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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months

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Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?”

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents.

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult.

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there.

See, Joel. I’m responsible.

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump.

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.”

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.”

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head.

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?”

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.”

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway.

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door.

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel.

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!”

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved.

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes.

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen.

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again.

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?”

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job.

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber.

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire.

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster.

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens.

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan.

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly.

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?”

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.”

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?”

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too.

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.”

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt.

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now.

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!”

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest.

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again.

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.”

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good.

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.”

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.”

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode.

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up.

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.”

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself.

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.”

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air.

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice.

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly.

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh.

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy.

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth.

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?”

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now.

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?”

“Mm-hmm”

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.”

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mjolnirswriststrap · 2 months

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Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

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apocalypseornaw · 17 days

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Fantasies

Dean Winchester x Reader

You start having dreams about the eldest Winchester which puts a strain on your friendship

You groaned lightly from the tightness in your side, it was decorated vibrant shades of purple from the last hunt. All of you were currently sticking to the bunker and licking your physical or mental wounds until the next case called.

You walked out of your room trying to decide if you wanted to go in search of coffee or just wander through the stacks in the library. Sleep wouldn't find you and your mind wouldn't allow you to simply lay in bed.

You ended up deciding on a bottle of water before going in search of a book to busy your mind until maybe exhaustion would win out. You walked quietly into the library and was surprised to find you weren't the only occupant of the bunker still up.

Dean sat at the table, an open lore book in front of him but you could tell from the look in his eyes his mind was on anything but the book. "Dean?" You called and he startled slightly which honestly shocked you. No one snuck up on Dean.

He smiled when his eyes landed on you "What are you doing up sweetheart? You got pretty banged up" you rolled your eyes despite the smile slipping onto your face. Of course he was worried about your side when Sam had to put his left shoulder back into place. "I'm fine Dean. Are you ok?"

He nodded then stopped "No, I'm not. Can we talk?" You laughed lightly "We're talking now Winchester" he narrowed his eyes at you so you grinned "Sorry" then walked over to sit next to him but instead he grabbed your hand at the last moment and directed you to the table in front of him.

It wasn't unusual for any of you to end up sitting on the table during a rundown of a hunt but that was when it was all three of you and you were fully dressed. Now you were wearing the long tshirt you'd worn to bed and a pair of boys boyshorts that barely covered everything. You sat down in front of Dean and pressed your legs together, pulling the shirt down "What's wrong Dean?"

He leaned forward, tentatively putting one hand on your bare leg "You" "Me?" You asked and he nodded "Jody may have let somethings slip to me" you felt your face warm, why would she do that? You'd told her in confidence. "I know you don't feel the same about me Dean" you barely whispered, keeping your eyes down on your lap.

He leaned forward to catch your face in one of his hands, forcing your eyes to meet his "How do you know I don't? How do you know if you're not the only thing ever on my mind? How I hate you wearing this damn outfit to bed because if I ever catch Sam looking I'm gonna knock his head off. How I'd give anything to bend you over this table and show you just how much I feel the same about you"

By that time he'd moved from his chair to be standing between your legs, one hand holding your face while the other was still on your leg. You could feel your heart in your throat when you saw the hunger in those gorgeous green eyes that was watching your every move. "Show me" you whispered and a grin worked its way onto his face. He caught your lips in a bruising kiss as you felt his hand slid up your leg to your inner thigh. When his fingers brushed over your clothed core you moaned lightly and he smirked against your lips "Damn that's a beautiful sound"

He slipped one finger under the shorts and groaned when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. He plunged two fingers into you and your hips bucked up towards him. His eyes went from your face down to watch as he fucked you with his fingers "So damn pretty,coming apart on my fingers. Can't wait to feel that little pussy stretched around me"

He caught your lips again, slowly exploring your mouth with his own as he worked you closer to that edge. The moment his fingers grazed that spot inside of you, you clenched hard around his fingers and he moaned "Fuck, baby I'm trying to take this slow but you're making it hard"

You pulled back from the kiss just long enough to slip your shirt over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up "Take it slow later Dean but for now please just fuck me like you want me" He closed his eyes just for a second but you could see his jaw clench tightly. When he opened his eyes they were a darker shade of green and fuck his voice sounded deeper than usual when he said "Yes ma'am"

"WAKE UP SLEEPING BEAUTY. WE GOT A CASE" Dean's voice booming through your bedroom door jolted you awake. Your heart was pounding wildly and you were fairly certain your panties were soaked. Fuck. These dreams about Dean had started months ago, they had been sporadic at best but now it was beginning to be a reoccurring thing. How the hell could you keep living in close quarters, hunting side by side when the one thing you wanted from him you knew you couldn't have?

Reality

#Dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

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chamomiletealeaf · 1 month

Note

okay i saw your tall thick girl post and i gotta ask now… how do we think the 141 men would react to a girl with a tummy / hip dips ? and when she’s insecure about it.

RAHHH YES

As a girl with a tummy and hipdips so deep there are men with rounder hips than me, I love this idea

The way I wrote Johnny's has ME BLUSHING MY GOD I NEED HIM

warnings: afab! fem reader, insecurities, body worship, suggestive themes, reader has a belly piercing for Gaz's blurb, MDNI

Price can not keep his hands off you. Especially if you wear a tight fitted dress. So when he catches you pulling every tight fitted piece of clothing you own out of your closet he's confused.

"Lovie what's all this?" He asks, watching you throw your clothes out your closet.

"I'm getting rid of them." You say, face hidden from him so he can't see the tears well in your eyes.

He goes to pick up a blue baby doll slip dress you loved wearing on special occasions and holds it out to look at it.

"Even this one hun'? You love this one. It looks so cute on you." He says, genuinely confused why all of a sudden you hated the clothes you seemed to love wearing.

You turn around and snatch it from him angrily and throw it back on the floor.

"Yeah well I don't love it anymore." You say, turning back around to continue pulling your clothes off the hangers.

Price cautiously walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Honey. What's the matter?" He gently whispers in your ear.

You stop your movements and close your eyes, biting your lip to try and stop the tears from falling.

You hang your head and let out a quiet sob which causes him to turn you around and wrap his arms around you.

"Hey, c'mon it's ok. What's all this about sweetheart? Talk to me please." He says and lifts your chin up to look at him. "Why are you cryin' sweets?"

You sniffle and try to talk between sobs.

"I- I just wish I looked different. None of these clothes look good on me. If I was skinnier or had fuller hips, or-" You ramble while crying but Price cuts you off.

"Oh honey. Sweetheart." He says and wipes your tears then kisses your forehead. "I don't see what you see. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. What got this stupid idea that you're not pretty enough in your little head hm?" He asks, still holding you like you'd fall out of his reach.

"I just- why do you even like me? All those girls in those catalogues I have look nothing like me." You say, refusing to look him in the eye.

"What? Why would I want anyone else? Who cares about the catalogue girls they're not you?" He questions.

"My tummy, and my hip dips, and-"

"Lemme stop you right there." He says, and drops to his knees.

"Listen love. I don't know why you think you're not the most beautiful woman in the world, so let me help set it straight hm?" He says, leaning his head on your thigh.

"John." You whisper, tears still falling.

"Uh-uh, unless the next words out of your mouth are about how perfect you are I don't wanna hear them." He says while placing a kiss to your thigh.

He runs his hands up your thighs to rest on your hips under your pajama shorts you're wearing.

"You. Are perfect." He says between kisses up your legs. He leaves his hands on your hips and goes to leave a little bite on your hip bone.

"And your hips are perfect too. I don't know why you hate them so much darling. The way they dip in right here is so fucking sexy. Looks so damn good when you wear that cute little fitted skirt with it. Really shows them off. Can't help but squeeze your hips when I see them." He says, moving his kisses right where your hips dimple in on both sides.

Then he moves his hands up from your hips to your soft tummy from under your shorts, keeping his wrists pinned to you. He moves his mouth from your hips to your tummy where he leaves little bites and kisses.

"And this cute little tummy my god." He says with a squeeze making you whimper.

"John stop." You say, trying to push his head away from embarrassment.

"No." He says like you offended him. "I said I was gonna show you just how perfect you actually are so that's what I'm gonna do whether you like it or not."

He sucks a mark onto your tummy making you whine from the tickling sensation of his tongue and beard on your delicate skin.

"You know, that babydoll dress is my favorite too. Shows off your tummy so nicely. Just wanna squeeze you when you wear it. And these shorts. You know how I feel about you in low waisted pants lovie. You always look so soft." His hands are still gripping and kneading your hips from under your shorts and his mouth is kissing and sucking on every part of your skin he can reach around your hips and tummy.

"John please. Tickles." You say with a giggle this time.

"Ah there it is. That pretty smile." He says

"Why don't you let me show you what other parts of you I love as well darling, if you know what I mean." He says with a mischievous grin looking up at you from on his knees, and how could you ever say no to him?

Gaz sees you in a cropped tank top and low waisted pajama pants which shows off your belly piercing and he stares at you like a deer in headlights. You walk past him in the kitchen to make yourself some tea or something and Gaz just... Watches....

"What?" You ask, looking at him with your mug while you wait for the water to heat up.

"Nothing you just..." Gaz starts, "You just look really cute."

"I'm just wearing pajamas." You say, eyebrows furrowed, wondering what could be so cute about you right now.

Gaz takes a step closer and holds your face in his hands.

"Yeah, pajamas that look really cute on you. You always look cute." He says before kissing your lips.

His hands run down your body over your ass which he squeezes, making you yelp. Then his hand comes around to play with your belly piercing.

"You know this little piercing you got is so fucking sexy." He says with a smirk.

"Yeah? I almost didn't get it because, well, my tummy." You say embarrassed.

"What? Uh, hello, that's all more the reason to get one sweetheart. Tummies are cute. Especially yours." He says that last part into your ear while his hands travel up from your ass to grab at your hips.

You giggle, but pull away to pull down your tank top and pull your pajama pants up so they hide your tummy. Gaz catches on and grabs your wrists to stop your movements, and he puts your shirt and pants back in place.

"No. Keep 'em there. Don't get all shy now honey." He says. "Now turn around and lemme see that cute lil' ass and those sexy hips while you make your tea."

Simon noticed you had hip dips when he first saw you out of your cargos while at a formal and he could not stop staring at them. And the way you walked in that long cocktail gown that accentuated the dips in your hips made him instantly hard. He imagined how cute and delicate they would look while he pounded you from behind, making perfect handles for him, and he wondered if you had back dimples too where he could put his thumbs while his hands grabbed your hip dips. He also noticed the way the dress stretched over your tummy, showing your pudge. He could tell you were wearing a girdle or something, but he wished you would have just let your tummy out fully. He thought it was the cutest thing and made you look like Aphrodite. And he knew he had to make you his.

