. He didn't want to put any pressure on you. Then, as you were adjusting to hook your leg around him, your thigh brushed up against his erection making him moan against your lips. He hoped maybe you hadn't noticed or, at the very least, were going to pretend you didn't feel the massive bulge in his pants.

You pulled back to look in his eyes, and he looked like a deer in headlights. He was terrified you were gonna slap him or never want to see him again. He didn't expect you to let out a dark little chuckle and bite his bottom lip. You sucked his lip into your mouth, then let it go with a wet pop before licking it once. He sat frozen as you moved your lips to whisper in his ear. Your voice dropped an octave as you spoke.

"Well, well, soldier, seems like you're enjoying this, huh? Enjoying having my mouth on you. Have you thought about what else I can do with my mouth?" With that, you sucked his earlobe into your mouth, and he let out a little high-pitched squeal he didn't know he could make.

"Maybe my mouth is a bit too much for now, hmm. Don't want you to blow just yet, Buck. What about my hands? Bet you've thought of them touching you. Stroking you all over."

As you spoke, you moved one hand up to his hair, leaving the other wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you. Accenting the end of each sentence with the particular touch you described.

"Thought about my fingers pulling on your hair." You purred, gripping his soft, short, dark brown hair and giving it a soft tug.

"My nails scraping down your back." You gently pulled your nails in a straight line down his spine, stopping at the base of it.

"My palm sliding up and down your chest", you let your hand circle his waist and slide up under his shirt, pressing your entire hand flat to the center of his strong chest. You could feel his heart pounding. He had his eyes closed and was trying to keep his breathing steady. His nostrils flared. He didn't want to let you know how close you had him to losing all control.

You paused for a moment, lulling him into a trap to make him open his eyes. You kissed his lips softly and sweetly. Innocently. Then, after rubbing your nose against his, you pulled back to see his beautiful blue eyes.

Like a cobra, you struck. Using the hand looped around his neck, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. You rose to your knees, so you were looking down at him and slowly started pulling your hand downward.

A wicked grin on your face as you dragged the next sentence out word by word. You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

".. and I bet that there's something else you've thought about my hands doing, isn't that right, Buck? Bet you've thought about it so much. Bet you've thought about it after every date we've had."

You could feel him inhale sharply as you touched the top of his abdomen. You slowly started to curl your fingers in, leaving just your index finger touching him.

"Maybe you've thought about it when you're in the shower..."

You felt his abs contract under your fingertip.

"I'm sure you've thought about it in bed at night too. I know I have, baby."

Your fingertip hit the top of his jeans, and just for a second, you stopped. Giving him a chance to push you off of him if he didn't want you to go any farther. When all that came from him was a little whimper, you let your fingertip continue over the button & down his fly.

"Bet you've thought about me touching you here. Thought about me touching, and rubbing, and stroking your hard cock. You feel even bigger than I imagined, baby."

After hitting the bottom of his groin with just your fingertip, you turned your hand and gripped him with your whole hand. Starting to massage his entire bulge. A loud moan escaped as he fought the urge to thrust into your hand.

He was now staring at you with his eyes wide & his mouth hanging open. What happened to the sweet shy thing who blushed when he brought you flowers? Here you were a little sexbomb on the verge of making him cum in his pants and you had only just started touching him.

From then on, you just kept surprising him with how dirty you could be. So, really, he shouldn't have been that surprised when he found the naughty little gift you left him when you went on your mission.

It was the first time either of you had to leave since the 2 of you started dating, let alone having sex. You knew the both of you would be missing each other something bad. So the last night you were together there were lots of pics and few little videos. Bucky knew they were mostly for him. You were gonna have your hands full with the mission.

You had awoken something in him that had been asleep since before he became the Winter Soldier. He couldn't get enough of you, of your body. Of your perfect wet little pussy. He loved telling you that too. That was why you got him the gift.

