#i love it when people put white markings on them„

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 3

The Daughter

⚠️Warning: There's some inappropriate content in here! Not smut but still, mildly sexual! Proceed with caution! For those of you that want to skip lucifer being a touch starved snake I will mark where that ends.⚠️

When you woke up you were still in that horrible room. Dark red silk sheets stuck to your legs and arms. Warm comforters cocooned you. The neon red translucent fabric of the canopy hangs over you. You turn over to your left towards the door.

"Good morning!" Lucifer smiled. You leapt backwards in fright! You almost fell of the bed if not for him catching you holding you by your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Careful darling! We can't have my beautiful bride getting hurt, now can we."

"How long have you been watching me?" You scooted as far away as he'd allow. 

"Not long. About an hour or so. Which in the face of eternity is about the equivalent to a microsecond for a human. Anyway I made you breakfast! I kept it nice and warm for you!" He smiles and brought over the tray from the side table and popped the silver cloche off the matching tray.

"Hm, pancakes. Thanks, I guess." You shrug and take the tray. You cut off a piece and looking at like it had sprouted a face.

"I made it with a special ingredient." He giggled.

"Is it your semen? Because that’s really crossing a line." You set your fork down and pushed the plate away

"EW NO!" He exclaimed staring at you as if you'd grown a second head.

"Period blood then?" You asked unamused. 

"Um no, I don’t have one of those." He grimaced. 

"Well I do, so thanks for that." You glared as he turned his head down.

"Why would you think that I put either of those in there?"

"I've seen enough yandere anime to know what to expect."

"What's an anime?"

"A necessary evil."

"Well I made these with love!" He smiled at you baring his spiky teeth

"So you used a love potion?"

"NO! No! Nononono! No, no, no! Yeah uh, the bird brain 4 floors down would kill me if I tried. Plus I'm confident in my abilities to woo you. I am the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl" after all." He caressed your cheek. Well at least you know now that his hands are indeed an inky black.

"Which caused all the problems we have today." You deadpanned pulling away.

"Come on Doll! You gotta eat up!" He grabbed the fork and brought it to your lips. "Doll. Eat. Or I'll make you."

You growl and eat. What was supposed to be a romantic gesture ended up feeling hollow and forceful.

"Oh by the way I had a simple dress made for you from the measurements I took the first time I dressed you."

"What?"

"I altered that old wedding dress and shoes." 'So he knew that old shirt was too small for me! Pervert!' "I just had one made so we could go out shopping together! You can't exactly walk around Hell in an old wedding dress." He snapped his fingers and a white dress appeared before you with a belt that matches the pink in his vest appeared.

"…thanks." You force a smile. He places the dish to the side, and hugged you.

"Okay hang on!" You wiggled out of his grasp. "You need to stop touching me without my consent!"

He looked shocked but turned to look at the floor sullenly. "Sorry… I'm just happy to have someone around since my wife left me."

'He's trying to guilt trip you! Don't fall for it! Stand your ground!' You mentally screamed at yourself 

"And now that she's gone I guess I'm a bit touch starved. My daughter doesn't call or text. And the people of Hell aren't exactly the nicest, can't really go up to any of them and ask for a hug." He fiddled with the comforter under him.

'Stop it'  Your not sure who that was meant for.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you. I just- don't exactly pick up on people's feelings all the time. While that's no excuse I just… I'm sorry."

"…get out so I can change." You looked away. 'I will NOT develop feelings for the DEVIL of all people!'

He looked at you with big pleading eyes. "Can't I stay?"

"NO!"

"Oh right, you're traditional." He rolled his eyes.

'It's like it goes in one ear and out the other.' "Just leave!"

"Okay, sorry." He chuckled at you.

You slip on the dress and grab a comb from a big vanity across from the bed. 'I really need to be more observant. I can't stay here! I need to escape. But where would I go? It's Hell after all, not like they'll just let people out.' You opened the door and saw Lucifer fiddling with a duck in the hallway. He had put on a white top hat with a snake wrapped around it and had a crown and an apple as well. Next to him on the wall leaned a can with an apple for the handle. 

"Here! I made you this while waiting!"

"It's a duck." Was all you could say. 'No shit Sherlock.'

"Uh huh." He said with a big dopey grin.

"It looks like me."

"Cute isn't it?" He smiled.

"I think it’s ugly. This poor creature has to look like me after all." You joke.

He looked at you sadly. "Don't say that! You're beautiful! You're the most beautiful human I've met since Lilith!"

"Lilith? As in the Succubus from the Jewish religion?"

"Yeah... she was my first wife."

"I thought she was Adam's first wife."

"I told you I was the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl."" He smirked. "Oh here!" He offers you white flats. "Can I put them on you?"

"Who the Fuck Am I Cinderella?"

"Well you certainly are a princess."

"If this is your way of telling me you see me as a pillow princess, just stop because that's not going to happen."

"Heh, I'm not even the one who made the innuendo this time."

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"You'll want to once you fall in love with me!"

"Just give me the shoes." He handed them over and you slipped them on. "What's all this about anyway? Shouldn't you super busy running Hell, torturing sinners for all eternity?"

"I just want to spoil you with my riches! I'll give you anything you want! Anything at all! Just love me, want me, cherish me, and think only of me."

"Where have I heard that before? Other than a movie with IRL Kakashi (A/n: If you know, you know). I'm pretty sure it was in a big book. Matthew 4:10. Or is that wrong since you said that you and Satan are different people?"

"Doll. If you ever speak of that book in my house again, I will rip your tongue out."

'Daddy issues.' "So where are we going?" You change the subject.

"I'm so glad you asked." He grabbed his cane and started to walk away while you rush back to your room to put the duck down on the bed. "I rented out the fanciest shopping center in the pride ring! I don't know if I can take you to the other rings. Lilith transformed into a demon when she was cast into hell. Darling?"

"I had to put the duck down! Wait up!"

"Oh that reminds me I need more paint supplies. Hey! Have you ever had Cong You Bing. Let me tell you, for a pancake it's SO savory. I guess it's the syrup that makes pancakes sweet though. I like mine with whip cream. How about you?" 'He has a very one track mind.'

"Uh, chocolate chips and strawberries." You say as Lucifer opens the door to a long red Limo. 'Why is everything red? It's too much red!'

"Hm! I'll have to keep that in mind for tomorrow!" He slides in next to you. 

"We're not going to have pancakes every day are we? If So I might have to take over cooking breakfast."

"I would die to eat your cooking. I guess not because I don't really have a soul so I'd kind of cease to exist. But could you imagine if I ended up down here again! I'd be one unlucky bitch."

"Where will I go when I die?"

"I'm working on that Darling" You hadn't realized you said that out loud. 

Lucifer keeps talking while the limo drives into a huge town. Gigantic buildings lined every street. A few of the buildings had eyes. Some had strange designs like they were ripped out from a Dr. Sues Book. Others were dark and dingy; like whoever designed this was Tim Burton’s biggest fan. The limo took us into a bright neon district of the city.

"Wow! I've never seen a building so big! It's got to be at least 100 feet tall!"

"I've seen bigger. Box or whatever his name was is definitely trying to compensate."

The limo stopped in front of a long building, four stories tall. Neon blues mostly lined the outside and a bit on the inside. Neon pinks were scattered in some places. Lucifer turned to you and put a finger on your forehead bright light flashed from the tip. You looked down at you to see what he did and saw your skin turn gray. He brought out a mirror and sheepishly handed it to you. Your eyes turned black with yellow irises. Your hair was a vibrant aqua blue with some royal blue and royal purple streaks throughout it.

"Sorry. But I can't let everyone know that a live human is down here!"

He opened the door and held his hand out to you. You declined and opened the door on the other side and walked around the back to him. "Keep up."

He smirked and ran up to you. He motioned for you to follow him to the top floor. The whole top floor is only a single store. He led you to the front and immediately two attendants swarm him. "Welcome! May we have the pleasure of fitting you today, your highness?"

"Oh, no thank you ladies. We're here for her." The women looked back at you, like they weren't very impressed. One had black hair with the tips died purple with pink flowers tied throughout her hair. Her skin was lavender and so was her single eye, She wore a black button up shirt that was only buttoned on the last two buttons and underneath was a white lacy push up bra, her shirt tucked into black daisy dukes. She also had purple butterfly wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. The other girl was a blonde bunny with gold eyes. Her skin was covered in light yellow fur to match her hair. She was wearing a tight white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt just barely covered her.

"Hm, we'll see what we can do." The bunny said. "I'm Firefly." She pushed herself against his arm.

"Adelpha." The other girl pushed herself against his other arm. "Renesmee!" A small Imp girl comes running out of the back. "Tend to her will you." It wasn't really a question. The two sale attendants led Lucifer away.

"Please follow me miss."

"Thank you Renesmee." You gave the small imp a smile. She wore a small black suit and her left horn was broken.

She lead you throughout the store looking for anything you might want. All you were interested in was finding a way out of hell.

"No one's ever gotten out, not since it's creation and the fall of the king and queen. What is your relationship with the king."

"Would you believe me if I said he kidnapped me?"

"Sold your soul, huh?"

"Someone else gambled away my life." You looked down sullenly. Renesmee was having trouble carrying all the outfits you had chosen, but she refused to let you help.

"What's that over there?" You pointed at nothing, and snatched a few outfits out of her hands.

"Miss please, this is my job!"

"I don't care! You're barely able to hold five outfits much less fifteen. You're a very sweet creature and you shouldn't overwork yourself." 

"Thank you miss, but really I can't allow you to. If the managers see that they'll report me to Velvette and she'll kill me! Or worse! She'll send me to work for Vox! No imp has lasted more than an hour in his care before they were sent straight to Valentino. I have a wife miss, and she's between jobs. I can't loose my job with the Vees and I don't want my face plastered in a porno."

"That's disgusting! Okay I won't hold them, but please sit and rest. I'll sit too."

"Okay." She sighed in relief.

"DARLING!!" Lucifer practically tackled you into a hug.

"What did I say about personal space?"

"Sorry I just missed you." He unhooked himself from you. "I found these cute duck pajama's in the clearance section and-" 

"Lucifer you said I could have anything I wanted."

"Yes! Anything!"

"I want you to hire Renesmee and her wife to be my personal staff."

"Miss that's not necessary."

The two clerks from before catch up and start to laugh. "Did you really think she'd hire you?" Adelpha laughed. "Pathatic! Get back to work you sister fucker!"

"Nina ain't my sister! She ain't even my species!"

"Does it really matter? You imps are so inbreed it's stunted your growth." Firefly doubled down. "The king would never hire a lowly Imp that can't even work an 8 hour shift without a five minute break every hour."

"Shut up! Renesmee is a much harder worker and a far better person than you whores!"

"Ignore them. It's just sinners being sinners." Lucifer turned you away from the women. 

"It's wrong! Renesmee didn't do anything except exist." You defended.

"Pfft look at this dumb bitch." Adelpha snickered. 

"That's just how thing's work down here. Imps work for the elite, they do menial labor." He retorted. 

"So you're telling me that they get abused and treated like shit because of how they were born. Isn't that literally racism?"

"Uh not exactly. It's just that sinners hold more weight than most Hellborn, since sinners are immortal and most Hellborn aren't." He panicked. 

"This stupid hussy is so dead." Firefly chortled. 

"We still get jobs miss. It's more of a social and raw power hierarchy." The small imp said. 

"So classism. What the fuck is this? Are you immortal? Is your kid going to have to inherit this flawed system? Is she immortal? Presumably she's Lilith's right? Or did you hook up in heaven? Is that allowed?" Thoughts flooded your head and spilled from your lips. 

"Woah woah, One question at a time darling. Heh, ironic coming from me. It's just all a bit much for me right now."

'A bit much for you? A BIT MUCH FOR YOU!? I had this whole thing thrust on me and you say that it's all a bit much for YOU!!' "You promised anything, Lucifer."

"Okay. Renesmee are you under contract with anyone?"

"I'm under a two week's notice policy with miss Velvette." 

"Go get any personal items from the back. I'll notify and compensate this Velvette character off your immediate resignation. As for you two." He glared at the two attendants that were mocking you. "Go ring up all these outfits and the ones I chose for my darling." He gives them a black card and escorted you to the exit. 5 minutes later renesmee comes rolling out riding on the back of a shopping cart. You don't even have the heart to ask where she got it from she looks too cute to mention anything.

You and Lucifer walked around the rest of the mall and he picked up anything that caught his eye. New paint supplies for his ducks; new rubber ducks; a duck necklace for you; a strawberry crepes that you two split begrudgingly on your side; he got you eight new pairs of shoes all in different colors and styles (red heals, orange flip flops, yellow sandals, green tennis shoes, blue boots, purple lolita style shoes, pink slip-ons, and black wedges); You drew the line at him coming in the with you to a store that was Hells version of Victoria Secret.

"Go buy some electronics! I'll need a phone down here."

He pouted. "Okay."

"He's so weird."

"I think the king just really likes you."

"No he's just weird. I hate how fast he's moving! It's suffocating." You gripped the skirt of your dress.

You bought out nearly the entire shop just as a little 'fuck you' to Lucifer that he wouldn't get to see you in any of them.

When you and Renesmee left you saw him waiting outside. He bought you a flatscreen, a Pc, a laptop, a wide screen monitor, a keyboard for said monitor, a matching mouse, cute cat headphones, and a fancy microphone. "I couldn't resist! I just had to spoil you!" He also had a few boxed in his hand. One was of medium size and had a picture of an iPad on it. One was small and had air-pods in them. One had a picture of a phone on the box. You took the phone and opened it up ready to get it set up.

