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sserpente · 2 months

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Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #bg3 #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 imagine #neil newbon

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

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Chapter 20 - Backstreet's Back - All Right!

Why this sat in the drafts for so long, I do not know so I apologize to everyone! I've been super busy with college and haven't had time to write much...but here we are

Today was an ABSOLUTE fever dream and we all need a little somethin somethin. So I present to you - the backstreet boys (formula 1 edition)

RACES SKIPPED ARE CANADA AND SPAIN (side note - Arthur hasn't been able to be at a race since Monaco)

Haven't been able to say this in a while but I hope you enjoy! Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!! Love you all :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You had gotten to the paddock super early once again. But that was only because Lando and Oscar has asked you to hang out, and you’d never skip out on some good times with your papaya friends. Andrea loved you and often let you sit in his office if you were bored. Actually, all of the team principals seemed to do that.

Even Toto, which was weird considering you stole on of his driver’s car with his other driver.

Like always, you found yourself killing some time by playing Subway Surfers. You were about to get a new high score when two shadows covered your screen, making your character get arrested.

“Hey, you made me lose my score!”

You were about to tear them a new one, but your face had a shocked look once you finally pointed your head up.

“What the f-!”

“Has anyone seen the kid?” was a question that Max did not imagine that he’d hear first thing in the morning when he arrived on Sunday.

His eyes glanced to the corner that you were almost always in, listening to music. But, the corner was void of any rookie teammate. He looked toward Christian, who asked the initial question.

“Have you checked her driver’s room?”

The Brit sighed, “We checked her room, your room, hospitality, and even the Ferrari garage, Williams garage, and McLaren garage. No one has seen her, yet the log says that she’s already here because she tapped in at the entrance.”

Well, Max was stumped. And he knew why Christian was wanting to see you. They were finally in the Red Bull Ring, the home race for the entire team. It was a big deal, and Christian didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. There was a lot on their shoulders. Charles had pole, but Max was right behind him. Charles was always strong in the Red Bull Ring, almost winning in 2019 and then winning in 2022. The Ferraris had done well the last two races, and you two needed to hold them off. Thankfully, you were right behind Max in P3, but Carlos was behind you in P4. A Ferrari sandwich if you will.

Everyone was kind of counting on the both of you for a Red Bull 1-2.

“Have you seen Vito or Mitch?”

“We’re right here.”

The Dutchman turned around to see your race engineer and manager, but you were nowhere to be found. He opened his mouth to say something but Vito held out a hand.

“Yes, we’ve already tried to call her and Arthur. Both phones went to voicemail.”

“Oh god.” Max shivered. If you weren’t picking up, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. Well, he didn’t want to imagine what you were up to. Just as he was about to suggest looking in the garages again, Lando popped his head in.

“Have any of you seen Bug? She was supposed to meet up with me and Oscar earlier and she never showed up!” the curly-haired Brit whined.

Now, that had Max even more worried. You never skipped hanging out with your favorite Brit (after Christian) or Aussie. Before he was about to start getting a search party together, Mitch suddenly made a weird face.

“Do any of you hear that?”

The five went silent to try to hear whatever Mitch had heard.

Lando’s face scrunched. “Sounds like the Backstreet Boys?”

The group quickly walked over to the opening and didn’t know whether to be relived or just upright confused.

Because there you were, holding a giant boombox (God only knows where you got that) with sunglasses on, with Arthur to your right and one Ollie Bearman to your left. The soundtrack was indeed Backstreet Boys, namely the 1997 hit song “Everybody.”

As Max learned at Vegas, you definitely knew how to make an entrance. By now, most of the drivers had walked out of their garages to see the commotion.

And much to Max’s surprise, Nico Rosberg, Mark Webber, and Jensen Button walked up to the three of you, giant smiles on their faces. The song had ended a bit ago, and you handed the now silent boombox back to the German. The Australian of the group gave both Ollie and Arthur pretty big hugs.

“Well, Oscar lost his grid dad,” Lando said, earning a hit from said Aussie.

“Hey! He was never my grid dad in the first place.”

The now group of six made their way to the giant group of drivers, including but not limited to: Max, Lando, Charles, Carlos, Logan, Lewis, George, and Oscar (in no particular order). Arthur’s hand was behind your back as you enthusiastically talked to the very tall British brunet dressed in Ferrari red.

“I cannot believe that you come here, apparently to see me, and say that you need to be in the Ferrari garage! Arthur’s even going to be in the Red Bull one!” they heard you whine as the group got closer.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s only because he’s your boy-oof. You did NOT have to hit me.” He glared down at you as he rubbed his side.

“Yes I did.” Your arms crossed as you finally stopped in front of the giant group, who were all staring at you. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Lando mirrored your stance, even popping his hip out. “What’s up?” he jokingly mocking. “We were supposed to go to breakfast?” He pointed between him and Oscar.

A look of realization glossed over your face as you looked at the papaya drivers.

“Oooohhhh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, their fault?” You pointed at Ollie and Arthur, who both looked betrayed.

“Our fault?” Ollie squawked. “You were the one who dragged us to breakfast!”

“You had breakfast?”

“Yes Lando, I had breakfast.”

The younger Monegasque silenced you. “The big boys are talking. And then you dragged us to find Nico because you thought he had a boombox.”

“The big boys? Seriously Thur? I can take you any day.” You glared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, getting in your face to really show the height difference.

That’s it.

You suddenly jumped on him, bring him to the floor. The Max and Charles jumped into action, trying to get you separated. Ollie just watched with a giant grin on his face, laughing at the two of you.

“Ollie, kindly shut up?”

“Yes mom.”

The two of you were separated quickly, because you really didn’t have much malice toward your boyfriend.

“I totally won.”

“Kid, you lost horribly.”

“Max, has anyone ever told you that you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind?”

Charles, Lewis, Lando, Oscar, Logan, and George all nodded in agreement while Max stared at them with wide eyes.

“You all agree?!”

“Can I have my drivers back please?!” Christian suddenly yelled, making everyone look at him.

“Please take her. She’s rabid.” Arthur pushed you forward, making you take a swing at him (that he was ready for and dodged rather easily).

You stuck your tongue out at him, before giving Ollie a hug and gently guiding him to Charles.

Your finger pointed at the red-clad driver. “Take care of my son please, even if you are the enemy. He likes his sandwiches without the crust and needs a nap with his blanket in 5 hours.”

“Gosse?”

“Aw you brought my blanket?”

Ollie’s face flushed red as he realized everyone’s eyes were on him. Charles just looked worried as though someone just handed him an actual child and told him “good luck.”

You turned to follow your team principal, who was muttering something about you giving him even more gray hairs every weekend. “By Ollie! Have fun!”

The parade went by smoothly. You laughed a lot when Nico brought the boombox to the interviews. He had a lot of questions for you and Max, since it was the team race today, which made your anxiety skyrocket just a bit.

You and Arthur were able to have just a few minutes of alone time back in your driver’s room.

Because this was a surprise race, Arthur didn’t have to work or be with his brother. So, he was all yours for the entirety of Sunday. However, your excitement didn’t last long as he told you that he had to go back to Switzerland for more testing right after.

You sighed as you pressed your head against his chest, his arms around you. “If I had known that you’d be gone so much, I wouldn’t have called Seb and just have kept you as my WAG.”

Arthur sadly smiled down at you. “I know chéri, but I like testing. It gives me a purpose.”

Another sigh escaped your lips as you finally met his gaze. He cooed as he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“What is wrong mon fille jolie?”

You let a few tears escape, but they didn’t get very far as Arthur wiped them off as quickly as they fell.

“I just miss you and I miss home,” you confessed, hiding your face in his neck as you stepped closer. Arthur gently brought you over to the couch and readjusted you so that you were just lying on his front.

His hands gently ran through your hair. He knew you needed to be in the car soon, but he wouldn’t let you go without trying to console you.

You continued, “And I know that we just had summer break not too long ago, but it wasn’t enough.”

Arthur just listened, know you needed to spill to feel better.

“Everyone is counting on me to bring in a 1-2 since it’s the home race. But the last two races weren’t the best. I barely got any points.” You muttered the last part, “I’m never going to win a race by now.”

“Hey, none of that.” Arthur lifted your face so that you could look in his eyes. His were filled with determination. “Do you know how amazing you are? You podiumed at your first race and are fourth in the championship. As a rookie! You are incredible. Parfois j’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.” (translation: Sometimes I wish you saw yourself as I see you.)

You huffed. “I still can’t understand you, but I’m hoping that was a compliment.”

“It was.”

He moved his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. At the contact, a sigh expelled from your nose.

It felt so good to be so loved.

If someone was to write a poem, about how Arthur looked at you and how you looked at Arthur, their pens would be void of ink and the stars would be shadowed by their words.

The two of you were so lost in each other that a knock at the door scared you both and ended up with you on the floor.

Mitch poked her head in before shaking it slightly.

“I don’t even want to know what you were up to, but Y/n needs to get in the car.”

You quickly stood, with Arthur’s help, and grabbed your helmet, making your way back into the garage. Like clockwork, the Monegasque took your headpiece and gently made sure that it was safely secure. And, with a kiss on the “forehead,” he sent you off. He could tell that you didn’t really want to get in the car. Which was understandable. It wasn’t very often that Arthur saw you not want to drive. But he knew that you were going to be amazing today.

Starting Grid:

Charles Leclerc

Max Verstappen

Y/n L/n

Carlos Sainz

Oscar Piastri

Pierre Gasly

Daniel Ricciardo

Lewis Hamilton

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Lando Norris

Logan Sargeant

Valtteri Bottas

Fernando Alonso

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Nico Hulkenberg

You rolled your tires as you waited for the lights to go out. They were tense, but that helped you be ready to press the accelerator. If you weren’t tense, you knew there’d be something wrong. If you felt high-strung outside of the car, inside was 10 times worse.

All the pressure, all the doubts, all the hopes and dreams – were on your shoulders.

And you weren’t going to let them down.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Austrian Grand Prix! Charles Leclerc has a strong start in the initial few seconds, but Max Verstappen seems to be on a mission to turn this into a win. Verstappen gets down the inside and pushes Leclerc a bit wide to gain a position on the pole sitter. We both know that he will probably start to bolt in just a few corners.

“His rookie teammate Y/n L/n seems to also have the upper hand against the other Ferrari of Carlos Sainz as she seems to do what she does best – go around the outside on that initial turn 1 and somehow make it out in front.

“Now the track is a bit rainy, and we saw what happened the last time that happened, so we’ll keep an eye on our Red Bull number 2.”

You felt water droplets fall into your visor as you were picking up speed on the Ferrari in front of you. You knew that this “dirty air” would be much worse than regular, since it was contaminated with water as well.

You pressed your radio button when it seemed almost impossible to catch up to the red car. The rain had also stopped so your intermediates were getting dangerous to drive with.

“Mitch what is the plan because I cannot catch up to Leclerc in these conditions.”

“Do you think you can go the rest of the way in mediums?”

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t go the rest of the way on softs, as they would degrade too quickly. And hards took forever to warm up.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Then box ahead of Max. You’ll come out right behind him. So, he’ll give you a tow and then when he boxes, you’ll do the same. Max has priority.”

“Copy.”

You quickly pitted the next lap. The Red Bull team seemed to be on fire as you were in and out in a few seconds. You didn’t know, but they somehow set the record for a new pit stop – 1.789 seconds.

The crowd got excited as you suddenly appeared behind Max and in front of the number sixteen car.

With Max in front of you, the tow was very helpful as you started to build bigger gap. You guessed that Ferrari must have messed up Charles’s pit stop as Lando’s papaya car was now behind you, instead of Charles.

You felt bad, but that’s on his team.

However, Lando was on much fresher tyres that you were, and he was gaining in the last ten laps of the race. You really tried to not let him overtake, but he did…with five laps to go.

Mitch suddenly came over the radio. “Don’t push it like last time. We don’t need another Suzuka. Third place will be just fine.”

But you weren’t having any of that. You never responded and just kept at the pace you were going, trying to get the maximum out of the car.

You hadn’t noticed, but everyone else in the garages could see that you were surprisingly gaining on Lando. Ollie watched as you were making qualifying times per lap. The crew was holding on to each other, cheering you on. With each tenth gained, the noise grew louder.

You saw the last lap flag, and you knew you had to keep your elbows out.

“And we are coming up on the last lap and L/n has somehow made it back into Norris’s DRS. She tried to get around the outside on the first turn, but is not successful. Yet, she’s keeping herself well in the DRS and doesn’t make try to make a move on the straights.

“Here comes the last real corner of the circuit and only a small straight for an overtake.

“SHE’S GOING FOR IT!

“IT’S A PHOTO FINISH…DO WE HAVE RESULTS?”

You slowed down your car as you drove around for the cool down lap. Your finger was jamming the radio button.

“Do we have it!?”

Arthur was biting his fingernails as everyone in the garage was waiting for the results. The mechanics were happy with another P1 finish from Max, but they were on baited breath to see if you had almost done the impossible and finished in a 1-2 sequence. A steward walked over to the pit wall and gave Christian the paper with the results.

A giant smile crossed his face as he was the one to give you the news.

“Congrats kid. It’s a 1-2 finish.”

Race Results

Max Verstappen – 25 points

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Lando Norris – 15 points

Charles Leclerc – 12 points

Carlos Sainz – 11 points

Pierre Gasly + fastest lap – 9 points

Oscar Piastri – 6 points

Lewis Hamilton – 4 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points

Alex Albon – 1 point

Logan Sargeant

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Daniel Ricciardo

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 244 points

Charles Leclerc – 201 points

Y/n L/n – 124 points

Lando Norris – 115 points

Carlos Sainz – 91 points

Lewis Hamilton – 70 points

Oscar Piastri – 68 points

Alex Albon – 39 points

George Russell – 36 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points

Logan Sargeant – 29 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 383 points

Ferrari – 292 points

McLaren – 194 points

Mercedes – 106 points

Aston Martin – 50 points

Williams – 41 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

“OH YEAH BABY. LET’S GO!” you yelled over your radio. The crew in the garage stood up from their seats and began to hug each other.

“Oh man, that was, wow! Can’t believe that. Great job everyone. Is this what winning feels like?” you asked as you took the cooldown lap, yet there was no answer. Everyone was too busy watching that final overtake and celebrating about it.

Arthur just watched your car take a lap on the screen. He softly whispered, “I knew you could do it.” The love in his eyes could have poured out if love was a physical thing.

Mitch came over the radio as you were beginning to pull in. “And congrats kid. You have surpassed Lewis Hamilton’s rookie point record.”

“LET’S GO! THAT'S THE SHIT!”

“You really need to stop hanging out with Max all the time. He’s teaching you bad words.”

You smirked under your helmet. “I’m a girl whose friends are dominantly male. Mitch you even curse over the radio.”

Max almost didn’t want to look at whatever car was in the second place spot. He knew you’d be devastated if you weren’t there. Last he knew, Lando was behind him with you on his tail. It was your helmet that caught his attention. His body turned to see you standing on your car in the P2 spot.

His heart dropped, but in a good way. He watched you jump off and jump into the arms of the crew. Head pats were definitely deserved as you tried to touch as much of the team as possible. He laughed when you purposefully hung off the banner, just to get closer to the crew who were a bit further back.

He watched you and Mitch hold out your arms (kind of like Lando and Carlos at the Singapore Grand Prix), mirror each other, and then hug it out. He swears he saw the older lady wipe away a few tears.

Next was Christian, who gave you a big hug as Max finally made his way to the wall of crew. It was his turn for hugs, high-fives, and helmet pats.

You had just gotten to Arthur, who held onto you a bit longer than everyone else.

Just for the two of you, he whispered, “If you didn’t have you helmet on, I’d kiss you right here in front of all these people.”

Your cheeks were bright red under the helmet.

Ollie, who had been able to escape from the prancing horse, had also come to congratulate you. His hug was a tag shorter than Arthur’s, but you knew he did it to make your previous hug not look as suspicious.

You had been on the podium time and time before, but this felt different. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline, the sun, or the happiness that ran through you veins that made the trophy a bit lighter or the bubbly a bit sweeter: maybe it was all three.

You were still hungry for a win, starving, but this was just the snack to tide you over.

Down below, Arthur and Ollie had somehow gotten a hand on the boombox once again. You could barely hear it on the podium, but you had a guess. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt, making everyone confused. You watched as your two boys had a knowing smirk on their faces. The same smirk slowly crept on your face as well.

You turned to Max and Lando, who looked equally confused. You held your trophy to your lips, as though it were a microphone. You pointed at the two men, and lip-synced the words.

“BACKSTREET’S BACK - ALL RIGHT!”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing 1-2 in the house! The Red Bull Ring was shining as our drivers carried home two new trophies! Congrats to y/n.89 for her first record as she surpasses Lewis Hamilton's rookie points with 124 points total!