It was a sex toy. A Fleshlight.

He picked up the card and read it again:

Something to play with until you can enjoy the real thing again. I picked the one I thought looked the most like your best girl ;)

XOXO

Your best girl and your girlfriend too

He hadn't dared to open the toy yet. He wanted to, but he wasn't sure he could. His 1940s sensibilities were getting the best of him. He wasn't a prude by any means, but the idea of fucking a plastic toy designed to look like a pussy just seemed so... dirty.

Of course, that was also the appeal, wasn't it? Especially the fact that you had picked one you thought looked like your pussy. His pussy. He was curious if it really did. It was hard to tell from the outer box.

There was no harm in taking a peek, right? You had sent him a message after you knew he had found your gift. Telling him that if he didn't want to use it or it weirded him out that he didn't have to use it or even keep it.

He would just have a look and then put it away. Figure out his feelings a bit more before he decided what to do. He at least had to know if it did look like you. Although he would put money that it wouldn't be as perfect as yours. Nothing would ever be as perfect to him as your pussy.

He double-checked to make sure his door was locked. Approaching the box and tentatively picking it up. He looked over the images on the outside and felt himself cringe. It felt like the naked woman on the box was judging him. She looked nothing like you and did absolutely nothing for him. He quickly unsealed and opened the box, and pulled out the toy wrapped in tissue paper. Not sure if he wanted to unwrap just the end or the whole toy.

He decided to go right for what had him the most curious. The soft, skin colored silicone slowly coming in to view. He let the fingers of his right hand stroke the edge of the silicone. To his surprise, it did feel rather nice under his touch. Now, he was ready to reveal the toy fully. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away the last bit of tissue. A moan pulling deep in his throat.

Oh fuck, it did look like your pussy. His pussy. His mouth watered and his pants immediately got tight. He couldn't tear his eyes off of it now. He let his thumb stroke over the fake clit on the toy and swore he could almost hear you shudder. Then he used his index and middle finger to trace the plump labia of the toy and momentarily stretch the hole.

He was right, it was nowhere close to as perfect as your juicy pussy, but it was much more tempting than he could ever have thought possible. He wanted to lick it like he would lick you, and he wanted to fuck it like he would fuck you. Was he really going to do this? He picked up your note and read it one more time, imagining the look on your face and the things you would say to him if you were here watching him.

Yep. He was really going to do this.

He quickly stuffed the paper wrapping in the box and threw the box under his bed. Pulling the blankets back on his bed and dropping the toy there. Quickly opening his nightstand and fishing for the bottle of lube. Throwing his shirt and jeans off as fast as he could before moving to lay in the very middle of the bed. That way, he could smell your pillow and pretend you were really there with him.

The toy momentarily forgotten as he began scrolling through the various naughty photos and videos he had of you. Starting to palm and rub at his hard cock through his underwear. He could practically hear you saying how much you loved seeing him in his just his boxer briefs. You always said his cock looked incredible straining against the tight fabric. How they hugged his thighs and his ass perfectly. That you never thought a guy in his underwear could get you that wet.

Fuck you made him feel so good. He forgot all the things he hated about his body when you touched and praised him. You made him feel sexy. You made him want to show off for you. Making a very clear point of saying how all these photos and videos weren't just for him. Maybe he would send you a picture when he was done?

He stopped at a video clip where you were sitting between his legs, slowly taking off your bra and panties. Stopping to rub at him a few times or shake your tits at him. He heard his own voice telling you to pull at your nipples. His cock twitched at the moan that fell from your lips. He knew what was coming next, so he quickly set the phone down reaching for the lube and the pussy toy.

He flipped the cap up on the lube and let some of the slick clear liquid coat the pads of his fingers just in time to hear himself tell you to take off your panties and show him your pussy. To show him his pussy and how wet you were for him. As you did exactly what he told you to in the video, he let his lube slicked fingers start to pet and stroke the outer lips of the toy. His long middle finger running a small circle around the hole, barely dipping inside before sliding back out and around.

