ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ
ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ
pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa
genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut
summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right?
w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh
the world’s longest list of warnings: alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs
a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3
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ᴅɪʀ��ʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴ
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight.
The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?”
At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence.
“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.
When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”
You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”
“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.”
Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.”
The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.”
Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.
Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?”
You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?”
He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves.
Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning. “Watch me.”
Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.
“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”
You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him.
He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”
You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders.
“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.”
Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul.
“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him.
“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.”
“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”
Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.”
The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”
A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.”
You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”
“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself.
Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”
You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”
Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road.
“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.
The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.
Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”
“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.
“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.
“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”
“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.
“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.
࿏࿏࿏
Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not.
You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin.
“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so.
“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair.
As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway.
“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents.
“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?”
“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.”
“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon.
Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.”
Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?”
“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it.
Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies.
“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual.
Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!”
“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying.
“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold.
“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!”
Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…”
“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically.
“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too.
“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!”
San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.”
Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt.
The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through.
Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!”
“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?”
A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…”
“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”
All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips.
Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?”
You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…”
“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him.
Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them.
The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them.
With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing.
“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length.
San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…”
“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…”
Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.
Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.
They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take.
“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.
Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”
“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow.
“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.
San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”
Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”
Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”
Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted. “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”
Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.”
࿏࿏࿏
“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet.
The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room.
“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…”
Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”
As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest.
You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone.
Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.
Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.”
“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue.
Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out.
“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples.
Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…”
Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?”
“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight.
You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.
“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”
You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did.
“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.
“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.
“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”
“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.
Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.
All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.
Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.
It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after.
“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?”
Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.”
Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”
“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.
“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.
“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum.
Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”
You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…”
It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it.
Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?”
“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?”
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"
You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!”
Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.”
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Honkai Star Rail Men + One Bed Trope
Pairing: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, suggestive, mention of boners, grinding, cuddles, literal sleeping together, kissing, biting, possessiveness, teasing, size difference
A/N: One of my favorite tropes to use in fiction so you bet I will write it for my new favorite blorbos.
Blade would smirk and wiggle his eyebrows at you when he saw the single bed, be half way out of his clothes by the time you finished complaining about it too. You can sleep on the floor if you want but he is for sure gonna be sleeping in the bed. You lay beside him somewhat begrudgingly, that cocky asshole smirk all over his face as he pulls you closer and asks you if you want to know all the things he wants to do to you in this bed.
Caelus is already on the floor by the time you get back from complaining about the single bed. He doesn't really mind sleeping down there, he's slept in worse places and he doesn't want your back to hurt later. He is very surprised when you offer to share the bed. Yeah you'd been dating but... sharing a bed so soon is, well its a lot. Its cute how red his face is just from laying next to you and how quickly he turns his back on you when you give him a kiss on the cheer for good night.
Dan Heng doesn't see what the big deal in it is. You've slept side by side many times in the past, this shouldn't be much different right? Its what he thought before he realized you'd be pressed together all night. He failed to anticipate this factor and now he's dealing with one awkward situation downstairs. What did you expect? He's a man who's in bed with his gorgeous girlfriend and has her body rubbing against his, of course he's gonna have... that kind of reaction. Take care of it for him?! Oh, well... you don't have to, unless it really bothers you and you want to sleep without it pressing against you.
Gepard not only offers to be on the floor but to sleep outside, guarding the room all night. Absolutely not, no boyfriend of yours is doing either of those things. Or is he saying that as a knight he can't control himself around his girlfriend when they're in the same bed? He... he can but he can't promise he can't have any inappropriate thoughts, especially not when you're so close and pulling him in for a deep kiss, of course he's gonna react by grinding his hips against yours.
Jing Yuan picks you up right away and lays you on his chest. You can just sleep like this, you're smaller then he is and you can have his whole body as your bed. A bit hard yes, some places more then others but he can promise you not to touch you unless you ask and he will also keep you warm and save all night, chase any nightmares you might have away and give you all the kisses you want for goodnight and good morning.
Welt is pretty relaxed as he starts getting ready for bed and inviting you to sleep next to him. If you really don't want to he can ask for a different room but there's no guarantee he will get one this late at night. He can put as much space between you two as needed, or he is able too but if its okay with you he would really like to embrace you properly tonight and... well he's wanted to for a while but maybe you can take the next step tonight?
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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]
fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem.
You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow.
You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.
It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.
You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it.
He likely wouldn't waste his time with you.
Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck.
"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder.
You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine.
"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired."
Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing."
Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze.
"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something."
"What, nobody else is available?" you ask.
His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?"
You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar.
You shake it off.
"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether.
His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does.
"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding.
Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile.
He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression.
"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.
You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date?
Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more.
Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable.
For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks.
You wander into the kitchen to help.
"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?"
"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza."
"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted.
"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook.
"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?"
You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want."
His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled."
You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.
It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome.
There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks.
"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces.
It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready."
"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe.
You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–"
Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery.
He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop?
"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects."
You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling.