"What are you doin' lovie." He asks, seeing you standing in your full body mirror in your shared bedroom in some new underwear you bought. "Oh. Are those new?" He asks with a smirk, noticing you're just in your new panties you're modeling for yourself and a t shirt.

"I like those. The color is sexy on you." He says, coming up behind you grabbing your ass while resting his head on your shoulder.

"Hm. I don't know. I don't have the body to pull this type of cut off." You say ashamedly.

"What? What do you mean? They look fuckin' amazing on you." He says as he turns you around so you're facing him.

"I don't know, it's not very flattering on me. It's low waisted so it shows my tummy and the band shows off my hip dips." You say, looking down and tugging at the underwear.

"Sweetheart. You just described the best parts about these panties." He says with a smirk as he goes to hold your face with his hand, running a thumb over your lips.

"You can be honest Simon. You don't have to lie. I already know it looks bad." You say, and Simon gets visibly upset.

He steps back a few steps to sit down on the bed and he reaches his hands out to grab you by the hips so you come with him. He tugs so you're standing in between his legs looking down at him.

"Turn around." He says sternly, and you do what he says, turning back around to face the mirror again.

Simon peeks his head out around you and presses his face into your side while his hands grab your thighs.

"Look at yourself bunny. You see this perfect fuckin' woman in the mirror? That's you. And this perfect, gorgeous body is yours too." He says, then he plants a kiss on your hip.

"Go on sweetheart. Say it. Say you're perfect." Simon demands, kneading your thighs and hips while leaving kisses all over your thick waist.

"I'm perfect." You mumble, embarrassed at the words.

"Louder." He says, before he goes to bite at the band of the pretty new panties you bought, pulling it back with his teeth and letting it go, snapping it back in place against your skin, making you jump.

"I- I'm perfect." You say louder, and Simon smiles.

"Good. Now get up here on the bed. Gonna fuck you through these cheeky little panties to show you just how perfect I think you are now."

Johnny actually has no shame. You and him are put together for a mission and the safe house you had was actually super nice. Some air bnb in the woods with a hot tub, so you brought a little bikini just incase you had any time to actually stay at the house. And besides, it was just Johnny there, so who cares?

Johnny did. Johnny cared very much.

You got one full night in the house since you and Johnny finished the mission earlier than expected. Yeah, you guys were just good like that, so you decided to celebrate with drinks and the hot tub you've both been dying to get in.

Johnny is already out there with a beer and you approach him wrapped in a towel with your drink in hand.

"Mind if I join you Sergeant?" You ask playfully.

"Not at all lass. Water's fine." He smiles.

You were trying to figure out how to get into the tub without taking the towel off long enough where Johnny could see your body, but there was really no way to do that. You were self conscious, and what if he didn't like what he saw? But you knew the only way to get in without wetting the towel, was to just take the towel off before stepping in. So that's what you did.

You placed your drink down on the little table by the tub and quickly took the towel off, crossing your arms over your body to hide as much as you could. Johnny noticed and felt bad you felt uncomfortable. After all, he did love what he saw. But Johnny was Johnny, and he stared anyway.

You unwrapped your arms from over your body to step into the tub and you stood on the ledge in it, water coming up right above your knees giving Johnny a full view of your whole body.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body and notices the softness of your body, especially the curvature of your hips and how they dipped in at one point.

cute he thought as he went to take a swig of his beer, eyes never leaving your body.

He also took note of the cute roll of your tummy when you bent down to sit and it made him grin around the beer bottle opening. You were adorable.

"Well fuck me lass. didn't know you had all that under that tac gear." He said with a smirk, and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

Johnny always flirted like this, so this was nothing new.

"Oh shut up Johnny." You said with an embarrassed laugh and turned around to reach for your drink. You couldn't reach it, so you had to climb out the hot tub a little bit more, notching your hips on the edge of the tub as you bent over to reach for your drink, giving Johnny the perfect view of your ass, the dips of your hips, and the mound of your covered pussy, which made Johnny's cock twitch in his swim shorts.

You and Johnny always had this unspoken thing, so it wasn't abnormal for this tension to be here. It was just heavier than normal tonight.

You grabbed your drink and sat back into the tub, moving a little closer to Johnny.

"You can come closer bonnie, I don't bite." He says moving up right next to you to lean into your ear to say:

"Unless you want me to." He whispers, making you shiver.

That night ended with Johnny fucking you over the edge of the hot tub, his face buried between your thighs from the same position, and multiple missed phone calls from Price.

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bratphilia · 6 months

Text

his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #steve raglan #william afton #william afton x reader

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rillian4e · 7 months

Text

Scaramouche x f!reader

cw: nsfw, modern au, dom!scaramouche, sub!reader, fem!reader, pet names, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, foul language, teasing, spanking etc...

summary: your annoying roommate Scaramouche is done with your little antics, and decides to teach you a little lesson.

a/n: This was a request sent as a submission which is why I can't include anon, hope you enjoy

your roommate Scaramouche has been getting on your nerves, constantly ignoring you when you tell him to do something, and never talking to you without swearing or calling you names. it was really too much for you—who was he to act like that? instead of confronting him and communicating, you set yourself on a plan to tease him relentlessly, maybe then he would regret being such a jerk.

but of course, nothing ever goes according to the plan perfectly. it was finally the day to set your plan to motion, purposely wearing a short mini skirt with a cute pink top, you knew Scaramouche would now be in his room gaming, so you went ahead and made some snacks for him to enjoy, you knocked on the door and entered when you heard "I'm busy, leave." ignoring the way he glared at you when you entered anyway, you went and placed the tray of snacks on his desk, you knew just how much he loved those snacks paired with his favorite bitter tea. "Did you get hit in the head or something?" at his question, you shook your head, smiling "Of course not, I simply thought it'd be nice to do something for my roommate." Scaramouche did not believe that, eyeing you suspiciously before turning to his game, mumbling a quick "whatever", it was a success, that was after all the needed step before the main part.

you then started doing even more sweet things for him, wearing pretty outfits and being affectionate as if you two didn't argue every single day before. Scaramouche caught on and asked you where you were going, "Have you found yourself some stupid boyfriend? You've been getting all dolled up recently, it's annoying." he exclaimed, looking at you who just smiled sweetly, avoiding the question.

The next stage was the most impossible, 'accidentally' having your things drop on the floor as you bent over to pick them up in front of your roommate, getting out of the shower while only having a towel around your body, and wearing revealing outfits. only an idiot wouldn't catch on that, Scaramouche was well aware of your little antics, he could hear you touching yourself in your room, the thin walls not helping the sounds travel to his room. the last straw for him was when you asked him to fetch your towel which you just so happened to have 'forgotten', instead of simply giving it to you, he pinned you to the wall in the bathroom, embarrassed that you were now naked—infront of your roommate who you absolutely hated, you tried to break free of his grip which only lead to him tightening his grip on your hands. "What are you trying to do, slut? Think I haven't got a clue on what you've been doing, hm?" he asked, looking down at you before he went in for a kiss which caught you off guard.

"Is this what you wanted? Want me to fuck you like the whore you are?" you felt flustered at his words, feeling aroused by the situation, a moan escaping your lips when you felt his knee pressed in-between your legs, he wasted no time in putting you on the nearest surface, forcefully spreading your legs apart, as he kneeled, holding your thighs, a smirk forming on his face at the sight of your dripping core. "Looks like someone was waiting for this, huh?" he asked, giving your cunt a spank which made you cry out.

before you could react, his tongue was inside your pussy, occasionally sucking on your puffy clit and giving it slaps when you tried closing your legs, he didn't care about how embarassed you were, diving his tongue inside your tight hole. "...fuck, you taste so good...", his cock was already aching hard, wanting your tight walls wrapped around his length, but before that he was going to make you beg.

as you were close to cumming all over his tongue, his movements stopped, "Wh‐ w-why did you stop?" you asked, confused as you looked at him, he seemed amused, not even hiding his grin, "Only good girls get to cum, not naughty slutty girls like you." was all he said, you could tell what his intention was, you frowned but gathered all your courage as you gazed down at him. "Scara...p-please...I really need it, s' badly... I'll do anything! Jus' please let me cum, I'll be a good girl...!" you tried your best convincing him, surprisingly he was satisfied with that, his tongue continuing to bring you to your climax. however, he didn't give you any time to calm down from your orgasm, instead pinning you on the counter, and freeing his shorts before plunginginh his cock deep inside your cunt, "Ha...so tight..." he groaned, pressing his face into your neck, his length stretched you out in two, something you haven't felt in so long, "Look at you, your hole is clenching around me, are you that happy that you finally got what you wanted?" He asked, chuckling lowly as he saw your expression, his rough and fast pace not changing even when tears formed in your eyes—Scaramouche was delighted at the feeling of your pussy being so warm, so wet and so, so tight, he's regretting that he didn't fuck you sooner. "Mmh... maybe I should have just done this earlier, yeah? Bet you dreamed of your roommate fucking your hole like this, if not, why else would I hear you moan and touch yourself when you know I'm just next room to you?" you couldn't respond to him, too dumb on his cock to form a sentence, you felt yourself cum on his cock, what irked you was that Scaramouche didn't bother slowing down his pace, instead only rutting with more force into your overestimulated cunt. "s' t-too much!" you cried out, looking at him for some sympathy but only earning a slap to your clit, "Shut up, you're gonna take it like a good fucktoy, like the big girl you are."

you were powerless to resist, only getting more turned on at his degrading words, gosh, you loved it when he was being mean to you. Maybe it wasn't so bad to have him as a roommate? you pondered the question, was it really that bad when he could fuck you so nicely, fill your womb full of his cum?

#genshin smut #genshin impact imagine #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact smut #genshin wanderer #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #genshin x reader

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shcyc · 2 years

Text

¡ LOCKER ROOM — kinktober

MY READMORE IS NOT WORKING I AM SO SORRY

synopsis: locker room sex with msby / schweiden adlers

cw; sub fem! reader, voyeurism!, oral (giving & receiving), fingering, cockwarming, shower sex, vibrator, slight bondage, thigh riding

— MSBY !

