#and is described to have blue bulging eyes

[jaegerbby]

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

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[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #commissioned work #ko fi commissions #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #lifeguard au #beach au #simon ghost riley

[smuttyaf]

The Camster Couple

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰.

wc: 5k

spanking, choking, degradation and rough sex.

It all started on the blue app with the lowercase ‘t’ in the middle. Posting seductive selfies to revealing videos, you built quite the following from these appearances.

Admirers began requesting specific posts to ache their thirst. First it was particular lingerie sets, then prolonged videos touching yourself, soon it escalated into you role playing for the naughty viewers. Reciting everything the strangers would describe on how they’d like to use and abuse you.

But even after fulfilling all those demands, still came the bombarding questions of wanting more.

The requests to become a cam girl started to pour in. The constant debate down your feed about which website you should join. Maybe Chaturbate or Cherry.tv? No… Those weren’t good enough, but you still had time to ponder the idea.

Doing live shows had its advantages and drawbacks. For one, you’re getting paid to touch yourself, your revealing photos and videos will finally have a price on them. But, that doesn’t overshadow the dispute that your face could possibly be shown for everyone to see. You were fearful that maybe co-workers, friends, or even family might find out. However, the conflicting contrast that made you excited was the option to receive gifts. Followers had the ability of viewing your wishlist on certain cam-sites. It gave them the option to go beyond just tipping the model, but appreciating her even more… honestly that feature alone made you like the idea of doing it. But, the one major obstacle that really hinders your decision is your boyfriend; the one who doesn’t know about your second life.

That’s why you find yourself here right now, lounging together in your bedroom with your teeth grinding in your ear. Your eyes flick towards him when running your finger on the notepad; clicking on the search bar, you immediately type in the link to your blog. The familiar desktop background appears making you scroll through a few post till you turn your laptop towards Harry.

“Look at this.” His attention turns towards you placing it on his thighs.

You gaze at him while his fingers press down on the arrow key to move the screen further. “What do you think?” You ask. Warmth spreading throughout your cheeks as you let your hand rest along your stomach fiddling nervously with your tank top.

“I think you want me in trouble,” Harry smirks. He goes to pass the laptop back however you halt his movements.

With nervous smile adorning your lips, his expression transitions into one of confusing eyes, questioning your behaviour.

“I think you need to look closer.” You insist, finger dragging down the notepad. He scoffs, sight trailing back to the pictures on the fuzzy screen.

Harry doesn’t even listen at first, letting himself look over your unopened tabs that range from PrettyLittleThing to Xvideos. The glimpse of porn sites didn’t faze him, what does are the tabs that read “Most profitable webcams sites?” and “Best webcam site survey.” Bushy brows lock together, his attention going back to the revealing pictures of… hold on, that looks like your lingerie set… and that beauty mark right there belongs too.

His head snaps, mouth opening slightly with chest beginning to rise with nerves. He wants to be upset, wants to shut the laptop and demand answers but the growing bulge in his pants directs him otherwise, because as much as he should be angry right now that his girlfriend of eight months was taking provocative pictures of herself to upload on the internet, he was aroused.

“Since when?” Harry mutters, swallowing hesitantly. His gaze going between you and the picture of your chest displayed on the screen.

The look on his face is giving you anxiety. Heart pounding in its cage. You’re back to biting down on your bottom lip, diverting your attention to the highlighted keys.

“It’s been two years…” You mumble, finding the bottom of your laptop more interesting in this moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug your shoulders. You didn’t have a reason, you never thought your pictures would blow up and gain so much traction And you never thought you would get bombarding comments about wanting to see more of yourself. You groan, taking your finger away from the machine and running them through your hair, dramatically slouching your body into the bed frame.

“If you want to break up with me I totally understand.” You say, words muffled from your face burying into your crewneck. That makes a hearty laugh leave the brunette, the feeling of his hands gliding up your thigh stirs your head to peek up.

“Baby relax,” He reassures. Blinking at him you nestle deeper into his touch, shifting your body into him as the redness in your face begins to subside.

“You’re not mad?” You question, fiddling with your bottom lip. The thundering in your ear quiets down as you don’t see the angry face of your boyfriend appear. He lets out another light laugh, shaking his head and looking at you in a way that makes you sigh with utter relief.

“I —I’m definitely surprised… and a little upset… I mean you’re my girlfriend and you’ve been posting these but…” He looks between you and the laptop, his lips squeezing into his cheeks before breaking out into a sneaky grin. “You’re so sexy baby, I really can’t be mad.” He reveals, finger pinching your thigh.

The answer causes you to lean forward, arms linking around his shoulders as you press heartfelt kisses across his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry! I know, I know, I should’ve told you but… I was too scared and I’ve been doing this before I met you and… I just didn’t know what you would say,” You rant between kisses, his lips curling into amusement. The warmth of his hands run over your spine comforting you.

“Baby. Relax.” Harry replies, the tone of his voice settling your excited nerves. You quiet down, placing one last kiss on his cheek before looking up at him with shy eyes. “I’m not mad, just wish you told me earlier.” You nod at him pleasantly with smile set on your features.

Your breath draws in slowly with the quiet hum of the laptop sounding in the space. And just like before when you were nervous telling him about your promiscuous account online, you’re back to the bubbling feeling having to tell him the new escapade on your schedule. Clearing your throat, you raise up, licking over your bottom lip and locking your gaze with his.

“I do have one more thing though…”

Harry shakes his head playfully, smirk tugging along his features as he rubs your covered flesh in his palms.

“You want to be a cam girl?” He interjects. Stomach quivers with eyes fluttering in shock, you question were exactly he even got that idea or was it obvious. “It’s in your tabs babe.” Harry continues. Your cheeks go back to burning in embarrassment as you nod your head.

“Yes I want to do that but also…” His brows rise, surprised there is more to the story. “I want to do it with you.”

His features soon resemble yours with burning skin and body shifting under your weight. To your amazement he leans in, lips pressing against yours in a teasing kiss. The racing in your heart relaxes. You really had the best boyfriend in the world.

With the fondness of his lips against yours you pull away, cheerful smile shining as you hum with happiness.

“So… yes?”

Plaid pink skirt with embroidered bralette reflects across the screen as comments fill the message board.

You giggle at the viewers appreciating your half naked appearance. Thanking the many who are tuning in for your first show.

The sound of the sink cutting off in your adjoined bathroom rings through the space, it only makes you smirk at the events about to happen.

“I did say I have a surprise for my opening night.” Black letters roll in questioning the news. “I thought I would do it with a special someone.”

Harry’s footsteps sound through the room when he moves his way towards the bed. His hands going to your calves hanging off the frame and playfully tugging you down. It causes a smile to spread on your lips as you kick him away.

“Let’s start shall we.”

You adjust the frame of your laptop so it can hide Harry’s face as he slips in behind you. His fingers gracefully falling on your hip as you adjust to make space for him on the bed.

“I think they’re jealous.” Harry says, head leaning in to look at the comments reacting to him.

You watch his expression change as his eyes rake over the messages; jaw clenching with lips pressed tight together. You can tell he wasn’t pleased with whatever people were saying.

“I have to agree I’m mad too,” He responds to someone. Your face twists in confusion. “She’s been a bad little girl, hasn’t she?” His hand on your hip massages your skin roughly as you register his words.

“Not only deceiving you all, but me as well. So naughty not telling her boyfriend about what she does online.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you turn towards the screen with glint of happiness in your eyes. You know what mood Harry is in.

“She deserves a punishment, doesn’t she?” The hand on your hip leisurely glides into your scalp and grips it in his palm. Your head jerks back while his gaze is still caught on the computer; not even paying attention to what he’s doing.

“I think they’re starting to like me now.” Harry smirks, his other hand going to your breast and gripping it roughly.

The devious tone in his voice makes you whimper, eyes peering up at the ceiling as you let him grope your skin. Fingers transition from kneading it in his palms to twisting your nipples through the thin material.

“Yes, she’s been a very bad girl.” His digits pull away to slap your breast making you cry out. The sound you elect causing him to pull your head back once again, his body shifting from behind to gaze over your expression.

“Such a liar.” He says, eyes peering down as you look at him with pleasure written all over your face.

“You like being a liar, don’t you.” His hand meeting your skin again to pierce another smack against your tits. “Speak!” He orders, adding another blow.

“Yes sir.” You mutter, looking into his forest eyes and biting down on your bottom lip as he places one final slap to your skin.

“Tell me what you are.” Harry says, jerking your head, it makes you flutter your lashes up at him.

You’re too caught up between his freshly washed hair falling over his forehead and chest displaying his tattoos, that you don’t recall him demanding you to answer him again. His biceps flex when he lands another blow against your skin to knock you out of your daze.

“I’m a bad girl.” You tremble. His lips turn into a devilish grin. Hands roaming over your reddening skin.

“Mhm…” Harry hums with eyes searching your overwhelming appearance. “Across my legs.”

He relaxes his hold on your hair, letting you rise up on the bed to comfortably lay across his thighs. Your backside perched itself in the air. The ends of your skirt revealing your bare heat as his hand that once laid marks across your skin rubs against the material of your clothing.

“They’re calling you a dumb slut,” His hands go under your skirt to feel over your ass roughly. “I think I agree.” He smacks the flesh making you chew down on your bottom lip.

“Do you think you’re a dumb slut?” Harry taunts with another mark against your ass.

The atmosphere is influenced with pure lust from each swift, assertive motion of his palm lying roughly into your skin. Harry’s not even waiting for you to answer, he’s just placing blow after blow amongst your cheeks in pure arousal. The sheets underneath his hold ruffles against your body with each thrust.

You bite down harder into your bottom lip, fingers curling into the duvet as your eyes roll in hunger at the furious slaps causing hues of red blossoming under your skin.

“Dumb slut doesn’t know how to answer,” Harry cracks another heavy smack against your ass. High pitch whimper breaks through your lips when you jump at the action.

“Baby,” You cry but that only beckons another sharp slap.

“What’s my name?”

“S —Sir. I’m sorry sir.” You apologize for the mistake as his thundering smacks blaze across your skin.

“Dumb little fuck toy,” One hand leaves your cheeks and trails back into your hair. He’s tugging the strands so you can turn towards the laptop completely.

Catching sight of yourself in the camera your face is blazed red, lips bitten with tears brimming your eyes from the pain and pleasure coursing through your veins. The viewers are seeing you at your most vulnerable. Being taunted with bruises and degrading words, just for you to apologize to the one haunting your skin with waves of pain.

“Say it, say “I’m a dumb little fuck toy”,” Harry gloats. You can see in the view of the laptop his smirk as it’s the only feature that reveals his face. The palm of his hand makes another moan slip out of your mouth as it welcomes itself against your flesh.

He loves watching you wither and moan. He loves seeing your skin flourish with hues of pink from his finger prints leaving their marks, knowing that they will be there for days. He loves that with each smack of his hand you were getting off to it. He loves that if he were to move his position even lower he’ll feel your wet pussy ready for anything he has in store.

“I’m a dumb little fuck toy sir.” You whine, voice muffled from your face press into the sheets.

“Mhm…” Harry hums again, another painful slap burning your skin. “My dumb little fuck toy.” Smoothing his hand over your scorching flesh.

His grip on your hair jerks your head back, painful cry leaving your mouth as the straining sensation in your scalp makes your arms bend to pick your body off his thighs. He draws your head back even further, your legs flexing to move your position to now face him. The hand leaving heavy slaps against your ass sends one roughly across your face.

His jaw is still tense with eyes dilated in dominance. Your legs are now completely aching for his touch to spread over your pussy, just craving attention.

“Don’t you love being my fuck toy?”

You moan at the words, blinking up at him and nodding your head. “Yes sir.” You whimper, sucking on your bottom lip as he looks over your disheveled appearance.

Harry taps your face gently, lips flattening together as the hold he has on your hair pressures your face to meet his. Your tongues immediately exchange fluid as they dance against each other in passionate harmony, the feeling of his muscle running against yours has you moaning into the kiss.

The rough exchange of spit oozes between lips as you push yourself deeper into his embrace. His fingers curling into your hair welcoming your adventurous tongue as it glides against the wet expanse of his.

“I love being your fuck toy,” You mumble, pulling away and leaving string of saliva linked between you. His eyes glisten at your confession. It makes Harry smirk at you, his tongue escaping his mouth to sever the translucent connection.

The hand in your hair is breaking the sight between you both. His grip shoves your head directly into his lap, your nose digging into his crotch as his other hand goes back to rubbing your bruised skin.

“I think it’s time to put you to work.” Harry declares, his hold making you roam your face along his erection. Your breath rushing over his clothed shaft as he buries you into his lap.

The notifications of tips rings through the space. Audience entertained that you’re being degraded for their enjoyment. The thought alone arouses you, it made you moan against his cock. Followers and onlookers getting off to Harry completely doing anything that he wants to your body. Accepting the demeaning words that fuels your greed for pleasure, and letting him place as many smacks against your skin.

“Take my cock out.” He instructs, his grip relaxing as he lets you rise up to reach into his boxers.

Your hands glide over his member gracefully, fingers roaming over the thick expanse as your eyes look at him with pure adoration. Angry veins ranging in size roam under the stretched skin of him that has your mind completely hypnotized.

“Look at you,” Harry exaggerates with amusement. He gently slaps your cheeks in light taps, those motions making you smile with moan slipping out.

“Enjoying yourself like the slut you are,” He comments. His grip forcing the space between you and his dick to bring attention to pleasing him.

With fingers still lace in your hair, they effortlessly follow your movements when your head leans forward to pepper wet kisses along his shaft. Plump bitten lips smearing saliva messily over his erection, as they roam all along his length, tongue stretching around the girth.

Your hand goes to cup his balls, letting your mouth pick up motion with each descend down him. Tongue feeling over every inch, swallowing him down coating the expense of him in thick fluid from every stroke.

Your eyes flutter from the familiar feeling of him dragging down your throat. The way he fits so nicely like he was made to be there, it only makes you moan around him in pleasure. You love the way he stretches your throat blissfully, moving gracefully with the added slick. The sensation of him expending the flesh around him has your pussy throbbing for any form of treatment.

The quiver between your legs only increases when the grip Harry has in your hair is roughly forcing you back down his cock. Hips drawing slowly out of your mouth to push back in as he begins to fuck your throat. His nails curl into your scalp when he shoves your head all the way down to the point your nose is brushing against his groin, just letting you take his swift thrusts. His deep voice dripping in honey when satisfying groans pass through his lips.

“Take my dick like the good slut you are.”

Wet, obscure noise sounding throughout the atmosphere as he assaults your throat. His rough hands collecting your hair swiftly as he continues to drag your head up and down his cock. The aggressive lunges he makes with his own hips to meet your mouth causes your chest to burn for air.

Your palms tear away from his balls and run across his upper thighs, eyes barely open from the lack of oxygen running through your system. Your mind goes completely numb to the control he has over your movements.

And just as your nose brushes against his skin once more, he relaxes his grip in your locks, letting his fingers gently bring your head up. Heavy ragged breaths draw from your lips as your lungs ache in pain.

It’s only when you feel one of Harry’s hand leave from your hair to run across your face, that you feel wetness roam amongst your cheeks.

His other hand glides down your backside. Feeling over the bruised skin and slipping it between your legs to run his fingers down your folds. A hesitant breath escapes you with eyes blinking slowly at his dick glistening in your fluid.

“Always so wet for me, huh?” Index finger craving your clit around in circles.

You hum while nodding your head; your mind is in another dimension right now, you’re not even sure if you’re able to form coherent words. Your brain is in a cloudy daze, dancing between the raging sensations flowing through you.

It’s a mix between thrill and greed. You want more of Harry shoving himself down your throat till the point you pass out, you want him to push your face deeper down his cock and have your nails curling into his skin from the lack of oxygen. You want him to ruin you.

“So wet and ready to be used.” Harry states. Another finger occupying his movements, only causing your head to lean forward, broken whimper trailing out of your lips at the added pleasure you’ve been craving. “Be a good little slut for me. Won’t you baby.”

You nod your head, lashes fluttering against the hollows of your eyes while you lean forward and press lazy kisses along his dick. Harry motions continue to rub your clit around his two fingers, spreading your nectar along your folds with swiftness that you can’t help the moan that breaks through your lips.

“Say you’re gonna be a good slut for me.” His fingers continuing their fierce movements.

“I —I’m,” Voice coming out broken and damaged. Harry smirks at that. “I’m gonna be a good slut for you sir.” You manage to say, lips still roaming amongst his length.

“That’s my girl.”

His fingers leave your clit to dip between your folds and spread you open. Lengthy digits thrusting into your pussy slow. He feels the way your velvet walls sink around him, the sweet fluid that you’ve been producing since he’s been lying his hands on you, gliding down every inch of his skin as lets his fingers explore you.

You moan at the feeling of Harry slipping into your pussy provoking more filthy whimpers of pleasure, while your mouth drags down the expense of him.

You’re so turned on from the sensations coursing through you, you don’t even hear the constant pings of tips and comments coming through the chatroom. Viewers appreciate your tousled appearance and beg for more entertainment. They want more exposure of your skin being shown. They want more deafening slaps and disgraceful words, they want to see you wrecked.

Your lips wrap around Harry in a frenzy state, sucking him down your throat just the way you know he likes; tongue lying on the underside and feeling over every prominent blood vessel that blooms along his shaft, throat welcoming the thickness that buries itself deep in your throat till your nose is brushing up against his groin just like before.

As you continue to let pleasure course through you and roam down the span of him, Harry continues playing with your pussy. Lunging his fingers hungrily with your slick cascading down his fingers all the way to his knuckles, fucking his digits into your soiled box that you choke around him, only straining the burn in your throat.

“That’s my good slut.” Harry groans, his fingers curling into your heat as your eyes flutter. “Taking good care of my dick.” He continues to boast.

You hum from the gratitude, relishing in the compliment that’s given, you nod around him in acknowledgment with fingers curving gently into his skin while he continues his tantalizing motions.

“Wanna be an even better slut for me?” He questions. Your mouth drapes up the expense of him, saliva dripping from your lips as you turn to look up at him with swollen eyes and burning cheeks.

“Yes sir.” Nodding while blinking up at him. You’re sure the mascara that coated your lashes is all over your cheeks and streaked along the hollow of your eyes. You’re sure that Harry loves the damage he’s done to you.

“Gonna take my dick like the good girl you are? Huh? Don’t you want to be a good girl?” You moan at the words while nodding your head again at him. Whatever he wanted to do, you allowed. In the mind space your in, he could do no wrong.

“Yes sir.”

You let him push you off his lap and find his place behind you, handling you roughly as his hands leave your hair to position you better in the frame of your laptop. His fingers undo your bralette before pushing your back deeper into the duvet. His hands gliding down the smooth expense before tugging your skirt higher on your hips.

“Such a pretty pussy.” You hear behind you. Cock dragging down your aching heat.

“Please sir, I wanna feel you.” You moan, voice strained and raspy. Harry laughs behind you. Deep chuckle as if he’s amused by your comment. “Please sir, haven’t I’ve been good?” You beg, ass pressing deeper into his cock, that it only allows a smack to go across your cheeks.

“I don’t know, have you?” Pressing his cock between your folds to slide in effortlessly. Your walls expand around him, damaged voice moaning out swears from him filling you up completely as his hips meet your backside.

“Why did you lie to me?” Harry taunts, drawing back till his head is breached between your hole until he thrusts back in aggressively.

“Why did you lie to them?” He continues, his hand leaving your covered hips and bringing your wrist to hold behind your back.

You can only moan at the drastic strikes of his cock in you. He’s barreling down your walls aggressively that you’ve grown completely numb to the pleasure, just letting him manhandle you to the point you’re not even control of your emotions, he’s the one controlling them.

“Answer me!” He demands, his chest leaning in to grab your hair in his hands and twist your head to look directly into the camera.

“Tell them, tell me, why’d you lie.” Your eyes float over the colourful screen with black words darting up and down. There’s tears brimming your eyes at his thickness abusing your hole so roughly.

“I don’t know sir.” You whine, your free hand not in Harry’s grasp is curling into the duvet as he pounds away at your cervix.

“You don’t know?” He questions, continuing to bruise your pussy restlessly. You shake your head in his hold while whimpering at the pleasure. “You want me to give you the answer, will that make it easy for you? Hm?” He’s diving down your walls with such violation your mind is in a different place.

“Yes sir, tell me.” You moan into the sheets, the soft light from the laptop is blurry under your gaze.

“Because you’re a dirty slut. Say it, say “I lied because I’m a dirty slut.”” Nodding your head into the sheets you feel lonesome tears begin to run down your face as you let him degrade you for everyone and him to enjoy.

“I lied because I’m a dirty slut.” Crying into the sheets as he continues to stroke your walls dangerously.

“That’s right.” Harry husks, the grip he has in your hair releasing as it runs across your face wiping your tears. “But you’re my dirty slut. My dirty fuck toy.”

Shallow breaths draw in from your clit throbbing in arousal, your pussy continues to accept his thrusts that glide with ease from your nectar, walls enveloping him comfortably as he strides in with rough urgency.

He looks over your features; mascara smeared all over your cheeks, eyes trained dazzlingly at the screen beside you, chest heaving with ease as your backside sounds in the room with the fluid between your legs joining. He loves that he can push you to your limits and you still find pleasure in his devious ways. He loves that you accept his intensity with your own greed for wanting more.

“My pretty fuck toy. Only I can make you feel like this.” His hand coming between your thighs to toy with your clit. Heavy breath releasing from your chest as you dip your head in acknowledgment.

“Making you this needy over my cock. I know you love it.” You whine at the comment, knuckles going white against the bedsheets.

“Yes, fuck, sir, I love it.” Whimpering with gaze completely blurring with tears accepting his intense thrusts.

“My pretty slut.” Harry’s fingers rub your bundle of nerves in rough circles as he continues to drive your nerves up the wall.

The ringing from the laptop doesn’t overshadow the ones in your ears. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with it digging into the sheets. Your thighs quiver against his barreling ones, warm waves of euphoria coat your body in pure ecstasy from your climax overthrowing you.

Harry is grunting behind you, his movements never slowing just continuing their hungry paste. His hand that was wiping away your tears goes to land smacks against your backside to add to your electrifying orgasm coursing through you.

“Want me to make you even prettier? Want me to make you beautiful?” He insinuates, palm leaving another mark against your skin as he fucks you into the mattress.

The addicting sensation clouds over you from being completely disoriented at the assault between your legs. Brain in fuzzy whirlwinds of pleasure at the aftermath of your climax.

“Yes sir.” Whining with every jolt of your body.

“Gonna make you the prettiest toy.”

His hips lunge into you once more, thickness dragging down your walls enticingly before they pull out, his creamy seed runs down your folds in long spurts as he tugs himself off in front of your pussy.

Disappointing cry trails out of your mouth at the disappearance of his cock leaving your heat, but you can feel his cum running down your lips, and you can feel his hands roaming amongst your ass cheeks again.

“Look at you,” Harry smiles breathlessly, his grip over you making your backside face the laptop and display your ruined hole to the viewers.

“Look at how pretty you are.” His hands spreading your cheeks to showcase your pussy dripping in his cum.

There wasn’t much you could even do in the moment, continuing to let him present you as his fuck toy to your followers. The action had you actually smiling smugly into the sheets.

“My pretty girl.” Harry is leaving his place to lean over and press kisses along the side of your face.

And that is how your night ends, with the notifications blaring in the background with tips of your viewers thanking you for your first show.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #smuttyaf #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #rough harry styles #kinky harry styles #the ending is pretty rushed but i hope you all like it #teehee

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

I have a subby baby Bucky request for you.

What about him being really needy in the middle of the night and he lays behind you and hums himself against you.

You wake up and ask him what he is doing there. (You know it but subby Bucky is just too cute with that them) He says sorry but he needs you so bad and you’re nice to him and help him with his hard bulge in his pants. 😌😌

Needy Night » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky wakes up in the middle of the night needing attention from his girlfriend.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, sub Bucky/dom reader, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, dry humping, (m receiving), mommy kink, praise kink, pet names for Y/N (doll), pet names for Bucky (baby boy)

A/N: Thank you for requesting!🩵 @buckys-wintersoldier

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

Bucky woke up with a gasp leaving his lips and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking around the dark bedroom as he tried to gather his surroundings. He looked down at his lap, noticing a bump that was underneath the blanket. He lifted the blanket, only to find out the bump was inside of his sweatpants.