Lucifer wrapped his arm around your waist and led you back to the limo as you fiddled with the phone.

Hey! This is the end of lucifer being a touch starved snake! If that's all you're here for I'll see you next chapter! If you want to stay for the angst enjoy the show!

The next day Lucifer woke up and was pulled away from you by Styx.

"Sire you have a meeting with the Sins today. It must have slipped your mind that the meeting was supposed to be YESTERDAY! the day of the new moon."

"Ugh let's get this over with." He walked into his study and slumped into his chair. He pulled up the video chat app. one by one the other Sins pop up. First Satan, next Mammon, then Leviathan. 

"Mammon." Leviathan said.

"Leviathan." Mammon retorted.

"Hah! I got here first I win! Fuck you guys."

"Technically I got here first." Lucifer smirked. Asmodues popped on.

"Froggy I have to go." He giggled as Fizz tickled him. 

"Oh uh, hi your majesty." Fizzarolli bowed awkwardly.

"Hello. It's always nice to see Ozzie's first serious fling."

"Hey!" Asmodues blushed. The others laughed.

"Well I should uh probably get going." Fizz blushed and hopped off camera.

"Hey everyone!" Beelzebub joined with no warning. "Hold on a second." She rushed to the door. "EVERYONE SHUT UP I'M ON A WORK CALL!! ... THANK YOU!"

"And as usual we're waiting for-" Mammon started sarcastically.

"I'm here!" Belphegor quickly signed on.

"Thank you everyone more moving our Doom Meeting to today." Lucifer smiled. (A/n: Zoom parody for those that don't get it)

"You better be fucking grateful!" Mammon sassed.

"What the fuck was so important that you had to move the meeting date!?" Satan screamed.

"It's not important." Lucifer dismissed their questions.

"Oh really? It wouldn't have anything to do with your new plaything would it?" Leviathan teased.

Lucifer blushed. "What?!" Ozzie and Bee gasped.

"You're out seeking love again after Lilith?" Ozzie took the lead.

"Let's go! Levi send the pics!"

"Don't you dare!" Lucifer threatened. Levi put them in the chat on the side. Belphegor had fallen asleep a while ago. She wasn't going to hear any of this. 

"She's adorable!" Ozzie squealed. 

"Where were you hiding this cutie?"

"A sinner? I thought you hated sinners!" Satan snarled.

"Are we going to have a meeting or not!" Mammon complained! "Time is money!"

"Leave, this is more important!" Ozzie encouraged.

"We can leave?" Satan asked enthusiastically. Him, Mammon, and Levi left.

"Hm?" Belphy woke up.

"You can leave Belphy." Lucifer smiled.

"You need help right? Charlie doesn't know, you've gotta tell her."

"Wait how do you know so much about this?" Bee looked at her surprised.

"Who do you think told Levi about the affair."

"Belphy!" Lucifer exclaimed.

"Sorry! You were just so sweet in those photo's to her."

"Should I tell Charlie? I mean I was hoping to just talk to her at the wedding."

"Woah! What wedding?" Ozzie asked.

"Oh yeah um her and I are getting married."

"How long have you two been together." Bee interogated.

"...three days."

"Yeah if you're going to move this fast you need to tell Charlie." Belphy encouraged.

"Okay, could you guys stay with me while I call her?" The three agreed and He dialed Charlie's number. "Hey sweetheart!"

"Hi dad. Do you need something?" She sounded a bit strained like she was waiting for him to ask a favor. 

"Um look Charlie. I know that things have been hard for you recently. And with the extermination that just happened a month ago you've been especially stressed."

"Uh Yeah! hold that though dad." She muted her dad and motioned Vaggie over. "Dad's finally talking about the exterminations."

"that's great honey."

"Hey dad!" she unmuted him. "you were saying..."

"Things have been hard for you and I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for the people." He was trying to butter her up and slowly easy into the idea of him getting remarried. "And you know things have been hard since your mom left."

"Yeah." She waited with baited breath. 

"Charlie... I met someone! Someone who's been a real big help and joy to me the whole time she's been with me. And I think she could really help you too."

"Really?! That's great dad!"

"Oh! Yeah, would you be willing to come by tonight and meet her?!"

"Of course! I'll be over at 5!"

"Great! See you then!"

"Bye dad!" 

"Bye!"

"Vaggie! We finally have a benefactor for the hotel!" Charlie bounced

"She took that rather well." lucifer smiled worried how you'd react to the news of meeting his daughter.

Surprisingly you took it rather well. You got dolled up and sat in the living room. Lucifer had to attend to a mini meeting to reschedule their failed meeting from this morning.

"You must be Charlie." You smiled. "You look exactly like your father. Only taller."

"Oh, thank you. My dad actually gave me this old suit jacket." It was pink and she had black flared pants with pink rims on the bottom.

You laughed. "It's hard to imagine someone like Lucifer wearing pink."

"No offense but you look... strangely human."

"It's a... long story."

"Right, well we better get down to business. may I ask what made you think redemption is possible in the first place?"

"...excuse me?"

"Redemption! The thing the Happy Hotel is- will be know for."

"What's the happy hotel?"

"Didn't my dad tell you? Isn't that why your here?"

"No." 'frankly I wish it were.' "Tell me about it."

"What?"

"No offense but the Devil's daughter trying to redeem people is a new one. And trust me I've heard a lot of crazy things." 

"I want to redeem sinners so that they can go to heaven!" She bursts out all at once.

"How will you do that?"

"Well I've been workshopping a little ditty. Would you mind if i performed for you? I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through song!"

"Please by all means! The floor is yours."

*insert inside of every demon is a rainbow*

By the end she's huffing and you clapped loudly giving her a standing ovation. "That was amazing!"

"Sorry I'm late ladies!" Lucifer entered.

"Dad! Who is she?"

"You didn't tell her?" He looked at you

"She's your daughter. It's not my place to say."

"If she doesn't want to be a benefactor for the hotel why did you want us to meet."

"Hey I never said I don't want to!" You chirped in the background but it's drowned out.

"Benefactor... Charlie when I said I met someone I meant... I-I didn't mean... I'm going to marry her..."

"What?" Charlie's voice cracked. "But what about Mom!"

"What about Mom?"

"I think I should go." You tried to leave. 

"Stay." Lucifer Ordered.

"You said that you'd love her forever!"

"Yeah at the beginning of Hell! Charlie SHE left ME. What am I supposed to do? wait for her to come crawling back to me?" 

"It would be better than you running around with some floozy under your arm digging her way into your checkbook. Does she even love you?"

"She loves me very much!"

"I really feel like I this is a father daughter Moment."

"Stay!" Charlie ordered her horns Popping out as she uttered the word. "How long have you been together?"

"A while!"

"You literally said like two days ago a month was nothing in the face of eternity." You said and this was ignored. "So now you'll ignore me."

"Don't lie to me!"

"A few days."

"A few days?!"

"When you were younger you only took a few days to know you wanted to date Seviathan!"

"I was a teenager! And look how that relationship ended."

"Charlie I know what I'm doing. I really thought that'd You'd be more supportive of me and my decisions."

"I Really don't think I should be here."

"STAY!" They both shouted at you, their horns popping from their heads, and this time you sat. 

"You always told me that Mom was the only one for you and now you're throwing that away?"

"Charlie... I thought that out of everyone I know, you'd be the most mature about this. You know I love you but you're being a spoiled brat about this! I've given up so much for your happiness. I have mad sacrifice after sacrifice and all I'm asking for is for you to understand where I'm coming from. I'm Lonely Charlie."

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this."

"Charlie stop! You're acting like a child!"

"Don't dad. Just don't." She left.

"Lucifer! I don't want to come between you and your daughter. I grew up on evil stepmom stories, I don't want to be like that."

"Just!- We will talk about this later." And he left you alone.

"Great! Now I have the Devil and his daughter angry at me and each other! Way to go me! And on top of all of that I still don't have anyway to get home! I'm going to DIE!" You screamed into a pillow.

#vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin #lucifer morningstar x reader #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere #hazbin yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #charlie #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x you #helluva asmodeus #helluva beelzebub #helluva belphegor #hellaverse #hazbin oc #ocs #original character #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin lucifer x reader

[the-acid-pear]

Something that always pissed me off about DSaF is how it acts like your physical exterior is a moral failing, which is echoed by the characters but only ever reinforced instead of subverted. Biggest L from the writing imo.

#luly talks #started thinking of this again bc someone pointed out word of god said henry looks like that in the game's style (despite being a Normal #White Man) as a representation of how evil and non human he is which is like WHAT THE HELL MAN!!! THAT'S MEAAAN #like changes in looks to represent someone is evil isnt an issue when its 1) A WILLING CHANGE 2) ACTUALLY TIED TO THEM BEING EVIL #see: jack in pure evil doing his jack o lantern shit #like how are Jack or Dave Bad People™ for just DYING. #''the outside always ends up matching the inside'' BABYGIRL I LOVE YOU BUT STOP TALKING BULLSHIT!!!! #like tje only case where i dont mind this is w Davetrap bc the bnnuy shit is a direct consequence of his actions #like a mark of shame if you squint you'll see me wag my tail because im remembering one of my favorite blonde men #im not gonna specify bc its a tasteless comparison if you think of it too long but its basically the same #he was only put there bc of what he did and bc he wouldn't stop it was not an accident or a tragedy #but hell this shit of hating ppl based on their looks extends to ANYONE like Dee is straight up A Good Woman and is hated cuz she. weird #MATT TOO like okay. matt isnt a good person. he has some shady shit going on. BUT IT DOES NOT WARRANT HOW HATED HE IS BC HE'S ''CREEPY'' #and pf course the phoneys esp Jake w ''i was a monster'' though that's the only case i can think of where its like #self perception and not some bloke going holy shit you're so ugly i dont trust you #prob more examples but i havent played the game in too long so Y'know. #dsaf

[kisses4kaia]

mdni. 18+ content. another installment of this au.

college!luke castellan doesn’t care about hickies.

of course, his frat brothers tease them relentlessly, but he does nothing to rebate the suggestions from most that they were from you. it wasn’t any secret that you and him had been fucking—casually, of course, he didn’t have time for relationships—for some time now, but it always left you a little jarred when he would be so open to the display of red bites left splayed on his neck.

“won’t they see?” you ask a bit dumbly after luke asks you to mark him through passionate kisses. rudely—your friends thought—he’d pulled you away from the dining hall with no explanation other than ‘needing you’.

“what?” he says, slightly breathless from kissing. the question had taken him aback because, had he not made it clear by now?

“won’t your friends see the… you know?” the sheepish tone in your voice elicits a deep chuckle from luke before he presses his lips against your neck, not hard enough to create hickies just yet, but not exactly gently either. “you want the truth, princess?” your eyebrows furrow a little dumbly but you nod with curiosity. “i think you love seeing ‘em on me, and you love when people know they’re from you,” he says. “and you know i don’t care if anyone sees. i know you know me better than that, don’t you, baby?” luke’s timbre is so low, so arousing and you can hardly keep the needy whimper in.

you just nod, no more doubt within you as you trail kisses down his scar, to his jaw, down to his neck and collarbone. the satisfied groans you elicit from him as you find that spot on his throat sends you in a daze almost immediately. his lips catch yours again before he flips the both of you over, settling on his knees in front of you.

luke’s mouth is everywhere, nibbing at the surface of your skin, laving his tongue over the fresh ache. his strong hands pulling your shorts and panties down in one go. “gonna mark you here,” he says, catching the plush flesh of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking on the area and conjuring a livid stain on your skin.

he forges more and more red marks onto your skin before he finally puts his mouth on your neediest place. luke’s suctions his lips around your clit, forcing a choked gasp from you and a hand flying down onto his head. he groans against you as your back arches and your fingers tangle in his hair, tightening and tugging. he works hard, like he’s being paid to eat you out, but really, he knows he would pay to die between your thighs.

just as luke’s tongue pushes it’s way into your sopping hole, you feel that blissfully hot, white, sensation swim over and past you. your thighs are most likely suffocating luke, but he doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice really.

his tongue fucks you through your orgasm, and upon coming down from your high, luke’s head rises from your middle.

“we’re still casual, though?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! #lukesie bb 🐛. #kaia writes luke #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #pjo smut #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson smut #percy jackson and the olympians #this was inspired by casual by chappel roan go stream #🥰

[amaranthineghost]

HE’S SO PRETTY WHEN HE GOES DOWN ON ME ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x reader

charles goes down on her and she can't help but admire his pretty eyes staring back at her.

warnings: smut, mostly google translate french (highschool does NOT teach us how to talk dirty okay, bare with me)

author note: as much as I would've wanted to write this for lando, it HAS to be charles, and I feel like this is so different from my usual thought and emotion heavy writing! incoming charles obsession??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT...