> ATSUMU swears he’s never felt better — he wasn’t expecting you to get on your knees between his legs when you said you have a nice surprise for him right after practice!

his breath hitches as you kiss him through his pants, fingers inching up his thighs, leaving the trail you touched hot and burning with desire

this isn't the first time you've sucked him off, and yet it still feels like he's ascending to heaven every single time - probably also because the two of you are openly exposed in the middle of the msby locker room, and that has his adrenaline skyrocketing

> BOKUTO has his thick fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, skirt flipped upwards and tucked into the bands to stop them from obstructing him from what he wants

he’s annoyed that you’re wearing such a short skirt and prancing around his teammates as if it was a free show for all of them, when in fact, it should only be for him

he’s rough, fingers abusing your hole while his other hand wraps around your bare chest, pushing a handful into his mouth, tongue swirling around your perked nipples

> HINATA was the most innocent guy you’ve ever met, never would you have thought you’d be in this position — hands supporting yourself on the sink with your soiled panties stuffed in your mouth, pretty face stained with tears as you stare at the orange-headed man pound into you from the mirror in the msby locker room

he’s told you to “keep it down”, but how could you when he’s stretching you out so fucking good, thick cock grazing every inch of your gummy walls

you tighten around him each time he slips out and pushes back into you, eyelids fluttering with each push and pull, and that has him going even harder than before

> INUNAKI shoves his tongue past your tight ring of muscle, hands roaming all over your body, finally resting on your thigh that has been dangling on his shoulder for the past few minutes

he groans at your taste, at how deliciously sweet you are, and how you’re willing to let him do it right outside the locker room door where his teammates could easily walk out and catch the two of you

the vibrations from him passes right into your core and towards your clit, sending you over the edge after being teased for so long, and you watch as he removes himself from you with that stupid smirk plastered on his face

> MEIAN has you wrapped around him like a koala as he walks around the locker room to do final clean and checks before he closes the gym — only every step he takes has you clenching around him like a vice and he has to warn you to be a “good girl”

you think you might pass out from just cockwarming him, having him buried in you for too long makes everything go numb, and when that happens, everything is much more sensitive

he walks around and does his chores without a care in the world, but you whimpering into his ear and begging him to “just fuck me”, has him putting away the towels and shoving you onto the benches before slamming into your over sensitive hole

> SAKUSA hates the locker room, it’s full of germs and bacteria that he would not want to be exposed to, but when you come running to him asking if you could shower in the locker rooms because you got drenched in the rain, that has his mind reeling

he’s pressing the shower head onto your clit, making sure the water is hitting directly at the sweet spots before turning up the water power — and almost immediately, you feel your orgasm approach

your legs are shaking as you cum, body limp against him, his broad frame making sure you won’t fall to the ground during your high — and sakusa thinks that he has to see this beautiful sight one more time, even if it means staying with the germs for a few more minutes

— SCHWEIDEN ADLERS !

> HOSHIUMI can be either vicious or nice, and today, he’s feeling vicious! your boyfriend wants to see you stuttering, panting and begging him to stop the little machine buzzing inside of you

but how could he? not when your grip on his arm tightens while you try your best to make conversation with his dense teammates — he thinks that you’re so cute, holding onto him like your life depends on it

he laughs when you drag him out the locker room with all your strength, finally falling on the ground as he squats down to tease you, pushing the level up so that you cum around his toy!

> KAGEYAMA didn’t know he would be into bondage, especially not in the locker rooms, but when you show him the trick that you’ve been trying for a while now, his heartbeat races

he has you pressed up against the metal closets, making you support yourself on your elbows as he pushes himself into you — the warmth engulfing him, and he swears he will cum right now if it wasn’t for his need to see you struggling to release yourself

you’re clawing at the cool solid, desperately needing to grab ahold of something to ground yourself from his harsh fucking, you’re flipped around in and instant, one leg now wrapped around his waist as he groans into your neck at how good you feel

> USHIJIMA he’s so stoic and dense all the time so you thought you’d tease him! sitting on his thigh as you press kisses onto his neck, hoping that he’d break character for once and do something scandalous with you in a risky place

and you got what you wanted! he’s pushing your hips back and forth on his lap, his mouth now on your neck, teeth grazing your skin occasionally to give you love bites

you’re a whimpering mess at this point, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself as you let the overwhelming sensation take over, giving up on trying to hide the noises at this point

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fariesoiree · 5 months

Text

minors mdni

hobie is always down to help you study.

it starts on a wednesday night. you’re both lazing around in your apartment. candles are the main source of light and the smell of lemon zest wafts through the walls. tyler the creator’s dogtooth is lulling through your kuromi speaker.

it’s hobie’s choice. you both knew you’d be too focused to fiddle around with the music. if given a choice, you will turn into a two hour doom scrolling session of funny videos and cute cats anyway.

you’re lying on your stomach, neck deep in your pink ipad. hobie lays behind your with your feet on his chest. he absentmindedly runs his fingers along your calves. occasionally, his fingers dig into the muscle and provide you with temporary relief.

he catches up on his usual forums, criticizing the government and the rich. it’s bit ironic, he knows, to be so deeply in love with you but hate where you come from. his morals go out the window with you, though. especially when you turn and look at him with a sad brown eyes and a grimace. all he wants to do is remove hardship from you life, forever.

unfortunately, he has to be realistic and there is only so much he can do. “what?” his hands rub over the balls of your feet, covered in frilly white socks.

you’re always complaining you’re cold, despite never actually getting up to change the temperature and wearing the thinnest layers of clothes. today is no different. you’re wearing a flowy white tank top with matching shorts. he tells you it reminds him of a paper bag. you tell him to shut up.

“i don’t wanna do this anymore.” your cheek drops to your bed amid your complaining. your brain is fried with all the unnecessary reading you’re being forced to do. what you thought was supposed to be a quick little study session turned into hours of you curating a study guide for this unit.

hobie stopped by a while ago, bringing takeout with him. he originally came when you both thought you’d be finished soon but seeing how you weren’t, he stays by your side to keep you company.

“then don’t.” he shrugs. he’s not being helpful, he’s aware, but he never went to college and he doesn’t plan on it. like he will ever spend years at a government institution and follow their rules just to get a piece of paper. “ ‘s all a scam, anyway. meant to keep the average person down and pump ‘em right out to capitalism.” he looks up from his screen, his apologetic smile all mocking and sarcastic. “not that you would know anythin’ ‘bout that. basically invented it yourself.”

you narrow your gaze and huff when you turn away. “you’re so annoying.” if he didn’t have a hold of your leg, you definitely would have kicked him in his jaw. “not everyone got bit by a radioactive spider and is in a band.” you grumble into the palm of your hand.

at this, hobie is scoffing. he sits up, pushing your legs onto his lap. you can feel his finger between your shoulders and can only guess he’s pointing at you. “be serious, love. when’s the last time you spent your own money?”

“that’s not what we’re talking about!” you whine, both to evade his question and display the distress currently ruining your day. “i’m tired of this. just wanna download it into my brain.”

the screen of your ipad goes dim, as if on purpose. it’s reminding you of the control is has on you when you tap it to pull it out of sleep mode. you much rather would like to chuck it across the room but then you’d have to buy a new one. not only does that entail spending money you didn’t want to spend but also an earful from your boyfriend about how wasteful you are. about how you’re fueling the fucked up ethics surrounding consumers and producers.

you didn’t want to experience either.

“okay, okay.” hobie’s pointing finger is eventually replaced by his hands. they engulf your shoulders but press and roll them till you’re no longer as tense. “tell me how i can help.” he peers over your side to get insight on your progress. all he sees in a bunch of words, having no concept of what you’re studying. he’s willing to help, though, how ever you’ll have him.

you shake your head with a drawn out sigh. at this point, you need a break. maybe it would be better to come back with a fresh mind and clean slate. “you can’t. i’m just not gonna finish ever.” you snap the apple pencil back in its case and flip the cover over the top.

you officially give up, pushing the tablet away from you. your body flops on top of your mattress and your eyes flutter closed. what else are you to do than take a nap and hope your study guide studies itself. “jus’ won’t do it.”

hobie rolls you over by your waist. you didn’t protest and he likes that. it’s so easy for you to snowball and begin to complain about everything. he lets you, knowing you’re just expressing your frustrations but he can’t deny that he still likes to prevent it when he can.

“you been buggin’ me all week about how you need to pass this test. you’re not going to not do it.”

you feel the mattress dip from his weight when he leans to pluck your ipad up from above you. you gripe and grouse loud enough for him to hear you only to be met with it plopped down right in your chest.

you just barely open one of your eye to see if he’s serious about his opposing stance. when you see him looking right back at you, you know he is and that only further annoys you. “but i’m not doing it, not right now. i can’t.”

he pulls you until you’re seated, despite your purposefully limp body making it difficult. “you don’t really have a choice, sweets.” if you don’t do it now when he’s here to hold you accountable, you won’t do it at all. “i’ll help you. come on.”

“you can’t.” your exasperated by his insistence. he’s always like this, always forcing you to do things you don’t want to. in hindsight, you’re grateful because it’s usually something you really should do. “you don’t even know what i’m talking about.”

“i don’t have to know what you’re talking about to help you. you’re one studying, not me.”

you have no idea how much has passed since that conversation. truthfully, you have no idea if time is passing at all.

how your study session escalated like this, you have no idea. hobie and his infinite horniness is really the reason behind this, as he is with almost everything.

“read the next line.” he speaks from above you. he’s still seated, however you’re lying on your stomach again. you’re back, focusing the best you can due to the conditions of this time being. your bonnet is hanging halfway off your head from all the sliding you’ve done.

hobie is gripping one of your ankles, the other free to move behind his back. unlike other times you take too long to follow directions, he states his piece again. “i know you heard me, babydoll.”

it originally started out pretty enjoyable. you’d read out your little facts, tell him what it meant, show him you understand. in return, he’d praise you with soft words and grind the baby blue vibrator against your clit.

the first few times, you found the waves of your orgasms to be pleasant. it served as the perfect incentive to motivate you to study. however, now is an entirely different story. instead if a reward, it operates as a punishment. you’ve been pushed far past the point of overstimulation and lost count of the number of times hobie had you creaming all over yourself.

your lips tremble and you do your best to ignore the soft buzzing between your legs. much to your dismay, it’s still on and on the lowest setting. how long is stays like that is up to you. “in – infants first experience trust versus mistrust.” your hand flies behind you when he presses just right. the usually enjoyable feeling is underlined with pain and has you wanting to snap your legs close.

“move it before i do,” hobie says after giving you opportune time to correct your decision. he doesn’t like being mean with you, would much rather spoil you and never see you lift a finger. sometimes he does have to put his foot down, though he never really revels in it.

you hesitate, blubbering about how rude and unhelpful he is. you’re only lifting one finger at a time off his wrist. he wouldn’t care if you weren’t simultaneously attempting to pull away from him.

“gonna tell you again one more time, angel.”

your hand is gone before he finishes his sentence.

you don’t see hobie smile your obedience but you hear it, hear how lighthearted his voice is when he speaks again. “so trust and whatever. what about it?”

he’s still so gentle with you even like this. he only holds tight enough to keep you still and sometimes he takes pity on you. like this time when he turns the vibrator off. just enough to let you think.

you can’t think, though. you’re blank and growing more restless the longer nothing forms in your head. it’s such a simple topic until there’s three different people who theorize the meaning behind it. “something with nature and nurture, i think.”

“something? you think?”

hobie can’t believe what he’s hearing. you knew your fate when you said it, yet you continue to speak it. to your defense, you weren’t all that confident in your response. if it didn’t align with what you said before, he’d catch it and somehow you would end up back in this situation again. either blamed for not expanding earlier or for being incorrect now.