“Damn it.” Bucky quietly mumbles to himself.

He laid back on the bed and sighed. He turned his head to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. Bucky looked from you to his bulge as an idea popped into his head. He rolled to his side and moved himself closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He bit his lip to keep himself from moaning when he felt your ass against his bulge. He slowly started to move his hips against your ass, gasping quietly when he felt some kind of relief.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky quietly moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Bucky leaned his head against your shoulder and placed save kisses on the back of it. He quickened his movements, unable to control himself. Pants left his mouth. You shivered when you felt his breath on your skin. Bucky’s movements stilled when you shifted, hoping that he didn’t wake you up. After a moment, he started grinding his bulge against your ass again, applying more pressure than he did the first time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bucky whispers to himself, loving the feeling of your ass against his clothed cock.

Your eyes fluttered open. It didn’t take you long to realize what Bucky was doing.

“Buck, what are you doing?” You asked, acting like you didn’t know what he was doing.

“I-I’m sorry, mommy!” He quickly apologized. “I umm…” He couldn’t find the words to describe what he was doing.

You giggled to yourself and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. You turned over to see Bucky’s face red in embarrassment and his blue eyes were dark with lust. You placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it and rubbing your thumb over his stubble.

“Are you horny?” You asked him.

Bucky looked into your eyes and nodded his head yes.

“Do you want mommy to help you with your problem?” You asked, rubbing a hand down his abs.

Bucky nodded his head yes again. Your hand slid past the waistband of his sweatpants, rubbing your hand over his hard cock in his boxers. Bucky bucked his hip into your hand.

“Lay down for me please.” You say.

Bucky laid down on his back as you sat up. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, enough for his hard cock to spring out against his stomach. His tip was leaking with precum. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before swiping your thumb over his tip, using his precum as a lubricant.

“Pl-Please!” Bucky begs.

“Patiences, baby boy.” You tell him.

You leaned down and wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked on it before moving your mouth farther down on his cock, your nose almost touching his lower abdomen. Bucky threw his head back against his pillow, loving the feeling of your tongue on the underside of his cock.

“Oh fuck, yes!” Bucky moans.

You placed your hands on his thighs and began to bob your head faster. Bucky lifted his head to look down at you, making eye contact with you. You had an innocent look in your eyes that drives him crazy. You took your mouth off his cock to get your breathing under control. You leaned up, kissing his lips while moving your hand up and down on his cock. Bucky moaned against your lips. You move your lips down to his neck, your teeth lightly nipping on his skin, biting down hard enough for a hickey. Bucky tilted his head to the side to give you more access to his neck. You kissed down his body, stopping just above his cock. You wrapped your lips around his cock again and started bobbing your head. The hand that was on his cock went down to his balls, lightly massaging them.

“Fuck!” Bucky moans. “Please don’t stop!” He whines.

You applied more pressure to his balls as you massaged them. Bucky’s jaw dropped and his eyes squeezed shut, loving the feeling.

“Yes! Oh fuck!” He moans as his tip hit the back of your throat.

His cock twitched in your mouth. Bucky feeling his orgasm coming closer to an end much to his liking.

“I-I’m— oh fuck! I’m gonna cum! C-Can I cum, mommy?” He asks, almost whining.

You hummed around his cock, giving him permission to cum. A loud moan of the word mommy left his lips as he came in your mouth. You bobbed your head a few more times before taking your mouth off of his cock while swallowing his cum and making eye contact with him. Bucky was a panting mess.

“Th-Thank you, mommy.” He says, regaining his breath.

“Anytime, baby boy.” You say with a smile.

Bucky pulled his boxers and sweatpants back up. You got off the bed and went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to clean up the two of you. Then you went to the kitchen to get some water before getting back in bed and shutting the light off. Bucky moved closer to you, laying his head on your chest.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky whispers sleepily.

“I love you too, baby boy.” You whispered back, kissing the top of his head.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #the avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #sub!bucky #dom!reader

[cowboyfromh3ll]

You know how in the epilogue John works on Mr Geddes ranch and the wife invites him inside the house (basically hinting at you know what) well that sparked an idea for a request. Could you do an Arthur fic where the reader is in a similar situation where she isn’t on good terms with her husband and she knows he’s cheating on her so after Arthur starts working on their farm she takes a liking to him and they have sex.

Sugar On My Tongue

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut)

FINALLY UPLOADING A ONE SHOT YALL

Warnings: smut, infidelity

You found it hilarious that people thought you and your husband were the perfect couple based solely on looks. During the celebration following your wedding, his brother loudly and drunkenly declared just how attractive the two of you were, “a genetic match made in heaven.” he said, his words slurring together with noticeable envy. Later that night, his brother would have attempted to put a hand on your ass before throwing up in the grass behind your ranch. 

The two of you were needlessly attractive, and in your days working as a handmaid, you would have bragged endlessly about what a catch you got. Your fellow handmaids would’ve also raved on about just how good-looking he was, expressing their jealousy through lighthearted jokes. The wealth he possessed was another determining factor of your marriage to him. You supposed marrying him was worth it for his massive ranch alone. However, the real problems began just mere months after your wedding ceremony. What should have marked a beautiful beginning to your lives together quickly deteriorated into something else. 

The ring on your husband's finger didn’t seem to slow the frenetic pace at which he flirted with women and picked them up, never in the comfort of your own home but under the guise that he was headed into town to take care of business. You often wanted to argue back that all the business that needed doing was here on the ranch, but you did not want to risk your life of comfort. Part of you learned to put up with it only because it meant you could sit around all day, spend your husband's money, and watch loads of sweaty men work around your ranch. In the same vein as your husband's infidelity, his time away from the ranch meant being able to flirt with the ranch hands subtly. 

You were well aware of how attractive you were and were more than well aware that the ranch hands thought the same of you. You’d feel their leering gazes whenever you bent over to pick something up, the whole world suddenly stopping behind you just to stare at your ass. You found enjoyment in the act of undoing the top buttons of your shirt to expose your cleavage before heading out the doorway of your home, looking straight ahead while doing your best strut past the working hands. You would smirk openly as you heard their chatter between each other die down and fall silent, feeling all their eyes transfer to you as you walked past. Once you were several feet away, you’d hear the low whistles of the men, followed by their lewd comments: “She’s smoking hot.” “If I had a wife like her, hell, I’d be home all the time.” “Too bad she’s married to the ranch owner.” 

You knew this was the mindset you had to conquer in Arthur’s mind. In your conquest of the new aforementioned ranch hand, you had to rid him of the idea that what you were doing was wrong; it’d appear more as taboo flirting than actual infidelity. Arthur could also be described as needlessly attractive. He seemed to highlight every aspect that made up exactly what it was that you loved so much about your ranch hands: his sultry low drawl, his big arms with bulging biceps that would flex from any form of strain, his rough hands, callused from all the work he had done in his life, his full beard that he’d occasionally trimmed down to a fine stubble, and his wonderfully welcoming gentle blue eyes that contrasted every other bit of his begin. The sweat on his skin made him appear glossy and slick, and you’d taken a liking to the fantasy of licking his entire body clean of it. The perfect cherry on top.

At times you wished your urges for the man would remain dormant, but the silent cries from between your legs were hummed just loud enough that you were constantly aware of them; like a soundtrack to whatever it was you were trying to do with Arthur. And every time you ventured outside your ranch home, you’d spot Arthur in the distance, splashing his face with water and watching the way the droplets of water raced down his jaw and neck to see which was lucky enough to make it under the collar of his shirt first. Other times you’d see him shoveling dirt or hay, and you’d focus solely on the way his hands and arms worked. Your favorite was being able to watch him heave large sacks over his shoulders, often multiple at once. By the end of the day, the scent of Arthur’s sweat as he stood by you or walked past you was so pungent that it clung to your nostrils and made you dizzy with desire. 

You clung onto the hope that during one of these encounters, you might come across the best scenario possible: Arthur fixing a fence at noon when the sun was highest in the sky, freckles of blown dirt sticking to his sweaty shirtless torso, his dirt-stained denim jeans hanging lowly on his hips; one tug away from freedom. Your husband gone. In that case, you might be able to stumble across his working form and feign concern for his sunburnt skin. Would he mind taking a break? Allowing you to take him into your home for a cold glass of water? You’d been in the sun all day, you were both likely parched.

Your greatest bouts of confidence came during moments when you were able to find yourself alone with Arthur. You knew seducing any of the other ranch hands would be ridiculously easy, but Arthur had a little resistance to him, and you loved a little challenge. You pounced on the opportunity to talk to Arthur when you saw him standing inside the stables, soaked in sweat from head to toe while trying to evade the sun’s harsh rays in the shade provided. You saw him wipe his sweat off on the back of his sleeve, feeling as though it was a blatant misuse of a precious resource. ‘No!’ you wanted to shout ‘Don’t wipe it off! Let me clean it off you!’ 

“Real hot today isn’t it, Mr. Morgan?” You sauntered up behind Arthur, leaning your weight on the door of one of the stables. He pitched his pitchfork against a wall and turned back before smiling politely at you. 

“Certainly is, Miss. Why ain’t you inside, huh? You could get sunburnt.” Arthur warned, which you found incredibly endearing. It could’ve been just a simple show of concern, but you believed it to be far more than that. It sounded more to you like a declaration of love. 

“I just like making my rounds around the ranch, taking nice walks. It is my ranch after all.” You reminded. You found that an admonition of your position of power around here would cement you as someone with far more influence than any of your hands. It proved effective, as Arthur began nodding in understanding. 

“Right, my apologies, Miss.” He said, bowing his head slightly. 

“No need to apologize, say, do you wanna come into the house for a cold beer? Sure seems like you need to cool off.” Not just a beer, a cold beer. You had a way with words. How many hours had Arthur worked in the field, the skin of his back stinging from cruel sunburns while his vision blurred from his own sweat dripping into his eyes, parched beyond any relief the tepid tap water could provide, dreaming of a really cold beer? You shifted your weight onto one hip and allowed a small smirk to crawl onto your face. You began to shed all polite pretenses as you looked Arthur up and down, reveling in the way his body noticeably tensed. You weren’t being too forthcoming, but just enough that if Arthur decided to come onto you, you’d be doing him a great favor by entertaining his advances. 

“I don’t think I should, Miss, I-”

“Nonsense! You live on this ranch, after all, I see no harm in stepping inside my house. Especially since I’m allowing it.”

Arthur looked at you hesitantly, then quickly around him as if he didn’t want anyone to see him talking to you. Arthur wasn’t oblivious to the fact that every single ranch hand found you attractive, as well as himself. He just didn’t want to receive an endless stream of questioning as to why and what he was talking to you about. 

“If you insist.” He said, removing his hat from his head and following you out the stable. 

“I’m more than happy to.” You smiled, blithely patting his shoulders before sliding your hand down his arm. You passed it off with clueless laughter, shivering at the feeling of his eyes on your backside. Arthur fiddled with his fingers as he followed you up the path to your house. The glaring sun made the green grass appear brighter, creating a luminous passage toward salvation. 

The sounds of your footsteps up the wooden porch pulled him out of a trance he didn’t realize he was in. Arthur looked up at you from the bottom of the steps, still hesitant to make his way up. You looked down at him from where you stood, reveling in the faux height difference that made you far taller than he was; you felt half god to his mortal. 

“Come on,” You beckoned. “It’s just my house.” You shrugged and smiled, your lips twitching in an attempt to hold back a smirk. Arthur took one last cautionary glance around before finally making his way up. You opened the door and allowed Arthur to walk in first, stepping inside afterward with a large smile. The sound of the metal clanking as the bolt shut into place felt like a small kick in your loins that spurred you on in your pursuit. 

Arthur stood awkwardly in the center of the living area as he looked around. He became hyper-aware of his limbs, his arms hovering over his torso, unsure what to do next. You walked past him and smiled at him, motioning with your hand for him to follow you. 

You led him to your ornately papered kitchen, making a show of bending over in front of him to retrieve the box of chilled beers below the counter. You set the heavy box down on the table, digging a beer out, and popping the lid off on the corner of the table. Froth rose from the beer bottle, sliding over your hand and soaking the skin. Arthur watched, as if hypnotized, as the foam slid over and dripped onto your floor. He swallowed hard and squinted his eyes, the kitchen window behind you draping you in a soft sheet of sunlight as you eclipsed it; only adding to your godly image. Your movements seemed to play in slow motion as you stretched your arm out and handed Arthur the beer. Every turn or twitch of a limb felt somnambulant, his arm feeling like a sandbag as he lifted it and took the beer from your dainty hand. 

The condensation, combined with Arthur’s nerves, caused the bottle to slip from his hand and crash on the floor. The shattering sound caused Arthur to snap out of his daze, as thought it more some sort of anecdote to the hypnosis he was under. 

“Oh, Miss, I’m so sorry.” Arthur crouched down and began gathering the large pieces of glass in his hand, afraid of the possibility that if he looked up, he might see your disappointed face. Being able to step inside your home to be able to enjoy a cold beer already felt like a blessing. You bent down in front of him, placing your lithe hands on his wrists. He looked up at you, swallowing hard and preparing for any chastising he would receive. But it never came. 

“It’s okay. I’ll clean it up. It’s my fault anyways, I should’ve wiped it down before I handed it to you.” Normally, Arthur would have argued back, but he seemed to fall under your spell again. It was as if against his own will, he let the glass side from his palms onto the ground again and rose. You looked up at him with a smile, still kneeling before him. Arthur felt his cock twitch. 

“Why don’t you go sit down at the table over there? I’ll get you a new beer.” You smiled a bit longer, watching for any signs of refusal before getting back to cleaning up the mess. You waited for the view of Arthur’s boots to disappear from your peripheral before you decided to dispose of the glass in the trash. You turned your back to retrieve another beer, hearing the scrape of a chair against the floor. You took the opportunity to unbutton two extra buttons from your shirt so that it hung open and exposed some cleavage. You expected him to stare at you as you spoke inane details about how the ranch was doing in terms of business, then you could act surprised that his gaze had med your open shirt and possibly get a confession that he was indeed looking at your chest—information you’d pretend to find so overly flattering you’d offer to give him an even better look. 

The moment you turned around to face him, beer and bottle opener in hand, you caught his eyes flickering to your chest before quickly looking away. You would’ve passed it off as sneaky if not for the fact you were actively seeking for him to look. You walked closer, grinning widely and continuing to approach him until you stood closely next to where he sat, perhaps too close for comfort. Your hip bone brushed against his arm, something you pretended not to notice—you also pretended not to notice the way he shifted in his seat, trying his best to keep his gaze on the table. 

You popped the cap off the bottle, handing it to Arthur and ensuring he had a firm grasp on it. Arthur thanked you quietly before taking a sip. For the first time since Arthur entered your home, he felt comfortable and almost content as he sipped the beer. He took a large swig, his nerves washed away by the golden liquid as he allowed himself to slump in his chair. It was almost enough to make him forget that you still stood closely by his side, your hip pressed into his tricep at this point. 

Arthur continued to drink, trying to ignore the satisfied smile on your face that bordered on unnerving. He nearly dropped the bottle again when he felt your hand slide onto his shoulder before giving it a heavy and firm squeeze, full of intent. He nearly convinced himself he was hallucinating, hesitant to look up. Was this all just a mirage he had dreamt up, brought about by the scorching heat? But as your hand slid down to his firm bicep, delivering a gentle squeeze, it was confirmed to him that this was real. 

“Miss… What are you doing?” Despite having downed an entire bottle of beer, Arthur’s throat became instantly dry. He finally willed himself to look up at you, a chill wracking through his body when he made eye contact with your icy eyes. Eyes colder than any drink you could offer him, and it suggested that perhaps, you had something that could quench his thirst better than any drink as well. 

“Why don’t we celebrate a little more?” You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, maintaining that same innocent smile. But the two of you were beyond the point of ignorance for what this was leading to; all it would take for this to escalate was for someone to say it. 

Your other hand slid around his shoulder, both of your hands coming to knead at his shoulders. You skillfully worked the muscles in his shoulders, making occasional comments about how hardworking he must be in order to be this tense. Meanwhile, Arthur sat in his seat, trying to weigh out in his head whether this was okay or if this was already too far. How much farther would this get? Would it go beyond the point of being able to say he didn’t engage in adultery? How long would your husband be gone for? Would he find out? You could say Arthur came onto you and he’d have no reason not to believe you. 

“Miss, I really don’t think I should be here anymore.” He didn’t turn to face you, occupying himself with playing with the bottle. 

“Why not?” 

Arthur was unsure of how to proceed. There was no way he was reading your signals wrong. You were feeling his chest up at this point, and so far, he’d made no movements to get your hands off of him. He’d be lying if he said part of him didn’t enjoy this. But what if he was reading this wrong? But how could he? It couldn’t have been more in his face. 

“Well, you’re… married…” He finally mustered up. Being reminded of your husband at a time you were supposed to be enjoying yourself nearly drove you to anger. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, confirming something in Arthur’s head. 

“Let’s not be dumb here.” There was a sudden seriousness in your voice that made Arthur nervous. “I’m tired of looking dumb to everyone on the farm while my husband goes out and fucks some birds in town.” You squeezed Arthur’s shoulder and moved around his body to face him now. Perhaps it was your honesty or your assertiveness, but not much else needed to be said. There was a sacred moment of understanding between the two of you that did not need to be verbalized. 

When your husband later found out, you wouldn’t have been able to recount to him the details of the time it took to get from the kitchen table to your shared bed. Time sped up the instant you crashed your lips onto Arthur’s, any tinge of hesitance leaving him as he kissed back hungrily. He gripped either side of your button-up and yanked, causing buttons to fly all over the bedroom floor—buttons you never bothered to pick up. You wore no chemise that day, so Arthur got an instant eyeful of your bare breasts. Arthur worked his shirt off while you slid off your skirt and drawers, leaving you completely naked. Arthur himself was only wearing his jeans at this point. 

You wasted no time in pushing Arthur on his back, the same spot where your husband slept; he had a moment of clarity when his head hit the pillow where he realized just how quickly this was moving. But before he could reach the point in his train of thought where he would begin defusing this sexually charged situation, you were on all fours facing him. You lowered yourself onto your elbows as you began undoing his belt buckle, sliding the leather out the loops of his jeans and discarding it next to the bed. You hastily undid his button and zipper, making Arthur feel like he was being pounced on by a panther in the woods, ready to be mauled by your lust and desire. 

Arthur rested his body weight on his elbows and watched you pull his cock out, looking on in amusement as you gawked at its size and held it next to your face in comparison. His breath caught in his throat when you licked up the side of his cock, reaching the tip and spitting a fat glob of saliva, allowing it to slide down his shaft. The two of you watched it in mesmerization before you began slathering his cock with it, swiping your thumb over his tip and circling your pad on it.

You lowered your head onto his cock, your hair coming down and framing your face while you sucked him off like curtains to a show. Arthur eyed the way your ass lifted in the air, curving into a perfect heart shape that was begging to be slapped. You wasted no time shoving his cock all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing around him as you tried to ease away a gag. You salivated around him, your body’s attempt to aid you. You slid your head back up slowly until breathing became difficult, various strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you sucked in a breath. The strings broke and dripped down your chin, the sight so filthy and lewd Arthur almost didn’t feel bad about this. 

You licked up the side of his cock before reaching the tip and licking down again. You repeated the same motion while maintaining eye contact, smiling widely as you did so. Arthur was utterly debauched, his limbs feeling too jelly-like to continue to hold himself up. He crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing fully and claiming your husband’s spot like he was the new lion that crawled into the den. You began deepthroating Arthur, bobbing your head up and down as you moaned around him. You had never blown your husband with such vigor, and much recently, you had begun refusing to sleep with him. Probably spurring him on to keep seeking out sex work. But you couldn’t care less about his history of infidelity at this moment. You could only focus on the way Arthur's face contorted and tipped back in pleasure, his lips parting to pant. 

You lifted your head from Arthur, wiping your mouth on the back of your arm and eyeing him. The two of you synchronized as you climbed on top of Arthur, his hands taking hold of your own as he guided you on top of him. Arthur watched you take his glistening cock and line it up with your cunt, and in the blink of an eye, you had sunk down fully onto him. 

Arthur’s eyes went wide as he watched you instantly begin to ride him, not taking a second to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Your moans began loudly, throwing your head back as you bounced yourself on his lap. You supposed this was a bigger moment than this was for Arthur. A sense of control washing over you, feeling more powerful than ever. You imagined your husband’s face if he were to walk in. The horror that would cross his features.

“Oh fuck! This is so much better than my husband…” You gasped. You gripped his shoulders and supported yourself on his, the burning in your legs increasing as you continued to ride him. Arthur eventually gripped your hips, moving you up and down with much greater force. Initially, it felt like you were fucking yourself on Arthur, but now it felt like he was the one fucking you. 

Your bodies move in tandem, heavy moans and pants and groans filling the room. The sheer scandalousness of it all tipped you over as you came all over his cock. You continued to ride Arthur, despite having been satiated yourself, set on having him cum inside you. 

“Finish inside me.” You demanded. His thrusts stuttered, a tinge of bewilderment in his eyes. 

“Are you sure? What if-”

“Just do it, dammit.” You said through grit teeth.

After a few more minutes of thrusting, Arthur emptied himself inside you, your cunt now a spent pool of pleasure. It felt as though a deep itch inside you had finally been scratched, and Arthur began to wonder how long you had been planning something like this or if this happened completely by chance. 

Golden rays began pouring in from your bedroom window, indicating a lot of time had passed. To the two of you, it felt so short. Your body shone with the afterglow of sex, the sweat glistening on your skin. You had never looked so heavenly. Arthur allowed you to be his god for the day, his savior. To you, godhood was just like girlhood, begging to be seen.

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Sugar On My Tounge - Talking Heads

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #red dead fanfiction #writing #van der linde gang x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader smut

[wndaswife]

two slow dancers

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, fluff, angst, unspecified age gap, jealousy, strap-ons, cnc, manipulation, breast slapping, cunnilingus, hair pulling, slight spanking, belly bulges, degradation, praise, dumbification, mommy kink, breeding kink, piss kink, impact play, breast play, mentions of somnophilia, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 6996

summary: Your coworker invites you and a few others to celebrate New Year's Eve at her place, but all she wants to do is get you alone.

gif credit to creator.

Through your window, stray fireworks shoot up in the dusked horizon.

A week ago, your coworker, Wanda, invited you over for a New Year’s Eve gathering at her house. She started at the job no longer than a month ago, and you believe you’ve gotten relatively close with her since then.

Wanda Maximoff is thirty-four with an ex-husband and two twin boys you’ve never met. You’ve seen her ex once when he was dropping some things off for her at work. The exchange you observed could only be described as one between two vaguely similar creatures at best, interacting only out of necessity. They shared children and nothing more.

She took a liking to you in particular, and you were grateful for having her company for the last month.

She had a knack for offering comfort, and you often found yourself revealing to her some of your most intimate feelings and worries when you hadn’t even intended to. Wanda would always be so kindhearted, running a hand down your arm or squeezing your thigh gently while responding to you with supportive coos.

Now that the day of the party has come around, you’re standing in front of a mirror, holding up a pair of earrings to each side of your face. You survey the glistening faux emeralds, turning them around and observing them with great focus in the mirror before opting for a different pair.

“Are you ready?” a voice chimes from the hallway. 

Looking into the mirror, you see Monica step into your bedroom in a pair of black jeans and a warm blue-green long sleeve. 

“Just about…” you mutter, putting on a pair of pearl earrings. Turning around to face your friend, you ask, “Does it match?”

After a moment of deliberation, Monica nods. “Yeah, it matches,” she confirms and heads over to your bed to get your purse. “Who are you dressing up for, huh?” she inquires, a grin forming on her face as she looks over at you getting your jacket on. “Wanda?”

Your eyes snap over to her too quickly to hide your peaked interest at your coworker’s name. “What?” you chuckle out nervously. You lean down to pick up a pair of flats from your closet, thankful for the way your hair shrouded your suddenly-flushed face.

With crossed arms, Monica approaches your bedroom door as she looks down at you, amused.

“N-No,” you finally answer. “I just want to look good. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Sure,” Monica says simply, nodding. She hooks her arm around yours and leaves the bedroom with you.

You carpool to Wanda’s house together, as plans were to meet everyone there at a certain time. Despite having left early, Monica takes a wrong turn and you end up getting caught in traffic as the car takes the main roads to Wanda’s place.

