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arminsumi · 7 months

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ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

17K notes · View notes

the-merry-otter · 1 year

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If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!

Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.

Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.

[Plain text description:]

First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing

This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!

Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.

[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]

[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]

Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)

Now with nasty pocketses

[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]

So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.

[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]

There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!

[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]

There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.

[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]

Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.

[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]

[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]

Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)

Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.

(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)

[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]

Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).

[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]

[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]

The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.

[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]

Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.

[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].

Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo

[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]

You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.

As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.

[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].

Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.

[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]

A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.

Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.

[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].

Fifth slide: Hair and headwear

Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.

Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.

[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]

[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]

All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.

[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]

I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.

[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].

[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]

Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?

[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].

Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.

[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]

Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods

These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).

Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.

They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.

[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].

[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]

[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].

Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.

Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.

[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]

Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.

Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)

Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.

[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]

Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!

Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!

Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.

[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].

Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.

[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].

[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]

Eighth slide: Accessories

These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.

Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.

[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].

Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.

[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].

They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.

[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].

Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.

[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]

Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.

[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]

Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.

[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]

Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy

There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).

Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.

[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]

[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].

Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.

[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]

Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.

[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].

Brocade gowns! So pretty!

[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]

Fancy sleeves!

[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].

Dresses that were two different colours.

[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]

And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.

[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].

[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].

Tenth (and final) slide: In summery

(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).

Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.

Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.

If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.

If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️

[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]

A list of helpful YouTubers:

Elin Abrahamsson

Morgan Donner

Opus Elenae

Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).

Now go hydrate!!

[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]

#medieval reenactment #historical reenactment #medieval #medievalcore #medieval aesthetic #14th century #sewing #fashion #clothing #history #historical #sca #i’ll be on my merry way now

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tomfoolerytime · 2 years

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i constantly forget tetia and coco have canonically pink and green hair respectively until i see fanart and get startled

#they are blond in my brain #but i also have no clue how riche's name is said or how the the girl's is spelled #i pronounce it agate and riche as ritchy even though i think its more likely rishay #but back to my point tetia is so yellow why is her hair pink i get confused #coco makes kinda sense bc shes a really yellowy green

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calliopesdiary · 10 days

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“you’re too sweet for me”

summary; you partially own your mums coffee & flower shop, so it’s no secret that you’d have a little (big) work crush on a boy whom you only know from his signature on the receipts.

ships; poly!marauders x fem!barista!reader

contents; mild language, reader has long enough hair to tie up into a ponytail, sirius is a flirt

a/n: this is so short but i needed to write something having to do with this song!! part two anyone??

YOU HAD A LOT OF ENERGY for 5:30am.

thirty minutes until opening, you tied your hair up into a pastel pink ribbon.

the soft and crisp spring air pooled into the shop from the open windows, as you set some fresh flowers at your counter.

“ready for opening, dear?”

“yes, mum!”

you responded.

she had certainly noticed your level of chipperness in the mornings had doubled since you started working there, probably because of the young man she’s seen you conversing with every morning at exactly 7:42 am, which was when he always came in.

unless the boy was sick, or busy he’d be in the shop atleast once a day.

“can’t make coffee to save my life, you know?”

he’d always insist.

you heard the bell on the door chime, alerting you of the first guest.

“hi, welcome in.”

you turned around to spot him, and two other boys. odd.. he usually comes in alone.

“new friends, hm?”

you teased, leading him to smile brightly.

“no, they just don’t wake up early enough.”

you nodded, grabbing your pen and paper.

“what can i get for you?”

you were surprised how well you kept your cool, i mean— the other two boys were almost as good looking as he was, and it really made you question yourself.

“i’ll have my usual, darling.”

Sirius— atleast that’s how you thought his name was pronounced— leaned against the counter smugly, as his tall, lanky friend scoured the menu.

“can i have the iced caramel mocha, please?”

the slightly less tall, messy-haired brunette with circular glasses smiled sheepishly.

“do you have almond milk?”

“mhm.”

“okay… can i have an iced matcha green tea latte with almond milk?”

the lanky one finally asked.

“of course, can i get a name for each?”

you fidgeted with the pen in your hand softly.

“Sirius, James, and Remus.”

“how are their names so hot???” “god y/n… you dirty slut, you should not be thinking this way about customers.”

“….your drinks will be ready soon.”

you flashed a small teethy smile as you rushed to go make their drinks.

you brought their drinks out on a tray, and set it down on the table.

“enjoy your coffee.”

you smile softly and begin to walk off.

Sirius gets up to pay, and pulls out some cash.

“there you go, love. amazing as always.”

he winked, and you desperately tried to keep your composure.

“any time.”

he signed the receipt, and as you grabbed his change. you decided to make a bold move.

besides, would him and his gorgeous friends really call the local baristas number she left on the check?

the answer was yes.

#marauders era #remus lupin #fem!reader #sirius black #james potter #marauders #taylor swift #poly!marauders x reader #hozier #barista!reader #Spotify

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ceridescent · 9 months

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carribean summer heat — m., wanda

wanda maximoff x female!reader

summary: it's a lovely sight to see wanda maximoff sweating and blushing due to the tropical heat. sometimes it's tricky, because one moment she looks like a baby, and the next, well...you could ask the particular group of people who...but you suppose not. it's impossible they could have seen the hot flush on her cheeks as she handled you then and there, out in the open.

warning/s: top!wanda, bottom!f!reader, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, dirty talk, semi-public, mommy kink, use of strap-on, creampie, & teasing.

word count: 4, 300

author’s note: hiiiiii hiiii hiiii i'm so happy i finally have some content to post on my rotting account. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ (i did have multiple drafts but i forgot tumblr existed 'cause i had off notifs the whole time since may.) it was a giddy, high school girl crush feeling of me to write this filthy fic. (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ i hope everyone's having a wonderful Hot Girl summer!! or a Hot Slutty summer, whichever you prefer. o(>ω<;)o

18+ only. men and minors do NOT interact.

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the sun rays barely strike your tanning skin, serving only as an illumination toward the breathtaking view of the caribbean sea as you situate on the patio.

three ivory-colored recliner beach chairs are included in the rental villa, wherein you occupy one whilst the woman who flew a helicopter in saint-barthélemy island, makes piña coladas in the kitchen. a few hours ago you woke up earlier than her, and it was a relieving feeling, of hearing the rise and fall of her breath. a pink blush coated her entire face, unused to the tropical weather. hair stuck on the oval of her face, grinning at how baby-ish she looked. you didn’t bother rousing her though, as you were both selfish for being the sole witness of the rising sun behind the full glass window of the villa, and considerate to allow her more time to rest.

not long after though, she woke up moaning your name, rubbing a whole limb on the empty space you left behind.

“you left me,” wanda whined, her eyes glazed and her red lips pouty.

“they gave us fresh coconuts,” you purred, showing her the fruit. helping her sit up on the white mattress, you plant a chaste kiss on her cheekbone. this feels like a true vacation, you thought to yourself, appreciating the beach elements surrounding the entire villa, and the hard-to-miss view of the sea outside. although, the other thing that left you breathless was wanda’s bare breasts, the only clothing clinging onto her body was the thong she changed into right after she showered last night.

you rested the open edge of the coconut in between her lips, “here,” tipping it upward so she could drink the coconut juice. wanda’s eyes fluttered close, a long and pronounced moan gracing your ears. she covered your hands with her own to hold the fruit, gulping the liquid into her parched mouth. she sighed as she finished, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

she suggested, “we can eat the insides for breakfast, honey,” bending low toward the bedside to fetch her matching bra. you blushed at the recollection of last night. “i’m sure they have some honey in the kitchen somewhere…” you added, watching the tips of her peaks disappear into view.

wanda teased, “you like what you see?”, lightly slapping your face in the process in a playful manner. you tried to forget how her plump breasts felt in your hands as you suckled her dry, returning into the present moment of the beautiful day.

“i would like to eat,” you diverted the topic back into the fruit in your hands, which wasn’t successful as wanda raised an amused brow, pursing her lips together to fight back a smile. you pointed to the coconut to counter her silent reproach, giving her a light blush. “get your head outta gutter, ma’am,” you said and retreated to the kitchen before she could come up with a witty remark, which you’d most likely shut her up with a kiss.

wanda hums the tune from maroon 5’s sunday morning as she exits the indoor, clutching a wooden tray filled with food and replenishments. a board of charcuterie sits in the middle of the two piña coladas. you gasp at the precise detailing, “i’m not done,” blinking your eyes in anticipation, revealing a coconut with a straw strapped to the side. wanda caresses your hair, gives you a kiss on the forehead as you look up at her adoringly. “help yourself, angel,” she said before pecking your cheek. you mewl and melt at her service, appreciating the beautiful woman even more.

the drinks are astounding, satisfying your thirst for something cool in this caribbean summer heat, as well as your insufferable stomach—literal paradise—blinding your attention away from the oval-rimmed eyeglasses, but most especially, her gorgeousness in a bikini. “is that-“

wanda maximoff grins like a cheshire cat, “yes, angel, it’s the one you picked for me!” sometimes wanda does it, she sends you a fitting room pic of her in bikinis—and if you were blessed enough—lingeries—needing a different perspective of what looks flattering on her.

this particular bikini that clings onto her glistening skin is a green tie-front bandeau matched with a thin-string bikini bottom that leaves little to no imagination; highlighting the fullness of her hips down her voluminous thigh. her exposed tight stomach that has a small bruise on the side of her belly button, the heavy cups of her chest. you love how wanda never fails to wear something as if she was born with it and that it never leaves her skin.

you don’t realize until later that your mouth hangs open watching wanda cozy herself onto the beach chair next to you, laying it all out for the sea to see.

“oh,” you choke on your own spit, sight glued onto her cleavage. and if temptation could get any worse, sweat trickles down on the valley of it, getting envious (and more) of how close it is to where you want to be. stammering “you look-l-look-so look so marvelous, w-wan,” you gulp down your insistent saliva and grab the cool piña colada, biting hard on the straw as you sip in the flavor to replace the volcano on your tongue, before saying another that would jeopardize this peaceful, sunny day. (although it isn’t bad if it heads toward that direction.)

