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#and i was like holy fuck??? these aren’t painful??????? jeans??!?
fridayiminlovemp3 · 10 months
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shout out to this screenshot i found from 2016
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hammity-hammer · 9 months
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steve harrington realizing that he’s got no purpose if he’s not protecting the people he loves from outer-dimensional beings, and has a minor (read: major) spiral about it post-vecna & the party fixing everything. he’s just a regular ole 20 something with no purpose— his friends are all in school, except eddie, who managed to pick up an apprenticeship as an electrician; putting all of that wire knowledge to use (just not in cars, he hasn’t hotwired one since 1986 and he’d like to keep it that way si vous plais) and making the rich houses have even cooler guts than they deserve.
the kids end up graduating (their first tries) and heading as one little pack to the same school (don’t ask me which, i’m a college drop out) and steve, eddie, and rob end up staying just outside of indy. rob finished school early, because of course she did, and she found that she may have a knack for hanging around high schoolers, so why not teach them how to become polyglots like she is?
steve still doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing— he bartends at a little club in the gayborhood, because they went there so often that the bartenders just kind of pushed him into it, and don’t get him wrong— mixing drinks and flirting all night is super fun, but it also… is kind of depressing? even if he gets to be around people like him and see them happy— he knows that a lot of alcohol and drugs causes that happiness and he wants so badly for his people to be out and proud and not murdered for it. but he can’t do that,, so he does the next best thing.
he talks with one of the regulars, andy, who owns a little tattoo shop on the corner, and andy invites him to come check it out. so he does the next day he’s free, and holy fucking christ. tattoos aren’t his thing— at least not on himself, but on other people they’re gorgeous. and they’re painful, but you’re turning the pain into art and you get to live with it in your skin and look at it and think about the fact that you’re here and you made it and you fucking survived. and people purposefully put scars into their bodies? and not in the i-battled-literal-other-dimensional-beings-and-won kind of way, or the i-battled-my-personal-demons-and-won kind of way, which both are things he’s dealt with so fucking intimately— but in the i-will-decorate-this-flesh-prison-and-make-it-a-castle kind of way, and that’s fucking beautiful. queer people taking their bodies and making them into art with ink and hot metal and needles and the love that they have for each other and the passion and the fucking spite at the world that keeps them going and making their presences KNOWN.
and maybe he gets some piercings while he’s there— it’s fascinating and feels so weird and freeing when the needle punctures his flesh and the jewelry goes in— and now he’s got a shiny little ring hanging through his earlobe; his nostril; his lip.
he learns that piercings take time and effort and care and that he has to treat himself with love to be able to heal— and that he is deserving of that love and care and dedication, especially from himself.
he keeps going back, maybe not always to get stabbed, but to watch others have it done. to see how different people’s anatomy takes different piercings, how he can’t have a piercing through his cheeks because he bites them too much when he’s anxious, but the girl that just left got both of hers done and they looked good. they fit her face, like little shiny dimples.
eventually, the piercer, killie, asks steve when he’s going to help them with their needles and their piercings— and he doesn’t know how to react because he hadn’t even thought about it and yet… maybe he could help other people fall in love with themselves and their bodies and help turn them into art one day
maybe he could be a pretty boy with his scars and his metal and his missing chunks and his polos and his jeans and his sneakers.
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painsandconfusion · 1 year
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Found
Shelter - Part 1
(tw: zombies, gore, machete, rifle, familial death mention, exposed bone, blood, murder mention, eaten alive mention, manhandling, zip ties, shackle, chain, claustrophobia trigger)
[Masterpost | Next]
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Icy air ripped down Nisha’s throat, threatening to cave it in - but she couldn’t just stop fucking breathing, now could she?
Bummer.
Couldn’t stop running either, the damn- FUCK FUCK FUCK SHHHHHIITTTTT SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK THAT HURT SONOFABITCH-
Nisha’s groan turned more into a growl in her breathlessness, ice still slipping under her knees, wrapped hands, and tingling feet. She grit her teeth, shoving herself back up.
Her right leg didn’t particularly approve of that course of action, trying to buckle limp beneath her.
You piece of shit, I MADE you, now WORK.
She forced it to stay straight, weight limping onto it.
Footsteps.
The rapidly crunching snow was getting closer, she could fucking swear. Only her frantic heartbeat out paced the monster’s gait as it slammed against her ribs and the inside of her skull.
Bleary eyes chanced a glance backwards as she forced herself into a lopsided jog again, ignoring the blood that leaked into her jeans. 
They were close.
Too fucking close - like 30 yards at best.
Fuck-
They were fast. 
Not quite as fast as her, but those fuckers didn’t NEED to breathe. Their muscles didn’t give up. They didn’t care if their flesh was ripped off the bone.
They just kept going.
So fucking unfair-
Her leg crumpled under her, sending her sprawling into the rosethorns bramble and shallow, sloppy snow. 
“Fffuck-”
Fuck it. Plan A = Failed. 
She tugged off her pack, unstrapping it as her eyes flicked desperately from the drawstring to the two runners coming for her. Her hands were trembling so hard, she couldn’t get her fingers into the knot. Whether that was from the cold, the exertion, or just blind fear, she didn’t want to know.
We’re going with cold. Yeahhhhhh - not scared, it’s fine. It’s fine. fuckING OPEN UP, YOU PIECE OF SH- thank you-
She ripped open the bag just in time for the zombie ass bitches to be a few strides away.
Numb hands gripped the handle of her machete as the rotting wretches took their last bounding strides toward her.
Son of a BITCH YOU AREN’T ALLOWED TO DIVE OR JUMP OR SHIT - WHY CAN’T YOU BE LIKE MOVIE ZOMBIES THAT JUST FUCKING WADDLE?!?!?!
She slashed wildly at them, taking off one of their arms just below the elbow. It stumbled from the blow, slipping on the ice.
Nice. ~Nice~ ice. Friendly ice. I forgive you for fucking my ankle up now.
The second lunged at her, and the blood-spattered blade swung forward without her direction, obeying pure fear and adrenaline as it managed to miss its arm and slash almost all the way through its neck.
Fuck fuck fuck close-
It stumbled back, and she stepped forward after it, advancing as it moved. It tried to swipe at her again, but she smacked off its hand, bringing the blade down again - this time clean through the vertebrae at the neck.
The mangled, rotting thing fell to the ground, twitching and writhing. Dying.
Her breaths puffed white into the crisp air, almost blurring her view of it. I killed one. I killed a RUNNER - holy shi-!?
Her thoughts cut off with a scream as the second slammed into her. Her feet slipped and slid uselessly on the ice until it cracked against her hip and elbow, slamming jarring, ripping pain up through her bones at the impact.
Ffff-f-fucking iceeeeeee - I d-on't forgive you again-
FUCK SHIT NOW ISN’T THE TIME TO-
Nisha yelped as the runner crawled back up to her, skittering wildly through the snow.
She scrabbled backwards, trying to find the mache-fuck where did I drop it!??!
Nisha kicked frantically at the creature, jerking her boots back as its teeth snapped and gnashed at her. 
This is it - fuck I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna die-
Her scream ripped up through the trees as its hand drug down her leg, shredding the denim with sharp shards of bone, trying to still her kicking and drag her closer.
Nisha squeezed her eyes shut, teeth grit and kicking blindly up at the thing. As if that could help her.
A burst of gunpowder rang through her ears and sent distant birds flying. Blood and brains and goop splattered onto her face as the runner dropped onto her, muscles still squirming as it pinned her down with it’s dead weight.
Eyes were opening the fuck up again. Nisha shoved and kicked and scrabbled away from it, shallow, frantic breaths burning down her throat as she stared around the landscape to figure out what the fuck just happened-
A shotgun cocked, empty shell hitting the snow as a man stepped into view. Black shaggy hair and dark grey eyes. He took a step Closer.
His eyes narrowed, barrel pointed vaguely at her. “Did it get you?”
Nisha shoved herself a little further away. “..n-no. No - I think just the boot..-” She sat up fully, breaths still refusing to get under control. She tugged up the fabric of her jeans, checking the bite marks. “..no - didn’t get through the rubber. No bites.”
His eyes narrowed a little further, but he set the rifle back to default and flicked the safety on. He stepped up to her, holding out a hand. “Okay - c’mon - there’s more coming this way.”
“...fuck.” she glanced down the trail she’d run, scanning the trees for any sign of movement. Nisha hummed a groan - for distaste and agreement - then gave him her hand, wincing a squeak as he pulled her to her feet.
The man looked down over her leg. Some blood was seeping into the denim where its not-claws had bit into her. “......you…sure you’re good to walk?”
…shit shit shit he’s gonna leave me if I say no, isn’t he-
Nisha gave him a tight-lipped smile. Some kind of reassurance. “Mhm.” Well that came out squeaker than I was hoping…
The man frowned, stepping back. “Alrightyyyyyyy. Let’s go, then.”
He took a step toward the way he apparently had come, glancing back to make sure she was following.
Nisha  shouldered her pack and took a limping step after him, scooping up a handful of snow. She scrubbed it against her face, ridding her skin of the blood and brain and whatever the fuck else had just splattered on her. 
Even after dropping the snow again, her pace was slow. Hobbled.
The man sighed, stepping back up to her. He handed her the rifle, barely waiting for her to take it before scooping her up and carrying her. 
Much faster.
Nisha squeaked a little, tensing. “...uhh……th..ank you.”
He hummed in response, eyes ahead as they moved through the snow, back down the path. “My name’s Corvid. What’s yours?”
She kept a good grip on the rifle, visualizing him slipping on the ice, dropping her, and it accidentally going off- hhhhh-
“..Nisha.”
Corvin nodded down to her. “Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
She almost smiled at that. Almost. “Yeah..same.”
He hesitated, taking a few long moments of snow crunching and silence to eventually say “...I have a bunker. Cold war shit? I don’t know, I found it and…it’s nice, and those bitches can’t get through the blast doors.”
“Oh..” Was that…..an offer…???
He sighed. “You can stay there tonight or whatever - until you’re healed enough to keep going.”
Nisha stared up at this man - not….entirely sure she could trust him?
But what was she going to do? Sit in the snow and wait for the rest of the runners - or heck, even walkers - to show up and rip her apart?
She gave a hesitant nod. “..that would be….really really good.” Pause. “....thank you.”
Corvid flashed a smile down to her. “It’ll be good - I have the finest entertainment. Vintage chutes and ladders board. Very high quality shit.”
She did smirk at that. “Haven’t played that since I was a kid. Though I’ve played so much solitaire lately I think anything else would be a welcome change.” 
“Ooooo you got a deck of cards?” He seemed to have relaxed a lot. Guard down. “Been a minute since I found any of those.”
Nisha nodded. “They’re pretty worn, but yeah. They keep me company.”
Corvid frowned. “...all on your own, then?”
The smile dripped away. “..yeah. My mom got bit last year. It’s just been me since then.”
“..I’m sorry to hear that.”
She hummed, throat clearing before any emotions could deign to creep into her voice. “How about you?”
He shrugged softly. “I never was able to find my friends after this shit broke out. Been on my own ever since.” 
..that must suck. 12 years??? Alone?? Fuck, that sound wretched.
“..I’m sorry, that sounds…..bad.”
He sputtered a laugh. “I mean yeah, it’s not exactly a spa trip, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t have been even with those dicks with me. So I’m not complaining too much.”
Nisha hummed in agreement. “The whole world’s fucked. Makes sense.”
She could hear a river rushing nearby as he set her on her feet again - a wash of empty hissing sound. She gripped his shoulder for support as she found her balance, then handed him the rifle ag-
Nnnnnope he’s already stepped away.
She clutched it a little closer, frowning as he reached into the brush, pulling at a bush-
Oh shit, a SECRET trap door….well that’s kinda cool…
The door pulled up, sticks and brush and leaves coming up with it and resting against a tree trunk. 
Stairs lie beneath it, descending into darkness.
Corvid took a step down, bracing the door as he held a hand out to her. “Cmon - it’s not this sketchy inside, I promise.”
Nisha frowned over it, taking a wincing step forward. Her eyes darted back the way they came. ..not like I have a choice here. So….suuuuuuurrreeeeeeeeeee let’s just go down into the very reinforced and isolated space with the strange man. That sounds like a great idea.
She stared at his hand a good couple seconds before taking it with a soft “thanks”. She stepped - a little shakily - onto the first stair.
Another.
Then another.
Down down down.
Darker with each step.
Nisha swallowed thickly, holding the rifle close as she continued down even after he closed the door, letting them into darkness. This is stupid. I’m being stupid. I’m just on edge from the fuckin zombies, this is fine.
But the stupid alarm bells wouldn’t quit going off in her head.
Then again…they never really did, nowadays.
“Okay, careful, there’s a-” A thonk echoed in the small space as she hit the bottom of the stairs a little sooner than expected, stumbling into the wall. 
“...you found it.” There was a smirk in his voice.
Warm hands slipped around her waist, guiding her to the side as he stepped around her. Her skin crawled at the touch, but she stepped gratefully out of the way, letting him blindly find what apparently sounded like a lock (???) with a key. Scraping, then clicking, then turning…something?? Ambient metal noises, Nisha doesn’t fucking know, stop asking her what they are.
The door pulled open, and she was washed in a wave of warmth. It tangled through her clothes and pressed against her shuddering skin, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. “...you…….do..do you have heat??”
Corvid chuckled, stepping away. Lights flickered on, uncovering the compact but alarmingly pristine bomb shelter. Cabinets, counter, shelves full of canned food and bags of what she assumed to be rice, shower, toilet - presumably more around the curve of the wall. Likely a bedroom area??
“Toldja it was nice.”
She stepped inside, staring around in wonder as he pulled the thick iron door closed behind her and rolled the latch into place - a giant bolt attached to a wheel on a gear. Heavy duty.
“...h….how..???”
He shrugged, leaning against the door. “River nearby. Hydropower and wind energy. I make all my own electricity and store the excess in batteries. Works well.”
She stepped further into the space, still gaping around at the…well….everything??
“....holy shit-”
Corvid laughed again, kicking off his shoes. “I have hot water, too. It’s only as clean as the river is, but it’s pretty clear. I purify it for drinking water of course. But - point is - if you wanna take a hot shower, now’s the time.”
She turns to blink at him. “...wait what - seriously???”
He rolled his eyes, amused. “For sure, go for it. I had a roommate for a minute before he…” He trailed off, a frown shadowing his eyes. He turned to grab a can off the shelf. “..anyways..he’s not…around anymore - think he was about your size, so I’ll set a change of dry clothes out for you. Might as well wash yours too while you’re here. Not like I’m gonna run out of water or something.”
Nisha sagged in relief, crouching to unlace her shoes, too. Matching him. “That…thank you - seriously, thank you.” 
He turned a warm smile to her. “Not a problem - it’s just nice to have company for a little while.”
He set the jar near the stove and moved to fill a pot with water from a pitcher in the fridge. He set that on the stove too, then turned the burner on. “I’ll show you where things are and can get started on supper while you’re cleaning up.”
She couldn’t help but melt a little. The cold had long seeped into her bones and she was grimey…well….everywhere. A shower didn’t seem like mana from heaven right now, it seemed like a fucking 5-course Michelin-star restaurant from heaven. With wine. “That sounds so good, thank you.”
Corvid laughed a little, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hinge of the door. He nodded for her to follow as he slipped down the hall, patting at things as he went. “Toilet here - sorry it’s a little exposed, we work with with we got - shower here-” He pulled back the curtain. “Use whatever soap, I really don’t care, I just scavenge what I can for that.” He kept talking as he rummaged through the first drawer across from the shower, pulling out a t-shirt, boxers, and cargo pants. “I thiiiiink these should fit you? I dunno, good enough for now.” He snagged a folded towel off the shelf and set the clothes on top of it, holding out the stack for her. “I’m gonna assume you’re not vegetarian or something?”
She shook her head, taking the clothes happily. They’re so fucking clean - how are they so clean- “Nope, I’m good with literally anything you have.”
Corvid grinned, skipping back around to the kitchenette. “Cool - I’m gonna make the shittiest stirfry you’ve ever had.” 
She laughed a little, setting her pack to the side and stepping into the shower and turning on the water. …he said it would be h-OH FUCK YUP THATS WARM- “As long as it’s food, it’s probably gonna be the best shit I’ve had in years.” She stripped off her blood, muck, and grime covered clothes and stepped into the stream. 