"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks.
Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air.
Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug.
"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus."
He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door.
“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks.
You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint.
Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual.
Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins.
"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket.
The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still.
"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.
"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?"
"Just water will be fine."
"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."
You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs.
Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…"
He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum.
Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves.
He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face.
"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?"
"Three?" you ask.
His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working."
"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering."
"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves."
"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too."
"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls."
You look down at the table.
"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too."
"What's that mean?"
"What?"
"You know what," you say.
Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table.
"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to."
You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly.
"That's cruel."
"What?"
"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.
"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean."
Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to.
"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly.
"I want to be more than that."
"You're making fun of me."
"No."
Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant.
"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality.
You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say.
"Why not?" he asks, frowning back.
"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud.
People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones.
Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly.
"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–"
"No, I am," you say.
"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it."
You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.
Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you.
"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly.
"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week."
"He did put you in the back," you say, confused.
"Exactly."
Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display.
"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally.
"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear."
Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm.
He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.
"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?"
Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright."
There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap.
Eddie takes the plunge.
He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.
You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring.
"I think you're handsome, too," you say.
Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist."
He's not wrong.
—
Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once.
"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.
"Staring."
"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?"
Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too."
"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere."
"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner."
"Christ," Marcie says from across the room.
"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something.
"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says.
Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud."
"You would be too–"
"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know."
"Don't be jealous that I got there first."
"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished."
Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles.
He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world.
He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun.
It's glorious.
And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion.
He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist.
"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job."
"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever."
You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet.
"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed.
He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand.
"You're awful," you murmur.
He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.
"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–"
"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me."
"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths.
You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you.
"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up."
"I want to mess you up," he says easily.
"I know you do."
Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches.
He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth.
"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry.
You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms.
"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw.
"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not."
No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life.
𓆩❤︎𓆪
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Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 3
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Read parts 1 and 2 first if you haven't!
Summary: Bucky took a bullet for you and your ungrateful attitude is exactly what will help end his unwanted attraction to you, his new roommate. Or at least he thought it would help, until he found out how pretty you look on your knees.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, alcohol consumption, mutual masturbation, hint of a size kink, blood, gunshot wounds, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: According to @littlemiss-yeehaw, this is the filthiest thing I've ever written. Idk if I agree but it's a lil tiny bit filthy. Sorry for the long wait but I did NOT want to risk half-assing this chapter when I was so focused on getting through the 12 Days of Smut in December. Hope you all enjoy!
Pissed. That’s what you are in this moment, beyond pissed. You’re in the backseat of Sam’s car as he drives you and Bucky through the city, heading back to your apartment complex. He should be heading toward the nearest hospital but of course, the stubborn ass super soldier who you now call your roommate adamantly refused to go to the hospital after being shot.
“If I see so much as one drop of blood on my leather seats...” Sam threatens coldly, shooting Bucky a side-eye from the driver’s seat. You don’t even have to see his face to know that Bucky’s returning the calloused look. You let out an annoyed sigh as you start unbuckling the strap of one of your heels, your shimmery body glitter reflecting the mix of moonlight and streetlights streaming in from the windows. “And you,” Sam says, casting a glance in the rearview mirror and catching your gaze, “don’t get glitter all over my damn car.”
“I’d be getting glitter all over Elias Leveaux’s car right now if Bucky hadn’t inserted himself into my op.” You put extra emphasis on the word my, using the rearview mirror to look at Bucky’s stoic expression. He keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead, refusing to dignify you with even a brief darting of his eyes in your direction. After kicking off your heels and stuffing them in your duffel bag, you reach behind yourself to start undoing the back of your lacey corset top. Though it looks hot as fuck on you, it’s also uncomfortable as fuck and you’re not wearing it for a moment longer than you have to. Your breasts are one more snap away from spilling out of the top when Sam catches Bucky’s gaze drifting to the rearview mirror so briefly that he’s surprised he even noticed it. Sam’s quick to reach a hand up and tilt the mirror to point at the ceiling, shooting Bucky a disapproving look. He would’ve expected a man from Steve’s era to behave a little better than that. “What the hell were the three of you even doing there tonight? This was meant to be a solo op, I didn’t need any more backup than I already had.”
“Right, you’d be safely on your way to Leveaux’s house right now, wouldn’t you? Without a bullet wound in your head or your chest or wherever else?” Bucky seethes, growing more and more tired of your stubbornness. Do you not realize that it was a planned shooting? Someone knew Leveaux was going to be at the club tonight and they plotted it all ahead of time, aiming to either scare him into staying off of the streets of the city or maybe even aiming to kill him. It was going to happen regardless of how much backup you did or didn’t have tonight.