HIS GREEN EYES MIMICKED THE SHIMMER OF PALE EMERALD. sunlight peeked through the curtains, though in a few hours time, it would fall from its peak in the sky and the room would eventually begin to darken.

his biceps filled out the sleeves of his freshly-washed blue shirt, straight from the load of laundry she had done hours ago. veins like lightning under his tanned flesh to suggest his touch was rough, yet his callused hands were so gentle against her skin.

goosebumps crept across her body with every graze of his body on hers, every small breath against her ear as he mumbled something dirty to her in french. though she didn't know exactly what, she could pick up on the cognates between languages.

he tasted faintly of chapstick, her chapstick, that transferred from her lips to his as he couldn't keep off of her. with lips as swollen and pink as hers, he graced nearly every part of her body with his kiss. she was his oxygen and he was deprived.

but it was hard for him to ever be deprived, considering how even when they weren't in such a position, he was glued to her, hands grasping or resting at her sides and his breath down her neck.

when he'd reluctantly part from her sweet-tasting lips, his veined hand would snake down from the long strands of her hair in his palm, coming to rest on her jaw. prominent veins in his arms would indicate force was used to push her head up to expose the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, yet his touch was tender.

still, he felt her gulp under his palm.

light trails of saliva from his kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and neck, leaving red marks of irritated skin that would later bruise.

he knew she wouldn't be able to cover it up. he nipped at her skin with the purpose of showing it off, and she could get him to stop if she really wanted. but she didn't want that.

the hand on her neck reminding her of the easy power he had over her, and how she loved the gentle dominance he displayed.

because it hadn't taken much convincing earlier to get her into their bedroom. despite it being midday, he wanted to take care of her, in more ways than one.

she didn't object, she wouldn't when he looked at her with those damn eyes. his strength and her weakness.

now laid on her back with his body looming over her, his knee between her legs to put pressure just enough, but still not satisfying the desperate need to have him. and yet they had both managed to stay clothed all up untill this moment.

kissing up the staircase, his hands grasped at her waist, hoisting her into his arms, and gotten them to where they were now.

the tension had been building with every step he took, his pretty eyes watching her squirm, though he was the one to be so eager to please her. he couldn't give a shit about himself.

disheveled hair and tired, green eyes while his greedy hands roamed down her clothes, grasping at the skin of her thighs. still, he took his time as he usually did with his hands over her body, memorizing every dip in her skin.

fingers teasing under the edge of her white laced tank, bumps rising on her stomach as the material rode up her torso. he watched her nipples harden through her top, feeling his sweatpants getting tighter as he watched her subtle reactions. subtle reactions that gave him more than a little confidence in his attempts to please her.

because if he didn't then what was his purpose of living if not to please her?

his eyes remained on her the entire time, even if hers didn't meet his. she felt the burning sensation of his gaze over her heated skin. desperation for him between her thighs became increasingly unbearable, she wanted him. she needed him.

but he always took his time. it was agonizing, but she always came hard because of it.

from teasing her barely exposed skin to massaging into her ribs, he watched her expression every step of the way. it was slow, as per usual, agonizing.

his hands finally found her breasts, gently squeezing the flesh in his palms while he circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, exerting small noises from her.

removing one hand momentarily, he pulled down the lace of her tank, leaving messy kisses down from her collarbone to her other breast. but he didn't give her that little satisfaction, not yet.

“shhhh, patience, mon amour,” he spoke with a rasp in his voice, muffled slightly as she felt the vibrations of his voice against the flesh of her breast.

fixing her top with his other hand still teasing her chest, his hand caressed her waist under her small shorts.

trailing down the joint of her hip, his fingers traveled slowly down to and along her inner thigh before dipping under the fabric of her shorts. he played with her panties, pulling the hem away from her slick cunt. she whined at the contact of air to her core.

he bit his lip at the sight of her, fuck she was gorgeous lying before him and so desperate for a simple touch of his hand.

his knuckles brushed over the wet patch - that he caused- on her underwear and she inhaled a sharp gasp. he tsk’d at her reaction, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

“tu es une petite chose désespérée,” (you are a desperate little thing). he chuckled breathlessly, eyeing her body squirm at such simple actions from him, “très sensible…” (very sensitive).

he teased her with words she could only guess the meaning of, pulling the hem of her panties back only to release it from between his fingers to slap back onto her skin. the sound filled the silence of the room and she flinched slightly at the feeling.

though she didn't have much time to react in any other way when his two fingers ran up her wet cunt, her folds rubbing against the soft cotton of her soaked panties. he teased her clit, rubbing circles with his thumb in an agonizing pace.

biting her lip and grasping at the pillows above her head, she clenched her thighs around his hand, trapping his fingers out of desperacy to feel more.

he only chuckled at her need, her attempt for a sliver of control. because he knew she had none.

he still managed to slip his hands away from her core despite her desperacy to keep him close and use him, which he didn't mind, but he preferred to have control. the warm hand from her chest emerging from the bottom of her lace tank to pry her legs apart, which didn't take much force from him. though she whined at the lack of contact.

hands placed on her knees, sliding his callused hands down the front of her thighs to rest at the point on her waist the top of her shorts rested. firmly grasping handfuls of the flesh of her hips, he tugged her body sharply against his.

unfortunately for her, his hands left her side - which she objected to - for merely five seconds to slip his blue shirt from his torso.

“calme,” (quiet) his tone was firm, yet a smirk etched its way onto his face as he saw the way her face changed as his toned torso was now in full view for her to marble at.

he let her as her fingertips barely reached his skin. she returned the smirk as she saw the rising goosebumps from the sensation of her nails down his abs before reaching where his v-line was interrupted by the tops of his sweatpants.

he shook his head at her actions, catching her wrists with both his hands and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “it's your turn now, belle,” his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear. fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank as he waited for her permission.

instead of giving it to him, she’d rather try to turn the teasing back on him, but unlike her, he loved the show she gave as she peeled her top from her body slowly.

on contact with the cold air, her nipples hardened again and charles could swear he salivated at the sight of her bare chest, as if he hadn't seen it plenty of times in the past.

“tu es trop jolie pour moi, ma chérie,” (you are too pretty for me, my dear) he muttered under his breath, hands full of her breasts as he couldn't resist himself.

okay, maybe her slow strip-tease did work on him a little bit. a little too well because now he wanted to see all of her.

shuffling his way till he stood at the foot of the bed, hastily slipping off his sweatpants without breaking his gaze on her body. the rise and fall of her bare chest, her hands returned to their spot on the pillows, her legs now crossed and hips moving to find friction against the cotton of her clothes to give her something to go off of. biting her lip as she tried, all while he watched.

the sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor as he disregarded them across the room, his attention on her never faltering as she watched him crawl across the bed back to her.

his toned shoulders and biceps, veiny forearms and hands, eyes locked on hers, disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. the heat of his gaze made her squirm as he crawled back up to her, bodies pressed together as his head once again dipped into the crevice of her neck.

kissing down her body, he went further, and further, and further till he stopped at her stomach, hands on her hips to her thighs to unknot them just enough. hands back to her hips to lift her just slightly and with his fingers around the hem of her shorts and panties, slowly slid them down.

he's so pretty when he goes down on her, green eyes watching as he dipped lower, and lower, and lower. gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry now across the room.

his warm breath against her stomach as he watched her carefully, analyzing every little movement and subtle reaction. every brow crease, mouth twitched, nose flare, every swallow and gulp that traveled down her throat, small fly-aways from her hair starting to matte down to her skin.

biting her lip as he lowered down her body, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs. close enough to feel his breath against her thighs, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

anticipation building in her stomach, hips rolling to close the gap from his face to her cunt, but his hands holding her down firmly stopped her. a whine in desperation slipping past her lips, pushing her head further back into the pillow in anguish.

“regarde-moi, chérie.” (look at me, darling) he spoke so sweetly, yet so tauntingly, like he'd never give in to what she wanted if she didn't do what he needed her to.

“charles, please…” she begged because she wasn't entirely paying attention to what he was asking of her, especially when he spoke another language. she didn't have time for translation.

he shook his head, pressing his face into her inner thigh as he chuckled at her tone, so needy and only for him.

“look at me, amour,” he repeated in english after kissing her thigh.

now propped up on her forearms, watching her beloved monégasque boyfriend looking back at her with a smug smirk on his face.

she scowled back at his expression, opening to make a snarky comment about it. her jaw hung open after he finally closed the gap after waiting too long, his tongue licking a single stripe up her cunt.

she rolled her eyes in annoyance, falling back down into her pillows as she groaned in annoyance, “fuck you, charles.”

“i’m sure you'd love to, darling,” he teased before tasting her again, humming into her cunt which incited a hand through his hair, pushing him closer and a whine to slip past her lips.

when he'd done enough teasing for his own enjoyment, he indulged further into her core. his hands snaking around to the crevice where her thigh met her hip to pull her further into him.

squeaked moans barely making it out of her mouth as he worked away at her clit, her hand in his dark hair to push him closer in fear he would stop.

nips at her folds and whines whenever he would do so, tugging a little harder on his hair causing groans from him. vibrations of his groans through her clit, stimulating her more and more.

legs trembling as her thighs clamped tightly around him, and he didn't dare stop her. he was in heaven. she was sweet, perfect in contrast to her bitter attitude only seconds ago. he nearly broke eye contact when he was first reminded of how she tasted.

caressing her hips, he refused to part with her cunt, his lips coated with her slick as he heard the pattern of her moans falter.

she was so easy to tie in knots, and so easy to untangle too, shuddering harshly as she barely let out a moan. tugging tighter at his hair, pulling him closer as if he would leave her unsatisfied as she came undone on his tongue.

he didn't stop after the first, or the second. it wasn't until she was close to her third that he even considered a break. after the second, his pace slowed to small movements from his tongue, lightly teasing her now sensitive clit.

soft tears ran down her cheeks at the overstimulation between her legs, but she didn't stop him. it felt too damn good.

the third came the slowest, but hardest as he managed to coax it out of her patiently.

by the time he had pulled away, his hair was even more messy than before, her slick covered his lips and chin, his tongue licking away the remnants of her on his face. his shoulder slightly red at her barely clawing away at his skin.

by the time he had pulled away, tears streamed down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, her arched back dropping down the sheets, and her hands that were previously in his hair now gripped tightly at the pillows by her head. her eyes, hazy and tired, her chest rising and falling with hastened breaths as he crawled up to her, running a hand through her equally-matched messy hair and wiping stray tears that he caused, even though he knew it wasn't a bad thing.

without a word, he got up, leaving to slip into their bathroom. she heard the faucet run from her position on the bed and she rolled to the edge, peeking at his actions.

she knew he would take tender care of her, no different to how he did so every time.

—

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

#formula 1 #formula 1 drivers #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #cl16 one shot #cl16 x y/n #cl16 x you #cl16 fluff #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 fic #cl16 smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles x reader #charles smut #f1 #f1 x you #charles x you

[roturo]

ᯓ★DASH ╰⪼┆MMM!, I JUST WANNA CONTINUE MY PACE!

⤹ featuring: jjk men and motorcycles!, smut, pussy slapping, size kink, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, jealousy, marking, breeding, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms- gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen..

⤹ next up!: bad news! (feb 2024) ft. jjk men suffering from reader having a low sex drive, ow!

february event! -`♡´-

gojo satoru

Sounds of skin slapping filled the room, he swears he was so close to cum for the second time in the afternoon. You? Maybe like the fifth? Sixth? He doesn’t remember how many times he ate you out– preferring to “skip lunch and have dessert” instead. 

The sounds of motorcycles and talking were silenced thanks to your moans. Not like he needed to hear the other people throwing shit at him. Probably just jealous that he always wins this type of spontaneous street races. 

He felt that familiar tingly feeling shocking his body from his hips to his neck, feeling how you were squeezing his cock he could tell you were close too, rings from his phone tried to win the sounds of his groans and moans. Notifications coming out from what you could catch to see– Geto asking where he was, that they needed him right now just so they could start the race. People were complaining of favoritism and how they shouldn’t let Satoru compete anymore.

“Sa- ‘toru, the- the race.” Taking breaths while trying to tell Gojo you were out of time and should stop– but all you could pronounce were small ‘ah, ahs~’ while he pounded behind you. “They can wait baby, just cum f’me one last time, yeah?” 

It was like a ritual for him to fuck you everytime before a race. Taking it as his “luck key”, even though he didn’t need it to win, he just accustomed himself to destress before racing. Not that you complain.

“They- they already know who’s goin’ to win anyway- shit- you feel so good babe” A specific thrust threw you over the edge and made your vision blurry, losing yourself in the feeling while Satoru was reaching his high too while he continued pounding behind you. “atta’ girl– there we go… yeah, take it f’me”

geto suguru

Don’t ask me how, but this man would love to see you riding him while he’s on top of the motorcycle. 

Small tired jumps in search of release while you stabilize yourself with the handlebar while Geto’s thrusts sync with yours. Caging your small body on his while he also stabilized himself by moving his hands to the handlebar, feeling the motorcycle tremble and having to put one of his feet down to stop it from moving too much.

You were too lost in the pleasure you wouldn’t even notice the white of his hands because of how hard he was gripping the handlebar, one of them moving to grip your waist instead, helping you get even deeper in his cock. All he could see was the connection between the two of you, his back pressed to yours.

“Ahh Sshit baby- S’perfect f’me–” He had to bite your shoulder to not embarrass himself and moan louder than you. His hand on your waist moving towards your core while he starts giving small slaps on your clit. The small pain he was inflicting aroused you more– taking a mental note that you would most likely forget to buy a new leather saddle for him. The both of you would already reach your highs and he would stop thrusting, making you cockwarm him, but he wouldn’t stop slapping your pussy. Loving your body reaction while he chuckled everytime you trembled on top of him each time he gave a hard slap.

Your clit was hard and pulsing because of how much he slapped it, your arousal wetting Geto’s thighs when you came again just by slapping your pussy. Feeling his hard cock inside of you he wouldn’t move and preferred to continue playing with you.

nanami kento

It all started with an innocent act. You sitting on his bike while admiring it— delicately touching it, your doe eyes and small body compared to his did something inside him. 

You just looked so… pretty sitting on his bike. Your hips rolling trying to find a comfortable position in this big bike of his– remembering the same movement when he’s inside of you. Trying to pleasure yourself on his big cock making an appearance on your tummy– not letting you touch yourself or him, you just had to cum by your movements and his cock.