Shiiitttttttttttt that feels good- Nisha could feel her muscles unwinding under the heat, skin then flesh then bone gradually coming back up to temp over the next ten minutes or so - she was too afraid to waste more electricity than that. She scrubbed and washed and literally even conditioned - Who the fuck has conditioner out here???? She wasn’t going to question it too much, she was too busy enjoying this.
By the time Nisha got done, dried off, and re-dressed into the warm, dry clothes, the whole shelter was warm with garlic, soy sauce, and goodness knows what else. 
She stepped out of the little space, looking over Corvid stirring everything in a large pot - frying a little inefficiently, but fucking good enough. Not like anyone had a wok in a space this small, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to complain. 
He turned a bouncy smile to her - she hadn’t even realized he’d been humming softly until he stopped. “Feeling a little better?”
“Definitely.” Nisha stepped closer, still scrubbing at her wet hair with the towel. She peeked around him into the pot. “What all’s in that?” 
He shrugged, poking at the steaming rice. “Rice, a couple kinds of meat, canned veggies from last Summer - I have a garden and can everything I can.”
“Well it looks fucking fantastic.” 
His smile warmed. “Sure hope it tastes that way.” He nodded to a bin behind her. “You can toss the towel and old clothes in there. I’ll wash them in a bit.”
Nisha murmured a quick “got it,” before turning to it and dumping everything inside.
Corvid dumped a few scoops of the stirfry into bowls and stepped through a cut out of the wall to the part she assumed was a sleeping space. She followed, a little surprised to find a small living room and dining room area. Cramped, sure, but still nice. “...shit, how much do you have going on here??” 
He set the bowls down on the table, putting forks next to them. “More than enough.”
Nisha glanced around, looking for the bedroo- Oh, there,
She poked her head into the next room over to see where the b-...
Her mind cluttered to a stop as her eyes fell on a mostly empty room. There was another past it with a bit of bed showing through the door, but the space between them was…almost nothing but air.
Just the chain on the ground, drilled into the wall. The single shackle pristine as the rest of the bunker.
“I got the TV set up t..-“ Corvid’s sentence trailed to a stop as he saw her looking through the doorway.
“Hm.” He abandoned the food, taking a step closer to her, smile fading. “I was hoping we’d at least get through supper before you saw that.”
Nisha turned back to him, much paler now. Her eyes darted to the gap in the wall that would lead her to the outside door.
“…what is that for?” Her voice sounded so much more confident than she felt.
He shrugged, hands slipping into his pockets. “Toys.”
Nisha stepped toward the door, ready to break for it once she was p-
He stepped to the side, blocking her path with a soft smirk.
Nisha’s breath stuttered to a stop as her feet sent her back a few stumbling steps back toward the empty room. Through the frame.
“…I can..I’ll just go.”
His smile grew a little as he took a step closer, forcing her further back toward the chain. “But you’re hurt. What kind of man would that make me?”
Her stomach squirmed as she shied further away form his advance. “I…I’ll be fine, jus-“
“You’re not leaving, Nisha.” Another step. Into the room with her.
She made a break for it, trying to shove past him. She threw her elbow up at his face to knock him out of the way, but irongripped fingers bit down into her arm, shoving her back.
In a few moments of scrambling and thrashing - a spattering of yelps and screams that echoed in the small space - she was on her stomach, arm wrenched tight behind her back, and Corvid’s knee bruising into her spine. Her breaths creaked against ribs, shallow and tight. “Gggfetoff me-“
The chain clattered across the ground toward her, pulled by limp and bored fingers.
Icy metal bruised and cut against her leg as she kicked at it, but it clamped around her ankle all the same, pinching skin in the hinge and ripping a scream from her mouth. 
“Just hold still and it won’t hurt so much,” he muttered, gripping her other arm and wrenching it behind her back as well.
Wrists shoved against each other, shoulders grinding in their sockets as she writhed against the cement in a pathetic attempt to pull away. “Ss-stop! Just STOP!” 
A hand clamped down over her mouth, silencing the scream that started to rip up her throat. “Stop it. This place isn’t fucking soundproof, you’re going to call them here.”
She only froze a moment before thrashing her head back and forth, another scream muffled by his hand, but stubbornly ringing through. Let me go, BITCH, and this won’t be a problem for you anymore.
His grip tightened, mouth pressing to her ear to growl out, “If you call them here, I will break you fucking legs, throw you outside, and listen to them rip you apart.”
The anger running through her cooled to icy fear, dripping through her veins and freezing her in place. 
The screams petered out to desperate, silent pants of breath.
“Thank you.” Thin plastic tickled against her skin before snaring tight around her wrists, zip tie keeping them snugly together.
He finally pulled off of her, letting her shove and skitter against the wall, kicking herself up to sitting. Nisha glared desperately at him, terror softening the rage far too much. The fear that had splattered down her temple didn’t help.
“Wh-what are you DOING!?” She squirmed further back as he took a step closer, desperately trying to melt through the wall and away from him.
He shrugged, crouching down in front of her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Nisha shoved a kick in his direction - more a warning for him to stay back than an actual attack. It neatly missed him, barely falling short. He seems amused by it, though, snorting lightly as he watched her bare heel hit the ground.
“Y-ou can’t just do this!! How much has this shit fucked you up!?!?”
He laughed softly, reaching for the leg that she quickly retracted again. “Honey, I was doing this long before the outbreak. I just don’t have to deal with feds now.”
She stared, searching his face for any trace of a lie.
She didn’t find one.
“..y…you can’t just…keep people??”
“I’m gonna do a lot more than keep you. Besides,” he stood again, wandering back toward the table, “Finders keepers.”
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[Masterpost | Next]
(tags: @wormwriting @happy-little-sadist @cursedscribbles @a-whumped-tea @mirasorastone @michaeltalks @meowsika @shywhumpauthor @whumpasaurus101 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @paleassprince @heavenly-whumper)
New series new tag list, so I just took a shot in the dark as to who I should add. Lmk if you want to be added or removed!
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iguessitsjustme · 1 year
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The Warp Effect Ep 9 Thoughts
Actually this gets long so under a cut:
-Alright back to live-blogging. I did also catch up on H5 and finish Individual Circumstances but I knew I wouldn’t have that much to say about those shows so I didn’t liveblog them. But I’m betting I won’t be able to shut up during The Warp Effect. Something about GMMTV shows activates the “never shutting up” part of my brain I guess. (To be fair, I do never shut up in my real life either)
-Does anyone else feel a sense of calm whenever you hear that “Raikantopini” at the beginning of shows? I’ve been watching BL for -holy shit - a few years now, and just hearing that just makes me thing “okay I’m home and I’m safe and all is good.” No? Just me?
-Oh we’re starting the preview with Biew. Ew. She can get lost. Hate her. 
-I love the representation in this show. It’s so very queer.
-Every time I start this show I wonder how the hell it’s gonna end. How can they wrap this up?
-Don’t forget to get tested frequently if you sleep around a lot. And use protection. Just a friendly reminder. 
-Oh Ew. Oh precious baby. Someone give him a hug. OH POOR NIM. Bew sucks. Army pounced on the opportunity to help raise that baby though and they aren’t even friends. Ffs Bew really fucked Nim over. I hope Bew never becomes a mother. 
-This show has such beautiful messages wrapped up in the most bizarre packaging.
-This smoker is an asshole. Ice is gonna get his ass beat though. 
-Have I ever mentioned how much I fucking love Mollie?
-I also love Jean.
-“Kim is carrying something heavier than you are.” Yeah I love Alex too.
-Okay okay Army and Nim would make weirdly great parents. And now I want a show of them raising that child. 
-Oh this is not gonna end well with Army and Joe. Someone is gonna see them. Oh boy oh no. SIR YOU PUT THAT CAMERA AWAY BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS
-KISS. KISS. MOLLIE AND NIM KISS. DO IT. DO IT. KISS. YEEEEESSSSSSSSS. 
-Lmao Nim solved her own damn issue. Alex didn’t do shit. Love that. 
-I didn’t expect to get this emotional over Rose and Jedi. Look at those sweeties. Love them.
-Now just how tall is that boy? Tony was towering over those girls. 
-Also I love Kat. 
-If any other show tried to have half as many messages as The Warp Effect, those shows would fail. Miserably. But it’s working in this show. Because all of the messages have a similar theme and are all related to sex. And it’s working weirdly well. Who would have guessed? Not me that’s for sure. 
-Ice and Alex ARE related. Look at Ice coming around to support his girlfriend. Honestly, he just needed some processing time and advice. 
-Whyyyyy is this show so fucking good like what the shit is this?
-What in the fuck was that preview? I’d like a refund please. The next episode looks far too painful to exist. Nope I’m currently blocking it from my memory
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avintagekiss24 · 3 years
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—belated; bucky barnes
pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader
word count: 4738
warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings
squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge
request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain
author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)
gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics
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James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.
One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.
Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.
Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.
After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.
All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.
The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?
Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.
He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.
Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.
Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.
“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”
His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.
Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.
Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.
You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”
“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”
“I’m annoyed.”
“Well, duh. Why?”
He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”
So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.
The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.
Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”
“Not true.”
“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”
“How is that my fault?”
You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”
“I have to work. You know that.”
“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”
He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.
And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.
But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.
You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.
Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”
He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.
Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.
The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.
“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”
Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”
A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”
The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.
Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.
You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”
“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”
A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.
“That requires an answer, honey.”
The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”
He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”
Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.
The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.
“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”
He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.
Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.
“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.
When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.
A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”
He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.
“I don’t think—“
“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”
You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.
If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.
Well, you like being his prey.
Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.
The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.
Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”
That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.
Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.
“Lean forward, kitten.”
Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.
He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.
There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.
Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.
You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.
Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.
He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.
You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.
Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”
Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.
“You want me to fuck you, girl?”
The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”
That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.
You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.
Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.
The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.
“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.
He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.
It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.
You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.
Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.
He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.
“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”
The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.
“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.
You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”
He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.
He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.
Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.
The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.
Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.
Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.
It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.
He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.
You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.
Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.
He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.
Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.
You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.
“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”
So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.
“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.
You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”
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letterstotheflre · 3 years
Text
my drug is my baby
summary: sirius is glad he was patient enough with you and takes part of what he has been craving most
warnings: daddy kink, a smidge of religious references, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering and oral sex (fem receiver), innocence/corruption kink
word count: 3.2k
a/n: i kinda hate this now but i think it’s because i read it too many times, idk || i think it's a universal experience to not being able to cum from your own fingers... right?? and we all know that sirius has a crying kink... also i think it’s so hot when they make you thank them for letting you cum, sue me!!
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Sirius Black liked to believe he was a patient man when he needed to be.
He was known for being reckless, always jumping into the next adventure without much thought, ready to follow James wherever he went. Most of the time he spoke without thinking, especially if he knew his comments would make his parents red with rage. Sometimes he didn’t even mean what he said, he just spewed whatever progressive or controversial opinion he had in hopes of making his mother’s heart stop beating.
He revelled in making rash decisions, somehow always ending up being benefited by them. He never gave much thought to anything: always doing his homework last minute yet somehow still getting top marks, taking some jokes too far, never taking into consideration other people’s safety unless they were close friends.
Some may call him selfish, but he liked not having to put too much thought into every single action. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing and being punished or worse, Regulus taking the beating for him. But now that he finally escaped the Black family, he enjoyed the freedom that came with leaving Grimmauld Place.
He enjoyed breaking rules and creating chaos. It made him feel mighty, knowing he had the power to make all of those choices, still coming out on top, and see how they affected certain people. Most applauded him, revered him for being so spontaneous and adventurous; others couldn’t stand him, complaining about his mean jabs and sometimes harmful pranks.
Yet he knew how to wait for the things he deemed important or worthy. He knew that it was best to wait for Euphemia’s cherry pie to cool down before eating it, to wait for three days after the full moon to make a werewolf joke to Remus, to wait a few hours after James lost a Quidditch match to suggest a quick trip to The Three Broomsticks. And he knew it was best to wait for you.
Good things come to those who wait, that was his mantra. Of course, most of his restraint when it came to you was because he cared deeply about you and your comfort, but his conscience also drove him to keep his hands to himself. Every time his hands were about to go under your skirt, every time he heard your breathy moans when he kissed your neck, every time you looked at him with pouty lips begging for a kiss and his fingers craved to squeeze your neck, he took a step back. He felt so guilty for tainting something that in his mind was so pure, so he just held you close and peppered your face with kisses until you giggled.
But the thought of you being so untouched and how bashful you looked when he teased you or someone made a sexual comment made him want to ruin your innocence. Something inside him craved to see you tainted, to have you writhing under him as he rolled his hips against yours while you clutched his shoulders. He wanted to take that holiness you had and turn it into something so sinful that there was no way for you to ask for redemption.
And when you opened the door and took the first step, who was he to deny you?
He dragged everything out. Since the day when he taught you how to touch yourself, he wanted to make you wait for every sexual act that followed. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg him for some relief.
So today during a lecture when you looked at him with glazed over eyes and begged him to help you relieve the strange ache you felt in your stomach since you woke, he decided to be benevolent and give you some relief. He swiftly moved his hand under your skirt (thanking God that most of your closet consisted of that particular piece of clothing and dresses) and pushed aside your underwear before his fingers made way between your dripping folds. He didn’t enter you, just played with your clit until you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle your moans.
But when you whispered a small “thank you, daddy” and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, the only thing he wanted to do was take you back to his room and press you to the bed until your legs shook and tears ran down your cheeks. His eyes quickly scanned the classroom to make sure no one saw or heard anything, shoulders tense because of your words. All he could see were students with their own glassy eyes as they listened to whatever the professor was talking about. Fucking tease, Sirius thought.
And now, as he watched you on your knees and clutching his leg, lips pouty and cheek nuzzling his jean covered thigh, he was thankful for being patient enough.
“Please, Sirius, they’re back,” you said. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but played dumb as one hand petted your hair. “What’s back, baby?”
“The tingles,” you explained.
“And you need me to fix it, hm?” A small taunt was evident in his tone. “Your hands aren’t enough anymore, right bunny?”
Your cheeks warmed up at the implication, nevertheless, you shook your head. You still managed to make yourself cum, but the way Sirius could play with your clit like an experienced musician and how his big hands moved your hips along his jean covered leg would never compare to your dainty digits. The thought of his big fingers inside of you was enough to increase the tingles, and your hands pressed down on your stomach trying to soothe the pain.
“Please, Sirius, it hurts so bad,” you whimpered.
“Use your words, angel. Be good,” he said. You looked up at him with watery eyes, your mind already slipping and not letting you form too many coherent thoughts. “Please, daddy,” you sniffled.
He kept petting your head. “What do you want, angel?” He asked, looking almost bored with the situation as he listened to your pleads. “Anything,” you whined.
He shook his head, mocking disappointment. “You know you have to ask for what you want, puppy.” Even though he wasn’t angry, honestly a little amused at your desperation, his voice was stern, trying to engrave his rules in your fuzzy brain.
Your hands squeezed his leg, “I need you… down there.”
“You need to be clearer.''
You closed your eyes. You hated being so crass, but Sirius certainly had no qualms about it. “I need you… in my pussy,” you got out. But it wasn’t enough, not for Sirius who longed to ruin every aspect of your innocence. “What do you want, baby? D’ya want my fingers or my tongue?”
“Both,” you whined. Bingo, he thought with a dark smirk that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you weren’t absolutely drenching and desperate for his touch. “Up you get, puppy,” he said, “lay on the bed f’me.”
You got on the bed right next to him, your head laying on one of your fluffy pillows. Your dress rode up a bit with your movements, but it didn’t really matter, and you pressed your legs together trying to relieve some of the tension while you waited for Sirius to do something. He simply watched you, taking in the image of you wriggling in place and toying with the rings he bought you for your birthday.
You felt a soft touch on your calves, and it gave you a fluttering feeling in your stomach. Sirius’s hands were moving slowly up your legs, nudging them apart without needing much force since you complied immediately. You were about to burst, ready to scream at him to just get on with it, but decided to keep quiet.
One of his hands made its way to the edge of your dress, swiftly going under it and his fingers slightly grazing your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked at the soft touch, but then just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No, come back!” you implored, reaching for Sirius’s wrist but being too slow.
Sirius arched one eyebrow, “What was that?”