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappen, lewishamilton, and 4,203,893 others

y/n.nation THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

y/n_on_top that fight for the win will go in the history books mark my words

landonorris please tell your drivers to slow down so the rest of us can have a chance

charles_leclerc I second this y/n.89 idk, you all just sound like misogynists here... maxverstappen1 what she said

lewishamilton I knew someone would have to beat it. congrats kid

y/n.89 thank you Lew! (someone should take notes ahem landonorris) landonorris sure bug, sure

redbullfan 1-2! 1-2! 1-2!

y/n.lover she is legit currently in p3 for the constructor's championship...what do they feed her?

y/n.89 the tears of my enemies (Charles cries a lot) charles_leclerc HEY redbullracing lots of energy drinks and protein!

arthurxy/n Arthur back in the rb garage - too bad ollie couldn't join them

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 my boys are BACK

liked by y/n.nation, boxbox_express, change_ur_f-car, and 85,395 others

y/n&co God I've seen what you've done for others

rookiefan I kinda feel bad for her boyfriend...but at the same time Arthur is more than happy to show her off (her bf needs to take notes!!)

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n.89 did you have a nice nap? olliebearman yes until charles_leclerc forgot my blanket y/n.89 when I find you charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc Charles you better run charles_leclerc HE'S 18?? WHY DOES HE STILL NEED A BLANKET AND NAP y/n.89 you're 26???? why do you still need to call my teammate goodnight? lestappenlove and I OOP

prema_y/n anywayyyyy the second pic is hilarious

Arthur.nation thur is glowing, wonder if he has a gf??

arthurgirly4life I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

boxbox_express the trio no one knew we needed, but the trio that we deserve

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc a driver, a reserve driver, and an endurance driver walk into a bar...

liked by thurthur, ferrari_fanfest, porsche, and 102,284 others

arthur4porsche this makes no sense but it's hysterical??

y/n.89 ollie actually smacked his head on the bar

olliebearman YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL - DAD, MOM IS MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN arthur_leclerc it was funny? olliebearman grandpa? charles_leclerc yes? olliebearman not you, you forgot my blanket. the better one maxverstappen1 take that Charles

arthur&crew if max and Charles are grandpa...does that make Christian great-grandpa??

christianhorner sadly yes y/n.89 SADLY?? YOU MADE HIM CRYYYY charles_leclerc w o w , could never at Ferrari y/n.89 Charlie, you cried yesterday

redbullracing maybe the driver should become our photographer?

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman why is it that when we're together, we're always eating??

liked by ferrari, y/n.89, logansargeant, and 83,294 others

olliebear WHAT ARE THESE PICTURES I'M DYING

arthur_leclerc blocked and reported for that last picture

olliebearman why? trying to look good for someone?? arthur_leclerc say goodbye to the blanket olliebearman too late, your brother lost it :( arthur.nation HELLO??

y/n.89 I look sexy

olliebearman your boyfriend sure thinks so :D y/n.89 what Arthur said, blocked and reported

prematrio what are these comments??

y/n&co shhhhh just let them

oscarpiastri guess the invites got lost in the mail??

landonorris same here... y/n.89 you weren't in prema? kimi.antonelli thanks for the food mom! olliebearman brother? maxverstappen1 here we go again

change_ur_f-car what a time to be alive

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months

Text

Anyway, I just saw this video of a guy walking in on his roommate taking a bath with a raccoon, and I just had this image in my head.

Steve went over to the Munsons' new house to hang out with Eddie. He knocked at first, but no one answered. He knew Eddie was home. He tried the door, and it was unlocked.

"Eddie?"

"In here!" Eddie hollered.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he went into the bathroom, but it wasn't Eddie taking a bath with a raccoon.

"What?"

"Oh, yeah, I rescued a raccoon! Poor little guy got in the flour. Kids, am I right?" Eddie scoffed.

"Okay, but I don't think it was necessary to get into the bath with him," Steve said.

He was relieved to see that Eddie was wearing swim trunks.

"I know it wasn't necessary," Eddie said. "I think he wants you to say hi. Don't worry. I took him to the vet. Clean Bill of Health, and he's had all his shots. Let him sniff your hand."

"Okay. . ."

Steve reached over and let him sniff his hand. He slowly started to pet him, and he smiled when the raccoon leaned into his hand.

"Aww, I think he wants you to be his mommy," Eddie said.

"I'm a man," Steve said.

"A man can be a mom if he wants to. Get with the times! It's 1986, man! Besides, they're all just made-up words. You can call things whatever you want to. For instance, I call spoons forks and forks spoons now. Does it piss Wayne off a little when I ask him for them? Yes. Does he love me a little less for it? Probably. I'm still his nephew, though," Eddie said.

"Jesus."

"No, Eddie," he grinned.

"How can someone be this adorable and this annoying at the same time?" Steve asked.

"If I didn't know any better, I think you wanted to be more than just my boyfriend," Eddie said.

"I'm your boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, you're my friend, and you're a boy. You're my boyfriend," Eddie said.

"Have you just been calling me that in your head?" Steve asked.

"It sounded good to me," Eddie said.

"Do you call your other guy friends your boyfriend?" He asked.

"No, that would be weird," Eddie scoffed.

"But not weird with me?" Steve asked.

"Nope!"

Steve giggled and knelt by the tub. He grabbed the back of Eddie's neck and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. He pulled back and watched Eddie's eyes light up in realization, his cheeks pink.

"Oh, yeah. That makes more sense," Eddie said, and he kissed Steve. "You know, this tub is big enough for the both of us."

Steve was now in the bathtub, stripped down to his boxers as he and Eddie bathed a raccoon.

"By the way, I'm not telling Robin that this is how we got together," Steve said.

"Yes, you are. You're going to tell her every single detail, and you're going to love every moment of it," Eddie cackled. "What shall we name our son, mother?"

"Hmm," Steve said thoughtfully. "Dustin!"

"It shall piss off Dustin the First mightily so! Yes!"

"And let's get him a little hat!"

"Let's!"

And when he told Robin the story of Eddie and the raccoon, she laughed so hard she fell off the couch. And she finally did meet raccoon Dustin, she became smitten. . . Mostly to use him whenever human Dustin pissed her off. She would always declare that this was her favorite Dustin.

And so, they lived strangely ever after. . .

THE EN . . . Fuck, Raccoon Dustin ran off with the d. Him and his little bandit hands. 😑

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #idiot4idiot #stranger things fanfiction #a ficlet #rueleigh writes #its a crack fic #i love crack fics

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frogchiro · 1 year

Note

Hello! I just wanted to say I've been enjoying your writing immensely, particularly the COD omegaverse content really got to me :D You and 🐙-anon made my daydreams go wild, and I felt like sharing! English is also not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

141 with an omega teammate who is the youngest of the group. They know about you, but you have been using suppressors and supplements forever, so it's never been an issue. They are so strong, even some instinctual habits get suppressed. During one mission, the suppressors have been slowly wearing off. The team became aware of it, but you assure them that it won't be a problem (and it never did). Once the mission is complete, they should be able to get it sorted out. The mission is over, and everyone has to remain on base for after-mission activities. You became more agitated in a "nothing feels right" way and also not sleeping much. Concerned about his subordinate, Price confronts you about your state. You drag him back to your room, showing him the nest you've made. You ask him what's wrong with it. You've been at it for days, but whatever you do, it feels wrong. You are close to crying from frustration. Stepping into your room, Price takes a pillow and quickly realizes the problem. There's no scent besides that of the omega. He rubs the pillow against his scent glands, hands it back to you, and tells you to wait. He gathers some clothes from his room and then proceeds to ask Gaz for some shirts, who was hanging out with Soap. Soap asks what it's for, and Price tells them about the situation. Gaz hands him some t-shirts while Soap excitedly grabs his entire bedding from his room. On the last stop, Price takes one of Ghost's hoodies before all three make their way back to you. You stare at them and get flustered once you realize what they are offering. You never had the scent of an alpha (and potential mate) in your nest before, let alone multiple. Gaz steps into your room and scents more pillows and blankets while Price and Soap pile the items on a chair for you to arrange them. Price tells you to "get some rest", avoiding making a big deal and embarrassing you further. Johnny hugs you and teases you with "Sweet dreams". Gaz also wishes a good night's rest with a gentle smile before everyone returns to what they were doing before.

Bonus: It's already past midnight once Ghost is ready for his sleep. On his way to his room, he passes by yours. Not used to the heavy blend of so many alphas coming from their room, he takes a peek inside and sees the entire day's event. Their omega sleeping in Gaz's shirt, Johnny's blanket covering your lower half, sleeping on the pillow Price scented. But it's the hoodie you are holding that gets his attention. The unfamiliar happy purring from his teammate puts him at ease, making him unconsciously chirp with happiness. He's surprised by the chirping he gest in reply. You are finally content, making all those noises even while sleeping. Ghost makes his exit, his heart aching.

Anon you don't understand how happy this made me feel ;;

I don't know if it's Price, Foap and Gaz taking such good care of you (while totally ignoring any feeling for the time being lol) or Ghost and sudden strange feeling taking over when he sees you all cuddled up and scented with his packs scents and simultaneously cuddled into his black hoodie.

It would mean so much to Si :( He's still getting used to other people feeling comfortable and safe with him, he's The Ghost after all, a heartless killing machine with no remorse and yet here he is, chirping at the sight of his omega all nice and warm and cuddled up with his clothing <3

And when he gets a sleepy chirp back?? Even while you're asleep you're still responding to your alphas with a delighted little noise and that's all he needs to know.

His heart may ache with an unfamiliar pain but soon enough you would be cuddling with the whole 141 pack in your joined nest, safe and happy <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #omegaverse

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bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months

Text

Am I Acting Weird?

Walking home, I just can't shake the feeling that something is off, but I can't figure out what! I asked Coach about it before leaving practice, but he just laughed. He said I was weird not to appreciate the effort I've put into football lately.

He's right. I've been busting my ass, but that's exactly what I'm talking about!

I've never given a damn about improving my rank or even showing up to conditioning! I just wanted to hang out with my buds and mess around with the cheerleaders.

But now, it's like none of that matters! I've skipped the last three parties to bulk up at the gym! I haven't been able to drink anything other than protein shakes, and my meals are always loaded with meat. It's like I can't control myself anymore! Why can't I just take a night off and drink beers with the rest of the boys?

I let out a long groan of frustration and trudge upstairs. My younger sibling Max laying on the couch while the TV blares his favorite show.

Max is the weird one! He's like 18, and all he does is play videogames and sit around all day.

I quickly strip off my sweaty football uniform and toss it into the corner of my bedroom. My muscles are already tired and aching from yesterday's practice, so I can't imagine how sore I'll be feeling when I wake up for tomorrow's early morning workout; something I only recently started doing everyday.

Like every other night, I pull my usual at-home clothes on; a stiff white shirt, black apron, and bowtie. This outfit might seem weird, but it feels nice, especially when I tie everything up extra tight. Max showed me how. Sure, it's not comfortable at all, and I look like a waiter more than anything, but that doesn't bother me.

My little brother is annoying as hell, but he's usually right. Me and dad used to tease him all the time, but we've come around since then.

Now that I'm finally at home and suited up, I can feel my shoulders relax. Whatever was bothering me before can wait. I pull some shiny black shoes on, slip a pair of white gloves over my hands, and carefully step back downstairs. It's important that I make as little noise as possible when I'm home. I wouldn't want to disturb anybody.

"Hey, big bro," Max calls from the couch, "Your home."

"Yes, Max," I answer, taking my usual position next to the couch.

This is where I stand when I'm in the living room anymore. It's just where I feel most comfortable, and it's right next to a little cart of useful supplies. I grab a towel and sling it over my shoulder. It's always a good idea to have one on me when I'm at home. Never know when I'm going to need it.

"My shoes could use a polish while we chat," Max adds, flipping through the channels.

"You got it, Max."

See, the towel does come in handy. I quickly fetch a container of shoe polish on my little cart and kneel by his feet. I've been polishing Max's shoes for a few weeks now, so I've gotten pretty good at it. He doesn't really appreciate the art of it, but I guess it's just something that I'm into.

"How's football? You the best player yet?" Max asks nonchalantly from above.

"No, Max. I've gotten a lot bigger lately, but the quarterback is still a lot more muscular and skilled."

He rolls his eyes and adds, "Give it time I guess. You're going to keep at it until your a professional player like the ones on TV."

I stop buffing his sneaker for a second and glance up at him. His attention is now completely fixated on an NFL videogame.

"Max, that's just it," I admit, "Lately I've been working out and bulking up like I'm some pro-athlete, but I'm not. I don't think I even want to be! That life just seems so grueling."

Max pauses his game and looks down at me solemnly.

I avert my gaze and add, "It's just weird that lately I've put so much work into something I don't want."

"You think that's weird?" he dryly raises an eyebrow.

I just shake my head and turn my attention back to my brother's sneaker. It's going to need a lot more polish before it shines.

The door opens and our father arrives home.

"Hey, boy," he dismissively calls when he sees me on the floor. Then he notices my brother lounging on the couch.

"Max," he says with a bit more emphasis, dipping his head a little.

"Dad, I'm really hungry right now, so could you get a move on with dinner?" Max answers.

"Of course, Max."

Our father immediately drops his keys and briefcase and shuffles into the kitchen. I've always admired him. He played football in college too, so we've always bonded over sports.

But lately, he only seems interested in his work. I rarely see him because he always stays late and picks up night shifts at the office. It's done wonders for his career, so I guess that's good. He's been given a few raises recently for all the extra effort he's put in, but I can tell it's taking a bit of a toll on the guy.

"Big bro, just look at Dad," Max explains to me, "He doesn't complain about anything being weird, does he? He just keeps his mouth shut and goes to work. Be more like him."

I don't speak as I switch to shining his other sneaker. Max is probably right. If Dad can power through long hours in the office to bring home a decent salary, then I can surely shut up and dedicate myself to a career in football.

It doesn't take long for our father to return to the living room.

"The food is almost ready, but here are some drinks while you wait, Max," he says.

Our dad seems minorly annoyed by the starched clothing he has on, but that suit is his typical home outfit. It looks even more stiff and uncomfortable than my get up, but I guess he's willing to put up with it.

Max stands before I can finish at his feet and grabs a glass from our father.

"Whoops, here you can finish them," he says after a swig of wine, kicking the shoes off in my direction, "And then take care of the laundry in my room."

"Sure thing, Max," I answer, but he's already turned his attention to dad.

"Is your wallet in your briefcase?" he asks, "I'm taking a few friends out tonight."

"It is, Max, and the car keys are next to it. The car is low on gas. Should I take it to a station before you go out?"

"Yeah," Max adds between sips, "Take care of that while I eat."

"Of course, Max."

"Oh, and Dad."

"Yes, Max?"

"Start making double portions for big bro's meals. He needs to bulk up faster if he's going to usurp the current quarterback."

I pretend not to hear, and finish up my work with Max's shoes. Maybe my new focus on football hasn't been that strange after all. It's not really the life I thought I'd be pursuing, but it's kind of nice being bigger and more athletic than I used to be. It's not really weird if I think about it. Maybe I can even get a few more reps in after I finish Max's laundry.

I hope he has a good time out with his friends tonight. It's weird, but I don't really know what else I'd spend my time doing.

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #gay mind control #hypnotized #bow tie

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fluffylino · 5 months

Text

boypussy!hyunjin

-contains mature themes

the boy beneath you squirmed, as you teased him. pushing just the tip of your dick inside him. hyunjin was panting, breathing heavy. his face buried into the pillow at this point. back arched and exposing his most sensitive parts to you. You were worried he wouldn't be able to breath. His cunt clenching around you, trying to suck you in. However you had patience. Never had you imagined doing this.

It all started when...

"uh i need to tell you something" hyunjin had walked inside after finishing practice. his lips were white and his whole demeanor had changed. almost like he was filled with fear and shock.

he sat down next to you on the couch. you switched off whatever you were watching on the tv to give him your full attention.

"I-I...something h-happened i don't k-know but i don't have a d-dic-" he quickly corrected himself.

"male genetilia" he whispered. You had no clue what he was talking about. Nevertheless you stroked his back, letting him place his head on your lap.

The last thing you remembered saying to him was 'i wish u had a pussy for a few days, i could do the things you do to me for a change'

you gasped.

"Did i make this happen?!" you yelled, making hyunjin jump with a start. he looked confused.

"You'll be back to normal in a couple of days, don't worry darling"

a day had passed, and hyunjin seemed to be struggling. you decided to tease him. he sat quietly in his room, scrolling through his phone. you walked in, jumping on him. he giggled when you kissed his neck. slowly making your way up to his lips.

"you're so wet aren't you? i should fuck you till you make a mess of yourself." you mumbled in his ear and smiled when his breath hitched. you slipped your hand under his cute versace tee, to lightly rub his tits.