He loved it. Watching your body move and using him as a sex toy– but for you it was a punishment, not being able to touch him, or to feel him in the right way stressed you a lot– making it harder to cum.

He loses the mental battle on his head and now finds himself between your thighs while you balance yourself trying to grip whatever part of his bike.Your legs caging his head even deeper in your center, he never felt so… needy for something. Being so ‘patient and tolerant’ flew across the window the moment he saw you end his bike next to each other.

Maybe because it was the two things he most adored in the world? You first, his bike second. But it doesn’t matter what was the cause, but now he’s sure the effect will be him sitting on his bike while you ride him.

megumi fushiguro

You thought it was funny? You know how easily stressed Megumi becomes when a race is coming. He’s a perfectionist, and really ambitious. So he could never let himself lose, not when he has a reputation to sustain now.

He needs to feel enough. Even though you always tell him he’s more than enough and should treat his hobby as it is: a hobby– he should take it lightly and enjoy it rather than making it something that would hurt him in any kind of way.

But the moment he saw you giggling next to one of his ‘rivals’ he’s sure something inside his brain magically turned on and made him feel an anger that he couldn’t quite describe. He trusts you. But seeing you next to someone else rather than him really bothered him.

He doesn’t consider himself as a jealous boyfriend– but you were just so perfect for him that he was afraid of losing you in any kind of way. He wouldn't admit that kind of sadness and insecurity inside him to anyone, he prefers to disguise it as rage. That didn’t quit the fact that he’s jealous right now though.

He obviously won the race, the moment you went to hug him and congratulate him you knew something was wrong. The way his body reacted to yours wasn’t normal, tough and stiff, like he was almost forcing himself to hug you lovely when all he wanted it was to fuck you infront of everybody and show them you were his.

Maybe that’s an idea for another day.

But right now when the both of you got home, he told you not to get off his bike. You were confused- maybe he’s taking you somewhere else?

Wrong.

He brought himself a chair, placed it so he was facing the right side of it. All he did was say two words.

“ride it.”

He pointed at the bike with a movement of his chin, your face showed confusion, but he was applying the silent treatment. He never did it to you– so that’s how you knew to do what he says before making it worse.

So that’s how you find yourself naked on his bike, trying to do the best you can to cum for a second time while Megumi watches, sitting on the chair jerking off his cock–. the needy mushroom tip showing how close he was, his balls visible swollen because of how he was edging himself, making sure “to save as much cum to dump it inside of you and mark you as his”

Breed you like an animal the moment you wet his bike again, leaving marks that would last days, just so the other fuckers know to not get near anything that it’s his.

sukuna ryomen

He would ignore the bike tbh.

This man wouldn’t care where he is, the moment he saw you next to his bike he knew he had to fuck you– he knew you had to mark it with your arousal caused thanks to him and that’s how he would remember you even far away from you.

But let’s be real now, this man would fuck you the moment he feels blood near his cock, it doesn’t matter anything else than you and his cock. Just pounding inside you, breeding you, and training you while you ride him saying “it’s the same shit if you want to ride a bike”

Not that he'st wrong, but you wouldn’t have a dick touching your g-spot everytime and something overstimulating your clit. But basically the same– yeah…

#gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #nanami kento smut #megumi fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #megumi fushiguro #sukuna ryomen #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #megumi smut #sukuna smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #romy's writings #gojo #geto #nanami #megumi #sukuna

[wandaromanoffroses]

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

#black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x y/n #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

#jjk #jjk x reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #jjk x black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #toji x y/n #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji x female reader #🎧

[c0eu4]

CL16 | Mine ♡

Request

Summary: One of y/n's friends was too close to her at a party and Charles makes it clear to her in the evening when they returns home.

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, dom! Charles, sub!Reader, jealous!Charles

A/N: I'm so fucking dumb. Again it was an request but I post it while it wasn't finish so I had to remake everything. Pls kill me for my dumbass.

MASTERLIST requests are open

She was smiling as she chatted with Mark, one of her friends at a party. The music was blasting around her and the lights were colorful.

''So are you free this Saturday?'' He asked her, leaning against the kitchen island, with a sly smile on his lips. Before she could answer, she heard a voice behind her.

''She's busy.'' Charles hissed, putting his hands on her hips. Y/n chuckles softly, seeing Mark's face getting all white. Given their relatively recent and private relationship, not a lot of people knew about it.

''Oh..uhm..well..'' Mark smiles nervously as Charles doesn't leave his black gaze, really not smiling.

''Uhm.. I let you both, I have something to do.'' Mark left them, walking quickly and forgetting his drink. ''Coward.'' Hissed Charles, downing Mark's glass in one go.

''You scared him.'' She turns around to face him, putting her arms around his neck. ''I don't share.'' He kisses her tenderly, contrasting with his past behavior. ''Let's go dance, ok?'' She tries to see his smiles again, dragging him to the dancefloor.

They dance together to the deafening rythme of the music. Charles keeps Y/n close to him, feeling her small body moving against him. They dance close, very close. The tension is growing. And they quickly start to feel hot.

''Gonna get us something to drink.'' She scream med over the loud music to his ear. He simply kisses her cheek, already joining some friends to dance with them.

Meanwhile, Y/n doesn't directly go to the kitchen. She feels so hot that she take a break and goes outside, feeling the cold air of the summer night sending shivers down her spine, her tight dress which didn't cover her very much.

Nobody is there. Well, not really. Mark comes behind her, without making any noise. He puts his hands on her hips but she doesn't react. Charles love to put his hand there too, so for her it's him. She feels Mark's breath on her neck giving her goosebumps.

''You have such a good ass in this tight dress..'' Her eyes widen when she doesn't recognize Charles's voice. She just freezes, unable to move. Mark made her turn around to face him, a grin on his face.

He leans down to kiss her, her eyes already dropping a few tears. She closes her eyes, waiting to feel his dirty lips on her soft one. But she never feels it.

She heard Mark's moan and the sound of someone being hitting. She immediately opens her eyes, seeing Charles on top of Mark, hitting his face with his clenched fist.

She doesn't know what to do. She's frozen, Charles' fist hitting Mark's cheek over and over. She finds the strength to call him, but he doesn't answer, goo busy hitting the man below him.

So she comes closer and she gives him a hug, waiting for him to calm down. And he calms down quickly, feeling Y/n's arms around his waist. He gets up and she pulls away from him, leaving Mark on the ground, bleeding.

''Ch-Charles.. w-what did you do?'' Charles' breathing was quick. He was so angry that even when he answered her, he was aggressive. ''He touched you.''

He violently grabs her arm, making her moan in pain, ''Cha! Careful!'' He dragged her towards his car and she quickly understood that it was the end of the party.

During the whole way back to their flat, it was so calm. Charles seems to be less angry but his hands were firmly on the steering wheel. Y/n tries to make her mind clear. All of what just happened was a bit traumatic for her. What if Charles wasn't here? What Mark could have done?

''Forget about him. You're safe now.'' Charles finally breaks the ice. One of his hand finally left the steering wheel to go on her thigh. He rubs it softly, tracing random pattern on it.

''I'm sorry.'' She managed to say. She doesn't even know why she was excusing herself. ''You did nothing wrong chérie.'' darling. He tries to reassure her. ''I should have moved. He was about to kiss me! And I did nothing!'' she was now angry at herself. Angry that she doesn't move. Angry that she doesn't do anything to stop Mark.

''It's normal, mon cœur.'' My heart. She doesn't answer, waiting for the long way back to finish. As they finally reached the underground parking lot and Charles parked the car, they got out of it and Charles immediately took her hand in his.

They go to the elevator, call it, wait for it and enter it. Charles didn't even wait for the door to be close that he pins Y/n against the wall in front of them, kissing her hardly. He puts his hands exactly where Mark puts his, but he squeezes it hard, almost making bruises.

She didn't push him away, already feeling her arousal growing between her legs. Charles let his hand move along her body, making her moan in the kiss. His hand found her wet panties, running his thumb through her folds over her panties. ''Ch-Charles..'' He kissed her neck, leaving a few red marks. ''Mine.'' His kisses go down her collarbone, almost between her breasts.

The elevator door opened and he urged her to their flat. He quickly opened the door and pinned her against it, moving his hips against hers. He pulls up her dress, runs his hands over her ass and she jumps against him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He walks while carrying her to the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. He gets on top of herw taking off her dress. He doesn't wait any longer to take off her bra, already sucking her left breast. She pulls his hair, showing him her pleasure. Her back arch, Charles sucking a purple spot on her breast.

''Je vais prendre soin de toi toute la nuit.'' I'm gonna take care of you all night. His hands slowly go down in her legs, rubbing it with his fingerstip.

He puts himself lower, between her. He quickly took of her panties as a starving man. His lips found her clit, using his tongue to make small circles with. She moves her hips, asking for more. Her hand in his hair tug hardly his now messy hair.

He uses his tongue to stimulate her entering, his fingers rubbing her clit. She was so lucky that Charles had a long tongue. His tongue almost finds her g-spot, putting pressure on it. The knot in her lower abdomen was slowly untied.

''Ch-Charles..I'm..je..suis..jouir..'' I..am..cum.. Charles can't help but chuckle against her pussy. He took a step back to talk to her. ''Say it in a good French and you can cum.'' She whines, the knot in her lower abdomen arching her.

''Damnit Charles! Moi jouir!'' Me cumming. He softly nibbed her inner thighs, indicating her her incorrect sentence. She groans, her walls clenching around nothing. ''I..I'm..Je..Je vais jouir !!'' I'm gonna cum. She moaned loudly, drowning him with her sweet nectar.

Charles gets up from between her thighs, passing his hand throughout his hair to adjust it. His face was shiny from her liquid, his lips red from sucking. He runs his tongue over his lips, wipes his chin and nose with his hand.

She grabs her head, pulling him into a deep kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, him already taking off his clothes. She helped him to take off his t-shirts, watching him closely when he took off his pants and boxers.

He gets up again on top of her, putting his elbows on both sides of her head. He lets his cock slide between her wet folds, making him sigh in relief. He finally slid inside her, his fat cock burring deep into her tight and wet cunt.

He doesn't even wait for her to get used to his size and already make her moan so loud. He hide his head in the crock of her neck, muffling his own moan, ''Mine..Mine..Mine..'' He moan again and again.

Suddenly, he stands up to see her better from the front and accelerates his movement. ''Who.. make you..ah.. feel so good, hm?'' Her back arch and grips tightly the sheet of the bed. ''You!'' Her eyes roll back as she cum for the second time of the night brutality.

He doesn't wait to feel her wall clenching around him that he pull out, a moan of frustrating escaping her lips. Charles puts his hands on her waist and leg and make her turn around, on her knees.

He goes back into her, already slamming his hips against her ass. ''Not Mark, mh?'' She can't think straight, already getting fucked again after her orgasm. Her moan doesn't have any sens and she can't answer to him because of the plaisur.

He grips her hair, lifting her head up. One of his arms go around her waist, pulling her up against his chest. He keep her against him, nibbing hardly her neck and one of his hands found the way of her clit.

She screams in pleasure, Charles using his hand to make small circles one her clit. ''Who owns this pussy?'' She starts to cry of joy, keeping her orgasm back. ''Y-You!'' He let out a long and deep moan against her ear, ''That's not my name.'' He shows her his athletic body with his incredibly well-controlled breathing and his endurance. ''Who owns this pussy?'' Her wall clench around his fat dick, deep inside her, ''You Sir!'' She still doesn't know if she can cum, but she can't keep it anymore. Her whole body tense up and she cum against Charles's cock hardly, again.

He let her fall back against the bed, thrust in her a few more time and let his hot seed fill her up, ''Bonne fille.'' good girl. As she feels completely full, he slowly take out of her in a wet song, leaving a mess between her legs.

He collapse the mattress next to her, already cuddling her. ''Remeber who you belong to.'' He said, his voice muffling by her hair. He kisses her forehead tenderly, his hand already going between her legs. He takes on his fingerstip a bit of her wet liquid (and surely some of his) and suck it, tasting her again.

''Oh god, Charles you're gonna make me cum again.''

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #help he's so hot #f1 smut #smut #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #ferrari charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 #charles leclerc

[navybrat817]

Anything special for Bucky's birthday?

Something small, nonnie.

For Years or for Hours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is the love of your life and deserves to have a peaceful birthday.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I wanted to do something more, but today got away from me. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun had just risen outside of Bucky’s hut in Wakanda, the rays peeking in and beckoning you to wake up and venture out into the world. You weren't ready to rise and meet the day quite yet. Not when Bucky was beside you, holding you in his sleep like you he’d lose you if he loosened his grip. You wouldn't dare disturb his slumber. Not when he more than anyone deserved to rest peacefully.

So you decided to count the freckles on his nose.

“My beautiful man,” you whispered, placing your left hand on his cheek. “Love of my life.”

The wedding band on your ring finger matched his in design, symbols of the never ending love you had for each other. Time stood still and moved all at once when you said “I do”, but forever didn’t start with your wedding day. It began the day you met. Every moment after that paved a path that entwined, neither of you having to walk alone again.

“One,” you whispered, kissing a freckle on the tip of his nose. You’d never get over the sight of him. “Two…”

You didn’t know Bucky had freckles until he was in your face during a training session, the definition of up close and personal. It was right before you shared your first kiss, which was ages ago and felt like yesterday. He rolled on top of you and pinned your arms above your head, his breathing heavy and eyes stormy as you gazed up at him. Instead of trying to break free of his strong hold, you went lax underneath him and smiled.