“I’m sorry!” you cried out, “M’sorry, I just need you so bad. It hurts.” But Sirius remained where he was, arms now crossed over his chest as he looked at you. His eyes were full of disappointment and you wanted to cry, “What’s gotten into you today? You were so demanding in class before, so bratty, I don’t think you deserve it at all.” He was stretching the truth, you were by far the least bratty person he had ever been with, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw how much his words affected you.
A few tears fell at his words, “No, no, m’not bratty. I’m a good girl, daddy. I promise I’ll be so so good, your best girl! I won’t ask for anything more, m’sorry.'' You were saying anything you could to convince him that you were still his good girl, his angel.
Your lips were quivering and your chest was heaving with sobs you tried to keep inside; babbling apologies and trying to convince him that you would never act like this again, and he finally took pity on you. His hands gripped your ankles and opened your legs so he could lay comfortably between them. He could see a dark patch on your lavender underwear, and he huffed out a laugh with a slightly amused shake of his head. “I forgive you, bunny, but you’ll have to take everything that I give you. D’you think you can do that f’me?”
You nodded eagerly, choking a small ‘thank you’ as you tried to control your breath. He grabbed the ends of your dress and bunched it up over your waist, not bothering to take it off. He licked a strip over your underwear and the combination of his warm tongue with the friction of the cotton cloth was enough to make you mewl.
Sirius could not deny that he had been craving to taste you once more after he licked your fingers clean that day, and now only getting a smidge of your taste from what seeped through your underwear drove him insane. He needed to taste you completely, so he quickly pulled them off and pocketed them in the back of his jeans.
He used his fingers to spread your folds wide open, staring hungrily at all the slick that had gathered. “Oh puppy, look at the mess you’ve already made,” he crooned. “Y’re dripping, d’ya really need me this bad?”
“Yes, so so bad. Please, daddy.” He was so close, his warm breath hitting your wet folds and making you tremble in anticipation.
You watched, using your elbows to raise yourself a little, as he slowly started to take his rings off. “Hold ‘em for me, bunny, don’t want them to get dirty,” he said as he slid his chunky rings into your fingers. The metal dangled a little because of the size difference, so you closed your hands to keep them from falling.
Finally, his tongue made contact with your clit and you sighed in relief. It was followed by a moan when he started to suck on it, making sure to swirl his tongue all around before slurping. He looked like a starved man that finally came into contact with some sweet fruit, moving his head around your pussy to have you gushing on him. The ache in your tummy was slowly decreasing, now replaced with a nice fluttering feeling.
Your whines and moans echoed through his ears, resembling the most beautiful angel choir he had ever heard. He pulled away for a moment, “I’ve been waiting to taste you for days, puppy. S’better than I remembered.”
The more he pushed his tongue inside you, the more your legs shook. You involuntarily closed them, your pillowy thighs acting as earmuffs around Sirius’s head. He let them rest there for a few seconds before pushing them open once more, adding more fervour to his movements, eager to drink your sweet ambrosia.
Your closed fists went to his head, and you opened them a little to grip his hair, trying to ground yourself. “Gonna cum, daddy, can I?” You breathed out. Sirius just hummed, sending vibrations that were enough to make you let go. You tried to close your legs once more, but his shoulders prevented you from doing so. You felt like you were floating, your brain shutting off for a few seconds before returning to earth.
But Sirius didn’t stop moving his tongue, one of his fingers circling your hole before entering you slowly. Just one of his fingers felt like two of yours, even though you knew it wasn’t an accurate comparison. The stretch this time burned more than when you touched yourself, and you whined while shaking your head. “Too much, s’too much.”
Sirius paused for a moment so he could press your legs to your chest with one hand while the other kept moving in and out of you. The sudden switch in position made you gasp, but not as much as when Sirius thrust his fingers hard. “Are you dumb? I told you you had to take everything I gave you. D’you want to make me mad again?”
More tears fell when he curled his fingers, expertly finding that spongy spot inside you that pumped white heat through your veins. The way they twisted resembled a musician fiddling with a harp, your needy whines accompanying them like the main act. “No no, I can take it” you gasped, drowning in bliss as his fingers kept hitting the perfect spots.
You were already so close, Sirius giving you no respite as he quickly pushed his fingers. Your hand gripped his arm, fingertips digging the ink-covered skin. “C-close,” you whined, eyes rolling back and mouth open as you felt the tension ready to break.
“Going to make more of a mess, angel?” he grumbled, and you tried to nod as much as you could in your constricted position. Sirius chuckled, “Dirty little thing. Go on, I’ve got you.”
You whimpered brokenly as he pulled another orgasm from you. It felt like his fingertips were scrapping your insides to drag it out, and your feet dangled in the air as you swung them while trying to grab his wrist to stop him from moving.
Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes from you, with your pretty tears dripping down your cheeks and your chest heaving with small sobs from how good you felt. For him, all for him and only ever for him, because no one had ever touched you like he has and no one else ever would. “You look so pretty like this,” he cooed. “God I love your tears, baby, look how hard you make me.”
Your eyes moved down his body—when had he taken off his shirt? His tattoos splayed over his toned muscles made you clench around his fingers. You adored the small drawings that covered most of his body, they looked so beautiful on him and you just wanted to cry even more at how pretty your boyfriend was. When your eyes moved lower, following his previous instruction, you could see there was already a bulge in his pants that you knew was his cock, and your mouth watered at the thought of it just resting against his stomach like it did the first time you sucked him.
“I wanna feel you,” you cried while stretching your hands to touch him. He let you, your soft palms going over his chest and grabbing his shoulders so you could pull him down. “Kissie,” you breathed, letting his lips hover over yours for a second before kissing you hard and messily. His tongue played with yours and it only added more fuel to the fire inside you.
A moan broke you apart when his fingers resumed their pace, “P-please, no more” you babbled, the stimulation too much to bear.
“How are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers, hm?” He asked and you whined, his fingers burying themselves up to his knuckles and making your eyes roll back once more. Your mouth was dry from being constantly open, whimpers and moans constantly escaping from the open cavity. “Come on, one more, I know you have it in you. My good girl aren’t you?”
The squelching sounds were so dirty and they rang through your ears,  yet even through your fuzzy mind you could discern the important words, “Y-your good girl,” you managed to get out with a smile, glad to be praised by him.
His other hand pressed down on your legs even more, and now you could see the way the digits moved in and out of you, a slight sheen coating the skin every time they came out. “God, you were right, bunny, you are tight,” he grunted, “I don’t think I’ll ever fit, m’gonna break you.”
At that, your eyes widened. “No no, you’ll fit, daddy!” But he just chuckled at your desperation, “M’gonna break you in half, angel. Do you want that? Do you want me to split you open?”
A small chant of ’yes’ and ‘please’ echoed through the room. You could feel another wave coming, ready to wash over you as your toes curled in anticipation. It was like you were dangling on the edge, your hands holding on for dear life as you tried to hold on, and your moans grew louder and louder with every thrust Sirius gave.
Your clenching walls around his digits were warning enough for him, and he kept his eyes on your form as you struggled to keep it at bay, waiting for his permission. He watched as your ring clad fingers scrambled to the sheets, gripping them tightly as your head moved from side to side. “That’s it, bunny, let go f’me” and with one harsh thrust, you slackened the hold you had on your release and finally let go.
If you felt like you were still on your body you would’ve screamed. A white heat engulfed you as your vision grew hazy, your hips raising of their own accord and aiding Sirius in dragging your orgasm out. You looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty sheen on your skin and now tangled up hair sticking to your forehead. Sirius leant down, tongue cleaning the fallen tears before they dried, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.
He grabbed your face, squishing your spit covered cheeks. “What do you say, angel?”
With a shuddering breath, you looked into his stormy eyes as he cleaned your release from his fingers with his tongue. “Thank you, daddy.”
You tried to lower your legs, but Sirius kept them in place. You stared at him, confused, yet he was staring at your puffy cunt, all shiny and stretched out for him. A smirk covered his lips as he finally looked at you, “I think y’re finally ready for m’cock, angel.”
TAGLIST: @ildm4ev @capsmischief @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @remusjlupinisdead @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour @emmaev @gxtitobxby @sam-hollandsgirl —if you want to be tagged tap here
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milazka · 3 years
Text
not the greatest feeling ever | 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝.
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the less i know the better masterlist
main masterlist
summary: fuck it, i’m not doing a summary, i’m so bad at it. oh! there’s smut btw.
warnings: smut, cursing, mentions of blood, underrage drinking
last thought: i’m proud of this one, took me a lot of time to write, but i think it was worth it! enjoy your reading! love, milz.
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The gentle breeze twirls her golden locks in all directions. She hums the lyrics of You never can tell, having watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time last night. Her irises are fixed to the slightly damp roadside covered with fresh fallen leaves from this morning rainstorm. The last rays of sunlight caress her baby-like skin as they disappear into the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of orange and rose. 
“C’mon grandpa, you’re slow as hell!” she teases Marcus, turning her head back to stick her tongue out at him. Standing on his skateboard, he sends her the finger, scraping the pavement with his over-used black vans to gain speed and eventually catch up with her. 
“That’s how the turtle won the race, dumbass,” he gently nudges her shoulder with his hand as he rides his board besides her. She gives a sharp turn of the handlebars to move her tires out of the sand and back on the pavement, giving him a death glare. 
“I almost fell in the ditch, shithead!” he simply laughs, his head falling backward. His dark colored hairs, normally slicked back, are ruffled by the warm September wind, giving him a laid back look that fits him perfectly. She adores hearing his laugh; it's one of the purest and most delightful sounds. It was only recently that she heard him laugh again, having not heard it for months after the day they lost the third musketeer of their trio. It was one of the hardest moments of their lives, but sharing this kind of experience brought them closer than ever. Charlie was there for him when he hit rock bottom, stroking his back while he cried on the shower floor, freezing water running down their damped bodies. She was also by his side the first time he went to therapy, soothingly squeezing his hand before he entered the office.
“If someone had to fall in a ditch, it would be me.”
“You know that Max and I made bet on how long it would take you to fall in a ditch?” she replies, checking his reaction at the corner of her cerulean eyes. He grins. 
“How much did you bet?” he curiously asks, one eyebrow arched. 
“Fifty bucks,” his eyes almost snap out of their sockets. He stops, stepping off his board.
“Fifty bucks?! That’s insulting, thought I was worth more than that,” he shouts as she makes a u-turn, retracing her steps, stopping in front of him.
“I’ll give you half of it if you wait ‘till June,” Charlie sarcastically says to him, elbows leaning on the handlebars of her bicycle. He caught a glimpse of light in her gaze; a twinkle of amusement he always finds in the corners of her softly crinkled eyes when she smiles truthfully.
“Deal,” he winks at her, drawing a small laugh from her slightly parted lips. He picks up Charlie's polaroid from the basket at the front of her bike, signaling for her to ride so he can immortalize the moment for her. Marcus knows she keeps those famous polaroids in an old converse box as a source of happiness; they're memories of moments she doesn't want to forget. 
He takes the little camera to his eyes, snapping a picture when Charlie turns her head to the side to look at him, smiling like there is no tomorrow. As the picture is slowly developing, he hears a squeal of tires and a squeal of surprise from the distance. 
“Fuck Charlie!” he shouts, running towards her as she sits, holding firmly her right forearm. His heart tightens at the sight of her painful face, her traits are torn by pain and he can see tears gathering at the corner of her squinted blue eyes. Marcus hates to see her in pain; he knows she's not the type to complain about anything so when he sees her azure eyes filling with water, he knows it's serious. 
“You got a few scratches,” he whispers, running his eyes over her legs and arms. “We’ll go to your house and clean you up, okay?” she nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Marcus tucks his skateboard under his arm, grabbing the handlebars and seat of Charlie's bike simultaneously.
─── ° • ❀ ───
“Hold still,” his hazel eyes are focused on the mid-depth cut on her forearm. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, giving him a severe, almost cold sober look. She takes a big gulp of the rich whiskey she borrowed from her father's secret stash. 
“Oh fucking hell!” she swears between her clenched teeth when the rubbing alcohol makes contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm. “That’s not the greatest feeling ever,” she whimpers, her forehead resting on his shoulder covered by his green olive shirt. 
“I know, angel, I know,” he runs his hand through her blonde hair, gently stroking her scalp in a soothing way. She keeps her head resting against his shoulder, holding back the tears that threaten to run down her flushed cheeks.
“I’m usually the one taking care of you,” he knows it refers as much to all the times he fell off his skateboard as it does to when he hit rock bottom when their friend passed away. Charlie isn't used to being taken care of; she has always been able to look after herself without anyone's help.
Crying is for the weak.
She swallows her tears, putting her mask back on with a slight smile.
“Your new neighbor saw me fall,” she changes the subject, pausing to take another gulp directly from the whisky bottle. “Great way to make a first impression,” a light laugh escapes from her lips, but she halts when she notices his gaze turning away almost discreetly. “What’s wrong?” 
Over the years, she has learned to read him like the palm of her hand; she knows he looks away to the left when he is hiding something from her and that he scrapes the back of his neck when he is embarrassed.
“I-I had sex with her,” he blurts out, avoiding her gaze while he still applies pressure on the bandage covering the wound on her forearm. 
“Holy shit,” her eyes widened, not expecting this kind of disclosure. “Wait, what about Padma?” 
“You know she is not my girlfriend, Charlz,” he sighs, finally sustaining her non-judgmental azure irises. It' s one of the things he likes about her; she never judges him and even if she did, he wouldn't know since she hides it so well. 
“Was it good?” she does not insist about Padma, knowing perfectly well that she is the first one to know. He doesn't answer, looking thoughtful as if a million thoughts are running through his head. He steals the bottle of alcohol from her, gulping down a few ounces of the throat-burning liquid.
“What aren’t you telling me, Marcus?” 
He shuts his eyes, exhaling loudly.
“I don’t know if I was good… God, I don’t even know if she came!” her heart tightens; he looks distraught and she knows that this is a big deal to him, after all, he just lost his virginity. He breathes heavily, his jaw as tightly clenched as his fists.
“Show me.” 
“What?!” he opens one eye, eyebrows furrowed as if he was questioning if she was being serious.
“Show me what you did, I’ll tell you if it’s good,” 
“You’re drunk, Charlz…I don-” he stops as soon as her silver rings coated hands grip the hem of his olive shirt, grazing the soft skin of his lower abdomen with her fingertips. Sitting on her knees, she brings her head up to his neck, pressing her lips against the skin. The feeling of her wet lips on his burning skin sends a shiver running through his spine. 
“I’m sober enough to remember everything and give you my consent,” she whispers to his ear and he almost moans when she slightly nibbles his lobe. Her hands slips to the back of his neck, forcing him to hover over her as she lies on her back.
Both his hands are lingering on the buckle of her belt, struggling to undo it. She clutches his chin with one hand, plunging her reassuring gaze into his. He looks nervous, his hands trembling slightly when he takes off her jeans. She presses her lips to his Adam's apple, feeling him tense up at first, but relax as she sensuously slides her tongue up to his sculpted jaw.
“A-are you good with two figers?” he nervously asks, his right hand resting on the edge of her panties. 
“Yes,” he hesitantly slips his hand into her panties, parting her legs with his other hand before sliding his index and middle fingers up and down her folds.  She can see him blush when an almost quiet moan escapes her lips at the feeling of his fingers inside her core. He pumps them in and out slowly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.
“Try to curl them in a ‘come here’ movement,” she demonstrates with her own fingers. He nods and mimics her actions, making her whimper under him. 
“That feels good,” she encourages him. “What did you do next?” she softly asks, rubbing her thumb against his cheek to sooth him. 
“Hum, well, we-um, you know, did it,” he says, blushing like a little child who just got his first kiss with the popular girl. 
“You didn’t go down on her?” she asks, looking quite shocked. He seemed clueless. “I mean, you didn’t use your mouth?” 
“Uh no, should I have?” 
“You boys really know nothing about female pleasure,” she sights. “Try watching lesbian porn next time, you will learn A LOT more,” He almost chokes, not expecting to hear this come out of his best friend's lips while his fingers are still inside her. They've always been comfortable with each other, but not to the point of talking about the kind of porn they listen to. The idea of her best friend watching porn and getting herself off almost made him cum in his pants.
“You do know what a cunniligus is, right?” 
“God, Charlz, I’m not five years old! Yes, I know what it is!” he exclaims, his ego lightly bruised by her question. 