“You know, Bucky, you can’t say shit. You got yourself shot tonight. You should’ve stayed in the club.” As soon as the words leave your lips you feel a tinge of regret settling in the pit of your stomach. He got himself shot protecting you. He shielded you with his own body. He was observant of your surroundings, he saw the dark car slowly coming down the street with its windows halfway down, and his first move was to shove you against the wall and put his body between yours and the danger behind. He likely saved your life, yet you can’t find it within yourself to offer him even a measly thank you. He’s actually a little bit thankful for everything that happened after you left the stage earlier, because he was really starting to wonder how the hell he was going to find enough to dislike about you to keep his cock from getting hard every time you cross paths, which is way too often when you live together. But you acting like this? Acting like he did you a disservice by not only saving you from a hail of gunfire but also by saving you from going home with the most notorious arms dealer in the northern U.S? He thinks this ungrateful attitude of yours might cure him.
When the sound of your last corset fastener snapping open disturbs the short-lived silence in the car, Bucky clenches his teeth together. He wishes you would wait until you were home to change, but he also couldn’t stand knowing that you were sitting there in that fucking black lingerie set with nothing but another man’s coat covering your skin. Maybe he isn’t as cured as he thought.
“You should’ve called me Sam, you should’ve told me that you guys were going to be there tonight.” Your tone is a little softer as you slip on a black Calvin Klein bra and then pull your black sweater from earlier over it.
“Fury didn’t brief us until the last minute, I had no idea it was your op until it was too late to call you. You were already onsite.” Sam explains, trying to diffuse your anger a bit more. You sigh as you slide your black jeans over your legs and begin zipping and buttoning them closed.
“I’ve been waiting to get him alone for months.” You’re sulking. You put so much time and effort into tracking Leveaux’s every move, every hobby, every place he frequents. You know the man inside and out, and you knew this night was your only chance to get what you needed from him. You lift your right hand and massage your temples with your middle finger and thumb, feeling the start of a stress headache coming on.
“You’ll get another chance. He was pretty damn interested in you and what you had to offer.” Sam points out, fixing the rearview mirror back into its proper position and using it to make eye contact with you. He knows you work hard and that you’re good at your job, and he hates to see you so frustrated over one op being blown for reasons that were out of your control. As much as you want to blame Bucky, it wasn’t even his fault. However, you plan to hold a bit of a grudge regardless.
“Answer this one for me, when you were briefed, did Fury tell you that my cover name was the same as my real first name?” You ask, perking up in your seat a bit as you fish around in your bag for your socks. It’s freezing outside and you can barely feel your feet after wearing your heels out in such a low temperature.
“You really think I would’ve blown your cover unintentionally?” Bucky questions, his blue eyes boring into yours in the mirror. Clearly he takes offense at your insinuation. He might’ve inserted himself into your moment with Leveaux on a whim, but he isn’t reckless like you, he knew what he was doing outside the club. He was saving your ass. You stare right back at him, malice lighting your gaze on fire.
“You’re telling me you meant to do it on purpose?”
“Calm down, we knew your cover name was the same as your real name. Your cover wasn’t blown.” Sam interjects, trying his best to stomp out the flames of the fight that’s brewing between you and Bucky. His eyes leave the road for a moment as he casts a glance between the two of you, unable to ignore the growing tension in the car. “What the hell is up with you two? I’ve barely ever seen you guys interact, much less be at each other’s throats like you are right now. Am I missing something?”
“No.” You and Bucky speak the word in unison. The last few minutes of the car ride are taken in silence, no one daring to say another word as you and Bucky stew in your own anger and Sam focuses on avoiding patches of black ice in the road. You’ve almost forgotten that Bucky’s been shot, until you get out of the car in the parking garage and see the sizable, dark red wet patch smeared across the fabric covering his torso. He’s keeping his flesh hand held tight over the area, in an attempt to abate the blood loss. It looks a lot worse than he’s been making it seem, but you’d expect no less from someone so damn stubborn.
It only takes a couple of minutes to make it to your floor of the complex, and as soon as the elevator doors begin sliding open to let you both out, you can feel that urge somewhere deep inside, tugging at your conscience. You’re going to end up breaking out your first aid kit and using it on him. You can’t even argue with yourself, it’s what’s going to happen. It’s inevitable. Fuck your medical background and inherent need to take care of everyone but yourself.
Bucky’s planning to shower the blood off of his skin and maybe throw a couple of bandages over the entrance and exit wounds that he knows he’s sporting. That’s the most that he thinks he’ll need. He’s barely ever needed any more than a little wound cleansing and maybe some gauze here and there, he heals so quickly that first aid always been an unnecessary comfort. As he trails behind you down the hallway, watching the way you fiddle with the set of keys in your right hand, he wonders what you’re thinking now. He imagines you’re probably picturing yourself leaving him standing on the curb as you ride off into the dark of night with Elias Leveaux. Would you really have made it all the way to Leveaux’s house and let him put his hands on you? Would you have let him have you? All for a little bit of intel that you could probably gain in a much safer way? God, Bucky can’t stand you or the way you operate in the field. The next time Fury calls him in on anything related to you, he’s waving a white flag of surrender and saying hell no. He isn’t going to be tasked with sitting on the sidelines to watch as you let some criminal touch your ass and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Fuck that.