“Are you yielding?” He asked, releasing one of your wrists when you made no attempt to move.

“Wow. You have freckles,” you exhaled, brushing his soft brown hair back that fell in his eyes. “I never noticed them before.”

It was as if Bucky removed an invisible mask and allowed you to see his true self for the first time before he pressed his lips to yours. It sparked a flame inside of you that no one could ever put out. And if being in love with him taught you anything, it was that masks hid your true selves and built walls to keep others out. You helped each other knock them down.

He was your partner in every sense of the word.

“Mmm. Tickles,” he mumbled as you kept kissing his nose, his voice throaty and low as he opened his eyes. His broad torso rolled as he arched his back and you had to suppress a shiver when he groaned. “Were you counting my freckles again?”

“You caught me,” you whispered, pecking his nose once more and not embarrassed in the slightest. “I can’t help it. You’re so pretty.”

Amusement filled his eyes as he slid a palm down your ribs to your hip. “I thought you were the pretty one in this relationship, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your cheeks warmed at the reminder that you were his wife. “We can both be pretty, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tilting your head back so he could brush his scruff against your neck. You joked once that people called him the White Wolf because he liked to “scent” and leave his mark on you. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“Why should I go back to sleep, hmm?” He asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss over your racing pulse. It was enough to make you whimper when you tried to find your words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You menace,” you moaned, tugging on his hair for good measure, which only made him let out that lustful groan you loved. “Because it’s your birthday and you deserve to sleep in, old man.”

His first birthday as a married man.

“And we won't say how old I am today,” he said, his hair falling in his eyes as he pulled back and smirked. “And I was kind of hoping I'd wake up with my cock in your mouth.”

“Bucky,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to laugh at his admission as the tingle between your thighs grew. Whatever thought was in your mind went away. It didn't matter. All you could imagine were his eyes staring down at you in wonder and ecstasy as you took him in your throat. “You know what? Fine. Your wish is my command.”

You’d please him with whichever hole he wanted to use.

“But I’m awake,” he teased, chuckling when you silenced him with your lips. He didn't let you pull away, feeling as if the hut tilted on its axis as he deepened the kiss you started. It was like your first kiss all over again. The promise of something more.

A lifetime together.

“Pretend you're asleep,” you suggested when you grudgingly pulled away from his sinful lips. “But if Steve and Sam ask, we woke up to watch the sun rise.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed when you smiled, your heart rate picking up. “Don't talk about those punks when you're about to go down on me,” he half growled.

“Yes, White Wolf,” you teased. They would no doubt message him birthday wishes, along with Natasha and a few others, once they were awake. He deserved all the love today and every day.

Before you could kiss down Bucky's body, he stopped you with a gentle grip. “Wait,” he whispered, his eyes searching your face. You didn't know a gaze could be so soft until he looked upon you. This was a man who knew your hopes, dreams, fears.

And loved you all the while.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked when he reached for your left hand.

“I just love you so much, doll,” he said, running his thumb over the ring as your eyes filled with tears. You blinked them away quickly enough to catch his tender smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

When you got home, you’d celebrate his special day in regular fashion. You’d take him to the new science exhibit that he mentioned wanting to see. The two of you would cuddle up to watch his favorite movie after dinner with the gang. He’d eat the cake you baked just for him. And there would be a present or two for him to open before you went to bed.

But the gift he wanted most was to have a day without a reminder of the fight. Where he could breathe in the air, take in the quiet, and feel a sense of peace with the person he loved beside him. You knew the only way to give him that was to get him out of the city and back to his hut. Even if it was only for a short time.

In his sanctuary, he’d find tranquility on his special day and you’d show him how much you loved him. Memories the two of you would carry for a lifetime. Because he gave you the world by asking you to be his and you’d spend forever making him happy. Just like he deserved.

“I love you, too, Bucky Barnes,” you promised, kissing the freckle again on the tip of his nose. “Happy birthday.”

Oh, Bucky. We love him. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #happy birthday bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the white wolf #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader

[lizzieisright]

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it. 

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 

But it’s so not Abby’s style. 

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 

You pack it in your backpack anyway. 

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.” 

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?” 

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?" 

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am." 

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move. 

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you. 

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 

“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #sub!abby #abby anderson #abby tlou #this is my coping mechanism

[erwinsvow]

“what’s this?” you ask, eyes wide and that pretty smile he likes so much taking over your features. “am i forgetting something?”

like always, you’re hesitant to accept it. no matter what he gets you—fancy dinners at the club, pretty shoes that you keep eyeing at the store, ice cream after one of your frequent dates—you get shy about having him spend money on you. you’re real cute about it, he thinks, when you twirl around wearing the dress from today’s trip before dinner, showing him your new outfit. 

you pick up your flowery heels and carry them in your hand when the two of you are walking along the beach. “i can’t get them dirty, rafe!” is what you tell him when he looks at you like you’re crazy, making your face heat up. he carries them for you the rest of the way. 

you cling to his arm, staring at the new bracelet and enjoying the way it shines in the sun, moves down your wrist when you hang onto rafe. he catches you staring at it all throughout the day, whenever you think he’s not looking. jokes on you—he’s always looking at you. 

“open it,” he says back, wanting to see your reaction. rafe’s gaze is always intense, but it feels even more so right now, your heart thudding fast in your chest. 

“wait, rafe, what did i forget?” “nothing, kid, just open it.”

“i didn’t take you for the type to celebrate monthiversaries.” you rustle through your purse, suddenly feeling nervous, pulling something out and offering it to him on your palm. “all i have for you is.. a pack of gum and some lip gloss. but i think this shade would look great on you, do you want it-”

he rolls his eyes, shoving your hand down so the items in your hand fall. 

“stop being a brat and just open it, before i take it back.” 

big eyes watching him, you unwrap the yellow ribbon, taking a second to admire it before you notice rafe’s stare, causing you to put it aside and lift the little white box. inside is a pretty, sparkly chain with a cursive R pendant hanging from it. 

you look up at rafe and then down at the necklace, confusion twisting over your face. your breath catches in your throat, eyes getting watery immediately.

“you like it?” he asks, voice low and serious. when he brings his hand to your chin to lift your face up so he can take a look at you, tears overflow and spill down your cheeks. he balks, panicking. “what, kid? did i get the wrong color or somethin’?”

“rafe-” you say, voice quiet and whimpery, choked up with your crying. you pull him into a hug, crawling into his lap, softly sobbing into his neck. he’s scared shitless for a second, wondering what the hell he did wrong because he thought you would love it—since you’re always blabbing on and on about how you like it when he marks you up and everyone knows who you belong to. he rubs your back and strokes your hair, wondering if he can take it back to get you one you’ll like, when you pull away to give him a hot, wet kiss. it goes on for minutes, your hands in his hair and his hands on your hips.

“wait, so you, you like it?”

“i love it, rafe.” you lean back in to finish the kiss. when you pull away, you’re not smiling like you usually are. “but this is too much. you’re spending so much on me-”

“because i want to,” he interjects, eager to not let you finish your sentence.

“it’s not okay,” you whine, trying to pull away but rafe holds you firmly in place, still in his lap. “what’re people gonna think if they see-”

“who cares what they think? ‘cause i don’t. if i wanna get something shiny for my girl, i’m gonna. no one’s gonna stop me, not even you.” he watches you take in his words, eyes wide and little head spinning. “now be a good girl, let me put it on.”

you comply automatically, like always, turning around and holding your hair up so he can put the necklace on easily. your body shivers at his touch, almost starts shaking when he clips the necklace into place and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, if he wasn’t holding you tight.

“now, what'd you say?”

“thank you, daddy.”

#.... #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #self indulgent.... no.... never... couldnt be me

[jungkookstatts]

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

#th #kim taehyung #tae #taehyung #kimtaehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyungxreader #taehyung x y/n #taehyungxy/n #taehyung fanfiction #taehyungfanfiction #bts fanfiction #btsfanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #taehyungimagine #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x female reader #taehyung smut #taehyungsmut #btsimagine #taehyungoneshot #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x y/n

[thebellearchives]

I wish you would write a fic where Yuuji Itadori kisses the scars you’re self conscious about and comforts you

𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒

~ itadori yuuji ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : even when you may not feel like the prettiest person out there, there’s someone who will always look at you with eyes of wonder, and he’ll make sure you see it too

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : fem!reader, fluff, stablished relationship, pet names (babe, love)

‧₊˚ a / n : yuuji is the standard besties never settle for less 😩 !!

The pale contrast of your scars on your skin is too harsh on your eyes. And still, you stare at them on the mirror with a sudden hatred. Usually, you would just cover them and pay them no mind as long as they’re not visible, but covering them up lately has been hell, almost to a literal extent. Summer had not been very forgiving, and the marks you got in a fight last spring weren’t just fading away for the season. Tears of frustration started to prickle the corners of your eyes, an angry scowl taking over your features as you scanned the way your favourite white corset top looked now on your body. How were you supposed to wear it now that your arms didn’t look the way they did before?

“Hey are you ready yet? The place is nearby you don’t have to get all dressed up babe” Yuuji’s voice and knocks on your door startled you.

“Yeah I’m done, sorry!” you quickly picked up a hoodie and put it on before opening the door.

Yuuji moved away from the door a bit, his brows rising up and staring you up and down.

“What?” you cleared your throat, putting your hands on the pockets of your hoodie.

“What’s with the hoodie?”

“Nothing” you shrugged casually.

He sighed and crossed his arms on top of his chest.

“Just to be clear, you agreed to come with me for ice cream” he rose an eyebrow, you shifted your weight from one side to the other as his questioning started to make you uncomfortable.

“Yeah?”

“Because it’s insufferably hot today”

“…no, because I want ice cream” you corrected, trying to wave off the questions with your hand, nonchalantly.

“… so you don’t think it’s hot today?” his honey eyes started to try and read your face and your reactions, so you just decided to walk past him and towards the front door.

“No way, i just want ice cream Yuuji” he immediately caught your arm, so you turned to him and rose your brows “don’t you?”

“No I do, obviously” the concern in his eyes sent a wave of guilt down your throat, you bit the inside of your lip “but you’re acting weird… are you okay, are you sick?”

“Wha-” Yuuji tried to place the back of his hand on your forehead, so you giggled a little and caught his wrist to move it away gently “no, I’m fine love, really”

This time he ended up frowning, shaking his head immediately.

“Don’t lie to me, I know something’s up. What’s wrong?”

Sighing, you hugged yourself and glanced away, trying to find the correct words to explain the situation. You didn’t like lying to him at all, but the topic had you on edge since the heat of the season filled the days.

“… it’s the scars Yuuji” you finally admitted “I don’t want people to see them”

Yuuji’s face immediately turned into surprise, even blinking a couple of times as he heard your words. Slowly, the realisation of you still wearing long sleeves and jackets outside lately hit him.

“What do you mean? When I’m here with you you don’t cover up.”

“Yeah but it’s you, it’s different. I love you and I’m comfortable with you.”

“But you’re so pretty! You’re not planning on covering up for the rest of your life, are you? I want everyone to see how stunning my girlfriend is!” he smiled brightly, catching you by your waist and pulling you closer.

He started peppering your cheeks and jaw with kisses, making you laugh.

“Yuuji! Stop, seriously!”

“No, come on take that dumb hoodie off, it’s crazy hot out there!” In the middle of your laughs, Yuuji started to take off your hoodie, making sure to tickle you and just stopping the kisses to pull it over your head “oh my god look at you, you’re even wearing your favourite top, how dare you keeping the world from this wonderful sight, you look beautiful!”

Catching your breath, you fixed your hair, chuckling and feeling the tingling of a slight blush under the skin of your cheeks.

“You’re the only one who thinks that”

“Everyone would have to be blind to not be able to see it as well” Yuuji picked up one of your arms, kissing a scar that went across your shoulder “you’re super smart, you’re terribly cute” his kisses started to travel down your arm as he spoke, making a small smile appear on your lips “you have the loveliest voice and the softest skin and the most incredible eyes” he finished up by kissing a scar on your wrist before glancing up at you, his eyes almost shining as soon as they rested on your face “and the most captivating smile ever.”

You stared back at his pretty face with tender eyes, the soft smile of your lips almost indelible.

“You’re the sweetest…”

“No, you are” he cupped your cheek with his right hand, his thumb caressing your cheekbone gently “I promise to you that your scars will never outshine the warmth of your smile”

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in before taking his face in your hands and reaching to place a small, soft kiss on his lips.

“Thank you love, you’re the best and sweetest and most adorable guy I’ve ever met”

He smiled widely, almost looking like a happy puppy.

“Thank you. Can I now take my stunning girl out for a very romantic ice cream?” you chuckled, nodding a little “good, you’ll see that I’ll make sure you won’t have time to worry about anything else besides me and your ice cream cone”

#; fluffy belle #yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #yuuji x y/n #itadori x reader #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #itadori jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen

[seattlesellie]

hi angelll 🦋 I was wondering if you could write something about ellie having a dacryphilia kink, if not that’s okay I know it’s a little bit out there 🩵

not out there at all bb <3

ellie fucking loves in when you cry.

warnings: darcyphilia, public sex

fucking titanic. so cheesy, too.

little muffled soft sobs were escaping your mouth. sometimes watching a film in the theater made it feel… well, real. eyes locked on the screen, you couldnt help but feel pain. why did it have to happen to them? and that little old couple holding hands? and oh god - jack and rose were on that fucking door now too? youve watched that shit about a million times already, and it never failed to make you act like this. is the salty taste on your tongue from the buttery popcorn or from your flood of tears?