“Well, show me then, playboy,” she challenges him, a cocky smile slipping on her lips. the alcohol going slightly to her head.
He pulls her to the edge of the mattress, kneeling at the foot of the bed between her legs. His lips kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, sucking it until he sees a dark red mark appear. He gets rid of her underwear in the blink of an eye  before placing her legs over his shoulders. He darts his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip between her folds without giving her the chance to acknowledge what was going on. He stops once his tongue rests on the bundle of nerves, licking around it in a circular motion.
“Fuck,” she moans. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“You really think I've never watched lesbian porn?” he teases her, biting the inside of her thigh, making her body jolt. He dives back his head to her core, sucking her clit into his mouth.
At leats he know where the clit is.
"Oh my god Marcus," she moans, squirming against his grip. He places his arm over her lower abdomen, pinning her body against the mattress. She can feel his two fingers sliding back into her core, the sudden feeling causing her hips to buck up against his face.  
“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hun?” he praises her, fingers curling inside her just like she taught him. She could barely feel herself, letting out a series of high-pitched moans as Marcus tongue was working on her bundle of nerves. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her head pressed down against the matress. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, tucking at the roots as she let out a cry, the euphoric feeling taking over her body for a moment. Marcus looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, her legs shaking on his shoulders. He can feel her core pulsating around his fingers as she comes down from her high.
He took a mental picture of her, engraving this moment in his memory forever.
─── ° • ❀ ───
taglist; @cognacdelights @ellegotohell @janedartist
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swtki · 3 years
Text
Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut
Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!
A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.
WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH. 
19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.
24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”. 
_______________________________________
I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own. 
The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.
“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case. 
“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready. 
“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.
“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.
“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him. 
“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.
At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him. 
“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.” 
A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it. 
School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex. 
I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress. 
The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window. 
“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn. 
“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it. 
My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.
“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets. 
“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-” 
“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.
“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.
“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.
“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-” 
“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.
“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.
I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.
“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.
“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.
The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready. 
I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.
“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”
If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.
“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.
“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.
“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”
I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.
His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.
“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.
“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.
“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.
“Get on your back.” I said.
We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.
I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.
“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.
“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.
His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.
My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.
He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.
“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.
He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.
I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.
“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.
He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.
“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.
“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.
“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.
“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.
“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.
“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”
“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.
Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.
He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.
“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.
“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.
I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.
“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.
Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.
I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.
“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”
He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.
“I love you so much, dear.”
1K notes · View notes
ssahoodrathotchner · 3 years
Text
Pictures of You
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff
A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)
Masterlist
---
You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.
“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”
Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.
“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.
Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.
The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?
“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.
“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.
“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.
“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”
And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.
“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.
“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.
Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.
“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.
Fuck. What do you remember?
“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.
“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”
“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.
“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.
“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.
Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”
“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.
“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”
You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.
“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.
Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?
“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?
“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.
However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.
“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”
And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.
“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?
Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.
“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.
“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.
At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.
“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.
Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.
“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”
With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.
“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.
“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.
Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”
“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”
“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”
Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.
“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.
“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.
“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.
“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”
“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.
“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.
The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.
Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.
“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.
“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.
“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”
“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.
“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.
You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.
Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.
“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.
Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.
“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.
You pause and consider for a moment.
“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”
Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.
“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”
“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”
“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.
“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.
“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”
“And the unsub?”
“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”
“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.
“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.
“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.
“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.
You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.
“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.
“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”
You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.
---
You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.  
“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.
“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”
“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”
You raise your eyebrows.
“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”
That catches your attention.
“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.
“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.
Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.
“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.
“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.
“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.
“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.
Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.
“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.
“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.
You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.
“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.
“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “
“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”
With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.
---
It doesn’t work.
Fuck.
Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.
The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.
It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.
The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.
“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.
“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”
Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.
A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.
“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.
You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.
“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”
Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.
“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.
“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”
And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.
“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.
“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—
Oh.
Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—
There.
It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.
Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.
And you know.
With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.
“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”
And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.
Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.
“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.
“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “
“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”
You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.
“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.
“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”
“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”
Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.
“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”
Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile. 
You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”
“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.
“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.
“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”
“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”
“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”
“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”
“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.
“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.
“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”
Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.
With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.
“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.
“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.
Yeah, this is happily ever after.
1K notes · View notes
binunus · 3 years
Text
sex with bin x eunwoo (m)
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a/n THIS WHOLE ALBUM??? IS SO GOOD??? LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK !!!
also im so so sorry that i keep disappearing, every time I think I have a break in school, my professors keep going like sike here’s a new assignment and group presentation 🤡, but I swear I’m still working on all the requests, it’s just a real slow progression this time 😔
but thank you all so much for being really patient with me and my works, i legit wanna cry when I think about how sweet all you loves are ❤️
→ genre: smut
→ tw: threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it lovies) dom!binwoo, brat!reader, light bondage?? anal, eiffel tower, oral (f and m receiving), fingering (f and m receiving), ~choking~ bc it’s me, squirting, v-voyeurism??
→ word count: 3.3k _________________________________
oh good fucking lord
I don’t even know where to start
just the thought of getting dicked down by these two immaculate men??? at the same time??? i would sell my soul
and just binwoo are literally my biases?? im still going back and forth between them (even though I think bin is the top)
alright so how does this little thing even start
this is a non-idol au, lowkey this request is giving me frat boy vibes oops i said it
bin and eunwoo are close, they’re best buds
they have fucked the same guy/girl before, but never at the same time
they just have the same taste in people wink wonk
sidenote: bin and eunwoo as bi kings??? so much power fuck
so you are a mutual friend
you met them both in college and have stayed friends since then
but relationships aren’t for you (not yet at least)
the streets™ are still your companion
yes you have fucked both bin and eunwoo before in college, eunwoo once when you were junior, and bin a couple times throughout senior year
you don’t talk to them often, but if something comes up on your feed or a monumental event happens to any one of you, of course you’d spike up some conversation
so you’re coming back in town for a week or so, visiting old friends and family
and bin hits you up like “hey, I saw that you were in town! we should get some dinner and catch up!”
and you were not about to say no to that, bin was a good part of your college years! it would be nice to hang out with him again
alright you weren’t expecting to get action from this dinner – it popped in your mind, yes, but it wasn’t the ulterior motive
but did you try to dress up a little to impress moon bin?? maybe so
and shit, when he showed up to the restaurant looking like a whole ass man?? 
like did his biceps look more appetizing than the food you were being served? a little bit
conversation was exchanged very easily, you and bin were always a bit flirty with each other, ever since college, but you both knew it never meant anything beyond sex
and so when he asked if you were dating anyone, you knew this was the invitation, and were you going to accept it?? 100%, you haven’t had sex in a while because of your job
and so you find yourself back in bin’s apartment
bin: hm? I guess eunwoo’s not home from work yet
you: eunwoo? as in cha eunwoo? you guys still live together?
bin: yeah, we like living together, rent was cheaper that way, and this place is equidistant from both of our work places...is that a problem??
you: no, I mean it makes sense, just...what if eunwoo comes back while we’re in the middle of fucking...wouldn’t that be weird?
bin shrugging: you’ve had sex with eunwoo in college too, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before either. who knows he might even wanna join?
he said that as a joke alright
but as soon as he mentioned it, your eyes dilated a bit
bin noticed immediately and he caged you against the wall, a little smirk playing on his lips
bin: you seem to like that idea, y/n. hm? you wanna get fucked by both me and eunwoo? didn’t know you were into threesomes
your cheeks are flushing, you felt seen: would you feel weird if he joined? you guys are friends and roommates
bin shaking his head: me and eunwoo have talked about it before, and honestly this seems like the perfect opportunity. we’re all friends here.
you being nervous a little bit bc a threesome?? with both bin and eunwoo?? those two 6 foot attractive men??
you tried a threesome before bc you were curious, but it wasn’t the best hookup experience
you: should we...? wait for him??
your cheeks are flushed a little, like how were you supposed to go about this
bin smiles bc you look a bit cute right now being all shy and he just pinches your cheek
bin: you got cuter since we graduated y/n
you: shut the fuck up bin, don’t make me tie you up again
bin smirks and his hand moves from your cheek to fully grasp at your neck, he squeezes your throat as he pushes you so that your back collided with the wall: baby, if anyone’s getting tied up tonight, it’s gonna be you
and god if you weren’t horny before, you definitely are now, especially with the way bin was cutting off your airflow??? your head was spinning in the best kind of way
bin slotting his thigh in between your legs as he just crashes his lips onto yours
and he’s still choking you when he literally shoves his tongue down your throat, you have to grab onto his broad shoulders just to steady yourself
making out with bin is so hot
he picks you up by your ass and you wrap your legs around his waist, you both are still making out as he leads you to the couch
you’re straddling him oh lord have mercy
you in between kisses: why don’t we go to your room? what, is it messy?
you moan as he spanks your ass at the quip: we’re gonna need to do something about that smart mouth of yours baby...and we’re here to give eunwoo a little show when he comes home. Why, you need a bed? pillow princess? last time I remember, you were fine getting fucked in the maintenance room.
you two go back to kissing, bin’s hands were gripping at your waist now, lifting up the bottom of your shirt so that you could take it off
never in your life have you been so happy to wear a skirt, you could feel the outline of his bulge against your underwear, the fabric of his jeans giving you just enough friction
and when you start grinding on him, he grunts into your mouth and bites on your lower lip
and fuck when bin removes his shirt? he was always built in college but the definition of his muscles now?? you were literally drooling
you: holy shit bin, isn’t your job in business? where do you find the time to workout?
he’s kissing your neck now: you can always find time to workout y/n, just make it part of your daily routine
exercise evangelist moonbin™
you’re tilting your head to the side giving him more access, bin’s sucking hickeys into your neck and it just feels so good
your neck’s a sensitive spot, if you couldn’t tell
and bin knows that so he’s paying extra attention to your neck, you don’t even notice when his hands go around your torso to unclasp your bra
the two of you are literally just topless on his couch, making out and feeling each other up, when lo and behold, eunwoo comes home
his eyes go wide and he immediately covers his face: jesus christ bin, go to your fucking room
bin starts laughing, you know his laugh where his eyes literally crinkle and he smiles so wide and his laugh increases in pitch, that one
you can’t help but laugh too, you thought you would be embarrassed, but this is a bit funny
you: you don’t have to cover your eyes eunwoo, it’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before
eunwoo: oh shit, hey y/n, didn’t know you were coming over?? well...uh if you guys aren’t gonna go to bin’s room, I’m going to mine and just let me know when you’re done
bin: you sure you wanna go to your room? y/n wants you to join us
eunwoo’s blushing a little bit (he’s not covering his face anymore) when you two meet eyes: are you sure y/n?
you get a bit shy again bc shit, eunwoo in a suit coming from work with silver-blue hair? sexy
you: yeah...if you want to, me and bin are cool with it.
bin’s back to kissing your neck as you basically watch eunwoo remove his jacket and tie
and oof him unbuttoning his dress shirt? y’all he’s a tease, they both are
bin: let’s take this back to my room
eunwoo: we can go to mine, it’s cleaner and my bed’s bigger
you: i knew it
bin bites your shoulder and you let out a mix between a yelp of pain and a moan
bin: eunwoo get your ropes, we need to teach y/n a lesson on being bratty
eunwoo chuckling as he leads the way to his bedroom
bin already made himself comfortable on eunwoo’s bed, and you’re standing to the side making conversation as eunwoo looks through his closet for the ropes lol
as soon as eunwoo finds it, there’s a dark change in his eyes and he smirks at you: why don’t you join binnie on the bed, y/n?
your stomach turns in excitement, eunwoo tosses the ropes to bin and he puts a hand on your back as he leads you to his bed, and before you could get on by yourself, eunwoo just tugs your skirt down making you gasp
you lie down and bin grins as he binds your wrists to eunwoo’s headboard, usually you would put up a little fight when you get tied up, but you just stayed silent, you were anticipating what would happen next
bin: you’re being oddly obedient y/n
you’re a brat okay, but in the past when you and bin used to hook up, your brattiness increased by like 100%, like you’re extra bratty with bin for some reason
~it is what it is~
maybe it’s because eunwoo’s here too that your bratty side has suppressed a bit
bin and eunwoo both start removing all their clothes and you’re like shit eunwoo’s built too
bin settles in between your legs and eunwoo leans in and starts kissing you
and mmm eunwoo’s good at making out like he legit be taking your breath away and then you start feeling bin take off your soaked panties and he just goes right in
you literally moan into eunwoo’s mouth and your hands are straining against the ropes bc you just want to hold onto something !!
eunwoo feeling up your breasts and tweaking your nipples while bin is sucking on your clit and probing his tongue in and out your entrance??? euphoric
you’re literally feeling so many sensations right now and it’s just foreplay woo
and then the edging starts
bin??? hella good at eating out, oof what that mouth do
and with the added stimulation from eunwoo kissing your neck and pulling at your nips, you’re reaching your orgasm faster than anticipated
and suddenly they’re both off you
you: what the fuck?
you’re like gasping and glaring at the both of them and they just give you smug looks
bin: I don’t know if you deserve to cum just yet, y/n. right, eunwoo?
eunwoo chuckling as he nods and flicks at your nipple: binnie told me that you like talking back, hmmm that won’t work with both of us here y/n
your submissiveness kicking in and you’re whining: i won’t talk back, I promise
bin: I don’t know if I believe you y/n
and then they switch places and now bin’s making out with you again and eunwoo’s face to face with your cunt and he just shoves two fingers in your entrance and starts scissoring you
and right as you’re about to cum, they pull away again
this goes on at least two more times, you’re literally so frustrated tears are pooling in your eyes and you’re whining hard as hell, your wrists already aching from the ropes 
eunwoo: do you want us to untie you, y/n?
you nodding as you’re sniffling back the tears
aww they feel bad so eunwoo unties the ropes and he’s like gently rubbing at your wrists
bin wiping your tears away as he pinches at your cheek again
bin: you okay, y/n?
you: I’m so close, please
bin: alright baby, who do you want first, hm?
you honestly didn’t know, you had no preference, you just wanted to get railed
eunwoo: why not both?
your eyes go wide a little bit, your ass isn’t even prepped
bin sensing your hesitation and he just puts a hand on your waist: if you don’t want to--
you: no, i want to...I’m just...my ass isn’t ready...
eunwoo laughing cutely as he pats your thigh: we’ll prep you baby, don’t worry
you start by going on all fours, bin enters you first from behind and the groan he lets out bc you’re just so tight wow 
he literally has to restrain himself from just ramming into you, your walls just fit so snugly around him, his nails were digging into the skin of your waist
you open your mouth in a moan at the stretch and in that moment, eunwoo shoves his cock down your throat you literally gag
for reference, they’re both above average, no surprise there, I’d say both around 8 in., but bin’s girthier for sure
and so bin’s fucking your cunt while eunwoo’s fucking your mouth
simultaneously, eunwoo tugs at your hair and bin sneaks a finger down to gather some juices from your pussy before probing at your asshole
bin’s prepping you real well mmmmm
he’s literally fingering your ass while he’s pounding into you, the tip of his cock hitting so deep in your cervix
on the other hand you’re so focused on sucking eunwoo off, you take him as deep in your throat as you could, letting your jaw slack as he just thrusted in your mouth
and also the vibrations of your moans around his cock every time bin hits deep in you???
eunwoo swears he almost busts a nut when your hands reach up to play with his balls
he’s panting as he pulls your mouth off his cock: I need to be inside you before I cum
and then he’s lying down on his back and you start to ride eunwoo, and then bin lines his cock up at your other hole and you start to tense
eunwoo bringing you into a kiss to try and distract you from the pain your asshole’s about to feel
and you start hissing as bin starts to push in, you’re clenching so hard around eunwoo and tugging tightly at the ends of his hair
eunwoo starts making circles on your clit so that you could relax a bit to make it easier for bin to enter your back hole
and then the three of you just stay still for a bit when bin finally bottoms out, you’re still trying to get used to feeling stuffed full, you haven’t been fucked in so long and now you’re getting railed by two cocks??