Finally, you arrive at your destination about half an hour late.

With her homemade mango float and your bottle of champagne, Monica hopes the both of you can apologise to Wanda for the late arrival. She makes a joke that Wanda wouldn’t mind in the slightest if the two of you came even two hours late so long as you were arriving with her. 

The front door to Wanda’s house opens, revealing your coworker with her brown hair let down, and you notice for the first time how long it is. Today, she is wearing a bit of blush and a darker red lip than she normally wears for work.

Her eyes flicker between you and Monica before Monica lifts up a covered dish of mango float, breaking the brief silence.

“We’re sorry for how late we are. Traffic,” she says, a sheepish smile forming on her face.

As if returning to the present, Wanda blinks and smiles. “It's quite alright,” she reassures.

Just then, Darcy pops up behind Wanda and reaches her arms out to take the mango float from Monica’s hands. “Thank you,” she says graciously, eyeing the tinfoiled dish as if she would take a whole bite out of it then and there, tinfoil and ceramic material included. 

“Hey, Y/N. Happy New Year’s Eve,” she greets with a grin.

“Hi, Darcy,” you reply with a smile and a little wave.

Monica steps into the house and takes her boots and jacket off. Darcy leads her into the house.

Then, it’s only you and Wanda standing at the front door.

“Oh dear, how rude of me,” your coworker says. “Please, sweetheart, come in.” She ushers you into her house and tucks a hand under your jacket, making your back straighten. If she notices your sudden jerk of tension, she says nothing of it. Her hand loops around your waist to your furthest hip so her arm embraces you under your jacket.

Her hand reaches down below your eyeline while you’re looking up at her. You’re hugged against her side, swallowing your nerves but trembling all the same.

“Is this for me?” she whispers, grinning as if amused.

All you can manage in response is an idiotic, “Wh-What?”

A bottle of champagne is lifted up so you can see it and, with her eyes, Wanda gestures to it.

“Oh,” you say, then clear your throat. “Yeah, that’s for you. For everyone, kind of.”

Wanda hums and examines the bottle. Her eyes return to you and she smiles again. “We can say it’s for everyone to appease the guests,” she suggests and removes her arm from around your body. She begins to take off your jacket with her free hand and you slip your other arm out of the sleeve. She hangs your jacket up for you, and with her hand against your lower back, leads you out of the front foyer and into the living room.

Familiar happy faces greet you once you enter the living room with some women lounging on the couches and some standing around.

Jen, Darcy, Natasha and her younger sister Yelena, an unfamiliar girl who you would later find is named Kate, and Carol all exchange greetings with you.

Wanda’s hand leaves your lower back and you turn to watch her place your champagne on the kitchen counter with a few other bottles of wine and a cooler of what you suppose is filled with sparklers and beer.

Monica pulls you down onto the couch and you take a seat between her and Darcy. 

You think you see a flash of Wanda eyeing you from across the living room from beyond the passthrough window that connects the living room and the kitchen, but when you look over to her, she’s already starting a conversation with Jennifer. 

You tell yourself that you’ll talk with Wanda later.

A body suddenly sprawls itself out across the laps of you and the two other women on either side of you, thus taking your attention away from Wanda.

Carol stretches herself out in front of the three of you.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Y/N,” she says with a grin that reminds you all too well of a golden retriever. 

You respond with an equally large smile, “Happy New Year’s Eve, Carol.”

The afternoon passes swiftly, especially with Wanda hosting. Not a moment passes when there aren’t drinks nor fresh snacks and food available along the kitchen counter. She’s an extremely attentive host, engaging herself in conversation and ensuring everyone is well taken care of.

Wanda also gave everyone a tour of her house during which she got endless compliments on nearly every room she introduced. 

Eventually, all of you gather around the dining room table playing a board game Kate brought and are divided into two teams. You have no idea how to play.

At the sight of your confused expression, Wanda places a hand dangerously close to your ass and pulls you close to her under the table. 

“Do you know how to play, darling?” she inquires with a curious tip of her head.

When you tell her you don’t, she invites you to sit beside her and stay on her team. She tells you she’s played it with her twins and ex-husband a handful of times and that she’ll help you through it.

You settle in the chair beside Wanda and move yourself closer to the table.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!” Monica announces and rushes over from the washroom. “What team should I join?”

“Join Y/N’s,” Wanda suggests. “I do believe couples should avoid all competition if possible.”

A few laughs and confused expressions are exchanged around the table.

“Cou…” you trail off and look up at Monica, who looks equally as confused as you. “What?”

“We’re not together,” Monica corrects with an awkward smile and a chuckle.

“Oh, you aren’t?” she repeats, looking between the two of you. You recall the way she looked at the two of you when you arrived together and when you took a seat beside Monica on the couch before. Though it was true that you and Monica were close, one would truly have to reach to come to the conclusion that you were dating each other.

Then, Wanda laughs. “I was under the impression that you were. My apologies,” she says.

The misunderstanding is easily forgotten because Wanda only started working with all of you about a month ago. Anyone could understand the mistake. But even so, your face remains flushed as you think back to the curious stares you got from her, and you were caught up in the momentary glint of envy behind each one.

Monica takes a seat beside Darcy, on the other team across the table.

Kate sets up the game and Wanda pours everyone a glass of the champagne you brought and leaves the bottle in the middle of the table for anyone to refill their glasses.

“Come closer, Y/N,” Wanda whispers once Yelena and Kate begin explaining the rules of the game. She wraps her fingers under your chair and moves your chair closer to her. 

Wanda’s arm remains comfortably wrapped around your waist despite your occasional movements. You watch her concentrated face, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she listens to the rest of the game instructions all while her hand is running up and down your side as if you were an idle pet.

A pressure forms between your thighs and you adjust your position on your chair.

The game becomes increasingly amusing the more all of you sip at glasses of champagne and some on their bottles of beer, steadily growing more tipsy.

At some point during the game, Wanda’s arm leaves from around your waist, after which her hand ends up finding your thigh instead. Absentmindedly, her hand moves up and down your thigh, her fingers sometimes rounding your leg and squeezing.

Now that you were tipsy, you’d become significantly sensitive, shuddering under her touch and having difficulty playing your part of the game. Your face feels warm, which doesn’t help the blush that you know is there.

After the other team gains an advantage of six points against yours, they’re deemed the winners and everyone helps clean up. They decide to watch a movie and Wanda leaves the dining room momentarily to show them how to work the remote and the television.

There are plans to play a different game afterwards and you hear Wanda say she has it upstairs and will fetch it so it’s ready once the movie starts.

“Come help me, Y/N,” she says as she passes through the dining room to the staircase. Wanda stops at the base of the stairs and lets you catch up with her before you ascend together.

You follow beside her quietly, looking around curiously at the second floor. You’d seen it before when Wanda gave the tour of the house, but it was different now that it was empty other than for you and her. 

With the silence, you could envision Wanda living here on her own, heading upstairs in the evening and descending in the mornings. For the first time, you feel a sort of pity for Wanda’s living circumstances. It’s a quiet house, and rather large. It’s New Year’s Eve and you haven't seen Tommy, Billy, or even her ex-husband. 

You follow behind Wanda when she unlocks her bedroom door and steps in. 

“How are you enjoying the evening so far, sweet girl?” she asks. It’s only when Wanda looks over her shoulder at you that you redirect your attention from her bedroom. 

“Oh,” you answer idly then clear your throat. “I’m enjoying myself. It’s been really fun.”

When Wanda reaches her closet, she opens it and leans down to dig through a pile of boxes. Your eyes instinctively move to the curve of her ass, but you force yourself to look away and at the dresses and coats hanging in the closet. 

“What are you enjoying about it, sweetheart?” Wanda asks once she straightens and closes the closet with her free hand. In her other hand, a few stacked boxes of board games. She approaches you and you struggle to answer her.

It’s incredible what a fool you become around her.

Wanda smiles and sets the board games atop the corner of her bed. She raises her hand to your face and strokes your cheek with her knuckles. “You’re so young,” she whispers. The words themselves didn’t sound entirely like a compliment nor insult, but her eyes that are softened in gentle admiration tells you otherwise. 

You swallow and make a noise that was supposed to sound like a ‘thank you,’ or at least an acknowledgement of her commendation.

“Come here,” Wanda says, her hand dropping to your own. She takes it and leads you towards her vanity. She lifts your arm and with her other hand on your hip, moves you forward to round the seat that’s in front of vanity. Then, two hands are placed on your hips from behind and Wanda guides you into sitting down.

In the mirror, you can see her looming above you from behind. But Wanda isn’t looking in the mirror. She’s looking down at you from above. Her hands move upwards, up your sides and up the sides of your breasts, then to your shoulders. Finally, her hands find each side of your head where Wanda finally does look up at the mirror.

Careful fingers brush your hair back behind your ears.

“These are pretty, Y/N,” she tells you. Her thumbs flick at your pearl earrings.

You blush and utter a quiet, “Thank you.”

Wanda smiles at your graciousness and runs the backs of her fingers down the sides of your face. She continues to do this for the next few moments, alternating between the tips of her fingers to her thumbs to the backs of her fingers, exploring your face gently. With a featherweight pressure, she runs her fingers across your bottom lip, your brow bone, your forehead and your temples.

You watch in silence as she does so.

Green eyes flicker up from your face and into your eyes through the mirror. They wrinkle at the edges when she smiles slightly.

“Turn to me,” she instructs and you do while she leans forward and digs through a box on top of her vanity.

When Wanda straightens, you’re looking right up at her. Your legs are dangling off the other side of the chair and your face is in front of her stomach. Her hand cups your cheek and she positions a mascara wand in front of your face.

“Look up,” she says. When you look up at the bedroom ceiling, Wanda moves the wand forward. She brushes your eyelashes gently, retouching your makeup, and you’re tempted to look down at her but do not lest you get mascara on your eyebrow.

Her thumb strokes at the corner of your mouth.

Then, suddenly, Wanda whispers, “My boys didn’t want to spend New Year’s with me.”

At her words, you look down at her immediately. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in forewarning and you look back up to the ceiling,

You question, “Why?”

“Perhaps… their father is more attuned to celebration and I am not,” she supposes. 

“Why didn’t you celebrate together?” you ask and instantly bite your tongue for asking too much. But Wanda’s thumb continues to stroke the corner of your mouth and she shows no sign of irritation.

“They didn’t want to,” she answers. Wanda moves to your other eye. “Almost done.”

There’s a momentary silence between the two of you until you ask, “When will you see them next?”

“I presume the first week of January,” she thinks aloud. “Some time then.”

Wanda inhales softly but you hear the long drag of her breath. 

“Are your parents together, Y/N?” she asks.

“No, they divorced when I was younger.”

With a nod, Wanda says, “I see.” 

Then after a moment, she speaks again, “Was there ever any partiality?”

“It was hard sometimes, from what I remember,” you answer. Wanda nods. “But I really loved both of them the same. They were my parents. They did love me, I always knew that.”

Wanda’s hand leaves your cheek and she reaches back to twist it back into its bottle. “Finished,” she states and lifts a handheld mirror to your face. She tucks your hair back behind your ears. “Look how pretty you are.”

“Wanda,” you whisper.

She looks from the mirror and over to you, lips parted. “What is it?” 

“There isn’t a moment your boys don’t know how much you love them. How could they?” you uttered quietly. “And they love you because of it. Loving them is, essentially, one of the greatest things you can do for a kid. Any child would be extremely lucky to have you as their mother. You mustn't think they don’t know that. They’ll come back to you. I promise you they will.”

Wanda only stares down at you, her eyebrows still slightly pushed together. Her lips twitch in a miniscule, hardly noticeable way, and you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been staring at them- the soft curves and the full faded-red shade of them.

Her finger hooks under your chin and she sets the mirror down on the edge of the vanity seat. She tugs her finger up carefully and you stand from your seat, but Wanda leans down quick enough to kiss your lips and you stumble back down onto it. Her hands find your hips then round them to your ass, squeezing harshly and pulling you up.

Clumsily, you trip forward against her, but Wanda steadies you. She turns you and makes you walk backwards into her bed.

The back of your knees meet with the edge of her bed and you sit back. Her wrists escape your hold and she slips her cardigan off, then her shirt. You lean forward and kiss her stomach, peppering kisses upwards while you unbutton her jeans and pull them down to her ankles.

Wanda reaches down and unzips your dress. She pushes its sleeves from your shoulders and eagerly pulls it down to your waist. With a hand on your shoulder, she pushes you back onto the bed and you move backwards atop of it so Wanda can pull your dress from your hips. She tosses it onto the foot of her bed and runs her hands up your thighs as she straightens.

She delivers a spank to the side of your ass and with a swift wave of her hand, pushes the board games from her bed, sending them toppling down to the floor.

You move further backwards onto her bed and Wanda gets on. She starts at your knees, parting your thighs slowly as she moves up your body. 

Wanda nips at your inner thighs, sucking at your skin and running her tongue up anywhere she could. Her hands find your ass again and she lifts you up from the bed momentarily so she could nudge her nose against your clothed clit. She grins at your muffled whimper and nips at your hip teasingly. She peppers wet kisses up your stomach and up to the valley of your breasts.

Her hands on your ass move up your body and find the clasp of your bra, taking it off and tossing it somewhere behind her. She gropes your breasts with both hands and moans appreciatively. She pinches your nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

Her grin widens. “Look how cute you are, huh?” she muses and plays with your tits in her hands, massaging them thoroughly and tugging at your nipples.

Straddling your hips and rolling them forward slightly to rub her clothed pussy against your thigh, Wanda pushes your breasts together and leans down to flick her tongue across each of your nipples. She kisses your breasts and then your painfully erect nipples, making you shudder. Her lips wrap around one of your buds, suckling at you and raking her teeth against you.

Your back lifts from the bed, pushing your breasts further against Wanda’s face as you moan out. Her free hand gropes your tit, her thumb having a particularly enjoyable time playing with your nipple.

“Feels good, baby?” she asks, looking up at you.

You hum out in response because you can’t manage any real words.

Wanda grins at your incapacity and switches breasts. Her saliva cools your other nipple in her mouth’s wake. Her other hand takes hold of one of yours and brings it up to your breast, making you fondle yourself.

The speed of her hips quicken and Wanda’s lips release from your nipple to moan out, her exhale warm against your skin. She straightens herself and moves to sit on your lower stomach, detaching her cunt from your thigh. You can see a darkened patch of her slick against her red panties.

She reaches back and unclips her bra.

Your cheeks and ears become warm as her tits push against your face when Wanda leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“Touch mommy’s breasts, puppy. Don’t be shy,” she utters against your forehead before sitting up and running her hands up your chest.

You reach up and press your hands to her breasts like she asked, fingers squeezing around them and making Wanda moan out. Her hips begin rolling forward against your stomach as she craves friction once more.

She squeezes your tits again, paying special attention to your hardened buds. 

Then Wanda reaches forward, her breasts only mere inches from your face once again. You hear her dig through her nightstand while you hold onto her shoulders, looking up at her face. She smiles over at you appreciatively when you kiss the side of her breast.

When she closes the nightstand and sits up, she’s holding some type of harness and a rather large black dildo. She watches your expression closely, smiling at the shock that comes over you. “Interested, my sweet girl?” she asks you with a quirked eyebrow.

You swallow nervously and Wanda slips off the bed. You watch her slip her panties off and run a few fingers through her cunt. She leans forward and sticks them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around her fingers immediately. 

She curls them in your mouth and you suck from them eagerly.

Wanda smiles and slips her fingers out once they’re cleaned of her juices. She strokes your cheek then pulls away to finish inserting the dildo and strapping the harness around her hips. 

When Wanda mounts the bed again and straddles your hips, she lays her cock across your lower stomach. Her hand reaches down between the two of you and pulls your panties down your legs.

Cold fingers press against your bare cunt and a small smile forms on Wanda’s lips at the shudder that runs through your body at the contact. She draws wide circles against your clit, her middle finger slowly entering and exiting your hole. She traces your opening with the pad of her finger while her free hand plays with your hair.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” she says, looking down at your naked body. Her fingers release their hold on your hair and she runs her fingers through the valley of your breasts all while you squirm below her. “So perfect. These beautiful tits and your young body. Gods, even at your age, I never looked like this.”

“You’re…” you manage to say through your whimpers, “... beautiful too, Wanda.”

She smiles at that but her thoughts are indiscernible. 

Now thoroughly saturated with your cum, Wanda wraps her hand around her cock, jerking it softly and coating it with your juices. Moving her hips back slightly, she positions herself against your opening. 

She lowers herself to your face, your breasts pushed up against hers as she kisses the tip of your nose. 

You feel her begin to enter you and a surge of panic quickens your heartbeat. “W-Wanda, no, it’s too big,” you plead, turning your head to look at her as she buries her nose against your cheek. 

“It’ll fit,” she presses.

“No, it won-”

You’re cut off as Wanda’s hips advance forward. You feel yourself begin to stretch out for her and your eyes shut tightly. You’re wet enough for her to glide against you, but you can’t stretch enough for her- she’s too big. It won’t fit. She’ll break you in half.

“Wanda, please!” you cry against her.

“Mommy,” Wanda corrects, hissing against your temple, “will make it fit. Just be a good girl and stay still.”

Your face contorts into something tight and anguished.

Once Wanda fits her tip past your opening, her speed of entering you quickens and you cry out, reaching up and trying to push her off of you.

She raises her hand to your breast and slaps it harshly, making you pull away from her and withdraw your arms. She gropes it, fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Do not move,” Wanda commands, each word thumping heavily against your ears as she speaks from beyond clenched teeth. She releases your breast and takes a hold of both of your wrists before holding them up above your head.

“I’m not above tying you down, Y/N,” she jests with a grin though you know her words are more than partially true. The words send a chill up your spine and you feel a shameful sense of warmth spread through you despite yourself.

She buries her face in your neck and kisses her way up to your ear. “Just relax, my beautiful girl. It’ll hurt less,” she hushes. “Mommy will take good care of you.” 

Her lips wrap around your lobe and she sucks softly at the flaccid skin. Her warm saliva cools your skin in the wake of her lips when Wanda moves towards your face. Her nose rubs against your temple, then her cheek against your own as a mother would her young. 

Her lips are pressed against your cheek and she continues to whisper soft praises and words of encouragement against your flushed skin, her warm breath cocooning you in a snug embrace.

Your hips finally come into contact with Wanda’s and you whimper. Every movement you make creates a pressure in the base of your spine, reminding you that you have the largest cock you’ve ever taken deep inside of you.

“Ah, do you see?” Wanda coos. “You took it all.”

With a shaky exhale, you nod. You open your eyes to see Wanda smiling down at you warmly and you suddenly feel extremely proud of yourself.

She kisses you tenderly and utters against your lips, “You’re such a smart girl. So bright,” she murmurs. “Mommy knows how to take care of you, doesn’t she?”

You nod with a happy smile and kiss her again.

Wanda laughs softly through her nose and kisses the space between your eyebrows when you part from the kiss. “Now, I don’t want to see you disobey me again. You ought to know how helpless and dumb you are without me. Good smart girls listen to their mommies,” she instructs.

“Yes, mommy. Wanna be a good girl,” you affirm, wiggling joyfully underneath her. The pressure of Wanda’s cock returns as you wiggle your hips so you stop immediately, though you feel an urge to buck your hips upwards to see what it would feel like.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she praises and pecks your lips, her tone suddenly maternal. She sits up again and takes hold of your hips with both hands, pulling you forward so the lower half of your body rests atop her lap. 

She pulls your ass against her lower stomach, her hips moving forward and moving her cock deep inside you.

You squirm and only feel it deeper within you, her strap stretching you out as it moves either way while fitting snugly between your walls. 

Then Wanda begins thrusting forward. With your thighs wrapped weakly around her waist, she thrusts her hips against your ass. 

Your head falls back against the pillow and your eyes screw shut at the immense pressure that forms at the base of your spine.

“Fuck, malyshka,” Wanda grunts, “you’re tight.” She places her hand on your lower stomach, drawing soothing circles there with her palm. The act relaxes you slightly and Wanda quickens her thrusts. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and restrain a cry. “Mama, too big…” you slur out, grasping at the bed sheets underneath you.

She responds, “You’ll take it, fucking slut.” Wanda pulls out of you suddenly and flips you onto your stomach. With her hands on your hips, she tugs you forward and sticks your ass into the air. She enters your cunt again and you cry out into a pillow. But Wanda does not take precautions she previously did. Her hips pick up speed and she slams forward into your ass repeatedly.

The slapping of skins mingle with the sounds of your muffled cries and Wanda’s grunts.

With the last fragments of capability you have to think independently, you hope desperately that none of the guests downstairs come through the door. You don’t realise how far ahead Wanda had planned when she first took you upstairs, nor the fact that she locked the door.

Your cries steadily turn into moans of pleasure if not fucked out of you with each thurst against your ass. Your hands unclench from the bed sheets but your face is still pressed into Wanda’s pillow. 

Her front presses against your back and Wanda’s groans exhale against the side of your neck.

“Tell mommy you love her cock,” she instructs, then kisses your shoulder.

Your words are slurred against the pillow as you answer, “I love your cock, mama.” You move your head so your lips are exposed to the air and your repeated words can be heard more clearly, but what comes out is no more discernible than before.

Wanda kisses the side of your neck and straightens. This time, she takes you with her, pulling you up so you’re sitting on her lap, your back still pressed against her front. Your knees are on the outer sides of Wanda’s, your legs spread as you sit on her lap. 

You can feel her nipples grazing against your back as Wanda thrusts upwards into you.

With this position, your moans are expelled into the room that already seems to you to be muggy with the scent of sex and the hot pants from the two of you.

She buries her face in your neck, wrapping her lips around your pulse and sucking. She bites down on another spot, causing you to cry out and jerk forward. But she wraps her hands around your waist, keeping you in place.

Her eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts, and with an amused and nearly sadistic smirk, she slaps one of your tits, and then the other. You hear her chuckle against your neck between your yelps. Both hands then grope your breasts, massaging harshly and twisting your nipples callously. 

“Mama, no, that hurts,” you whimper pathetically, squirming on her lap.

Wanda hums, uninterested in your pleading. She kisses your shoulder. “Mommy hurts you because she loves you, puppy,” she says. 

One of her hands moves down to your lower stomach. Her hand brushes over the bulge there, feeling the way it pushes against her hand with every one of her thrusts into your pussy. The heel of her hand presses down without warning. Immense pressure shoots through you and makes your clit throb.

You cry out and you feel your walls squeeze around Wanda’s cock. A different kind of pressure that you can’t quite discern forms in your lower stomach.

“My pretty brainless fucktoy,” Wanda coos into your ear. 

You feel warm pride bloom within you, but you can only manage a garbled, “Thank you, mommy.”

“I want to fill you with my children,” she pants into your ear. Her hips quicken as she continues, evidently turned on by what she’s saying. Your body jerks on top of her lap helplessly, your breasts bouncing at each harsh thrust and making it impossible for Wanda not to continue playing with them.

“Come in your pussy and fill your tight hole full of my hot cream,” she says. “I want you to carry my children. I want to see your pretty belly full of my puppies, to see our babies as cute as you. I want to come home from work to fuck my adorable little housewife dumb, until you can only take more of my seed, filling you over and over like the willing little breeding bitch you are.” 

Wanda reaches up and takes the lower half of your face into her hand harshly. She turns your head and kisses you. Despite her words and the harsh way she’s fucking you, despite the brusing handling of your breasts and the bites she delivered to your neck, her kiss is soft and possessive, her lips moving against yours in soft embraces as if worshiping them.

“You’ll be mommy’s precious cockwhore. I’ll fuck your pussy whenever it pleases me. If you’re angry with mama, if you’re sleeping, if we’re out together- I won’t spare any mercy in taking you for my own,” she grunts with the effort she’s putting into fucking you. “From now on, you’re mine.”

Her hand reaches down and she brushes three fingers side-to-side against your clit, sending you throttling forward and closer to your orgasm. 

Wanda kisses up your neck adoringly, nipping where she can and sucking at your skin soothingly. “Come for mommy, moya lyubov,” she whispers against your cheek then kisses it. “Let me see my perfect little girl.” Her free hand rounds your waist. The heel of her hand presses into your tummy bulge and her fingers pick up speed.

The indiscernible pressure in your lower stomach from earlier suddenly flowers, and at the slightest taste of your orgasm, it comes into fruition. You wince and hide your face in the mess of Wanda’s sweet-smelling hair, and a warm burst of release streams out of you.  