"stopppp"

his mouth dropped open when you pressed your thigh between his legs. he tried closing his legs.

"ahh but-"

"but what?" you questioned. hyunjin shyly looked at you.

"i have my strap on, baby don't worry. we'll go slow"

you kissed him, and he kissed back desperately. tongue messily moving around. in the mean time you had managed to get his pretty checkered pajama pants off.

"here" he whined, grinding against your thigh. his wetness soaking his underwear. moving the fabric to the side your carefully traced his folds. he looked cute, eyes wide, and oversized shirt hanging off his shoulder.

"you're dripping baby" you continued to tease him until he caught your hand. you pushed a finger in slowly. his breathing going slow. you added another. knuckle deep in him.

and thats how you ended up in this state.

"m' close, hah.." he cried out, thighs shaking and you pulled out for the 5th time in the past hour. the reaction you got was worth it. he groaned into the pillow, shoulders beginning to shake.

A clear indication that he had finally had it. You had finally broke down that wall of his.

"w-why ? i was so g-good" he muttered, voice cracking. tears flowed down his face, mixing with the sweat and drool on his chin.

you were just giving him back what he would do to you. you, of course took it better. it was quite a sight to see your boyfriend sobbing, begging You to rail Him.

"i know baby i know" you soothed him and he preened at the attention you gave him.

"i'll let you cum this time, hm?" you reassured, running your hand down his back.

You spread his puffy lips with your index and middle finger, biting your lip at how much slick was leaking out.

"such a pretty pussy. makes me wanna knock you up. fuck my babies into you. rail you till you're a mess"

he shook his head...or atleast tried to. hyunjin really was loving every moment of it. You slammed back in, now wasting no time.

hyunjin mewled, jerking forward with each thrust. Loud 'ah ah ahs' leaving him.

Chest to back. you could see his face. struggling to maintain eye contact with you. his eyelids fluttering and his tears distorting his view.

"ah n-no no stop too m-much too muchhh" he wriggled around as your began to play with his clit. eyes rolling back. tongue lawling out.

At one particular hard thrust, he went cross eyed, mouth in an 'o' shape. the sound he let out was beyond pornagraphic. the heat in your abdomen exploding. you could feel the warmth seeping all over your dick. He shivered, his eyes swollen and gaze spaced out.

"aw did my baby cum"

pulling him against your side, he sobbed into your neck. thighs pressed together. his cum staining the inside of his soft thighs.

"did so well for me" you praised, leaning over to grab a hairtie from the table beside.

"i-i did?"

"of course you did. made such pretty sounds for me" you tied his hair into a small ponytail. kissing away his tears. he melted into you.

"you're my pretty girl, aren't you?" you weren't expecting him to respond. you tucked a few strands behind his ear. god, was he such a beautiful sight. lips coated in spit.

"i'm your p-pretty girl"

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz drabbles #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #boypussy hyunjin #bang chan smut #lee know smut #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #fluffylino works

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axelsagewrites · 1 month

Note

I need more Jace x reader modern au

like maybe enemies to lovers or something and he’s cocky, and smuttyyyy

Jace Velaryon*Studying

Pairing: Modern!Jace x afab!reader

Word count: 2483

Warnings: enemies to lovers, bet, cocky jace, make out, fingering, f!recieving oral, praise, teasing, smut 18+

Masterlist here

The door to your dorm slammed behind you as you collapsed in a heap on your bed. Aly and Helena sat on Helena’s bed, snickering at your rant. “He is such an insecure, brain dead, stuck up, trust fund baby with a god complex and I bet his dick isn’t even that big- “

“Remember he is Hel’s nephew,” Aly cut you off.

You groaned as you flung your head even harder against the pillow. “Don’t worry. I know he sucks,” your roommate chuckled, “You’re lucky you only see him during the term. Family gatherings are like a dick measuring competition with all the guys,”

“I can only imagine,” you said, shuddering at the idea of dealing with more Jace, “I just don’t get what his problem is!”

“What did he do this time?”

“So, I think for this part of the project- “you said, pointing at the notes you’d laid out as you tried to ignore Jace’s attempts to annoy you.

He was sat, his chin resting on his hand, facing you, staring at you, “So why don’t we hang out?” he asked, brushing the hair out your face.

You huffed, slapping his hand away, “Because you never do any work,” you scoffed.

Jace grinned, sitting back in his chair, “What so all I gotta do is be a nerd like you and I can take you out?”

Work was clearly not going to get done so you dropped your pencil and turned to face him, “One, I’m not a nerd. Two, it’s not nerdy to not wanna flunk out. and three I don’t go on dates with pompous assholes,”

“You just don’t go on dates sweetheart,” Jace revealed in the way your face flushed and your eyes rolled, “Maybe if you did you might loosen up a little,”

“Please, you’re loose enough for the both of us. Now can we please work on this? I’m not having you bring down my average,”

Jace rolled his eyes but finally sat up to work. He actually began to read the notes you had when suddenly he stopped, “Lets make this interesting,” he smirked.

You face palmed at his words, “Let’s not,” you groaned.

“If I get an A on this we go on a date,” Jace said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

“What so I have to do all the work and also suffer?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

Jace rolled his eyes but there was a grin on his face, “Fine. If I get an A on this and the next essay due,”

Your eyes narrowed on him, something not adding up, “Isn’t your average like a C?”

“D actually,” he grinned, leaning back in his chair like it was something to be proud of, “But I can do anything if I put my mind to it,”

“Aw is that what your mommy told you? Yeah, no that’s what the trust funds for,” you mocked but Jace’s gaze was unwavering, “Ugh fine,” you finally agreed, dramatically rolling your eyes for effect, “What do I get when you lose?”

“If I lose,” Jace corrected with a grin, “and if somehow, I do lose then I will do whatever you ask of me. No matter how embarrassing. Scouts honour,” he said, placing his hand to his chest.

You eyed him up, wondering just how good it would be to force him to run through the Greek life street in a frilly pink bikini, “Fine. You’re on,”

Heleana and Aly got a kick out of the story and for the rest of the evening you brainstormed embarrassing ideas. However, over the next few days you got a bad feeling. Each time you met with Jace to do the project he actually did the work. One time you walked into the library just to return a book and you saw him sat there studying. There was even a girl trying to flirt with him the whole time sat on the table, but he just ignored her.

“What if he actually wins?” You asked your friends as the three of you walked into the dining hall.

Helana shrugged when she grabbed her tray, “He actually used to be pretty smart. Got mostly As in high school,” You and Aly both stopped in your tracks at this, “What?”

“You didn’t think to tell us this?” you asked, eyes wide but she just shrugged.

Aly however was looking off in the distance, “Is that Jace studying?” she asked, nodding to one of the loudest tables in the room.

Sure, enough he was sat at the end of his frat table that was all a mix of hungover, drunk, or high. All but Jace who sat at the end studying. “I am so fucked,”

After handing in your partner project that Friday you did your best to put this whole Jace mess out your mind. That worked great until Wednesday rolled around, and the email blast of results came out.

“Hey study buddy,” Jace said as he flung his arm over your shoulder in the hallway, “You seen this yet?” he asked, shoving the phone in your face.

“Is this your first A or something?” you scoffed.

Jace grinned, his arm staying put on your shoulder as he slipped his phone away, “Nope,” he said, popping the P. “Just excited for our date,” the words made you shudder, or maybe it was the way it seemed everyone was staring, “Do you like Italian food? I know a place- “

“You haven’t won yet you know,” you said, pulling away till you were stood in front of him, arms crossed, “You still need an A in the essay,”

“Pft easy peasey,” Jace scoffed, a smirk returning to his lips as he pushed the hair out your eyes, “Besides, I like a challenge,” he added, his eyes wandering down to your lips, “Start outfit planning sweetheart,” he said as he began to walk away.

“You’re not gonna win!” you called after him despite him already turning his back.

“Not with that attitude doll,”

“I never thought id see the day Jace became a nerd,” Heleana mused as you all sat in the dining hall.HA

the essay was due tomorrow and for the past two weeks Jace seemed less like himself. Aka he wasn’t parting every night, “He even skipped the football teams party last night,” Aly, the social butterfly of the three of you said.

“Why did the even have a party? They lost,” you said, rolling your eyes, “I didn’t realise he was gonna take this so seriously,” you muttered.

“Maybe he actually likes you,” Aly teased as her and Hel began making obnoxious kissy noises and love hearts at each other, “Yous would have such cute babies!”

“I hate you both,”

The day had come. The marks were out. you got an A and glowing notes from your professor however you also got a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. However, when class rolled around that day there was a new worry. Jace never showed up.

There was no reason for you to be worried. After all he wasn’t your problem. He was probably hungover or skipping to hook up with some girl or out doing something equally stupid. Still, you couldn’t help yourself.

It wasn’t exactly hard to find Jace’s dorm. All you had to do was follow the smell of axe body spray and ask one of his floormates who quickly pointed you in the right direction before wolf whistling. “Assholes,” you muttered under your breath as you knocked on the door and waited.

Jace opened, his eyes widening in shock, but he quickly tried to play it off, “Hey,” he said, leaning his arm against the door in that super obnoxious booktok way that was unreasonably attractive. It didn’t help he was in a half zipped up hoodie with his abs on full display or low hung grey sweatpants, “Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” he teased, smirking when he noticed your eyes had wandered.

“Shut up,” you snapped, rolling your eyes, “You never showed up to class today and I was just wondering you know,” you said, shrugging as you realised how potentially desperate you now looked.

Jace’s arm dropped from the doorway, his hands ending up in his pockets, “Oh yeah. Got a B so you know. Dumb class anyway,” he shrugged, eyes refusing to meet yours.

Your heart sank, “Well it was a really hard one. Apparently, she was really tough this time,”

“What did you get?”

“An A,” you said making Jace roll his eyes, “Only like a low A though. Like barely an A,”

“Cmon, you don’t need to do that,” Jace said, almost sounding annoyed, “You don’t need to dumb yourself down for me. Besides,” he said, leaning in a little with a grin, “Smart chicks are hot,”

You scoffed at that, especially when a smirk cracked his lips, “In your dreams,”

“Every night,” he grinned however it fell away soon after, “So what’s my punishment teacher’s pet? Streak through campus? Run around in a pink mini dress? Sing into a megaphone in the dining hall?”

You weren’t sure why you did. Hell, you didn’t even realise you were doing it. not till you’d grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Jace was equally shocked at first but soon his arm slipped around your back as he pulled you into the dorm only to shut the door behind you and press you against it, “Not what I’d call a punishment princess,” Jace said, his lips moving to kiss along your jaw, “but I’ll take it,”

“You are so infuriating,” you groaned despite your hand moving to the back of his head, tugging on his soft curls.

His lips smirked against the hollow of your neck, “Yeah but you like it,” he said, hands moving to your waist and creeping under your shirt to test the waters, “Now let me earn my A,” hands moving up to squeeze your tits when you didn’t stop him.

You couldn’t take it anymore as your hands grabbed his jaw again, pulling his lips to yours again, “Someone’s eager,” he murmured as your hands tugged the zip of his hoodie down.

“What? You want me to go home?” you asked between kisses as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders.

Jace’s hands quickly moved to your hips, grabbing them firmly as he began walking backwards to the bed, “You’re not going anywhere princess,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle his thigh.

Even through your jeans you could feel his hard on poking your thigh. You moved your hips, grinding down on it and making Jace moan into the kiss as his hands squeezed your ass. You gasped when he flipped you over, you’re back hitting the soft mattress as his fingers toyed with the button of your jeans, “Can I get rid of them?” he asked, his fingers ghosting your waist. All you could do was nod making his chuckle as he pulled them off. “Fuck even better than my dreams,” he teased, kissing your inner thigh as he tossed them away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, pushing yourself up on your elbows to see the smirk on his face.

“Well that depends on sweetheart,” he said, hands softly trailing up your legs to your hips, “You’re in charge. What do you want me to do?” he asked, squeezing your hips.

“I- I’m not sure,” you stuttered.

Jace laughed gently and you wanted to hate the affect it was having on you as your stomach fluttered, “Well I could kiss you,” he said, placing another soft kiss to your thigh, “Then touch you a little,” he ran his fingers over your clothed cunt making you almost whimper, “Then kiss you some more,” he teased, hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. “Does that sound good princess?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, entranced by his movements.

“Then lay back,” he said, hand gently pushing your waist down as you laid down and tried to control your breathing, “and be a good girl, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, almost a whisper.

Jace hooked his fingers in your panties, pulling them down painfully slow before finally pulling them off and stuffing them in his pocket. You maybe would’ve said something if he hadn’t just put your legs over his shoulders as he placed an open kiss to your clit.

Your hands went to his hair, pulling at the soft curls as he began to gently lick and suck your bundle of nerves. You felt your hips start to move, grinding against his face desperate for more friction. Jace locked his arms around your thighs, locking your hips in place making you whine. You could practically feel him smirking against your cunt.

You almost screamed when you felt his tongue move down, his nose nuzzling your clit as his tongue began to massage new spots making a tight knot quickly develop in your stomach. “Fuck,” you gasped, back arching at the feeling. Jace chuckled against your cunt, a slow rumble vibrating against it making you moan even more.

Your grip in his hair tightened and Jace loosened his grip around one of your thighs. You whined when his lips pulled away. Jace chuckled as he ran a finger up your wet cunt, placing a soft kiss to your inner thigh as he pushed two in, “Such a pretty girl,” he praised, curling his fingers perfectly inside you, “Making such pretty noises,” he added, his lips moving back to wrap around your clit.

This time he let your hips buck, grinding against his face as he lapped up your cunt while his fingers worked at a perfect pace. Your peak was very quickly approaching as he kept up his pace, his tongue unrelenting. The feeling of your legs tightening around his head almost seemed to spur him on as he moaned against your cunt sending you over the edge.

Jace didn’t stop until he felt your legs twitching and heard you gasping for air. He was wearing that stupid cocky smirk as he flopped down onto the bed beside you as you both tried to catch your breath, “Well?” he asked, nuzzling his nose against your neck, his hand finding your hip so he could rub soft circles on it with his thumb, “What grade did I get?”

You chuckled a little bit at that, his cockiness for once not making you want to punch him, “On this test? A plus,”

“Oh, there’s other tests?” he asked, eyebrow raised with that intoxicating smirk, “Guess I’ll need to study for it. maybe you should tutor me,” he said, kissing you more gently than before.

“Maybe I should,” It was safe to say you wouldn’t be walking for a while.

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rynwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Unknown - Part Two

Billy The Kid x Reader

Warnings: Smut (PIV sex, unprotected sex, brief dirty talk, no female orgasm), softness, TW: attempted assault (NOT by Billy), misogyny, murder, comfort/fluff, confessed feelings, happy ending <3

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You and Billy find yourselves in a dangerous situation, which causes feelings to surface.

Read part one here!

“Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you? That I’d walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you?” - Unknown/Nth, Hozier

Billy is, to say the least, annoyed with you. Traveling with someone for nearly two weeks will do that, you figure. You let him talk to you as you gather wood for a fire. You’re silent while he rants, going on and on about how his body aches, and how hungry he is, and how desperately he just wants to find another town. You don’t respond, and this only irritates him further.

“Say something!” Billy says. You glance at him. He doesn’t often become angry like this, you’ve come to realize, but when something sets him off . . . He gets pissed.

“Jesus, what the hell d’you want from me, Antrim? I’m just getting wood, minding my own damn business, and you–”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, you’re the one who wanted to come this way! Why haven’t we found anything? We’re running out of food!”

You shake your head.

“We have at least two days’ worth.”

“And when we go through that? Hm? What then?”

“Then we hunt, Antrim. We adapt, we make do.”

“You know that there’s not much to hunt out here. We both know that,” he says, following you around. You crouch down to start a fire. Sometimes his age shows during moments like this one. He’s still a kid, still so angry at the world and the cards he’s been dealt. You sigh.

“Then, fuck, I don’t know,” you snap. “I don’t know, okay?”

He scoffs, pulling his hat off and tugging at his hair.

“Fuck,” he huffs as he turns away. You get the fire going, then stand and turn to him. His eyes don’t meet yours. You pull on his suspenders.

“Look at me,” you say firmly. He does. You sigh. “We’re gonna be fine. You need to pull yourself together. I know you’re mad, Antrim, I am too, but we can’t lose our heads. Got it?”

He swallows harshly. He likes it when you talk to him like this, when you re-ground him. You’re the anchor to his ship, the light that shines through the fog in his mind. He glances at your lips. You know what he needs, now. He needed to be snapped at, and now he needs to let go.

It’s been a few days since the two of you were last sexually active, and when you look into Billy’s eyes, they are dark. You give his suspenders another tug, your chests nearly touching. “I said, you got it?” you repeat. He nods.