“you’re sucking so hard on it, princess,” wanda chuckles, “is it that tasty?” facing you now, leaning her weight against her right arm. her cleavage sag toward gravity, you fear it might actually fall off. short-circuiting for a moment, registering her question, her intention, and her innuendo. trying to calculate and rethink your response as you now, gently, sip the straw, sensing the coolness of your throat and skin, staring at the vast sea.

you turn your gaze on her nose, so wanda would think that you are brave enough to have a staredown with her striking olive green eyes. then you take another hard sip, hollowing your cheeks in the process, at the same time moaning loudly, rolling your eyes back. “oh yes,” you sigh, “it tastes so good, wan! would you like some?”

she grins like a proud mother, “yeah,” reaching for the other glass but you swat her hand away. “nuh-uh,” you spurn, shaking your index finger whilst you stand up from the chair. you take three slow, deliberate steps sipping on the cocktail, not breaking eye contact with her. wanda watches every move in a relaxed position, however, her eyes carry primacy and eagerness—she’s like a hawk with it.

you bat your eyes at her as you lower yourself down, dipping one knee on the beach chair in the open space of her glistening legs, at the same time resting the piña colada on the wooden tray. wanda scoots facing you, realizing what is up your sleeve. a shiver runs down your spine when she holds your love handles, positioning you in place. you swear to not have done anything but sit, like a moan, when she plops you down against her lap, her grip on your knees reluctant as if she’s trying not to clench on you too hard.

wanda’s specs tumble out of place for a second ‘cause you clip the loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear, taking your time. she whines, “i’m getting so thirsty!” jerking your body up and down, making your legs quiver, the friction of your cores heating your bundle of nerves.

sticking an index finger against her complaining lips only to pinch her jawbone to force an opening, without saying a word, you connect your mouth with hers, slowly pushing out the piña colada into her “parched” throat.

wanda flutters her eyes close and hums at the sensation, gulping it down, caressing your back in the process. sluggish and soft, fingertips against your shoulder blades. upward your hair, combing through them. and finally, your neck, massaging your nape in circular motions.

when you pull away you return a soft smile, giddy and grateful, reaching for the glass to give her some more. wanda’s wandering hands begin to become playful, toying with your bikini strap, stretching the fabric just to let it strike your skin. you hiss, slapping her hands away, yet she reprimands you with a smack on the ass. you sigh in relief for not having anything in your mouth.

more perspiration covers her milk skin, moaning at the liquid tantalizing her throat, and you who cannot help but bounce against her, the heat crawling through your body caused by not only the tropical heat of the island.

“princess, wanda whines, pushing your hips hard to stop you from bouncing like a bitch in heat, “what is it?” acting as if she doesn’t know what you’re asking for. “do you want to ride my thigh?”

or maybe she does.

nodding eagerly, you slide your hands over wanda’s arms to intertwine fingers, descending to land on her thigh. “don’t let me go,”

wanda shakes her head, relaxed, rubbing her thumb over, “how am i going to play with your nipples then, honey?”

that particular sentence made you grind hard on her, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. it’s all up to you though, so you begin to feel her voluptuous thigh at home between your legs, at home to be used by your needy pussy. “let me play with them, yeah?”

you allow wanda to let go of your hands, although it doesn’t stay dangling and out of place. she puts them around her waist, “there. so you have something to hold on to,” gathering your hair around her grip. “get on it, little girl. give me a great view.”

you do as told.

somehow, you always need wanda’s approval and permission before doing something that includes her, because it’s different with her. you utterly have faith that she would keep you safe, because most exciting things are dangerous. you become your truest, unapologetic self with her, dependent and clueless. wanda adores it, serving you, treating you like a princess.

hoarsely, “there we go, nice and slow for now, huh?” wanda stares at your whole frame, your legs automatically spreading wider, draping over the chair. she bites her lip, dragging her fingers over your thighs, as you increase your pace. you squeal, pressing your clad pussy against her thigh, “that’s what i’m talking about, baby. make yourself feel good for me,” whilst wanda encourages you with hunger.

you whimper, watching her watch you. blood rushes into your cheeks, bowing down to relieve the tension of being under wanda’s gaze, still unused to the pierce of her green eyes. you only look back when she begins fiddling with your top straps, teasing you with her next move.

you believe you know what’s about to happen and yet she lets them go, cupping your tits with her hands, kneading them into her calloused palms. you topple over at the pleasure, and she holds you up with your breasts, almost crushing them. the action causes you to let out a high-pitched whimper, casually rubbing yourself to take off the insufferable itch in your clit.

“oh god,” you sob when wanda pries the cups open without taking the top off, only setting them aside, as if she’s washing off sand from a seashell with her slender hands. “oh, oh!” feverishly you buck your hips, and “wanda!” a scream follows as she steps on her heel, her thigh going on a slope.

“that’s my pretty girl,” wanda husks, “keep moaning for me,” encouraging you. a simultaneous long moan erupts from both of you as she pinches your peaks, rolling them in between her fingers. a hungry grunt vibrates through her before diving into your tit, sucking it full with her mouth. your hand goes straight through her blonde hair, gripping it through the scalp, and then her shoulder where you find better leverage.

“that’s it-“ wanda huffs, “g-good, good, my good girl,” lost in the pleasure of sucking your chest. “yeah baby come for me-“

wanda guides your hips, setting a quick, solid rhythm. she pulses her heel up and down, and then it hits you,

“come for me, pretty girl. come for mommy-“

screaming and thrashing on top of her.

you crash against her chest, quivering all over, moan after moan tumbling out of your mouth, your hips still moving but at their own accord, with wanda’s hands resting on your buttcheeks. wanda hums when you quiet down, the vibration reaching your nipples, grazing you with a scream, cum dripping out of you. “dirty,” you mewl, referring to your soaked and sticky bikini bottom

wanda groans, “all mine,” palming your pussy through it, shoving her lips onto yours. you happily obliged, probing your tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted. massaging them together, suckling, and then nipping her lower lip, brushing your noses together.

“mhm!” you squeal as you pull away, giving wanda a radiant smile. she pinches your cheeks and pecks your nose. “okay then!” she claps her hands together, an eager woman with a plan. she kisses the side of your neck just below your ear. she pulls you away from her, settling you down in between her legs.

she gets up, get cozy, princess, mommy’s just gonna take something inside, okay?”

“mommy,” you whine, “can i come with?”

“no no, princess. it’s a surprise for you, okay? i’ll be back before you know it!” and then she’s gone.

you probably should have added “please” then she would’ve surely brought you in with her. but you do entertain yourself with the little time alone: rearranging glasses back in place, disregarding your wet bottom because wanda would take it off as usual, and finish the cocktail. you also spooned a bit of the coconut’s inside.

a loud chatter pulls you away from your little bubble, a group of people jet skiing echoing through the space. multiple arms wave in your direction, a booming “HELLO” as you wave back, blush coating your cheeks. you push your legs tight together. realizing the openness of the patio, you make a double take behind the place wanda has disappeared off, knowing that there’s more to come out of after your stunt, and most especially that you have brought her dominant side out here.

you drink wanda’s piña colada to pacify your nerves.

wanda isn’t scary, per se, she just gets super duper mega hot and towering—sometimes to the point of la petite mort—but this time the possibility of somebody else kayaking their way into your location makes you palpitate.

kayaking, the deliberate effort of rowing through this calm ocean—the agonizing trail of the canoes—it is something worse than a damn jet ski. this is driving you crazy!

“i’m sorry for the long wait, my darling. mommy couldn’t find it for a while ‘cause she’s thinking about you…”

you take a huge gulp, refusing to look at what's behind you. a hand ghosts on top of the beach chair. “it’s okay, wanda, i like the view here…”

“i know, princess. but it’ll look nicer if you see what mommy packed for you!”

this is her cue to come forward, blocking the peaceful view of the sea, showing her thick strap. you roll your eyes back, trembling all over, making her chuckle at the expected reaction, taking your hand to stroke her cock.

“i love the sound of your whimpers, baby. shows how much effect i have on you,” wanda husks, her desire of giving it to you palpable, because she dirty talks her way into your pussy as she does so. you gasp, “it’s big,” gripping the tip, feeling the faux veins coating the shaft. “you can take it, princess. i know it.”

“i don’t think so…” you dissent, shaking your head, at the same time anticipating it. but surely you can’t take it in you, it’ll hurt so bad. wanda shakes her head and palms your drenched clothed pussy before setting it aside.

she puts a finger in without warning, making you arch your back, a cry “mommy!” leaving your shocked mouth.

“now you’re calling me mommy,” she gives you a disapproving look, but urges you on smiling at the motion of you sucking her middle finger in fully without resistance. “i knew you’d be so wet, so i didn’t bring any lube.”

wanda takes her finger out and puts it in her mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of your cum. “mmm, i might just have to eat you out instead. would you want that, my princess?”

you nod your head rather aggressively, your face contorted in desperation. anything not to take her monster dick. however, wanda must’ve noticed your not-so-subtle calculation because she changes her mind, shaking her head, trying to hide her cheshire smirk.

“no,” she hum, “i think my tongue can wait for this sweet pussy. ‘cause then what’s gonna keep my baby girl’s boobs occupied?”

a squeal leaves your mouth as wanda drags your legs to the edge until it’s draping off the chair. you stick your legs together in the wind, your cum glistening on your pussy. wanda traces the slick that coats your inner thigh, just to get a rise out of you. she bites her lip in anticipation as she lubes her cock with your pussy juice, rubbing the tip over your clit.

“fuck,” she moans, “listen to it,” slapping it the toy against your pussy. “mommy,” you could only respond, already over the whole teasing fit. “please!”

“please what, princess?”

“plea-pl-“

she chuckles. wanda groans as she lines her cock in your opening, “use your words, darling. makes it easier for us,” waiting for you to vocalize.

you fling your hand forward to intertwine them with hers. “please fuck me, mommy. pleaseplease fill meplease!”

wanda whimpers.

“that’s my good girl.”

she enters you slowly, encouraging you to take deep breaths as she spreads your hole, tearing you open to get used to the size. your brows knit together at the sharp pain, mewling at the sensation. wanda peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, distracting you from the initial process, “hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, mommy’s here–mommy will take care of you.”

your “thank you” gets swallowed by her lips, capturing yours in a languid tango, firm and warm in the tropical heat. your eyes flutter close alike battling sleep as, fighting the urge to just stay open because if you stare long enough at wanda’s eyelashes, you would be able to count them, but you settle with feeling it caressing your cheekbone. she breathes you in with each inhale, her hands coming to your cheeks to get a hold of you even more. you let out a keen for the numerous times she bites your lip, sliding her tongue in when you moan at the first thrust.

you break the kiss, “mommy,” giving her a pleading look. “please.”

she presents you a peck and nods her head, “oh yes,” beginning a pace. “is that okay, princess? does it hurt?”

“little only now, mommy. i like it,” you reply, taking her tongue in yours again.