“it’s not a direct response,” you immediately defend yourself. you look over your shoulder, hoping to plead and response. “psychology is like a big written response test. everyone’s brain isn’t the same.”

he cocks his head, tenderly stroking your calf. by now, he’s used to your excuses and isn’t interested in negotiating the answers with you. “yeah? is your test written response?”

you suck your teeth and face the decorative pictures on the wall in front of you. what does he want you to do? break into the classroom and take the answer sheet? “you’re so mean to me. you hate me.”

hobie only rolls his eyes at your dramatics. while he did expect it at some point, your constant protests still has the same effect on him. “you’re such a crybaby. not gonna be sayin’ that when you pass.”

he turns the vibrator back on and reinstates his grip on your leg. he doesn’t have to, not with the way you collapse. your face is in your hands, muffling your garbles. if it was any other day, he’d feel betrayed. how dare you keep him from hearing what sounds he’s causing. today though, he’s more lenient.

you’re trembling when he circles it between your folds. you reach, seizing a hold of your cinnamroll build-a-bear. you feel a bit of guilt for your poor bear having to witness such lewd acts but the feel disappears the moment he turns it on the highest setting.

it’s so sudden, both the settings change and how quickly a weak watery stream comes out of your pulsating hole. you shriek through the rhythmic clenching until you’re whimpering.

your pussy is aching, tightening around nothing and begging to be filled. your clit may be sensitive but your need is not yet satisfied. “oh my god ‘bie. can you please just fuck me. i’ll study and be quiet and do whatever you want. please.”

hobie only laughs. it’s genuine though, soft and sweet when he pats your lower back. “can’t baby. that’s not what we’re doing here. if you do well next week, maybe.”

you feel like crying. how much longer did he intend on doing this? how much longer are you going to be tortured? is this how you die? you know your complaints would be ineffective in receiving the results you want so you sniff, sucking it up. you’ll just agree for now and get what you want later.

surely enough, on next tuesday you’re excited to show him your high marks. thanks to his unconventional methods, you make a ninety-four. and just as he’s suggested, you’re rewarded with an amazing night full of no sleep.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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laureliciousdefinition · 2 years

Text

Skirting | Jim Hopper X Reader

Summary: you wear a short skirt around Hop and he enjoys it, to say the least.

Rating: 18+!!!!!!! Minors DNI! Srsly

Warnings/tags: very smutty, basically porn with plot, afab genitalia description, brief mention of food, fingering, p in v sex, I think that’s it??

A/N: I’ve been in a bad writing slump recently, like I’ve got 4 different wips but I hate them all soooo I churned out this bad boy for everyone’s hopeful enjoyment. It’s not my best work, it’s not beta’d, but I hope u can all enjoy hopper going feral for a skirt :’)

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Jim Hopper did not consider himself a man of fashion. If he wasn’t wearing his uniform, he rotated between a variety of flannel shirts and plain tank tops, save for his one “exciting” pink and green patterned button down that he saved for special occasions. That said, he most certainly was not a man of women’s fashion; he’d attempted to buy El clothes all of one time before realizing he knew nothing about what a teenage girl is supposed to wear. It wasn’t something he ever paid attention to- in the last several years when he was with a woman, he was more focused on getting her clothes off as quickly and efficiently as possible. That’s when you walked into the picture.

Upon moving to Hawkins, you quickly realized you were a bit more… in style, so to speak, than a lot of the ladies in town. You couldn’t blame them, it was a small town and trends took about five years to make it out there, and being from a larger city, you had more access to current styles. When you’d first moved there, you received several pointed stares from some women in your office who thought you showed too much leg or wore blouses that were too “over the top”. It didn’t bother you too much, however. You wore what made you feel comfortable and didn’t plan on changing that about yourself any time soon.

This confidence was what made you catch Jim’s eye. When you’d started going on dates, he liked how you were bold in what you did, be it with your opinions, your fashion, or whatever else. It drew him in to you, made him want to keep learning more and more.

So now, as you approached his car, he felt a jolt of heat straight up his spine. You looked amazing, to say the least; a black, long-sleeved shirt with loose arms was tucked carefully into a plaid skirt, your signature black tights (the ones the older women from the office thought were too gaudy for daytime wear) hugging your legs beneath it, and your feet tucked into sharp black heels. You looked beautiful, otherworldly- you always did in his eyes. And though he’d never considered himself a man that cared about what women wore, the length of your skirt and the consequent stirring low in his belly made him reconsider that sentiment.

He had to remind himself to get a grip as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

“You tryin’ to kill me before we even have dinner?” He said with a laugh, unable to help raking his eyes over you.

“Keep it together, Hop. I’m hungry.” You responded playfully before leaning across the seat and placing a kiss on his cheek. You muttered out an apology as you wiped the lipstick your smooch had left on his cheek.

The truth was: you knew you looked good. You’d spent more time than you were willing to admit getting your hair just the way you like it and took extra care applying yourself makeup. You’d been saving this new skirt for a special occasion, and decided a nice dinner with your favorite guy was as good a time as any. It was short- shorter than you usually went for, stopping around the middle of your thigh. But it hugged your curves like it was made for you, and you for it. And not only did you know you looked good in it, you knew it would drive Hopper crazy.

You had to admit, he held himself together extremely well throughout the dinner, considering the way you not-so-discreetly rubbed his ankle with your foot the whole time. It was fun teasing him and seeing how far you could push, and having (one too many glasses of) wine in your system only made you bolder.

His shell was beginning to crack though- you noticed as soon as he walked you to your door.

“Come in for a nightcap?” You’d asked him sweetly, leaning against your door. You reached a hand out to grab his and idly played with his fingers.

You knew his answer before he responded. “Can’t say no when you look at me like that,” he smiled down at you as you unlocked your door.

He settled himself into the small couch in your living room while you prepared him a drink. When you returned, you sat opposite of him, crossing your legs.

“Dinner was delicious,” you made conversation, letting the man sip and hum in agreement.

Hopper was doing his best to stay respectful. He kept his eyes trained clearly on your face in between sips of his drink. He definitely did not notice the way your skirt rode up when you crossed one leg over another, revealing even more of your clothed leg to him. Definitely not.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a bit before you set your glass down on the coffee table in front of you. As you scooted closer to him on the couch, he did the same and opened an arm to you. Settling into his side, you draped your legs over his.

“You really do look amazing tonight,” he said quietly, cheeks pinking with a slight embarrassment at being vulnerable.

You angled your head up to smile at him. “I’m glad you think so, I tried,” you admitted with a laugh.

He ran his hand slowly up and down your outer thigh, gliding easily over the nylon. “You don’t have to try at all. I always think you look nice.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You placed your palm on the side of his head and drew him in for a long, pressing kiss. He returned the sentiment, pushing his mouth against yours with the slightest hint of urgency. His hand slipped to the crook of your knees and adjusted your bodies so you were beneath him, and your legs were slotted together.

A pleased hum escaped your mouth at this position change. Your hands dragged along his scalp and tangled in the back of his hair, attempting to pull him closer. While the sex was great, these sorts of kisses were undeniably your favorite. They were passionate yet tender, holding all the weight of what was to come. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered; if you were to ask him, he would probably say you were the only thing that mattered.

He pulled away from your mouth to bury himself in the space between your neck and shoulder. He pressed languid, open-mouth kisses to your neck that made your cheeks burn.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you since you walked to my car,” he told you in between kisses, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

You giggled at this. “Yeah baby?” Was all you managed, already becoming impatient with your need for more more more. “Wanna move to my bed?”

He removed himself from your neck to smile devilishly at you, letting you know he felt the same. “Thought you’d never ask,” he stood, offering you a hand. You hoped he didn’t notice the way you had to steady yourself, feeling sober from the alcohol but positively drunk on him.

You led him to your bedroom, flicking on the dim beside lamp before laying down. You held his hands in yours and tugged, but he remained standing for a moment.

Faintly, you felt embarrassed under his gaze. “What are you doing?” You asked sheepishly.

“Just… lookin’ at you. Pretty thing.”

The simple words did a number on you. It made your heart flutter and you tugged on his hands once more, desperate for his mouth again. This time he obliged and returned to his previous position with your legs slotted within each other.

You continued kissing like you had been on the couch, though now there was a higher sense of urgency. Your breathing had picked up and the kisses had become sloppier, tongues tangled together. As you laid there, you felt a hand slip between the two of you and tug on your blouse.

Sitting up slightly, you pulled the shirt over your head, revealing a sheer, lacy white bra. The way his breath hitched was not lost on you.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, moving his hand to run it along your upper thigh.

Once you’d replied with a breathy yes, please, he moved so he was on up his knees between your legs. He reached up within the skirt and found the top of the tights, then began pulling them along with your panties down your legs.

“So soft,” he murmured when your legs were bare for him.

You lifted your hips for him to pull the skirt off, but he stopped you. “No, leave it on, you look so good in it.”

Once again you found yourself flushed, unable to form proper sentences.

He ducked towards your chest, placing soft kisses on the top of your breast that wasn’t covered by the cups. Resting on one elbow, he moved his free hand to trace up your inner thigh. He was moving infuriatingly slowly, and the irony of the situation was enough to make you laugh. You’d spent all night teasing him, riling him up, only for him to end up getting you embarrassingly wet from his kisses and gentle touches. Though as soon as you felt him brush his middle finger over your center, you didn’t particularly care anymore.

“Fuck, so wet for me already?” He asked, looking up at you.

“What can I say,” you half laughed, half huffed.

He chuckled quietly at how flustered you were before dragging his knuckle through your wetness once more. He repeated this a few times, coating his finger before slowly sliding it into you. You inhaled sharply, and he watched your face with intensity as he moved the digit in and out, in and out. The obscene noise it made only served to make him impossibly harder, his erection straining against his jeans. He added his ring finger, reveling in the way you shuddered and let out a soft moan.

After what felt like an eternity on your end, he removed his fingers gently and offered them to you. Your eyes closed as you sucked on them gently, tasting yourself. When you finished, he stepped off the bed and you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Gimme a strip tease,” you mostly joked, head lolling to the side with a grin.

“You wish.” The man responded, tossing his discarded shirt to the side.

You couldn’t help the way you clenched around nothing watching him undo his belt and step out of his jeans. This was far from the first time you’d seen him nude, but every time you did, you were reminded of just how big he is. Free from the confines of his briefs, his cock stood tall and aching, and it was enough to make you feel lightheaded.

He returned to the bed, this time positioning himself so you caged him with your legs. He pushed your skirt up for better access, the fact that it remained on at all making you feel extra naughty. Leaning up to press a decidedly tender kiss compared to the nature of the situation to your mouth, he slid himself into you with a breathy gasp.

You sat like this for a moment, allowing yourself to adjust to the size of him. You locked your eyes onto his and placed your hands on his thick biceps before nodding a go-ahead.