“Yes,” Billy says quietly. “I got it. ‘M sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say, shaking your head. “There’s no point.”

You let go of his suspenders and instead rest your hands on his firm chest. You can feel his heart racing, beating quickly, and you know it’s because of you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, it’s for you.

His arms hang at his sides, and you take hold of his wrists and guide them to your hips. He holds you firmly as you reach back up to touch his shoulders and chest.

“Tell me what you need,” you say, even though you already know. You want to hear him say it.

“You,” Billy tells you. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

You smile softly. He’s handsome. Dreamy.

“You know you’ve got me, Billy,” you say. He kisses you, then. It is firm, and his lips are chapped and rough. You sigh quietly, gripping his collar and pulling him closer. He knows how you like this: Rough, quick and dirty. Secretly, though, part of him hopes that he’ll one day get to make love to you, not just fuck you. He wants to know you deeply. Not just your body, but your mind. He knows what kinds of things you like to eat, and he knows that you don’t like rising with the sun, and he knows that you’re unfathomably stubborn, but . . . It’s not enough. He needs to know what your dreams are. Do you want children? A house? A man? Will you long for freedom for the rest of your life, or would you one day settle for the right person?

He needs to know where your parents were from, and what your favorite toys were when you were small, and how you like your tea. Small things. Big things. Well . . . He supposes that all things are ‘big things’ when it comes to the way he thinks of you . . .

You push his suspenders from his shoulders as the two of you kiss, then reach down to press your hand against his clothed erection. He grunts softly at the slight friction, and moves his hips forward. He says your name, quiet and desperate, and you nod.

“Take me,” you tell him, taking a small step back to remove the clothes from the bottom half of your body. While you do this, Billy pulls his cock free from his trousers. You get down in the grass, and Billy easily gets on top of you, fitting himself between your legs. You cup his cheeks and kiss him, desperate for his touch. You tug on his hair.

“Need you, Billy,” you breathe. And oh, how Billy loves to see you like this: Vulnerable and open and ready for him. He nods.

“I know,” he says, pushing his leaky tip against your core. You groan as he eases himself inside of you. He stretches you perfectly. You’re so wet, and he’s got precum dribbling from his cockhead, and the feeling of it makes him grunt. He takes your hands in his and pins you down like that. He’s been doing this more and more often, you’ve noticed. You smile softly, the softness of the moment lasting only for a second before he begins to rock his hips back and forth. You cry out as his cock rubs the sweet spot deep inside of you, your grip on his hands tightening.

“Billy!” you moan. “Ohhh f-fuck . . .”

Your body bounces beneath him, and he groans at the sight.

“Fuck . . . Such a good girl,” he breathes, voice shaky and quiet. His words go straight to your aching core, and you clench around him just to hear the choked sound that he makes. You smirk.

“Y-Yeah? You needed this, didn’t you, Billy?”

He nods.

“Uh huh.”

“How bad? H-How bad did ya n-need me?”

“O-Oh, fuck . . .” he groans. “So b-bad . . . Mmm . . .”

You nod, tilting your head back. Billy takes the bait and leans down to suck and nibble at your throat. You sigh at the feeling. He continues to hold your hands, keeping you gently pinned to the ground.

“Takin’ me so well,” Billy breathes. You hum.

“You’re close already?” you ask shakily, the pleasure in your core building as he sucks at your skin. He grunts.

“H-How did you–?”

“You’re – mm – getting s-sloppy,” you breathe. You turn your head and capture his lips with yours. He chuckles against you, moving his hips faster.

“G-God . . . Fuck . . .” Billy groans. You squeeze his hands.

“Cum f’me, Billy,” you tell him softly. “C’mon . . . W-Wanna see it . . .”

He nods, then quickly pulls his cock from your heat and jerks himself off above you. With a drawn-out moan, Billy cums, his seed covering your rising and falling stomach. You sigh at the sight, and when he finishes, he tilts his head back. You smile, leaning up on your elbows.

“So handsome,” you tell him, gesturing for him to come closer. He does, and you put your hand on the back of his head to pull his lips against yours. You sigh as you kiss him.

“Mm. That felt good,” you tell him. Billy smiles at the praise.

“I’m glad,” he says. You wipe his seed from your stomach, then shakily get to your feet and re-dress while Billy tucks himself away and adjusts his clothing. You sigh once the two of you are both righted.

“Feeling better?” you ask, stepping back towards the fire to warm your hands. He sits down beside you.

“A bit,” he says. He sighs, then looks over at you. He admires you, taking in your features in the dim, flickering light.

“Good,” you say. “If you need something like that, all you havta do is ask, you know.”

Billy nods.

“I know.”

Silence lingers between the two of you for a handful of minutes.

“Do you want to eat?” Billy asks you. You shake your head.

“I’m not really hungry.” You yawn. “I think I’m gonna rest.”

Billy nods.

“Alright.”

He watches you rise and pull the blanket from his saddle bag. You lay it down, then get comfortable on top of it. Billy looks away as you close your eyes to sleep. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. He’s never not going to think so.

You fall asleep quickly, dozing off easily knowing that Billy is here to keep you safe and watch over you.

***

The sound of skin hitting skin is what wakes you. A groan follows, and you hum softly as you sit up a bit, glancing around in confusion.

Another hit, another groan.

You look over, and your stomach drops when you see a strange man standing over Billy. Billy tries to fight back, tries to get swings in, but the man is bigger, stronger. Another man stands beside the first one, and as quietly as you can, you begin to reach down into your pocket where a small pocketknife sits.

Adrenaline pumps through you. The second man notices you, and he nudges his friend, the one punching Billy.

“Lookit,” he says, pointing at you. They both look over, and you let out a shaky breath. Billy is yanked to his feet as one of the men storms towards you. You scramble to get away, but he’s already on you, pulling you up. You struggle to get away, kicking and thrashing, but he wraps his arm around your throat and holds you in place. You gasp, your air suddenly being almost completely cut off. Billy watches in horror.

“Don’t,” he says and blood drips from his nose. The man near Billy has a knife to his throat, which keeps Billy from moving or making an attempt to rescue you. “We have money, take that instead.”

The man holding onto you hums, running his free hand over your chest as you claw at his arm, trying to breathe.

“How could we pass up such a pretty little thing?” the man says, squeezing your breast. You hiss, trying to stomp on his foot. Billy tries to break away, but the knife is pressed harder against his throat, drawing a bit of blood. He yelps.

“Stop!” Billy exclaims desperately. “Don’t touch her!”

“Oh, I’ll do more than touch her,” the man says, suddenly shoving you to the ground. You groan, gasping for breath. He’s on you before you can try to run, and he yanks at your trousers. Without thinking, you shove your hand into your pocket and pull out your pocketknife. In a swift movement, you reach around and shove it into the man’s side. He cries out loudly, and you pull the knife out and plunge it back in again and again.

Seconds after you do this, Billy catches the other man off-guard and pulls his gun on him. The man takes off without a word, knowing that a knife is nothing against a gun. You cry out as you stab the man repeatedly. He groans in agony, blood soaking his clothing and yours just the same. Billy rushes to you, grabbing your arms gently and pulling you away.

You’re trembling, head spinning and heart pounding. You try to break away.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Billy says quickly, pulling you into his arms as the man writhes on the ground. You turn, clinging to Billy’s shirt tightly.

“I-I . . .”

“I know,” he breathes as you shake against him. He holds you, one hand between your shoulders and the other on the back of your head. Tears fill your eyes.

“Billy,” you breathe. It’s all you can think to say. Billy’s head throbs, nose still gushing blood, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s never seen you so afraid, so shaken, and it breaks his heart. You didn’t deserve this.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

You let out a soft cry. You can’t even bring yourself to answer. The man groans and shakes in front of you and Billy, and Billy shields your eyes. He has half a mind to shoot the bastard in order to shut him up, but his cries die out steadily. The life drains from his eyes as he loses more and more blood.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Are you alright?” Billy asks again softly, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head up. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I . . . Yes. I think so.”

He nods.

“You’re alright,” he reassures you. “You’re safe.”

Guilt is eating away at him. He should have done something. He should have shot the men right away, he should have fought his way out of it to protect you. His grip on you tightens slightly. You let out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” you ask, wiping a bit of blood from his face. He nods even though he isn’t, not really.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he tells you. You nod, then glance back at the dead man beside the fire. You look away, burying your face against Billy’s chest.

“We should go,” you breathe. He nods.

“I know.”

Neither of you move. Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head. God, he was so scared. He isn’t sure what he would have done with himself if the man had taken you. He’s glad he won’t have to know. You wrap your arms around Billy’s middle and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more,” Billy says finally. You pull away slightly and look up at him. You shake your head.

“He had you cornered, Antrim,” you say softly, shaking your head. “There wasn’t much you could’ve done.”

You lean in and kiss his cheek.

“It’s alright. We’re alright.”

He nods, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m always gonna do my best to protect you,” he says. “I’m sorry that I–”

“Stop apologizing,” you say quietly. “Please. It’s alright. I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re okay–”

“I care about you," Billy says quickly. You pause. “I . . . I care about you. I’d die if somethin’ happened to you.”

You search his face. He means it. Oh, god . . . He means it.

“Billy . . .” He swallows harshly and looks away. You cup his cheek and tilt his head up so he’s looking at you again. “I care about you, too.”

A small, barely-there smile tugs at the corner of Billy’s mouth.

“You mean it?” he asks. You nod.

“You know me, Billy. I wouldn’t lie.”

His smile widens, and he kisses you gently. You hum against his mouth. “I know.”

#rynwritesstuff #billy the kid #billy the kid x you #billy the kid smut #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #william bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #billy antrim #billy antrim x reader #billy antrim x you #kid antrim #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth

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siriusleee · 7 months

Text

shot through with gold

“I smashed the whole house to bits,” Johnny keeps going, turning to put the milk in the refrigerator. “Had to get Simon over here to help me put it back together. It was his idea by the way. To get the mug fixed. He said you’d be mad if it was gone when you came home.”

tags: coming back home, implied torture, capture, smut, riding, reader is afab, mentions of medical procedures, mentions of blood word count: 7.7k author's note: This was a commission by the best and brightest @gazs-blue-hat. If you'd like to commission a fic, visit my ko-fi for more information. Also, I refuse to disgrace the good country of Scotland by attempting to do the full Scottish accent. Readers call sign is Sparrow, but it's only used once.

The room is heavy with dust; small puffs cloud around Johnny’s boots as he pads across the plush carpet. The summer’s oppressive heat makes the walls sweat - you’d be worrying about the mold forming in the drywall if you could see it. But Johnny doesn’t think of the way his handprints smudge on the paint you spent weeks agonizing over or the way your perfume lingers in the still air even after all this time.

His singular mission - to grab a few shirts he needs and leave - is the only thought he allows himself to think about, hands combing through the dressers and eyes trained downward, away from all the pictures hanging on the wall. He avoids your side of the dresser, avoids the lace that still peaks out from your top drawer.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, Johnny ignores it as he pulls the shirts he came to look for out of the dresser drawer, tucking them beneath his arm. He follows his tracks in the dust back out, eyes cast down at the carpet. The whole trip takes less than 10 minutes; he doesn’t let himself look up until he’s slamming the passenger door of Simon’s truck shut behind him.

“Got everything?” Simon asks, shifting the truck into drive.

Johnny sits ramrod straight in the seat, eyes avoiding Simon’s as he buckles in.

“Yeah, got everything.”

Your fingers trace over the marks you’d carved into the soft stone wall. You’d tried to keep a tally mark of days, but time slipped by in odd increments within your cell. Some days you’d watch the sunrise from the cracks in the ceiling and after just a blink, the inky blackness of night would be seeping in. Sometimes the sun hung in the sky for months before finally falling to the full moon. No matter how hard you tried to decode the pattern, the moment you had it everything would reset.

The guards were in on it; they had to be. They’d bring your meals at odd times - sometimes you’d still be full from the moldy slop they shoved in between the cell bars, spilling it out onto the floor like you’re an animal in a cage, and sometimes you’d be so hungry that you could barely crawl to eat.

It was supposed to be someone else - you were pulled for guard duty after another soldier slogged off and broke his foot doing something stupid while training. You’d finally been pulled to work with Johnny, three days away from being a full transfer to the 141 when your C.O. had appeared at the door of your bunk, new orders in hand.

A simple guard duty: get the guy to where he was supposed to be going, hand him off, and fly home. Your transfer could wait an extra forty-eight hours. But your plane was shot down somewhere over the middle of nowhere - you had told your C.O. that flying that low was a risk, but the desert was empty and the plane was old. They’d been making the flight for weeks, ferrying men back and forth with no hiccups. Your flight should have been no different.

It should have been someone else.

You couldn’t remember what had hit your small passenger plane: but the ground was David, and you were Goliath. You’d hit the ground beside the pilot’s head, his mouth formed in a soundless scream, and after a quick flash of black, had woken up to a bucket of water being poured across your face.

Whatever language your captives screamed at you, you didn’t know it. And if they knew any of the ones you screamed back at them: Spanish, Arabic, German, they didn’t let you in on it. You couldn’t figure out what they wanted until they’d ripped the Union Flag from the breast of your vest, a quick picture on a Polaroid camera snapped above you before you realized what they wanted.

Blood dribbled down your chin when you laughed at them: the government didn’t even pay for soldiers who got captured at war. What would they pay for your half-broken body to get shipped back in a wooden box? A simple mistake that could be written off as a plane malfunction.

The anger had come first, feet and fists slamming into the men when they appeared at the cell doors. Nails ripped from their beds when you tried to claw at the seams in the walls. It had cost you a few teeth and a pound of flesh. And then, when you were tired of the endless beatings and anger that went nowhere, you begged them to kill you, to do something to end the torment. By the marks on the wall, it took months before you first asked to be killed, and only weeks later for that to end, each request met with silence and a sneer. Now you lay in the corner, waiting for the few moments when they’d let you out to see the sun glinting off of the mountain ranges, the clouds threatening to storm in the distance.

Those quick trips seemed to come with less frequency as time slipped by.

You trace the tattoo on your thigh; they’d cut through it once after you kicked one of them in the chest, his ribs caving beneath your feet, but even beneath the dried viscera and matted dirt that covered your skin, you could still see Johnny’s name there.

You wonder if he’s picked a gravestone for you yet.

The two of you had talked about it, once. It was the nature of your jobs - to be prepared for everything that could come your way. Your wills were done: 75% to Johnny, 15% to your sister’s kids, and the rest to a local charity. Johnny wrote in that you were to get 100% of everything he owned, and you had chided him about it.

“What about your mom? Your sisters?” You had asked across the steam from your cup of coffee. Johnny had shrugged, dropping the black pen onto the table with finality.

“Already taken care of, birdie.”

After that had come the talk of headstones and burial plots. Of missing bodies and cremation. You had told Johnny that whatever he thought you’d like, to pick out. You weren’t picky about it.

You wonder if the military let him put his last name on the stone.

A decidedly male voice shouts from around the corner, and you pull back into the stone wall. Seconds later, fetid food falls through the bars. The man shouts at you, pointing at the food on the ground. Lazily, you turn your head towards him, watching the way he sneers at you through the bars.

They must be getting angry then. No ransom came through after all these months.

You bare your teeth at him.

You’d rip his throat out if you had the strength to do so anymore.

Johnny’s fingers don’t shake like they used to when he buckles the strap of his helmet, the night vision goggles weighing him down. He’s tired - exhausted. The entire convey smells of cigarettes and sweat. Heavy men in heavy gear press around him; across from him Gaz’s eyes shine terribly bright in the darkness. They press in on Johnny, forcing him back into his seat heavily.

Price’s voice is loud in his comms, intermingling with the sounds of the Marines and the whir of the mechanics beneath his feet. Johnny can’t make out the details over the sound of the truck rumbling beneath him.

“Steady Soap?”

Gaz knows - Johnny doesn’t know how Gaz can do this kind of job with the way he fucking oozes empathy. Or sympathy. Johnny could never remember which one was which, he always had to ask you which one to use. Gaz had been the only one who’d asked him if he was alright; Simon had lingered at the edges of rooms Johnny was in to keep an eye on him, and Price tried to give him an extended leave. Johnny had refused.

But Gaz had been waiting until Johnny was sitting outside of some bar a group of Seals had taken them to - a celebration for a job well done months after you were gone, after Johnny's failed attempt to find you.

“You good?” Gaz had asked, fingers twirling a cigarette he would never light.

“O’course.”

It had made Johnny feel like shit to lie to Gaz, and the same feeling washes over him as Gaz’s eyes linger on Johnny.

The warm summer air washes over them; sweat is starting to coat his lower back, his fatigues keeping him too warm. The smell of the desert, of warmed sand keeps him grounded, reminds him of where he is - what he’s doing here.