“yeah?” she pulls away from the kiss, “you like mommy grinding down on you?” pushing in her length harder, her pace controlled. you hear the beach chair thud against the movement. your tits bounce at the same time, whimpering, tugging her hand, “faster please-“

“no, no. mommy’s gonna take her time, my love. i need to feel every inch of you before we get back. fuck! i’ve never fucked you in a bikini! it’s been in my bucket list for months now and i could finally-!”

wanda finds her pace, a grunt leaving her, pumping deeper into you, “-do this!” a cry leaving your swelling lips as your back arches in the process, her cock stuffing you full. “thank you, feels so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back, seeing the blue of cloudy skies. you think you begin to drool.

wanda makes an incoherent statement, her lower lip bitten to hold back her moans. a bucket of sweat forms on her forehead, little bubbles that slide down through her forehead and blushing face. her hair tangles in knots like a wet mop, clinging against her back.

her hands slither through your body, tracing patterns on your stomach, playing with your belly button. “you’re welcome,” she sighs, “anything for my favorite lady,” whispering over your ear, her hot puffs making your spine quiver. she nibbles your earlobe.

and your neck, sinking her teeth into flesh, planting a bruise, gripping your waist tight to pull you forward to meet her pounding. “ah fuck, wanda!” you yelp, as she stretches your pussy hole open and full. bucking her hips with no abandon, chasing that high that belongs in between your legs, her primal urge to please you—to hear you scream her name in your favorite vacation spot—to make you come apart only for her to build you back up.

“oh baby, uh,” wanda keens, clipping her hair out of the way of seeing you fucked out, “play with your tits, y/n. come on, please! show me your pretty bits,”

a high-pitched moan sounds out of you from wanda’s desperation, mimicking her movement a sex ago, setting your cups to the side. your fingers shake as you pinch and roll your nipples, your moans getting higher and prolonged the more you tug at them. your whole body spasms, thrashing under wanda who makes it her life’s mission to make you come around her cock.

you hear her chuckle close to your ear, licking a column of your neck, peppering kisses down onto your chest, replacing your fingers with her lips and tongue.

“so hard, so ha-“

“harder!” you sob, jackhammering your hips to meet hers, every snap ending with the sound of your juices thwacking around wanda’s big dick.

“hey, hey, princess look,” wanda slaps your face lightly to catch your attention, at the brink of tapping out, your brain unable to cope up with the situation anymore. you push your hoods open—screaming at the shock—the sight of wanda’s bare breasts bouncing up and down, looking so supple and fresh.

“mommy,” you whine, “i wanna suck you,”

how you managed to let that out you don’t know.

wanda whimpers, “oh baby,” purring as she downs her pace, “here princess,” taking one tit and holding in front of your mouth, “suck mommy good yeah?”

you only nod your head, speaking less to more. your mouth envelops in the hard peaks of the older woman, flicking it with your tongue before you actually suck it. wanda lets out a shaky breath, “y-yeah princess. be a good girl for mommy-“ driving her cock in your wet cunt in one swift thrust, frantic to hear you once more.

“y/n!” wanda writhes, the only leverage she has over you is her hands clenching your sides, “fuck fuckfuck me- mommy’s so close princess-!” screaming along with you.

“mommy, mommy,” you slur, attempting to wrap your legs around her waist but it’s too imposible with the energy you have. although wanda takes notice, helping you, wrapping one leg around her, whilst the other takes your hand the way you intended to in the first place. “yes, princess. mommy’s clo–come with me, please? come with me m’kay?”

repetitive words tumble out of wanda’s lips with the way her mind untangles as well, lost in the pleasure of having you fucked brainless. her tit falls off your mouth when you fling your head back, nearing into your climax. one more thrust—

a familiar loud chatter enters your hearing, pointing toward your direction, wanda noticing the same thing as she pauses for a beat, and before shame could creep into your head, she jolts her hips recklessly, fucking you with a few visitors.

“fuck yeah? we got an audience, baby. better give them our best sho-“

wanda chokes out a sob the same time as you, convulsing and trembling together at the climax. multiple expletives grunts out of her filthy mouth, complementing your sputtering.

wanda screams the same time as you do, crashing together. multiple expletives come out of her filthy mouth, complementing your whiny sounds.

“m-mommy!” you whine, drool dripping out of your mouth, “please–“ wanda grinning down at you, the loud chatter that once was powerful now weak and non-existent. “yes princess?” she purrs, washing the orgasm out of you. “i think you made them shut up, baby,” she chuckles breathlessly, her face red and wet. “but…we’re not done yet.”

you whine, exhaustion already painted all over you. “nope,” wanda pops the p and fixes your disheveled hair. you look so fucked out, not even a workout excuse is going to hide that.

“i just…” wanda takes her time to come up with something, a sugarcoated truth, maybe? or a white lie?

“…i wanna put all my cum inside you,” she lets out quietly, batting her eyes at you.

you cry with your legs spread open and shaking, ropes of cum filling your pussy hole. wanda giggles and moves her cock in a sensual pace, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“i’m so full mommy!”

“so full of my cum! how does it feel being filled with cum, huh, princess?”

you can barely open your eyes at this point, but wanda insists, slapping your face lightly to catch your short attention span. “you like it?”

“yes, mommy. makes me wanna suck you,” you whimper as wanda moans. “i’ll fuck my cum in you some more and then i’ll get to fuck your face?”

“yes, you offer breathlessly, drifting off. she takes your chin so you could face her, “no, no,” giving you a demanding look, “yes what?”

she puts her thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck. “yes, mommy.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wlw smut

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luveline · 9 months

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hey pookie bear❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could do james x reader but enemies to lovers/one bed troupe, i can’t find enemies to lovers with james very often and my mind is craving it. thank you ily❤️❤️

hey!! ily tysm for requesting!!! —you and co-worker!james share a hotel room for the night. fem!reader, 1.5k

James Potter is the most insufferable, arrogant, suffocating boy you've ever met in your entire life, so when you hear you'll be sharing a room with him tonight, you shut down. Total icy silence. If he wants conversation, he can ring one of his irritating mates.

It feels borderline illegal to have your workplace make you share a room considering, but you're adults, and the trip was supposedly all inclusive. Not even the most luxurious per diem could make this worth it, though.

James lays in the middle of the bed, arms behind his head, skin awash by lamplight and hair a dark halo against the crisp white linens. He grins at you and you despise how handsome he is. Handsome, and such a fucking prick of a man.

"Won't you join me?" he teases.

You've kept your vow to ignore him until that point. "Please don't lie on my side of the bed."

He moves over, looking startlingly apologetic. You'd believe he was repentant, but he asks, "What's the point? You'll be in my arms sooner or later."

You nibble the inside of your lip. He agitates you, he irks you, but you know James is a good guy. His irritating mates are the same. When you joined the office, he made sure they all remembered to celebrate your birthday though it'd only been a few weeks. When you fell up the icy steps on the way in one morning, James didn't take the piss. He helped you up into the doorway and frowned at your bloody knees and ripped tights like they physically pained him.

"Do you want to shower first?" you ask.

"I shower in the mornings. Thank you. But I can strip down now if you'd like."

"James, please," you say, rubbing your eyes. You'd usually have something much more biting to say, but you're tired. At the last second, you summon the energy. "No one wants to see that."

He glares at you like he's remembered he doesn't like you.

"Cruel."

He leans over the edge of the bed and pulls a book out of his suitcase where it lays in arm's reach.

"I didn't know you could read," you add.

"Points off for awfulness. Put your jammies on, shortcake, I wanna see what you packed."

He's being a creep to annoy you. It's working. You grab your pyjamas and a change of underwear and leave his presence to the small bathroom for a quick shower. You take your time to dry off. It's too big a wish to have him be sleeping when you emerge, and sure enough, he's wide awake but changed into his own pyjamas, plaid bottoms and a white t-shirt.

"Now I know you're obsessed with me," he says, raising his eyebrows over the pages of his book.

You cross your arms self consciously over your near identical pyjamas, the bathroom door closing behind you.

James waits for you to put your dirty clothes in your suitcase before piping up again. "You look adorable."

"Fuck off, please."

He snorts and kicks the sheets down the length of the bed. Stretching with a groan that makes your stomach hurt, he puts his novel tented down on the nightstand. His glasses are next. He looks different without them but no less handsome. If anything, the eagle shape of his nose is more pronounced without them, as is the little pink scar on his cheek, stark against his brown skin.

"You're an awful roommate," he says decisively, "you use all the hot water, you leave the windows open, as now you're ogling me. I feel rather objectified."

You avert your eyes guiltily. "You might want to take your temperature. You likely have a fever, considering how delusional you're acting."

"Ooh, burn."

Face hot with spite, you push back the sheets on your side of the bed and turn off your lamp. After a second, James turns off his.

"You're not brushing your teeth?" you ask. Your voice lacks a specific bite, fatigue kicking in.

"Did while you were in the bathroom."

"What'd you do with the toothpaste spit?"

"Swallowed it."

You laugh. It sounds much too friendly, and you hate it. "You're disgusting," you mutter.

You slide down flat on your back and pull the sheets over your legs and stomach, more than aware of his nearness and the heat of his body already waiting for you under the thin quilt. He smells nice, this close. Like deodorant, mint, but something else that snags your attention.

You hate him so much sometimes —he steals your pens constantly from your desk, he never offers you a cup of coffee even when he's making them for everyone else, and he's lazy. He doesn't do his third of the finances on time. He nudges his desk into yours to make your small figurines fall over and calls it 'earthquake training'. They're fucking plastic. James Potter drives you up the goddamn wall, and being close to someone like this couldn't be more awkward. You're stiff as a board.

"I was only kidding earlier," James says. He's quiet, but so is the room. He might as well yell. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you if you didn't want me to."

"You gave me a snakebite three days ago."

"I thought you had a bug on you," he says furiously, having had this argument already. "That's not the point. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I'll do that. I have no intention of making you uncomfortable."

"You've already failed, then."

He sighs. "I can go sleep on the floor in Sirius and Remus' room."

"They wouldn't have you in the bed?" you joke lightly. They have a close friendship. It's nice, even though you might pretend they're a throuple whenever single girls visit the office to ruin his chances.

"Oh, they probably would."

"It's fine. Don't… don't bother. It's not a big deal for me if it isn't for you. I know you wouldn't try anything."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. You're a bitch, but I don't believe you're that kind."

James laughs loudly, his chuckles shaking the mattress. You swear you can feel his eyes on your face, though the room is bathed in darkness and the strings of scarce red light blinking from the alarm clock.

"Good. I'm not that kind of bitch," he agrees.

"Well. Goodnight."

"Yeah, goodnight, shortcake."

You roll your eyes at his nickname. Whether your short or tall isn't his concern, James calls you shortcake because he's very tall, and he holds that against you often like a schoolyard tease, papers held out of reach, your figurines hidden in alcoves or on top of cabinets.