Wanda inhales sharply and her lips part from your neck so she can look down your body where you’re pissing all over her lap.

Your body is fatigued and now acting on its own without any conscious thought, leaving you to Wanda’s mercy as she takes your body for her own. In your complete abandonment of independence, it’s only Wanda who’s holding you up and keeping you warm.

“Oh, Y/N,” she whispers, in awe at your release. Her lips form into a grin and she kisses you. Her hand wraps around her dick, carefully pulling it out of your pathetically wet hole. She lets go of her cock and she slowly slides her hand up your cunt, allowing her hand and fingers to be soaked by your piss. “That’s a good, good girl. That’s right. Just let go, baby.”

Your cries release in short, trembling whimpers and Wanda kisses up your cheek. She presses a kiss to your soft lips.

While you quiver on her lap, your walls clenching hard around nothing and getting used to being empty after taking mommy’s thick cock, Wanda unfastens her strap from around her hips.

She lays you down carefully, onto your back. She kisses your breast, lips grazing your nipple and making you shudder. She watches you pant and squirm weakly with a smile as she slips the harness from her ankles and lays it on the edge of the bed.

The bed dips around you as you slip in and out of sleep. When the bed dips by your head, you open your eyes and find yourself looking up at Wanda. Even while dazed, you’re struck by the sight of her- her cascading hair and her breasts, the plain of her stomach and the creamy white porcelain shade of her soft skin.

Wanda caresses your cheek with her hand and when her knee brushes against your ear, you realise they’re on either side of your head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say suddenly, looking up at the older woman with nothing but admiration in the glints of your eyes.

She smiles, though from the angle you’re laying at, you can’t see the soft blush that forms across her face at your words.

Unlike before, it seems that Wanda does believe in the genuinity of your words. It reaches her, embracing her in a way she hasn’t been in years.

“Thank you,” she answers, stroking her thumb across your cheekbone. Then she lowers herself, her cunt pressing up against the lower half of your face.

She throws her head back immediately, one hand going to grip at the headboard and the other grasping at your hair painfully. A long moan escapes her and Wanda begins rolling her hips forward and back.

You part your lips, immediately taken by the taste of her pussy. You dart your tongue out and allow Wanda to ride the stiff muscle. She jerks her hips to the side slightly, teasing her clit and making her clench around nothing.

When the tip of your nose nudges against her sensitive bud, Wanda shudders and chases the feeling quickly, rolling her hips further up and now riding your face steadily. You take your breaths in time with the rolling of Wanda’s hips when your nose is uncovered.

Your lips, chin, and nose are completely coated in her cum, and you feel it begin to glaze your cheeks over in its sticky coating too. Your lips make a circular shape against her cunt, allowing you to suck at her hole then at the rim of it, which Wanda finds particularly pleasurable, evident by the way her thighs tighten around your head.

“Fuck, puppy…” she moans. “So… good. You’re talented.”

With a jerking motion, you turn your head and create a certain friction against Wanda’s pussy that makes her screw her eyes shut and huff out.

The tip of your tongue raises and teases at her hole before delving into her. With her clit pressed down against your nose, Wanda reaches her hilt. Her fingers grip at your hair painfully, pulling you up against her pussy. Her thighs tremble and a melody of pleasured moans and pants mingle.

She climbs off from sitting on your face and sits beside your hip, one leg on the bed and the other dangling off of it. Her thumb runs across your cheek. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself, Y/N,” she states, her voice a low thrum. “Let me clean you up.”

While you doze off in her bed, an indefinite amount of time passing, Wanda soon returns in a red silk robe that only just covers her ass after having redone and retouched her own makeup. She takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She leans over you and with a cool soft cloth, wipes your smudged makeup off.

Her elbow is holding herself up while she pets your head with her free hand. She wipes your makeup and the beads of sweat from your face.

Once she finishes, she lays the cloth on her nightstand and looks down at you. She kisses your face, slowly, all over your forehead and cheeks, your closed eyes, your chin, and finally, your lips. 

“There we go,” Wanda whispers. She touches your face with her fingers while watching you slowly awaken from your brief nap. “You’re very pretty, Y/N. You’re so young…” she says quietly, looking down at you with a small smile, “and your skin is so soft.”

You finally open your eyes and Wanda’s smile widens.

Subtle, muffled music plays downstairs.

“They must be getting close to the end of the movie,” Wanda says. She places her hand between your breasts and draws invisible shapes on your chest with the tips of her fingers. “It's one of my favourites. I won’t spoil it for you. I think we should watch it together, just the two of us.”

The soft hymn continues to play downstairs. 

“I love this song too,” she adds. “Come dance with me. Then we can get ready to join the others again.” Wanda stands from the bed and, while you sit up, retrieves a soft fleece blanket from her closet. She returns to you and wraps it around your shoulders.

You stand from the bed and Wanda pulls you against her chest, her arms wrapped around your shoulders and back, keeping you cocooned by the warm blanket. She tucks your head under her chin. 

“Thank you for what you said earlier, Y/N,” Wanda whispers. “Those were very kind words. I’ll treasure them eternally.”

You nuzzle your face against her chest. “I meant it,” you say.

“I know.”

Wanda cradles the back of your head with her hand, her fingers scratching gently at your scalp. She hums along with the barely-audible music downstairs while the two of you sway in the middle of her bedroom.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut

[huramuna]

blue dove - oneshot request.

dark aemond x best friend / modern

request: Helloo! Can I get a dark modern aemond who is in love with best friend reader and is possessive and jealous whenever reader meets a guy and aemond does everything he can to keep reader to himself only with smut plss😊😊🙏

warnings: smut (specifics under the cut), possessive aemond, gaslighting, manipulation, toxic dynamic, aemond is his own warning here. reader isn't described, she/her pronouns. work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is my first time posting smut & also writing it in a long time-- leave a like and comment if you liked it! <;3

paparazzi - lady gaga • baby hotline - jack stauber's micropop

content: p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, hair pulling, copious biting, creampie, breeding kink, belly bulge

She had a few constants in her life, things that would never change, no matter how hard she tried. 

One; she would never be able to drive herself anywhere. She was befallen to being a frequenter of public transport, cycling, and whatever other benign thing she could rope herself into that didn’t involve getting behind the wheel of a car. 

Two (which tied into one); she would always suffer from crippling anxiety. She didn’t know why she was this way, nor could she fix it. She tried every cure— smoking, medication, meditation, hypnosis, and other obscure treatments. She used to be a bright and sprightly child, shining with confidence and determination— she had all the makings to become something special.

She was in all of the gifted classes, read well above her grade, was an eloquent writer and an aspiring artist. Until, of course— something in her snapped. Around the age of hitting puberty, rather than blossoming into what she should’ve been, she wilted. Wilted into a shadow of what she was, who she was. Suddenly, her gifted mind turned into one that was average at best, and at her worst, stuck into remedial classes. 

She hardly remembers who she was— and dreams of what could’ve been. 

The third thing tied everything up into a bow; Aemond Targaryen. Her best friend since elementary school, they’d always been glued at the hip. Even now, almost two decades later. He had seen her at her best and her worst— and so had she. 

They were both on the smaller side as kids, scrawny and short— this made them an easy target for bullies and the like; how it usually goes. After Aemond lost his eye, she became fiercely protective over him, even throwing out a few punches and getting beaten into the dirt if anyone said anything untoward to him. 

That was when they were kids, though— when she was fierce and lively. Their roles have somewhat reversed now. Aemond grew into himself, shooting up to well above her height, while she stayed sort of small. He protected her when anyone looked at her the wrong way, even if she didn’t see it.

They were both twenty-six now, sharing a birthday just a few days apart. They were always close in everything. 

It was a crisp autumn day, her oversized sweater rippling slightly in the growing breeze. Shivering, she knocked on the door of Aemond’s flat. 

“Aem,” she hummed softly, “I’m here.”

A few moments later, the door opened— in all his six foot tall glory, Aemond. His hair was down and a bit messy. A plain white shirt and gray sweatpants were his lounge clothes of choice, it seemed. 

He perked a brow, “Didn’t feel like using your key?” he asked, moving aside so she could walk in. 

“Oh— yeah, the key,” she scratched the back of her head with a halfhearted chuckle, “I forget— and I don’t wanna just barge in…”

“You aren’t barging,” he mused with a small smirk, “I gave you a key for a reason— I trust you. Aegon doesn’t even have a key.” 

She kicked off her boots, “Well, Aegon is an idiot— he would just come here to raid your fridge and steal all your… expensive liquor,” she giggled, genuinely. Unwrapping the scarf from her neck, she instantly felt herself warming back up, “I don’t get how you like that stuff anyhow— it tastes like… spicy brown piss or something.” 

Aemond snorted, “It's top shelf whiskey, my dear. Not ‘spicy brown piss’ as you so lovingly put it,” his hand reached out to her bare neck, thumbing over her throat for a moment before he walked towards the balcony, sliding the door open. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep drag, “You just don’t have a sophisticated enough palate to get it, dove.” 

She let out a mock indignant snort, moving to the couch, “I have a sophisticated enough palate when it comes to things that are actually good— like well-marbled beef or earthy mushrooms stewed with thyme and garlic. Not alcohol,” she scrunched her nose, “That shit will kill you, Aem,” her eyes flicked to his cigarette. Another one of her one-and-done vices she used to have— her and Aemond started together, as she’d heard it might help her anxiety. It didn’t help, and tasted horrible, so she quit the next week. 

Aemond, however, didn’t quit. That was eight years ago. When Aemond fancied something, he never gave up; that she knew for a fact. He gave one of his signature toothy grins, blowing smoke in her direction, “Lots of things will kill me, dove. If I die from smoking, so be it.” he took another drag, a deep and performative one. 

She let out a quiet ‘hmpf’ noise, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. They were used to sitting in silence with each other, leaving one another to their own devices— as long as they were in the room together, it was fine. 

Aemond watched her as he finished up his cigarette. When she would look up, he would look away, as if he wasn’t just staring a hole through her. She could feel his gaze— his blind, milky blue eye boring into her, while his undamaged eye observed her like she was a specimen underneath a microscope. 

Every expression, every minute movement of her face was absorbed by him. He knew her better than she knew herself— and that was fine with her. She hardly knew herself anymore, anyways.

Her jaw clenched as she looked through her phone, scrolling through messages. The quietest of sighs left her, deflating her ever so slightly. 

“What is it?” Aemond asked, suddenly appearing next to her, settling down on the couch. 

She blinked profusely a few times— he was so silent when he wanted to be. She locked her phone and put it aside, “Oh— that guy I’ve been talking to… we were supposed to go out tonight. Apparently something came up…” her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands, cracking her knuckles idly; one of her nervous habits. 

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hand flexing slightly— then he relaxed, “I’m sorry, dove,” he murmured, “Maybe we can do something tonight, just the two of us? I’ll order Thai.” 

She continued to crack her knuckles, “I-I dunno— I don’t want to be a burden. We don’t have to do this every time a guy cancels on me…” 

It had become a longstanding tradition for takeout at Aemond’s flat when she got ghosted by a guy— which admittedly, happened a lot. 

His hands were on hers in an instant, eclipsing them and prying them apart, “Stop that,” he said firmly, “You are not a burden. You never will be a burden. I won’t hear another word of that shit, got it?” 

She fidgeted slightly at his harsh tone, but nodded, “… can we get Italian tonight instead of Thai?” 

His tone and demeanor softened instantly at her acquiescence, “Of course, dove.” he gave her hands a quick, firm squeeze before letting go— one of his hands resting against her neck, arm wrapped around her. 

They feasted and laughed all night, watching some of their favorite shows; overdramatic reality cooking competitions. They bickered back and forth about who should’ve won, who should’ve cooked what and who they think should’ve been eliminated. 

At the end of the night, she was exhausted, leaning against him. She had eaten enough pasta to feed a small horse. 

“Don’t think I’ll make it back to mine tonight Aem,” she mumbled, her forehead pressed against his arm, “Too bloated. Might fall asleep on the train if I try to go home— can I stay here tonight?” 

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said softly, his hand caressed behind her head. He always got touchy-feely late at night like this, and she didn’t wholly mind— it made her feel special. 

She usually wasn’t keen on physical touch from anyone but Aemond, no one else got it right. She had a few flings in college and they all ended sourly— all of her romantic ventures seemed to end sourly. Aemond, however, was always there— always there to pick up the pieces, to tell her that she is worth it, to make her feel like she mattered. 

It was him— always him, wasn’t it? 

The realization dawned on her, making her heart ping-pong in her chest. She… loved him. She did, didn’t she?

“You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” he suggested softly, unaware of her inner turmoil. 

She felt like her eyes bulged out of her head at that proposition, “Uh-uh,” she managed to croak, “Don’t wanna take up your space n’ all that…” 

He didn’t press the issue. “Goodnight, dove.” 

She wrapped herself in a blanket, getting comfortable on the couch— as much as she could, anyhow. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion alone, she drifted off to sleep. 

When she woke up, she didn’t know what time it was— it was still dark outside. She blinked a few times, looking around. It took her a minute to remember she was at Aemond’s. 

Her eyes, blurry with sleep, landed on a figure— Aemond, illuminated in the darkness across from her. He was holding his phone— no, that was her phone. 

He was looking intently at something, holding his phone in his free hand, typing something into it, obviously from her phone. 

Why was Aemond on her phone? Not that she minded, of course, she had nothing to hide— but what… what would be so interesting that he was saving from her phone to his? 

“Aem?” she murmured softly, “What are you doing?” 

A moment of panic went over his face— she caught this immediately, as she could count all of the times on one hand she’d ever seen him make that look. That is when she knew something was wrong. 

“Nothing, dove— go back to sleep.” he cooed, trying to sound as soft and soothing as possible. 

But it didn’t work, her guard was up, her suspicions raised. She got up from the couch, “Aemond. What are you doing?” she asked again, a bit more firm. 

“Nothing— I just needed… to get something off of your phone.” he said, still obviously hiding something. 

“What would you need off of my phone?” she pressed, walking up and snatching it back from him. 

On the screen— it was her dating app profile. The list of messages of all of the people she’d talked to were pulled up, including all of their personal information. 

“Um… what— Aemond, why are you looking at all of their profiles?” 

He stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed. He finally spoke after a stretch of silence, “I had to. I had to, you know. They aren’t worthy of you, none of them.” he said, his voice taking a serious note. 

Shivers ran down her spine, “Aem— what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“They needed to be told that you were already spoken for— that they needed to back off.” he moved a bit closer to her, his closeness suddenly oppressive. 

She shook her head, still not understanding, “I-I don’t… wh—,” 

He was on her then, grabbing her hands as they went to crack her knuckles, his grip on her tight, “They aren’t fucking good enough for you— no one is— no one except me, dove,” he growled low, his one seeing pupil blown wide like a predator, “You really think that every man you tried to go out with willingly ghosted you? Sweetheart, you can’t be that dumb.” 

Suddenly, it all began to make sense. All of her failed attempts to date after college were failures— and it wasn’t because of her. It was because of Aemond. 

She had spent years thinking that it was her fault, her inadequacies— 

“Look at me,” he grunted, one of his hands going to her chin, forcing her gaze upward. Tears were streaming down her face, “I did it for you— for us— I am the only one capable of loving you,” his thumb caressed her bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “You think that anyone else on this planet would be able to handle you— besides me? I know you better than you know yourself. No one else would be able to handle all of your little quirks, your insecurities, your fears, your anxieties— but I will and I do.”

She sniffed, “I-if you liked me that way— why wouldn’t you just tell me?” 

The pad of his thumb swiped the gathered wetness from her lip, “I’m patient— I’ve been patient— I needed you to realize,” his thumb slipped between her lips, pressing down onto the soft of her tongue, earning a small whimper from her, “That I’m the one— that you and I were made for each other, hm?” 

She garbled a tiny reply, but it didn’t come through from his digit suppressing her tongue. Even through this— it felt like betrayal in some aspect to her— she couldn’t help but feel… warmth. Something akin to sickening elation. The good and bad parts of her were fighting, her emotions swirling within her. 

He removed his thumb from her mouth, smearing her lips with her own saliva. He craned his neck downward, “Don’t you want me, dove?” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. They were exchanging breaths, sharing their oxygen between one another without actually touching yet. 

She was still crying— but she nodded slowly, “Y-yes,” she murmured. After all— he was right, wasn’t he? Who else would deal with her? Who else would love her?

He lifted his hand to her neck— he always had loved to rest it there, why hadn’t she seen it before? — his fingers pressing ever so gently against her skin. He closed the almost nonexistent gap between them, their lips pressing together. 

She hummed a tearful whimper as they kissed, the delightful warmth spreading throughout her body, mingling with the sting of betrayal and disgust. Eventually, his tongue invaded her mouth, lips moving together as if he wanted to fully consume her. She’d never been kissed so desperately before— it was as if he was starving. 

They fell into a rhythm, his hand lowering from her neck down to her collarbone, tracing the very being of her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands— her fists were white-knuckled, clenching at his shirt as if to hold on for dear life.

His large hand palmed her breast, immediately eliciting a response from her in the form of a gasp. She felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back ever so slightly, “So responsive for me already— I knew you’d be,” he hummed, his thumb rasping over her sensitive nipple, causing it to harden immediately. It sent shivers straight to her core, where she felt a growing wetness.

He shifted them back to the couch, placing her on his lap, “I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he growled, nipping at the soft flesh of her neck, “I’ve been in love with you since we met— all of that time. I’m a patient man,” he continued, leaving little red marks on her skin, biting gently, then kissing, “I let you have your fun in college— I let you fuck your way through a few guys, letting that first one take your virginity— should’ve been me,” Aemond bit down into her shoulder, slowly moving his way down her body. His hands lifted her shirt off easily, practically snapping the wires of her bra in tow. “Now, my dove, we are going to make up for lost time, hm?” 

He tossed her bra aside, her breasts, well endowed as she was, rested heavily upon her chest. He pawed at one right away, her nipple pebbling into a stiff peak. 

“Why didn’t you tell me— why,” she mewled. It’d been so long since she’d been touched this way, and never so attentively. Her skin felt like it was on fire. 

“I needed you to realize it,” he explained, biting at her nipple. She let out a cry, earning a laugh from him, “I only needed a little more time. Too bad you’re a light sleeper, hm?” 

Her body felt tight and hot, as if she was going to melt if she didn’t relieve some of the growing ache between her legs. She felt his hardness— pretty significantly, in fact— pressing against her pelvis. Almost out of primal need, she began rocking her hips against it, hoping for some friction. 

“Needy girl,” he admonished, “But I’m a giver, aren’t I?” his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, down to her damp core. “So fucking wet for me already, hm? Just needed me to tell you that I love you and you’re practically gushing in my lap.” 

His fingers parted her folds, honing in on her clit almost immediately. She fidgeted, pressing her head to his neck, breathing heavily against his skin. He worked at a slow pace at first— but she didn’t need much to begin barreling towards her first peak. 

Aemond’s free hand snaked into her hair, yanking her back from his neck, “Don’t hide,” he purred, “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers, dove.” 

She looked a mess, her face red and tear stained, kiss swollen lips parted as she whimpered in pleasure. She wasn’t loud in bed by any means— her little whines and moans were enough. 

The cord within her began unraveling, slowly, slowly, as the pleasure intensified. He was able to achieve a level of euphoria that she could never do with her own fingers, nor could any other man. 

“Aem, Aem— f-fuck,” she cried, tears still streaming down her face, “S’close, p-please.”

He grunted a moan in response, as if the act of getting her off was getting him off in turn, “Come on, let go for me.” 

The pleasant feeling of wetness turned into a rush of pure ecstasy as she reached her peak, whimpering unintelligible praises while struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“That’s it,” he cooed encouragingly, “Fucking beautiful.” 

He kept up his ministrations on her pearl well after she came, causing her to squirm, “Too much, too much,” she murmured, a fresh string of tears falling down her cheeks. 

The sight of her tears made him throb a bit— it was a wonder he lasted this long without fucking her already. He stopped his assault on her clit, prodding his fingers into her mouth so she could taste herself, then he licked them clean himself. 

Shifting their positions slightly, he laid her down gently on the couch on her stomach as he pulled his sweatpants down. She glanced back, zeroing in on his member— he had a sizable length and girth, his tip messy and wet from her grinding earlier. Her mouth felt dry and wet all at the same time and she swallowed harshly.

He wiggled her pants and panties down her legs, her now soaked undergarments sticking to her folds. He gave her a playful swat between the legs, causing her to jump. 

“So sensitive,” he hummed, pulling up her posterior in the air. His hand smacked lightly against her bottom before gripping it, “This; is mine,” he moved his hand down between her legs, pinching her clit, “This is also mine.” 

She let out a mewling moan, keening under his possessive declarations— she found herself not only blooming in pleasure between her legs at such language, but her heart wrenched and wrought against her chest in a delightful pain. She wondered if this is what it was like to be in love. 

“This changes everything, you know,” he said as he positioned behind her, moving the head of his cock between her legs, gathering the wetness there and creating a sticky friction. “There isn’t going back to the way things were— you are well and truly mine now, dove.” he cooed before easing himself inside of her, hissing lowly at the tight fit. 

He bottomed out in her quickly, his member prodding against her sweet spot. Aemond let her adjust to his size for a minute— while also focusing to ensure that he didn’t come immediately. After a few moments, she relaxed— so he began to move. 

His pace was slow and meticulous, filling every nook and cranny of her, committing the shape of her to memory. He paid close attention to when she would clench when he hit that spongy sweet spot, her hand going to the arm of the couch to find purchase, anything so she still felt like she had control. 

Her mouth was agape, strings of saliva wetting the leather couch. “A-Aem— p-please,” she simpered, asking for what— she didn’t know, she just needed more.

He took it as a spur to increase his pace, the room filled with her tiny whines, his grunts and skin slapping against skin. His arm hooked under her chest and pulled her back, switching their position to where she was pressed against his back. His legs hooked between hers and pried them open, “Keep them open, sweetheart,” Aemond bit into her neck once more, leaving a few more additions to her growing collection of marks by him, “Need more of these on you, then there won’t be a,” his stopped as he groaned, his pace quickening, “fucking doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to– you’re mine, always been mine– fuck.” his mouth was upon her ear, muttering sweet nothings to her as his free hand pressed her flat to his chest. He thrusted upward, taking her hand and putting it over her abdomen– the bulge of him inside of her could be felt, “Mine have, mine to hold, mine to fuck– mine to breed,” his breath quickened– he was close.

The double entendre of feeling the bulge inside of her and the head of his cock bullying that sweet, spongy spot just right– pushed her over the edge for the second time. She clenched and fluttered around him, earning an animalistic growl from him as he came, ropes of his seed coating her walls.

They stayed like that for a while, his cock softening inside of her while she regained her breath, coming to terms with the situation she was in. Soon enough, he pulled out, his seed dripping out of her. The stimulation to her already battered core made her squirm. 

He leaned forward, still encircling her, encompassing her in his arms. “Tell me that you love me.”

She didn’t know when she started crying again– or perhaps she’d been crying the whole time. She sniffed, acquiescing, “I love you, Aemond.”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #modern aemond smut #dark modern aemond #modern aemond #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond angst #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond angst #my writing

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#358

“Yes you.  Come here.  Are you a faggot?  Don’t pretend to look shocked.  You’ve been following me and my best bud around this street fair all night.  It’s pretty bad when even he notices it; he’s so blind to all this shit.  He’s so straight, but I encounter it all the time.  Being six foot four, blonde, blue eyed, built, and packing nearly nine inches, I get fag eyes on me all the time.  And I know you seen my dick, after you followed me into that public toilet.  I’m looking for an ass to fuck, so let me ask you again, are you a faggot?...

“I didn’t want to know if you are gay.  I don’t want a gay boy.  I want a faggot.  I want two holes that want to service me and my cock.  One that craves to be humiliated and degraded, and one that views the men it serves as naturally superior, which I am.  One that knows it will probably get roughed up, and it considers it worth it in order to get the man’s load in its cunt.  A faggot prefers the pronoun ‘it’, because it knows it’s not a real man, and it knows that it is viewed as an object for the man’s enjoyment.

“I would ask if what I describe is you, but the tent—the rather small tent at that—in your sweatpants tells me everything.  Let’s go.  My motel is around the corner.