In the glint of the moonlight, the mountaintops shine at him.

The first few missions had been difficult: he’d fought like hell to try to search for you, fuck the regulations. He’d resign if it meant finding you. The rest of the fucking government didn’t care: no one on the plane was as important as anyone else, not to the officials anyway. Johnny had done just that, his resignation had landed heavily on Price’s desk, only to land in the trashcan a moment later.

Gaz volunteered to follow Johnny, but Price had cut that off quickly. It was to be Johnny and Simon only. They had five days, a week at most before they had to be back home.

The farthest they got was the plane wreckage, a little burnt-out village miles away, and sheep that stared at them from the sides of the mountains. But he couldn’t find a trace of you or a singular person who even recognized the photo of you he kept tucked inside his gear. Even after Simon had disobeyed Price’s orders to return home now after weeks had passed. They didn’t find anything.

Johnny knew that’s why Price had volunteered the 141 for this mission - a small-time terrorist cell hiding out in a country they didn’t belong to, a small promise of the bodies of missing soldiers hidden somewhere.

It was something.

The guards are panicking; the dirt walls shake around you. You can’t guess what it could be: American pilots doing a blind bombing, Russians pretending to send help only to rain down hell on the perceived innocent. Maybe God’s here to level the land and flood it. Try again. Do something different this time.

He could start with your cell, you think, scraping at the dirt on your leg. Underneath the sun-starved skin is paler than it should be. If you ever leave, you think, the first thing you’re going to do is eat a fucking steak in the sunshine. The bones that refused to set correctly ache beneath your bruised flesh.

The sound of gunfire pierces the inescapable silence. Your captors yell, screams punctuating between the bursts of firepower. Good, maybe they’ll tear each other apart and leave you here to die in peace.

Maybe it was a poker game gone extremely wrong. Someone asked to strip when they should have been ponying up the cash.

Smoke pops in the hallway outside, you don’t run from the white creeping in on you, just pull the rags that were your shirt over your mouth to try and keep breathing. It overtakes your cell; you watch as the smoke creeps through the cracks in the ceiling.

The sounds of war flood the small cell - the taste of blood and gunpowder in the air around you. You can taste the iron when you breathe in. It coats your tongue. You run your teeth across the chipped and broken enamel, mixing the taste of other’s blood with your own.

Someone shouts so close this time you can almost make out the words - American accent thick and heavy in your ears - and it stirs something inside of you. You try to navigate the cell through the smoke, rolling painfully off of the pallets your captors had so kindly turned into a bed for you. Crawling across the excreta and mud you try to make a sound, but you haven’t spoken in months.

Your throat is raw, and the sounds that come from you are barely human. You’ll be surprised the men even hear you, let alone notice you there on the ground. You try to pull yourself up at the bars, but the fracture in your ankle that healed up wrong weeks ago keeps you on your knees.

“Hey-” you finally croak out loud enough for one of the men to cast his eyes down at you. “Please.”

He’s so familiar, the softness in his eyes tugging at something familiar inside of you, the sharpness of his shoulders calling to you. You pull yourself up, leaning heavily on the bars and the one ankle that doesn’t scream at you, hands slipping through the bars to try to reach towards him.

His gun drops, swinging loosely on its strap as he steps towards you. His fatigues are filthy, and his nose wrinkles beneath the cloth mask covering his face. You know you smell terrible, and you want to apologize for it, but you can’t make the words come. He looks so tired as he steps towards you, hands reaching out to grip the bars between the two of you.

“Sparrow?”

“Johnny?”

It takes days for you to make it home: IVs from field medics who barely know what they’re doing, anti-viral meds, shots, stitches. They don’t even let you take a real shower until you’ve landed at a base you barely recognize. It’s a painful process, a female nurse wiping at you gently, but still peeling away layers of skin with each pass of the washcloth, your sobs muffled by the shower.

Johnny waits for you on the fringes of all the people that press around you, poking you, prodding you painfully until finally, you find yourself slammed into a British hospital bed.

Johnny comes in the moment they let him, hands held behind his back in a mock parade rest. You barely recognize him, his mohawk almost completely grown out and bags under his eyes. You know you don’t look much better; you’d caught sight of yourself in a mirror before they’d forced you into bed. Ruined was the only word to describe what you saw. Too thin, too broken. Too torn apart to be stitched back together. At least not without all the types of therapy a military doctor listed out to you: hydro, occupational, physical, mental.

Neither of you know what to say, so you start with the last thing the doctor told you.

“They’re going to rebreak my ankle tomorrow,” your voice is still thin, full of isolation. You’d tested it out on everyone who’d been in to work on you, but it didn’t sound right at all. Johnny shuffles nervously where he stands, and then rushes forward to sit in the chair beside your bed. He’s moving wrong, you think, like a wind-up doll. Too slow and then all at once, too fast.

“Why?”

“I healed up wrong.”

Johnny’s hands play with the edge of the blanket that dangles off of the bed, eyes trained on the fabric. He’s not going to look at you. At the ruin you’ve become. You press yourself down harder into the thin mattress, hands tucked beneath your thighs to keep them still.

“Is it going to hurt?”

You can’t help but smile at his question, your toes twitching beneath the blanket that feels so out of place across you. How many months had they had you? A year? No one had told you yet.

“They said I’d be fucked up on medicine. But probably, yeah."

Johnny’s hands aren’t still against the blanket, instead reaching out towards you. The movement startles you, and you jerk to the opposite side, nearly pulling your IVs out. Johnny pulls his hands back, crossing them across his chest.

“When you -” his voice breaks, just a moment before he put it back together, eyes finally meeting yours, “when you come home I’ll bring the bedroom downstairs so that you don’t have to walk far.”

You have the nagging suspicion that he changed what he was going to say at the last moment.

"Are you going to sleep on the couch with me?" You try to tease, but your voice falls flat, unpracticed. But it still makes Johnny smile, sharp incisors digging into his chapped lips.

"I'll sleep wherever you tell me."

The two of you are surrounded by the sounds of the hospital: the beeps of the heart rate monitors, the sounds of the nurses' quiet conversation outside of your room. You trace your hands across the blanket, grasping Johnny’s whenever your fingers collide with each other.

For a moment, neither of you move, just languish in the feeling of each other’s skin; you’re too busy tracing Johnny’s palm to notice him pushing himself closer to you until he kisses you, softly but with a tight undercurrent of desperation, his hand tightening almost painfully on yours.

The feeling of someone touching you so gently after weeks of rage and anger nearly stops your heart. The monitor goes crazy; Johnny pulls back, just the hint of a smile on his lips.

It takes four weeks for Johnny to get the go ahead to bring you home. Each day you were in the hospital he would come for a quick chat before work, bringing you breakfast he picked up. Every day after, he would collapse in the chair beside your bed, smelling of sweat and gunpowder.

The smell made you recoil when he tried to kiss you, and he didn't try again after that, even after you tried to stutter out a why. But the day the doctor tells Johnny that you can go home, you awaken to Johnny outside of the hospital room, arms crossed as he speaks to the head doctor - Johnny looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him off the battlefield.

Everyone rotates around you as if you’re not there, packing the room up, pulling your IVs out, fingers prodding and poking you until a nurse aide wheels a wheelchair into the room for you.

”Ready?” She asks, locking the brakes. She looks at you from across the room, and you know what she wants. Starting the day after they rebroke your bones, they made you get up and start walking, and you push yourself off of the bed, walkable cast heavy against the tile floor.

Johnny’s in the room in a second, catching sight of you whenever he sees you stumbling over your cast across the room. The aide lets him push her out of the way, his hands gripping the wheelchair as you lower yourself down.

“I can walk out, you know.” You grumble at Johnny as he tosses a heavy folder into your lap.

“Hospital procedure, birdie.”

Simon’s truck is waiting for the two of you in the parking lot, Simon in the driver's seat. He throws a glance at you as Johnny helps you clamber into the backseat, crowded around by grocery bags.

“Hello, Luv.”

“Hello, Simon. Thank you for the ride.”

Simon opens his mouth to speak, black hospital mask sliding up, but he’s cut off by Johnny clambering into the passenger seat.

You watch Johnny from the backseat, foot propped up beside you. His hair has grown out too long, the Mohawk nearly disappeared and his beard has started to grow in. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him anything other than clean-shaven; even in the field, he'll butcher himself with a knife before he lets it grow in.

He’s thinner than he should be, too. You wonder if he’d been eating like he was supposed to.

The drive home is disorientating, Simon taking turns too sharply, too quick for your still queasy stomach. By the time Johnny helps you climb down from the truck, dropping your hands quickly when both of your feet are on the ground.

The house is clean, too clean for Johnny to have been here alone. Like he can sense you'd skepticism, Johnny speaks from ahead of you.

“I’ve hired a cleaner,” Johnny says, holding the door open for you. “So don’t worry about anything.”

It’s odd to be back home; you trace your fingers across the knick-knacks you’d collected throughout the years, the furniture you’ve spent years picking out. You have memories of sitting here with Johnny, memories of Simon and Gaz laughing from the kitchen. But now all you feel is lost, a bottle floating in a foreign ocean.

You wander into the kitchen, fingers trailing against the wall - there are no dirty dishes in the sink, no food in the cabinets; Johnny wasn’t living here.

The only dish you recognize is sitting on the counter, you pick it up, feeling the unfamiliar weight in your hand.

“It’s called Kintsugi.”

The Japanese word rolls heavily off of Johnny’s tongue, your fingers pause tracing the golden lines that cut through the mug. It was your favorite, a gift from when you and Johnny had first met. The two of you met at a diner, out with mutual friends. You’d thought it was cute, the name of the diner printed across the front in vintage lettering. Johnny had swiped it for you, hiding it beneath his jacket until the two of you parted ways at your doorstep.

“What happened to it?”

“I broke it,” he admits, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter. Your fingernail can’t find any snag in the glaze, any sign that the mug has never had the golden lines cutting through it.

Johnny busies himself with unloading the bag, speaking without looking at you as he confesses.

“After you were taken, I spent weeks searching for you until Price forced me to come home. I was angry, and I smashed it.”

You can feel the frown sketched onto your face; you don’t look at Johnny as you set the mug down on the counter.

You lean against the counter and watch Johnny busy himself with the groceries.

“He was right,” you admit, feeling silly over the sadness that fills you over the broken cup, “but maybe that’s something Simon has a lot of experience with broken things ya’know.”

You and Johnny orbit each other for weeks: he’s there every day until you begin to question if he’s gotten himself fired to stay home with you. He drives you everywhere, and if he can’t, Simon waits for you just out past the front gate, no doubt on Johnny’s orders.

“I had a lot of time off,” he says one day, elbow-deep in the laundry that he dumped between the two of you, eyes cast on the television. “Never had a reason to take it before.”

Your hands smooth the wrinkles out of one of Johnny’s shirts, fingers picking at the loose string. Today had been talk therapy, recommended by the SAS doctors. They were strict about all the requirements you had to meet if you ever wanted to go back, and laying on a shrink’s couch for two hours a week was one of them.

The graying doctor had asked you if you had spoken to Johnny about the anger that still wells up in you, the dreams you have of tearing your captives to pieces with your hands, the internal self-flagellation you went through every night when you thought about the career you’d worked so hard for, and have now lost.

You had spent the rest of the day thinking about what he said, even when it meant not paying attention to the medical doctor’s order when they were cutting your cast off, but Johnny took in every word.

You almost say something then, tossing Johnny’s shirt onto his pile, but the wrong words come out.

“You need a haircut.”

“Yeah?” Johnny’s hands still around a pair of your shorts, you feel him watching you in his peripheral vision. “You want to cut it?”

Of course, you did; you spend more moments than not thinking about how his hair must feel like long if it’s still soft. But every time the two of you tried to touch each other, the other pulled away.

So when Johnny takes your hand, and pulls you up the stairs, you let him - hand heavy and warm in your own.

Johnny lowers himself onto the closed toilet seat; you feel unsteady as you approach him, clippers in hand, and you’re not sure if it’s from the closeness or the weight of your cast being removed.

“Are you sure you trust me to do this?” You ask again; since you’d come home your fingers had been a kind of clumsy they’d never been before.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Johnny keeps his eyes trained on you, fingers tapping against the tight denim stretched across his jeans.

“I can scalp you bald,” you admit, switching the clippers on, “and then you’d look like a Q-Ball for eight weeks.”

“I’ll be the best damn Q-Ball anyone’s ever seen,” Johnny says, beard twitching as he smirks at you. If he notices the way your fingers tremble when you take his jaw in your hand, he doesn’t say anything.

His eyes close at the feeling of the clippers cutting through his hair, no doubt the feeling of the weight being removed was comfortable for him.

“You didn’t do this while I was - while I was gone?”

Your therapist says you shouldn’t shy away from calling your kidnapping what it was, but you still can’t form the words in front of Johnny.

He hums at your words, never opening his eyes as he speaks.

“I don’t let anyone else touch my hair, birdie.”

“What about your beard?”

Johnny snorts, eyes meeting yours as you maneuver his head to the side.

“You don’t like it?”

You like the way he feels against your skin, you want to tell him. But you can’t make the words form, can’t spit them out. Johnny watches you chew on them for a moment before he lets out a sigh. His hair is scattered on the floor around the two of you, more than you’d thought he’d had.

You swap the guards to shorten his mohawk, pressing yourself in between Johnny’s knees so that you can reach the nape of his neck.

His hands wrap around your thighs, light and warm against the skin that peeks out beneath the shorts you hadn’t taken off since you’d left your cast removal this morning.

Your skin is on fire at his touch, you try to ignore it as you clean up his neck; Johnny buries his face in your shirt, breath warm against your stomach. His fingers trace light patterns on your thigh and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep the clippers from straying.

His fingers trace the scar that covers his name, and you jump back like you’ve been shocked. Your back hits the wall, knocking the decorative towels you’d spent days choosing to the floor. Johnny’s hands linger in the air between the two of you as you try to catch your breath.

“Sorry,” you pant out with a heavy swallow.

Johnny pushes himself up, eyes watching you like you’re a wild animal ready to run.

He reaches out and brushes some of his fallen hair from your shoulders, electrifying your skin again. His touch is hesitant as he traces up your shoulder, fingers cupping the back of your neck.

He’s fire as he presses himself against you, lips brushing over yours just quick enough to light something up inside of you before pulling away with an apology. He loosens the clippers from your hands and shoos you out with a promise he’ll clean the hair up himself.

A storm rages outside, threatening to cut the power at any moment. You watch it throw around tree limbs and leaves through the front window. Behind you, the television casts soft shadows on the walls.

“Still pouring out there?” Johnny asks from his spot on the couch. Your answer is the curtain falling back into place. You pad back to your spot beside Johnny; he holds the blanket up for you to slip underneath.

His bare leg rubs against yours, but his hands stay firmly in his lap. He hadn’t tried to touch you since that day in the bathroom - even when he dropped you off at therapy, you’d wait for him to stretch across and kiss you, but he’d just send you off with a wave.

You knew it was partially your fault: you couldn’t get the words out to explain how much you wanted him to touch you, how sorry you were for every jerk away. Every time you tried to tell him how much you wanted him, the words curled into your throat and refused to budge. You had even asked earlier for him to take a shower with you, to no avail.

The movie - some family flick Johnny picked because it didn’t have any violence, you know - cast shadows across Johnny’s face. His stubble is starting to come in again; you reach out and trace your finger across the five o’clock shadow creeping onto his jawline.

Johnny doesn’t take his eyes away from the television screen, but he leans his face into your touch. Your fingers trace upwards, lacing through the Mohawk you’d trimmed just two weeks ago. Johnny nearly purrs when you tug on his hair, pulling him down so that he’s lying across your lap.

You have to take it slow, you know or you and Johnny both might break apart. So you just settle beneath him, fingers tracing patterns onto his scalp, eyes trained on the television, but not really watching.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back,” you whisper, voice nearly drowned out by the storm outside. Johnny rolls, doing his best not to dig painfully into your thigh to look up at you.

“To work?”

You nod, still refusing to look at him.

“I talked about it with the therapist today; I just - I think it would be best if I just cashed in my retirement. I’ve got a lot saved up: hazard pay and all that. The corporal offered me a job as a trainer. So I could still be around."

Johnny’s hand reaches up to grab your wrist, forcing you to look at him. You can’t read the expression on his face, and you don’t like that. He’s always your open book. You try to keep your heart rate steady at the feeling of him tracing patterns on your wrist.

“I’m sorry, birdie.”

And you know he’s not just apologizing for your ruined career, for the nearly year you’d spent locked away in some disgusting cell, for the still broken teeth in your mouth, or the screws that hold most of you together now. He’s still apologizing for not being able to find you earlier, to be there months earlier.