He moved slowly at first, drawing out each pump. “Fuck.” He’d uttered, feeling the way you were so incredibly warm and tight around him.

Once he began picking up the pace, you were unable to contain the borderline-pornographic noises escaping your mouth. He was hitting so deep within you you were seeing stars. You couldn’t help raking your nails along the sides of his shoulders and the top of his back.

“You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?” He panted out. “Wearing that little skirt all night, knowing I’d wanna fuck you the second I saw it.”

You whined in response to the filth spewing from his lips. You loved when Hopper started rambling during sex.

His pace picked up once more, and by now he was drilling into you. The pressure in your lower stomach was starting to build, but you willed yourself you hold off and draw this out as long as you could.

“You know you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he muttered, a hand slipping under the small of your back to lift your hips more.

With the new angle, you pressed your head further into the pillows. “God-shit, Hop. Feels so good,” you rambled out.

Through his moans you heard a laugh. “I know it does baby. You feel, fuck, feel amazing,” he pressed his forehead to yours.

You moved a hand from his bicep down to your clit, circling it with enough pressure to make your eyes squeeze shut. When he noticed this, you felt his hips stutter and his pace falter.

“Touchin’ yourself for me, pretty girl?” He asked, pulling you even closer with the hand under your back.

“I’m so close baby,” your words come out rushed and breathy. In a different scenario you would’ve made fun of yourself for how corny you sounded, but you didn’t have it in you to care at this point.

He did his best to keep up his pace as he gently nudged your hand off of your clit and replaced it with his thumb. He circled gently, and you felt yourself flutter around him.

“That’s it, let go. I got you.” His tender assurances combined with the overwhelming sensation of his dick and hands were too much.

You came hard around him, a long, drawn out moan leaving your chest. Your back arched up and your vision went white, the only thing grounding you being your death grip on his bicep. He wasn’t far behind, giving you three solid, drawn pumps before finishing deep inside you. He was spewing more filth, though you couldn’t process anything he was saying with how hard you were reeling after your orgasm.

Once you’d both come down, still tangled in each other’s limbs, you laughed quietly.

“So I forgot to ask, did you like my new skirt?”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Feedback/interactions are always appreciated<3

#jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #hopper stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader

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lessthanpure · 1 year

Text

Only Mine

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: John Winchester/Female Reader

Tags: oral sex, Daddy kink, older man/younger woman, possessiveness, slight spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

Wordcount: 2706

Rating: Explicit

18+ only

Notes: I never thought I’d see the day I’d write reader insert. Not that it’s bad, I just never thought I’d do it myself. It was…an experience. Enjoy almost 3k of just porn.

ao3 link

You can feel John’s eyes on you as you hustle pool. You two are a little lower on cash than you’d like to be and this is the easiest way to get it. It’s even easier in college towns like this one- there are plenty of drunk frat boys practically tripping over each other to slam their parents’ money on the table and goad you to ‘try’ to beat them. Which you do. Repeatedly.

You two stay until closing and then walk to his truck. He drives to your shared room and you walk in first. “Not a bad haul tonight,” you remark when the door closes, and then John grabs you by the waist and twists you around to face him. John’s eyes are dark with a familiar look and you swallow.

“Do you have to wear shit like this,” John asks, looking down. You’re wearing a short frayed denim skirt and a low cut pink top.

“It makes it easier,” you remind him, curling a hand in the collar of his flannel shirt.

John grunts. “I hate seeing guys leer at you.”

“Like you’re much better,” you tease. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of me all night.”

John growls and you shudder. “I’m allowed to look at you. You don’t know how many times I had to restrain myself from beating the shit out of some 18 year old horny punk who looked like he might actually have the balls to try and touch you.”

“Well, I’m sure the local police would thank you,” you smile. “And you know I’m always the first one to beat the ever living shit out of someone who touches me without my say-so.”

John pulls you in tighter and you willingly go with it. He’s hard against you, and you gently press your hips to his. John groans under his breath. “Princess,” he drawls, long and low.

“Why don’t I take care of that, Daddy,” you whisper, reaching down. John’s free hand grabs your wrist and you stop, frowning.

“No.”

“John, you’ve never turned down an orgasm in your fucking life,” you say. “What is going on?”

John picks you up and you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. “I need to remind you that you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” you tell him. “And you can ‘remind’ me of that by fucking me into next week.”

John’s hand comes down hard on your ass, and you yelp at the unexpected- but not unwanted- sting. “Don’t be a brat.”

You smile slowly at him and lean in, nose sliding against his. You lean into him more, pressing your breasts against his chest and touching his upper lip with your tongue. “Why? Is Daddy gonna punish me,” you whisper, tilting your head.

John kisses you fiercely and you press your hands through his hair. You grind down against his cock and he moans into your mouth. He walks forward and presses you to the bed. He shoves his thigh between your legs and you ride it, desperate for friction. You both end up panting, breaths mingling. “Baby girl,” John groans.

“Daddy,” you gasp.

John practically rips your clothes off, but he restrains himself enough to leave the fabric intact. He puts his big hand against your sex and you moan, rocking. You can feel his heat through your panties and you want him to sink inside you. John keeps his palm open and you whine in frustration.

“You got something you want to ask, baby girl?”

“Please, John, just fuck me.”

John smiles slowly. “Oh come on, you can beg prettier than that.”

“Fuck,” you snap, frustrated. “Please, Daddy. Want your big cock deep in my pussy,” you give up anyway. John shudders and moans. “Want to feel you fill me up, drip out of me.” John’s breath catches. You don’t let him bareback often, but you’re on the pill and in a safe time in your cycle. You don’t want to waste time with a condom, you’re aching and soaked for him.

“Fuck, Princess,” he pants. “You don’t know what you do to me when you ask so nice.” He rubs his thumb against your clothed clit and you moan, arching into his hand. “Yeah, good girl.”

“Daddy, just touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he says. Even horny, John’s a fucking asshole. “Or do you want something else, Princess?”

“Want your fingers,” you pant. “Want them to fill me up, curl inside me, brush against my G-spot.”

John hums and pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. He puts his palm back on you, though. He groans. “You’re soaked, Princess.”

“Soaked for you, Daddy.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum on Daddy’s cock?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Maybe if you’re a really good girl.”

“Daddy,” you whine. “I am a good girl.”

John finally moves his fingers, tracing along your slit. You move your hips, trying to get him inside, but he pins them down with his other strong hand. “Not when you’re acting like that, Princess,” he scolds. “Now you just sit there and let me touch you.” You whine. John looks down and watches his hand as he sinks a single finger inside you. You need more. You wiggle invitingly but John stills his hand. “I said stay still, baby girl.”

You whimper but obey. John rewards you with a curl of his finger and strokes your insides. You moan at the feeling. He slowly eases his finger in and out, but it’s not nearly enough to make you cum. “Daddy, more, please.”

“Aw, what’s wrong, Princess? Is one finger not enough for my horny little cockslut?”

“Not nearly enough, Daddy.”

John hums but doesn’t insert a second one. You grab his shoulders. “Hands off.” You drop them and twist your hands into the sheets. “Good girl.” He leans in and speaks against your lips. “How long can I string you along, I wonder? How long until you’re begging for my cock?”

“Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good. Wanna take your cock so bad.”

John pulls his head back and clicks his tongue. “Not like that, Princess. Want to hear nothing but ‘Daddy’ and ‘please’ and ‘yes.’”

“Daddy,” you gasp. He hasn’t ever been like this. He’s commanding and dominant in bed, but mostly he just likes to fuck you and make you cum on his cock or tongue or fingers. Often all three on the same night. He makes you cum a lot- he’s never held you back. He’s a generous lover. “Pleeeeease,” you draw out.

John watches you, finger moving slowly. “You’re pretty like this, Princess. Panting and red-faced, whining for my cock like an animal in heat.” He smiles slowly, the expression unfurling on his face. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” his voice deepens further into a growl. “None of those fucking kids you were playing with.”

“Only you, Daddy. No one else is good enough.”

John hums, happy. He inserts a second finger and you whimper, arching against his hand. He doesn’t mind this movement. “Yeah, baby girl,” he whispers. “Good girl.”

You fuck yourself on his fingers, panting. He curls them, brushing against your G-spot. You moan. “There, Daddy, there!” He moves his fingers away from it, though. You whimper.

“Only very good girls get to cum.”

“Daddy, please.” He stills his hand, just filling you with his fingers. It’s not enough, you need to be stuffed. John just watches you, and you can’t figure out what he wants. “Please, Daddy,” you say. “Just wanna cum. I’m your good girl. Your Princess. Your baby girl.” John cocks his head but doesn’t move. “Fuck, John, tell me what you want me to say and I’ll say it,” you snap. John’s eyes blaze and he smacks the outside of your thigh. You whimper and press into the sting. He still doesn’t move the fingers that are inside you. You move your muscles in a wave. That does the trick- he moans and starts again.

“Yeah, love to feel you squeezing me, Princess. You gonna be good and do that on my cock? Milk every drop out of me until you’re so full of me you can’t move?”

“Yes, Daddy, yes. Always a good girl for you.”

He inserts a third finger and you arch against it, fingers clutching the sheets tighter. You want to wrap your legs around him, but your panties are still around your thighs. “Now, I know that ain’t true, Princess. I’ve been watching you bend over a pool table all night, shake that cute little ass a little temptingly. You don’t know how many times I imagined taking you in front of everyone, making you scream my name so they know you’re mine.”

You whimper- you’ve never been big into exhibition, but the idea is arousing. You imagine it, bent over the pool table and begging for him. Seeing those stupid frat boys looking so disappointed as someone better than they’ll ever be takes you. You feel yourself get wetter and John groans. He pants before he claims your mouth. You can’t keep up with how his fingers are starting to move faster. You whimper and moan into his mouth.

John pulls back and finger fucks you, moving faster and faster so you climb quicker and quicker. Just when you’re about to reach your peak, he pulls them out. You sob in frustration. He ducks down and shoves his tongue into you. You want to hold his head, keep him still so you can fuck yourself on his tongue. You twist your hands tighter into the sheets instead. John uses both his hands to spread your thighs so he can get deeper. “Daddy,” you beg. John doesn’t answer, too busy moving his tongue in and out of you. You’re just about to cum again when he pulls back a little, retracting his tongue. He just strokes you with his fingers gently, not entering you. “Daddy, Daddy, please,” you sob. You look down and John has his eyes locked on yours.

“Baby girl, do you wanna cum?”

“Yes,” you sob.

“Tell me how much.”

“So bad, Daddy.”

John ducks down again and licks into you. You arch, whining. John has always been incredible with his mouth, but this is insane. He’s licking into you like a man with a mission. You can feel his tongue moving inside you, tracing your walls. He pulls back and licks your clit slowly before sucking on it. He shoves his tongue into you again. You rock against it, whimpering. You pray he lets you cum this time, but your prayer is answered by a ‘no’ as he pulls back. “Daddy, Daddy, please let me cum.”