“My bud is going to be watching.  He’s known about my roughing up faggots for years.  This is the first time he’s shown any interest in watching.  I keep telling him to get a faggot like you on the side.  I doubt that he’ll join in.  But I think with us being out of state, our girlfriends are a thousand miles away.  So, he may be open to try new things.

“You drink piss?  Good.  I would have dumped you here if you hadn’t.  I have to take a wicked piss.  You cleaned out?  Normally I wouldn’t care, my cock would go in your mouth for cleaning in any condition.  But I don’t want to freak him out.

“Unless I tell you otherwise, your focus is solely on me.  When we get inside strip and get on your knees and kiss my feet….  You’ve done this before, right?... Figured.  Look at me….  That’s to keep you focused.  I love face slapping faggots.  And thank me for everyone I give tonight.

“Here we are, room nine.  Get in there.

“Hey I told you that I would get this fag back here in less than ten minutes.  They are so fucking easy to pick up….  It’s so hungry, it’s already stripping.  No flowers, no wine, no expensive dinner, no forced complements, and no goddammed snuggles while having a leaking boner in hopes that you get some pussy later.  Hell, we haven’t even exchanged names.  It knows to answer to ‘Faggot’ or ‘Cunt,’ and it will address us as ‘Sir.’  The faggot knows it is here solely for cock.  Its will never deny access to its cunt. 

“Hand me that empty Big Gulp cup.  I have to take a wicked piss. 

“Faggot hold the cup under my dickhead.  I want him to see the piss filling it up.  Don’t worry, you’ll be drinking it soon.  Oh man, did I need this.  He’s seen enough.  Take my cock in your mouth and drink the rest of it from the tap.  Fag, like that.  I got me a good piss drinker.  Put the cup on the floor.  When I tell you to pull off, I want you to drink the rest in the cup.

“See how easy it is?  Blowjobs are nothing to get.  You know how you were complaining about Lisa only sucking on your dickhead if and when she ever decides to grant you one.  Fags like this one love it.  They will take it down the throat.  If they struggle, you just jam it down their throat. 

“Toilet fag, pull off.  Drink the rest from the cup.  Chug it down.  There you go!  Now get me hard.

“Hey, I see you rubbing your bulge.  Go ahead and take it out.  I’ve seen your dick before.  No one will know.  Fag boy here won’t tell.  Go on….  There you go.  And if you want to use the faggot’s holes just let me know.  Hell, just shove it in.  It’s not like it has a say.

“If it balks, make it regret it.  Beat it.  That’s what it deserves.  I’ve beat faggots.  Usually it’s my belt.  Sometimes my bare hand.  Like this….

“Pull off Fag…. 

“Like that….  And it even thanked me for the face slap.  It craves this type of treatment. 

“Faggot, get up and turn around.  I want that a piece of that cunt. 

I normally will lock up the fag’s pecker in one of these pecker cages.  It’s this device that I saw in this dominatrix film, that goes around the pecker so the fag can’t jack off or fuck anything.  So if you are worried about the fag poking you, it can’t.  Hell, if we were back home, this faggot’s pecker would be tightly locked inside one of those things.  And I would leave it on as I kicked it out.  I mean, I’d do it if I wanted it to come back to take care of my needs.  They can’t even jack off until I unlock it on a later visit.  Best part?  It always comes back extra horny, extra willing to do what I want.  Oh man, its cunt is so silky smooth.  You really need to tap this.

“Fag, grab one of his boots from the floor.  Start licking it.  Show him how willing you are.  There you go.  Now sniff inside.  That’s smell is the smell of a hard-working man.  Now turn it over.  Lick it’s sole.  He walks in the dirt.  He steps in shit.  Show him that you are willing to degrade yourself to the point of licking the shit off his boot.

“Faggots don’t care what it licks for you.  It does what it’s told.  You ever have a girl lick your shithole?  Faggots will.  This cunt will.  It will do it for hours.  And they will not only lick the outside, but they will stick their tongue in deep.  It won’t care about cleanliness either. 

“If it does, just sit on its face.  Or, get a rimseat and chain it underneath.  I heard about this guy in the mountains that will make a rimchair to your specifications.  If I had the space, I would get me one.  Nothing like sitting comfortably in a chair with a fag underneath tongue fucking me for hours.  I did that once when I was in Germany on business.  That’s what made me seek out fags in the first place.

“Damn, that fag is really cleaning your boots’ soles.  Want it to lick your feet?...  Wait.

“Move back Fag, he wants out of the bed.

“Damn!  That slap was harder than any I have ever given!  You knocked it off my cock.  Look at it!  You nearly made it pass out. It’s seeing stars….  Fuck yeah!  Use its hair as a handle.  Skull fuck it.  It’s your cock, you control the blowjob.

“I’m so close.  I got to get back in its cunt.  Oh fuck.  I told you that you would enjoy this.  I’m so fucking close.  I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna cum!  Fuuuuuuck!  Fuuuuuck!  God damned!

“Fuck.  You take your time.  We have nothing else to do tonight.  You enjoy yourself,… at its expense. 

“I’m going to head back out to the street fair.  Have fun.  Seriously.  When you are done, just show it the door….  Or, if you want…  I was just thinking, we are here for the weekend.  We have the game on Sunday, other than that we don’t leave back home until Monday.  If you want to keep it around to use all weekend, I’d love that.  And during our time at the game, we just tie it up and leave it here.

“Text me when you are done either way.  I knew you would enjoy this.”

[ss-skyearn]

Sugar Rush

PAIRINGS : Choi Yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT : 7.8k

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS/CONTENT : Fantasy au, multiple pov (yeonjun+reader), profanity (mild cursing), yearning, mutual pining (?), any more warnings and the storyline will be spoiled; it'll unravel as you go along. ♡

A/N : First time writing for TXT, so I guess this is my debut into moablr. Happy late Valentine's, lovelies. ♡

Just why are you the manifestation of temptation? Why does he desire you so? When he's never had you before… 

Or has he? 

Plush.

That's the only way you can describe this. This sensation.

Euphoria.

That's the only word for you to chronicle this. This feeling.

Elation of the unadulterated kind.

Ecstasy of the bonafide variety.

It's a feeling of fullness, of satisfaction, of gratification.

And all of that accomplished, merely by his presence. You can feel it. The heavy exhale of breathe right at the shell of your ear, the slow drag of his fingers along your curves, explorative, accustomed. Like he's done it a million times prior, like he's never done it before. Unlearning. Mastering.

"Play with me, sugar." A sultry whisper, a request, a promise.

It sends a tingle down your spine, back arching, body aching for more. Yet you force your eyes open, trying to make sense of anything that's not him. Given your state, it's not so easy a task.

Yet as your vision clears, you make out a black and amber sweater, the zipper down as far as it'll go, a plane of smooth skin on display. Looking over his shoulder, all you see is a whirlpool of colours. All kinds, vibrant persimmons, holographic blues, iridescent lilac, swirling and blending, converging together somewhere behind him.

It's hypnotic, looking at the whirlwind of hues, but even moreso, his voice.

"You're addictive." Silky smooth, dripping honey.

You zoom in your eyes on him, trying to recognize his features, his eyes, anything really, to know who he is. But all you see is blur, a pixelated mosaic at best.

You can make out everything in perfect clarity, everything except his face. The expanse of pigmented background, the countless variegated butterflies flying about.

Your eyes land on a magenta one, and it flies its way to come rest right on the convex bulge of his clavicle. But just as it makes contact with his creamy skin, it promptly disintegrates, disappearing with a puff, dusting his collars with even more sparkles.

You don't know where it comes from, this urge to lean forward and lick the glitter studs off his skin, but you make good on that impulse nonetheless, slowly dragging your tongue over his collar bone, savouring the taste of him.

He hums out in satisfaction, slender fingers tangling in your hair, not trying to move you around, just holding, feeling.

"Just like that."

You moan against his skin, trying to make out what he tastes like. You've had it before, this flavour of lust. Your tastebuds tell you as much. But you can't remember where.

Where have you tasted this before?

What is this taste, this flavour?

You move to his other beauty bone, and just as you know you're close to finding out what it is, you're shaken awake by a cool tinge on your neck.

Your eyes slowly fan open, and it takes a moment for you to blink through the tears staining your cheeks.

When had you started crying?

What the hell was that dream?

More importantly, where the fuck are you?

Suddenly wide awake, you snap your head around, looking at your surroundings. Grass and greenery abound, you're positively lost.

You remember being on the cruise a while back, but the vast stretch of water in front of you certainly doesn't look like the lido deck you were soaking in mere moments ago.

Were you thrown off the ship or something? As crazy as it sounds, that's the only possible explanation you can think of. But one body scan later, you conclude that couldn't have been the case. You see no surface injury, no indication of anything painful going down. You try standing up, expecting to at least wince a little after having been laying down on the sand in an uncomfortable position.

But nothing. Nothing at all.

One more full body scan and you find traces of dried up blood on your calves, still no sign of any wound.

Is this someone else's blood? But there's no living thing in sight for as far as you can see.

All you see is the vast ocean and the sand, extending as far as your line of sight goes, a row of bushes separating this piece of land from what lies beyond.

There's something eerily nostalgic about this place. It's evident in the way you know the trees are mulberry even before you catch the sweet waft of the ripe berries in the air that breezes past you, in the way you're sure the chameleon resting on the rock near the water will change colour once you touch it.

Intuition has always proven to be on your side, yet for the first time, you find reason to doubt it. So you take the few steps towards the reptile, extending your palm slowly so as to not scare it away. It hops on to your awaiting hand all too eagerly, much to your pleasant surprise. And true to form, the simplest of touches turns the dusky beige of its scaled skin to a wine shade of purple in a matter of seconds.

Your intuition was right.

But you feel no better, feel no sense of security at having confirmed the reliability of your sixth sense. Quite on the contrary, it's unsettling.

You know this place, have been here sometime ago, that's for sure, but have no recollection of it. Indeed, the sea is something you avoid being in the vicinity of at all costs, the water never failing to instil a sense of dread deep within you. It had taken a lot of cajoling- and bribery- on Taylor's part to even get you on the cruise, under the disguise of emotional blackmail.

"It's my Bachelorette."

"Can't you do this much for me?"

"You know it's been my dream since Love Island."

"Just don't go out on the deck and you won't even know you're on water, it'll be like living in a resort."

Endless arguments made, it was only a matter of time before you caved, the joyous squeal she let out more than worth the trouble you knew you would face when the time finally came to climb aboard. A small price to pay for her happiness, you thought back then. If only you knew how it would come back to bite you in the ass.

After pondering over it for a long while, you decide to see it for yourself, just what is it past the shrubs, what is this magnetic pull you're being dealt with.

Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but standing here, near the water in the mid winter freeze isn't doing you any favours, either.

So you move, seeking the gravity of the tug you're experiencing, like the sailor edges nearer to a siren, even with the smell of his demise prominent from kilometres away.

Only, it's not so much a demise that you're smelling. It's something entirely different.

Something mysterious. Something dangerous. Something delicious.

Something you're willing to risk it all for.

Sweet.

That's the only way he can describe this. This taste.

Arousing.

That's the only word for him to chronicle this. This sensation.

Titillating in every sense of the word.

Galvanising in a way he hasn't known before.

It's a sense of security, of safety, of reprieve.

And all of that accomplished, by your mere existence. He can feel your legs trapping his waist, body pressed against his. You slowly drag the zip on his sweater down, eyes fixated on every tract of skin you uncover.

"Come a little closer." Your voice is sweet, much like everything else about you.

His body moves before his mind does, coming impossibly close, the water sloshing about around the two of you.

"Let me help you now." Anaesthetic, that's what your voice is to him.

"Mm?"

You huff out a laugh, clearly knowing the effect you have on him, the power you hold.

Even if you didn't know, he'd never fail to let you know of it himself. How you have him wrapped around your finger, all yours to have.

He doesn't know why he feels the way he does. For all he knows, is that you're a haze. It's not that you're not real, far from it. He can feel your presence in every single one of his neurons, your touch setting his skin on fire, your breath claiming the attention of every one of his muscles.

But even so, he can't see your face, no matter how he squints, wills his head to stop spinning with want.

Your laugh is what breaks him from his reverie, and he gives up trying to figure out just who you are. For now.

"You just made me feel good, didn't you? My turn now."

As if on cue, his taste buds pulsate and almost suddenly, his mouth is filled with a sweetness he tasted moments prior. A sweetness he's never had before, but simultaneously experienced all the time.

He swirls his tongue around, trying to make sense of this absurd taste.

What is it?

Seemingly having noticed what he's upto, you break out into yet another laugh,

"It's okay, darling. You'll get more of me."

His face blooms red, shyness washing over him at having been caught tasting the remnants of you in his mouth. He lets out a squeak, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around you.

You chuckle, "Now now," lacing your fingers with his and giving a squeeze. Your way of letting him know it's okay, that he doesn't need to hide, doesn't have reason to fret. He's safe with you. Secure. Free to be vulnerable, to let his boundaries down.

How he knows all of that from a simple squeeze of his hand, he doesn't know. The same way he doesn't know who you are, and why he trusts you with his life.

All he knows is that he does.

And that he doesn't question it. Not when it feels so right.

A sharp pang of gut wrenching pain that he knows all too well is what jolts him awake, stirs him from yet another one of his dreams. Of visions of a being so beautiful, he's never known the likes of. Of a flavour so sweet, he'd die- time and again- for a taste.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down the thumping of his heart, the one he can hear all the way up to his ears.

That's when he feels the streams marked on his cheeks, down all the way to his neck.

This is a first.

He's dreamt of her before. He's tasted her in his dreams before.

But never has he cried like this. Never has his heart ached this much.

He swears he was able to taste it this time. This time, he promised himself that he'll remember it. But just like all the other times, it fizzled from his palate the moment he woke up.

It's frustrating, to say the least. He feels denied, deprived of what he deserves.

Soobin won't shut up about craving his lemon sherbet all day. Taehyun won't stop raving about how it's the best sorbet he's ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Beomgyu, Huening; they've all had their share of flavour a billion times over by now.

So why? Why is it that he's the only one that's left behind?

Why is it only him that doesn't know what his person tastes like?

"Good things take time." Is what Mrs. Yeon says. What she's been saying for years now.

But what does she know? Sure, she might be the community elder, the one to have the most wisdom when it comes to anything of the matter. But she's not the one yearning for someone who never comes, wishing upon every fallen star for someone who never shows up, aching for a taste that's not found in anything he tries.

And God, has he tried. The flavour lingers for a little while every time he wakes up, before it disappears from his memory. He's tried committing it to memory, finding it in anything and everything.

Perennials. Botanicals. Herbs. Drugs.

Grapevine is the only thing that comes the closest, but that's honestly downplaying it. It's near insulting to call her taste similar to a mere grapevine but it's a beginning, he supposes.

He almost fell face first into a chronic one-way paralysis trying to make up a concoction by infusing fernflowers with grapevine in an attempt to replicate her flavour.

He's been banned from the Aesculapian Estate ever since, barred from anything relating even remotely to phytomedicine.

But really, is he one to be blamed? He's desperate, rightfully so. Needy in a way he's never been.

Natives call him crazy, fixated, but at the end of the day, they aren't the ones wanting something they can't have. Wanting something they deserve, something their mothers' bedtime stories promised they'd have, something the community elders never failed to mention they would be rewarded with when the time comes.

It's unfair.

It's been years since he came of age. Years since he's been denied his mate. Years and years since he's been seeing everyone around him being paired up and skipping along merrily.

So, why him?

As he lies there, nestled among the outstretched net of tangled roots emerging from the trunk of the Bristlecone Pine tree, he feels it.

Again.

Reluctantly, he gets up and runs to the nearby pond. Aligning himself into the familiar position, hunched over, hands on the edge, he waits for what's to come.

It's violent this time around, the way his stomach squeezes, body convulsing, the breath being knocked out from his lungs.

Retching hasn't ever been something he objectively likes to partake in, but this is excruciating. As painful as it is everytime, it's never this bad. It feels like liquifying all the soft organs he has, coming out in the form of the pink, shining sludge he's seen one too many times before.

After what feels like forever, and for all he knows might as well have been, it stops, the temporary reprieve much welcome. And temporary it is, he knows it to be.

It's what, the sixth time today?

Two is the average, maybe three if the universe is feeling particularly cruel that day, but this is out of the ordinary, even for the level of brutality he's subject to on the daily.

Returning to the previous position against the trunk, he finds a semblance of normality, chest heaving a little slowly, head pounding a little less loudly.

For a reason unknown, the proximity of the evergreens has always had a calming effect on him, being the closest thing to a natural sedative.

He slumps back into the position he was in initially, the drag of bark against his back a welcome comfort, puts an arm over his closed eyes, attempting to even out his breathing.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take.

The further you go, the stronger the pull gets.

It's starting to get dark now and the range of bushes you crossed hours ago is nowhere in sight, lost somewhere in the late evening fog that's beginning to coat the air surrounding you, lacing it with a heaviness, making it a little difficult to breath.

Yet you move in a daze, empowered by this urge, that there's something, someone you're seeking.

You don't know what, or who, just that it's here, somewhere.

A faint whistling catches your attention, coming from somewhere towards the east. Its a sonic you've heard before, a note all too acquainted. It's calming and unnerving at the same time, and you're not particularly fond of the way it fails even your second sight, for you, once again, are doubtful of what is it exactly that's transpiring, every second you venture further into these forsaken woods setting off new alarms within you.

So, much like what you've been doing until now, you follow the unsaid attraction and move towards the sound.

You spot a curtain of string leaves hanging down between two thick tree trunks, violet beams of light peeking through them. Fireflies are buzzing and glowing all around them, seemingly attracted to the luminescence, the night properly pitch dark by now.

You trudge forward, reaching for the leaf garland and drawing it aside and a gasp leaves your lips.

The view you witness is something that puts any fantasy you could ever have to shame.

It's violet all over, everywhere you look. Violet leaves, indigo trunks, prop roots hanging off branches, touching the ground covered with equally purple sand. Thick roots emerge from the tree bases, entwining and curling together, forming a spiderweb on the forest floor. Some leaves shed from their petioles, swirling in the air, filling it with a flowery aroma, twirling and landing on the river. The water has a translucent lavender tinge to it too, moving in small eddies, echoing a gentle hum in the quiet of the night.

That's when you spot it, spot them, someone in the water, submerged save for the head that peakes out. Only the back of the long locks of hair is visible to you, but something within you tightens, and in the same daze, you approach the silhouette without thinking twice about it.

As he hears the sound of the slowly approaching footsteps, he sighs audibly, closing his eyes, getting ready for the blow to land. This is the time of the night when Boemgyu loves to come to him with his stories. Stories of how there's nothing better he's tasted, how much he wishes Yeonjun could have it too.

He knows he comes from a good place, he really does. But listening to him for hours on end, about something that he can't understand, is painful to put it mildly.

But it's through these conversations that he lives vicariously, the closest he gets to knowing what it would be like to finally get to have his mate, the one made just for him, and for whom he was made. It'd all sounded like a fluke the first he heard of it, like the stuff from fairytales; had he not witnessed it firsthand, seen with his very own eyes, he'd still refuse to believe it. He'd been better off not knowing, in all honesty. Sometimes peace of mind comes from being none the wiser, and if this is not the best instance he could apply that faith to, he doesn't know what is.

But the younger native he considers his brother doesn't let him forget it, makes it a point to remind him everyday without fail.

So really, it's a vicious requisite. A masochistic desire.

It hurts him to hear, but is the only salvage he gets to have for now. For however long into the future, until he's shown some mercy.

Even so, as the sound of the footsteps grows, the familiar nausea returns, the bile gurgling up his throat for the seventh time this day, rendering hours of water therapy useless.

He's suddenly on edge.

"Leave me alone, Gyu. I don't want to hear it."

Might be harsh, but he doesn't have it in him to be tactical with his words right now. With how things have been today, he's long given up on being pleasant. That can always wait for another day.

The stomps stop, but don't retreat.

"Leave." He sighs.

Boemgyu knows when not to push him, he knows when to press and when to leave, so the lingering doesn't make any sense. The sheer frustration in his tone would have been reason enough for him to realise that leaving him to his devices was for the best, the best for both of them, and for the tranquillity that envelopes the night. For Yeonjun when mad, is a sight vexatious. He isn't proud of it, but anger control has never been his forte, and considering all the times his anger issues have done him and his community good, he doesn't plan on fixing that aspect of him anytime soon. Sure, it might make him an unpleasant person for many, but it's his shield when needed, his unforgiving armour when other senses fail to be of moment. Beomgyu knows of this, so the stalling about is so unlike him.

Annoyed, he emerges out of the water, whipping around,

"Didn't you hea-"

And promptly stops dead in his tracks.

Gorgeous.

That's the first word that comes to mind.

He's gorgeous.

As you stand there, staring at what you would imagine an angel to look like, your heart thuds the fastest it ever has. A tinge runs down your spine, a feeling akin to a sugar rush coursing through your veins.

Standing in the water, invisible from the waist down, he's the most ethereal being you've ever laid eyes upon.

His jade black hair is wet, crimped and sticking to his forehead, some stray strands getting in his eyes, heavy water drops cascading down his sharp cheekbones, even sharper jawline. So soft, so silken looking.

It's weird how you know the way they would tickle against your inner thighs.

His heart-shaped lips, full and pouty, shining, dripping water. So wet, so inviting.

It's funny how you know what the plump texture would feel against your own.

His flexed biceps, lean and long, skin a fair butter tone. So smooth, so unmarked.

It's uncanny how you know what they would feel like underneath your fingertips.

You've been there, with him. He's been here, with you. Yet it feels as though it were a time no longer valid, or perhaps a time that never was.

He's beauty personified, and you are unwilling to tear your haze away for even a second. He seems to be of a similar mind, for he's been standing there, completely still and gawking up at you, unblinking. His irises restless in their orbits, the way they run in small circles within his pupils is testimony enough to the miles a minute nature of his racing mind.

Then suddenly he frowns, turning about completely, and begins making his way through the splashes, walking towards the shore. And as the water level goes down inch by slow inch, revealing more of his torso, you're a goner.

Body slim yet toned, lean muscles accentuating his morphology at just the right places, his beauty encompasses even itself as he reveals more of himself from under the water. He wears nothing but a thin vest, a poor excuse for clothing, shrinked even more due to being wet, sticking to his sides, honey skin out for you to marvel at. Well technically, not for you to marvel at, but you're going to indulge all the same. He's completely out now, swinging long limbs over the edge of the shore, bending a little, a silver spiked garland necklace clinking and bouncing against his chest. And oh, that chest. Broad and smooth, a far cry from being muscular, but still well defined, clean cuts marking and outlining his pectorals, buds mercifully hidden under the sides of the vest.

The glint from the overshadowing moon catches on the sparkles adorning his body, making him twinkle against the dusk. The gleam only brightens as he comes closer, with you now realising that they embellish his neck too.

Would they come off if you licked them?

Shaking your head, you force your thoughts to come to a halt, their intrusive nature a surprise to your dazed state.

He's a stranger, and by the looks of it, not a normal one. Normal humans don't shine, don't have sparkled necks. No matter how much you feel like you know him, in the grand scheme of things, you don't.

He's standing before you now, soaked cloth clinging to his laterals, figure on display.

One look into his deep chestnut eyes, and the sugar-like rush is back again, albeit stronger this time around.

It's familiar, the way you want to drown in those pools of honey, the way you know the pattern of the golden flecks scattered in his orbs. The kind of knowingness that comes only from years of studying, admiring, loving.

It's well acquainted, the way his plush lips part, the silky tone of his voice,

"Sugar?"

The words are as hesitant as they are shocking, even to himself. It's evident from the way his forehead creases, pouty lips taking on a downward tilt. He's just as baffled as you are, if not more.

"Is that your name? Sugar?"

You meekly shake your head no, even though every impulse is forcing you to agree.

"Oh."

"But it feels like it."

"Oh."

It's deja vu. A familiarity. A recollection.

You know that's not your name. But what you also know is that it belongs to you, the feeling of connection near immediate within your being.

How else would you describe the way your body reacts? The way your ears perk up at the mention, your tongue ready to hum out an affirmative.

It's not your name. But it's meant to be yours.

There's a moment where you both just stare into the other's eyes, standing still, the fireflies flying about, enlightening his face at different angles, casting shadows in different gradients.

But all too soon is the haze broken, and he's averting his eyes, looking at everything but you.