“It’s not your fault Johnny - I should have told them no. I should have been smart enough to just tell my commanding that I couldn’t do it. I should have-“

Hot tears start to fall; Johnny pushes himself up, fingers brushing them away gently. When you don’t shy away from his touch, he pulls you into his lap, tucking your head beneath his chin, and pulling you so tight you think you might break beneath his touch. And you would let yourself shatter beneath him, if it meant he could put you back together, shot through with gold.

Johnny lets you cry on his shoulder until the fabric of his shirt is soaking wet; after a while, the smell of him, the softness of the way he caresses your back,and the feeling of his jean-clad thigh between your own stirs something else inside of you. You need something else, something more desperate, something to push away the feelings of failure. Of the fear that still lingers in you of heights, and darkness, and men who smell of sweat and gunpowder.

So when you kiss him, softly, Johnny doesn’t push you away like he can feel how much you need him to touch you. Even as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, you don’t break the kiss. It stays superficial, and soft, neither of you breaking apart or deepening it. You expect him to carry you to the spare bed he brought downstairs for you, but instead, he cradles you up the stairs, hands gripping your thighs so tight you know there will be a thumb-shaped bruise there tomorrow.

Johnny doesn’t stumble as he carries you.

In the bedroom the two of you shared before you were lost, Johnny collapses on the bed, his smell enveloping you, hands never leaving you. He buries his nose in the soft skin of your neck, breathing in the smell of you.

“Are you here with me birdie?”

Johnny’s voice is muffled on your skin, his hands pausing at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m here Johnny.”

You rest your hands on his biceps and feel the way his heart is in your own chest. His weight presses down around you, the mattress sinking down beneath the two of you. The wind rolls in through the window, gooseflesh erupting on your skin where Johnny isn’t touching.

Johnny’s hands don’t move from the hem of your shirt until you slide your own down to his wrists, a bravery you hadn’t felt in weeks taking over you.

“Please, Johnny.”

Johnny shifts, knees spreading your own apart, but he still doesn’t touch your bare skin until you tug on his wrists, trying to slide them underneath your shirt, instead, he traces your arms - the area you know he thinks is safe.

The feeling of his calloused hands on your soft skin makes you shiver; Johnny presses a kiss to your pulse point. You know he can feel the way your heartbeat picks up quickly, and he bites down on the sensitive skin lightly. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way you buck your hips upward into his.

“Birdie.” It’s a warning and a promise rolled into one, and it makes you press your knees together, trying to slow yourself down.

You let your own hands start exploring Johnny. Once, you’d had his skin memorized - every scar and freckle committed to your own memory. But there are new scars there you’ve never seen before, new wrinkles at the corner of his eyes he didn’t have before.

It’s like the first time again, both of you exploring each other slowly. Johnny pauses every time you make a noise, eyes searching your face to make sure you’re alright. You push him away just long enough to pull his shirt off of him, hands instantly reaching out to pull him back down. His own hands slide your shorts down until you can kick them across the room.

Johnny kisses you, full of the same desperation he’d had that day at the hospital. Your teeth click together as the two of you suddenly move frantically, hands grasping at each other. Johnny shakes as you run your nails down his back, pushing until he realizes what you want.

Johnny rolls, hands still wrapped around your waist until you’re on top of him. The thin material of your panties is already wet; you can feel it when you grind down on him. The rough material of his blue jeans has enough friction to send lighting bolts through you.

“Is that what you want birdie?” Johnny’s voice is low and rough in his throat; his hands rest lightly on your hips as you grind down. Your hands reach back to rest on his thighs, more leverage for you to move.

You can’t answer him, already biting down on the moans that start to build in the back of your throat. Johnny’s grip tights as you speed up; you can feel his erection pressing tightly against his zipper as you grind faster.

You feel yourself start to tremble, hands moving to brace yourself against Johnny’s chest. He wraps one hand around your wrist, the other still at your waist; you can’t look away from the hungry glint in his eye.

Outside the storm lashes, the cool air rolling in across you and Johnny.

“Let it out,” he whispers, voice ragged and panting. He’s bucking his own hips in time with your grinding; he’s holding back - you know he doesn’t want to scare you, so you loosen the knot inside of you, moaning loud enough that a blush starts to creep up your chest. At the sound, Johnny bucks up harder.

You can’t help the way you come undone, nails digging into Johnny’s chest, leaving half moons on the sensitive skin. Johnny lets you ride him until the waves of your orgasm finish rolling over you, his hands not leaving you until you finally still, thighs shaking on each side of him. You can feel your drenched underwear, feel yourself soaking into his blue jeans.

Johnny is so hard beneath you, a red flush across his chest. Outside the storm rages harder, and the lights flicker momentarily. Johnny pushes himself up onto one elbow, the hand that has refused to move up your shirt sliding up just an inch. His fingers play with the edge of your underwear, the lace snagging on his callouses.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?” You can barely hear yourself over the rain lashing against the window; Johnny’s eyebrows knit together, and he pushes himself up until he’s sitting up, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep from falling backward.

“I want to touch you,” he tries to reassure you, hands tracing patterns across the back of your shirt. But you shrug his hands off, catching his wrists in your hands before he can fully withdraw away.

“You won’t touch me beneath my shirt,” you slide his hands down to the bare skin of your thighs, moving them until the hem of your shirt falls over his fingertips. “You wouldn’t take a shower with me.”

Johnny chews on his lips, they’re too chapped, you think. The silence stretches in the sound of the storm, and the flickering lights. Before Johnny can speak lightning and thunder crash outside, and the house goes dark - the sound of the electricity powering down cutting him off. Neither of you moves in the sudden blackness.

“I’m not broken, Johnny.” You don’t want to sound so pathetic, but you do.

“I know you’re not, hen.”

“Then why am I having to beg, Johnny?”

Johnny’s hand slips up so that he’s holding your hips beneath your shirt.

“I’m not going to hurt you too.”

It’s a tough confession for him to make, you know. He’d done his best not to talk about the whole ordeal, he never asked what you went through. This was his way of keeping you away from it.

You roll your hips across his again, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Please Johnny; you’re not going to hurt me.”

You don’t know if it’s the whine in your voice or the way you trace your fingers across the hard plane of his chest, or if Johnny is just as tired of holding back as you - but he rolls you over, gentle and quick until his chest his pressed against yours, his mouth finding the sensitive skin at the base of your neck.

You’re horribly out of practice, fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, getting stuck when Johnny pulls your shirt over your head, but he doesn’t let his lips leave you; your teeth clip together as Johnny deepens the kiss he refuses to let end until your gasping for breath beneath him.

It’s electric in the best and worst ways - Johnny’s calloused fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear, pushing them further down each time.

The current running through you makes it difficult to breathe; you can’t even warn Johnny, can’t beg him to slow down what you were just begging him to speed up. But there has never been anyone who’s known you the same way Johnny has, and when his hands slow you know he can feel that it’s too much. Just for a moment.

“Still with me?”

“Still here.”

Johnny’s hands don’t speed up, but he doesn’t slow either - pressing open-mouth kisses down your neck, between your breasts, across the planes of your stomach until he finally stops at the edge of your underwear. He darts his tongue out to lick the sensitive skin peeking out above the hem, and the feeling makes you gasp out, hips pressing harder into the mattress. His fingertips brush just over the wetness you’ve soaked through and you grind your teeth together, painfully.

“Too much?”

Yes.

Too much for you at this moment; you’re not sure if your body will hold together if Johnny even tries to eat you out, tries to stretch you with his fingers, you can hardly keep together at the feeling of him touching you anywhere after so many months of nothing but dirt, and maggots, and feverish longing for-

You didn’t notice Johnny crawling back up your body until he presses a soft kiss on your temple, fingers wiping away your hair that’s plastered with sweat there.

Johnny’s whispering in your ear: how much he missed you, how he had thought about you every day, how he’d tried to scorch the earth to look for you; he pulls you until you’re back on top of him. You can feel how hard he is, how wet you are as you grind down against the hard planes of his lower stomach, searching for him.

Johnny’s hands squeeze at your hips, shifting the both of you until you feel the tip of him catch against you; a shudder rolls through you both, but Johnny doesn’t move. Every muscle in his body is pulled taunt, pulled against fucking into you at a frenetic pace. You recognize the set of his jaw, the way his hands wrap around your forearms. He’s letting you set the pace, letting you control him.

You wait for just a heartbeat before pressing down onto him; your vision whites out from the almost uncomfortable stretch of him as you sink down slowly. You can’t remember the last time the two of you were here, the last time the two of you fucked. Johnny’s nails dig into the underside of your forearm, yours into his chest until you finally reach the hilt.

You hold there for a moment, feeling the way he fills you up - so much so that you don’t think there’s room for anything else besides Johnny - there never has been. You can’t even think between the feeling of Johnny filling you up and the feeling of not trying to cum so fast. Finally, when your heartbeat slows incrementally, you rock yourself against him, slowly, using his chest as leverage.

Beneath you Johnny is coming undone; he’s biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood, so you trace your fingertips across his bottom lip. His lips part beneath your touch, and he takes your pointer finger into his mouth, tongue swirling around it.

The feeling makes your hips move faster, stuttering against him. Johnny moans, muffled around your finger. The sound is horribly erotic in the darkness, and it spurs something inside of you to move your hips faster, rougher against Johnny. But he doesn’t move beneath you, still holding himself back. The sound of skin on skin, of how wet you are for him drown out the storm.

Johnny’s hands are everywhere: in your hair, cupping the supple flesh of your ass, pinching and rolling your nipples between his thick fingers; one hand sneaks across the flesh of your hip, dipping between the two of you to circle your clit. The feeling makes you crumple against him; Johnny takes the opportunity to roll you over, pressing you into the mattress.

Johnny presses one of your knees up, hooking it over his elbow so that he can fuck into you, still gentle even when he’s deeper than you think he’s ever been before, his other hand still circling your clit, slowly enough to keep you from falling apart, but fast enough to bring you to the edge.

His pace grows rougher; you claw at him, drawing red welts across his skin, but Johnny doesn’t slow down. You keep your eyes closed tightly, back arched to try and get him in deeper, to get more.

“Look at me.”

Johnny’s voice is rough, a gentle command you have to follow. His eyes never leave yours, even when his pace increases, the finger on your clit still rubbing tight circles until-

Until you’re breaking apart, shattering beneath him. Your orgasm makes you arch, back nearly leaving the mattress. Johnny’s hands move to cup your face, pulling himself down until he can kiss you as you ride through your orgasm, gasping in his own mouth. Your nails draw thick red welts across his back, but Johnny doesn’t stop pounding into you, your moans drowned out by the way he kisses you.

Not long after, Johnny’s pace starts to stutter, his lips never leaving yours until he plunges in deeper than he had before, and you can feel his warm release spill out inside of you.

Even when he’s completely spent, Johnny doesn’t pull out of you, instead fucking into you once, twice, three more times until you know you can’t take anymore, hands pressing on his chest to push him away.

Johnny’s fingers smooth your twitching thighs as he pulls away. In the darkness, you can just see his outline as he shifts between your legs, but he doesn’t move from there.

He caresses you until you are finally still and your panting finally slows. His fingers trace across the cracks you can still feel, stitching you back together, shot through with gold.

“Still here?”

“Still here.”

#my fics #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod soap x reader #cod imagines #cod smut #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny mactavish

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threezzyo · 2 months

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໒‧₊˚ your little secret ∘︴fushiguro t.

∾you were always a good girl, as a governor's daughter, but little did anyone know... it's only natural to have a crush on your bodyguard. 6'1", the biggest muscles you've ever seen, scars begging to be licked. months of seducing him leads to something you wanted, something secret between the two of you. daddy doesn't have to know that his daughter is hooking up with her bodyguard behind the scenes.

∾older!bodyguard! toji fushiguro x fem!brat!reader. modern au. word count- 3.4k ∾NSFW! MDNI! age gap, (17 years) reader is a senior in high school (19, early birthday). dark-ish content! brat taming. no use of y/n. toji is a bit harsh... kinda 'used' as a toy. (mentions of using as a sleeve) usage of brat, slut, minx, good girl (for reader) and daddy, oldie, mister (for toji). promiscuous reader. finger sucking. car sex. smoking. oral (m recieving) riding! pussyjob kind of. slight exhibitionism (in a parking lot where literally anyone can see them......) biting. lots of teasing lorddd. just filthy, depraved, NASTYY smut.

∾indi's notes: i am sorry for being so iffy with posting and i will also stick to a theme now lol 😜 divider creds to @/cafekitsune

you were nineteen and hopelessly in love with your 36 year old bodyguard.

you had a student council meeting today, and was the last one to leave. toji fushiguro, your bodyguard (more like chauffeur) was waiting against the brick wall of your fancy pants school, cigarette in hand. he seemed to be texting someone, his mood irate.

“oh, y’er finally here.” he says in that rough voice you absolutely love. "took you long enough, brat.”

he pretends not to notice your skirt hitched up with your ass practically hanging out, or the two unbuttoned buttons on your thin white blouse that doesn’t do much to hide the lacy black bra you decided to wear.

it became a routine, before he picked you up, you’d unbutton your blouse a tiny bit and hike up your pleated skirt in the girls bathroom. maybe slather on some lip tint.

“i’m not a brat. and i told you i’d come out late.” you retort, skipping down the parking lot.

“unlock the car, oldie!” you yell, already reaching the expensive car he drives you around in. it’s yours, the porsche 911 carrera cabriolet, but why not let the handsome man drive it for you?

“tch.” he mumbles to himself, unlocking the car. "what a minx."

you were already nice and comfortable in the passenger seat when he got there, curled up on the fancy leather, your skirt riding up to your mid thighs. you were scrolling through whatever social media was popular, your headphones plugged into your ears.

what a typical high school girl.

he knows it’s wrong. he’s nearly twice your age, and you just turned nineteen, just a baby. and just because you’re the governors daughter doesn’t mean you were all prissy and proper, or sweet and innocent, you were quite the opposite.

even if your father paid a pretty penny to keep you out of trouble, a little extra cash from you was enough to keep him quiet. a man does what he has to do.

and unfortunately, your hedonistic lifestyle was gonna get your sweet father in trouble- and even worse, toji’s job at risk if he didn’t keep you under control.

“brat.” he leans over and snatches your headphones from the wire.

“toji!” you exclaim, irritated. “give them back, oldie!”

he rolls his eyes, throwing them in the backseat. “get them later. now shut y’er trap and listen to me.”

you grumble, falling back onto the seat. "i'm listening."

he takes a breath. "you know the election coming up, right?"

you furrow your brows. toji doesn't seem to be the political type. "yeah. papa's running for re-election."

his voice is low. "you need to keep a low profile. your father can't have anything tarnishing his reputation. especially his brazen brat. so, imma need you to follow my rules." his hand grips the steering wheel as he parks in an empty business lot.

"hey! i am not a brat!" you ripostes.

"oi. if your dad goes down, so do you, princess. i'd listen to me if i were you." he says, leaning in closer.

you scoff, crossing your arms. "fine. what?"

by crossing your arms, you slightly push up your lace clad bosom, easily seen through the sheer material of your white blouse.

his eyes flicker down.

like you didn't notice.

he rolls his eyes, looking back into the empty concrete lot. "y'er not going to go out for any party. y'er definitely not talking to any stranger. or any boys, for that matter. and you gonna have to start wearing something more..."

you grin. "more what?"

"more prudish." he grits, his eyes blazen. "can't have you prancin' around like that."

despite his tone, there's a hint of arousal in his voice, and he can feel the blood rushing right where he didn't want it to be. he clears his throat and tries again, "just follow those rules while i'm around, okay? it will make things easier for y'er daddy."

you roll your eyes, pulling your skirt down a bit and buttoning your blouse again. “just send me to a damn convent, then.”

toji grits his teeth at the girl's defiance. why does she have to be such a brat? and why did his dick twitch at the sight of her fixing her clothes? "don't be so stupid, girl. i'm just looking out for your safety, and if you don't cooperate, there will be consequences."

“consequences? like what?” you ask, your eyes wide and curious.

"like... being punished," he murmurs, barely audible. "if you disobey me or disrespect me in any way, i won't hesitate to discipline you."

you didn't realize how close toji had gotten to you, feeling his minty tobacco breath hit the side of your face.

there was an opening. and you took it.

"i wouldn't mind being punished.” you say with a sultry smile, giggling.

fuck.

she's right there, forbidden fruit, so very tempting.

he really shouldn’t, but he did.

"you wouldn't?" he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "well, you better be prepared for anything then." he grins.

he swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt. "get in the backseat. you wanna act like a slut, i'll treat you like one."

you're pushed into the back of your car, toji following you. without warning, he pulls you into his lap, so that you're straddling him. "toji!" you squeal, eyes wide open as you drink in the lecherous look in his eyes.

"toji-" you're abruptly cut off by his palm.