“Not yet. You’re still forming full sentences, sweetheart.” His eyes darken even further until the pupils are almost as black as a demon’s. “And if you even think about faking that, I will make you pay. Do you understand, baby girl?”

You whimper at the dark promise in his voice- John has always been creative with sexual ‘punishments.’ You remember the time he had a remote-control vibrator. And the time he made you kneel and suck him off without using your hands. He had thankfully pulled out before he came that night and fucked you right on the floor, even though he complained for days about his knees.

“I understand, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” He fucks you with his tongue again. You whimper and shudder. Again, he stops before you cum. You sob, feeling your eyes fill with actual tears.

He crawls back up. “Look at my pretty little Princess, crying for me.” His voice is low and gravelly. You can see your wetness coating his cheeks and chin. He kisses you and you suck his tongue into your mouth. You kiss him filthily but your tongue stills when he shoves two fingers inside of you again. He pulls back and watches you intently.

“Please, Daddy,” you beg. “Fuck me.”

John cocks his head back slightly and hums, pretending to think. He works you to the brink again and then pulls out. He gets off the bed entirely. “Daddy, no,” you sob, reaching for him. He strips and gets back in the bed.

“Shh, shh, Princess. Daddy won’t leave you.” You sob in relief. “Hands back in the sheets, baby girl.” You obey and he takes off your panties before he traces his cock along your slit. He enters you with a long groan. He’s flush soon and you clench around him. He shudders on top of you. “So wet, Princess.”

You nod, sobbing. John’s cock is big, and he absolutely knows how to use it. He barely pulls out before getting back in. His strokes are short but soon lengthen until he’s pounding into you. You take one hand out of the sheets and brace it against the headboard to give you something more solid to ground yourself with.

“Yeah, baby girl, yeah.” You whimper and arch, chasing your pleasure. You’re building up again and hope and pray that he just lets you fucking cum. John fucks you harder and lowers his head. He kisses you, but it’s a ‘kiss’ in the loosest definition. You can’t reciprocate or even close your mouth much. You’re just panting and moaning, and John pulls his head back. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl.” You climb until just before your peak. You half-expect him to pull out but no. He lets you fall over and you scream. You gush around him and John snarls. “Fuck, Princess, fuck!” John keeps fucking you and you whimper and cum again. He grinds against you, hand reaching down and touching your clit. You cum again, shaking. He fucks you once, twice, then cums. You whimper as you feel him fill you. He pants on top of you as he comes down. “Such a good girl, squirting for me,” he groans.

You whimper when he pulls out. John looks down, watching his release drip out of you. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him. You can’t even move so he grabs your knee and pulls your leg between his. He curls his other arm under you and pulls you tight to his chest. You whimper into his neck. “It’s alright, Princess. I’m here. I’m here.” You fall asleep in his arms.

You wake up the next morning and John is still by your side. You put your ear on his chest, listening to him breathe and his heartbeat. You’re sore and aching and you desperately need a shower, but you also can’t fucking move. John stirs and then fully wakes up. His hand strokes your waist and you relax.

“You ok, Princess,” he asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Hope that wasn’t too much.” He’s actually concerned and you huff, putting your chin on his chest so you can see his face.

“I’m made of stronger stuff than that, John.” You move slightly and wince. “Though I can’t fucking move my legs.” John smirks slowly. “Oh, fuck off.”

John starts to laugh, low in his chest. “So it was good, baby girl?”

“Ugh. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, your ego really doesn’t need to be any bigger.”

“You did squirt for me last night.” You blush; you’ve never done that before. John chuckles and slides his hand up and down your lower back. Then he groans. “Can you roll? My arm is dead asleep.”

“Serves you right, asshole.” You stay for a second but then force yourself to roll over enough that he can take it back. He shakes it out, wincing, but you go back to him. “Next time, it’s my turn,” you say, looking into his eyes. John smirks again.

“Sure thing, Princess. Let’s see how long you can last without begging for my cock.”

You glare at him and try to prop yourself up, but your elbow slides out from under you, making you curse and him laugh as you hit the sheets again. “You’re an ass,” you grumble but give up and lay on your belly. John chuckles and rolls onto his side, kissing your shoulder. You relax at the gentle affection. He hums.

“As long as you’re happy, Princess.”

#my fics #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fic #john winchester x reader #reader insert

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starg1rl444 · 2 years

Text

uploading my obx ffs on here as well 🙈 wattpad: starg1rl666

(i wrote all of these about two years ago do they absolutely suck but i have no new material at the moment)

rafe cameron

„be right back!" sarah yelled, leaving the room to speak to her boyfriend on the phone. you smirked, knowing that was going to take long.

you started putting on your skincare products, massaging your face, relaxing. a long day was finally over, and for the first time in a long period you stayed at your best friend/ family friend sarah's house.

everything would have been perfect, if it wasn't for rafe. you two had hated each other since the sandpit days. growing older, that never changed. he would always stay a psychotic asshole, and you knew that.

the bathroom door opening harshly and without warning snapped you back out of your thoughts.

"what the fuck? theres this thing called privacy!" you yelled out, considering the fact that you were only wearing thin, short silk pajamas. out of instinct, you grabbed a towel from the wall and covered yourself as well as possible.

rafe chuckled loving the dominance over you. the fact, that he scared you.

"of course you're here. always in my fucking house at the worst time."

you scuffed and rolled your eyes. "yeah, sure. i'm here for you only. i just love upsetting you, because i have nothing better to do in my pathetic life." you threw the towel and your products by side and made your way to the door.

"where do you think you're going?" he stopped you with a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow, blocking the door and not making an attempt to let you through.

"what is your problem? just let me through."

he exhaled harshly. "yeah, i don't think so. you've been annoying and disrespectful to me since the day i met you, no ones ever put you in your place."

you stared up at him, now being just a few inches away from him.

about to yell out for help, you inhaled, but he quickly slapped his hand on your mouth and manoeuvred you to the other side of the room in no time.

you couldn't even process what happened when your back hit the cold wall.

rafe stared you down with cold eyes, slowly removing his hand.

you started to realise how tall he actually was. at least 6'2, making him over a whole foot taller than you. you had to actually look up to see the expression in his eyes.

"you're staring." he noted, after a few moments of you two just standing there.

"no i'm not. you're absolutely full of yourself, you know that?"

he chuckled again. " and you're a bratty little bitch, do you know that?"

you were shocked. no one besides him spoke to you like this, and you catched yourself loving it secretly.

as if he read your mind. "i know you like it when i say these things, y/n. you're an undeniable whore."

you gasped at his cold ring brushing up against your leg. his hand wandered up further, reaching the hem of your white silk shorts, playing with the fabric, while gazing at your body hungrily.

his face leaned closer and closer. threatening, but you didn't do anything to stop him. your lips were inches away from touching, meanwhile both of his hands arrived at your waist, pulling up your top a little, the cold air hitting your ribs.

he noticed, grabbing the now naked parts, keeping your skin warm with his large hands while teasing your lip with his teeth.

you couldn't help but moan against him softly, making him smirk again.

"god, just kiss me"

he pulled you in closer, your soft chest against his muscular, wide one. you could literally feel his heart beating under his tight black shirt. his lips finally met yours almost violently.

the kiss was lustful, longing, and almost desperate.

you could feel your legs giving up, sinking fully into his arms.

he pulled away, breath hitching.

"slut."

you loved him calling you that. so much.

rafe grabbed your ass and lifted you against the wall.

still out of breath and obviously extremely hard, he whispered in your ear: "it's time someone gets a little control over you."

before you could react, he had aggressively ripped off your shorts with one hand.

he unbuckled his belt and started pressing his dick against your aching core, having you moan out loud due to the much needed stimulation.

before you knew it, he slammed into you hard without warning.

"god, fuck." he cursed out at how wet and tight you were.

you were literally speechless, gasping and breathing hard at him inside you.

"let me fuck some respect into you."

before letting you adjust to his size, he slammed into you hard and deep, fucking you against the wall. he was unbelievably fast, it was definitely going to leave a lot of bruises on your back.

"fuck, rafe. oh my god." you cried out as he hit your spot over and over again.

"you like the way im stretching you out, huh?"

you were unable to speak as he was somehow pounding into you even faster.

you screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure, knowing you wouldn't be able to last long.

he started cupping your breast under your shirt, the overstimulation being too much.

before you could cum undone, he slipped out of you, having you whine loudly, and pushed you over to the sink, signaling you to jump on which you did.

never losing eye contact, he slowly lowered himself down to your twitching clit.

he went on his knees, spreading your legs with his elbow and licking along your wet and throbbing pussy.

you screamed out, his eyes darkening and full with lust.

he started eating you out relentlessly, you grabbing and pulling his hair, moaning out in ecstasy.

before you could moan again, he slammed two fingers inside, not stopping to please your clit.

"do you want to cum, slut?" he teased, going even faster. knowing how close you were.

"YES! please." you cried out.

"yeah, that's not gonna be enough for me to let you." he slowly stopped rubbing your clit and pulled his fingers out, you screaming in agony.

"PLEASE! for fucks sake please let me cum"

he smirked. "alright then."

from zero to hundred again in just a few seconds, he was fingering you so hard you couldn't even catch air, as you already felt your orgasm.

cumming all over his fingers, your eyes rolling back in extreme pleasure, your vision turning white.

you heard him laughing, as he slowly pulled his fingers out again.

"clean yourself up, you're filthy. "looking down on you in an almost degrading way. he made his way to the door, turning around to you, still catching your breath on the cold marble sink, a whole mess.

"we're not finished here, don't think i'm even close to being done with you."

with those words he shut the door behind him, leaving me breathless.

#obx2 #obx1 #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron

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ibrithir-was-here · 1 year

Text

Fustigate

means “to criticize severely.” Its older, less common meaning is “to beat with or as if with a short heavy club.”

It took him a few months, longer than he would have liked, but in the end the Corinthian managed to finally track her down. He'd kept every news clipping, followed every police report he could get access to, tracked down a few of the witnesses, though they weren't going to be witnesses much else. He'd even slipped into a few nightmares, though he'd hated to have to rely on the Dreaming of all things to gain his goal.

But it had all been worth it because now, now she was here, right in his sights, across a crowded club floor.

The Angel of Death.

He had to admit she was shorter than he expected.

The Corinthian crossed the dance floor with a grin on his face he couldn't contain, moving past the gluttony of eyes that watched him as he moved through the crowd with the ease of a stalking panther. He only had thoughts for one pair of eyes, ones currently hidden behind a pair of tinted glasses, more red than rosy.

They were the only spot of color on her pale face, framed by a cloud of equally pale hair--well, besides the dark red of her lips, such a deep red they reminded him of dried blood.

She was dressed in a red and black ensemble, some blend of punk and goth that he vaguely thought Dream would have worn to visit that immortal project of his, this year as a matter of fact--if his lordship had been free to do so of course.