Once the toy was nice and slick, just like your cunt now on display in the video, he set both it and his phone down just long enough to pull his underwear off. He gasped as he felt the cool air of the room make contact with his leaking tip. He was wetter than he thought he was, clearly underestimating his own need.

With his phone in one hand and the toy in the other, he waited until he heard his own voice in the video again. Waiting until he told you to come and rub your pretty pussy all over his cock. To get him nice and wet while you made your little pussy feel good.

The next video was a close up of his cock slotted between your pussy lips as you slid yourself back and forth against his shaft. He started to copy your motions in real time, letting the toy slide against his cock in time with your movements. A needy little moan falling from his lips when the toy caressed the ridge under the head of his cock.

His hips unexpectedly bucking a couple of times when he heard your whimpers in the video. If he closed his eyes, he would never think that it was a toy in his hand and not the real thing. It still wasn't you, nothing would ever feel as good as you, but fuck him it still felt so good.

He couldn't hold himself back much longer, so he flicked to the video of his cock slowly sliding in and out of you cunt. He could never get over how incredible you looked stretched around his length, how his cock glistened with you slick everytime he pulled back out. Your swollen clit front and center and just begging for attention.

He pulled his attention back to the toy in his hand. Angling it so his tip pressed against the hole of the toy. Adding just enough pressure to feel it start to stretch around his thick leaking head, just like your pussy would. A gasp pulled from his lips as the toy slowly engulfed his tip. Pulling it back up before pushing it down just a little more.

Repeating the same action over and over. Pushing down so the toy swallowed another inch of his cock, then pulling all the way up. Them pushing back down again until he had finally bottomed out. The video on his phone was momentarily forgotten. It felt incredible. So tight and snug and wet around his aching cock.

His hips acting on their own as he started rutting into the toy. Whimpering as it seemed to suck his cock back in. He fought the urge to start frantically fucking the toy. As good as it felt, and holy fuck did it feel good, he still wanted to fantasize it was your cunt he was fucking.

He let his eyes close again with his cock fully sheathed in the fake pussy. Quickly rolling onto his side and burying his face in your pillow as his hips started to thrust hard and fast. Moaning as your smell filled his nostrils. Replaying all the mornings you had woken up together only to have innocent spooning turn into fucking.

Bucky let himself start to whimper little praises as if you were really there. His vibranium hand grabbed at the blankets and clamped around your pillow. Pulling them closer to him. His mind turned to mush as the toy practically sucked the life out of him.

If he focused, he could almost hear you responding to him. Keening at both his praises and degradation. Saying filthy things right back to him.

“Fuck! Feels so good, baby. Always take my cock so fucking well. Can't wait to have you back in my arms. Can't wait to fuck you for real the second you are home. Miss you so much.”

He felt the heat of his climax building and his balls pulling tighter. Whimpering as he bit your pillow. Imagining he was biting and marking the soft, warm flesh on your neck. His flesh starting to tingle, and sweat starting to form on his brow. His hips thrusting so hard and fast the mattress was creaking. His needy groans and the wet suction of toy echoing through the room.

“Gonna cum, babydoll. Fuck, gonna cum so hard for you!”

Bucky thought his soul might actually leave his body with how hard he came. Spurt after spurt of his warm release filling the toy. A faint thought in the back of his mind about the possibility the toy might start to overflow.

Slowly his orgasm faded to electric aftershocks of pleasure. His breath still coming in gasps. His cock starting to soften, still nestled in the warm silicone that suddenly felt nowhere near as comforting as being inside of you. Even if it could give him an incredible orgasm, he was well aware that it wouldn't provide the loving and intimate aftercare that you always gave him. Snuggling his face into your pillow once again, he smiled as he thought about when he would get to hold you in post-coital bliss again.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked back to where he had dropped his phone earlier. The video had ended. Frozen on a closeup of your face with the most wicked smile on your face and the mischievous twinkle in your eyes, he knew so well. He wondered if you were missing him.