“mmph” you scrunched your nose, sniffling, trying to hold the snot inside.

and then there was ellie. munching on that popcorn, eyes focused on the screen, caressing your thigh, comforting you. did she just - hold in a giggle?

“s’not- not funny” you sniffled, josteled her, making her head bob.

“know its not, babe- just, so cute” she whispered, her lip curling into a sly smile. “so cute, youre so cute” she while smiling, and shoved another popcorn in her mouth.

“how are you not crying?!” you blurted out, utterly flabbergasted. how was she so calm about this? you could feel your own body trembling, tears clinging to your cheeks like pesky little irritants, and she didn't seem remotely fazed? It's rose and jack, for christs sake! theyre destined for a tragic end! not to mention the sinking ship, the countless lives at stake, and, oh my god, what if there were innocent animals aboard? what if there's a helpless puppy trapped in that chaos? that thought alone is just...

you let out a loud sob. what if?!

“shh… shh… gonna get us kicked out” she cooed, gently brushing away yet another warm tear from your cheek.

you turned your gaze back to the screen, desperately attempting to swallow the lump lodged in your throat. “els- cant not cry” you whimpered, followed by a sniffle and another plaintive whine.

ellie didnt turn her head back, however. ellie was staring at you, squinting her brows. ellie was supposed to watch the movie. but ellie had a different one playing in her head.

the way you uttered her name, a soft, pleading whine, oh… the way that sweet voice made her feel. your words spun her mind in dizzying circles.. “els… too tight” sniffle. she almost heard it echoing in her head. “hurting me, els” oh god. “s’too much ellie…” shit. she felt like she was writing a script. jack and rose didnt have shit on her.

she gulped. you didnt notice.

her left hand reached out to caress the dampness you had left upon her shoulder. she lightly pinched the fabric, witnessing a small droplet of moisture emerge, wetting her fingertip.

she was sick.

she shifted in her sit, slid off it slightly, and started shaking her leg.

focus on the movie, ellie. theres people around.

it was suddenly too hot, and her heart was beating too fast. why did she… like this? why did those tears, why did those whines… why were her boxers feeling tighter on her body?

she cleared her throat silently. eyes on the screen, ellie.

“hug me ellie” you whined.

can you stop fucking whining?

“of course” she whispered, and shifted to get closer. she wiped a tear from your eye. she wasnt laughing now. “put your head on my chest” she commanded. stay close right there, right there.

your tears continued to flow unabated. a wet patch had formed on her white tank top, marking the spot where your emotions had spilled over. one of your tears trickled down her chest, forging a path akin to a meandering river.

she felt like scratching herself. like slapping herself in the face. she listened to your soft breaths, and occasional sniffs.

she wondered if she could make you cry like that. wondered if youd sniff like that, if youd whine like that, when she was buried deep inside. could she circle your little clit with her thumb? and then could she wipe that tear off your cheek - with that same finger?

she gulped again. it was way too uncomfortable now, and why did you have to wear that top? why did you have to bring her here? why did your whines sound so cute, and why did she need to touch you right now and be the only reason for your tears?

fuck rose and jack. and fuck that ship.

her hand was still resting on your thigh. but it was moving now, ever so slightly, caressing it. she wanted to push it, push your buttons. she traced little circles on your thigh, and pretended to watch the flick playing on the screen.

her hand climbed futher up, and she was observing you intently from the corner of her eye.

your breath hitched up. “tickles” you murmured, in between sniffles.

“sorry” she whispered. she wasnt.

“you really are cute, though” she smirked.

every time she talked - its like you missed a scene. what if jack just died? what it he died and then your girlfriend called you cute and now you missed it?

“watch the movie, ellie” you warned.

like you could ever fucking warn her.

“m’watching it” she responded. “watching the movie.” if you were the movie you referred to, yeah, she was watching.

she planted a little kiss on your cheek. the old man sitting besides you sniffed. oh man, was he crying? the thought triggered yet another tear to cascade down your face. it felt as if someone had left a faucet running, the tears flowing without restraint.

her hand was caressing higher on your thigh now, and she squished the fat on the side. it almost hurt. ellie was wheezing now, she tried to hold her breath, but she couldnt.

she cupped your cunt, without warning.

shit.

her gaze adverted to the people sitting on the sits next to you. she was checking if theyd notice if she fucked you with her fingers right now.

the sudden contact made you jump. her hand was so warm, and it somehow managed to press right on your clit, and it tickled, but it felt so so good… but jack- but oh, ellie.

“what are you doing?” you whispered frantically. the lady sitting next to you cleared her throat. you didnt really whisper, apparently.

“i told you… youre cute” ellie whispered into your ear, her warm breath gently caressing your skin.

“and i like it when you cry”

oh.

you didnt respond. was the movie still rolling? your cheeks were still wet. your breathing got heavier.

she caressed your cunt through your jeans, and crossed her legs. she needed her own type of friction, too. her index finger went up and down the hem of the jeans located right on your clit. she was teasing it, pressing slightly. you spread your legs, involuntarily, almost. you looked at her with this look, it was filled with doubt, but god did you look needy, and pathetic, eyes glistening and cheeks burning. it drove her crazy.

“dont look at me, look at the screen” she commanded, brought her hand to your chin, pinched it and forced your face to shift towards the screen again. you tried to, tried to fixate on the moving characters, but fuck - it felt too good, and you needed more.

“gonna fuck you right here, gonna give you a real reason to cry, yeah?” she whispered, and you shivered. her pupils were blown out. for all she knew the movie was over and the credits rolled up. for all she knew a mall cop was standing right in front of you, she didnt really give a fuck.

“mm- yeah?” you whimpered, and slapped your hand on your mouth. fuck, you needed to stay quiet. this could definitely put you on a list.

ellie took the popcorn container and placed it on your crotch.

“shut up” she whispered in your ear, making you moan a string of curse words.

she shifted her eyes towards the screen, and pretended to watch.

her hand skillfully opened the button of your jeans, and fuck, you were shaking.

she played with the band of your panties with her veiny hand, gave it a twist and started pulling it up. it was grazing over your clit so good. you held back a moan, eyes rolling back.

your heart was beating so fast. what if people saw? what if-

ellie let go of your panties, and slid her hand right in. god, you were soaking, and you didnt even notice. she chuckled. shed give you shit for it later. “how are you always so wet for me?” its like you could read her thoughts.

her middle finger played with your sleek, brushing it up and down so slowly. she wanted to fucking taste it. pull your pants down, and start licking your pussy in front of everyone, giving them a real good fucking show. your mind went blank. ellie, ellie, ellie. that was the name of the movie playing now.

she bit her knuckle. she fucking loved teasing you, but fuck did she need to put a finger in, fuck- did she need to feel how tight you swallow it in, how your hole just clenches, how it owns her, holding her locked inside.

she wanted to - but she couldnt. make her cry.

her finger merely grazed your tight hole, teasing it. she wouldnt go inside, absolutely not. she caressed it up and down, and side to side, and then almost, almost let it slip inside, but pulled back. your mouth was watering, you wanted to chase that climax - you felt like you could come right then and there, just from knowing, just from feeling her hand on your cunt. the noise that came out was disgusting, her hand was covered in your sweet juices, creating obscene squelching sounds.

you whimpered in your sit, and tried pushing your hips forward. if she didnt put it inside, you needed to feel at least something on your clit. she was purposely avoiding it. its like you were cockwarming her hand. “m’god” you gulped.

“yeah?” she whispered into your ear and cupped your cunt again, and you turned your needy gaze to her for just a second. her eyes were closed and her eyebrows were squinting, you could hear her heavy unsteady breaths.

you whimpered, and bit your lips so hard they bled slightly. keep fucking quiet, she told you to shut up.

with her hand cupping your cunt, she began moving it up and down, grabbing your entire pussy with her hand. the popcorn container moved with it, bobbing up and down. fuck, thank god its dark.

she gave your clit a pinch, and it fucking hurt, but it felt so good, sending small jolts of pleasure to your body. she wouldnt let it go, just pinched it, and then released, and pinched it again. you needed to cum so bad, you almost cried. “m’ellie… ellie” you whispered while moaning her name, chanting it like a prayer. almost there, almost exploded all over her warm hand,

its like she read your mind. “dont cum” she whispered in your ear, making you let out a muffled moan.

you nodded your head frantically, trying to swallow the moans threatening to leave your mouth.

a tear formed in your eye. you needed it so bad.

she formed circles with her cupped hand again. you could feel everything. you took your sweater covered hand and bit it down.

she was panting in her sit.

“thats it” she whispered in your ear, and pinched your pussy lips together, so swollen, so pathetic.

the hot tear came down so fast, dropping on your cheek, and then sledding down on your neck, on your chest now.

“cry about it” she commanded, whispering in your ear, trying to hold back her own sounds of pleasure.

so you did.

#anon 🎀 #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams blurb #wlw

[quickandsilvers]

REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡

💤💤💤💤

peter and reader are the closest best friends can be, even having the biggest crush on each other they keep pretending they don’t.

one day, they fall asleep together at peters bed after a movie night, and reader ends up having a wet dream with him.

peters wakes up spooning asleep reader while she’s quietly moaning and rubbing herself against him…….. BE CREATIVE I LOVE ALL YOUR CONTENT 💞💘💕💖💓💕💗💖💘

UHM YES?!?!

A:N- Sorry this took so long to get out, i wasn’t liking how dragged out it was so i had to edit a lot of this!! I hope you like it though🩷🤍🩷

Wet Dream 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has quite the raunchy dream about Peter one night. Spoiler alert; he’s right there to see it 👀

Warnings: switch!Peter, slow burn, kissing, grinding, humping, oral sex(fem receiving), unprotected P in V, fingering, hand job, porn with plot, Peter comes like 3 times before p in v even happens.. THE WHOLE PACKAGE PEOPLE!!!

Word Count: 6914 (had to shorten it sos!!)

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

After a long week at the mansion, softened by your regular visits to the record store with Peter, you were finally free for a long weekend with your best friend and you had decided to celebrate with a movie marathon in your dorm room.

A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.

Your roommate, Jean, was bunking with Scott tonight; and you had grasped the opportunity for a several hour long marathon- complete with bowls of sugary snacks and two-litre bottles of soda.

“You ready?” you asked Peter as he stumbled into your living room with a variety of cake snacks in his grasp.

“Hol’ on-” he grumbled, brows furrowing in concentration as he dumped the plethora of cake snacks onto the coffee table in front of you.

Fwip.

Your eyes trained on your best friend, who was now in your kitchen jabbing numbers into your microwave.

You watch, amused, as Peter impatiently taps his foot against the tiles, closely observing the popcorn in the microwave rotate. With every pop of a kernel came Peter’s childish explosion mimic in response. Sighing, you lean back into your seat.

You were sitting on an old, yellow 70's style vintage leather couch. Its material was ripped in various places, allowing bits of white fluff to peak through the tears. These fissures in the leather scraped across your bare legs, leaving little red marks each time you moved.

Peter was the one to ‘buy’ the couch for you when you first moved into the mansion, arguing to your horrified self that the piece of furniture had ‘character and personality’ to it.

The couch was tatty and torn apart, but you couldn’t find yourself able to get rid of it, despite Charles’ frequent offers to replace it free of charge.

It was by no means comfortable, but you found that you were able to sit back and relax soon enough.

As you heard the finishing beep of the microwave and Peter’s elated exclamation of delight, you got up to rifle through a box of DvD’s, searching for the first movie of the night.

Peter, busy with squirting a sickly amount of caramel sauce on his popcorn, gave you a bit of time to get ahead and choose the movie before he could pipe in with something like E.T. You swore you could recite that film backwards from the sheer amount of times Peter forced you to watch it.

Kneeling in front of the cabinet you began to sift through your collection.

The shining? You cringed at the thought. Granted, you absolutely adored the film, but watching it with Peter was something you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. You were jumpy enough without Peter’s sudden ‘BOO!’ yelled down your ear just before a scare.

Pretending to be scared and cuddling into your best friend was pretty nice though; that boy had enough body heat to put Lucifer to shame.

You grab a pile, rifling through them in quick succession. Ghostbusters? You had watched that last week. Grease? No one wants to see Peter’s Danny Zuko impression. E.T? Think again, motherfucker.

By the time Peter had proudly walked in with his creation, you had narrowed it down to 2 films. You turned to smile at him, and he flashed you a broad grin as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth before appearing next to you.

Fwip.

The speedster peered over your shoulder at your movie picks and cocked a silver brow.

“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.

You shudder. Whether it was due to the abominable mention of that ghastly excuse for a film, or the obnoxious chewing in your ear, you weren’t sure.

You gaped up at him. “Whaddaya mean? Carry on films are classics! Better than a film we’ve seen 12 times already.”

You weren't even lying.

“I dunno, it’s jus’ the same sex-crazed people recitin’ the same half-arsed scripts for 30 films straight. Don't even get me started on the laughin’ tracks, babe.”

You shoot up and point an accusing finger at his pajama-clad chest. “This film deserves way more respect than the utta bullshit you’re tryna spew!”

Peter presses his lips into a line to avoid a snicker, smirking knowingly at you and holding up a caramel coated finger to your own chest.

“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.

You whine and Peter smirks at catching you out, raising his eyebrows and walking backwards onto the couch, licking his finger and closing his eyes to relish in the sugary goodness.

“That’s not fair!” Your voice raises a few octaves as you eye his adam’s apple in motion, before continuing to search through your stack, “There’s 30 films and you picked the worst rated one!”