You turn onto your favoured side and try not to care that you're facing him. James falls asleep first, his breath slowing until a snore emerges, his weight dipping the cheap mattress. Combined with your own, you start to slide toward one another.

Fucks sake, you think, edging back.

Space reestablished between you, you close your eyes and try not to think about what he looks like when he sleeps. As you nod off, you feel the soft skin of a hand curling around your forearm. A quarter circle rubbed into your pulse.

—

James wakes first, and he is Oh so thankful. He isn't a pervert, he swears, he has no idea why he's curled around you like this. Hugging your arm to his chest like a teddy, his face curved downward, his nose pressed to your forehead, he wakes and he panics hard.

You aren't touching him back. Sunlight filters in through shitty translucent blinds and kisses your unassuming face, your lashes lightened, your lips pointed down in sleep. He worries something's upsetting you while you doze. He bites his tongue.

It's none of his business. None of his business why you're having a restless morning.

James twists and lets your arm fall naturally back onto the sheets, squinting in the sun at the alarm clock. It's barely five AM. You needn't wake for another two hours but you will, if you keep frowning.

James holds his breath. Carefully, he settles back onto his side facing you and cups your face. It feels too intimate, too much. He pulls his hand away after half of a second, opting to take your hand again instead.

He's seen you cry before. Bloody hands and knees, humiliated and cold, you'd sniffled on the steps leading into the office and asked him not to tell anyone. Remus and Sirius know everything there is to know about James. His genuine but waning dislike for you, his budding crush. And yet, after pretty much a lifetime telling them every secret he'd ever come into contact with, James didn't tell them about that. He gave you the packet of tissues from his pocket, and he told you a lie about falling in the exact same place a year before you started working with them.

The expression you gave him then is the same you wear now as he rubs the palm of your hand with his index fingers. You're comforted. Your unseen unhappiness abates.

James falls asleep like that, drawing shapes into your hand.

—

i love him i want him to be my office frenemy. ty for reading!! pls reblog if u enjoyed it means so much to me!

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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kvtie444 · 4 months

Text

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

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nayziiz · 1 day

Text

Come Home | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky of Monte Carlo, she sat alone in the cosy living room of their apartment, her fingers anxiously tapping on her phone screen. It had been several weeks since she last felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a protective shield against the world's chaos. Work commitments and race weekends had kept them apart for longer than either of them had anticipated, and with each passing day, the ache of his absence grew more pronounced.

The apartment felt emptier without him, his laughter no longer echoing through the halls, his belongings neatly tucked away in drawers and closets, waiting for his return. She longed for the simple pleasure of having him home, to share mundane moments that held a special magic when they were together.

After a particularly exhausting day at work, all she craved was the solace of his arms, the reassurance of his presence. She had tried calling him several times throughout the day, but each attempt went unanswered, his phone seemingly out of reach. Anxiety gnawed at her insides as she imagined all sorts of scenarios, her mind spiralling with worry.

Perhaps he had gotten caught up in meetings or encountered unexpected delays on his journey home. Or maybe his phone had died, and he was currently en route, completely unaware of her attempts to reach him. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her concern morphed into a deep-seated fear, a nagging voice whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.

Unable to sit still any longer, she rose from the couch and began pacing the length of the living room, her heart pounding against her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each unanswered call a sharp stab of disappointment.

But just as despair threatened to consume her entirely, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock filled the air, and her breath caught in her throat. With trembling hands, she rushed to the door, flinging it open to reveal the silhouette of the man she loved, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

Before she could utter a word, Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace, his arms providing the sanctuary she had been yearning for. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a silent embrace.

“I'm so sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier,” he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re home, that’s all that matters,” she assured him.

“I’ll always come home to you, baby,” he told her before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

And as she melted into his embrace, she knew that no matter how far apart they may be, they would always find their way back to each other, their love serving as a guiding light through even the darkest of nights.

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jobean12-blog · 2 months

Note

Okay, but Javi Peña in tight swimshorts/briefs and in sunglasses only. On the beach with you.

Island Time

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 960

Summary: You convince Javi to take a much deserved and needed vacation and he couldn't be happier he agreed.

Author's Note: EVA! YESSSSSS! As soon as I read this I was thinking how absoltely yummy he is and how this would be a dream. Thank you so much for sending this delicious thought my way! Hugs and love 💕💕 Enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet softness, flirting, fun and tension, some spice too :)

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Have you seen my cover up?”

You ask the question from the bathroom, peeking your head around the doorframe to see Javi looking through some clothes on the floor.

“Here,” he says and holds out his pink short sleeve button down.

“That’s your shirt Javi.”

“I know angel but it’ll work just the same,” he smirks.

“You just love seeing me in your clothes.”

“Fucking right I do,” he answers.

You walk out of the bathroom and he sucks in a sharp breath, quickly tugging his shirt away when you reach for it.

“Hey! I thought I was wearing that.”

His lips part as if to speak but instead he just stares at you and lets his gaze sweep down your body, lingering on every curve.

“I forgot I already wore it,” he murmurs. “It’s probably dirty.”

“Good,” you start. “Then it smells like you. Gimme.”

“Baby why would you cover up?”

He looks you over again.

“I need something in case we go off the beach or I want less sun.”

“But…fuck.“

His fisted hand traces the line of his upper lip as he steps closer, taking you in his arms and sliding a hand down your back and over your ass.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Javi,” you murmur against his lips. “Why would I want to do that?”

His grip tightens and he pulls you flush against his hips.

“How am I supposed to go down to the beach now?”

The pronounced thickness that pushes against your stomach makes you roll your hips.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.”

Your lips ghost over his then trace the sharp edge of his jaw, now lined with an uncharacteristic dark shadow before pressing to the spot just below his ear.

With a soft kiss you whisper, “let’s go. Time for sun and sand.”

Using his dazed state to your advantage you walk out of his hold and take his pink button down with you, throwing it over your shoulders as you saunter for the door.

He follows behind with a string of curses and smacks your ass, hard.

Your toes dig into the warm sand and you sip your drink as you watch Javi break the surface of the pristine water. His skin glistens under the sun, the droplets of salt water running down his body and making his bathing suit cling to his thighs…and everywhere else.

He sees you blatantly staring and grins, crooking a finger your way.

When you reach the water he takes your hand and pulls you deeper until you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Now who’s a tease?” you ask as you brush the dark strands of wet hair from his forehead.

“Your existence is a tease,” he murmurs, trailing wet kisses across your shoulder. “And if we were alone on his beach I’d be buried so deep inside you right now.”

Your nails scratch down the back of his neck and you press yourself closer.

“Think of it as foreplay,” you whisper breathlessly into his skin.

He hums against your lips before kissing you slow and deep, the action eliciting a feeling of floating that’s only amplified by the weightlessness of the water and the gentle sway of the waves.

“How the hell am I supposed to get out of the water now?” he groans and adjusts himself in his shorts.

You giggle and detach yourself, floating away until your feet touch the sandy bottom. You slip under the water and break the surface like a mermaid, turning and saying over your shoulder, “lucky for me I’m already soaked so no one can tell.”

With a growl of your name he sends a playful splash your way before he disappears under an oncoming wave.

Once you’re seated comfortably on your chair you wait for him to come out of the water, savoring every inch of his sun kissed wet skin and the way his damp shorts cling to everything.

The sun’s warmth starts to fade as it dips below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in colors of pink and orange. Javi has you sprawled out next to him on the towel, every inch of your bodies touching as he runs his fingertips along the curve of your spine.

Your own fingers graze his chest before sweeping lower and brushing through the trail of hair below his belly button.

He grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, tracing your knuckles with his lips.

“Meet me in the cabana in five minutes,” he says.

As he gets up he gathers your things and starts for your villa. You watch and stare, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

Less than five minutes later he shoulders past the hanging canvas that keeps the inside of the cabana private, his pink shirt hanging in front of his legs.

When he drops it to the sand your eyes track the movement but stop on the bulge between his legs. You breathe out his name and reach for him from your plush lounge chair. He covers your body with his and settles between your legs.

His movements are slow and torturous as he caresses every inch of you with his lips and hands.

“Javi,” you whimper, “I need you…now.”

He slides a hand lower, between your thighs, and murmurs, “I need a taste first. I’ve been hard all fucking day for you, waiting. Just a taste…”

He moves to a kneeling position and peels the bathing suit from your body, cursing under his breath when he takes you in.

“You’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispers as he lowers himself down. “Now come on angel, I want those knees pointed at opposite ends of the beach.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut

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kana-de · 7 months

Text

★ summary: scaramouche x fatui!fem!reader. you lost some important documents, and now he's giving you a punishment.

☆ cw: nsfw(?). drabble. this is either nsfw or really, really suggestive. spanking. mention of reader wearing a skirt. scara's a bit rough. idk what else to write, there's not much of anything else. 717 words.

"speak." scaramouche's stern voice can be heard behind you.

you don't think you're able to talk right now.

you're settled ass up and bent over his knees, your skirt slid down to your ankles, your lacy panties still on - as if upon seeing the garment he decided that he'll keep it on for his advantage. your flushed face was hidden in the crook of your folded hands that rested on the bedhseets. you didn't have the strength to look back at him even once.

"i thought i said something." scaramouche spoke again, firmly spanking your red buttcheek once more - is this... fifth ot sixth time? you forgot to even count. you barely hold back a mewling gasp from the sharp pain that muffles by your position.

you knew your mistake, you know you did something wrong, and this was the punishment.

a perfect punishment, in fact. but an embarrassing one.

"i-i'm sorry!..." you mutter, head slightly tilting to the side for him to, at least, be able to hear you. "you know i really a- ah!.."

"i've heard that already." he hisses, his palm hitting another one of your asscheeks yet again to shut you up, hearing another small yelp that you couldn't hold back in time, his palm now rubbing the skin he had just hit. to prepare you for more or to comfort you - you couldn't know exactly. "didn't you say you'd be more responsible?"

"i- i did, but it was-"

"no buts." he cuts you off, and another skin slapping sound is heard as he speaks. you whine, starting to writhe, but his other hand grabs you under your belly and steadies your hip with a frim grip on it.

your face buries even more in the crook of your hands as you understand just how damp is the cloth of your panties. embarrassing.

"i only asked you to deliver some documents to pantalone. it's been two days. where are the documents, [name]?" he pronounces every word in a serious tone and with pauses, emphasizing every and each one.

he frowns when you don't reply.