"didn't tell you to talk, now, did i?" his shit-eating grin was so infuriating, but also so enchanting. "you gotta listen to me, sweet girl. i don't want a single word out that damn mouth."

you narrow your eyes, but comply anyways.

"good girl." he smirks, sticking two fingers in your mouth. "suck."

you looked absolutely bewildered. “to-“

“suck.”

he sticks his two fingers in your mouth, going down your throat and causing you to gag.

that look in his eyes, it was so lewd. it just made you more turned on.

your tongue swirls around his digits. you look like you’re pouting by how your bottom lip sticks out, lips latched on his fingers.

he could hear your sinfully wet sounds as you suck on his fingers, soft whines escaping your lips.

he slides his fingers out of your mouth, a little wet pop! sound.

“do the same with my cock.” he demands, pushing you to the floor of the car.

you’re on your knees, silently thanking the gods for this opportunity. a true blessing in disguise.

“gladly, toji.” you grin, your head resting on his knee. your fingers ghost over the tent in his grey sweatpants, eyes never leaving his.

he looks like a mess, his pants practically bursting at the seams.

“i don’t have all day, sweetheart.” he warns, pulling at your hair. “no time for y’er dilly dallying.”

you sigh, wanting to tease him more. he spreads his legs a bit further, and you pull down his sweatpants, before palming the bulge in his boxers.

“damn, daddy.” you giggle, tracing the wet spot. “all of this for me?”

“jesus, girl, you can’t even follow orders?” he groans, grabbing at your wrists and forcefully makes you pull down his boxers. his dick sprung up, nearly hitting your nose. angry, veiny, girthy. the others you've hooked up with pales in comparison to the older man.

you've never been nervous. it was big, too big. "toji, that.. that's not gonna fit." you mumble meekly, staring at it.

"fuck, girl, i know you've taken dick before. don't tell me you're tappin' out so early." he leers. "use your hands if it's too much." he gets comfortable in the leather seat, yanking you closer to the tower he calls his dick.

"daddy. you're so mean." you whine, your breath hitting his tip. "its so hot." he isn't having your shit. he just grips your hair tighter, forcing your mouth open with his other hand. he only pushes your head down so that your lips clamp on his tip.

"urgh- to-" the wind is nearly knocked out of you as he shoves his fat dick further down your throat. it's so messy, tears prick your eyes and your saliva mixed with his pre-cum trickles down his cock, dripping down his balls. now was the absolute worse time to have a gag reflex, stomach heaving as you struggle to open your jaw to fit all of him.

"ahf, to-.." your moans are muffled by his cock, whimpers and whines reaching his ears as you find the energy to bob your head up and down.

"fuuck. good girl." his grip on your hair loosens, allowing you to catch your breath as your mouth unlatches from his dick.

"shit, oldie, what the fuck?!" you whine, coughing into your school blazer.

"just giving ya a break." he's kinda nice at times, wiping away your smeared mascara. "but i'm not nice all the time. you're sucking me off, girl."

you shoot him a glare. "just.. don't shove it directly down my throat."

he chuckles, caressing your cheek. "hurry on, sweet girl."

you whimper, but you abide grudgingly. your sloppy mouth takes him so well, he lets out a low groan of satisfaction at the way your teary eyes make eye contact with him.

"fuck, yes, sweetheart." his calloused hands guide your head up and down as the slick collects and drips down his base. "such a good fucking girl, yes, mmh.." he's merely using you as a cocksleeve now, your tongue swirling around his tip. your nails make half moon indents on his muscular thighs, your staggered breaths hitting his trimmed pubes. your obscene sounds play like music to the older man, your teary, coy eyes glassy as he fucks your throat.

you lick the vein on underside of his cock, bobbing your head up and down, giving yourself a break by also licking the skin on his balls.

using your nimble fingers, you toy with the base of his cock.

“ah, to-ji, please…!” you croak, as his hips piston once more into your awaiting mouth, cum brimming in the back of your throat. you have no choice but to swallow.

the way your teary countenance and cum-dripping lips look to him is delectable. he laughs, throwing his head back as he comfortingly pulls your hair back.

“good girl.” he grins as he sees you wipe the cum off your lips. “you’re getting better by the second.” his expression was so pestiferous- he enjoyed seeing you cough, he enjoyed how you cleared your throat since it was so hoarse. he liked seeing you fix your messy lip gloss, liked seeing you sniffle as you rest your temple on his knee, looking up at him like a darling little kitten. begging for more.

you had never felt so needy before. blowjobs were something you just gave to get a feel for how big a guy was. and if it wasn't to your standards, you left disappointed but he at least got something out of it.

"sweet girl." his fingers toyed with your hair, as if to apologize and comfort you for the rough treatment.

"toji." you whimper, bottom lip sticking out. "please.. i want it so badly."

"ask nicely." he demands, stroking a strand away from your face.

"...please can you fuck me?" you repeat.

"again. use my name."

you groan. he's really making you work for it. "fuck. fuck me, mister, please!" you shift uncomfortably, finally sitting back up on the seat. "toji, pleasee." you whine, straddling his lap again, hovering over his semi-hard cock, while kissing his cheek. "need you so badly."

he chuckles, hands sliding to grip your hips, letting you kiss down his neck. "ah, little minx. can't say no to such a sweet request, can i now?" he drawls, calloused hands sliding down your skirt to squeeze the meat of your ass.

"ah... 'es, toji.." you murmur, kissing his lips. it was your first with him. his lips were chapped in contrast to yours. you tasted like your berry lip oil and his cum at the same time, and he tasted like cigarettes. your head was tilted, your manicure digging into his shoulder as you ravished his lips.

"you taste good, sweetheart." he purrs, guiding you as he maneuvers your thong off of your body. "i'll be taking this, by the way." he whispers, placing a kiss on your neck, stuffing your panties into the pocket of his grey sweatpants.

"t-toji!" you peep, eyes wide in bewilderment. "g-give them back-"

"nah." he sits you down on his lap completely, the base of his now rock hard cock teasing your aching, sopping slit. "ride me, girl. wanna see you try."

your face was even more flustered, if that was even possible. "whatever you say, daddy." you feign your confidence, adjusting your position.

he slides off your white blouse, unlatching your bra. "pretty little tits. wonder who else saw these, hmm?" he teases, tongue teasing your peaks.

"ah- toji! fuck! n...not so sudden!" you instinctively arch your back, nails sinking into his chest covered by his compression shirt. he simply wraps his arms around your waist even tighter, virtually feasting on your perky breasts. "toji! fuck, not there..!" you squeak, noticing the salacious string of of love bites dissipated on your neck, collarbone, and under breasts.

"mm.. nah. i like marking up my girl." he mutters, taking in your nipple in between his teeth.

"ow!" you yelp, tugging on his hair instinctively. "that hurt."

"oh, 'm sorry, baby. won't happen again." his sleazy grin says otherwise.

"toji, ah... need more." you whimper, rocking your hips against his cock, wetting the base with your arousal. "want you in me so bad."

his eyes were dark hearing your pleas, his fingers gripping the meat of your ass. "damn, nasty girl, begging for it? might just give you what you want if you promise to be good."

"please, daddy." you groan, lifting your hips up to hover over his dick.

"so impatient..." he sighs, pressing a butterfly kiss to the back of your ear. "go ahead."

you perk up at his allowance, gently swirling the tip around your dripping arousal, flicking your clit with it. "ah.. fuck!" you cry in excitement, sinking onto his cock, so fast, and you didn't even do that much foreplay to be this wet.

"shit, y’er such a slut." toji groans, feeling you engulf him, you feel amazing. "juust like that, baby, good girl." he presses a wet kiss to your nipple. "ride me, i want to find out how quickly you can cum.”

"t-toji, shit." you croak, feeling the slightly uncomfortable stretch. "wait, please, one second..."

"poor baby." he croons in your ear, stroking your hair softly as you bury your head in his chest, trying to adjust. "too big for you?"

"mhm." your sweet voice comes out muffled, relishing his scent. "can we wait?" you mumble. “let me get used to you?”

he barks. “this ain’t for your comfort, darling. you need ta be taught a lesson here.” his eyes flash with a dangerous spark. “y’er lucky i like you a lil’ bit, letting you ride me and all.”

you whimper, feeling more relaxed after slowly rocking your hips. “ngh- it’s so deep, daddy-“ you groan, finally finding the strength to bounce on his dick. “shittt.” you cry, feebly moving faster to chase your high.

“such a good little slut, hm?” toji chuckles, kneading your ass. “tight pussy for such a loose girl. doin’ daddy so well."

“fuck, fuck, yes!!” you cry. “ah.. ngh- daddy, so good, mmh..”

your mind was hazy, focused on riding him with all the determination you got. you lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, moaning his name over and over again. "t-too good, daddy...!" you whine, chasing your high with all your might, legs cramping.

you felt toji's hands twitch at the side of your hips, granting you some leeway by meeting your thrusts halfway, legs spreading a bit further apart. god, how could he have resisted your temptations for so long? he was so infatuated with the way you cried out his name, kohl smeared around your eyes. the lewd cherry on top was the way your tits bounced in his face, as he fucked you senseless.

"harder, daddy, please...!" you claw at his shoulders, nearly ripping the slutty compression shirt.

and harder he went, his hips slamming into your ass, feeling the slick from your wet cunt stain the expensive leather. you felt the car lurch forward. he made the car bounce over and over again, every time he pounded into your perfect pussy.

"you like it, baby?" he asks you, lips latched to your breasts. "dirty girl- hah- likes my cock rough?"

"yes, yes, -ahh- dont stop, please!" your back arches like cat, relieving your leg cramp by your impending orgasm. the bastard made it so much better worse by thumbing your swollen clit, your legs freezing, rendering you helpless.

"you're so sexy like this." he chuckles, seeing you're letting him throw you around like a doll. "taking me like such a good girl, seemed you learned your lesson, hm?" toji pinches your nipple with his other hand, slowing down when you spray all over his thighs with a scream of his name, soaking his grey sweatpants. "fuck, oh my god. " you cry, your orgasm lasting a lifetime, clenching onto him. he relished in the obscene squelch, toji's coil in his stomach was gonna snap soon. the sound of your moans fills the small space of the car, and toji can feel the vibrations of your pleasure echoing through the metal frame.

"daddy-" you choke, "cum in me. p-lease." you whimper, desperate for him, all of him.

"dirty, dirty girl." he sneers, roughly grabbing at your waist to hit into you deeper. "want to be a mom at 19? slut." he groans, when you pick up the slack, slamming your ass down.

"mhh- 'm on the pill, just- ah! please..!" you gasp, when you feel him thrust once more, a harsh smack on your ass ringing.

"take- it." he grunts, feeling his vision blur as he empties his load into your awaiting, perfect pussy. you feel so much of it, so much it's trailing down your thighs.

"ah..! toji." you whisper, eyes wide.

"don't give me that look, you wanted it." he snaps, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "good girl." he adds, his tone slightly softer.

you don't say anything in return, opting to melt in his arms, feeling his cock soften inside you. "mmm."

he presses a kiss to your temple, "clean yourself up, brat."

you whine. "why am i back to brat?"

he rolls his eyes. "jesus fucking christ. clean up, princess. i need a smoke." he pulls out reluctantly, shamelessly grinning when he sees his cum drip down your thighs. you let him go, lending him a jacket to hide the wet spot you made on his pants.

he's standing outside, leaning on the dashboard as he's texting someone- your father, probably- taking a puff of his cigarette.

you dress again, fixing your skirt and retrieving your bra. you get out of the car, quiet footsteps approaching him, hugging him.

toji is startled when you suddenly appear beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him with that sickly sweet pout. he can feel her breath tickling his neck, and he takes another drag from his cigarette before looking down at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "princess," he says dryly, "what are you doing?"

he takes your silence as a hint to return your affection.

he puts an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and sharing some of his warmth as you two stand together under the setting sun. "we gotta go home soon, princess."

"don't wanna." you murmur.

"aw. c'mon, princess. y'er daddy's asking where we are." he shuts off his phone, putting it in his pocket.

"mm. okay. lets go home." you sigh.

toji takes one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it away and putting it out with his foot. Then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him and kissing you deeply on the lips. "parting gift?" he smirks.

you laugh. "whatever, daddy."

"let's go home now, sweet girl." he rolls his eyes, laughing as you pepper kisses over his face. "and remember..." he adds on, his voice a smooth murmur. "our little secret." he holds out his pinky.

"your little secret." you whisper, twisting pinkies into a small promise, unfolding for better or worse?

hii i was so lazy writing this (took me a whole damn month) (more like two) but i had to get this out i lobe bodyguard!toji so so so muchhhhh 🙁🙁 (not enough to not be lazy)

reminder that fiction is not reality and don't base off sexual relations w/ smut or p-rn. things are exaggerated and they are fantasies. just an fyi because i gen feel so icky when i write darker content (smut) and how it could impact people who read it... just make sure that there's always consent, you're vocal about boundaries, and you feel safe.

reblogs appreciated i love u guys 🤩

༝༚༝༚ indy

- cross posted on ao3- miniminari (linked if i actually posted it LMAO)

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wonusdoll · 8 months

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FLOWERS • PJS

Synopsis: Jisungs a hopeless romantic and gets jealous easily

Content: fluff! cavity inducing fluff so fluffy i wanna cry

pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Jisung x reader

notes+ WHY DOES NOBODY WRITE FOR JISUNGGGG i had to take matters into my own hands so here you go :D this was originally gonna contain smut but i couldnt help myself with the fluff anyways, enjoy!!

You and Jisung weren't always friends. When your mom introduced her best friends second grader son, 4th grade you didn't mind. Until he started playing with your stuff, jumping on your bed, stealing your snacks, and blaming you on things he did and getting you in trouble.

Naturally, you started resenting him, dreading when he would come over, and chose to ignore him at school, finding it embarrassing whenever he would go over to you and your friends at the playground and ask to play with them. your friends found him cute, but you, you hated him.

Going into your middle school years, he slowly got more tolerable. He started understanding boundaries but still was the same annoying little kid.

In some point of time, Jisung turned from an annoying little kid who yelled and cried all the time to one of your closest friends. And then when he finally started high school, you guys started hanging out willingly, without his mom forcing him to go over.

Some days you would catch him in your living room watching tv with your dog, or accidentally walking in on him showering in your bathroom, or in your kitchen making ramen. Sometimes he would bring his friends over to your house. You honestly didn't mind that much as long as they never broke anything, or disturbed her in any way, which jisung made sure never happened.

"Jisung?? That you??" You yelled from the top of the stairs after hearing feet shuffling and the front door opening and closing. The two of you made plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover to celebrate the new season of autumn.

"Nope!" Jisung yelled back, making you go downstairs with a grin. But you immediately furrowed your brows and bit your inner cheek, upon seeing 6 other people. you knew them, jisung would bring them around sometimes but you didn’t know them.

"Jisung, whats going on?"

He grinned annoyingly cutely back and held up some convenience store bags up and nodded towards his friends, "They wanted to hang out but my mom banned us from the house after last time.”

You scoff and look at him like he was crazy, "What- are you kidding me?" You say just above a whisper, flickering your eyes between him and the guys behind him, "I thought we were gonna hang out?? You didn't even ask if it was okay to bring them over? if you wanted to hang out with them instead you should've just told me."

With a smirk, jisung was much closer than you remember him being, he tucked a few stray strands of your hand back, "I'm sorry princess i should have asked, hm? If we're too much of a bother we'll quiet down okay?" He pulled away and looked into your eyes, pleading and begging for uou to say yes.

You mask your flustered state with a sigh and wiping your face with your hand as if annoyed.

"Fine, whatever, just— leave me alone im gonna go study" you warn making him grin and ruffle your hair, juxtaposing his previous act. He's called you princess numerous times before, even when you guys were kids but in that tone, that voice, and devilish smile, it felt different.

You wanted to tell him off for joking around with you like that, making you feel that way. It was something you always felt around him but maybe it was his perfectly messy hair, his oversized hoodie making him look so comfy, his soft plump lips, or his hand in your hair, or the name he called you, but the feeling became overwhelmingly strong, like when a candles been burning for hours and slowly the fire grows bigger and it fills the whole room with its pleasant fumes.

You hung around with them for a bit when you took a break from studying because you couldn't focus. but the reason you couldnt focus was sitting right across from you on the couch, sending lingering glances everybody noticed.

When he catches your gaze you turn away with a light blush but when you catch his, he doesnt shy away, keeping eye contact with you with a look in his eye that you couldnt read for the first time.

In the time you got to formally meet his best friends, you surprisingly got along with all of them. Huang Renjun was the one who stuck out the most out of the 7, other than Jisung who kept eyes on you the whole time.

You got to have a one on one conversation with Renjun about each others favorite music artists, which were quite similar, and art itself. You were already interested in art but with the knowledge and story telling Renjun excitedly provided made you want to learn more. So you guys planned a hang out the next day to an art museum Renjun was fond and familiar with.