You deftly slide your key into the lock, turning it to the right before pushing the door handle down. When the door swings open, the darkness of your apartment greets you, mingling with an eerie silence. That’s another thing that you and Bucky don’t have in common. You always leave a light on when you go out, whether it’s a table lamp or the light above the stovetop in the kitchen, you hate coming home to darkness. But Bucky never leaves a light on. It’s like he’s allergic to all things cozy and comforting. You’re acutely aware of his presence behind you as you step into the apartment and stop in your tracks when he shuts the door behind you both. It’s dark, too dark. Of course, when you freeze right in front of him, Bucky’s next step sends him crashing into your back, which sends you nearly sprawling to the floor. He reaches out with his vibranium hand and grabs you by the elbow, steadying you quickly before letting go. It only takes him a second to figure out why you’ve stopped short, and he turns around to feel along the wall by the door until he hears the way the scratchy sound of the rough painted wall gives way to the smooth plastic covering of the light switch panel under his metal fingers. When he flicks the living room light on, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.
Bucky watches as you cross the living room and disappear down the hallway, making a left turn into your bedroom with your duffel bag in tow. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears he sees a trail of glitter and being sprinkled across the floor in your wake and cartoon-style steam billowing out of your ears. With you gone, he can finally think without a cloud of anger fogging up his thoughts. His first move is to turn on the lights in the kitchen and fish a cold beer out of the fridge. His second move is to lean back against the edge of the island and take a long sip of said beer as he gauges how much his gunshot wound hurts. Not that much. Listening to you give him shit over nothing was more painful than the bullet he took for you. God, you’re fucking infuriating. As much as he detests your presence here tonight, he still finds himself tuning an ear in your direction. He can hear you rummaging around in your room, presumably searching for something by the sounds of your sighs and various objects sliding across the carpet. For a second, his mind floats back to the first night you moved in. The soft moans and whimpers that fell from your mouth, quiet enough that he had to strain his ears to hear them but loud enough that he was able to fucking memorize them. His grip around the beer bottle tightens as he tries to focus on anything besides those sounds, anything besides the recurrent sighs traveling down the hall right now. What the hell are you even doing in there?
“Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds out from down the hall, reaching Bucky’s ears and making him do a doubletake.
“Last time you saw me without one you asked why I never wear one.” Bucky points out, now he’s really wondering what you’re doing in your bedroom. He hears your socked feet pattering against the floor of the hallway just before you turn the corner and step into the kitchen. His eyes lock onto yours first, but then they quickly dart down to the compact, army green tactical bag in your hands. He recognizes it in an instant. “I think if I got myself shot, I can handle the wound care on my own, sweetheart.” Bucky throws your earlier words right back in your face. You narrow your eyes at him as you step up to the island and set the first aid bag just a few inches to his right. You’re silent as you unzip it and start pulling out a few supplies you’re sure you’ll need.
“Just take off your shirt and sit your ass on the island.” Your tone is really starting to convey how fed up you are with his shit. He thinks about arguing a little more, but he’s as ready to be done with you tonight as you are with him. He figures the fastest way to get this over with is to let you take a look at his wound and see how fast he’s already healing, and then you’ll leave him alone and you can go your separate ways for the night. So, Bucky turns and sets his now half-empty beer bottle on the island next to the first aid kit before grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He drops it on the floor by your feet, watching with poorly masked amusement as your eyes rake over his toned shoulders, his chest, the rippled muscles of his abs, and then… “God, you should’ve gone to the hospital, Bucky.”
Though the lighting in the kitchen is pretty good, Bucky being so tall casts a shadow over his lower body, making it hard to get an illuminated view of the bullet’s exit wound. Your hand lands on his vibranium shoulder without hesitation and you tug him forward and to the side, urging him to turn around. He complies, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your palm and fingertips brushing over the scars where vibranium meets tortured skin. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, he finds himself annoyed at how soothing your touch feels. He wants this whole thing over with. You lean over to examine the entrance wound on the side of his lower back as Bucky runs a hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as the exit wound on his frontside, which is exactly what you’d expected. You don’t give Bucky any warning as you swipe a pre-soaked pad of iodine over his wound to clean it. You want to check for bullet fragments, to give him a few stitches and maybe even a shot of a local anesthetic, but you’re sure he’d rather take another bullet than let you do any of that. So, you simply clean the wound and fashion a secure, waterproof bandage over it. When you stand up again and tap his shoulder, he turns back around to face you, looking even more annoyed than before. He doesn’t make a move to sit on the island, so you let out a frustrated sigh as you do the only thing you can think to do, the thing that Bucky wishes you hadn’t done. You sink to your knees in front of him.