“Princess, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Peter responds nonchalantly, hand reaching into the popcorn bowl that he had already ingested three-quarters of. “Once yer’ve seen one, yer’ve seen them all, really.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t really fight his reasoning, instead settling with a short huff. Finally, after a quick eeny-meeny-miny-mo, you picked one of the films and popped the disc into the DVD-player.

“Buuut it is yer turn to choose. And i guess yer did sit through the last one.”

You turn to him. “‘Sit through’? I liked it!”

“Yer eyes were glazed over not even 10 minutes in!” Peter chuckled, “It’s alrigh’, babe. It’s not to everyone’s taste.” Crunch.

“Well atleast i’m not the one geekin’ out the whole way through!” You scoffed, plopping yourself on the couch and knocking knees with your bestfriend “You fuckin’ clapped when RD-23 came on the screen!”

“R2-D2.” He corrected under his breath, his unoccupied large hand moving to rest on your lower thigh.

Peter loooved Star wars and it clearly showed. In this moment he was adorned in a plain black t-shirt and stormtrooper pajama pants, of which hung deliciously on his hips, showing off his V-line which had you watering at the mouth. God, he had such a slutty waist.

He ‘bought’ you a matching pair like ‘all best buds do!’ except yours were little shorts and a smaller black t-shirt.

“We could just watch Revenge of The Sith instead yunno?” You offer, eyeing the slither of skin where his shirt had ridden up.

Peter shook his head, his soft silver locks moving with it. He was still hung up on when you “fainted” at the sight of Harrison Ford. You wouldn’t shut up about how good he looked for his age.

For his age? Pfft! He’s got nothin’ on a mutant with his slow-agin’ genetics!

Clicking play on the remote, you settle back into the cushions with an eager smile as you subconsciously snuggle into your best friend’s right side, easing him into a lying position.

You grin up at him and nuzzle your nose in his cheek. He tickled your side in response, making you erupt in small giggles at the feeling.

Peter happily grabbed another handful of popcorn as he watched the film, looking for a piece drizzled with extra caramel.

“Oi, not gonna share?” You jokingly pout, tugging on his wrist to take it out of the bowl.

Peter froze as he realized he had just grabbed the last of the popcorn.

Whenever you had movie nights in either of your dorms, Peter always fought you for the last of the popcorn. You always acted upset, but he knew you always saved the last bite for him.

He hadn’t thought twice, assuming you left it for him, but what if you were actually angry?

But when he tore his eyes from the comedy and peeked over at you, you were grinning teasingly at him. Peter relaxed, and threw the popcorn into his mouth. When he bit down, he winced as his tooth nearly cracked on an unpopped kernel. Curse that goddamn microwave.

“Serves you right!” You snort, sticking your tongue out at him and laughing at the speedsters' screwed up expression.

“Go ahead, princess, laugh at my pain!” Peter groaned, rolling the kernel around in his mouth until he had positioned it just right so he could spit it out at you.

You shriek as it catapults onto your cheek and bounced off somewhere in the sofa. You grab the decorative pillow you had been hugging and hit him over the head with all the strength you could muster.

When you aimed another blow to his chest, Peter caught it, and easily tugged it out of your unsuspecting grasp. You huff and lay down on the armrest, snatching a quilt laying over the back of the couch and smothering yourself with it.

Peter dove down into the back of the couch beside you and pulled the quilt over his legs, his sock-clad feet sticking out of the material and over the other side of the furniture.

His mood changed quickly: energetic and playful, and in mere moments, calm and collected.

It was helpful, sure, as he could match your energy easily and keep a conversation going.

But it’s not that great having to take over as tour guide for new students when their prior escort falls asleep whilst showcasing the professor’s english lectures. Or perhaps that was a fault of Charles’ monotonous presentations?

“Ready?” You ask, spreading the comforter over the two of you.

“Ready,” Peter affirmed with squinting eyes, and you chuckled at his tone. You knew how he took movie marathons, claiming it to be an ‘olympic sport’.

Clicking play on the remote, you settled back again, this time into his chest as he wraps a strong arm around your waist.

It still made your heart all fluttery when he did so, and you thanked the lords above you weren’t facing him, revealing your cheeks dusted with crimson.

Peter tilted his head. “What’s this one?”

“One’a my favourites.” You answered quietly.

By 20 minutes in, all soda bottles had been drained (courtesy of Peter) and abandoned in the middle of the coffee table. You had intertwined your legs with him, and Peter’s arm was now slung over your hips.

A yawn slipped past your lips, which you thought was a miracle that it had taken this long for your first sign of weariness, and your best friend glanced over at you with a knowing smile.

“I thought yer said that yer weren’t tired.” He teased, tongue in cheek.

“I never said that,” you yawned again, “I said I wanted to do movie night.”

“We can do this another time–”

“I wanna do this.” You placed your hand on his arm along your body to stop him from talking. “I’ll stay awake.”

Peter gave you another knowing look and you stared right back at him. After a few moments, he sighed and gave in.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” He put his hand up in mock defense. After a moment more of looking at your heavy blinks, he sighed softly. “Oh, c’mere.”

As if you weren’t already impossibly close, Peter slid his left arm under your body, moving you further towards him with a grunt and practically cradling you. You rest your head against his shoulder, melting into the familiar position with ease.

Anyone who walked in on you would think you were in your honeymoon phase, but you knew better than that. What you had didn’t need a label. You didn’t even know what label you could put on yourselves. But it didn’t matter. You were best buds. And that was enough for you.

You weren't entirely sure when you had closed your eyes. The movie was like white noise in the background, unintentionally lulling you off into sleep. You heard a soft chuckle and knew Peter had finally noticed that you hadn’t kept up your end of the bargain.

“Jus’ restin’ my eyes…” you mumbled as an excuse, yet failing to open them.

“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.

You were right on the cusp of conscious and unconscious, and right as you were about to topple over, you felt his lips on the top of your head. They lingered for 5, 10, 30 seconds. Your smile didn’t fade the entire time his lips were touching your head, nor did it fade when he moved away.

‘I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me in other places.’ You thought to yourself with a sigh.

You were aware of Peter shuffling to get comfortable and pressing into your side, lingering a light boop to your nose with his finger and observing your features as you teetered off the brink of consciousness.

——————————————————————————

Soft, supple lips fluttered down the side of your neck.

You smiled and squirmed at the pleasure brought on by the teeth that slowly scraped along your collar bone and gently nipped across the front of your throat.

The hot breaths that caressed your skin with each sensual kiss and nip set your blood on fire and forced moisture to pool between your legs.

Looking up, you saw twinkling chocolate brown eyes behind sections of silvery hair staring down at you. Your eyes widened with embarrassment when you realized who was on top of you, grinding into you slowly.

Peter ran his hand through your hair and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. He ran his lips down the sides of your crimson cheeks and down the front of your neck, biting the sensitive flesh where the neck and shoulders meet. You tilted your head to the side and sighed.

The speedster ferociously claimed your lips once again. He pressed himself between your legs and teased your center with a purposeful, slow grind. You moan, wrap your arms around him and rake your fingernails up and down his back, deep and hard enough to leave proof of the sinful pleasure building inside you.

Suddenly, Peter tore his puffed lips away from you. You gazed into his eyes and watched him smile a surprisingly effective seductive smile, nothing like the attempted smolders he had sent your way before. He slid down your body and stopped by your feet. He spread your legs wide before him.

"...Peter, what...?" you began, but your words caught in your throat.

Peter arched your leg over his shoulder and began to softly place deliberate kisses up your leg. Each graze of his wet lips scorched your skin and left a trail of endless fire burning in their wake.

You laid beneath Peter's touch, flushed and writhed in torturous pleasure. Bolts of what felt like lightning shot down your spine. Heavy pants escaped your body, chest heaving, as he kissed higher and ran his tongue along the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your trembling limbs.

“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”

Without warning, Peter latched onto your swollen clit and pulled it between his lips.

You arched off the sweat slicked couch and shoved your hands deep into his ruffled, untidy hair. You cried out and yanked his hair each time you felt him wrap his powerful tongue around your clit. The pleasure he built inside you was intoxicating and frankly, dangerous. You felt as if you might burst into heavenly fire.

Peter looked up at you through heavy lidded eyes. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and slid up your body once more. He trailed kisses up your stomach and pinched a hard nipple between his fingers. You quietly moaned, silently hoping this would never stop.

Breathing heavily and licking his lips, Peter settled himself on top of you. He kissed your bare shoulder and ran his teeth up your throat as he did prior. He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.

"Princess..." he whispered. You could feel hot breath caressing your neck.

You squirmed beneath him, reveling at the feel of his hardness pressed against your center. You felt his dick twitch when it came in contact with the slick dripping from your core.

"Babe..." soft moaning graced your ears. He tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

He reached between your thighs. You bucked against his hand as you felt him slide his long finger inside you.

"C'mon," Peter begged, pleading for your sweet noises.

He slid in a second finger. You arched your back and moaned when his fingers began teasing the spot that would send you over the edge. He used his thumb to push down on your clit, vibrating it delicately. You closed your eyes as you threw your head against the rough couch, Peter wrapping his hot mouth around your swollen breast.

“..-up” You furrowed your brows at his inaudible whispers, mumbled against your supple skin.

“Wake up..” heh?

"C’mon. Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open, alarmed and chest heaving. Your body was flushed, covered in sweat. Hair was plastered to the back of your neck and your hands were fisted in your lap. Sitting up onto your elbows, you look around the room with wide and confused eyes.

"Nice dream, princess?" Peter asked, cheeks flushed, yet smirking knowingly.

Oh. OH.

—--------------

Sharing a room with you was normal. It was. Peter knew that. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a thing that platonic friends would partake in, especially comfying up on the couch together, but whats the harm in it?

So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird . Just because he had a small crush on you did not mean that he would let it be weird. You were colleagues, Xmen, and you even spent time together outside of work too! Peter would come to your room to watch old movies, and you would go to his so you could cook and listen to music with him. So he knew he could spend time with you alone, that wasn’t the problem.

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and peter was notoriously known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong whilst snorin’ away next to you. If you overheard something like that, he knew your friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep?

Good thing you did it before him then.

Peter was just doing his own thing, flicking through channels on the 70’s style television on low volume so as to not wake you. Dynasty, Seinfeld, Star Trek… not tonight.

He yelped quietly as Return of The Jedi appears on the screen, changing the channel in quick succession. You had yet to watch the film with him, and Peter didn’t want to ruin it for you by watching it beforehand.

He sighed, shoving the remote down the side of the sofa, nothing seeming to catch his attention.

Nothing, before you let out a low whimper and shuffle back into the heat of his chest.

“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.

You were sleeping soundly, the muted reflection of light streaming in from the TV casting thin slivers of white across your face.

Peter rarely had the opportunity to watch you as you slept, normally being out like a light long before you and not waking up until hours into the afternoon, so he took a moment to indulge himself.

Your hair was an utter mess, with it falling into your forehead and sticking out from where it was smooshed against the pillow. Your lips were slightly parted and dry, and Peter shivered as he finally attuned himself to the soft whisper of your breath hitting his shoulder.

You were beautiful, and his heart clenched with adoration for you. This wasn’t at all what he had expected when he began his job with the Xmen, but he was not complaining in the slightest. Free food, permitted to use Charles’ credit card whenever he pleases, and a smokin’ hot, funny girl cuddling up to him every night; what's not to like?

On second thought, scratch the former two benefits. Peter was quickly banned from using Charles’ card, ever since he took advantage and bought enough cake snacks to put Hostess out of stock for three weeks. He had the best four hours of his life that night.

Peter sighed contentedly, and unthinkingly reached back to brush a few strands of hair from your forehead. Your hair was so soft and smooth and he wanted to run his fingers through it, but even the gentlest touch of him moving your hair from your face had stirred you.

Peter reluctantly curled up on his side with his stomach facing your own, in an attempt to bury his desire to keep touching you. You snuffled out a breath and shifted around, and Peter held his breath, hoping you would fall back to sleep. He was pleasantly surprised when you continued shuffling until your sleep-heated body came into contact, flush with his.

You exhaled deeply and nestled your face into Peter’s neck as his arm came up to drape across your hip. He smiled into his own pillow, pleased with this development, and he relaxed back into your embrace…

…And then nearly rolled out of it again when your pelvis brushed something between his hips. Holy fuck!

Peter immediately thrust his hips forward and away from your jutting, not wanting to take advantage of you in your sleep-induced state, but you grunted in dissatisfaction and thrust your hips closer to him until the burning heat through your shorts was trapped right against Peter’s length again.

As if just feeling that you were horny and dreaming about somethin’ naughty wasn’t enough, you then began to rock your hips into his. Fuckin’ hell!

“-agh-.. princess?” Peter whispered, panic-stricken, feeling his cheeks flame in a combination of embarrassment and excitement. He groaned as his dick twitched in interest in an attempt to reach your alluring heat.

You let out a soft sigh, and the rocking of your hips slowed. Peter wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed, however he ultimately decided it was for the best; he’d rather you to be conscious if you were about to make a massive jump in your platonic relationship to physical.

Despite the already raging boner that was growing and painfully restricted by the confines of his stormtrooper pajamas, Peter let his eyes slip closed, content to cradle you in his arms and go back to sleep. However the solid pressure of your heat on his thigh kept the speedster wide awake.

Then you began moving again.

You pressed your pelvis forward, rubbing your clothed core onto the muscled thigh of Peter’s mid-thigh. Then, you let out a shuddering moan that made all of his wild fantasies about the way you sounded seem entirely tame in comparison.