"i. slap can't. slap hear. slap you. slap." scaramouche smacks your buttcheeks one by one, one spank after each word.

oh, how scara loves seeing the pink and irritated flesh on your ass go ripple after each time his palm spanks you. and gods he loves hearing your cute little mewls, whimpers and yelps every times he smacks your sensitive skin. and he doesn't even try to deny that now that he thinks about it, it's not a punishment anymore - he's doing all of this just for your reactions. and he damn well knows from the damp cloth of your panties you're enjoying this too, a little too much.

"i- i lost them, okay?!.. i just lost them!..." you raise your high-pitched voice a bit for him to be able to hear you properly, your head doesn't move from its position, your flushed face remains hidden in your hands and hair.

scaramouche goes silent. this is when you tense up.

"...repeat yourself." he says after a small pause, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. his palm laid flat on one of your rosy buttcheeks, as if warning you. you swallow.

"i... i lost the documents.." you mumble, now a bit more quietly. "l-look, they might be somewhere in my drawe- aah-!..mmn-"

"you little minx," he growls, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back to see your face. you yelp, hands coming to grab the bedsheets to keep steady, eyes focused on him, lips slightly parted. "i thought we've already talked about that, [name]."

"i know, i know, i-i'm sorry, scara!.." you say, eyebrows knit together in a sympathetic look. he knows damn well you absolutely love it when he pulls on your hair, so he tugs on your hair once more, making you face him and let out a small, shaky whimper.

"a simple "sorry" won't do it, and you know it." scaramouche leans in, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine immediately. he slaps his palm across your buttcheek again, reminding you who's in charge here.

"i hope those pretty lips of yours still remember how to beg properly, because you'll definitely need that knowledge right now."

#scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #wanderer smut #kunikuzushi smut #genshin impact smut

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

Text

analysis (; — hashira men

Author’s Note: took this not-actually-a-prompt and got carried away heh... 😌

analysis (; — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader, oral, spit, squirting

Thirst Fulfilled: I NEED someone to settle an argument between me and a friend-

Do you think sanemi has a big [redacted]-

Because I KNOW he is packing a huge one.

Ps I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to ask 😭

~faqs~

Update as of 12 May 2023: A foreword that these headcanons are first and foremost indulgent !! 😌 They are not intended to be realistic. They’re supposed to be fun. Hot. 🥵 Within the realm of possibility, but not ~normal. 😉

Dick so big it has him blushing 🤭

—I mean, c’mon: Look at him 😳

That being said, it’s also very pretty — not monstrous or scary (besides its size heh)

A nice, rounded head that oozes precum throughout foreplay, sensitive and rosy pink as you flick your tongue across it, thick and heavy balls tightening at the breathy moan in your throat

A delicate vein curves from its base to the underside of the tip, thankfully not too pronounced, bc it’ll stretch you out enough regardless

Speaking of stretch…

Your fingers can barely wrap around its girth — it’s much easier to drool and lap at the shaft than commit to anything close to deep throating (unless your jaw stamina’s through the roof 👀)

Doesn’t exactly groom himself, but that isn’t too much of an issue since it’s not like his pubic hair’s getting in your way too often (re: dick too huge to regularly deepthroat)

As for length, Gyomei’s in the ball park of ~reasonable (10 inches when erect), but it still requires a hell of a lot of prep before you’re fully seated on his cock, ass flush against his flexed thighs while large, sweaty hands grip your hips in a feeble attempt to restrain himself from immediately thrusting into your dimly throbbing cervix

“This okay?” he murmurs, thumbs pressing firmly into the softness of your skin, low groan caught in his chest at the suffocating heat of your pussy, your shaky, faintly pained breaths keeping his desire in check

“Take as much time as you need,” as you use his stomach to steady yourself, muscles rippling beneath your palms

“You feel wonderful,” whispered gently—patient as ever—even as he longs to raise your trembling body up and almost off of his cock, only to fuck the air out of your lungs w/ a single, smooth drop of your wanton weight, unsuspecting wail music to his ears as you convulse in orgasm at the overwhelming pressure of his cock stuffing your puffy walls

Obanai’s closer to average, but he isn’t small (at least, his dick isn’t 😆 #short king)

Def a grower, slim, veiny shaft elongating (to ~6 inches) as you stroke him w/ a practiced flick of your wrist

Not exactly related to his dick, but he also def growls during foreplay, needy and eager to melt into you and to ruin you — just depends on his mood, yanno?

His head is the kind of head that you almost wanna chomp 🤗, all squishy, bulbous, and fat, quickly reddening and weeping precum, making a mess of your fingers

Perfect lubrication for touching yourself while sucking him off, gleam in his eyes at how filthy you are

Typically can’t be bothered to trim his pubic hair, but it doesn’t get especially long anyway — more so coarse and curly

His shaft doesn’t stretch you out significantly, sliding easily into your slick heat, hovering above you as his hands keep your legs parted widely, “You like being splayed out for me, hm?” pinching lightly at your inner thigh, grinning smugly as you whimper contently, “My precious plaything.”

But it (his shaft) does have a wicked, upward curve, tip grinding firm and repetitive against the spongy bundle of nerves deep in your pussy

And its veins 🤤

What he lacks in girth, he makes up for in texture

Plus, Obanai 11/10 fucks aggressive and erratic, pubic bone flush to your clit, friction delicious and constant as he thrusts full force into your hole, sweat dripping from his brow onto your clavicle, his eyes narrowed in lust and passion, balls slapping sticky against your asshole, less concerned about hurting you since he’s aware that he isn’t ~the biggest guy on the block

Altho, if he’s tired, then he lowkey enjoys you on top, edging him w/ every slow and steady undulation of your hips, your tits pressed warm and hot to his chest as he clings to you and the squelch of your cunt

For whatever reason, my immediate thought was: Raging! Hard! On! 😂😍

Kyojuro’s absolutely packing, but still decently proportionate to his stature (177cm aka 5’10”)

—Bc, contrary to porn-pular belief, comically large dicks hurt 😒💀

8 inches erect, and a sizeable bulge when flaccid

—Never thought I’d use this term, bc (imo) it’s hot when I’m horny, but 🥴 when I’m ~sober 😆…

BREEDER BALLS

As much as Kyojuro loves worshiping your pussy, he might love when you worship his balls more 🤭

You kissing, sucking, licking his balls while he jerks himself off = 100% orgasm guarantee

Drooling on his shiny, reddening tip, your spit trickling down between his fingers, making a mess of your lips as you return to fondling his balls w/ your mouth?

110% orgasm guarantee

Prefers cumming on your tits, btw — will stave off his orgasm until you can get ~in position ☺️

Nothing like an even messier round two 😎

Bc, ofc, he is more than happy to reciprocate the pleasure 💞

W/ enough girth to warrant a gradual sinking (vs an abrupt thrust to the hilt), his shaft fills you breathless, its last couple of inches just barely fitting into your heat

“Can’t believe you’re already hard again,” you giggle delightedly, eyes hazy as he smears his cum across your nipple, throbbing head pressing deeper into your pussy, “You’re insatiable, I swear.”

A heady groan is his only response, gaze bright and attentive as always, reaching for your hand, dipping your thumb into his cum splatter, tasting himself on your skin as he maintains eye contact

“Fuck,” you gasp, pussy clenching at his nonchalance, tongue swiping subconsciously along your bottom lip

“Taste?” he offers, enthusiastic tone muted by the determined pressure of him lapping at your other nipple, his cum bitter and warm as he kisses you sloppy and needy, grip gentle on your jaw as he inhales your scent

And then you whisper Umai!

One word: brutal 😵‍💫

Not bc he’s ridiculously hung (i.e. Gyomei), but bc he’s ridiculously good (at using his dick)

—I actually headcanon Sanemi being a ~bashful virgin (sex can be intimate, and intimacy can be scary, but he loves you, so if that means being soft and scared w/ you… then he’s willing to go there 🥺🤍), buuut once he’s comfortable/well practiced?

—😈😈😈

Not much of a show-er when flaccid (and absolutely, positively shriveled when cold 😂), but an ideal 7 inches when erect w/ girth in between Gyomei and Kyojuro (slimmer than Gyo, thicker than Kyo)

His tip seems to get ~angrier the longer you tease him, going from an almost cute pink to an engorged, lustful red — def the hardest part about fitting him in your pussy, breath catching every time he finally slips into your dripping hole

Which, he has to get you dripping before attempting to penetrate, or at least use lube, bc rushed sex + his dick = not super enjoyable

Alternatively, he’ll facefuck you to get his dick wet enough for your pussy, 7 inches manageable, albeit veering on unpleasant, your nails digging into his flexed ass as he shoves himself languid and satisfied into your mouth, head twitching and leaking precum down the back of your throat whenever you gag on his length

“Watch your teeth,” he grunts lowly, tugging warningly at your hair, swallowing a moan as his cock muffles your whimper, eyes watering at his roughness, “Don’t make me gag and choke you,” calloused fingers brushing soothingly—promisingly—at your neck

In terms of pubic hair, he keeps it neatly trimmed, but not clean shaven: he likes hearing—seeing—the filthy mess of your saliva, tears, and precum as he fucks up and into your pussy

“Is this fast enough for you?” he snarls, your body balanced precariously atop his pelvis, grip nearly bruising on your hips as he smirks knowingly, “Obviously not,” pace frenzied as you moan raggedly, “If you’re still moaning like a whore, then it isn’t fast enough.”

Feet shifting beneath him in search of a different angle, grin triumphant and deadly as you shout silently, head tilted backward, tits bouncing in mesmerizing sync w/ his thrusts

“There we go,” he murmurs, balls tightening at your fucked out expression, “There’s my perfect cunt, squeezing all pathetic and hopeless around my cock,” stamina never ending, pussydrunk on the feeling of you, “Can’t wait for you to cum on my cock, gonna make this cunt so fucking sloppy.”

The prettiest dick 😭

—Ik I mentioned Gyomei’s dick being pretty too, but Giyuu takes pretty to another lvl 🥺

Aka Giyuu has the Goldilocks Cock™ 💀

Just shy of 7 inches, w/ thin veins that curl neat and yummy around his shaft — which, btw, is thick enough to have you pushing on his shoulders Slowly, p-please as the tip catches on your entrance, his eyes hooded and glassy as he ignores you in favor of thrusting in further Sorry not sorry at all You feel so g-good

A faint shudder trembles down his spine, pooling in his groin, traveling along his girth, head twitching in the viscous grip of your heat

Maintains a tidy patch of pubic hair, delicate happy trail tantalizing and subtle whenever he stretches 🥱

As for his balls… once again: Goldilocks Balls™ 🤤

Optimally sized for sucking into your mouth, hanging beautifully even, downy hairs tickling your nose as he cups the back of your head, quiet groans spilling from his cherry bitten lips as you glance toward his fluttering lashes, your vision obscured by the muscle of his tensed inner thigh

Giyuu’s fave position?