You notice the way he draws in a deep breath and casts a displeased glance down at you, his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, but he doesn’t move a muscle otherwise. You look up at him just for a moment, taking in his cold expression and everything below it…the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, the way both of his hands are gripping the edge of the countertop, his beer long forgotten with you now on your knees. If you could hear his thoughts, you’d be hearing a chorus of not now, not now, not now as Bucky attempts to rationalize with his already-hardening cock. Bucky decides to give you thirty seconds to finish whatever the hell it is that you’re about to do down there before he pulls you up by your fucking hair. As if you can sense his short fuse, you get to work. Swiping the iodine pad over the significantly messier exit wound and then tearing open a packet of gauze with your teeth. You press a couple of the soft white squares against his still oozing wound and they quickly soak up the fresh blood, soaking through to your fingertips. Bucky’s wondering why you didn’t put on any gloves, aren’t people usually worried about catching some bloodborne illness when they do shit like this? The fact that his blood turning your fingertips red doesn’t even seem to bother you almost turns him on more. God, this is starting to feel a little bit too twisted. Bucky’s flesh hand moves on autopilot, his fingers coming to rest over yours as he applies more pressure to the wound and lets out a soft grunt at the pain. You let him hold your fingers there for a moment and you make the mistake of looking up at him again. Fuck. He can’t handle this. Bucky screws his eyes shut and tilts his head back a little, making sure when he opens his eyes again his only view will be of the ceiling above and not of you on your knees in front of him.
“Are you almost done?” He asks harshly, removing his hand from the top of yours and gripping the edge of the counter once more. You start fashioning another bandage out of gauze and medical tape as soon as his hand leaves yours.
“I would be if you’d sat on the island like I asked you to, you wanted to do this the hard way.” You retort. You can’t seem to get the tape in a good enough position, not with the waistband of his tactical pants in the way, so you take the initiative and curl two fingertips into them before tugging them down an inch. That one inch is enough to reveal the beginning of a v-line and your breath hitches in your throat. You’re suddenly all-too-aware of the compromising position you’re in. Even more than that, you’re aware of something you’d been completely oblivious to just a moment before: Bucky’s hard-on outlined through the fabric of his pants.
You’re frozen for a second too long and when you come to your senses once more, you look up to find Bucky staring down at you, his gaze a little less cold but every bit as intense. You decide that making eye contact with the man that you’re currently non-sexually on your knees for might not be the smartest move, so you’re quick to avert your gaze back to the task at hand. You’re able to get the bandage in the right place just fine after tugging his pants down an inch, and as soon as the tape sticks to his skin you rise to your feet. You’re the only thing standing between Bucky and the short walk to his bedroom door. You’re ready to collect your first aid kit and leave him standing in the kitchen to steep in his anger, but your mind can’t seem to get past the fact that he has a hard-on. He saw you staring at it too, and he simply stood there looking down at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to it. God, who the hell does he think he is? Crashing your solo op, taking a bullet for you like he’s some all-American hero, and then getting turned on by what? You giving him shit for it all?
Bucky’s waiting a bit impatiently for you to take your leave, for you to gather your medical supplies back into the little tactical bag and disappear into your bedroom for the rest of the night, leaving a trail of body glitter all over the kitchen and hallway. But instead of leaving, you’re standing in front of him, your eyes analyzing every twitch of the muscles along his jaw, every little move he makes with his eyes as he stares right back at you. Your boldness seems to intensify as you stand there taking in the sight of your roommate. You want the last word, and you want it to be something he’ll remember, so he doesn’t go screwing up your hard work ever again.
Leaning into Bucky’s space, you’re met with his intoxicatingly pleasant scent, he smells so uniquely like him. There isn’t any other way to describe it, it’s just Bucky. You brace your hands on the edge of the island on either side of him, your arms brushing against each of his as you rise up on your toes and position your lips so close to his ear that you could stick your tongue out and taste him if you wanted to. Fuck, you kind of want to. The thought only graces your mind for the briefest moment before you let your eyes flutter closed and focus on the anger you still feel bubbling up in your chest.
“Stay the fuck away from my solo ops.” You whisper softly but pointedly. Your bottom lip just barely grazes the shell of his ear as the last word leaves your mouth. That tiny, brief point of physical connection between the two of you is seemingly nothing, yet it sends a spark of electricity from your bottom lip all the way down to your toes.
Bucky’s form is rigid, trapped between you and the island, simultaneously hating and loving the position he’s been placed in. He wishes he only hated it. He wishes he could fist his hand in your hair and angle your head back until your neck is exposed to him like a blank canvas, ready for him to leave his mark. He wishes you would’ve locked yourself in your bedroom the moment you both got to the apartment, not even bothering to fish out your first aid kit and clean up his wounds. He wishes he’d never given you the idea to switch apartments with Vision, and yet, in this moment, his cock is harder than it’s ever been. That’s why when you let go of the island and turn away from Bucky, leaving your first aid kit on the countertop as you take the first step to leave the kitchen, Bucky reaches out and curls his hand tightly around your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks before using his grip to turn you back around to face him. In one swift motion, he tightens his hold even more and pulls you in until your chest is pressed against his and his warm breath is fanning across your face as he looks down at your widened eyes.