You fight the urge to take his face in your palms and force it back towards you.

He's a stranger, you remind yourself, ignoring every instinct saying otherwise.

A clearing of throat is followed by a quiet question, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I don't- know."

That sounds sketchy, you're aware of it yourself, but you genuinely don't know. And for some reason, you can't lie to him, don't wish to.

He doesn't seem fazed, just hums. If you were of a more sane mind, you'd find it odd how that was the first question he wanted the answer to, skipping the essential who are you and how did you get here. No, the wording he used, what are you doing here, as if already aware that your arrival was by your own will and knowledge, something that was expected to happen. If so, he couldn't be more wrong.

You know it's not your place to ask questions, to demand any explanation, but the way your heart is brimming with emotion, this feeling that you know him, you can't help yourself,

"What are you?"

His head snaps to face you, those chestnut eyes boring into you with intensity. Not the good kind. He's tense all of a sudden, almost defensive.

"Something you're not." He snaps.

You're thrown off by the bite, but despite yourself, whisper,

"I beg to differ."

The frown deepens, his gaze near burning.

He arches a perfect brow in question and scoffs, "I'd be careful on the bluntness, little one. You're in my territory, with no knowledge of who I am, or what was it that you said? 'What' I am."

He's trying to intimidate you, back you up in a corner, to seem domineering, but you know him to be none of these things. Despite his razor sharp features and tough exterior, his warm eyes give him away. He can play pretend all he wants, but you can feel the gentleness rolling off of him, and perhaps it's on a spiritual level that you feel it, because there's no other way you would have known that he, in effect, poses no harm, however much may he play the part.

"Wouldn't be so sure of that."

Now he just seems amused, the earlier irritation sublimed. His eyebrows rise again in silent expectation, prompting an answer.

"I think- I think I kno-"

You cut yourself off before the thought is said out loud. You're not sure of his reaction, of what to expect, when in total honesty, your own response to the thought said out loud isn't predictable.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." You settle.

The playful expression drops, eyes almost whimsical for but a moment, before his face takes on the neutral stance you'd found him in.

It's baffling, how quickly he changes expressions, his features almost trained to follow suit. Yet you know of this habit of his to be borne out of the need to protect, to self preserve. You wonder what had to have happened for him to adopt an outlook such as this. If you didn't know any better, you'd simply label him a lunatic with no emotional control, but you do know better- the reason for which still unbeknownst to you- and all it does is make you want to shield him from all that is vile, the sudden urge to protect this Adonis of a man running rampant.

He inhales a deep breath, and you assume it's to possibly calm himself- God knows you need to. Rolling his shoulders until his joints pop, he shoves his hands into his cargo pockets, sighs,

"How can you get back hom-," A pause, "get back where you came from?"

Not entirely sure about the reason for the need he felt to correct himself, you once again let your subconscious do the talking,

"No idea. Guess I'm staying."

Leaving a dumbfounded stranger behind, you've no clue where you get the courage to stroll right past him and towards the lake, comfortably seating on the edge, your legs crossed underneath thighs. You cast a glance over your shoulder and sure enough, the bewildered expression is still very much present, maybe even augmented now.

"You gonna keep standing there?"

He blinks, a gesture oddly endearing on his stone cold shell, titling his head to the side, confusion clear as day.

In the short while you've spent with him today, you've already decoded half of his workings apparently, for he says nothing, quietly making his way over, settling down next to you, as far away as the narrow bank allows. This is the way to tame him, you've concluded. Be unsure and he'll take it upon himself to act condescending, be assertive and he'll act not too different to a puppy, following along as instructed. It all feels too natural, taking the lead with him, not being fooled by his sham.

"So," You begin, partly to break the silence that's uncharacteristically taken over him, but more so because it's been bugging you more than you ever could explain, "who's sugar?"

He cuts his eyes in your direction, the heat back in those orbs, and you've got a snide remark ready at the tip of your tongue, having already predicted a reaction such as this- really, he's too easy to read.

Or maybe you've been reading this genre of his longer than you believe, and this is the past experience coming back in waves.

Or, you're simply reading too much into it.

Nevertheless, just as predicted, he snarls,

"No one."

And just as quickly turns away, bringing knees up to his chest, tucking his chin over them.

He looks not unlike a hurt soul masking under the veil of an arrogant persona, and no matter the displeasure he expresses, you can't find it in yourself to find reason to believe the front he puts up, the urge to 'take care' the only inclination overpowering you.

The dismissal too abrupt to have been a result of a thought-over notion, you don't believe it. Not for a second.

But you suppose you'll let it go this time, if only in favour of your own inner turmoil.

Maybe he's feeling what you're feeling too.

The desire to let your guard down, to let this complete stranger in, said desire engaging in a constant contest against preservation instincts.

"Who are you, then?"

It's delibrate, the reframing to your question, and if the laxing of his face is any indication, he registers it too, appreciates it.

"Yeonjun." He breathes, still not looking at you.

You echo your name too, mulling over whether to extend a polite 'nice to meet you' or something of the sorts, but deciding against it, realising it might come off absurd, what with the nature of your conversations uptill now.

The head he had nestled on his knees snuggles further down, and it's either your ears playing tricks on you or you actually do hear a whimper.

"Hey, you okay?" A tentative arm hovers over his shoulder, and you wonder if he'd really mind the comfort you so badly want to offer. If the roles were reversed, you know you wouldn't.

"Fine." He rasps, voice hoarse, his guttural confirmation more alarming than reassuring.

"But you don-"

You don't get to finish the sentiment, as he's suddenly standing to his feet, making a run for the small pond sitting right by the lake. And what you witness is more than enough to have your blood running cold. It's something all too personal, the way he coughs up a saje coloured semiliquid, the way you can see the energy being drained from his person as he spasms violently.

Without second guessing this time around, you run to the pond yourself, crouch down just behind him, run a soothing hand across the expanse of his back. The halting of his shivering is almost immediate, and it only serves to spur your movements as you begin shallowly massaging the muscles.

He slouches back, covers a hand over his mouth, grumbles,

"Changed fucking colours. Cute."

And yet again, you know what he means.

"Used to be pink, huh?"

This seems to have grabbed his attention, as he slowly turns to look at you. You find it perplexing too, how he could have been going through what you have for longer than you can remember, the retching a part of your daily routine by now. There's something bigger at play here, something tying you and this stranger together, something beyond your simple hunch of familiarity.

And this time when you are met with his big, glassy eyes, you find something you didn't before, something you haven't in years.

Ardour. Sorrow. Oddly together.

Not only is the strange mix of emotions familiar, it's familiar in his hue of chestnut, his champagne orbs, the amalgamation untypically unique.

You've seen this look in these eyes. Irrespective of how miscostructive it sounds, you know you have. You'd swear your life on it.

He seems to have been struck with something similar, for the newfound warmth in his eyes- something you mentally blamed him for hiding- is basically overflowing, his guard visibly dropping.

His lips part, release nothing more than a gasp, waver, then seal back. He's hesitant, not wanting to say it out loud, but you hear it all the same. Hear the unsaid endearment, understand the implicit elucidation to his apprehension.

"Can you say it again?" Your voice is a whisper, afraid to shatter this stolen moment of intimacy.

"Say what again?"

"Say my name again?"

He breathes out your name, eyes averting, a blush adorning the apples of his cheeks.

"No. My name."

He's confused for all of a second before realisation dawns on him, cheekbones burning a deeper shade of crimson.

"You mean-?"

"Just say it."

"But- but you said it wasn't your name."

A sigh of exasperation and eye-squeeze of annoyance is all the incentive he needs it seems, for he's fulfilling your wish all too soon.

"Sugar."

And all too soon is your heart thumping in your ears, the same rush coursing through your veins.

Why your body chooses to react this way is beyond you, but it's intense enough to have a deeper connotation than a response to a mere nickname. It means something more.

You know it does.

Have known all this while.

He turns to look at you, and from this up close, the sparkles catching the moonlight once again, he shines brighter than any star, any constellation, any galaxy.

He's your star. Your constellation. Your galaxy.

Your own escape, your angel.

Wait.

Your eyes trail back to the curve of his shoulders, searching for something you know is missing.

He follows your line of sight. There's a split second where you see the panic in his eyes, which disappears when he looks over his shoulders. If he thinks he's safe, he couldn't be more wrong.

"Show me."

It's not a question. Not a demand either, just a soft request, one he can easily decline, but made with enough conviction that tells him there's no way he's getting out of this one with a lie.

So he just looks at you, eyes drooped in acceptance, a sombre expression on his face,

"How?"

You know what he means, but you don't have an answer for him.

"How do you know?" He reiterates.

"I just do."

"Who are you, really?"

You smile at that, for you know the frustration he feels. You feel it too.

The knowledge that you know him, but don't.

The understanding that you know he has wings, but not sure how.

The awareness that you want him, but have no right to.

"Show me, please?" You disregard his question entirely, and he knows as well as you that it's a pointless one anyway.

So he gingerly stands up, backing away from you a little. You thought you were prepared; you overestimated yourself.

A fluttering sound echoes through the silent forest, and amidst the dead of the night, you experience a sight all too enchanting.

The same whirlwind of colours, of shades blending together, the same kind you witnessed in your dreamland not too long ago, is presented before you. Manifesting in the most beautiful pair of wings. The Blue Morpho doesn't hold a candle in the face of such gorgeousness.

Your dream hadn't been a fluke, you saw him in it. You saw his wings, felt his lips.

Once again, your eyes glaze over, heart splitting in two at the view. He's standing there, with tears of his own and you know why.

As if in a trance, you get up and run off towards him, stopping only when you're inches away, panting, out of breathe. And not out of the exhaustion at having made the spree, really there wasn't more than a few metres between you and him. But the emotion has engulfed you, your breath practically belonging to him in this moment, entering your lungs upon his command and his command only.

Your eyes trace his wings, from the arch at the top to the downward droop at the bottom, eventually trailing to his face, and ultimately to his lips. Those full lips.

You step closer still, hands cautiously reaching for his shoulders, going on your tiptoes to whisper against his plump lips,

"I'm sorry, but I really have to do this."

Strong arms wrapping around your waist is all the consent you need and in the next moment you are lunging for him, taking his lips in an all consuming kiss, even after trying your best to hold back, if only to not freak him out. It's no use now, so you let go, let your body react the way it does, let your subconsciousness take the lead.

His mouth is indeed as addicting as you imagined it to be, knew it to be. Your hands make their way up his shoulders to his nape, where you brush his hair and true to form, they're just as soft as you imagined, as you knew.

He lets out a groan in your mouth, tilting his head more, deepening the kiss. He's licking into your mouth at this point, tongue swirling around, sucking the essence right out of you, drinking it in earnest. It's not a kiss, it's so much more than that. It feels like he's ravishing you, tasting you.

A sudden tickling in your back makes you shudder, a feeling akin to having an ice cube slide down your bare skin. Goosebumps break all over you, and the familiar fluttering sound permeates the air around you two.

You pull back to gasp, shaking your shoulder blades. His wings are still there, the same they had been before, so what in the world was that sound?

You look up at Yeonjun to find him not looking at you, his gaze fixated on something behind your shoulder. You turn your head back yourself, only to be met with a carbon copy of those angelic wings somehow attached to your back.

"Wha- How.. What is happening?"

Contrary to your panicked tone, he's calm, almost delighted. That claim is proven right when he suddenly breakes out into a wistful smile, the tears making their way down his waterline.

"I knew it." He ducks his head, resting it on your chest, hands refusing to let go of your sides.

"Yeonjun, what is going on? I'm getting scared now."

His head snaps up at that, hands finding your cheeks, cupping and cradling your face with gentle care.

"Don't be scared, sugar. You're here now. With me. You're finally here." He chokes out the last words, clearly overwhelmed.

You frown, but don't question him, deciding to be patient.

His thumbs brush against your skin, caressing back and forth,

"Don't you remember me?" He gently whispers.

There it is again, the same question, the same vague feeling. You known him but you'd don't.

"It's okay," He somehow senses what you're experiencing it seems, as he doesn't push it further, "it's okay. Let me help you remember, yeah?"

And with that he's closing the distance between your bodies again, lips moulding against yours, whisking you away in a trance like state once again.

This is it.

This is the taste he's been dying for, time and time again. And to think he already had it before, once upon a time.

It's not a sudden downpour of memories that rains down to him, but a slow sprinkle, a calm drizzling, the kind that comes before a thunder storm.

And then it's a torrent, a gush of water, drenching him whole, making him lose his footing. It makes him dizzy but he'll have it any fucking day if it means he gets to taste you again.

He remembers you, remembers the time when you belonged to him, and he you. The times you spent together, near this very spring, tasting each other for hours on end. The times that he has now come to know of as the most peaceful and fulfilled. He felt content, whole.

Before you were snatched away from him, a you-shaped gaping hole left in his heart. Every single one of the memories you made together wiped, yet the hole never closed, never healed.

He always felt something in his life was missing, a last puzzle piece to complete him, a last drop to fill his glass.

And now, with your wings outsretched behind you, the same ones as his, he has found that piece of puzzle, that drop of nectar.

You taste just as he imagined. Like grapevines with an undertone of fernflowers.

A grapevine left untouched for so long, harbouring yeast on the surface. All he has to do is crush his lips against yours, and the grapes burst open, outer skin tearing, juices squirting out, fermenting with the yeast to form the richest wine to ever grace his palate.

The fernflowers that bloom for a period too short, for him only, his very own summer solstice, being fertile just for him.**

He remembers. And you're here with him. At last.

The only thing that's left, is for you to recall as well. It's going to be no difficult fate.

As he reconnects your lips again, pulling you impossibly closer by your middle, his wings wrap around your bodies, and just like every other time in the past, yours do too. With both your appendages curling over and forming a cocoon around your forms, he feels the security all over again, the one he wanted to revel in forever.

Too bad no one told him forever doesn't last as long as one thinks, but now that he finally has you again, he doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon, if ever.

When he breaks the kiss, your own tears have made their way past your jaw, wet eyes twinkling, reflecting the moon in them. For him, they are the moon themselves.

He softly thumbs them away, smiling through his own tears,

"Welcome back, sugar."

You give him a wistful smile, his own sorrow reflecting on your features. An underlying hope buried somewhere deep within the pain.

"Missed you." You mumble, scrunching your nose in a sniffle. It's something you always did back then, and everytime it made him wonder how it was possible for someone to be so cute, so precious.

Winding his arms around your shoulders, he steps forward, slotting himself against you, his face in your neck.

"I missed you more. I fucking missed you so much."

Hot wet trails run down your neck and you lovingly ruffle his hair, remembering how it always soothed his anxiety.

He stays like that a while, hiccuping and reiterating his saudade for you. After his breath evens out, and tears dry up, he pulls back, looking deep in your eyes.

"You know me, right?"

You huff a little, endeared by his need for confirmation.

"I do. I do know you, darling."

Darling.

That's what you always called him. That's what he's been unknowingly wanting to hear all these years. That's what makes him feel complete again.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is frantic, his excitement leaking through the words.

You don't give him an answer, opting to push at his chest and jump up slightly, wrapping your legs around his lean waist. It's the same, the way you fit over him, legs slipping into the curve of his waist. He knows he'll fit into you in other ways, too.

He can't wait to complete you, to be your last piece of the puzzle.

You lean into him again, sliding your lips with his, the soft sounds of moisture all he hears. As if on autopilot, his legs move of their own accord, side stepping all the hurdles, all while kissing you with his eyes closed, with a practised ease. And when your back hits the same Bristlecone Pine tree trunk he spent all day slumped against, he remembers why this routine feels rehearsed. Because to put it simply, it is. It's something he's done countless times before, carrying the familiar weight of you to this very spot.

Once there, he presses his body into you, his want eminent in the way it digs you in the thigh, his hands kneading the flesh. He feels himself getting lost in the pleasure, a throaty groan escaping him,

"Give me more."

Part 1 | Part 2

Main Masterlist

[The follow-up smut drabble will be posted soon. Send an ask if you wish to be tagged when it drops.♡]

**The fern flower is a magic flower in Baltic, Estonian and Slavic mythology. According to the myth, this flower blooms for a very short time on the eve of the summer solstice, and represents fertility. This theme will be explored more in part two to this piece.

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[erenqueef]

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨★𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

warnings: mature content! - smut

𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒷𝒷ℴ𝓇𝓃 𝒻ℯ𝓂 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

title: one date

(this was originally uploaded on wattpad)

annoying. that's how you describe him. childish. why did he get on your nerves so much? was it his cocky attitude? his confidence? what was it? maybe it's his.. tall legs, or his blood sweating torso. the way he's heavily breathing-

"y/n." he snaps his fingers. "did you forget to drink your coffee this morning or what?" he asks with his signature grin. smiling despite the condition he's in.

the fight was over, it's been over. now it's just you two in this abandoned building.

you snap out of your daze, realizing you were zoned out on his scratched up body. "shut up, just- are you okay?"

"am i okay? im always okay y/n. im satoru gojo!"

"yeah yeah.. whatever. can we just go back now?"

"your always in such a mood. can i at least try and lighten you up?" he pouts.

you don't know if it's the messy hair or the fact his shirts ripped to shreds, or even the fact his piercing blue eyes are beaming into yours sense his blindfold is hung around his neck. but you feel something you didn't want to feel. and it was your wet underwear.

"lighten it up how exactly?" you ask crossing your arms, trying your best to control where your eyes are looking, which are flicking between his eyes and shoulders.

he looks to the side, like he's thinking really hard though you knew what he was gonna say considering he asks it all the time. looking back to you he grins again.. "one date, it's all i ask!"

"no."

"come on! you should feel blessed to have the best person in the world giving you this opportunity!"

"you're the most annoying person in the world." you scoff.

stepping closer, he lifts your chin to his gaze. "i can easily make you change your mind if you let me."

you bite the inside of your cheek, as much as you'd like to give in to him, you're too damn stubborn. "..how will you change my mind?"

"will you let me?"

"fine." you look off to the side again, are you feeling nervous? well that doesn't matter cause he forces you to look at him again.

"stop looking away." he smirks. "don't tell me im making you flustered.."

"oh please stop tooting your own horn."

"your tooting it too, your cheeks are all red." he smiles, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.

"you must be color blind." your eyebrows furrow, but you don't back away when he leans closer, you can feel his hot breath on you.

(play: party & the after party- the weeknd)

"you know, my six eyes are never wrong y/n, they're telling me to kiss you, actually that's my brain."

your heart thumps harder, your walls clenching to doll the ache of wanting something inside you. "you always get what you want like a damn brat, so im not letting you."

he leans in closer, his index finger and thumb now holding your chin in place. "but i know for a fact you want it too, don't you?" he says above a whisper, his voice growing deeper.

"i don't have to answer your questions, satoru."

"then i'll take it as a yes."

you open your mouth to speak but instead of words coming out a moan does when he smashes his lips against yours like a hungry animal. his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth to fight with yours for a battle of dominance.

your hands unconsciously find there ways to his stupid slutty fucking waist, how is this man sculpted better then you?

you feel him smirk into the kiss, witch pisses you off cause you know your giving in and giving him what he wants. but you want this too. and your pussy is basically screaming like a cat in heat.

grabbing beneath your thighs he lifts you up without breaking away from your lips for a second. your legs wrapping around his waist causing you to let out a breathily moan, your pussy pulsing against the bulge in his pants. he was already fucking hard.

he walks over to an old desk that was in the abandoned building you were in, placing you down. it was high enough where you can still feel his bulge pressing against you.

he lays you down, climbing right on top of you and grinding himself against your warmth. his lips breaking away from yours only to leach onto your neck. his lips warm and wet. causing a moan to slip from your throat. his lips felt so fucking good against your skin.

he sucks and grinds his teeth against your skin hard enough to leave a huge hickey on the side of your neck. it hurt like hell, but you took the pain just cause it's gojo causing it.

you feel his long lengthy fingers trail down your body, stopping right at your lower stomach before pushing harshly, causing your back to arch and you to let out a loud moan. damn it, he knows what the fuck he's doing.

he lets out a low chuckle. "so that does work.." he looks back into your eyes, he leans close but not close enough to give you the satisfaction of his lips, he wanted you to look at him. he slid his fingers under the rim of your pants before tugging them. "cmon at least help me a little."

rolling your eyes you lift up and help him remove your uniform pants. he backs up and stands on his knees above you. of corse you had to be wearing a thin layered pink thong today. you watch as his grin grows wider, he holds your legs by the back of your knees and pushes them to you, you hold your legs up for him as he looks down and grins at the puddle leaking from your panties, you were drenching wet at this point.

without warning his fingers press against your wet underwear, his finger gliding underneath the fabric and pulling them to the side, leaving your soaked folds to his sight. he hops off the desk and gets on his knees, he spreads your folds apart with his thumbs. you clench your walls in and out desperately. "satoru.."

"you're so fucking wet y/n." he asserts as one of his thumbs rubs between your folds and into your pussy. you let out a moan as he curls it in and out of you. "god your so wet for me.. who knew eh?" he smirks.

"shut up.." you lift your head and look down at him. your eyes lidded and your eyebrows furrowed.

"look at you barking orders as if im not the one in control here.." he grins, pulling his thumb out of you, under his fingernail flooded by your juices. he stands up and unbuckles his belt, he drops his pants and boxers freely, his cock was fucking huge. "cmere." he drags you closer to the edge of the desk, pulling you to sit up straight so your face to face. "im getting that date."

he guides the head of his cock to your entrance, using his thumb to rub it through your glistening folds before pumping his whole length inside of you with no warning.

a loud whimper escapes your lips as he throws your ankles over his shoulders, he wraps his arms around your back and picks you up off of the desk, holding you like you weighed a feather as he thrusts his cock in and out of you at a fast pace. "fuck, i hate you." you whine.

"you love me," he grins "tell me you love me." his voice became needy for words of affirmation, he wanted- no he needed to hear you say it.

"i-.." it was hard to even speak considering he was literally ramming into your pussy. "fuck."

"tell me, y/n. tell me you love me."

your eyes look into his, he looked so fucking beautiful up close. "i love you," you grit your teeth. "and i fucking hate you."

he presses his lips against yours he places you back down on the desk with his member still deep inside, paused for a moment before pumping it into you again as you lay your back down on the desk. "atta girl." he smirks, grabbing at your thighs as he pounds you. "now tell me you belong to me."

"satoru!" you angrily moan.

"do you want to cum or not."

annoying, like i said. "im.. yours."

he climbs on top of you and flips one of your legs over so your on your side. "good girl. how bad do you need to cum?"

"so fucking bad satoru."

"cum with me y/n.. im so close." he closes his eyes and starts to heavily pant. "im gonna cum y/n."

"look at me satoru.. im close too.." you whisper between moans, it was hard to keep your eyes open but also hard to look away. the face he made as he quickened up was so fucking sexy. your so mad at yourself right this second but it doesn't matter. gojo was on top of you, fucking you like a fucking champ.

he grits his teeth. "im cumming." his speed picks up, the only thing to be herd was his skin slapping against yours and his deep grunts and your whiney moans.

"don't stop!" you whine, "im-" your orgasm washes over you, your walls tightening around his cock, causing him to let out a hot moan, he was done cumming but he wasn't gonna stop till you rode out your orgasm.

"fuck y/n. you look so hot right now.." his lidded eyes watch you as you ride out your high on his cock, allowing you to buck your hips against him.

once you were finally done you both stop moving to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out of you as a mixture of his cum and yours spills out of you. "i hate you so much." you breath.

"not uh..." he teases, grinning again as he leans in and pecks your lips. "so, did that convince you enough?"

you smirk. "no."

"aw come on, im gonna pick you up tonight at 7, and we're gonna have a good time."

"i cant stand you satoru, your a pain."

"i know, but you love me!" he winks. "be ready at 7 or else im gonna have to fuck you till your crying next time."

★

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #oneshot #smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru smut #gojo x y/n #wattpad #jjk oneshot #spicy content #anime #jjk #18+ only #18+ content #gojo fluff

[koufli]

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 ‘𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.’ 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬/𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞. 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭…𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐮…𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞. ;) 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, “𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞! ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 !𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐓𝐚𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞?𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟐𝟎𝟎-𝟏𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀!𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 !𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

Obsession.

Chapter 1.

Ever since I started your new job at KorTac, which was now a few years ago, Konig had always been like this. And when I mean, 'like this,' I mean completely obsessed with me.