You posted the day out with him on your story with Art Deco - Lana Del Rey in the background.

Jisung always made sure to heart and reply to your story even if it was as simple as an ootd, but this time he didn't. You furrowed your brows and looked at the views and there he was, also active. You tried texting him regularly but you were left on delivered until 7 hours later but all you got was a

"sorry lol"

It hurt your feelings, you couldn't lie. So you texted him again not even 5 seconds later.

"too busy being active to answer? lmfao"

He leaves it on read for a few minutes before replying

"too busy hanging out with renjun? yk we all made plans tgt”

You scoff at his attitude

"whats your problem?? it was HIS choice to hang out with ME. not like you wanted to."

"chill out i just wanted them to meet you, didn't know you were gonna be all over them tho"

"fuck you."

You threw your phone at the end of the bed and hug your pillow against your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know why you were so affected by his words, usually you wouldn't even press him so much about not answering, and would just leave him alone but seeing him be so uninterested left a mark on you.

A few nights later you were watching a scary movie in the darkness of your living room when you heard knocks on your front door. you paused the movie to make sure it wasn't from the tv, and when they come again, you look at the time.

"Who's here at 11:30 at night" You whisper to yourself and cautiously approach the door.

Thunder suddenly struck making you whimper and jump back, but you decide to just rip the bandaid off, after all horror movies aren't real right?

"Jisung?!" You exclaim, seeing him standing there out in the pouring rain with his head down ashamed.

"Hey.."

You quickly let him in, taking his soaked coat off and telling him to wait while you get a towel.

He was silent while you scolded him for being out in the rain so late without so much as an umbrella.

He finally brung his hands from behind his back, revealing your favorite flowers in an articulated assorted bouquet wrapped in paper.

"Sorry if they're kind of ruined.. I ran all the way here" He sniffles and scratched his nape awkwardly.

You bite your lip remembering your last interaction, "You wanna tell me why?"

"I'm sorry y/n im so sorry im such a fucking loser and a coward for getting mad at you I never wanted to hurt you i just was so angry that you hung out with Renjun that i took it out on you without thinking and ive been trying to figure out how to apologize to you so i went to the flower shop like 10 times in the past 2 days because i wanted to get you flowers but you have 5 different favorite flowers so i got 5 different bouquets for you then realized that was too much so i just got one with 2 of your favorites but felt bad that i left out the other 3 so i got another one with all of them but they didn't look good so i spent the whole day learning how to make a bouquet to make it perfect for you then realized it was already night and thundering and you hate thunder so i ran all the way here and now they look horrible and ugly and-"

"JISUNG." You put a stop to his rant with a chuckle and put your hands on his pink dusted cheeks. He pants out and looks in your eyes to find any anger or disgust in them but you were smiling, "Hey its okay, i promise its okay," You take the flowers from his hands and bring them up to your face to smell them, "they're beautiful ji, seriously."

He takes another pan over your face to scan your expression to really make sure you weren't mad and one he realized that, he lets out the breath he was holding and chuckles, then laughs a bit harder.

You laugh along with him then card your fingers through his wet hair, "Did you really learn how to make a bouquet of flowers for me? And run all the way here in the rain?" You ask, softly now.

He smiles and takes your hand away to hold it instead, "Yeah.. you know i would swim across the whole ocean just to get these to you. Also whats wrong with learning a new skill, i always wanted to learn how to.. make assorted flowers.." He dryly chuckles at the end.

you could hear your heart thumping out of your chest when you feel the pressure of his eyes staring into your own, as if trying to answer a question he hasn't asked. so you ask your own.

"Jisung," You start making him nod, "Why were you so upset?" You ask, making you swallow thickly.

and suddenly you're hyper aware of everything going on, your breathing, your blinking, the rain and thunder, his facial expressions, his thumb caressing your hand.

Jisung doesnt answer for a second, trying to find the right words. His mouth was drying up, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he gulped.

He was now holding your hand with both of his hands, "I love you." he blurted, "I love you and Im selfish and only want you to myself, I just wanted to treasure you for my myself and not let other people see how amazing and perfect you are because i was scared you'd fall for them and forget about me so when i saw you were with renjun and saw how excited you were to talk to him and hang out with him i felt.. rejected? in a way? like he had something i didn't to make you feel that way. So i was sad and upset and jealous— god, i was so unbelievably jealous, and i know im not allowed to because we're only best friends and you're allowed to be friends and talk to anybody you want to but i just- i just didn't want you to notice anyone else, and leave me.."

He ended his rant with a sigh and closed his eyes shut, mentally preparing for you to laugh in his face and friend-zone him, but it never came.

When he opened his eyes you were just standing there, not saying anything, with a smile on your face.

You giggled as he looked at you with an expectant look.

“Okay.”

His brows furrowed and his hand started slipping from yours “That- thats it? Just okay? You couldn’t have let me down any better-“

“Okay, I wont leave you.”

His expression softened, watching as you laughed and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, “Jisung park, I will never leave you and you can never leave me, if you do i’ll have to kill you.” You tried to threaten him but he just found you adorable, and picked you up in his arms.

You guys laughter filled the room, bouncing around the rooms, sounding almost louder than the rain and thunder.

Suddenly, your enemy turned into your bestfriend who turned into your lover. And you couldn’t have it any other way.

#park jisung fluff #park jisung fic #park jisung smut #nct fic #nct dream #nct dream jisung #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 #jisung park #jisung

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celestialbeing2 · 3 months

Note

hii! would you write headcanons for poseidon!reader and luke? <3

figuring you out

a child of poseidon!reader x luke castellan fanfic

warnings - not proofread

a/n - thank you for being my first request, anon! this is also my first official story so thanks for giving me a clear foundation to build off of. i hope you enjoy it!

backstory

arriving at camp half-blood wasn't easy. you arrived there with your protector covered in open cuts and you were physically weak. your mental state wasn't well either. suddenly finding out you're the child of a GOD is a tough pill to swallow. figuring out who that god was felt like an even bigger pill. your stay at camp was rocky the first few days. mr. d had a...interesting character. the ares kids were shockingly rowdy, and everyone found their place (with a few exceptions). you were like the odd one out.

that was until luke sat next to you for lunch for a day. it was awkward at first, but one day grew to nearly everyday. you two started to bond more outside of lunch. you two were always found laughing hysterically in your cabin, and physically close during activities. he also showed you around camp, even though you told him chiron already did. he was just happy to finally get to know you.

crush headcanons (before you are claimed)

during the crushing period, luke would most likely do little things for you. he would open doors for you, tie your laces before an activity, and always give you pointers during archery days. you thought he was dong it to be friendly, but the true reason was far off

similarly with percy, he would stick by your side as you tried to do every activity you could to get an idea as to who your godly parent was.

during a specific activity, if it didn't have an outcome you liked, you would always give you encouraging words to keep trying. he would never want to see you feel like you weren't good enough

during capture the flag, he would protect you from the red team whenever they got too close to you

he would also stay up with you at night, listening to whatever stories you have for him. whether they were funny, upsetting, or just random thoughts, he was very open to hearing your voice.

he would constantly ask you to sword fight with him, even if you couldn't move an inch from all of the other activities. he told you he wanted to build your strength and endurance. secretly he believed you looked attractive with sweat dripping down your neck and forehead.

================================================

once you finally found out that poseidon was your father, you were filled with joy. however, realizing you were at a higher risk of being killed by monsters turned your smile upside down.

crush headcanons (after you are claimed)

if you ever feel fear from the reality of you being claimed, luke was always open to being a shoulder you could cry on. he never stopped being eager to listen to what you had to say.

once he found out your assigning as well, he was happy for you. not because you were at a higher risk of death, but because you were finally claimed. he loved seeing a smile on your face, even if it was for a split second.

when you started to pack your stuff to move into your new cabin, he was a bit disappointed. he would miss the late night talks you guys would have. but that didn't stop him from hanging out with you.

he would push you even harder to "build your strength and endurance", but this time to actually benefit you, you needed it.

dating headcanons

luke would love holding your hand, lying in your lap, and resting his head on your shoulder. he just loved being physically close to you.

it took him a bit to tell say "i love you", but not because he wasn't sure if he loved you. he did. he just didn't want to face rejection

he would open up to you about his problems and insecurities, and thrive off of your support and advice. he would wait to speak about his trauma for when you guys are in a committed relationship because he wouldn't want you to think any less of him (we all know you wouldn't)

being a child of poseidon, he always complimented your ability to swim. he would throw little compliments your way on away occasion, even for the littlest things. he just loves giving and receiving praise.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #pjo series #pjo show #disney plus #headcanon #percy pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo x y/n

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little-emerald-snake · 28 days

Text

Getting Caught pt 4 Finale - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

I can’t believe you heathens have gobbles this little series up so frantically and kept enjoying every part I put out. I’m so grateful everyone likes it. That being said consider this a finale piece. I have so many branching ideas that I want to work on and therefore I feel I’ve written a good end for this little series. I hope you enjoy and thanks for hanging on for this little journey.

Warnings: a little fluff, losing virginity, awkward first time, mentions of blood, unprotected p-in-v, use of the word cervix (some of yall CANT get with that word so I added it here 😅)

1.4k words

Ominis paced the Undercroft. His head had been an absolute mess since their last meeting. All his life he’d never wanted to have sex with anyone, the fear of producing an heir or subjecting a woman to his family being far too much for his sanity.

But now all he could think about was what she felt like inside, how badly he wanted to take her sweet, soft innocence and make her cry out in pleasure while wrapped around him. How badly he wanted to hold her in his arms and drown in her incredible scent.

He’d thought about sex but never this much in his entire life. His thoughts as he laid in bed awake trying to sleep was what her possible reaction would be, would she also want it? What would become of them if they went farther, could he protect her from his family if they decided to court?

His head lifted when he heard the whirring clocks, he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back and listening to each echoing boot step as she came closer. “Ominis. I got your owl…”

He held out his hand, causing her to stop. “C-can I say what I have to say?” After a beat of silence and a small yes he continued. “I-I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you. Maybe it’s because we’ve suddenly become rather intimate…but…I find myself feeling a strong desire for you. One that can’t be quenched while alone in my bed at night.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the harsh hammering of his heart. “I…want to ask if you’d be open to courtship. I know my family is less than desirable to be associated with but I could keep it secret from them. We could just tell our close and trusted friends…or if you’re not okay with that maybe…it stays strictly physical and secret.”

He wished now more than ever to have sight, to see her face…her silence made his stomach tighten into harsh uncomfortable knots. But when she finally spoke he couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. “Ominis…I…you want to become physical?”

His cheeks reddened, a stutter marring his speech. “W-well I…y-yes I suppose. I-I-I mean I’d love to court you first but I…can’t stop thinking of whatever we've been doing together. I-I want more, however you’ll give it to me.”

She stepped closer to him, with each step his heart crashed against his ribcage, threatened to burst from his chest. To his surprise the pounding of his heart was the furthest thing from his mind as her hand caressed his cheek and soft lips met his.

He stayed absolutely still till she pressed deeper into the kiss, then his hands were in her hair, pulling her close as their kiss deepened. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, no urgency behind it, just raw emotions.

When the kiss broke they were both red cheeked and breathless. He was still holding her close, afraid that if he let her go she may dissolve into thin air.

She caressed his cheek again and he could hear her smile. “Ominis…I’d love to be yours. W-we can figure out how to manage your family as we go but I want this, us.”

Ominis swept her up into his arms and she giggled happily. He kissed her again, still holding her in his arms, maneuvering them deeper into the Undercroft. He sank to his knees and laid her on the pile of blankets, breaking the kiss. “D-do you want to go further?”

A small yes had him diving forward, lips crashing against hers. This kiss was a hungry, burning, all consuming wildfire that had her clawing at his chest, pulling him down against her.

He hovered above her, one hand awkwardly coming up to paw at the front of her shirt. A wave of heat pooled in his groin, sparking to life the need he harbored for her. She hummed softly which he took as a good sign, groping a bit harder and seeking her nipple through the fabric.

She breathlessly took his hand, helping him slide it up under her shirt and their kiss was broken as he moaned just from the feeling of her chemise. He was rock hard against her thigh, grinding himself greedily against her.

He pinched her nipple a bit harder than intended, causing her to yelp. He looked up sheepishly, apologizing before abandoning her breast and sliding his hand down to her skirt, hiking it up around her waist.

He groaned as his fingers met her wet center, dipping in to collect her wetness before rolling over her clit. She sagged against the blankets, moaning needily as he picked up speed.

Her back arched and Ominis pushed himself up as best as he could, still rubbing her as he attempted to free his aching erection one handed. He paused to rub a flattened palm over himself, desperate to soothe the urgency.

Once he’d accomplished freeing himself he was pushing against her, awkwardly leaning over her while trying to line himself up between her legs.

She tensed and he stopped, going back to rolling her sensitive bud under the pads of his fingers. “No rush darling, it’s okay. Sorry for my eagerness.”

She clutched his shirt, lifting her hips to chase the feeling he was giving her. She was gasping and moaning, writhing beneath him and if he didn’t know better he’d think she was about to cum.

His suspicion was confirmed when he nudged against her entrance again and she wriggled her hips against him, he could feel her spasming even just pressed against her entrance. His eager fingers sped up on her clit as a sob caught in her throat.

He pushed past the thin barrier of her virginity, turning her blissful sounds into a sharp cry. His attention was divided between the blissful heat he was slowly shoving into and petting her hair gently while cooing encouragements. “S-such a good girl. Gods, you feel so tight.”

She whimpered, pulling him closer which was his only sign to keep pushing into her almost too tight heat. His control waned when he lifted his hand to feel her face and caught a wet tear sliding over her cheek.

He tried to pull out and she shook her head, tugging at his shirt. “D-don’t stop. M’fine…please.”

He didn’t stop, instead focusing on rubbing her sensitive nub while lurching his hips forward inside of her. His thrusts were jerky and untimed but he still felt her clench around him and heard her whimper in pleasure.

A sick satisfaction and sense of pride took over him when he smelled the tang of blood and felt the slickness of it coating him. He shoved all the way inside, feeling her clenched tightly while he pulled out and shoved back in.

A choked moan escaped her throat and she clung tighter to him. They rocked together, finding a rhythm where he pulled out and pushed back in. He was much longer than she’d imagined so he bottomed out every time, causing a gasp when his tip kissed her cervix.

His elbows were planted on either side of her head as he rut into her, hips moving faster and more fervently. He grunted and groaned till finally he stilled and spilled inside of her, filling her up.

Her cheeks were red as she laid beneath him, embarrassed and shy after feeling him absolutely unload inside of her. He panted, adjusting so he could hold her face. “M’fuck I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Don’t worry, won’t stop till you’re done too.”

She couldn’t believe he was still hard, his hand moved down to rub her clit again and his thrusts resumed, gentle and calculated. It wasn’t long before her moans and arching back indicated she was close. He felt her body language and soon she was clutching onto him, whimpering and begging. “G-gonna…m’gonna cum! Ominis!”

She did, clenching around him, she exploded in blissful orgasmic pleasure. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm as she whimpered and pleaded through her orgasm as it tore through her.

He held her, staying buried inside of her as he soothed her and caressed her. Petting her hair and praising her. “You’re so incredible. This is perfect. Gods I can’t believe your mine. All mine.”

She blushed, relaxing in his touch as he held her, basking in his warmth and soothing touch, taking in the fact that this all started with her catching him in the act down in this exact spot.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt smut #little emerald snake

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wh0relibrarian · 4 months

Text

sunshine

a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(

context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...

content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot

word count: 3.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.

And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.

But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.

You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?

Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?

You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.

Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.

You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.

Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?

You: Don’t make fun of me 😑

Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.

You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.

He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.

“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”

“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”

“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”

Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.

The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.

But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.

When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.

“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.

“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”

You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.

Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”

It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.

So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)

A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.

After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.

There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.

As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”

You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.

The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.

“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.

“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”

“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, you know.”

“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”

“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”

You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”

You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.

Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.

“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”

And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”

“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.

His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.

“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”

“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”

Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.

“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.

“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”

“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”

The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.

“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”

“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.

“Doin’ so good babydoll.”

“Look at you takin’ me so well.

Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.

You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.

He gripped and slapped your ass hard.

“Gotta do better than that baby.”

Smack

“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”

Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”

“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.

“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.

“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”

“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”

“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.

Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.

“Fuck daddy right there!”

“Here sweetheart? You like this?”

“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.

“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”

When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”

Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”

“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”

“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”

“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.

“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”

“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”

Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.

How were you supposed to leave after this?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!

tags: @aiyaaayei

#📕 my books #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #x black fem reader #jjk men #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #had so much fun with this #need more #but it took me a solid 24 hours #off and on #😭😭

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