“I don’t take orders from people who don’t give a shit if they live or die.” Bucky spits, holding you against him for just a second after he’s spoken his piece, before dropping his hold on your arm and letting you stumble one step back. He expects you to maybe mutter something under your breath before stomping off to your room, annoyed that he didn’t let you have the last word, but you’re every bit as stubborn as he is. Every bit as stubborn and feeling like you have a leg up in the situation since you know what’s currently fighting to escape the confines of his tactical pants. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes flit from his icy expression down to his waistband that sits right above the outline of his hard-on, and then back up to his eyes once more.
“Right, it’s probably bad form to take professional orders from someone you wanna fuck anyway.” When you say the word fuck, you let your eyes drift down to the front of his pants one final time, ensuring that he knows what led you to your choice of words. Now Bucky returns your smirk. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he shakes his head at you.
“That’s all adrenaline, sweetheart, nothing else.” His denial is both enraging and laughable. You tsk, closing the distance between the two of you one more time before reaching out with your right hand and letting the tips of your fingers, still tinged red with his blood, tap lightly over the center of his chest. He’s looking down at you, completely unable to force himself to look anywhere else, as you drag those fingers down his bare torso, so lightly that he feels goosebumps forming across the expanse of his skin. Your hand travels lower and lower, over the hills and valleys of his abs, ghosting over his navel, and down the thin trail of hair that leads straight to the thing you can’t stop thinking about. You let your fingertips skim over the fabric of his waistband just barely, just enough to really piss him off, and that’s when Bucky snatches your wrist away, his grip so tight that you’re sure it’ll leave a mark.
“Watch it.” He warns, with his eyes dark and narrowed as he casts you a disapproving yet sinful glance. You feel your bloodflow splitting in two directions, half of it rushing up to color your cheeks and the other have rushing down to pool low in your stomach, sending heat swirling between your legs. You swallow thickly. What the hell? Your body is clearly loving the way he’s talking to you and it’s pissing you off. You’re learning that you’re attracted to men with the unhealthiest of attitudes, and Bucky’s currently rising to the top of the unhealthy-attitude-yet-hot-as-fuck mental list that you’re keeping. He’s actually the only person on it. He just invented the list for you, in this moment, when he told you to watch it.
“I think I heard a button snap there, soldier.” You tease, letting your eyes flit down to the waistband of his pants again. Bucky’s jaw ticks as he flicks your wrist away from him and tries to ignore the new nickname you’ve decided to test out. How do you make such a common, simple title sound so damn filthy? Bucky thinks you could’ve actually heard the button of his tactical pants snap open, considering the way his cock has been twitching every time you open your mouth. He decides the only way for him to get out of this is to let you have the last word, so he stands there in silence as you study his tense face. He so badly wants to say something back, to anger you every bit as much as you’ve angered him tonight, but he knows how stubborn you are and every word he breathes will only keep you here in front of him longer. His tactic works like a charm and he watches with bated breath as you step away from him and take a few steps toward the hallway. You stop short right before disappearing behind the wall, looking over your shoulder and making eye contact with Bucky one final time.
“Let me know if you need any help with all of that uh…” You wave your hand around in the air as you refer to Bucky’s hard-on, with a near-permanent smirk plastered on your face. “Adrenaline. It’s the least I can do.”
Bucky’s left alone in the kitchen at last. He thought he’d feel instant relief once you left, but he doesn’t. He feels like he has a damn loaded gun tucked in the front of his pants. Let me know if you need any help? It’s the least I can do? Bucky has no doubt that you were simply being a sarcastic pain in his ass, but still. Your words were laced with innuendo and the sexual tension in the room was so thick that he could barely breathe. He is so beyond fucked.
---
The softest, sweetest little hum escapes your lips as your right hand moves of its own volition. The back of your hand feels the fabric of your cotton panties, which are a little bit damp even after you showered and changed into a fresh pair. The pads of your fingers are sliding back and forth along your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around, dragging closer and closer to your entrance with each downward sweep. When you let the tip of your middle finger dip down and inward, just barely entering where you’ve been feeling an empty sort of ache for the past hour, the steady string of hums and soft pants that were leaving your lips before become whispered moans. This is exactly what you needed.
Bucky’s fist is wrapped tightly around the shaft of his cock as he gives it torturously slow strokes from the base to the tip, prolonging his pleasure as long as he possibly can. He closes his eyes and instantly recalls the mental image of you on your knees at his feet, gazing up at him like you being in that position for him wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.
“Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly, speeding up the work of his right hand as his head presses back harder into his pillow. It’s burned into his eyelids, the image of you on your knees. It’s burned into his eyelids and he fears he’ll never be able to forget it. His brain takes the image and adds to it, evolving it to include your hands sliding up the fronts of his thighs and adding a flash of hunger behind your eyes. He gets far too close to finishing himself off too soon when he imagines you tugging on the waistband of his pants just like you did earlier, but enough to free his cock right there in front of you. God, he knows he’s well-endowed, but he can just picture how much bigger his dick would look if your hand was wrapped around it instead of his own. Another groan rumbles past his lips, louder this time, as he starts to lose a little bit of his self-control.