the two of them are both saying sweet things to calm you down and distract you from the pain
and it’s cute, you know from your respective past hookup experiences with them that they’re really good at sensing discomfort or pain and would always tend to your needs
oof baby but as soon as you give the okay for both of them to move
it’s like you’re taken to another dimension holy shit
they both hit so deep, you swear to god their cocks have to be touching or something, or maybe at least reaching your intestines
when people say rearrange your guts, it definitely must have been this
you’re trying to set a pace on top of eunwoo, but bin thrusting from behind literally makes your knees go weak until eunwoo just lifts his hips and takes over, matching bin’s speed
and imagine this: bin pulling your hair, making your head tilt back and eunwoo just reaches up and covers your neck with his hand before he squeezes at your throat
your eyes are literally rolling into the back of your head, you have never felt this good ever in your life
your head’s spinning again, and you know all three of you are reaching the tipping point pretty soon, your stomach is churning, making you clench hard around both eunwoo and bin
eunwoo biting his lip as he groans, his grip tightening just a bit more around your neck
bin’s still yanking your hair back and he starts spanking your ass, he’s moaning as well
you literally scream, throat feeling raw, as you cum, you have never orgasmed so hard before, your body was convulsing around both of them and you just collapse on top of eunwoo
you’re vision literally sees white and your ears are ringing as they both cum in you
you black out for a little bit
eunwoo and bin: o_o holy fuck
the two of them start panicking like...did they just fuck you dead?? put you in a coma??
okay but just imagine eunwoo and bin bickering with each other about what to do like
bin: do we call 119???
eunwoo: what do we say? we fucked our friend into a coma?
it’s okay because you regain consciousness soon enough and both boys let out the biggest sigh of relief
you: ...what happened?
eunwoo: you passed out for a bit there y/n
you start giggling, much to their surprise, and you try to sit up
bin: ...are you okay y/n?
you: yeah, I can’t believe I blacked out because you guys fucked me so well, that’s pretty hot not gonna lie
eunwoo goes into the kitchen real quick to get you some water and bin sits down next to you
you thank eunwoo when he hands you the glass and he sits across from you and bin
the two roommates exchange a look and just high-five each other
you roll your eyes as they just laugh at each other...ugh boys
bin teasing you: I’ve never seen you so submissive y/n
eunwoo joining in: yeah, didn’t know you could squirt as well
you almost spit out the water: i-huh? no way
eunwoo: yeah, my stomach was soaked, I wiped it off when you were out
your face flushes, you’ve never squirted before
bin: don’t be embarrassed! it was hot, y/n, really
the three of you then just jump into a casual conversation about college, keep in mind you’re all still naked
and then you feel the cum just like in both your holes and it’s just uncomfortably sticky
you: uh...do you guys mind if I shower? my pussy feels gross right now
bin, with a glint in his eyes: I can clean that up for you, baby
before you know it, bin’s eating you out again -- to be more specific, he’s literally licking the mixture of yours and eunwoo’s cum from your cunt
that’s sexy...
you make eye contact with eunwoo and he’s just smirking as he sits back and watches you two, no intention on joining yet
alright but you had no idea if you could take another round right now, the first one literally made you pass out
so after bin makes you cum again, you tap out for the night
the three of you shower -- separately -- and then regroup in the living room to just chat and chill
the two insist you sleep over for the night since it’s past midnight by now
were there also hints of a round two in the morning?? maybe
you sleep in one of eunwoo’s shirts, but end up sleeping next to bin bc he’s whiny and likes cuddling
you three fuck again in the morning oops until eunwoo had to leave for work
then you and bin fuck again afterwards
happy threesome
happy comeback :)
4-5-21
569 notes · View notes
f1nalboys · 3 years
Text
Backstage - Bday fic for Danny
HAPPY (very late im sorry) BDAY TO @knifewh0re !! I really hope you like this and i hope your birthday went well AND i hope today is even better!!! 
Poly!Ghostface x Danny
WORD COUNT: 1978
WARNINGS: they/them pronouns afab reader (which is danny), oral (amab and afab recieving), vaginal fingering, implication of more sex, semi-public sex, closet sex, time crunch, the boys aren’t mean in this one besides like two off-hand comments from billy
Billy and Stu stood backstage before the show searching for you. Stu was bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically vibrating with excitement. “Stu, man, relax. You’re getting on my nerves.” Stu pouts and opens his mouth to say something but stops himself. He elbows Billy in the side harshly, pointing down the crowded hallway. Billy cranes his neck and breaks out into a grin.
It was you. You were surrounded by your band, decked out in your stage outfit and laughing and god you looked beautiful. Billy didn’t wait for Stu and took off down the hallway, his heart beating. You went to college with them, actually had a class with Billy, but you didn’t know them. They knew you, obviously.
Your band was getting popular in the punk scene and Stu had seen you play live a few months ago and immediately fell in love with your voice. He forced Billy to listen and, even though punk wasn’t his most loved genre, he had to admit that you were fucking amazing. And now they were here. Stu had bought backstage passes for the show and told Billy that they had to talk to you.
“Danny!” You turn around at the sound of your name with your eyebrows furrowed. Stu had caught up to Billy and had a big smile on his face, waving you over. Even though you didn’t know the two of them you went over, their smiles and the blush creeping up the neck of the brown haired boy made you curious.
“Uhm, hey. You two know me?”
“Yeah! We actually go to school with you, Billy here’s in your Intro to Film History class with you,” Stu says, nudging Billy towards you with his elbow. Billy forces a smile, his heart beating fast when you smile back. “And we happen to be huge fans of yours.”
You grin, turning around and waving off your band member, asking them to give you a few minutes. “Sorry about that. We have like half an hour before the show starts. So, you go to school with me? How come I’ve never seen you two around before? Think I would’ve noticed two cute guys.”
Stu lets out a high pitched nervous laugh, punching Billy on the shoulder hard. He was fucking star struck at this point. “Cute? You think we’re cute?” He says with a grin that only grows when you nod. They were cute! Stu was wearing a button up shirt and a denim jacket - which Billy had bought him specially for this - and Billy wore a tight black t-shirt and ripped jeans. 
“I’m Billy, that’s Stu. And you’re Danny, right?” 
“Sure am. So, any reason you two came out here to see us play?” Billy’s eyebrow raises. He could have sworn you were flirting with them. Stu seems to think the same thing because he makes a small choked noise which makes you laugh, hard. 
Stu shrugs, deciding now is the perfect time to start acting more suave. “We wanted to wish you luck before the show. With words or actions, whichever you’d prefer.” If Billy weren’t hoping you’d say yes he would have turned around and punched Stu as hard as he possibly could for being so god damn forward. 
“I mean, I could definitely go for some physical encouragement. You two think you could make it quick?”
“Wait, really?” Stu was actually pretty shocked you were agreeing. He was happy, like, REALLY happy, but he was still shocked. You nod and Billy takes a hold of your hand and drags you down the hallway. He wanted to find somewhere that the three of you wouldn’t be interrupted.
You stop him halfway down the hallway and pull him into a dark room, flipping the light on when Stu comes in behind you both. It was a supply closet, a fairly large one, and Stu locks the door behind him as Billy pulls you in for a kiss. 
“Wait, wait, no,” You say, pushing away from him. He gives you a confused look, worried he had gone too fast too soon. “Can’t kiss; can’t fuck my stage makeup up.” He snorts, deciding to kiss your neck instead. Stu’s behind you, the two men trapping you in between their bodies.
Stu replaces Billy’s lips on your neck, nipping at your pulse and grinning against your skin when you moan. Billy is on his knees, working on getting your pants off. His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he yanks your jeans down and you hiss, goosebumps raising down your legs.
Your head rolls back against Stu’s shoulder as his hands slip up your shirt and past your bra, his fingers finding your nipples with ease. Billy groans as his finger dips past your underwear, gliding down your folds. “Fuck, Stu, man, they’re soaked.”
“Are they now? You into us or something, baby?” He coos into your ear, pinching at your nipple hard and you whimper loudly. Stu laughs, his breath hot against your skin, as Billy’s fingers begin to rub circles on your clit. You’re bucking into his fingers and you let out a particularly loud moan when he moves his hand off of you.
Your eyes pop open and Billy is right in your face, shoving his fingers, wet with your arousal, in your mouth. Stu grabs the bottom of your shirt and yanks it up, slipping it off of your body with ease. “Think you could use your mouth for something else?” Stu asks with a wicked grin. Rolling your eyes, you don’t take long to debate, sinking down onto your knees.
“Can’t do it for long, boys. Got twenty minutes before I need to be out there, so you better get to it.” Stu’s pants and underwear are long gone now and he’s fisting his cock right in front of you with an eager look in his eyes. You smile, replacing his hand with your own, and licking a long stripe up the underside of his dick.
His head rolls back and he lets out a low moan as your tongue swirls over his tip. “Fuuuck, Danny…” He goes to put his hand on the back of your head, wanting to force you to take him to the hilt, but he stops himself by grabbing ahold of Billy’s shoulder. “Their mouth, man. Shit, could make me cum already.”
Billy’s hand was on his own cock and he was focused on your face. You never took Stu in your mouth fully, never moving past wrapping your lips around the tip of him, and somehow he could tell it was the best blowjob Stu’s probably ever gotten. Save for him, of course. “Wanna feel that mouth of yours,” He says and you pop off of Stu, a glob of spit connecting you to him. “Can we fuck you?”
You hesitate before your hand wraps around his cock, pumping him slowly. “God, I wish. Like, you have no fucking idea how badly I want you two, but we have less than 15 minutes and if we do it I want it to last longer than that. How bout I help you two out and you help me?” Without waiting for an answer you repeat what you had just done to Stu.
“Holy shit,” He groans. He can’t take his eyes off of you or your hands or your lips. Everything about you was intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, hollowing your lips when you take him into your mouth. “Christ, Danny, your mouth feels so fucking good. Such a good whore for us.”
You moan around him and he gasps, barely stopping himself from slamming his hips further down your throat. Stu was jerking off next to him, eyes trained on you, and he threw his head back, calling your name. “Danny, fuck, gonna cum. Where, shit! Where can I?”
Pulling off of Billy you flash the two of them a wide smile and respond simply. “On each other.”
“Huh?” Stu’s eyebrows furrowed together slightly, his hand pausing in it’s movements. You lick your lips and they watch with wide eyes as your hand reaches down and slips past your underwear. Your eyes flutter closed, soft moans leaving your lips. Music to their ears.
“I, mmh. I said cum on each other, god, and then you can taste me.” That’s all the encouragement they needed. They turned towards each other but kept their eyes on you, the sounds of your pleasure mixing with their own. Billy was chasing his high, the thought of being able to delve into your cunt sending shockwaves through his body. 
Stu is the first one to cum, both your name and Billy’s falling from his lips as he thrusts into his hand. His cum coats Billy’s thighs and hands, adding to the slick of his own cock. Billy cums soon after and Stu takes a second to get on his knees and takes his dick into his mouth, taking him to the base. What can he say, he loved Billy’s dick.
“Fuck, that was hot,” You whimper, your eyes moving in time with the bob of Stu’s head. “Hurry up and eat me out, you got ten minutes. If you do good, maybe I’ll consider making this a regular thing.” Billy’s on his knees in a second, throwing your hand off of yourself and pushing you back onto your ass. You yelp as the concrete digs into your skin but the pain is quickly washed away, taken over by the pleasure of his tongue dipping through your folds.
He’s moaning at the taste of you, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading you wider, opening you up for him. His tongue focuses on your clit, switching between circling it to flicking it with the tip of his tongue, sucking on it every few seconds. Your hand tangles in his hair and you’re grinding down on his face when Stu’s fingers enter you.
He starts up a fast pace with two fingers, filling you so suddenly all you can do is cry out his name and roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Fuck! Please, shit, you both feel so good. Please, I’m close, please let me, please make me,” Your pleas’ urge them onwards, Stu’s fingers and Billy’s tongue speeding up. 
You cum hard, harder than you have in the past from just oral, and your body is convulsing with pleasure as they continue. They don’t stop until you practically collapse against the floor and even then Stu takes his chance to lick up your cunt, tasting you. “Mmm, you taste fucking delicious, babe.”
“You alright, Danny? We didn’t kill you, did we?” Billy asks and even with your eyes closed you know he’s smiling. You nod, take a deep breath, and stand up, your knees weak. Stu wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your neck while Billy helps you pull your pants back up, buttoning them up before kissing you on the lips. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”
Stu opens the door and peeks out, looking both ways before ushering the two of you outside. Billy runs a hand down your cheek, down your neck, and he tsks at the dark marks that were forming. “Stu! Asshole, you left hickies like a 15 year old.”
“They look hot with them!” He replies, giving you another sloppy kiss on the neck, and you laugh. You shove him off of you, brushing your clothes off and looking at them with a grin. 
“So… you guys staying after the show? I’d love to show you the green room.”
Billy grins, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, eyes dragging down your body. “For you? Hell yeah, we are. Can’t wait to see how hot you look with that makeup of yours running.”
110 notes · View notes
peach-skull · 3 years
Text
Forever yours
Forever yours
Tomura Shigaraki x Reader
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tags/TW
Unprotected sex, dry humping, pregnancy mention, cumming inside, childhood friends to lovers, facesitting, shiggy being his nasty self, no quirks au, fluff adjacent 
________________________________________________________________
You would get a turn once he died. That’s how it was: That’s how it had been ever since you two were children. Tomura rarely died in video games, so if you wanted a turn you either had to whine until he gave in or wait until he was too focused to notice you take it from him until it was too late. However, you weren’t interested in video games today. You were interested in him. In his soft blue hair, his long, slender fingers, his beautiful crimson eyes. You were head over heels for your best friend since childhood, Tomura Shigaraki. It was a terrible,  roiling mixture of puppy love and sheer lust. You wanted to go on long walks and hold his hand. You also wanted him to bend you over a table and fuck you until your legs gave out. 
“ Tomu.”
He didn’t answer you, too absorbed in his game to pay attention to anything else. You huffed and tapped him with your foot.
“Tomura!”
Shigaraki muttered something unintelligible and paused his game, looking at you over his shoulder.
“ What do you want, (Y/N)?”
Showtime.
“ I have, uh, a personal question for you”
He grabbed an energy drink and took a sip.
“ Just ask it already.”
You needed to ask this casually. Like you couldn’t care less about the answer. Just making friendly conversation.
“ You’re still a virgin, right?”
He choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering as he tried to think of an answer. Who just asks shit like that?! You better not be making fun of him.
“ That’s none of your goddamn business,asshole.”
Based on his reaction alone, he had to be. You shrugged casually and adjusted one of your thigh-highs, smoothing your pleated skirt once it was back in position. You had worn them especially for him: you knew him long enough to know what he liked.
“ I’ll take that as a yes. So am I. I want to lose it but like, with the right person y’know? Not some rando, or like, a boyfriend who’ll sour the experience if we break up.”
You have never used ‘like’ in a sentence so many times in your life. Or used the word rando. 
“ so I was thinking, wouldn’t it be way easier to do it with someone you already trust? Like a close friend . so what if we, Y’know, helped each other ou-
SLAM. before you could even finish your question, Shigaraki had moved from the foot of the bed to the headboard, straddling you with his hands gripping above your head. 
He loomed above you, a massive cheshire grin plastered on his flushed face.
“ You aren’t fucking with me, right? You’re being serious? You actually wanna fuck?”
You didn’t expect him to be so enthusiastic about it. You thought he would decline, or accept in a less...intense manner. He was panting and leering and- was he seriously drooling? As if to answer your question, a drop of spit landed on your chest. Maybe a keyhole sweater wasn’t the best thing to wear today. 
“N-no, I'm not messing around, Tomu. I-I want… I want to have sex with you.”
Tomura quickly laid on top of you, pinning you down and shoving his tongue into your mouth. You had never been kissed before.  You tried to keep up with him, but he was just so rough that it was difficult to do so.You put your trembling hands oh his shoulders and tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position. He snickered and began to grind against your lap, completely misunderstanding what you were trying to do. You pushed his face away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. 
“ Get off for a second, I need to move my legs.”
Tomura rolled his eyes but did as you said, crawling backwards on all fours. More of a scuttle, really. You lifted your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your string-tie panties.  You didn’t even get the chance to tell him to come back before he pounced, rutting against your covered pussy and latching onto your neck. You could feel the seam of his jeans rubbing on your clit as he frantically humped you. It felt better than you thought it would: his weight on you, the teeth on your throat, the grind of his hard cock on your aching sex. You were getting close to the edge already, moaning and grabbing onto his hoodie as you  tried not to finish.