—for these headcanons, at least 😆

Cowgirl 🤠 #yee #haw

Your pussy clings to his shaft like a greedy vice, creamy essence smearing from your swollen folds to his lower abdomen, tits presented as you arch backward, using his legs to steady yourself as you fuck yourself on his (perfect) cock

“Touch yourself,” he demands softly, spreading your asscheeks w/ surprisingly cool hands, easily supporting your weight, eyes closing at the satisfying smack of your skin bouncing against his

“Touch yourself till you cum,” his biceps hardly straining as you chase your orgasm, rhythm smooth and delectable, “I want to feel you fall apart,” murmured slick and gentle, in stark contrast to the lewd squish of his balls tapping your asshole

“C’mon sweetheart, fall apart for me, so gorgeous on my cock, love feeling you gush all over me.”

—I pondered long and hard about Tengen’s dick (both puns intended 🤗)

—Lemme organize my thoughts for a sec…

—Girth (from wide to slim): Gyomei, Tengen, Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyuu, Obanai

—Length (from long to ~short): Gyomei, Tengen, Kyojuro, Sanemi, Giyuu, Obanai

In other words, as the second tallest, Tengen also happens to be the second biggest 🙃

—I initially considered putting him behind Kyo in terms of length, but 198cm aka 6’6” vs 177cm aka 5’10”... the math just wouldn’t have mathed 😆

Erect, Tengen measures a solid 9 inches, and if Obanai’s dick is veiny, then Tengen’s dick = veins GALORE 😵

“Even my dick is flashy! 😎” “It has ✨decor✨!”

His shaft bends slightly downward (blame gravity — his dick’s so fucking heavy 😌), so certain positions can be a bit tricky, but damn if he doesn’t rearrange your insides 🤪

Def enjoys being the center of attention, fucking slow and confident into your stretched out hole, dirty talk muffled by Makio’s thighs as he maintains a steady rhythm licking her folds, Hina’s index finger slim and practiced as she stimulates your clit, Suma’s tongue gliding wet and hot against Tengen’s taint

“What was that?” Makio coos, eyes twinkling as she grinds firmly onto Tengen’s mouth, “We can’t understand you dear,” squealing when he smacks her tits, “You seem a bit preoccupied, try speaking up.”

“S-shit,” you gasp, gripping Hina’s hand, pressure building as Tengen thrusts sharply into you, “D-don’t encourage him Makio,” whining as Hina latches onto your nipple, sucking lightly

“Why not?” Makio giggles, ass wiggling playfully, “Can’t take it?” knowing all too well that, ultimately, your pussy’s paying the price for her teasing

“Hm, you’re so messy babe,” Suma sighs contently, pausing her ministrations to kiss Tengen’s thigh, lips shiny w/ spit and your essence, “Seems like you want Makio to encourage him.”

Hina nods in agreement, eyes narrowed devilishly, twisting your other nipple, “Her clit’s throbbing,” spoken w/ unbearable casualness, “I think she’s going to cum.”

“Are you going to cum?” Tengen asks conversationally, finally taking a breath from Makio’s pussy, engorged tip twitching in your cunt, “I’ve hardly ruined you, and you’re already spasming on my cock.”

“T-tengen,” you whimper, clenching at his taunting tone, falling forward, cheek smooshed into Makio’s back, “So fucking d-deep,” stuttering as the new angle forces his fat head flush to the entrance of your cervix

“Think we can get her to squirt?” Tengen hums smugly, a hypothetical question, really, as you begin convulsing, pussy gushing messily onto his stomach, Hina’s hand glistening, ignoring your meek mewls of T-too much! as she continues rubbing your clit, Suma lapping at your cum as it coats Tengen’s balls, trickling between his asscheeks

#hashira x reader #headcanons #modern au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #himejima gyomei #gyomei x reader #iguro obanai #obanai x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

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softshuji · 23 days

Text

𝟏𝟎:𝟎𝟏 | 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈

Title: The Hanma's

Summary: Hanma and you know those intimate moments are few and far between. But you always find a way to make the most of them. Back to masterlist here!

Cw: fem!reader, established relationship, reader and Shuji have kids, some suggestive content, pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, princess, mama, doll),some mentions of violence, this is kinda self indulgent lol. Reblogs appreciated!

Hanma Shuji has a morning voice like no other. It’s gritty, rough, laced with the aftermath of disuse and sleep, cigarettes and alcohol. It’s gravelly, inflected with the slight slur of fatigue, but it rolls over your body in such a way that makes the heat in your stomach thrum with energy.

He swears the nights are deliberately shorter when he’s at home.

The mornings arrive too fast and the covers are pulled too quickly and he winces a little when the cold draught slips past the door left ajar and he thinks this is maybe the karma for spending so much time at work and never enough at home.

He pulls the blanket over his head and groans, his head of tousled curls now lopsided and flattened against the soft downy pillow.

Your arms come around him instinctively, your breath warm against the pronounced clavicles, the hollow of his throat flexing when he swallows.

The sleep grit is crusting in the corners of his eyes and he pulls up one hand to rub at them, the other pulling you closer against his chest, secretly relishing in the sigh of contentment he hears when you press a chaste and soft kiss to the dip in his collarbones.

‘Mmh Shuji,’ you say, your voice caught in the confines of fabric and cotton and sleep. The nicotine and alcohol, gunpowder and metal has left a scent on his skin, imprinted into the fine hairs that dance along his navel and you brush a hand along the toned ridge of his stomach, the muscles flexing under your soft touch.

He loves this part of coming home the most, (among other things). The part where you sigh, his name leaving your parted lips and it sounds like a promise, like a heady rush of adrenaline, and your murmurs against his neck are the food for his daydreams in his absence.

‘Don’t wanna get up.’ A mumble that kisses your cheeks like a breeze, an inked hand snaking its way around the small of your back, past the harsh bruises, purpling spots that are red and pink smudges on your skin left just a few hours before under your loose shirt, past the bite marks that now rub against the swell of his bicep when it comes to rest on your shoulder.

‘I know, but you gotta. We said we’d take them out, remember?’ Despite this, you make no move to leave, opting to bury your face in the curve of his neck, your lips moving over the telltale marks you’d left of your own, still lightly singing with a pulse of barely perceptible pain. Because Hanma Shuji knows you are as insatiable as he is, that your appetite for each other knows no bounds, that you drown in each other nearly every night, climbing out of the current when you come down from your high only to throw yourself in again.

‘Mhm, you're giving me orders now Sweetheart?’ And the other inked hand comes to tilt your face to his, a thumb brushing the stray eyelash on your cheek, parted lips forming an O that he thinks is worth dying for. He thinks you are worth dying for, a single avenue of repentance, his single saving grace.

You frown and tut under your breath, rolling your eyes in mock exaggeration, all faux annoyance and indignation. ‘You promised.’ You poke his side for effect, and it’s pathetic to admit your heart does a tiny leap when he giggles, teeth nipping at the flesh of your ear.

‘I know , I know, ‘m getting up birthday girl.’ And he cracks his eyes open to see you swirling a pattern onto the ink of sin, your eyes lidded and brow pinched as you fight the sleep still threatening to take you under. I love you, painted with your finger onto the same hands that the blood splashes on when he pulls a trigger, crusted under his nails and harder to wash off since the day he had met you. And smiling, always smiling at him, no matter how bad, no matter how many times he knows he breaks your heart.

'Birthday girl huh?' you say now, a teasing and sleepy grin curling at your lips as you rest your cheek in his upturned band, big palm coming up to brush at your cheek.

'Mhmm, my Princess's special day isn't it?'

'It is, you got something planned for me?'

'Might do, I guess you'll have to wait and see won't you?'

You feign a tut under your breath. 'No clues?'

'No, be patient Pretty Girl.' And he brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek, presses down on your lips till your teeth lightly bite down on it.

'Mhm please?' You say now, a hand moving to rove over his bare chest, fingers tracing the whirl of fine hairs on his navel before he's catching your wrist between his thumb and forefinger, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the inside.

'Behave yourself Sweetheart.'

You huff playfully and It hits him for the barest of moments, how often he comes close to losing this. How the blood he’s wrought could catch up with him one day, the pile of bodies he has gladly crushed to reach his desires could grab his ankle and pull him down and that would be it. And you would break trying to put yourself together again. Maybe it’s selfish to keep you knowing that, knowing he could be cut from you like a loose end any day now. But, he is insatiable with you, redeemed by the constancy and feel of you when the weight is heavier than usual, when the burden threatens to-

‘Shuji?’

‘Mhm?’ His eyes are pulled to yours again, your bare face free of makeup, lips soft and warm and just as inviting as they usually are.

‘You were lost in thought for a second. Everything okay?’

He knows you mean it from the heart, the heart you carry for the both of you, a necessary recompense for the blessing of being his, because a man like Hanma Shuji won’t get far carrying his heart on his sleeve. So you do it for him.

‘Fine Sweetheart,’ he says and tucks it all away, the insecurity, the thoughts, the edge that has softened since knowing you, cut glass that no longer stings or slices when touched. Today is about you, he thinks. His Princess, his Pretty girl, and all the ways he can show you he knows it all- the things you do, the ways you care that he never mentions, hair swiped back when he bleeds out on the sofa, towels pressed to his forehead as he mumbles in fitful sleep.

And then it happens.

The door flies open and your head lifts to see your two springy children burst into the room, their curls bouncing as they race across the carpet.

They climb onto your bed, all short limbs and smiles and toothy grins, giggles and onesies and smelling of sleep, and they jump into your arms, tucked safely between you and the man you love the most. He laughs, full and beautiful, laced with the sluggishness of the sleep that’s still threatening to pull him under and pulls all four of you safely to his side.

You look at his hands as he playfully tosses your daughter into the air, her giggles and grins matched by his, and you think of all the blood and grit they’ve seen, all the splashbacks and gunpowder that he’s washed off in grimy bathrooms to come back to you time and time again. The same hands that now hold your children with a gentleness he doesn’t know he’s capable of, hands that hold yours and trace circles along the knuckles. In the safety of these four baby blue walls, with the sunlight pouring in through the slat in the window, falling onto the baby blue carpet, it is almost easy to believe you are just like any other family.

‘How’s my little man?’ Your Husband says and winks conspiratorially at your son nestled into your side.

‘Are we still going out today? You promised!’ Your son says, a frown creasing tiny brows that look so much like his Father’s that it knocks the wind from your chest. It’s almost terrifying to see the resemblances sometimes, the dark tousled curls that bounce when they pull their heads through tiny shirts, golden eyes that swirl just shy of copper. Both your twins that is, spitting images of their Father come to life and a sprinkling of you somewhere in the middle. If you were to ask him, he'd say they looked more like you. You and your winning smile and all the light it brings that now lives safely in their tiny hearts.