Bucky. His name is swirling around your mind for two reasons now. The first being that you’re touching yourself because of him. Because of the way he looked at you, talked to you, because of the way he pissed you off. You slowly pull two fingers out of your pussy and drag them upwards until you reach your clit, beginning to stimulate it a little too excitedly as the second reason presents itself again. He groans. Bucky Barnes groans for the second time. The first time that you heard it a few seconds ago you assumed he was rolling over in bed or maybe he accidentally laid in a way that aggravated his wounds from earlier tonight. But the second time you heard it you had no doubt about what he was doing. It has to be exactly what you’re doing, and you’re fucking thrilled. You know it isn’t the most honest or decent way to reach an orgasm, but hell, if he’s going to be so damn vocal with such thin walls, how can you resist? So, you rub circles against your clit, letting hushed pants and moans fall freely from your lips now, sure that Bucky’s too engaged in his own arousal to hear you.
You sound like a fucking goddess. Bucky doesn’t even take a moment to feel guilty, no, he only picks up the speed with which he’s desperately tugging on his cock to get to his release. A thin sheen of sweat has formed across his brow and his chest is burning with a mix of desire and near-hyperventilation as he touches himself and listens to the sinful sounds coming from across the hall. All cares have been thrown aside as yet another loud curse is torn out of him, and then an equally loud, provocative moan is returned from your room. That’s when Bucky’s eyes snap open and his thumb glides over the slit of his cock where precum has been steadily leaking out since your dangerous kitchen encounter earlier. If he’s being honest with himself, his dick has been leaking precum since you took the stage at the club earlier tonight. As the two of you exchange moans and broken swears through the walls, neither of you using an ounce of rational thinking, you race toward your separate releases simultaneously. When Bucky finally feels his balls tightening and his cock twitching against the palm of his tiring hand, his release comes at the sound of your final audible sentence of the night.
“Fuck, I’m cumming.”
You always get the last word.
TAG LIST:
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gojo satoru ⇄ you, yours.
synopsis : gojo satoru always acts like the man you met at the start of your relationship, he never does change— from his flirting skills to checking you out like the two of you just came together and eventually how he fucked you so good just like how the two of you had your first times.
tags / warnings : fem!reader, established relationship, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex, size difference, belly bulge, overstimulation, tell me if i missed something.
author’s notes : this is what my pussy nearly halfly made when she was horknee, this is my first time to make smut, please be nice— also half assed, sorry.
gojo was in love with you— he always is, he loves the way you talk, you move, and you interact with people and care about everything around you. how sweet and endearing you are with him, he falls for you harder than he thought.
it was weird, the way you two met, it was the other way around, he is your fanboy and you were his idol the first he laid his eyes on you. you were beautiful— gorgeous, even. he wished you upon the stars and eventually, came true.
he forgets who he is when he is with you, he doesn't even mind being the gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive when he is with you. when he does, he's just there, taking care of you, so sweet, so gentle, it makes his heart burst from giving you everything in a delicate manner.
he is used to people taking care of him, praising how incredible he is but when he saw you from the moment he laid his eyes upon you? he wanted to waste other people's efforts for him and give all his attention and care to you.
in his eyes, you were a star, a celebrity, once he wished you upon a star, they gave him you— where he cannot stop staring at you, he cannot stop loving you that it just overflows within his heart.
and just like now, the way your walls hugged his cock that you are always struggling to take because of how big and girthy he is, he cannot stop smiling teasingly and look at how hot you are every time you do.
you always tell him that sitting on him both on his face and cock was your dream of a lifetime but here you are, you did not know that it was much harder to get him inside of you when you are riding him than having him in different positions.
“oh fuck, ‘toru!” oh the way you moan and whine his name makes him even harder than he usually is, feeling him grow a bit inside of you makes your eyes roll from ecstasy as he grips and spanks your ass to guide you down his dick.
having him inside you already gives you butterflies, what else if he already started moving his hands around you, as well as sucking each part of your body, especially your tits that he truly adores?
satoru is trying his best not to slam you down on his dick, his penetrating your walls was enough to snap you though he still needs to treat you both like a princess and his slut at the same time.
his hands were on your ass, kneading its plush, your pussy was so tight around him, he was controlling himself. as he waits for you to take your time, he sucks on your right boob. god, he loves both of you ass and tits.
as you felt him, you sank to him, fully taking him in as you whined, leaning into him, his mouth is now on the other tit, sucking it until he is satisfied.
you started moving as his hands were still on you, holding you behind as you clenched every time you bounced on him, moaning as you felt his visible vein from his cock.
"daddy..." every movement you are giving him causes your tits to bounce with you, hearing his deep voice groan as he removes his mouth from your nipples.
you looked so hot that he started meeting your bounces each time you went down on him, as you did, your folds were squeezing him and you wanted to milk him sooner than he anticipated.