He hopes you are missing him, because fuck is he missing you; and your gift only made him miss you more. He was sure he was addicted to you.

After going to shower and cleaning himself up, along with cleaning the toy, he noticed the light on his phone blinking. Reaching for it once he was settled back down in bed. Frankly, he felt exhausted after trying out your present. Flicking on the screen, he saw that there was a new text message. It was from you. It was an emoji of a smiling Devil followed only by three words.

Enjoying your gift?

--------------------------------

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multifandomsimagine · 11 months

Text

Imagine being el Saguaro's daughter and dating the Wolf

Walking down the stairs, you smile when you spot The Wolf waiting for you at the bottom. Though he is wearing his sunglasses, you can tell he is checking you out. You could feel the weight of his gaze and you've dated for too long for you to not be used to it by now. His hand is outstretched for you to take once you reach the bottom of the stairs.

You take it and he pulls you into his chest; his calloused hands resting at your waist, thumbs rubbing circles as he tells you, "te ves hermosa," before kissing you softly. A welcome contrast; a hardened assassin yet gentle in the way he touches you. The same hands that kill a man without much effort are careful in handling you, like fragile glass. The dark brown eyes that can emotionlessly hold the dying gaze of the person they killed stare at you with such adoration and revere that it's hard to believe they can come from the same person.

He's the first to pull away though he is reluctant to. He would be more than content to spend the day kissing you but he knows how long you've been waiting for a day out with him. "Are you ready to go?"

You nod. "I just need to tell my father that I'm going out." You take his hand and begin leading him to the dining room where you know your father is at.

"Buenos dias, pa." You drop the Wolf's hand to head over to your father. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you press a kiss to his cheek and you could feel him grinning.

El Saguaro turns his head to give you his own kiss. "Hola, mija."

"We're about to head out." You nod to your boyfriend who is waiting at the end of the table. Taking off his hat, he gives his boss a nod of hello which is returned.

"You're not going to eat breakfast?" Your father asks you, gesturing to your regular seat at the dining room table where a plate, a set of cutlery, and a glass cup have been set out for you.

You shake your head. "We haven't spent much time together so we're going out to eat."

Your dad nods, approving of the idea. He kisses your cheek once again. "Have fun." He tells you with a smile. He looks at his right-hand man and gives him a hard stare. "Cuidala." The rest of the sentence is left unspoken - If anything happens to her - but it's clear for the Wolf to understand and he nods his understanding. Message received.

"Te veo más tarde, pa."

#bullet train x reader #bullet train imagine #bullet train imagines #the wolf x reader #the wolf imagine #the wolf imagines #yoshino writes imagines

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dylobilysmomg · 4 months

Text

Motel Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.

“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.

The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”

Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.

“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.

“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.

Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.

“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.

“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.

Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.

I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.

“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.

“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.

“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.

“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.

“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.

“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.

I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.

“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.

After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.

It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.

“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.

I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.

Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.

The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.

I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.

“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%

He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.

I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.

“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.

We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.

I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.

“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?

“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.

“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.

He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.

“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.

“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.

“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.

He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.

Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.

I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”

Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.

I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.

“I could never hate you, baby.”

Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.

I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.

“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.

Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.

Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.

My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.

He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.

“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.

Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.

“Say it again.”

“Stiles.”

“Again.”

“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”

“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.

“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”

“Then do it.”

I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.

He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.

Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.

He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?

When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.

As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.

It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.

“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.

“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.

!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!

“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.

I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.

𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨

𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒

#dylan obrien #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien masterlist #ponyboi

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months

Text

a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

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masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more.

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.”

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.”

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could.

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?”

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra.

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs.

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone.

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments.

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned.

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection.

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.”

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement.

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal.

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

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