I'm not intending to sound stuck up my own ass or self obsessed, I mean it literally. Konig had a problem. Everyone around me had caught onto the fact he couldn't keep his eyes off of me during work, and up until a few months ago, everyone took it lightheartedly.

John and Gaz made the subtle comments and teases about Konig having a simple liking towards me, nothing more nothing less, but when a few months ago I found him outside my door, I didn't take it as blithely.

John had described Konig as a simple man with few words, and much like Mr. Simon Riley, had a tendency to hide his face under a mask. Konig was a large Austrian man, towering at a petrifying height of 6'10 and had an undoubtedly dark aura that always surrounded him.

Today was yet another day of stressful work and I felt so under pressure with being placed in charge of shipment deals, which I'd been assigned to do by Mr. Price, especially when I constantly felt a pair of familiar eyes burning through the back of me all the time, always bringing the same chill to run up my spine.

As I work at my desk and try to shake off the feeling, I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a gentle hand on my shoulder. Mr. McTavish’s friendly demeanour and pleasant Scottish accent had caught my attention and indulged in a brief chat with me.

I spin on my chair to face him as he hands me a stack of papers, and as he did so, that same feeling of my neck hairs standing on edge shuddered across my body, forcing my eyes to wander behind him.

And there he was, Konig sat in his chair staring, but this time it was different. He wasn't staring at me, but at John, shooting daggers through the back of his head as his fists clenched by his ungodly huge thighs. Those same mysterious blue eyes that were wavering on the back of Johns head distracted me and I was sure I could see a vein bulge on his forearm.

I swallowed nervously, John's voice snapping me back into my reality.

“Sae by th' nicht, aye?”

His Scottish accent did snap my thoughts into gear and I glance up at him, shaking my head with a polite smile.

“yeah...yeah, sure by tonight."

He nods and walks off, humming a tune as he leaves the office. I turn back to my desk with a gruff sigh, groaning quietly at the fact I had so much work to finish tonight.

By the time work was over, I was exhausted and already on the way home. I decided to stop by at one of the shops across from my apartment at around six, the sky already a darkening hue due to the frosty winter season that was now making me regret not buying gloves. I was browsing through the isles, trying to figure out what shitty meal to eat for dinner when a scruffy male stopped by. He was taller than me, a disheveled beard surrounding his mouth chapped lips, staring at what I had in my hand with a toothy grin.

"good choice."

He commented, now glancing me up and down.

"You seem quite tense."

He says. I stare at him, bewildered at what he was saying. Strange, but okay. I smiled politely at him, thinking he was just trying to be chatty until he took a step closer.

"I could take you back to my place again and ease that problem for you."

Knowing what he meant, I shook my head.

"Seriously? You're one strange fucker. No."

"You ain't going anywhere,"

his voice was slurred, clearly drunk, but without a single second being able to pass by, a large figure appeared from behind the shelves and grabbed his shirt by the cuff. Konig stared down at his body as he violently pressed him against the shelves, making some cereal boxes topple down and somehow making the quivering man look unbelievably smaller.

"Don't fucking touch her. You even look her way and I'll break both of your legs."

He spits, his German accent thick through his anger, the man who he held by the scruff now trembling, grabbing onto Konigs wrist and trying to shake the undeniably strong grip off of him. Konig stared at the man with pure venom for a few moments, breathing heavily as the veins in his hands protruded through his skin. After a few moments of this, Konig let him go with a push, towering over him as he toppled from the sudden force that shot him backwards.

Konig now returned to my side and made sure he left, watching as the startled man stumbled and murmured curses under his breath. But all I could do was crane my neck up at Konig and stare at him, a single question going through my head.

How was he here at such perfect timing?

The thought scared me and intrigued me, but I realised that was probably the first time I'd ever heard him speak.

"Are you alright, Elijah?"

He breathed out, his gorgeous blue eyes scanning across my face and his accent sounding so sweet. Hell, I was scaring myself with the thought of him even being labelled as sweet. I could tell through the fabric of his mask he was frowning in a worried manner. I wonder what he looked like under that mask...

#konig mw2 #konig smut #konig headcanons #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig x oc #konig x reader #konig modern warfare #Konig #cod x oc #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #ghost #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Simon Riley ghost #soap mctavish #john mctavish #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #gaz garrick #price cod #fanfic #smut #smutty #cod smut #cod headcanons

[vivalarevolution]

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

Neteyam x Human Reader

Request: „Neteyam having a wet dream about reader‟

A/N: Idea sent by anon. I tried to create a bit more than the request itself said. I hope you will like the story and enjoy reading it.

English is not my native language, so mistakes can happen. The work contains smut, minors do not interact.

*Characters are aged up.

She moved so sweetly. Moaning and whimpering right into his mouth, which brushed against each other but did not connect, driving him crazy. His hands tightened on her hips, trying to pull her closer, but she didn't budge, stubbornly gliding up and down his manhood.

-My Teyam - she barely managed to choke out, her eyes glazed with tears, her hair scattered over her body, sticking to her in some places through the sweat on her skin - So good, oh so good.

His golden irises couldn't tear themselves away from her face contorted in a mimic of pleasure, even though such an unholy sight was within reach of his hand, all he had to do was look down at the place where they were joined to see the bulge that grew larger with every time the tip of his member reached her cervix.

But he kept his eyes up, something in the girl's expression was even more sinful, even better. The way she looked at him, the way she opened her mouth to make such sweet sounds, the way her cheeks flushed intensely, the way her skin glowed giving her a godly charm.

-My beautiful angel, you're doing so well - he praised her, cupping her left cheek with his big hand - So perfect for me.

-For you - she repeated, pushing her ample breasts forward so that they pressed into his chest, giving both the feeling of being even closer - I do this only for you, my Teyam, because I am yours.

Yours to take.

Yours to love.

Yours to dream about.

Suddenly his eyes opened, and the feeling of intimate warmth was replaced by a cold realization that slowly melted into his mind.

Neteyam wiped his face with his hand, scolding himself silently. It was just a dream. An unreal, sinful, passionate dream about her.

His beautiful angel.

She couldn't be anything else. When his father explained the meaning of the word to him, he knew it was describing Y/n because only she had recreated that immaculate description. And like an angel, she was too good for him, too beautiful to look at and too tempting to resist.

The young man couldn't forget her, not when she haunted his mind all the time and not when his eyes could see her so often.

He tried to be secretive but he knew he had fallen long ago, he also tried to be tough but one inviting glance from her beautiful eyes was enough to make him follow her, he tried to be relentless but the touch of her hand on his cheekbone broke him.

-Is something bothering you? - girl asked, walking next to him, their hands rubbing against each other from time to time, spreading electrifying shivers on Neteyam's body.

-I...-he started, but stopped, thinking hard about the answer - Yes - he replied, sighing, and when his eyes met those of Y/n he continued - For a long time.

She frowned in concern, looking at him more closely, after a moment hesitantly intertwining their fingers with each other. Difference in their size was significant, the na'vi's blue hand almost engulfing the one belonging to the human beside him.

-Do you want to tell me? - she asked more quietly, still not taking her eyes off him.

Boy thought for a long time. Walking across the empty beach, the only witness was the moon.

-I'm in love with a woman I can't have - he confessed, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice, failing instantly.

Y/n, unknowingly, stopped at these words, but she came to her senses quickly, putting on a serious expression on her face.

-You should tell her - she admitted honestly - We are adults, Neteyam. We can't hide our feelings, we have to face them.

Yes they were adults. Yet they still had young hearts, so fragile and so vulnerable ,so easy to break.

-I don't think you understand how much I love her - he said, as if the girl knew who he was talking about -If hiding my feelings gives me the assurance that she'll be there beside me, then I'd rather keep my mouth shut and never open them again.

-You'll only hurt yourself more than you hurt yourself now - she said in a soft voice - When you love someone, don't wait because you might lose them forever. And only regret will remain.

Neteyam stared at her intensely. His gaze pierced not only her body, but also her soul. She wasn't sure what to do, so she waited patiently, watching his actions as suddenly the whole world was plunged into darkness and nothing else mattered except the person in front of them.

As his hand moved slowly towards her, finally finding its place on her cheek, she didn't stop him. When her body was pulled closer to his torso, she let him. When his warm lips met hers in a gentle and sensual kiss, she melted.

With every minute that passed, Neteyam dreams became reality. Their dance from seemingly innocent and sweet turned into a full repertoire of heat and lust as their hands roamed both bodies, trying to memorize every shape or birthmark with their fingertips.

-You taste so sweet Y/n - he whispered into her mouth, his big hands rubbing her thighs.

-Teyam - she whimpered as he pulled away from her swollen lips, marking her neck with wet kisses.

Soon the boy knelt in front of her, but he still had to bend down to have convenient access to the girl's chest, which was hidden behind the nets forming her upper clothes. His fingers involuntarily glided over her round, firm breasts, agonizingly slowly tucking the bright material up, revealing one of her private parts.

Her nipples stiffened against the cool air, and a gasp accidentally fell out of Y/n's mouth. When Neteyam looked up, he met the girl's face ,who was watching his actions as if in a trance.

-How does it feel? - he asked close to her ear, pressing down on her ample breasts, his thumbs rubbing a pair of nipples.

-Pleasant, so very pleasant - she replied, closing her eyes, surrendering to the feeling.

-And now? - he asked again, after a moment kissing her chest, unable to stop himself from sucking on her soft skin where large red marks began to appear.

-Addictive - she confessed timidly, looking at the dark sky from under her half-open eyelids.

Neteyam merely grunted in delight, placing his hands on her spine, carefully pushing her backwards. Y/n settled down on the sand beneath her without protest, too curious to see what would happen next.

His lips didn't leave hers even for a moment, worshiping her little body that trembled with excitement and desire.

He took his time, exploring every inch of her body with his tongue. Her belly, her navel, her hips, her thighs, her knees, her calves, her ankles. Nothing has been missed.

-Will you let me? - he asked, his fingers gliding along her inner thighs, feeling how wet and warm they were.

-Of course, Teyam - she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, carefully grabbing his braid so that he could feel at least a little of what she felt right now.

The boy moaned softly, pressing their foreheads together. He was so sensitive that even the slightest touch of her fingers on his kuru sent shivers down his spine.

-No - he said suddenly, and Y/n looked at him with questioning eyes - Tonight, I want to worship you my Y/n, nothing more. It's only you that counts - he added, looking at her with his golden eyes, from which adoration poured out.

Young woman, smiling tenderly, kissed him one last time before getting comfortable, spreading her legs for Neteyam, who followed her movements. His hands massaging the skin on her ribs.

-I'm yours my Teyam. Do whatever you want with me - she said softly, and he almost got a whiplash.

Those words. He felt like he was dreaming again, but the warm skin under his fingers, the sand under his feet and the girl's rapid breaths made him realize that everything was real.

The dark-haired na'vi lay on his stomach, placing Y/n's legs on his broad shoulders. His lips pressed against her swollen womanhood, which was dripping with juices, twitching and begging to be taken care of.

Her body arched as he began to feast between her legs, ravenous, devouring everything her flower of femininity was giving him. She writhed under him, moaning and whimpering alternately, unable to stop herself. And when Neteyam slowly inserted two of his fingers inside her , filling her up to the brim, the girl couldn't stand it, screaming in ecstasy that took over her body.

Feeling the walls of Y/n tighten on his fingers, making him barely able to move them, he sped up, wanting to hear once again the beautiful sounds that were directed only to him, his tongue not even for a moment detached from her folds, riding lazily up and down, occasionally entwining around her clitoris.

And then he felt her sweet nectar, sweeter than anything else he had eaten or drank.

He felt enslaved, but he didn't care. As long as he could feast between her thighs, listening to her sweet moans and whimpers he didn’t care. 

Because his sinful dream became an even more sinful reality.

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader smut #avatar the way of water x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x fem!reader #na'vi #na'vi x reader #neteyam sully #avatar fanfiction

[atxxokirina]

Pain Reliever (18+ MDNI) —

Lo'ak x Fem Na'vi reader

—𓆉

Plot: You've been working as a tent healer for nearly six months. The role had it's pros and cons, but nonetheless, you loved your job. Crafting remedies, tending to injuries- anything that was related to being there for your people, you enjoyed. Once Lo'ak comes in with a specific ache in his shoulders, you decide to help him out, and be his pain reliever

Contains: Massage gone sexual, almost caught, doggy style, Lo'ak calling reader "mama", creampie, & Lo'ak making reader use their words. Let me know if I missed anything ;)

Na'vi key/Translation: Fpomtokx - health (physical) Tewng - loincloth

It was just before eclipse. Some time after the war party had returned. Not many were injured, and the most you had to deal with was a small gash on one of the warrior's legs. As you're packing your supplies into your pouch, you're interrupted by the tall, blue figure in front of you. You look up, tilting your head with a sideways smile.

"Hi, Lo'ak." You say in a sarcastic tone, shoving a tube of lotion into the bag. "Don't get too excited," he laughs, kneeling down in front of you.

"Do you need something? If not, I'm heading home." You sighed. Standing from your position, peering down at him. "Yeah, uhm," he spoke, diagonally rubbing his shoulder blade. "I have this pain in my back, think you can help me?" He stands with you now. "I wish you'd seen me sooner." You sigh with an eye roll as he smiles at your response.

"Alright, come on." You pat the cot. "Just lay down, I'll get to you in a second." He nods, strutting over to your cot as he plops down. "Thanks, mama." Your ear twitches at the name. "U-Uh huh. No problem.." You bend over to your pouch, searching your fpomtokx oil.

You knew him calling you 'mama' probably meant nothing, but the way he said it almost made you fall to your knees. As you pull out the closed tube of oil, you make your way back over to him.

"How long has it been hurting?" You ask, dotting the liquid into your palm. Lo'ak smiles warmly as you walk over, laying down as ordered. "Maybe a day or two? But it's nothing too bad. I'm still mostly fine." He lets out a tiny sound of relief once you apply the ointment to his skin. "That feels great.." Lo'ak groans quietly.

"That's good," you clear your throat, pushing into his lower collarbone. Closely watching as he closes his eyes. You carefully listen in on his low moans, keeping an eye on the way he bites his lips. It sounds like music when it's from him. You can feel butterflies forming in your stomach, and a small pool of wetness fill your tewng. "It really helps when someone else does it." He mumbles, still in a trance.

"Yeah? Well I'm glad I could help." You smile, pressing one last time onto his shoulders before you cap the tube. Lo'ak sat up after you finished. His dark auburn eyes focused on yours.

And, fuck, he is so hot like this. His entire body oiled up, and tender.. words cannot describe how badly you wanted him in this moment.

And if the Great Mother gave you a chance, you'd suck his di-

"Everything okay?" Lo'ak tilts his head to your view, pulling you from your deep thoughts. "Y-Yes, everything's fine. Sorry," You apologize, tripping over your words. "If the pain returns, please come see me again. I'll do my best to help you." You nod.

"Mhm. Yes ma'am." Lo'ak replies. His voice raspy and husk, almost throwing you in another daydream. Just as you turn around, you feel a large set of hands pull you back. You yelp in surprise, feeling your ass press against Lo'ak's hard on. You can hear his soft chuckles. He's loving your reactions.

Lo'ak stood from his seat, pressing into you more, and his bulge is more prominent with your pussy now. Without a word, he starts to kiss your lower back, slowly caressing your skin and holding onto your waist. He whispers into your neck before gently biting your it. "Mmm.. Don't go just yet."

You almost gave in to his advances as your eyes flutter closed, until you remembered where you were.

"Lo'ak, what if someone walks in.." You quietly speak before he claws into your pelvic bone, forcing your ass to press into his dick. "Shit, mama.. you think I give a fuck about that?" He groans, dry humping you now. You feel a fire bubbling inside of you, mixed with butterflies and the pulsation of your cunt. He pulls the front of his loincloth down, his cock springing out and lightly tapping your back.

Lo'ak continues to grind his cock against you as he begins untying your loincloth. "Feel me, baby?" He huffs, desire growing by the second. Eventually, he gets your loincloth off. Pulling one last string as it instantly falls to your feet.

You let out a full moan as you felt his warm cock against your ass. He holds your waist with one hand while fisting his cock with the other, teasing your slick slit. "Uh.." You quietly mewl, leaning your head back into his shoulders. Lo'ak smirks at your submissiveness. "Mhm, that's right." Your core parts are heating up with arousal. It's useless to resist now.

You start to buck back onto his cock, sliding back and forth as he held it in place. "Oh, fuck yeah.. That's it, mama. Keep that pussy on me." Lo'ak moans. His hold on your waist only becoming more firm. You whine in response as you get completely lost in the feeling.

His mushroom-like head is prodding against your clit, pushing an addicting feeling with each tiny thrust. "Tell me what you want." He demands, swiftly moving the hand that was on your waist to your mound, ghosting his fingers over it. "Ah- I-I want you, please." You whimper.

"Mmh.." He inches his cock into you, gently parting your lips as the tip slides in. He stops once his head is submerged inside of you. "C'mon, you can do better than that. Beg harder." He demands. "Please, please, Lo'ak. Just fuck me.. I want it so bad, I need it. Make me feel good, please.." You continuously beg, and it's simply music to his ears.

"That's better." He affirms before shoving his full length inside of you. You squeal as he uses your hips as leverage, panting with each thrust. Lo'ak's motion doesn't stop, he's fucking you like his life depends on it.

"This little pussy feels so fucking good around me." He grunts with a sharp exhale, throwing down one smack to the right side of your ass. You cry out, followed by a moan. "Look at the way it bounces back for me, shit.." He chuckled.

"P-Pleaseee, Lo'ak. Don't stop!" You cried another beg. "Ah..haah!- nghhh!" The quick rythm he's obtained causes your sweet spot to coil up, you gasp and mewl at every chance you get as his cock knocks the wind out of you. "You love this dick, don't you?" He hums, slowing down and grinding his hips up into your cunt.

"M-Mhmm!" You respond, completly drunk off of him. "Nah, say you love it. I wanna hear you, mama." His thrusts come to a halt, making you whine. "No, no.. Why did you stop?" You try to fuck yourself back onto him, but he holds you in place, leaning down to your ears.

"Say it."

His voice was deep. A type of deep you couldn't resist, even if you tried. "I love your dick, Lo'ak. Ah! I love it so much. Please, keep fucking me." You whimpered. It seemed to be enough because just at that, he goes right back to pounding you into oblivion. You mewl and screw your eyes shut, practically screaming for him as his cock twitches against you, closed in by your walls. "You're gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that. Hmhng, fuck.."

You convulse. Trying your best to follow his pace as your climax approaches. "I'm gonna cum too! Oh fuck, fuck!" Lo'ak dug his nails into you, his low groans only helping your cum build up inside. "Fuck, baby. I'm c-cumming inside you.. Cum with me!" He threw his head down, pelvis hitting your ass while his warm seed filled your womb.

"Take all this cum, take it all for me, baby."

You whine as your natural liquids mix with each other, hearing it gush and seep out of you as his pulls out. "Fuck.." You sigh, immediately laying down as your legs tremble. He leant against the cot, looking down at you, his breath also absent.

"Y/n," Lo'ak starts. "I know you're tired but, we can't rest here." You mumble nonsense, far too fucked out to care about what he's saying. As he's fitting his tewng back on, he reaches down to grab your arms. "Come on, you can sleep at my—"

"Hello? Y/n? Have you seen my brother?"

All laziness jumps out of you once you hear Neteyam at your door. You shoot a concerned look toward Lo'ak as you heart pumps. He shakes his head at you, mouthing the words, "No"

You're internally freaking out. If you could ever magically disappear, now would be the time.

"Y/n, are you there? Can I come in?" Neteyam knocks again.

"No! No, he's not here." You hurriedly respond.

"Oh, well do you know where he might be?"

You look over at Lo'ak again for an answer. He shook his head. "No, Neteyam. Sorry." You gulp. "I'll let you know if I see him." You add on, a nervous laugh escaping you.

"Ah, alright. I'll see you later then." Neteyam speaks through the door one last time before hearing his footsteps fade away.

— 𓆉

A/N: hi guys, I know I've been dead for the past couple of weeks 😭 I was on somewhat of a hiatus. I've been sooo overwhelmed with all of the requests I'd gotten, (which is so stupid of me because I literally asked for them 🤨) but anyways, I'm back! And I'll be working on the requests I have currently, as well as the other fics I personally have been writing. Feel free to send requests ofc, but just know it might take me a while to write them. I love you all sm, MWAH 💙

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrotherslover @tsireyafilms @teyamsgrl @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn @hidingfrommanda @whore-for-hawks @ele-sme @lowryv @teyamsatan

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam #neteyam sully #loak sully #avatar fanfiction #ff #jake sully #neytiri sully #atwow smut #avatar the way of water smut #avatar smut #loak x yn #loak x you #loak smut #atxxokirina #loak sully smut #loak sully x reader #avatar loak #loak x reader #reader x loak #atwow loak #avatar loak sully

[the-volunteer-host]

Shared home

Billy stood on his balcony looking over the seas while a cloud of blue smoke sneaked up on him from behind. Even though this would have seemed ominous for an observer, it wasn't really for Billy. The cloud floated up beside him and stopped beside his head. Billy noticed the visitor and a grin crossed his face when he said: "That was about time, today is you time and I will be watching" A somewhat weird sound emitted from the cloud of smoke which could be mostly described as a frustrated "pff". But before anything else happened Billy turned towards the visitor and started to inhale, at first it seemed that the smoke fought back, but actually far from it. This was a game these two had played many times.

"Come on Joe, stop teasing" came from Billy while taking a short break from trying to inhale the visitor. Billy leaned back against the wall, tilted his head to the back, closed his eyes and opened his mouth again. This time however there was no struggle between the two entities and the smoke slowly started pouring into Billys mouth. The expression on Billys face made quite clear that this was an exciting moment, pleasurable even. And if it wasn't clear from his face, the bulge building in his pants was pretty obvious. More and more of the smoke or Joe as Billy had called it poured into him and Billys legs started to shake from excitement.

Today Joe was really taking his time, making all this even more pleasurable than usual. Suddenly Billys legs stopped shaking from his feet crawling up through his body, Joe was taking control. This went on for minutes, very very pleasurable minutes, visiable by a now twitching dick in their pants and a showing wet spot in front of them. Billy was leaking all that pre-cum into their shorts. When Joe skipped parts of the body and next possessed Billys left arm and slowly shoving their hand into the pocket of their pants in order to start jerking Billys cock. Joes possession kept creeping through Billys body and was starting to take over the fun parts he was already playing with. Billy completely lost in the pleasure of his own possessed hand jerking him off while other parts of his body were slowly taken over sharply inhaled. This took Joe by surprise, and he was instantly and fully sucked into the body he was invading.

This completed the possession in a rush and Joe was now in full control with Billy on the backseat. Lost in the mixture of physical pleasure rushing into him and the change of perspective from the possession, Joe lost all control and in unison both the host and the possessor started moaning while cum was drenching their beach shorts.

Joe opened their eyes and tried to calm their now shared body down for a good few seconds.

"Dude, when you moved into my flat, we agreed that I shared my home while you shared your body. Who would've thought you were so much into this, after all. But really you could've taken the shorts off first, as usual I am the one to put on clean clothes before going to the beach." A voice at the back of their mind, Billys voice responded: "It's not like any of us is losing on our arrangement. And now enjoy your day while I sit back, relax, watch and hopefully can enjoy some jock you hit on."

#gay #possession #volunteer possession #ghost #body possession

[madxyy]

anything for munson pt.2 - eddie munson x fem!reader

| summary: eddie takes you out on a date...and more ;)

| warnings: smut, use of pet names, cussing, unprotected p in v (please practice safe sex kids), praise kink, possessive kink?, banter, eddie still being a menace, CHEESY, bantering, unrealistic orgasm

a/n: i tried not to describe hair, also tysm for sm love on pt.1 mwa

Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust the straps of your overalls. Your eyes raked over your figure as you took into account what you were wearing, a white plain t-shirt underneath the denim material, cherry chapstick adorned on your lips, giving it a tint of red. You hummed in approval.

You and Eddie decided to just stay in and cook dinner (although ‘dinner’ might not be the word you’re looking for). He insisted "a queen like you needs a fancy dinner and luxury", but you told him you didn’t want anything that big, just spending time with him is enough. You’ll always remember the way his cheeks blushed when you said that.

 A honk coming from outside made you jump. You got your bag and speed walked to the front door. Opening the door, you stand on your front porch and lo and behold you see eddie munson, standing outside of his van looking handsome as ever, hands behind his back, washed up blue jeans settled on his hips, a cropped black metallica t-shirt, and black boots. 