‘I don’t know, have you been good for Mama? Both of you? It's her birthday y'know,’ he says and grins when they nod fervently, pleading eyes that turn to you to back their statement, wrapping their tiny arms around you with a whispered 'Happy Birthday Mama,' and It occurs to him, at moments like this, how greedy he has been to ask and want something that he’s spent so long denying to others. To grab at a life, snatch it from death’s hands, and take it for himself. He has a polaroid of the four of you in his wallet somewhere, behind cards and receipts, numbers of mob bosses, gang leaders, other people whose crimes are too heinous to name, and you safely at the back, tucked away for him and him only, as if this simple act is enough to protect you from the spray of bullets and contents of shady clubs.

‘Come on kids, go get changed.’ And your children scurry off, scrambling off the bed to run to their rooms, excitedly chattering, their curls disappearing through the doorway, voices high with laughter.

He flops back onto the bed and reaches absent-mindedly for the glasses thrown haphazardly onto the bedside table the night before, running a hand down his tired face. It never fails to feel foreign to him on days like today. When the sun is at its zenith, the watery bask of its light leaking into the room, and he wonders at what point his priorities changed, what point he started to think of you more often than he wanted to admit, some time in the past when he was younger and sporadic and chaotic. And while it hasn’t left, that zing of boyhood curiosity, wonderment and thirst for drama, he knows some part of him has softened enough to do this, to not flinch from family, to run his hand over the indentation on the soft cotton sheets, an imprint that remembers you as well as he does.

‘Shuji? Baby?’ And again, like a song, your voice pulls him from his reverie.

‘Yeah?’

A beat, your hand moving to hold his, to pull it to your heart, where the memory of his name lives, where he has etched it into your ribcage. ‘Thank you, for doing this I mean. For taking the time out for them and me.’

He doesn’t expect it to hurt like this, the sharp and visceral drop of something into his stomach, and he falters, the quirk of his Cheshire cat grin slipping into something more concerned, something more sombre.

‘I didn’t mean- I mean I know you’re working hard, I’m grateful Shu’ baby- I am,’ you say, and the rambles of all the pent-up frustrations, nights made lonely by his absence, the whir of the refrigerator and the drone of nighttime Tv the only company, tumbles out before you can stop it. ‘But I miss you sometimes, and the kids-they miss you too. We all do.’

You can’t pretend that the calls made between meetings, between surveillance on the road, between drives from one shady establishment to the other are enough to suffice, to sate the need for him and sometimes it’s so clear, so sharp, that the pain of his absence cuts clean across your lungs.

‘I know…I miss you too, Pretty Girl.’ Said against the crown of your head, his lips slightly dry, chapped and still as full of love for you as they always are. He gets it, you know he does. It’s in the way he sends random messages to you in the small hours, when he knows you’re asleep and he’s watching a rat sell them out and he misses you in an urgent way, in a way that feels like an ache in his chest, the punch of it that hurts more than a kick could.

‘Come Home to us every time okay? Not just today, not just on my birthday, but every day,' You say, because it scares you to think otherwise, because you could run your hand over every ridge and bump of him and name every scar, every mark and it’s beginnings, because you could kiss the eyelashes from his cheek, and spend days and hours counting the calluses on his hands and it would still not be enough to bring him home to you every day.

‘I will, y’know me Doll, I never lose.’ He knows It’s more for you than him.

‘I mean you got your ass handed to you by Draken when-’

‘Well excuse me,’ he says, all faux annoyance, the grin curling at the edge of his perfect mouth. ‘What happened to you saying you missed me?’

You giggle, hiding against his chest, your hair tickling the collarbones that still betray the memory of your heated moments just a few hours prior.

‘I do! I always do. You’re like… my hero.’

‘That’s a new one, Doll.’

‘Like it?’

‘Mhm, y’know what I like even more?’

‘What?’

‘I like when you moan my name all sweet-’

‘Shuji?!’ And you slap a hand over his mouth, warm breath on your palm and the sound of his laughter muted and muffled as you spare a glance towards the door slightly ajar.

And he smiles at you, softened, warming as you pull your hand away, pressing a kiss to the wrist he’s grabbed, tender and heartfelt.

And you fall and tumble into love for him all over again.

A/n: I wouldn't be me without a self indulgent birthday fic for myself and about my darling boy, the apple of my eye, my heart and soul. (It's the 28th in case anyone wants to know ;)) thank you everyone always.

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @snakegentleman @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @rinnndoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup-xo @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @sweet-seishu @burnishedcrown @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs @sin-and-punishment @haruwuchiyoo @mochimiyaas @bertholdts--butt @theaonlax @blackfire2013 @wotakuhime @severellamahottub @anxious-chick

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #hanma shuji #tokyorev x reader #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #shuji hanma

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enbyfrogwrites · 29 days

Text

you're so needy, baby pt. 2

so! y'all voted for the content of pt 2. I hope y'all enjoy, again mdni and everything is under the cut <3.

tags: dead dove do not eat, mommy kink, sub!choso, smut, begging, afab reader but reader is nb coded, reader is mix coded but there's nothing pertaining to race outwardly, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, needy!choso, dom!gn!reader, reader is FAT not chubby or curvy, squirting, 18+; i don't go into details of what reader has, but reader is afab!coded but no outward description of their bottom half. Additionally, no use of y/n, unprotected sex

i'm trying my best, my physical and mental health went down the drain so i'm sorry that it took literal months to even begin this. there's going to be spelling and grammar errors cuz i'm just one person and that's just how it goes. please send me asks of yummy content. i think im gonna make this sub characters blog lmao

thanks for reading <3

word count: ~1.8k

You look back at Choso, his face wet as he pathetically whimpers a combination of pleas and 'Mommy'. You've been playing your game for a while. You haven't checked the time yet, but you figured it was close to an hour since you actually started playing.

"M-Mommy-" Choso huffed hotly into the nape of your neck. "Has it been an hour yet?" His voice was so whiney, the tail end of his question ended in a higher pitch. You chuckle as you felt your boyfriend nuzzled his tear-stained face in between your neck and the soft meat of your shoulder. The sensation caused you to shiver slightly, in turn making Choso groan loudly as you felt his still hard cock twitch inside of you.

"I don't know, baby. I have to check." You answered truthfully, your hand reaching up and ruffled your boyfriend's fine hair. Choso leans into the touch, letting out a small noise. You paused your game and grabbed your phone which sat next to your desktop. You swiftly tap your screen as you bring the device to your face. As you looked at the time, you felt your cute boyfriend grab at your apron belly, squeezing tightly in need, but not enough to physically hurt you.

You notice you have ten more minutes left before it would be a full hour...but you were in between quests in your game. Not only that...but your boyfriend was being such a good boy too...ah, fuck it.

"Yeah, baby." You coo as you take your headphones off and set them in front of you. "Are you ready for Mommy's reward?"

"Please, please!" Choso cried softly into your plump shoulder, his hands skirting up your stomach so he can wrap his arms around your waist. "Mommy, it hurts. Have I been a good boy?"

Your boyfriend squeezes you tightly, whining and sniffling pathetically. You again reach over your shoulder to pat his head lovingly before placing both of your hands on your desk for better leverage. You propel the desk chair backwards, pushing off your desk just enough for you and Choso to get up, not to fling yourself across the room.

"C'mon, Pookie;" You turn your head to look at Choso's beautiful dark violet eyes. "Let's take this to the bed, Okay? Mommy wants you to lay on the bed for them." You slowly pull yourself off his length, making your boyfriend gasp as your wet hole left his aching cock. His cock was slick and shiny from your hole, glistening in the natural lighting in your bedroom. Gods, his cock was beautiful, the head leaked profusely and was a glorious shade between dusty pink and scarlet red. Choso's cock twitched temptingly from the sudden temperature difference. The shaft was just so thick and veiny, and absolutely delectable to look at.

You look up and noticed how wrecked Choso truly was. The shorter front pieces his hair was plastered to this forehead. Your boyfriend's cheeks were so flushed that it somehow made the mark on his nose stand out even more. When you make eye contact with the poor half-curse, his dark circles were more pronounced from how much he was crying and begging. The blush from his cheeks traveled all the way down his neck to just a bit under collar bone that peaked from his V-neck.

You gestured to the bed next to your desk with your hand before gently leaning down to lick your way into Choso's mouth. The mewl that left his mouth as you caressed his tongue lovingly with your own was delicious. You pull away and made the short distance to the bed. You plop down on the edge of it and stared at your boyfriend expectantly as you patted your shared bed.

Choso scrambled off your desk chair, his feet shuffling swiftly and softly across the hardwood floor. He climbed dutifully on the bed and went to the center of the mattress where you patted.

"Scoot up for, Mommy please. Mommy wants their good boy's back on the headboard, can you do that?"

Choso nodded eagerly, his hands pushing the majority of his body weight so he can maneuver to how you wanted him positioned. You move up with him and made sure to tuck a couple of pillows behind him in preparation for his...reward. In addition, you slide your chubby fingers under his V-neck and pulled the fabric off his chiseled abdomen and carefully made sure that it didn't snag on any of his piercings on the way up.

"Mommy, please." Choso choked out, his right hand sneaking past your heated core to grip his cock. Really it's been only a few minutes, but the tone of his voice and desperation in your boyfriend's eyes made it seem it's been like a million years. You giggled as you gently pried his hand off his leaking cock, giving a small peck on his cheek in compensation.

"Relax for me, baby."

You palm your boyfriend's cock with one hand, starting from the base and leave fleeting touches across his tip with your fingertips. You repeat this motion a couple times, making Choso squirm and gasp loudly at the sensation. On the downwards stoke, you continue further down and cupped Choso's balls and gently massaged them. You pull a few more moans and whimpers from him before letting go completely.

You turn yourself around and backed your ass up enough, so your boyfriend's cock lined perfectly with your sopping hole. You hold your breath as you grip his cock and began to sink down on to it. Gods, he was just in you, and he still felt so damned big. You wait a moment after Choso bottoms out to catch your breath before to turning partially around to face the half-curse.

"Let Mommy do all the work, okay? You can cum in Mommy's hole whenever. You were such a good boy today, Cho!"

Choso's only response was a meek 'please, Mommy' followed by a shuttered breath. His pupils were blown wide, his beautiful violet irises almost swallowed whole as he made eye contact with you. You gave him a lopsided smile before facing forward so you can grab at the bed between Choso's thighs.