Your hips were no longer rocking, but they were actively grinding and stuttering against him. Peter could feel the exact shape of your pussy through the scant layers of fabric separating you from him.

Your hand moved to curl around his bicep, firmly anchoring yourself to your best friend. You were breathing raggedly and the motion of your hips was getting faster and deeper, more sensual than ever.

Peter’s own noises failed to be kept silent, as he whimpered in response and rested his forehead into your hair as you frantically humped his thigh.

Jesus fuck, how were you still asleep? And what were you dreaming about that got you this riled up?

Even if he wanted to move, Peter was effectively trapped between your weight and the back of the couch, your motions making the old thing squeak and groan in answer.

Warm, wet heat throbbed between your legs, and Peter desperately wanted to flip you onto your back, rip off your tiny shorts, and fuck you until you both passed out from exhaustion.

You were making the most devastating noises as you rutted your heat against him harder and faster, whining in desire as you worked for your release.

Peter had half a mind to reach down and give you a hand, but he instead gripped on tight to the couch cushions, eyes wide and lips parted in astonishment.

Ohh, he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be lying here, practically taking advantage of you whilst you rubbed yourself upon him. If you were awake you’d be mortified, ohh-, but you sound so good and feel so good and, really, it would be cruel to stop you. Especially when you were enjoying yourself sooo much…

Peter lay there for a few more moments, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore the burning want in his rock hard cock.

Then, you moaned something that had him spluttering in surprise .

“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.

Peter came instantly, covering a guttural moan with his hand.

Holy. Fuck.

You were dreaming about him? Your best bud since forever?

You whined in pleasure as you felt the surge of heat from Peter’s load. Frantically, you arch your hips into his again, once, twice, three more times, before you let out a wrenching moan and stilled behind him.

Peter shivered as he felt his cock throbbing against your core, and as he felt a wet warmth seep through your pajamas and onto his clothed thigh.

Holy-

Peter panted harshly for a few moments as he stayed tightly pressed against you, large hands coming to grip on your arms. Him, really? Of all people you decided to get off to, you chose him! Frankly, he was flattered; and clearly so was his dick.

The fuckin’ thing seemed to have a mind of its own! The sticky, burning mess that had erupted in his Pj’s made him grimace uncomfortably, knowing it would soon dry into a crusty disaster. But the thing seemed to get hard and stay hard whenever he was around you. How embarrassin’!

A glance towards the clock; 12:43. Peter hummed, turning back towards you and lightly squeezing your arm. As you stirred he put on a lazy smirk, hoping the flaming blush in his cheeks had subsided enough by now.

As your eyes snapped open, disoriented, Peter propped himself up on his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nice dream, princess?"

Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.

—-----------------------------

Trying to collect yourself after being awoken, your eyes landed on your best friend, inches away from your own face and wiggling his brows. For mere moments you were puzzled, wondering why his cheeks had more of a reddish tone than normal, then you came to a conclusion.

Oh fuck.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you realized what you had done, placing a hand over your chest and taking a deep, panicked breath. It took a few pounding heartbeats to get the courage to look at Peter. You prayed your demeanor wouldn't give anything away.

"H-Huh?" You replied, braving a glance at him. Oh wow, real smooth.

"I asked, 'nice dream’?" Peter repeated, nonchalantly. His fingers tickled down your arm, only aiding in the nervous sweat that dripped down from your hairline.

"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.

"Well, yer were talkin’ quite a bit, babe. There was a moan a’ two thrown in there. Oh! And a 'Don't stop, Peter!' happened, too." He winked. “I must’ve given you a hella good time, princess.”

Ok sure, maybe he was exaggerating a little. But he reallyyy wanted to know exactly what happened in your dream..

Your cheeks flamed beyond recognition. You were fucked. Or rather, about to be.

"Hmm..." He looked at you with a piercing stare as a dimpled, wry grin split across his face. Before you could react, Peter laughed.

"Oi, shut up!" you giggled, slightly relieved at the humor that came out of this.

Your giggles came to an abrupt stop, however, as Peter shuffled impossible closer to you, his lengthy erection threatening to tear his pajamas. You fought with the Gods themselves not to look down, knowing the tent in the material would expose something you have thought of everytime you’d touch yourself.

A grumble erupted from Peter’s throat, his cocky facade crumbling away with every involuntary rut of your hips.

"How ‘bout yer show me what happened in yer dream?" he suggested, hand snaking around the small of your back as Peter sat up, pulling you into his lap.

You squeaked, nibbling your lip nervously. Peter pressed himself flush to you, his cock pressing against your pelvis angrily. A familiar aching tingle took up residence low in your belly, and you huffed out a shaky sigh as you pressed the ache closer to him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips as he said it, albeit very shakily. Before you could even nod, his lips pressed to yours.

You instantly relaxed into his lap. Peter’s lips were soft and urgent, catching your bottom lip between them.

Your hands pulled him closer by the neck, and he let his hands mold against your waist, urging you closer. Your hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his forehead and carding your fingers smoothly through it, causing him to let out a muffled moan into your mouth. You hummed.

Experimenting, you clumsily tugged at his silvery strands with fevor. With a whimper that had your walls clenching around air, Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to your ass.

He squeezed and pulled you down onto him, letting his lips find your neck. You let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into your pulse point, but you pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks.

“Not above the collar,” You reminded meekly. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what you had done. And everyone knowing that someone like you wanted to do this with someone like him. Take that, Scotty.

“But.. what if I want people to know yer mine?” Peter asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lobe as he said so, nibbling it carefully. You grinned.

“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.”

“Hm?” You smiled as you felt Peter’s brows furrow against the side of your head.

“You belong to me.”

He whimpered. Your eyes lit up, and you simply smirked at him.

“Good boy.” You whispered, and pressed down hard with your hips, rolling them once.

Peter came in his pants. Again.

With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his pajamas. You chuckled through flushed cheeks as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him.

He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Literally and figuratively. And all because you called him a Good boy?

Peter brought his hands up to cover his face, but you caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, breathing heavily, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.

“Awh, did I make you cum?” You rolled your hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity. “That’s so fuckin’ hot.”

“Yer- W-What?” Peter asked, turning back towards you slowly. You were beaming at him.

“The cutest boy, all worked up, jus’ for me.” You arched your back so your clothed tits were shoved closer to the poor boy’s face, yunno, just for good measure.

He blushed again, and swallowed as he grinned back at you. “But what ‘bout yer?”

“What about me?” You asked. Peter’s hands danced along your sides, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples through your shirt.

“Wanna make yer feel good.” He whispered while you gasped.

“What’s stopping you?” You asked with a whisper. Peter surged upwards and began kissing you again, only stopping to finally rip your shirt off and get his hands on your bare breasts.

Peter’s tongue flicked against your own as you moaned against his lips, the feeling of him kneading your tits too much to bare.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot. Such a good, good boy.” You praised, stroking his hair.

He whines, playing with the hem of your shorts and his hips rut, seeking for friction. You take the hint, shimmying your pajamas down off your legs whilst helping Peter with his own.

You salivate at the sight of his lengthy cock, slapping up to hit his abs and glistening from the pearly white release running down it. Thick veins traveled upwards, buzzing from the speedster gene and throbbing with anticipation. His angry red tip leaked, twitching and begging for your warmth.

You use a hand to grip the base of your best friend's cock, his fluid running over your knuckles and providing you with a natural lube. Peter hissed with gritted teeth, watching as you slowly jerked him off with a tight embrace, circling the tip of his dick with your other hand.

“He-hey! Too much!” Peter yelped, bucking his hips up despite his protests.

You complied, stopping your actions briefly before sitting up, aligning your dripping wet entrance with his tip.

Schweeeett.

You laid a hesitant hand over his chest, and gooseflesh sizzled across his skin, sending another bolt of heat to his already overheated cock. He bit his lip to keep himself grounded and to keep from dropping his hand to his pants and rubbing himself to relive the pressure.

He felt so shaky and on edge and so, so horny.

Your lips pressed lightly against his, and while Peter’s brain seemed to short out, his body and his hormones knew exactly what to do and took over. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, anchoring you to him as he flipped over so he was laying on top of you.

You made a breathy little noise, and Peter’s brain finally started up again.

“This okay?” he panted between the gentle little kisses he was peppering across her jaw.

“Almost,” you teased.

Before he could ask what you meant, you looped your leg around his Peter’s and tugged so that he was fully nestled in the cradle of your thighs. He groaned as he felt his aching erection settled against your heat.

He could feel the heat radiating out from your center, and Peter grew impossibly harder.

“Princess” he whimpered, rutting restlessly against you. “Please… fuck, yer feel so good…”

You arched up into him, grinding yourself equally as wantonly against him.

“So do you,” you hissed, tightening your hold around his hips for more leverage.

Your hands wandered aimlessly, but Peter was too lost in the feel of you beneath him, so soft and warm and beautiful. The pressure in his abdomen deepened until it almost hurt.

“I need… I want… Please, babe.. I’m gonna…”

He was well aware he was babbling, but his brain was a little more occupied by the delicious friction his cock was getting against your hot and damp center.

Peter tucked his face into your neck as he focused on the pleasure burning through him, soaring higher and higher until he could barely take it anymore.

You arched up hard against him as your fingers raked through his hair once more, and he was lost.

Deciding he had enough, Peter aligned himself with your entrance and slammed into your wet cunt with one thrust, eliciting a moan from you that threatened the coil in his lower stomach to snap already.

He kissed you once more, this time taking control as his tongue glided across your lips passionately, far from the blubbering mess you made him previously. The taste of caramel and sugar invaded your mouth, trickling down your throat with the same side effect as an aphrodisiac.

With every kiss Peter sped up his frantic motions, rendering you brainless on his dick as you could only focus on the slapping of skin and wet noises of your soaking pussy.

You were about to open your mouth to tell him to hurry up when Peter’s fingers reach between your folds, circling your clit with a steady pace. A loud, shuddering moan echoes around the room.

You don't even realize the noise came from yourself until you feel Peter’s shoulders move against your own because due to his cocky laughs. Airhead.

He was going so fast you couldn’t tell whether he was thrusting in or out, you could only feel an overwhelming pleasure consuming your mind and body.

Just when you thought you were on the brink of feeling the epitome of heaven itself, a buzzing vibration echoed deep within your walls, sending you into a frenzy.

You writhed and clawed at Peter’s back, a wordless plea for him to continue. Faster, Faster. Please.

He mumbled incoherently, which would’ve made you chuckle if you had the ability to do so, as his hips stuttered against your own, hitting a spot that had you clenching his buzzing cock like a vice.

With the remaining piece of consciousness you had left, you reached up to yank on Peter’s hair, forcing his head back as the building pleasure inside you exploded.

Peter let out a wordless cry as the hot coil of tension in his belly snapped, and white hot pleasure took its place.

He was dimly aware that you let out the most beautiful, sexy noise he’d ever heard as you tightened your hold around him, but he was more preoccupied by his cock filling you to the brim of cum that splattered your pulsing walls.

His skin prickled pleasantly, his ears ringing and his vision blurred, and he felt completely weightless. His vision darkened and he held you tight and panted his release into your neck.

“Shiiit,” he gasped, lifting his hips away from you as his cock softened and became too sensitive to be touched.

His arm muscles shook as he hoisted himself away from you, and collapsed onto the couch beside you.

Staring up at the ceiling, Peter let an exhausted grin cross his face as a few aftershocks rolled through him. Gaze shifted, He admired you as you came down from your high, moving to the bathroom to wash your hands and get a rag to clean yourselves up.

When you came back you went to wipe you down, but Peter took the rag from you.

“Sit. I get to take care of yer now. I owe it to yer, babe.” Concentrated, he wiped your dripping cunt with the rag, then making his way to the bathroom to get rid of the dirty towel.

When he came back you were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You smiled meekly up at him and reached out a hand, which Peter eagerly took, gladly letting you pull him in for a hug, with him standing between your knees.

“I really like you, you know.” You said, head resting on Peter’s chest as he stared down at you.

“I know. I really like yer too, babe.”

In answer, you shifted slightly and tilted your head up to face Peter’s flushed cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, and you felt his smile as he pulled away. You could feel his breath as he moved to the side of your face, and placed a kiss on what you were sure was a very rosy apple of your cheek.

As you settled down together for the remaining hours of the night, the tense air between you and Peter had diminished, morphing into one of that had you giddy and excited.

You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.

~~~~

When morning rose and you walked into the briefing room the next morning, you were wearing a scarf, despite the hot Westchester heat. You hadn’t quite caught Peter in time, and he had in fact left a mark.

Of course the whole team noticed.

“Hey, twinkle toes, did you guys have another movie night?” Scott asked from his seat at the back of the room. Luckily Peter was facing away from him, so Scott didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.

“Yer, of course, what’s it to yer?” Peter asked shortly as he turned around, stirring a coffee with six sugars mixed into it.

Scott’s attention was on you, as you were talking to Kurt on the other side of the room.

“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Scott said with a smug smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Peter and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. You had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some you got with.

Scott soon noticed Peter was off, as normally he would be granted with some teasing retort or slap against the back of the head.

“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Peter caught your eye from across the room.

You smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back.

Scott cut himself off when he saw Peter’s wave, turning to see just as your face turned back to Kurt. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Scott exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders. Peter pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Scott exclaimed, pulling him into an awkward hug.

Peter caught your eye again over Scott’s shoulder, and the smile you gave him made him smile right back.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #xmen peter maximoff #peter maximoff smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters headcannons

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list. 

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in. 

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.” 

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears. 

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

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