“T-Tomura! Please slow down, I- ah! I’m- I don’t want to cum from kissing! Please, just s-stop for a second!”
Goddammit, he was so close. It hurt to pull away from the warm embrace of your thighs, but he grit his teeth and did it anyways. You had a point: cumming from dry humping alone was a little pathetic. Shigaraki sat back on his heels and surveyed the damage.
Your skirt was pulled up past your stomach. One of your thigh highs had rolled all the way down to your ankle and your neck was covered in bruises. The hole in the chest of your sweater had slipped, exposing the top of your nipples. You weren’t wearing a bra. Holy shit, you weren’t wearing a bra. You had waltzed over to his house and sat on his bed in thigh highs and a sailor skirt and one of those sweaters with a boob window and NO FUCKING BRA. Tomura jumped off of the bed and pulled down his pants without bothering to unzip them. As you stared at the absolute monster of a cock that your best friend somehow had tucked away just moments ago, you only had one question on your mind.
“ um, Shiggy?”
You only called him that when you were particularly nervous. Tomura tore off his hoodie, his shirt going along with it and threw them both on the ground.
“ Why the hell is your dick so goddamn big?!”
 He looked down at his crotch as if he had absolutely no clue that his cock was roughly the size of a coke bottle. He looked at you and shrugged.
“ No idea. It’s always been like this, can I fuck your tits?”
He had to be joking.
“What?!”
“ Can you give me a titjob? Please?! I’m really close! It’ll take like two minutes, I swear!
If you weren’t madly in love with this man, you’d put him and his stupid horse cock in a shallow grave.
“ Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec…”
He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him, grinning wildly.
“ Lay down over here and put your boobs on my lap. This’ll be great,I swear.”
Shit, why did he have to be so cute?! You grumbled about various grievances you had with your friend and his dopey smile and that scar on his lips and and his stupid fucking fat dick as you got off his bed and walked over to where he was sitting. You stood in front of him and took off your sweater, chucking it into his face.
“ I swear to GOD if you choke me with that thing, I’ll bite it off. No head-pushing, Understand?”
He just smiled and nodded his head rapidly. 
You turned around and took your skirt off, bending over afterwards to roll up the rogue stocking that had decided to slip. While you were busy trying to keep the damn thing from falling again, Tomura grabbed the strings tying your panties together and tugged, undoing the bows and yanking them off of you.
“HEY!”
He held the underwear up to get a closer look. They were white and (f/c) striped, with lace and a little bow on top. Absolutely adorable. He was going to add them to his collection when you weren’t looking,but he just couldn't resist pressing his face into the damp fabric and inhaling deeply.
Was this motherfucker seriously sniffing your panties right in front of you?! You snatched the cloth away from him and threw them across the room, safe from his nasty clutches. For now.
“ Heh, sorry about that (Y/N). You always smell so good, I couldn’t help myself.”
That really shouldn’t have made your stomach flutter the way it did. You laid on the bed, lowering your chest onto Tomura’s lap. He ran his hand down your back and slapped your ass, laughing when you yelped out of pain and surprise.
“ Raise your hips. I can’t have you doing all the work now can I?”
He lowered his hand past your ass, but his fingers couldn’t reach your clit, stopping a few centimeters short. He grumbled and leaned to the side, trying his best to figure out a position that would let him rub your clit and finger your dripping pussy at the same time and gave him the lap titjob he wanted. He might have miscalculated, but that couldn’t be: it looked great in the hentai he saw a couple weeks ago, so it should work just fine IRL!
“ Tomura, this position is kinda weird. I don’t think this is going to work the way you think it will.”
“ Yes it will! C’mon, just raise your hips a little more-”
You looked up at him as best you could from the awkward position on his lap.
“ You saw this in a doujin, didn’t you?”
After around five minutes of arguing about whether or not Tomura’s stupid position would ( or even could) work, you decided to take initiative by pushing him down  and sitting on his face. How else were you supposed to shut him up? 
“ Sorry, Tomu. This was the only way to get you to be quiet. Seriously, who the hell gets into an argument about hentai in the middle of a hookup? There’s a time and place for everything, dumbass.”
You drooled into your palm to make impromptu lube before wrapping your hand around the head of his cock, smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him off. You had never given a handjob before, but if the moans sending vibrations straight to your  core where anything to go on, you were doing a pretty good job. You grabbed the back of his head and ground against his face, giggling when his cock twitched.
“ C’mon, make me cum! Don’t you wanna get to the main event? I want you to rail me until I can't walk. Don’t you wanna fuck me, Tomura? Do you wanna slam that fat cock into my tight little pussy or not?”
He’d always been fun to tease, but never like this. There was a sort of power in it now: you had him right where you wanted him. Or so you thought.Shigaraki growled and grabbed your ass to hold you still. He was sick and tired of you always messing with him. Elbowing him during multiplayer games so he would mess up.Taking the last sip of his energy drink, not even thinking of the indirect kiss. Filling his room with the smell of your perfume after a day of hanging out and then just leaving him alone to masturbate to the thought of you. 
“ Aw, are you getting cranky, Tomu? I’m almo-”
He licked�� along your folds before getting to your clit. He drew slow circles with his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking harshly. He flicked his tongue over your clit, adding a maddening amount of stimulation to the already overwhelming act. You squealed and tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong. 
“ Oh fuck! It’s too much, I’m not gonna be able to - ah!- be able to focus on what I’m doing here!”
Tomura didn’t give a fuck about what you where trying to do. He cared about revenge. And if revenge came in the form of eating your pussy until you cried, then so be it. He had no plans of stopping : your bittersweet taste and your thighs squeezing his head was too damn good. He stopped sucking with a loud pop and shoved his tongue  deep inside of you. He didn’t have a lot of experience ( he had 0 experience) but he had heard enough stories from his more socially savvy friends to know that you were supposed to keep your hands, mouth, or toys on the clit at all times. Keeping this advice in mind, he rubbed his thumb over your clit.
This was ridiculous. How was he this good at eating pussy? He was supposed to be the same as you: an inexperienced virgin. Maybe all that porn he watched did some good. You had no idea. All you knew for certain was that if he got the upper hand, you’d never hear the end of it. Your efforts had slowed due to Shigaraki’s distraction. You gripped his cock harder and moved your hand faster. Tomura moaned and bucked his hips. With the amount of precum that was leaking out, he had to be close. 
He didn’t want to let you win, but your hand was making it impossible to focus. It was just so damn soft: nothing like his rough, calloused fist. Tomura had no idea how he was going to go back to his left hand after this. If your hand was this good, what was your cunt going to feel like? It really hit him then. He had been fantasizing about it for years, and now it was actually going to happen. He was going to fuck you. The mere thought of it caused the tension in his stomach to break, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his throbbing cock and landing on his torso. The look on his face was driving you insane: bright red, eyes rolled back in his skull, brows crinkled in a way you had always found adorable. You threaded your fingers through his hair with both hands and started desperately humping his face. You wanted to cum,needed to cum: you just wanted him to fuck you already. You had waited for years. You finally came with a wail, crushing his head between your thighs as you rode out the high of your long-awaited orgasm.
It took you several seconds to remember that your friend probably needed to breathe. You got off of him as quickly as you could on your trembling legs. 
  “ Are you okay, Shiggy? I didn’t mean to suffocate you: it just felt so good that I lost control…”
Shigaraki quickly sat up. He was doing great: just had the best nut of his entire life, got his head squeezed and his hair pulled, and he was going to lose his virginity to the girl he had pined over for nearly his entire life. How could he be doing anything other than amazing?!
“ I'm good.”
You looked at the mess all over his chest. How was it even possible to cum that much and still be hard? Was that just how much there always was? Did he need to see a doctor?
While the gears turned in your head, Tomura grabbed a shirt from the floor and wiped himself off, tossing the soiled fabric away once he was done. The sheer nastiness of that snapped you out of your confused state. You were about to say something when he beat you to it.
“ What position do you want to do?”
“Huh?”
“Y’know, like doggy, or cowgirl, or wheelbarrow-”
You didn’t think wheelbarrow was an actual position, but you really didn’t want to get into another argument right now. You were gonna call him out on it later, though.
“ I’d like to do missionary.”
Tomura nodded sagely. Missionary was a classic. A bit basic, but it would do.
“If you’re ready, let’s move on to the next level”
You nodded, too nervous to speak. He shuffled slowly towards you, hands shaking and arms outstretched. He needed to be cool about this: he came on a bit strong after your proposal earlier. You laid on your back and resisted the urge to cover your face with your hands. You had wanted this for such a long time, but he was just so big and he was seeing you naked and he was actually kind of muscular without his clothes on and- for fucks sake was he seriously drooling again?! 
Shigaraki quickly wiped the drool away from his mouth. You were just so beautiful. You looked scared,though-was it the drooling? He couldn’t help that! He started to scratch his neck- a habit that he just couldn’t seem to break. Even if it meant that he wasn’t going to get to have sex today, he needed to make sure that you still wanted this.
“ Are you okay? We can… we can stop i-
“NO! I mean- n-no, I’m fine. Just- just be gentle, okay?
Gentle. He could do that. Just go slow, don’t go in all the way, and probably no biting. Wait, didn’t he need a condom? It must not be that big of a deal if you didn’t bother to bring it up, right? Yeah, he could just pull out.
Tomura grabbed the base of his cock and lined it at your entrance before carefully pushing inside of you. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would: it just stung a little bit. You had expected ripping, bleeding pain before seeing his dick, and kind of assumed you would die after seeing it in all it’s terrifying glory. But no! You were alive and thriving.
Your partner in crime, however, was having a significantly harder time. Your pussy made his fleshlight feel like sandpaper in comparison: he considered burning the stupid peice of silicone after you two were done for being so inferior to the real thing. The fleshlight wasn’t this tight, or this warm, and it didn’t twitch like your pussy did. He honestly felt kind of bad for the times that he used it while thinking of you- not for jacking off to you or anything like that, but for using that piece of shit as a stand-in. It was insulting. Shigaraki figured that it probably wasn’t the best idea to put it in all the way in,but it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not just slam in balls-deep and fuck you into the mattress. 
….. Was he okay? There was a vein bulging on his forehead and he looked damn-near terrified. You were going to have to make the first move again. You put your hands on his waist and pulled him towards you until his hips were flush with yours. Despite the slow entrance, his cock hitting your cervix still knocked the air out of you. It hurt a bit more now, but not nearly enough to stop.
“ I-it’s okay Shiggy, it doesn’t hurt. You can move now..”
Tomura cautiously  pulled backwards a few inches and pressed back inside just as carefully. His first couple of thrusts were a bit awkward, but he soon found a slow, steady rhythm. 
You couldn’t believe how soft he was being. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your collar bone before moving to your breasts, licking your nipple before putting it in his mouth and sucking. His other hand was lightly caressing the opposing mound. It was all so sweet and tender that you almost wanted to cry: you knew that he didn’t feel the same way that you did. But for now, all you could do was stroke his hair and pretend that you were making love instead of just hooking up. 
“Mmmmn, T-tomur-ah!”
This wasn’t fair! He had liked you for years, you were gasping and moaning underneath him, but something unpleasant was still prodding at the back of his thoughts. After this, you were going to find some strong, confident man to take his place. This was just practice. Shigaraki didn’t want this to be practice: he wanted you to be his last. He wanted to be your only. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and started to thrust into you harder. He wanted you to be all his.
“ Mmmineeee...” 
Mine?! Did he just say “mine”?! Did he- did he feel the same way?! No, that couldn't be: you probably just misheard him.
“ um, w-what did you say?”
He snapped his head up and glared at you, his ruby eyes practically glowing.
“ I said mine! I want you to be mine! MY player two, MY pussy,MINE!”
With every repeat of mine he slammed into you a little harder, a little rougher.
“Come on, say it! Say you’ll be mine, (Y/N)!
You felt like such an idiot. Of course Tomura wasn’t going to say that he liked you- this was Tomura you were talking about. But he’d been showing it for years- walking you home, helping you win plushies at the arcade, dying on purpose so you would get a chance to play, giving you his hoodie whenever it was cold out…. How did you not notice? But he was never going to take the final step. So as per usual, it was up to you to take initiative. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled when he nuzzled into your touch.
“ I love you, Tomura. I’ve always been yours.”
He froze at your confession. Oh shit, did you go too far? Was the whole “mine” thing just his idea of dirty talk? Shigaraki pulled out  and moved backwards. Just as you were about to say something, he grabbed your knees and moved your legs up until they were above your head. Was he seriously going to just ignore what you just said?! You just told him that you loved him, for fucks sake!  Did all the blood rushing to his dick leave him braindead? 
Shigaraki knew the look on your face well: narrowed eyes, pursed lips, puffed cheeks. Impatient and suspicious. He’d better not keep you waiting,then. He positioned himself so that his cock was dangling above your exposed hole and leaned in close until you two were nose to nose. 
“ I love you too, (Y/N).”
With your confession returned, he slammed into your waiting cunt in one quick thrust, groaning as he was finally balls-deep inside of your warm,slick pussy. You squealed as he jackrabbited into your core with short, deep thrusts, hitting a spot inside that you’d never been able to reach. The headboard of the bed crashed against the wall loudly, creating a lewd orchestra alongside the squeaking of the bedsprings and your wanton moans. Tomura’s hair fell alongside your face in a soft curtain, making it so he was the only thing you could see. As if you’d look anywhere else.
“ I love you! I love you! I mean it, I love you! You’re gorgeous, you feel so good, I love you! I love you so fucking much! I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyou-”
You pulled your babbling lover into a deep kiss as the knot inside of your stomach snapped. Your convulsing walls squeezed his cock in a vice grip as you came, nearly sending him over the edge .
“ C-can I cum inside? I don’t wanna pull out! I swear I’ll take responsibility if you get pre- i-if anything happens! Please, let me cum inside of you!”
You could barely think through your haze, so you just nodded your head. Of course he could cum inside: where else was it supposed to go? He wasn’t wearing a condom after all… you probably should’ve made him wear one. Oh well. That was a problem for future (Y/N) to worry about. 
Tomura wrapped his arms around your waist and thrusted his hips one more time before  
Blowing his load directly into your womb, spurt after spurt of creamy white filling you to the brim, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he howled with pleasure.
“Hhhhhhhhh…. I love youuuu…..”
 He let out a contented sigh and flopped on top of you without bothering to take his cock out of your cum-filled pussy. He was too tired- he’d pull out after a nap. You were just as exhausted as he was- cleanup was just another issue future (Y/N) would have to deal with. You yawned and nuzzled into his neck before drifting into a peaceful, messy sleep. 
End
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I wrote this after a debate with @libiraki about who’s dick was worse: Shigaraki or Dabi’s. 
870 notes · View notes
keijislove · 3 years
Text
I hate you: Peter Maximoff X Reader
A/N: Never really written for marvel before... But I'm a big fan of X men and Avengers... Hope you like it!!!
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Anybody who knew you was probably aware that you were unusual. Of course you were unusual, you were a mutant. But even as a mutant you were admittedly weird. People were freaked out by you at Charles' school, no matter how hard you tried to make friends with them. And who should be the first person to approach you but the arrogant, annoying dickwad more commonly known as Peter Maximoff?
To say the boy had the biggest ego you'd ever seen was a complete and utter understatement. His head was so far up his own ass it honestly amazed you. And he was quick (like always) you figure out what annoys you most as well. Let's just say that someone stealing your textbooks and zooming off out of reach with them is not the most tolerable thing ever.
Yet here you were - not knowing how you'd gotten yourself into such a bizarre situation.
Raven was famous for her raucous end of semester parties for the kids and staff, but this one was worse thank you'd ever imagined. There wasn't a sober soul in this room and everyone, if not completely drunk, was tipsy. After hearing Scott declare you were to now call him Squidward for the rest of your life, you decided that you'd had enough.
You went out to the balcony, slowly sipping in your water, feeling more disgruntled than ever. To add to this wonderful evening, someone cleared their throat next to you, a very loud someone. Groaning internally, you turned around.
"Heyyyyy." Peter slurred, shooting you a grin that was admittedly adorable yet annoying.
"Hi." you curtly responded.
"You aren't inside with everyone else." he pouted.
"I like sober people, thanks." you muttered.
"You look so pretty tonight." he said, causing you to scoff, "Like you always do, but still. Pretty."
"If you're expecting me to say that you're pretty too then piss off, snowflake."