His grin widened. Yes, this was going to be fun.

He finally reached her side, tucking himself into the corner she was leaning in, looking out at the dancing, and said loud enough for her to hear him over the beat, but low enough no one else could overhear:

"Well, you've got her style down"

The woman turned to him, eyebrow raised, her posture stiffening only slightly, she clearly thought he was merely another drunk club goer trying to come onto her, nothing more threatening.

"Excuse me?" She had a soft north-east accent, he would have placed her somewhere around New York, Queens most likely.

"Your outfit." He went on cheerfully, conversationally, leaning in just a bit closer.

"Definitely something she'd wear. The hair's a bit pale for Death though."

There, she'd tensed up all over at that. He liked it when they started to catch on, just getting that sense that something was off.

He leaned in a bit closer, trying to get a glimpse of her true eye color through the tinted glass. Sadly the flashing lights of the club weren't helping, so he decided to just go ahead and seal the deal.

"And I think there might be more of the devil than angel in you Darlin'. "

He had to give her credit, she only let her shock show for less then a second before her face went into a total calm, leaning towards him to ask with beautifully faked flirtation:

"Do you want to step outside?"

He flashed her his widest grin yet.

"I was thinking you'd never ask…"

***

"I don't suppose you'd be open to criticism on your technique?"

The Corinthian dogged the black bladed knife just in time to stop it entering his throat and sealing those as his last words.

"Good grief do you ever stop talking??"

The pale woman hissed, lunging at him once more before expertly dodging his own attempted jab.

"What can I say, you interest me"

He lunged again, and she dodged again, twisting to slice him under the arm. He moved away just in time, but his sleeve had a nasty gash in it now.

"Damn it I liked this shirt"

"And I liked having a night out, no blood, no fuss, nobody trying to murder me. We can't all have what we want though can we?"

"I do" The Corinthian said with a smile, aiming a kick at her stomach, which she blocked by slicing at his leg so that he was forced to hastily pull it back.

"I'll admit, it's taking a bit longer than usual to get it tonight. You're the first person in a long time who's been able to keep me on my toes"

He feigned a strike with his dagger then kicked out again instead, she barely managed to maneuver into a drop in time, rolling behind him and lashing out at his heels as she did.

He jumped in time and spun round to face her just as she got back on her feet, daggers in hand.

"I like it" He admitted as they slowly circled each other. "Having a challenge, it's been a while."

"I'm not trying to give you a challenge, I'm trying to shut your damn mouth"

She leapt forward, he dodged, and if he'd had eyes he would have blinked hard as she disappeared into the darkness behind him.

He went on instant alert, aware of every sound. Every movement. The faintest stirring of breath.

He swung around just in time to catch her wrist as she brought the dagger down towards his back. She lashed out with the other as soon has he'd stopped the first, but he managed to grab that wrist as well, holding them locked in a stalemate, chests heaving, sweat and blood from the hits they'd managed dripping, eyes and eye-teeth locked on eachother behind their respective lenses.

"And see, that's what I was talking about--" He said calmly, rapidly twisting her right arm up and behind her back, spinning her round to press her back to his chest. To her credit let out only a small hiss of pain, dropping the dagger.

"You're all force, no finesse--"

"Finesse??"

"No style, no distinction except--"

She slammed her head back against his face and blood began pouring from his now, if not broken definitely cracked nose.

"Except for the brutality" He hissed out, grinning through the pain, his grip still tight on her arms--until a sharp pain in his thigh alerted him to the fact she'd managed to hold on to her other dagger.

"And the efficiency" He added, before suddenly spinning her round to face him, doing it fast enough she was still gripping the dagger and forcing her to pull out with her as she was manhandled.

"Both of which are quite impressive. But you could use more flair."

She stared at him for a long moment, and he had time to think about how impressive it also was that her glasses had managed to stay on this long, either they were magic like his or she had an amazing optometrist.

"Are you seriously saying I should--what, jazz up trying to kill you??" She finally asked, looking both bewildered and annoyed.

"Well, yeah, no point in doing it if you can't have fun" The Corinthian said with a cheeky grin.

And for the first time he saw the hint of a smile across her own face, the thinnest of smirks, sharp as her daggers.

"What makes you think I'm not?" She countered, and there was a sparkle in her eyes he could see even through the tinted glass. And suddenly he just couldn't wait anymore to taste it.

He risked letting go of her daggerless hand to swipe at her glasses before she could react, and oh, oh.

"There we are" He sighed, tossing the tinted glasses aside to free his hand to grab her chin, tilting her face up to better catch that sparkle again, now glittering with anger and defiance and the barest, barest hint of fear.

"What a lovely eye color you have" He whispered, and she did. He's never seen eyes like this outside of the Dreaming. A rich deep red, redder than roses, redder than blood, with a luminescence to them that added to their unearthly quality, an eye shine about the pupils like that of a nocturnal predatory cat.

He'd never seen anything so utterly appetizing.

"Yeah? How about yours?!"

It was a testament to how entranced he'd been--perhaps more literally--that he was so easily caught off guard by his own trick. In an instant her freed hand knocked his own glasses to the ground.

With a snarl that came from all three of his mouths he threw her onto the ground, slamming her into the asphalt with enough force to crack the rib of anyone mortal, pinning her beneath him, his hands vice like around her wrists and a knee at her throat.

"My, what big teeth you have…" She wheezed out, red eyes staring up in true suprise at his extra mouths, gnashing above her.

Then a razor sharp smile slashed across her face as she added

"Mine are bigger"

And fangs were suddenly sinking into his calf.

The Corinthian bite back a scream of pain, leaping off and away from her in a moment of pure animal instinct.

There was a traitorous part of him that felt like thanking Dream for making him with such good reflexes, or he would have gone the way of all the other Angel of Death's victims a second later as she lunged for his neck.

As it was he dodged just in time, spinning around dagger ready to quip.

"Now now Darlin' at least buy me dinner first."

She'd retrieved her own daggers by now, and their knife fight resumed as they both dodged and kicked and slashed with utter abandon.

"Is that why you slice their throats then?" He asked, spinning around to elbow her in the side.

"To cover up the blood loss?"

He kneed her in the stomach.

"And the bite marks?"

She rallied, jumped and kicked him across the face. His nose was definitely broken now.

"Something like that '' She admitted, aiming her own kick at his ribs.

"Clever girl"

"Don't patronize me"

Slash, parry, kick. Slash, dodge, punch. Again and again and once more. He struck out from a grounded center, she jumped and leapt like an acrobat.

Heh, acro-bat. He thought. That wasn't half bad.

With how equally they were matched in prowess the fight should have come down to stamina, but his inhuman status made it so that he healed quickly from each blow she managed to land, her's apparently did the same.

Finally, when the fight had reached it's three hour mark, they both found themselves on the ground, staring up into the air polluted night sky, panting hard as their bodies stitched up their slashes and knit back their broken bones.

Advanced healing could only hold you up so long before you eventually did have to call it quits for the day, and it seemed they'd both tapped out at the same time.

They lay there for a long moment before the Corinthian finally said, pulling himself up with a groan:

"You wanna get a beer?"

The Angel of Death stared at him like he'd asked--well, what he'd asked.

"We...we just tried to kill each other" She pointed out, logically.

The Corinthian nodded, acknowledging the validity of this and saying,

"Yeah I want a beer"

He got to his feet, tucking his dagger into its sheath and turned to hold out a hand to her.

"You could use one too I think"

She stared at him for another long, long moment, a gamut of emotion racing across her red glowing eyes--before she finally reached up and took the offered hand.

"Fine, but you're buying"

#my writing #CorinthiAna #the corinthian #thanastasia thresher #my ocs #the sandman #dream of the endless #he's mentioned he gets a tag #sandman fic #the sandman netflix

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crstlchrsnthms · 2 years

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god i hate my legs SO much,,, they’re genuinely the worst part of my b0dy you will NEVER catch me wearing shorts ever

#not pr0 4n4 #only pr0 for myself #tw 4n4 #tw 3d #ed bllog #edblrr #an0rexik #anorexsick #th1nz🎀#i wanna be sk1nny #tw ana thoughts

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servin-up-surveys · 2 years

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survey #008

“if there’s a god, why did he let the devil do his work on me?”