"My thighs, Mommy!" A pause as you whip your head back towards the half-curse. "I want to feel you grip my thighs as you fuck yourself on my cock, Mommy."

You face heated up immediately. You felt yourself get even more wet on his cock before hurriedly turning back around in slight embarrassment. You go to do what your boyfriend requested of you, but you felt him yank on your t-shirt.

"I love seeing all of you, baby. It's not fair if I'm the only one naked." Choso's tone was between husky and needy.

A twinge of self-consciousness peaked in your head at the thought of riding you boyfriend with all of you exposed. You apron belly, your back rolls, and your stretch marks would be on complete display. But just as those thoughts came into your head, they vanished when you felt Choso sit up more just to grab at your fat stomach.

"Please, baby? I love you. All of you."

You felt your body relax- you didn't even know it tensed up in the first place quite frankly. Warmth blossomed throughout your chest as the love and comfort radiated from Choso. You nodded your head and swiftly pulled off your shirt. You didn't wear a binder or a bra today, so you felt your nipples pebble immediately in the open air.

Fuck, you loved Choso so damned much.

"I love you, too. Lean back so Mommy can take care of you." You twist your head enough so you can watch him obey you before you faced forward again.

You gripped Choso's thighs as you lifted your hips up and slammed them down again. Choso made a choked sound behind you, making you smile at the noise before repeating the motion again. You began to rock your hips at the end, making your boyfriend hit deep inside you. Helpless, you yelp in pleasure as you do it again. Small 'ah ah ah's kept being punched from Choso's lips as you sit fully on him again.

"Fuck, baby, meet me halfway?" You groan the question out as you grind your core on the half-curse's pelvis.

"Yeah, Mama," Choso didn't even hesitate before grabbing your plump hips as leverage to thrust up into you.

You both moan when you meet perfectly in the middle. The skin-on-skin slapping echoed loudly throughout the room, which surprisingly wasn't half as loud as Choso's cries of 'mommy' and his high-pitched keens.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy-" the noise Choso let out following the last plea was between a choked sob and a frustrated whine. "I'm gonna cum! Please! Puh-lease." You twist your head to look behind you and noticed your boyfriend was only using one hand on your hips as he gripped on to his hair with his other hand...in desperation.

You were close too- fuck. Your legs were getting tired, but you weren't going to stop now especially if your boyfriend looked like that. Gripping his thighs even tighter- he's definitely going to have bruises tomorrow- you push yourself even further. Your hips came down harshly and unrelenting. You purposely kept grinding your core on every down stroke to bring yourself closer to orgasming.

"Cumming, Mommy!" Choso keened, he learned forward and grabbed your fat stomach, as he held your hips still to pump his hot seed into your sloppy hole. You felt his cock twitch inside your gummy walls, and you quickly reached between your legs to rub yourself furiously.

It didn't take much, a couple of swipes of your chubby fingers on your nub and the dam broke. A small cry left your lips as you felt a small distant feeling of being...more wet than usual when cumming this time around.

You rested on your haunches as you tried to catch your breath. Unconsciously you rubbed at the now red fingerprints blossoming on Choso's thighs. Speaking of him you felt the half-curse lovingly rub your stomach as he nuzzled his face into the plush middle of your back.

You then felt Choso began to shake uncontrollably, and you began to worry. Just as you tried to turn around, you felt Choso smile into your back, and you noticed that he was fucking...laughing?

"Look down, baby." Choso giggled.

You do as you were requested and look down. To your horror your sheets were soaked.

"Holy fuck! Did I really squirt?" You also noticed that your boyfriend's cock and balls were sopping.

"And here you were trying to play your game, but you wouldn't have done this if you did, Mommy."

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sc0tters · 8 months

Text

Different Paths | Jack Hughes

summary: 5 times Jack and your paths ran parallel to each other and the one time they finally became perpendicular.

song: Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.61k

authors note: this is officially the end of the 150 celly! I struggled to write this one but I’m very happy with where it ended up. Thanks for all of the love and support that it’s been given and we’ve only just gotten started.

His brother’s best friend was all Jack was never meant to see you as.

Luke had always been your best friend, you were like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb whenever you were around each other. The friendship started when you were four and it was around a similar time that your feelings for Jack begun.

Of course though at that age they were simply because a pretty boy looked at you.

Luke and you were in the kitchen as you ate the berries that Ellen had cut up for you two. Jack walked in with some of his friends from hockey as it caused you to grow nervous “hey Luke,” the middle Hughes boy had a grin on his face as he realised that he could screw with his brother. You turned pink as Jack locked eyes with you, it shouldn’t have been something you were okay with but the older Hughes boy always caused your heart rate to increase.

You smiled “h-hi Jack,” the boy sent you a wink as he stuck his hand into Luke’s container “mom!” Luke groaned as he watched his brother take half of his fruit.

Jack laughed as he shoved the sweet fruit into his mouth “get your own fruit!” The youngest Hughes boy added as he wasn’t impressed.

A soft voice left your lips “you can have some of mine Jack.” You offered as you held out your container with a smile.

The middle Hughes boy couldn’t help it when his heart felt warm, you were always just so sweet “no thanks sweets.” He shook his head as he ruffled his hand in your hair,

For now Luke was going to have to sit there and watch the way his best friend looked at his brother.

Quinn was like the big brother you never had, he always knew what to say and when to say it to you.

That’s what brought you on the couch as you told him about all of your life worries.

You should have felt stupid as jealously coarsed through your veins at the thought of Jack with that girl from down the road. It was stupid, yes you knew it was but as you could hear her laughs from the other room you almost wanted to scream “I know it’s crazy,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms slouching back into the couch cushions.

It was tough trying to remain calm “it’s not crazy at all,” Quinn shook his head as he placed a kiss on your temple.

Jack had seen the whole thing go down as he was meant to get himself and his new friend a drink. As much as he appreciated how comfortable you felt with Quinn he just wished that you’d be like that with him.

The way you were an open book with his older brother made him long for a day when he could be like that with you, even with something a little more.

You must have fifteen at the time, everyone was back in the lake house just how they were every summer “you coming or what?” Quinn called out as you had been soaking in the sunshine as you lay in your swimsuit “where to?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you got up and held your hand up to your forehead to block the sunlight.

Trevor let out a low whistle as he saw yours bounce in the bikini top that you were in “stop looking at her like that,” Jack sent the older boy a glare as he joined in the watch party.

Puberty had truly hit you like a truck over the last year. Your breasts had gone up two cup sizes, your waist was now more pronounced as your ass was rounded.

Jack knew it was wrong of him to see you in the light that he was, but he simply couldn’t help it “don’t be jealous cause you didn’t say it first.” Trevor warned as he shrugged smirking as you walked onto the boat “got a space next to me for ya sweets,” he offered as he patted the cushion next to him.

Luke gagged as he heard the shameless flirting come from his lips “I’ll sit with Luke.” You shook your head “thanks though Trev,” Jack felt like the Cheshire Cat when you sat in between the two boys.

The middle Hughes smiled as you looked at him “hi,” your own smile was now clear as you had also just lost your braces just weeks before the lake house.

His hand danced over your knee “hey sweets.” Jack had given you the nickname because you always had a sweet tooth, Trevor was the first one who chose to steal it.

Just like always you were dragged along to watch Jack play hockey, it was your families Friday night tradition as you were always in the crowd to watch him play.

Luke had his arm around your shoulder as the two of you made your way into the players area “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” Luke explained as he gave you a soft squeeze before he walked over to his coaches.

You weren’t left for long though as Jack found you “hey sweets,” he smiled as he held his arms out.

He was still sweaty as he was in his gear and still in his skates “like seeing you this tall,” you joked as you let out a laugh.

The boy scoffed “I’m always tall,” he mumbled as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Everyone watched on with a sense of curiosity as you reached up to brush some of the hair out of his face “keep telling yourself that,” an amused smirk spread across your face.

Ellen knew all about your crush on her son, it was hard not to. The way your eyes lit up when you saw him, or how your cheeks would grow hot whenever he’d touch you. She also knew that her son felt similar to you because of the lingering glances that were always sent to and from each of you. It was amusing how clueless Luke was as he never seemed to notice how this was the worst kept secret that you two had.

The big day for you and Luke had finally come. You two were officially graduates from high school. Since you arrived at school that morning you hadn’t seen Luke because you were both so apart from each other in terms of your last name.

So naturally when the ceremony ended you both ran back to your families who had been sat together “woah there sweets,” Jack smiled as you bumped into his back.

Your cheeks turned pink “sorry Jack,” you were quick to apologise as you brushed your hair out of your face,

The boy hooked his fingers under your jaw “I’m proud of you,” he confessed as he softly pinched your chin “high honours and all,” he added as his fingers brushed over the scarfs that you had gotten.

A toothy grin formed on your face “‘m more than just a pretty face,” you joked as a soft laugh fell from your lips.

His reaction mimicked yours “you have been,” Jack mumbled as you practically melted into his touch.

“Y/n!” Luke called out totally unaware of the sight in front of him as you whipped your head around.

It was like clockwork, you ran into Luke’s arms as you tackled him in a hug.

That was a constant reminder that Luke was always going to be first in your life.

You always enjoyed laying on the boat as it was still docked. It gave you place to simply just think, and the boat rocking in the water was always soothing “thought I’d find you here.” Jack smiled as he jumped onto the boat.

The quietness that you loved was now gone, not that you were complaining though as you patted the cushion next to you “didn’t know you were looking for me,” you mumbled as you had almost fallen asleep so you let out a yawn.

It brought a chuckle from his lips “don’t tell me I’m boring you already?” He joked as he watched you shake your head.

Jack grew comfortable in his seat next to you “you’d never bore me,” you confessed as you shook your head.

His hand moved to your knee as he grew nervous. It was a feeling that Jack wasn’t used to usually, it was something he only grew to know about when it came to you.

It would have made you melt if you knew the way he thought about you. Your heart was full in that very moment, despite the fact that Luke was so far away. In fact maybe that’s what made you feel at ease, it made you not feel as guilty about your feelings for the boy in front of you.

The air around you two was dense as the tension could have been cut “what are you thinking about?” You asked as you turned to face him, your lips dangerously close to his.

He smiled “thinking about kissing you,” Jack confessed as he let his filter get thrown out of the window.

You giggled as a grin came across your face “thinking you should do it then,” you could barely get that statement out of your mouth before Jacks lips were on your own. Your sweet cherry lipgloss invaded his taste buds as he let his hand move to the back of your neck not wanting to lose you just yet as he let out a groan pulling you onto his lap.

“Always knew my sweets would taste so good.”

#jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #nhl imagine #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

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