Peter giggled. This conversation was evidently going nowhere and you wanted to leave. But since you'd never seen him so tipsy, you decided to stay for blackmail material.
"I like coconuts." Peter declared.
"This is interesting." you smirked, "Wait till you're sober, Maximoff. I won't let you forget any of this."
"And this?" he asked.
You suddenly realised how close you were standing. Holy shit, you wanted to run away screaming. His breath was hot on your face and you got the distinct scent of alcohol which made you dizzy. Not knowing what the heck was going on, you suddenly felt his lips on yours. For a second, you closed your eyes. Then you remembered yourself and pulled away, gasping.
"I - you - no - what the -" you sputtered, flustered.
"I wanna sleeeeeeeep." he mumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder.
"Yes you do." you muttered, turning on your heel and walking away, stunned.
~~~~~
"So you're not gonna talk to him about it?" Jean asked you the following day as you confided in her.
"What? No!" you cried, "What for?"
"This looks bad, Y/N." Jean muttered, "You should talk."
"He wouldn't want to talk to me anyway." you snapped.
"Why not?"
"Because he is a first class arrogant bastard."
"Still-"
""He probably doesn't remember -"
But you stopped, catching sight of Jean's face which seemed to have gone momentarily an odd shade of green. You glanced, confused, at what caused this reaction and felt sickened yourself.
Peter Maximoff was striding across the lawn - not running, striding, with a furious look on his face. He spotted you and charged for you like an angry bull, not looking away.
"We - need - to - talk - NOW." he said in one breath.
"Can you talk? I didn't notice." you snapped.
"This isn't funny Y/N, I'm serious."
Well those were words you'd never expected him to say, let alone call you Y/N. Glancing at Jean for help, you wanted to smack her as she looked away. Helpless, you followed the silver haired boy across the garden into the building.
When you reached a secluded corridor, he cleared his throat.
"So, um, I uh.... I got drunk last night and... I said something..."
"Screw say, you did something as well." you glared.
"I don't really remember -"
"OF COURSE YOU DON'T!" you yelled, snapping at last, "WHY WOULD YOU REMEMBER KISSING ME AND THEN LEAVING LIKE AN ASSHOLE? WHY WOULD YOU REMEMBER MAKING MY LIFE HELL AND THEN TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME?!"
"I WHAT?" he yelled, shocked, "I kissed -?"
"Yes!" you yelled, "And if you're here to rub it in my face then fuck off!"
"I-I'm sorry."
Okay that was unexpected. Why the hell was he apologising? Why was he confusing you so much? Could he not give you a break?
"For WHAT?" you snapped.
"Frmoofndngtswy..." he mumbled.
"What?" you asked in spite of yourself.
"For you finding out this way," he muttered more clearly.
This was a dream right? Was Peter Maximoff blushing?!
"Find wha-?"
He cut you off by suddenly grabbing your jaw and slamming his lips onto yours with a passion so strong you had to melt against him. You broke apart seconds later, panting.
"I don't know if you noticed... But I like you," he shyly muttered.
You didn't know what to say and he continued, "I know that I've been a bit of a pain in the ass but..."
"I hate you," you muttered, "I like you too, dork."
A dorky grin spread across his face at your words.
"Also, you told me that you liked coconuts."
He groaned.
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Text
RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM II
TĒCTUS: Covered, concealed, hidden, having been covered, hidden or concealed
Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader
Warnings: +18, mature content
Editor: @thenightmareismyreality
Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @ava-valerie , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @cazxcx , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @bayley-no-friends , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox
Notes: I would like to thank @letsgivethisonemoreshot , for not only being my partner in crime with this trilogy but also being one of the best friends someone could ever have 😘 This is fully written in Damian’s POV. If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist
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Want to hear a joke that’s really in poor taste? The Mother Superior of the famous Mary Magdalene Convent (isn’t that ironic) is being accused of hosting ‘parties’ to the oh so loving convent donors. And you know who isn’t invited to those parties? Jesus Christ. Because the Devil sure loves to be a part of them! Drugs, orgies, alcohol, prostitution, even black masses... you name it! Everything that is unholy happens in the so-called house of holiness, and if that isn’t a bad taste joke, I don’t know what is.
So here I am now, driving towards the Devil’s den: the Mary Magdalene convent for three torturous days of interviews. Out of all of the reporters from The New York Times, of course I was the one who drew the short straw and got assigned this article. Some people see this as a career changing opportunity... a blessing, but me? I see it as a fucking curse! I don’t like religion, I don’t like churches, I don’t like priests and I sure as hell don’t like nuns! Anything that has the word “holy” in it, I prefer to be as far away as I possibly can from. But today was not my lucky day….no, today was the day that I was going to be tested. The only thing I’m hoping for is to not fail.
I knocked on the convent’s door and a young lady answered me.
“Hi, good morning. I’m Damian Priest, reporter from The New York Times and I’m here for an interview with” I looked down at my notepad “Mrs. Y/N L/N? Whom I believe is the Mother Superior”
The young girl only nodded once and motioned for me to follow her, without saying a word.
I followed her in, mesmerized by the size of the convent, the whole place was fancy as fuck on the inside. Art pieces from famous painters were displayed on the walls, modern furniture, dim lights that made the place look cozy and inviting. *What a scam* I thought to myself. The young lady in front of me suddenly stopped walking and pointed towards the door in front of her before turning around and leaving.
Presuming that it was the Mother Superior’s office, I knocked on the door twice before someone told me to come in. You see, when they told me I was going to be interviewing the Mother Superior of a convent, the last thing I expected was for her to not only be beautiful, but young (considering I was under the impression that women in that position were around sixty years old). She was breathtaking to say the least! Soft features, her skin had an angelic glow to it and there was something in her eyes that trapped you in them...something you could not turn your gaze away from no matter how bad you wanted to.
“Mr. Priest, please sit down” She smiled
I nodded and sat on the chair in front of her desk
“Thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to speak with me, Mother Y/L/N-“
“Please, call me Y/N” Her sultry voice spoke
“Y/N” I tested the word on my lips and it sounded oddly pleasant
She smiled softly and...fuck she’s gorgeous! Her beauty was a painful and constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, couldn’t touch, couldn’t-“
“Mr. Priest?” She said softly
“Damian”
“Damian, would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice, tea perhaps?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you” I answered, while grabbing my notepad and a pen out of my backpack. Clearing my throat, I said “Can we get started with the pre-interview?”
“Of course” She smiled widely and reached for a cigarette pack on top of the table, which made me raise an eyebrow
“We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we, Damian?” She asked, licking the cigarette filter before sucking it
*Am I going crazy?* I thought to myself
“Damian? Your first question is?” She giggled
“Ummm” I cleared my throat once again “Y/N, recently the convent was involved in a huge scandal involving drugs, prostitution, orgies and black masses. Would you like to clarify why an institution that’s deeply connected to the church is in the middle of something so profane?”
She grinned “God is in the most profane things, Damian. After all, the sinners are the ones who need Him the most, aren’t they?”
“I’m not sure if I follow-”
“You see” She took a long drag on her cigarette and walked towards me “God is our Lord and savior. He forgives us from our sins, grants us forgiveness to our most foul actions” She sat down on the chair beside me “If you steal from someone and repent; He’ll forgive you, kill someone and repent; He’ll save you, cheat on your wife with the hot, young next door neighbor and repent; He’ll brush it underneath the carpet and pretend it never happened” She shrugged “God doesn’t judge, Damian. He only forgives” She leaned forward on the arm of the chair, until she was uncomfortably close to me “So if the big boss himself doesn't judge anyone, then why should I?”
“And what does judgment have to do with drugs, orgies and sin?”
She smiled “How can God forgive you if you don’t sin, Damian?”
“And how can God forgive his so-called followers who incite others to sin, Y/N?”
“Incite others to sin?” She chuckled “Are you talking about the allegations, the donors or yourself?” She smirked
………………………………………………….......................
Since we’re so far from town I was informed that I would have to spend the night at the convent. They showed me my bedroom and it looked pretty fancy. King size bed, Egyptian sheets, expensive furniture. Everything was oddly normal, except for the weird dream I recalled having. I was at the convent, lost, calling for help because I somehow ended up locked in here. I was inside what looked like a large basement, the room was only lit by red lights, a faint smell of leather took over my nostrils as I heard someone moaning softly in my ear…a woman. And the weirdest thing was that I could’ve sworn I felt her breath against my ear. Needless to say I woke up with my dick as hard as a rock and had to spend a solid thirty minutes trying to get rid of a very painful boner, which did not leave me no matter how many times I came. Half hard and inside a convent...yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell!
“How did you sleep, Damian?” Was the first thing I was asked when I walked into the Mother Superior’s office in the morning. Something in her voice told me she knew exactly what I had done underneath the shower.
“Good”
“I bet you woke up feeling much better after a good night of rest, right?” She smiled devilishly and I just nodded
“Would you mind if we took a tour through the convent at some point?” I asked, quickly changing subjects
“Of course not! Let me know when you want one”
I nodded and began to ask my questions
“So, why do so many men keep coming and going from this convent? Seems like the place men shouldn’t be”
“The only men who come to the convent, Damian, are maintenance, the donors for the ‘thank you parties’ we host and now you” She smiled
“How do you get so many people to keep donating?”
“We don’t oblige anyone to do anything. People are still kind enough to see the work we do for those in need and they get touched by it. So God is the one who inspires them to donate, Damian. Not me”
“I’ve noticed a lot of fancy things here. Shouldn’t the money be going to something else?”
“The ‘fancy’ things you see are gifts from the donors. Things they felt in their hearts they should give us freely. We don’t buy things for the convent, apart from food. That’s one of the rules”
“Speaking of rules” I looked at her “Why are you smoking? Isn't that not allowed?”
“We don’t have rules against smoking here, Damian. The choice to do it or not is personal, but there are no rules for it. It’s not forbidden or a sin. Now, if you think nuns shouldn’t smoke, I suggest you pay a visit to the convents in Rome and give them a piece of your mind about their choices regarding health”
I chuckled at her comeback
“Why so cynical about our good intentions?” She licked her lips
“Because you don’t have any” I spat
“We live for helping those in need, Damian” She pointed towards my visible bulge
“Helping those in need, huh? And what do you get out of it?”
She walked towards me “Satisfaction in its purest form” She lifted one hand up and caressed my lower belly over my shirt “It’s incredible how much providing relief to others can trigger the biggest pleasure in our bodies...to see their eyes semi-closed in...relief is so rewarding to me”
I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “And just how needy do these people have to be?” I was speaking in financial terms of course
“Very needy” Her hand toyed with my jeans button “Some even have trouble sleeping due to their neediness, so you can see how a helping hand goes so well in this case...even the right mouth, you know to profess the Lord’s word”
“And just how many of these ‘charitable acts’ have you been involved with?” I felt my cock grow harder and harder
“Directly? Only when things get too hard, Damian” Her hand brushed against my hard bulge “That’s when I offer my help, so things can stop getting so hard and painful”
I gulped as I tried to shift away from her touch “So what, you just have all these other poor girls do your dirty work for you?” I try to keep my serious composure
“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Damian. The girls do what they can, what they’re instructed to...but sometimes things get so hard that I have no other option but intervene” She pulled the fly of my jeans down “Then, once the seed of evil is finally spilled, things can go back to being soft again” She leaned in closer “Would you like a demonstration, Damian? I’m sure you have some kind of evil inside you that needs to be released” She asked with a sinister smile reaching her hand into the waistband of my boxer briefs
“I’m just here for work, Y/N, I have nothing to donate”
“Don’t worry about it. My girls will not be involved in this...it will be our little secret”
“I would like the tour now, please”
She smirked “Of course” and stepped away from me “This way” She went out the door as if nothing had happened
“Psycho bitch” I whispered to myself, as I pulled the fly of my jeans up and tied my hoodie around my waist to cover up the boner.
“This way we have the nuns bedrooms” She pointed towards a hallway “Kitchen, restrooms, archives, laundry room, storage for cleaning supplies, pantry” She explained each room, until we were outside “The patio, garden; where we cultivate flowers, fruits and vegetables, garage and the chapel is this way”
She walked towards a medium sized chapel in the middle of the garden, it looked like a regular chapel on the inside. It had an altar with a bible on it, a pulpit, a big cross, devotional statues of catholic saints, wooden benches and a confessional. Candles were lit up all over the place and everything looked normal. Scarily normal, until I noticed a few nuns who were sat on one of the benches staring at me with a weird look on their eyes
“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Y/N
“Like what?”
“Like, with...” I trailed off
“With desire?” She whispered in a mocking tone
I looked down at her speechless
“One could say that you’re a little too obsessed with the lust theme, Damian” She smiled “It’s all you can think about ever since you got here, dear. You should be careful” She licked her lips and pulled me by my hand towards her office again.
………………………........................................................
Later that night while I was trying to get some sleep, I began to hear some mumbling. Muffled voices kept saying something unintelligible and filling up the bedroom with mainly female voices. But one of the voices sounded too familiar to me...
I stood up from the bed and began to search in the room where those voices could be coming from, and as I almost gave up, I found it. A small hole of the size of a coin, in the concrete wall in front of my bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I knelt down and peeked through the hole, but weirdly enough, the room was pitch black. The mumbling started again and they soon became moans. Above all the moaning voices, one stood out to me. It was Y/N’s voice, she moaned softly while she said something I couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was filled with lust, her moans were pornographic and I could swear she was moaning my name. It both frightened and turned me on, so I did what any wise man would do. I returned to the bed, laid down and jerked off before falling into a deep slumber.
..................................................................................
“Wake up” Someone softly whispered in my ear
I quickly opened my eyes and my heart was beating at a frantic pace due to the fright.
A young girl was sitting down on my bed “Please, follow me” was all she said before standing up and leaving my room
I was so confused that I didn’t even bother to grab a t-shirt, so I just followed her down the hall barefoot and only with a pair of sweatpants on. Looking outside the hallway windows, I could see that the sky was still dark, which could only mean it was the late hours of morning.
She took me inside the laundry room and pressed a button underneath the folding clothes table. A door opened and a red light lit up the dark wooden stairs. I continued to follow her down the stairs, and we began to walk down a long hallway that looked more like a basement. The whole place had only red lights as the lighting source, so it took my eyes a while to get used to it.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but only received silence as a response
We walked for what felt like ten minutes until we reached a black wooden door with an iron door knocker. She knocked on the door four times and left.
“Is this a prank?” I asked myself, after five minutes of standing there alone. Suddenly the door opened, but I couldn’t see anything other than darkness ahead
“Hello?” I called from the doorway, but no one answered back
The thing that made me such a great reporter was my utter curiosity, and even with all my senses screaming ‘don’t go in there!’ I decided to listen to my curious side instead, and went into the room. As soon as I stepped a foot inside, the door behind me closed shut.
The room was pitch black and I stumbled across a few items. I placed my hand on top of what felt like a table so I could try to guide myself through the room, at least back to the door again so I could leave. When suddenly I felt several pairs of soft hands on my torso pulling me back.
“What the fuck?” I gasped in shock
But before I could make a move, my wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden surface and a red light turned on in the room
Five nuns were in front of me, staring silently at my body
“Leave” Someone said from behind me, and the nuns obeyed and left
“I would be lying if I said you weren’t a beautiful sight” Y/N said, and and walked in front of me
“You psycho bitch” I growled and pulled at the restraints “Let me go!”
She smiled “Oh Damian...You don’t want that!” Her nails softly scratched my lower belly “And neither do I”
“You’re sick! Let me go, you fucking-“
“Na ah” She slapped me across the face “I’m done playing these pretending games” She lit up a cigarette “Pretend you didn’t jerk off to my moans, pretending you don’t want to fuck me...that gets tiring” She dipped her hand inside my sweatpants and found my semi hard bulge “You’ve wanted to fuck me ever since you laid eyes on me” She giggled and I licked my dry lips
“Those sinful, filthy, thoughts you’ve had, Damian” She closed her fist around my erection “You wanted to know what we do here, right? We purge that demon out of you” And scooted closer until her lips brushed against my own with every word she spoke
“We send him away, so he can’t bother you anymore” She freed my cock from my pants and began to pump her hand up and down “We release you from the seed of evil”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I panted
Y/N knelt down in front of me and darted her tongue out, licking my slit “Give me the seed of evil, Damian” and gave an open mouth kiss on my tip “Feed me with it” Licked the underside of my shaft “Release yourself from what’s been bothering you ever since you got here” Darting her tongue out “Use me to purify your soul” And opened her mouth wider.