Are you currently mad at anyone? Nah, not actively. Do you like drawing on cement with chalk? I loved drawing with chalk as a kid. I mean I probably still would, but my fat ass and inadequately-muscled legs are NOT letting me get on the ground if I want back up, haha. When was the last time you went tanning? I've never deliberately tried to tan because I hate the feeling of heat literally cooking me. Do you like the smell of fresh cut grass? No. Have you ever worked at a party store? No. Are you creative? I think I am and have been told I am. Do you know how to play poker? Haha, it's funny, I did at a certain age as a kid, but now remember nothing as an adult. Do you always wear your seatbelt? Yes, always. Do you sing in the shower? No. Showers are fucking torture for me because of my legs so I get in and get the fuck out as fast as possible, I'm not concentrating on anything else. Have you ever been called a slut/whore/something along those lines? Only playfully by friends, never seriously. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly/didn't even know? Yes. Do you do drugs? No. Where do you want to get married? I have a few ideas. The absolute dream wedding would be in some sort of beautiful gothic building, like an old mansion, in the ballroom. I'll tell you right the fuck now I couldn't even dream of affording a venue like that though, so a more realistic option would be in some autumn woods, maybe by water or even a waterfall. Have you ever made yourself throw up? So, uh... I have tried. At my last job, when I was in the restroom having a panic attack and crying, I stuck my finger down my throat trying to force myself to vomit to give myself an extra reason to go home. And let me add how fucking TERRIFIED I am of the sensation of vomitting, if that helps give you an idea of how severely I was panicking. It didn't work. Honestly I probably would've kept trying if my co-worker hadn't come into the restroom making sure I was okay. Approximately two hours of fucking disaster. Have you ever fallen in love with a really good friend of yours? Haha yeah, I'm dating him rn. Do you own a blacklight? Not to my knowledge. Do you like fruit better than vegetables? Oh, absolutely. Have you ever been expelled from school? No. Do you believe you've met your soulmate or one of them? I don't believe in the concept of "soulmates." When did you last have grape juice? Literally the worst flavor of juice, ugh. I tried some back in March at the hospital because I really didn't want water, but I took one fuckin sip and got some water lmao. Have you learned anything today? Yeah honestly, but I don't wanna write an essay about it. Do you like the smell of coconut? Sure. It's not a favorite or anything, but it still smells fine. Do you prefer longer or short socks? Oh god, I used to be ALL over ankle socks, not feeling the sock stop there drives me FUCK-ING insane, like I can't wear them. I like socks that are at a normal length, really. Not terribly high, not very low. Do you like to leave your window open at night or do you use a fan? I have two fans that are always on in my room. If you find a spider in your home, do you set it free or kill it? I actually haven't been in this position in a very, very long time, considering these days I would want to catch it and let it out. How many pets have you had in your lifetime? I literally couldn't count, especially when we had a cat problem growing up. Do you sunburn easily? Ludicrously easily. What did you get into trouble for as a kid? Mostly for reasons related to being on the computer too much, fighting with my younger sister, and uhhh... idk. I was a good kid. What's something good that has happened here recently? Uh... idk. Like, there's stuff ig, but nothing remarkable. Who did you last say "I love you" to? My boyfriend. When did you last feel beautiful? Ugh I never do. ^ tries his hardest to assure me I am, but I just honest to god don't see what he does. Are you currently frustrated over something? Yeah. I just don't feel like getting into it. Have you ever had a yard sale? Yes. Do you enjoy going to yard sales or garage sales? It's not something we really *do*, but Mom and I both do like looking at random and obscure stuff. Do you like gummy bears? I do, gummy candy is the best. Do you ever get room service when staying in hotels? We barely ever, ever stay in hotels, but any time we have, we haven't gotten room service, to my memory. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom. Sara. Have you ever caught a fish? Many, growing up going fishing all the time with Dad. Can you honeslty say you love the last person you kissed? I can very very confidently say I'm in love with him. What does your last text mesage say? I don't feel like checking, but I think it was Dad sending me a picture from the plane he'd just boarded to go to Michigan (or Ohio?) to see family. What does the last person you kissed name start with? "D," though I don't call him by this name. How many people have you kissed in the last 5 months? One. When did you last have sex? Still never lmao we just haven't gotten to that point yet for multiple reasons I'm not gonna elaborate on. Like we're perfectly comfortable doing it, there are just a number of reasons why we haven't. When did you lose your virginity? ^ Does anyone call you baby? Girt, sometimes. It's not a regular, and I prefer it that way. What do you currently hear? "Armee der Tristen" by Rammstein. It's never going to end y'all Who was your first love? Jason, my high school boyfriend. What would you do if your doctor told you, you were pregnant? Well, given what I just said a few moments ago, I'd tell them they physically couldn't have the right person because I don't believe in immaculate conception. Do you still watch MTV? "Still?" I never did to begin with. Does the person you like know you like them? I make it pretty obvious. If you're dating someone how long have you been together? 10 months. What’s the longest relationship you have ever been in? 3 1/2 years. Do you know anyone who has gotten an abortion? Yes, and I promise you do too. It's not rare. People just don't talk about it because of the stigma. Have you ever kissed in the rain? Yeah. Have you ever spent the night with the last person you kissed? He literally spent the night a couple days ago. He's done it in the past too. I've never stayed at his place yet, though. Do you have a bad reputation? I wouldn't know, go ask people I associate with. Have you ever gone through a bad breakup? *performs Sign of the Cross* Has anyone ever used a cheesy pickup line on you? Idk, maybe. Would you ever want a statue made of you? Uh, ew. Has anyone ever called you dumb? Probably at some point. If we're including myself, then yeah that's like, daily. Do you have any cats? We have one. <3 Sometimes I want one more, but more often I'm content with just Roman, especially considering he would get out-of-this-fuckin'-world jealous. Have you broken anyone's heart? I don't know. Jason chopped me off and out of his life like a gangrenous limb, completely and entirely ceasing contact that I really don't have any way of knowing exactly how the breakup affected him. Tyler ACTED like I broke his heart after two fucking weeks when I can absolutely assure you I did not. He just had insane attachment problems. God I'm glad I said "fuck this, I'm out" when I did. What’s the craziest rumor you’ve ever heard about yourself? I've only ever heard one, which was basically that Jason and I magically had a baby over one summer. It was started by his ex, who had a grudge against me even BEFORE we dated, and she clearly did not think this shit through considering I was very slim in high school and clearly NOT pregnant at any point. Anyway, I'm friends with this person now. Things sure do change, haha. What’s the coolest name you’ve ever heard someone have? Ohhhh let's see... Well, I did have a friend named Journee (like "Journey") which I always thought was a beautiful, brilliant name for a person just going through and experiencing life. I am sadly 90% sure though she committed suicide because of something very serious she was dealing with at way too young of an age. No one should go through what she did, but never mind a child. She confided in me a lot, and during our last few messages, she was saying some concerning things and then just disappeared, permanently. What’s your least favorite genre of music and why? Rap, probably. I just don't like what is typically sung about and just the whole style of it. There are rap songs I love, but in general it's just not for me. What did you last complain about? I actually don't know. Did you ever like nursery rhymes as a child? What was your favorite? I did. I remember liking "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" as well as that "This Little Piggy" one, whatever its proper name is, because it involved Mom tickling me. What do you usually purchase at gas stations? (aside from gas of course) If I get anything, it's likely to be a certain flavor of Mountain Dew, and then I'll sometimes get a sort of candy. Do you drink regular or diet soda? Only regular. The artificial sweetener in diet sodas gives me a headache, but diet is also just gross imo. What’s one of your favorite artists/bands, and least favorite song from them? All right let's go with Ozzy. There are a few of his songs I'm just sorta "meh" about, but if I remember it correctly, I believe I wasn't into "Diary of a Madman" at all. Have you ever seen them live? Bitch I would cry lmao. I would LOVE to see Ozzy, especially with it being so clear he's in his twilight years with all the health issues he's been fighting. Seeing Ozzy live would without a goddamn doubt be a very strong highlight of my life. Mom and I actually WERE planning on seeing him, all the way in Charlotte, but then that tour had to be cancelled due to the arrival of health problems. Can't say I know if he's planning another, but I would think so with a new album in the future. Do you consider graffiti to be true art or just messy? I mean, it can be both. Depends on where it's at, the content itself, everything. What last overwhelmed you? In a recent survey I mentioned that I don't know what really qualifies as sensory overload, but dear god I think I experienced it at Girt's place when Mom and I went there for an early 4th celebration. SO many people were talking about different things and I was trying to be aware and listen to everyone, but it just wasn't possible. I was so overstimulated with all the noise that I literally didn't even process what my mom was eventually saying directly to me; like I just stared at her blankly and had to come back to just me and her to understand anything. What did you last watch on TV? Girt and I were watching a Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach speedrun via YouTube on the TV the other night. We were curious because of the insane amount of glitches in that game how fast you could really do it. Do you know anyone who keeps a Christmas tree up year round? I mean I might, but not that I know of. What’s the strangest video you’ve ever seen? Oh brother, who knows, I've been on the Internet too long. Though I will say I actually haven't seen like... *any* of the notoriously gross and/or shocking videos because I cherish my eyes. They suck, but I cherish them lmao. Have you ever received a present that made you cry? Oh jeez, that's easy to do. Do you know of any haunted buildings in your town? No. I know of a location with false origins that portray it as haunted, but it's just literally not true. What’s the most random song on your playlist that people wouldn’t expect? HAHA at Girt's place, Mom was VERY surprised to learn Brittney Spears is on my iPod lmaooo. When did you last receive a business card from somebody? I haven't the slightest idea. Would you try that Flaming Hot Mountain Dew? ... I do wanna try it... lmaooo. I love both so I mean... leave me alone, haha. When it was first revealed, all the reactions made me feel horrible about myself, ahaha. Do you own any adult coloring books? Yeah, somewhere. What did you last draw or write down? Uh, probably my signature. Have you ever played pinball on a machine or just online? I've played it on machines before. Have you ever had a bad sunburn? I once had sunburn so bad it was actually sun poisoning. It was fucking excruciating.

#lyrics: ''patient no. 9'' by ozzy osbourne #survey #surveys #random questions

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someghostyouare · 7 months

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Dear Boy, Never Cure Me

They say the first symptoms of a crush is thinking. Thinking all the time. I won’t admit it, but it would be an injustice not to say it so. It’s him. Him. I think about him like the world’s next virus.

He’ll pop up in my mind in the best times. On the way to school, sometimes on the way back. It wouldn’t be complete if I couldn’t see him in the worst times. I’ve had the worst cases of daydreaming in the shower. My sister hates that it takes me so long to recover from him in the morning. Even when we’re both trying to be the smart people in class, he’s a constant in the equation to my brain.

The worst part is wondering how long the butterflies last. Is it withdrawal when I look for him in the cracks of sidewalks? Am I falling out of love if his voice stops being my voice of reason? Or am I finally falling out of my insanity? Is it madness when I say he’s source of my wild competitiveness? Is it such a bad thing to be this down bad? If there’s a cure for all of this I’m not looking for it. Being cured is hard when it’s someone like him giving me this fever. The kind of fever I catch from getting a glimpse of his eyes. As dark as mine, and almost emptier.

But when he smiles… My god, when he laughs!

It brings his entire being to life. The short breaths he takes in between, right before losing to his own shrewd sense of humor. He’s shameless when he’s like that. He’ll point out my hunched back and the breathless soundless whistle that comes out of my mouth when I laugh too much. Too proud to even notice his own flaws when he’s as happy as I am.

The shocked face he makes before bursting into fits of giggles. His hands go flying to his own mouth, depriving me the bottom half of his face. I cannot believe how much I want that hand to be mine. Feeling the softness of his lips, stopping him from saying the next stupid thing that we cry laughing about. That’s it, isn’t it? He has this… him-ness that loves infecting me over and over again.

Every word comes out of him dripping with sarcasm. Yet it’s all so genuine at the same time. The brief share of stolen looks and knowing eye contact, it kills me! We mock whisper secrets across conversations from opposite sides of the room. It’s a love language, and it’s a second language I’ve never been so fluent in.

I’ve never enjoyed being sick in my life, but he makes it worth it.

He’ll swing by my classroom and my temperature reaches new records. He walks with me and my legs start cramping. My eyes are suddenly useless whenever we bump each other. Immediately my body loses its balance and my mouth’s no longer as clever as I thought it was. He says to jump, and I jump higher than I ever have. Dancing right off a monument I’ve dedicated to him.

I’ll probably never move on. Never, I tell you. I don’t wish to recover from whatever happens to us when we’re together. I’d drag him with me to wherever I need him to be. Wherever feels right.

As long as its with him, I would run through long white halls. Barefoot as the cold tiles bite on my toes. Rows and rows of doors open while I scream through a tunnel work of halls. The only important sound I need is him laughing right behind me. No amount of needles could unnerve me the way his silence would hit me.

I fly past everyone else catching up to us. Their white lab coats clinging to shapes that were skinny and large. My legs carry me off away from puzzled looks stuck on faces wearing white gowns.

It’s him. Him, again.

I sprint through carts full of funny liquids in small bottles. Right behind it, and behind the nurse lying on the floor, was him. My diagnosis. My boy. It’s him. It’s always him.

#writing #teen writer #creative writing #amatuer writer #aspiring writer #aspiring author #writing community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing exercises #short story #love story #open to criticism #writers and poets

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