His whole face lights up as he sees you. 

Coming down the steps, he wolf whistles, “damn baby, might I say you are looking very very hot this fine night, like come and plant vegetables at my farm.” You lightly punch him in the arm as you giggle “oh my god! you are so stupid”, he pulls you by the waist and you instinctively put your hands on his chest “stupid for you.” 

Rolling your eyes “ookay stop being cheesy”

“never” giving you a radiant smile, god he’s so beautiful 

You both stood there for 10 seconds just taking in each other's presence. As much as you would like to stand there and gaze at him , you had a date to go to. “Alright, alright, let’s go munson, we can’t stand here all day looking at each other”, he puffs out a breath

“why not? It’s basically looking at art, so we are basically at an art museum” you shake your head as you smile “you promised me a date munson.” He sighs but reluctantly releases the grip he had on your waist and opens the door for you, “my lady” he bows, you roll your eyes god I love him. After settling into the passenger seat, he closes the door and gallops–yes, gallops–to the other door.

 He looks at you, giving you a beaming smile “are you ready for the most mind blowing sex.” You bark out a laugh “eddie I swear to god i’m going to get out this van” fingers already curled on the handle. 

“No no i’m just kidding sweetheart, I’ll stop” 

You give him a look

“No you’re not.” 

A guilty smile slowly creeping its way onto his lips “you’re right.”

Let’s just say the whole car ride consisted of banter and scolding, once when eddie almost ran a red light, then again when the cars behind him were honking because he was too distracted looking at you, after hearing all the honkings you turn to him telling him to keep his eyes on the road and that resulted to him blaming you. You turned to him, jaw on the ground, eyes bulged out, “what do you mean that was MY fault?!” he rolls his eyes “listen babe, if you didn’t look so damn beautiful in green lighting we wouldn’t be in this predicament” he said matter-of-factly.

“As soon as we get out of this car, i’m going to literally strangle you munson”

You can already see the gears in his head forming an inappropriate joke from a mile away. His mouth started to open but was quickly interrupted “don’t you dare say it eddie”, he closed his mouth but a smirk still on his face. 

“Wow, you’re just cruel y’know that, like why don’t you like me for me? How come I can never be myself?” 

“I’m literally on a date with you and please for the love of god don’t start this, you have been saying this ever since I took the last pizza slice and that was 2 years ago”

“Still.”

As soon as you arrived at his trailer, he rushed over to your side and opened the door, “can’t have a goddess waiting”, he offered his hand, you accepted and stepped out the van “why thank you, my dear lord.” He grins.

Stepping into the familiar trailer, you get flashed backs of the last visit here–a very pleasant visit–eddies lips, the taste of liquor still etched on your lips, his rough hands on your hips, messy kisses as your clothed folds started rubbing against his thighs, back and forth, back and forth, rough palms cupping your cheeks, eddie breathlessly murmuring–”baby?”, blinking out of your daze, you realized how damp your underwear has become - shit it’s the beginning of your date. Get it together. Clearing your throat “yeah, sorry”, he chuckled, “it’s okay, I just asked what type of flavor do you want”, you think for a second “mmm chicken is sounding really good right now.” He gives you an approving nod “I'm glad I chose a woman with basic taste.” You scoff “oookaaaay buddy, i’m literally dating you” he shoots you a look that makes you bark out the most horrendous laugh “ha ha ha, so funny, I take that as a compliment, you are just basically calling me spicy”. The sounds of your laughter automatically come to a stop as soon as the word ‘spicy’ leaves his mouth.

“Why must you always ruin my fun” 

“Because ruining your fun is my fun” 

You cross your arms and pout at him, he chuckles as he gives you an affectionate smile, “i’m just kidding baby, c’mere” he says opening his arms for you. You sigh and drag your feet to the him, “I don’t know why I have to go over there, you should be coming to me” midway of saying that you were already hugging him, face squished into his chest, arms circled around his back as his hands come up from his side to grasp your chin, angling your head to look at him “you weren’t putting up a fight nor are you complaining at the moment.” Narrowing your eyes, “whatever, let’s just make this already, i’m hungry.” He smiles in triumph as he finally won “of course my queen”, you step in front of the stove; packets of ramen open and sitting patiently to be boiled, the pot already filled with water, lime and packets of chicken flavor also idly sitting by the side. Eddie turns the handle “now we shall wait”. You hum, 

“in the meantime,” looking up at him

“we should put on some music”

“fine but only if I get to pick the songs” 

He makes a dramatic sigh “listen babe, no hate, you are a true angel from heaven, seriously, but you listen to music that makes me fall asleep and I seriously can’t handle it” 

“pleaseee” batting your lashes as you smile innocently

Pursing his lips “that’s not fair”

Still smiling up at him while awaiting his answer “FINE!” you squeal and run off to his room to put on music that sure as hell will make his ears bleed. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as soon as he heard the trailer humming with Al Green’s voice. But it was bearable as soon as he heard your voice sing along with it too even if it was bad singing--but he won't admit that, “I’M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU”, shaking his head “stop torturing me”, ignoring what he said, you decided to make a whole performance and grab the closest thing shaped as a microphone–which was a small silver spoon–and started swaying your hips to the beat. “‘CAUSE YOU MAKE FEEL SO BRAND NEEEEWW.” He bit his lips as his eyes were focused on you and solely on you–although since it’s Eddie, he can’t help but be a little shit.

”Why must you do this to me? make it stop, my ears are ringing, oh my god, i can already feel the blood” 

“oh my god! stop being a baby and come dance with me”

“nah i’m good”

“oh come on munson, just one dance and you can go back to sulking”

Still not budging from his spot, you dance towards him, hips swaying to the tempo of the song. He’s already frantically shaking his head as you get closer, but you don’t care as your hands reach out towards him, grabbing hold of his shoulders, his folded arms naturally goes towards your waist. As you hum the song he looks down at you with an amused smile.

“Stop being stiff eddie and move those hips of yours”, he chuckles 

“Fine, but only because I know how badly you want to see these hips move”

You shake your head in disapproval “whatever you say”

His hips starts swaying with yours as you both moved smoothly to the music. 

“Wow, who knew you can move your hips”,

“I've been telling you”

Swaying in each other's arms, you look up at him with captivating eyes, “y’know you’re really handsome eds” he softly smiles down at you, “you’re not so bad yourself my love.” Just looking at him makes your heart pound rapidly against your chest. 

Soon enough, one of his hands comes up and grasps your chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh. The pad of his fingers slowly makes its way to your lips, tracing and tugging down at the plump skin. Shallow breaths hit his hands, “eddie...” you say horsley. His Index finger slowly pushing its way into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around his digit making a whole show for him as you stare directly into his eyes. Grabbing a hold of his wrist, you suck back and forward, batting eyelashes looking up at him. “Fuck” he exhales, you detach your lips with a ‘pop’. You clean up after yourself as the pad of your fingers glides underneath your lips, taking off the excess of saliva. “Come on munson, the food shan’t wait anymore”, you giggle silently to yourself as he stands there frozen, mouth agape, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, breathing heavily,“baby wha-“. With a smirk displayed on your lips, you quickly pull yourself back—before he has a chance to do or say anything—and put the ramen into the boiling water. 

As you start mixing the noodles you feel a warmth pressing to your back, eddie stands behind you, needy hands reaching underneath the blue denim to sprawl across your stomach as he plants sweet kisses to your neck, lightly pushing at his head “eddie i’m hungry” you whine. But he doesn’t buy it. He chuckles dryly, paying you no mind as he removes one of his hands to drag down one of your straps, slowly, painfully slow. He leaves a messy kiss on the new exposed skin, “baby, don’t act innocent now,” electricity sent straight to your spine, “sh-shut up cmon-”. You hear a ‘tink’ and are quickly turned around by eddie, breathless “eddie what are you doi-”, a muffled whine coming out as his lips pressed to yours, quickly pulling back, “eds, what about the food?” you say breathlessly (like you actually care about the food). 

He smirks at you with lust filled eyes, pulling you by the nape until you can feel his breath hitting your lips, “baby, quite frankly that’s not what i’m hungry for, so how about you shut up and I make you feel good, hm?”, not even having a chance to respond, he crashes his lips to yours. His body pushing yours against the stove, hands tangled in his hair in an instant, pulling him closer, harder against your lips as the smell of tobacco and sandalwood overtakes you. It was like heaven to both of y'all, especially eddie, he wanted to kiss you ever since that saturday night, god he couldn’t get enough, he needed more, he needed you. 

Lips still colliding, he crouches down and shortly enough, you feel rough palms grab a hold the back of your thighs, “up” he demanded. You happily obliged. 

He picks you up and walks you down the hall to his room, feet kicking the door shut. Softly laying you down on his bed, he stands and he can’t help but take the sight of you in, flushed cheeks, droopy eyelids staring back at him with dazed eyes, parted lips. “Babe, are you going to stand there all day or are you going to fuck me, hm?.” Blinking rapidly out of his haze, “uh ye-yeah,” clearing his throat  

“damn give a man a chance to appreciate the beauty in life, okay” 

“Whatever, just get over here”

Making a salute, “aye-aye whatever you say, my queen,”

Shaking your head you softly whisper to yourself “stupid” 

Eddie was too busy taking off his shirt and disregarding it on the floor to pay attention to what you were saying–thank god, he would’ve made a whole scene. But now it was your turn to take him in for all his glory, curls ruffled everywhere, cheeks also flushed, tattoos that you can’t wait to put your lips on, kissing each of them, one by one. 

“Babe, are you going to sit there all day or are you going to let me fuck you, hm?” 

“Damn give a woman a chance to appreciate the beauty in life, okay” you retort his words back to him

The corner of his mouth lifts. 

Making his way back to the bed ended abruptly as the palm of your hand made contact with his abdomen, nails lightly scratching at the happy trail that disappears underneath his washed up blue jeans. You look up at him with the most beautiful bedroom eyes, “you forgot one thing” you whispered. He couldn’t move, it’s like he was glued to the floor.

 He was going to say something, literally anything but all his thoughts vanished as soon as he saw the mischievous smile you’re giving him. You kept eye contact with him as your hands unbuttoned the jeans, pulling the zipper down. Your hands brush against his clothed bulge. He sharply inhales at the contact. Pants disregarded to the floor. You push yourself back up the bed and eddie quickly follows after you. 

As your lips meet again, he could taste the sweetness of your lips, the cherry chapstick you always wear that he always loved. He could smell your perfume, a mixture of you and him that made his head swim. The warmth of your body pressed against his had him shivering. Hands everywhere, legs arched beside him, one of his hands cradling your face as the other one is attached to your hip. His clothed erection grinding against you “shit” he panted. “Baby you need to take everything off right. now.” Say no more. Unfortunately, you lightly push him off. Missing his warmth as both of your clothes now are forgotten somewhere in his room. 

Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes, a true fucking art piece oh my god, he thought to himself. There you were, left in nothing but your bra and underwear, staring at him. 

You smile shyly at him, “wh- what, do i have something on me” he doesn’t miss a beat as he shakes his head. “No no it’s just,” nervous eyes looking back at him, he sighs “you have” he kisses your knee “no idea” then your belly “how beautiful” and finally your lips “you are.” You were left breathless and the only thoughts were to bring him down and crash your lips together. 

The tips of his fingers make their way to the clasp, sending goosebumps up your back “may I?” you smile “of course”, He quickly unhooks your bra. “There’s my girls” your feet pushed at his torso, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled it back where it was beside him as he kissed on the valley in between your breasts, basically making you putty in his hands. 

You let out a soft sigh and let your head fall back as he starts biting and sucking on the pink flesh. While the other hand kneeds and twists the bud with his thumb and index finger. “Eddie….please” you whine as you squirm under his touch. With a loud ‘pop’ he removes his mouth from your nipple, your buds hardening by the cool air. He looks up at you with the most beautiful lust blown eyes. 

You whine at the loss of contact. “I know baby, I know…” softly pecking underneath your belly button. He leaves a trail of kisses until he reaches the elastic of your underwear. He pauses and looks up at you. You give him an affirming nod, he gazes lovingly at you as he tugs down the cotton material down your legs. 

His mouth waters at the sight of you, completely bare underneath him. Eddie attacks your lips, sighing into the kiss a little too loudly. His hands wander everywhere on your body, he practically moans at the feeling of your skin on his. Your hands are tangled in his hair again. Legs arched up beside him. He starts to kiss down your body but you quickly pull him back to your lips.

“Let me eat you out”

You shake your head with a smug smile. He whines.

“Come on baby, let me just- let me get you ready”

“No, I just want to feel you eds.” you say bravely.

The total and selfish truth is he wanted to eat you out since he picked you up and saw you in those overalls. Thighs on display, thighs he wanted spread over his shoulders as he buried himself into you, kissing and licking the places you needed him the most as his thumbs ran soothingly over the skin. fuck

“Fine,” he says  “Fuck fine!” he presses a kiss to your cheek.

He hovers over you, long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

Eddie looked you deep in the eyes as his hands reached between you both, he ran the tip of his cock between your folds, you both shivering at the feeling. Hands clutching harder at his hair. “Are you sure you still wanna do this sweetheart?” He searches your eyes for any doubts. You gaze up at him oh-so-lovingly that it makes his heart stop. These moments of you just looking up at him, reassuring him always makes him realize how much he would love to spend an eternity just bickering with you over stupid things, how lucky he is that he’ll scream it from the rooftops–he really would. You give him a gentle smile “of course” you whispered. No doubts. 

Slowly he starts pushing himself into you. Both your mouth parts at the sensation. Eddie stills as his jaw tightens. Eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the feeling of being inside you. “Shit,” he groans. You push your heels to his back as an attempt to make him move. “Eds please I need more,” you whine “I need you.” He leans down and kisses you. His hands grab ahold your thighs, “me too baby, fuck-.” ​​He could feel your soft, warm body underneath him, and he caressed your thighs, while he slowly began to thrust inside of you. “You feel so good babe.” He groaned in your ear as his hips began moving more swiftly. Your nails dug into his skin moans slipping past your lips. 

“Fuck eddie.” You gasp out throwing your head back; he’s quick to lean and suck on your neck, his tongue trailing your warm skin.

Your skin felt like it was on fire every time he touched you but this time it was too much, you felt in a daze. Everything around you disappeared except for eddie, everything eddie eddie eddie. You were so engulfed in just him; his guitar pick that’s gliding against your chest as he thrusts in and out of you, his touch on your thighs making you feel dizzy, the vein that’s prodding out his neck, the sounds he’s making that’s just making you wetter. 

Your hands grapple for a better grip on his broad shoulders. Like he can tell what you’re asking for instead as one of his hands travel from the grip he had on your thighs to clasp atop yours. He tugs it off and presses it against the sheets beside your head, calloused fingers interlacing with yours.

You clutch at his hand, squeezing your intertwined hands together as Eddie goes faster, your moans egging him on. His face drops lowers, warm breath fanning over your face as his other hand tugs your hips back on his cock strongly. He strokes in. Your skin burns warm; back arching up as the nails of your free hands sinks into his back.

“My girl.” He practically coos in your ear. The thought of being his girl makes you mewl and adds more to your burning arousal as you clench around him. He whines. “Baby- nggh” He gathers the strength to muster up a dry laugh “If I knew you had a possessive kink, I would’ve said that a while ago- fuck me.”  Your face heats up a crimson.

“Eddie.” you mewl.

“I know I know” he murmurs. His hand squeezes yours as he gives you a particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock finding the spot inside that makes you squirm. Making your toes curl and the blood in your veins run cold; a long moan drags out your lips and you bury it into his skin. 

“Y’feel so good eds,” you cry softly. Your hips are moving without thought, meeting his thrusts and he moans brokenly when your cunt flutters around him. “You’re doing so good for me baby.” You praise him with a whimper.

Hips stuttering a bit at your words, and the strength to hold himself up falters, more of his weight pressing against you and you welcome it, legs tightening their grip around his waist.

“My girl, my girl, my gorgeous girl- fuck” he breathes out hotly against your neck “eddie please” you whine out. You don’t even know why you are saying please. Probably for him to stop saying “my” anything because you will definitely not last long or perhaps the overwhelmingness of him buried deep inside you, it’s all just too much. 

You bring your hands to the side of his face, getting him out the juncture of your neck. He looks so beautiful like this; his hair disheveled and wild, cheeks rosy, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, button eyes staring back at you. The whole time his motions don’t slow the slightest, keeping the same pace as one of his hands messages your hips. “I love you.” 

Eddie’s cock twitches inside you, paired with a soft moan that Eddie buries into your neck. His thrusts speed up, chasing desperately as he whines, the noise pathetic and whimpery, and he grips your hand tighter. 

“Fuck, I love you too baby.” He says, sloppy kisses planted all over your neck, teeth scraping the now bruised spot, it sends electricity through your body, then he laughs “please tell me you’re close too.”

“I am,” you gasp, head nodding and eyes scrunching closed as the buzz of the heat expands inside you, thighs twitching and clenching around him tighter. “I am, baby, please.”

“C’mon sweetheart” he urges with a pant, voice strained and face wrecked. His other hand travels up, angling your face up so he can see your face and his nose nuzzles against yours. “I know you can do it. Y’gonna be my sweet girl and make a mess on my cock, yeah?”

His tone turns desperate, sticky with bliss “C’mon be sweet for me. Cum for me, baby, please.”

You tense up as his words hook into the coil of your stomach and tug, unraveling it and you with a soft cry. You arch and writhe as the ache in your cunt pulses so deliciously, pleasure flooding every nerve. Eddie fucks you through your own orgasm, as well as his own shortly after yours. 

He releases a desperate moan which dissolves into a kiss, soft lips scrapping yours. His hips move a bit slower, jerky motions, as he clenches your hand tightly. His forehead presses against your forehead “see, I told you, most. mind. blowing. sex. Better than all the sex dreams I had” voice raspy as he grins affectionately at you. 

You weekly push him off you. He lands next you with an oomph “why must you ruin every moment we have” you say lightheartedly. Eddie turns on his side as his arm anchors him up “can’t help it baby” his free hand glides underneath the covers and pulls you closer by the hips. “Of course you can’t.” 

The room now smelling of sex and filled with comfortable silence as you both lay next to each other in awe. Eddie - of course - breaks the silence “so,” a cheeky smile making its way onto his lips “you said you love me.” You purse your lips together trying to fight the smile as you meekly say “I did, yes.”

He smirks “I’m just surprised,” 

“Why?”

“Well, I for sure thought I was going to say it first, like- do you know the many times I almost blurted it out and said it?”

You shake your head giggling

“No baby, I'm so serious, it was really bad, there was that one time you had the flu and you coughed all over my jacket and you kept on apologizing but all I was thinking is how I can form the words “I love you”.”

The lovely response you were about to give to him was cut short as you were brought back to that memory and you gasp “wait- eddie, you jackass! You made me feel bad by giving me that ugly ass look the whole time and you said “ew.” ”

“Okay well you coughed up a loogie on me sweetheart, so sorry for reacting humanly”

You roll your eyes “when do you ever react humanly” 

“Well,” he kisses your interlocked hands “mostly with you, but I beg of you to not tell that little shit Henderson, he’ll be teasing me for weeks.”  

You smirk mischievously at him “and what if I did?” His gaze turns a familiar cold “now,” the hold he has on your hips tightens. “You wouldn’t do that,” He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he hovers over you. Slowly he makes his way under the covers, kissing the inside of your thighs, bringing you and the sheets down. You whimper as Eddie’s nose grazes your already sensitive clit. He removes the covers from his head “would you baby?” Not being able to get a proper response out, “that’s what I thought.” He’s already making his way under the covers where he drags his tongue through your folds.

You still told dustin afterwards, shortly after though, you were “punished” with your fingers tugging Eddie's hair as he was buried in your thighs.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #smut #fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[thefloorisbalaclava]

a sticky situation - john ‘soap’ mactavish x f!reader

pairing: john ‘soap’ mactavish x f!reader words: 886 warnings: SMUT [thigh riding, dry-humping, frottage, johnny makes a mess]

a/n: i am putting all the blame on @jawabear​ lololol. jk...once again, this was inspired by some audio i listened to. the guy had a scottish accent and i was sold! enjoy.

[masterlist]

Today was hard. It was stressful beyond belief, and you only wanted to get home to your Johnny.

As you stepped through the door, you found your boyfriend slouched on the sofa, eyes closed.

“Hey, babe,” he said quietly.

“Hey. Bad day?” you asked, kicking your shoes off by the door and walking over to him. You plopped down beside him, and he turned his head to look at you.

“Bad doesn’t begin to describe it,” he sighed, “But you’re here now, so at least I’ll have a good night.”

You sigh and touch his face gently. “You know what got me through the day? Thinking about coming home to you.”

“Mm, come here,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss. It started as a simple kiss, but soon you were straddling his thigh, and his hands were on your hips.

“Is this what you need, lass?” he asked, voice low. You nodded and bit your lip. “Take what you need.”

“Johnny,” you whined, pulling your skirt up your thighs until it was up around your waist. He looked at your panties and smiled.

“You know I love those on you,” he said.

“I know.” You started moving along his muscular thigh, arms around his neck to keep yourself balanced. Your knee was pressed against his crotch just right, and you could feel him getting hard.

“Good girl. Just like that.”

You moved faster, leaning back and holding onto his knees for support. He glanced at your panties again, his fingers hovering just above the blue lace.

“Feel good, does it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“That’s the point,” he said. Suddenly, he grabbed your hips and moved you, so you were straddling him completely, and your pussy was pressed against the bulge in his jeans. You gasped as he purposely pushed his hips up, grinding himself against you.

“Feels good,” you told him.

“Yeah, it does. Keep doin’ that,” he urged, pulling you against his clothed dick.

“You mean like this?” You swirled your hips on him, and his fingers dug into your thighs. He nodded rapidly.

You both moved in tandem, essentially dry-humping each other—pushing and pulling in ways that brought you both pleasure.

“I…uh…” he chuckled sheepishly, “…think I might cum in my pants if we don’t stop.”

“Hmm…” you smiled deviously and rode him faster, your clit rubbing against the seam of his jeans deliciously.

“Not before you, though.” He gritted his teeth and began moving you at the speed he wanted. He looked into your eyes as he rubbed your pussy through your panties.

“Oh God,” you panted.

“It’s just Johnny, baby,” he teased. You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but the only thing that left your mouth was a whimper.

“Mmm…gonna cum,” you cried. He kept rubbing your pussy. It was perfect. It was overwhelming. You wanted him to stop. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, “Soaked through that lace, huh?”

“Your fault,” you breathed. “Taste me,” you told him, and he brought his fingers to his mouth. As he did, you began grinding against him hard.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes.

“Good?” you asked, and he nodded. “Keep going.”

He sucked and licked his fingers noisily, and you kept riding him through his jeans. His moans grew louder, and he began to move with you again.

“You like it when I ride you, don’t you?” you asked.

“Fuck yes,” he sighed. You took the fingers he was sucking on and put them in your mouth. “Ah…shit,” he moaned.

You pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “I love sucking on you. Any part of you.”

“Babe…” he grunted, but you ignored him and kept dry humping. The veins in his arms and neck bulged as he tried to keep his restraint.

You moved faster, and he breathed harder, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back. His mouth dropped open silently at first, then a long, loud, drawn-out moan followed.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he grunted, holding your hips still.

“You okay?” you asked.

“I…I just came in my fuckin’ pants,” he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re fuckin’ magic, I swear.”

You giggled as he rested his head against your chest and wrapped his arms around you.

“That felt amazin’, but the mess in my jeans don’t,” he said, and you both laughed.

“I think it’s pretty hot,” you admitted.

“You have some interesting kinks, lass,” he teased. He sighed and then made a face. “I need a shower.”

You giggled and then stood up. “Come on.” You helped him to his feet, trying your hardest not to laugh at the awkward way he walked.

In the bathroom, he undressed, relieved to get the mess off of him. “From now on, it’s going inside you where it belongs.”

“You should be careful with what you say, Mr. MacTavish,” you purred.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked as you stepped into the shower.

You poked your head out. “Because they just may turn me on.”

“And that’s bad because?” He stepped into the shower.

“It’s not bad, but it could make me do things to you,” you said, looking him up and down.

“Oh, lass, you should show me what you mean.”

#john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare II #call of duty fic #cod mw2