At such a sight I had no other option but to buck my hips forward…
And chase for my cleansing
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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
Text
Five Shades of Hunnam
President • King • Captain • Pilot • Gentleman
Part 1 | Part 2
A/N: Here’s Part 2 of this crazy filthy fantasy of getting gang-banged* by five versions of Charlie!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Part 2 is written based on the results of this poll asking which Hunnams y’all would prefer in each hole 🤪
Pairings: Jax Teller + King Arthur + Will Miller + Raleigh Becket + Raymond Smith ... x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, gang bang* (5 on 1), *NOT gang r*pe – fully consensual, reader enjoys getting ravaged in all of her holes 🙃 Request: Kinkfest request from @itsme-autumn
Word Count: ~3.3k
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GIFs by misterhunnam | hunnamsource | charllehunnam
... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]
“Tell me, baby. Do you want us to treat you like a lady...? Or whip out all five of our cocks and just go fucking crazy?”
The fact that Jax Teller is here in your room—standing among four other men just as stunning as him, all in the form of Mr. Charlie Fucking Hunnam—the fact that Jax just said that to you... is honestly too hot to be true.
What the hell are you supposed to say to that? Supposed to do...?
You’re soaking wet and need them bad. So horny you feel fucking dead. You want to speak and yet you can’t. King Arthur has Excalibur in hand; the way you’re feeling right this instant, hurts as if that goddamn legendary sword stabbed you straight through.
With fire in his eyes of icy blue, Jax takes a few bold steps toward you. Your gaze falls to his crotch on impulse, and it’s clear from the bulge in his jeans... he’s extremely well-hung. So damn thick. So damn long. So damn big it’s obscene. It’s not as if you’re shocked—Jax Teller always walked and talked like someone with a massive cock—but still, just seeing... is believing like fuck. Plus he’s hard as a rock.
“C’mon, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue...?” he taunts, not ashamed to whip out a ridiculous pussycat pun. It’s so painfully dumb, but when Jax Teller says it... you basically cum. He’s a devilish dick of a dom, and he loves to flaunt it. “Bet that pussy could use some tongue on it. I mean, if you’d want it.”
Oh Goddd—you cannottt... that shit is just too fucking much, to be honest.
Thankfully Captain Will is behind you to catch your full weight, as you literally start to faint. And the feel of his touch on your skin has you falling all over again. Your poor cunt is in pain. So horny it’s insane, short-circuiting your brain.
But you’re still wide awake and conscious, well aware of just how fucking bad you want this. Every man in the room.
Will reads your mind, now as he holds you from behind. Chuckles sadistically against your ear and it’s fucking divine. “Mmm, maybe if we make her cum... then her brain will be able to function and send us all home.”
“To hell with going home,” Arthur mutters, clearly turned on at the sight of you all hot and bothered. He may be nobler than the others, but he was brought up in a brothel after all and has never denied where he came from. “I swear there’s no woman so fair in all my kingdom...”
“Nor in my dimension,” Ray seconds. “Y/N—ever since we stepped in, I’ve been dying to mention that you are delightfully hot.”
Raleigh smolders, tension in his beefy broad shoulders. The king and the gentleman... aren’t they supposed to be decent like him? Now apparently they just forgot?... “But I thought—”
The President abruptly interrupts. While Will surrounds you from behind, blowing your mind, Jax comes up front. Fucking you up, his words setting a bomb off in your cunt. “Y/N just has to tell us what we all already know she wants.”
And then somehow, you finally summon the words to your filthy whore mouth. Still unable to fathom how you got so lucky. There’s only one way to respond—so you say it now. Say it loud, slutty and proud. “I want... I want you all to fuck me. All at once.”
***************
.
.
.
And so it goes.
You and five versions of Charlie Hunnam, all here in your room, are all ready to burst and give in to your dirtiest thirsts.
First things first: you need Jax Teller’s cock in your throat, and he already knows. He can tell, all too well—and he smirks, hot as hell, because he is the worst. You’ve been so fucking eager to suck off this fictional character ever since you started watching his show.
Now he’s not at all fictional, though. You still cannot believe this is real, and just how good it feels... to know just what’s in store, as you give into all of your instincts to kneel, sinking fast to the floor... that you are actually about to blow the President of SAMCRO.
“Mmm...” the tall blonde biker hums, clearly pleased, as he watches you fall to your knees, reaching now to rip open his jeans like a cheap fucking whore. Jax’s cocksucking hoe. “There we go. Look at that slutty little mouth of yours. Go on and show me what it’s good for.”
Fuck yes, sir. But you’re too breathless now to use your words to answer, as Jax Fucking Teller’s cock is out, so big and hard and proud... a goddamn pillar of perfection...
And you are not about to waste a second, worshiping the President’s erection with your filthy little mouth.
“Unghhh....” he grunts, as you set to work right at once. The sound of his guttural groan starts a flood in your cunt, soaking up while you slobber all over his dick, focusing on the tip. Servicing him with your tongue and lips, loving it more with each lick. Slurping up every sweet drop of precum as it drips.
He is so delicious. You could go on forever like this, as if you and Jax are the only two souls who exist. But you’re not—and the fact that four other versions of the same man are watching right here in this room... just the thought, of five shades of Hunnam, five flavors of your favorite sex god... is so fucking hot.
The truth is that they’re not just here to watch, while you bury your face in Jax’s crotch. They’re here to touch. They’re here to fuck. They know that you want all five of their cocks. You’ve never wanted anything so much.
And just your luck... they want you too. These five versions of Charlie are incredibly turned on by you, though it seems too good to be true.
All of a sudden, you feel hands upon your skin as someone hoists you off the floor. King Arthur has just set aside his sword, stripped off his shirt—oh God, his chiseled muscles are so hot, so hard it hurts—and flings you easily over his shoulder like a little fucktoy whore.
“The fuck—” the President protests as your mouth slips off of his cock, with a loud pop, once the king swiftly lifts you up. Jax was not at all set for this blowjob to stop. He wants more of this mind-blowing head. “What the... I wasn’t done yet...”
“Did you not hear what Y/N said?” Arthur reminds him, as he carries you across the room and throws you down onto the bed. The way he effortlessly handles you like that... you’ve never been so wet. “The lady wants all five of us at once. You took that pretty little mouth of hers—such a sweet hole to fuck—but there are others. Now it’s time for her to take a royal cock. Give her exactly what she wants. I’m gonna lay claim to her cunt.”
Then he attacks you with a fierce animalistic grunt, tearing his leather pants away to free his meat, and ripping off your clothes as well to make sure that you feel all of his heat. His feral dominance is everything you need. The way he grabs and gropes your tits, with one of his hands... while the other reaches down to stroke your clit... holy fucking shit. You seriously can’t. It’s more than you can stand.
“You think you own that cunt?” Jax comes to butt in, all of a sudden. “Think just ‘cause you’re king you can do what you want? Well, think again. I said I wasn’t done.”
The President then reaches right under Arthur, before things can go any farther. Grabs you by the shoulders to pull you up into a better position. Like every inch of you belongs to him.
Both of these men are just manhandling you at their whim, and it feels like heaven to be sinking into such a state of submission.
The king of England and the king of Charming end up grappling for dominance for a few moments, until their struggle is cut short by a quick interruption: the captain. He’s sick of this childish behavior from them. No matter the problem, Will Ironhead Miller can always propose an efficient solution.
“Cut the bullshit—it’s not rocket science, you idiots,” he says as he tells the men how to best handle their business. “Look: Y/N sits on the king’s cock, then biker boy stands at the side of the bed, so that she can lean over and give him head.”
His suggestion is met with a pause.
Jax is first to break it, while you lie on the bed wet and naked. Glaring alpha male daggers at Ironhead, chest proud and puffed. “What, you think you’re the boss?” he indignantly scoffs.
Arthur huffs, his own ego a little bruised too. But then poses the question to you, his voice all at once tender yet rough. “That sound good to you, love?”
You cannot help but swoon at the word he just called you. How is it he’s so fucking hot, yet so cute...? Your head bobs in a dumb speechless nod; it’s the most you can do.
“Yeah, ‘course it does,” the captain confidently gloats, as you settle into the perfect position that he had proposed. Take the king in your cunt and the President deep in your throat. “Just what she loves. Dick in her mouth and her pussy. Especially because this leaves her pretty little ass ready for me.”
You could honestly die at the thought—that sounds painfully hot...?!? And so dirty... you’ve never once taken two dicks in two holes, let alone three in three... but goddamn do these men make you thirsty.
The second you sit down on King Arthur’s cock... your world is fucking rocked. He’s so epically big—just the same size as Jax’s enormous dick—speaking of which, you go straight back to being the President’s cocksucking bitch. Jax grabs you by the head from where he is standing at the side of the bed, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he feeds you his huge cock to suck. Your face will always be his to fuck.
And you still can’t get over your luck.
“Such a good little cockslut,” Jax snickers at you as he swiftly shrugs out of his kutte. Then the flannel beneath, knowing that looking up at his broad sculpted chest and his firm rippled abs is exactly what you want and need. You take his dick deeper this time around, gagging on his massive meat, gulping every inch down, and he’s so long and thick that it feels like your jaw fucking broke.
It feels so goddamn good to get wrecked, especially now with the words he says next. “You like the way I own this filthy little throat? God, you’re filthy as fuck. Taking my dick so good. Bet you can’t wait to swallow my load. That’s it, slut. Suck that cock till you choke.”
His dirty talk is so hot you can’t even cope. You used to imagine it back when you were just a fan of his show—now it’s actually happening though, and it’s more than your inner fangirl ever hoped.
And of course, it’s the instant your eyes roll back into your head, as both Arthur and Jax fuck you up on your bed, till you’re ready to burst... that the captain decides to step in and take full control, over another hole. If you thought taking two cocks at once was already the best and the worst, nothing could have prepared you for taking a third.
But the truth is you love how it hurts.
Having Jax Teller fucking your facehole all sloppy and juicy, while King Arthur slams his royal scepter into your soaking wet pussy, and Will Miller shoves his brutally big dick in your tight little ass, taking your cheeks in his tight grasp and dishing out punishing slaps... it feels like all your dreams are coming true at last. Literally cumming true at that. God, it feels so fucking good to be so fucking bad. It’s by far the best sex you have ever had. Satisfying all your sluttiest thirsts.
And as if shit could get any hotter... you’d almost forgotten that there are two others.
Two other equally beautiful versions of Charlie: the savage yet soft-spoken gentleman Ray, and the soft-hearted fighter pilot Raleigh.
You don’t even have enough holes in your body for all of them. Not sure whether and how you can handle another two Hunnams. But hot damn are you happy to tackle that problem.
As Jax and Will and Arthur keep railing you harder, filling you in every way you want... you hear another voice from nearby in the room. All at once cool and classy, yet naughty and nasty. It has to be Raymond. “Well now, who knew that this lovely woman... would turn out to be such a kinky fucking cunt.”
Ughh, fuck—you moan desperately all around Jax’s cock, the only way that you can respond. Who knew? No one. You didn’t even know it, till this moment. But now all five shades of Hunnam do. Their presence in your room has definitely brought it out of you.
At the gentleman’s words, the President flashes a smile and a sadistic little chuckle. All the while keeps on ruthlessly ravaging your filthy little fuckhole. Driving his dick into the back of your throat till it hurts. Till your slobbering tongue and your bottom lip smush up against his big balls. Addresses Ray as well as Raleigh, who is standing quietly along the far wall. “Tough luck for you all, but this bitch is fucking full. Too bad she’s only got three holes...”
“She’s got two hands, though,” Ray points out, coming toward you now, his footsteps so deliberate and slow. “What do you all reckon they’re good for...?”
Oh, good Lord...
“Stroking? Squeezing...?” he asks, reaching to take one of your hands in his dominant grasp. Wrapping your fingers tight around his throbbing shaft. You cannot even anymore. Just cannot even... “Mmm, it seems to me that Y/N summoned up five Hunnams for a reason. To be used up like a proper fucking whore.”
Three cocks have swiftly turned to four, and you can feel poor Raleigh bolting toward the door. This filthy business goes against his soft, pure heart. He’s never witnessed—let alone dared to take part—in such a hardcore pornographic scene as this...
But here he is. And can’t deny that he’s rock fucking hard, as you can tell from one quick glance, out of the corner of your eye, at the massive bulge in his military pants. And you’ll be damned before you let that pretty boy pilot escape from this. He fucking can’t. You need two cocks in your two hands.
“Don’t pussy out on us like that,” Will masterfully commands, beckoning Becket toward the bed. “You know we’re all just Y/N’s guests; this is her universe. So we’re just... here to satisfy her thirsts.”
And then he grabs hold of your shoulders, to anchor himself as his thrusts in your ass become faster and bolder, which ends up pushing your head deeper down in Jax’s crotch. Slamming into you like it’s his job. And it’s too fucking much. Fucking you the fuck up.
But you don’t ever want it to stop.
Raleigh seems reluctant to abide by Will’s orders. But something compels him to do as the captain said—come toward the bed, like a good little soldier. “You guys are the worst...”
“No, far from that,” Arthur replies with a filthy laugh, as he keeps on splitting your wet pussy in half with his majestic staff. “This may look bad, but how it feels...? Fucking unreal. Quite honestly the fucking best.”
Oh God fuck yes...
You can sense Raleigh coming closer toward the bed with timid steps. Can feel his captivated blue gaze watch your body as it bounces on the mattress. You’ve lost track of who’s thrusting the hardest, the fastest. It’s all just a beautiful big fucking mess...
“Now let’s see if the fifth cock is as big as all the rest,” Jax playfully suggests. “See if this dirty little slut can take us all at once. Just like she wants. Let’s put our fucktoy to the test.”
“Fine, if you all insist,” the pilot yields at last. “But only ‘cause she wants it. Honest.”
“Just shut up and let her get her hands on it,” Raymond grunts, frustrated and impatient, until Raleigh finally gets in position.
And once it happens—once you wrap your fist around his rock hard cock, getting completely fucked, by five versions of Hunnam all at once... it’s even better than you had ever imagined.
You eagerly jerk both men off, all while the other three keep ravaging you good and hard and rough. You feel so full, in all your holes, and more, down to your deepest core. Your inner whore. This is exactly what you live for, what you love. And you won’t ever get enough.
By the time all five Hunnams are ready to soak you in their fucking cum—which happens at the same time for all of them, since apparently they’re somehow in unison, being all versions of the same person from different dimensions... by the time that happens, you’ve already lost count of your own orgasms.
This whole session, for your slutty ass, has just felt like one epic extended climax. Will and Arthur pounding into you in a perfect rhythm, from the front and the back, while you jack off Raleigh and Ray, all while gagging on Jax... you could do this all day every day. And there’s no other way for your body and soul to react.
You’re nothing but a fucktoy for five shades of Hunnam and that is a fact.
As the three sex gods buried balls deep in your holes fill them up so deliciously full, the other two drop their loads all over the cheeks of your ass and the curve of your back. And you’re having an absolute heart attack. How is a mere mortal bitch supposed to survive this...? Your brain is blown to bits. At this point it’s an actual struggle to even exist.
But you’re a shameless whore, just desperate for another hit. For fucking more. Of all the countless possibilities of five versions of Charlie in your three holes and two hands... all you want is to try literally every combination, and then once you’re done, just repeat them again and again and again.
It is literally raining men. Not just any men—five incarnations of your fucking sex god obsession. All five of them are living breathing perfection. Wrecking you till it hurts, till you burst, fulfilling all your thirst, in every way from every direction.
So maybe eventually you’ll have to send them back to their respective dimensions...
... But till then? You will sure as hell make the most of this mind-blowing multiverse blessing. Maybe if the sex keeps on being this epic they won’t even dream of leaving. Just won’t even...
And you’ll be more than happy to host them forever in this dimension. Can’t imagine any damn thing better than five incarnations of Charlie, right here fucking you in your bedroom. Because honestly, five shades of Hunnam... are five shades of heaven.
***************
Okayyyyy so I know this was FUCKING INSANE FILTHY SHIT but I hope there are some kinky bitches out there who enjoyed it! And would love to hear if you did!! 🤪
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