"yeah baby, fuck..." his voice was deep as he groaned, his eyes were shut for a second, feeling your soft walls wrapped around him so fine.
he felt like he was gonna cum sooner than he expected, how can he not? you’re so good at riding his cock or even taking it as he did in various positions.
every time you sank on him, you ground your way up as it made him grow bigger than he could, he’s so big that you swear you can feel him making a small bulge on your stomach, making you moan.
“‘toru, inside me please...” you breathed out as you continued moving yourself on top of him with his hands now on your waist, helping you bring him deeper inside you. “fill me up,”
"are you sure?" he asked, looking at your body as you moved, he bit his lip, gazing into you as he felt something building up within him.
“yes! please! gonna cum...” you whined, nodding, your eyes rolling almost at the back of your head as he hits the right spots within you.
he chuckled lightly from how he noticed your cute face being fucked out. of course, you did not expect him to be this big once you took him, riding on top.
"yeah, cum for me angel..." he whispered, his voice rasping as he felt your pussy tighten from coming down on your ecstasy.
he chased his high, using your body— his hands on your hips, bouncing you as he came inside you as you requested, feeling how hot his seed was within your womb.
your eyes widened as both breathed in and out from releasing. being the usual that he is, he whispered sweet nothings into you, spoiling you even more as you deserved it throughout the night.
as you woke up, you noticed a beautiful engagement ring on your ring finger that made you sob that day when you looked at it.
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✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦
– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER
simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words
summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.
cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾
❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞
Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you…
“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”
URA. United Republic of Adal.
“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims.
“Can’t divulge that information.”
Of course he couldn’t. Obviously.
“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak.
“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself.
It was thrilling.
“Lose the bra.”
“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–
“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it.
Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention.
“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.”
You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach.
“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”
For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought.
Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche.
“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you.
Like he was imagining fucking you.
Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–”
‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”
It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers.
When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin.
It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black.
‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’
Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name.
Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand.
‘Yes sir x’
cod mwii/kinktober taglist:
@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth
@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
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Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)
Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷
It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷
Back to Masterlist
W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.
You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.
So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.
You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.
There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.
You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.
“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.
The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.
Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.
The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.
Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.
With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.
What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.
The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.
A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.
You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.
You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.
“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”
“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”
He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”
“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.
The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”
“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.
He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.
“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.
You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.
Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.
You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.
“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.
He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.
Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.
He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.
It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.
His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.
He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.
He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.
It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.
His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.
You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.
You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.
Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.
His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.
You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.
“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.
“What?” You ask confused.
“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.
And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.
But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.
If you liked it please drop a comment or a reblog, it really helps me to want to write more 🩷
TagList: @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @lunari0 @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @lolly145 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1 @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @crinoid90 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @emat-05 @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @salsamander
@whos-fran
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──★ ˙🍆 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends. 18+!
☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage
✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, you and chigiri are talking about npc college drama, proofread???
✿ ─ notes: honestly the smau aspect was so hard cuz im a perfectionist and wanted read reciets and everything. all the apps for them suck. i managed :))) and i rlly hope you guys like it :)) feedback appreciated. i put chigiri's at the end cuz its so long.
part 2 is here!!!!
ISAGI YOICHI...
your fingers fly across the keyboard to tell him that yes, you were very serious. isagi literally jumps out of bed to go shower and everything. he has been crushing on you since forever and god knows he’s not blowing this chance you’ve given him by sending a shitty picture. you get an image attachment 20 minutes later, yoichi standing in front of his foggy bathroom mirror, the phone in his hand covering half of his face. he’s barely out of the shower, hair dripping wet and towel hanging extremely loose around his hips. his other hand sits at the base of his dick, acting as both a size comparison and a way to draw your attention to it. it’s obviously of decent length as far as you could tell, but the girth. you cant even pretend your mouth doesn’t start watering at the sight.
ITOSHI RIN...
you don’t have time to feel all that bummed about it though, because within a few minutes you’re shocked to get a picture from rin, the camera facing downwards towards his legs. nothing would be all that out of the ordinary if it weren’t the obvious tent in his shorts. the fabric around his crotch looks stretched by his hard dick fighting against the confines of his soccer uniform. it’s not exactly what you asked for, but you can’t find it in you to complain, because it’s way more than you actually expected to get. your mind starts racing. he’s hard from just a few suggestive texts? that means one of two things. either he really is a virgin like you thought he’d be, and the littlest of acts gets him riled up. or he’s just that into you. both of those possibilities sounded like fun. and the idea of those possibilities made you greedy. enough to push your luck.
MIKAGE REO...
two pictures come in quickly and you laugh at the idea of him rushing to take these for you. he sends the first one, taken standing in front of the full length mirror in his boxers, dragging down the waist band of them so you can see the first few inches of his shaft, phone in front of his face. he’s perfectly clean shaven, zooming in closer, maybe he waxes it? you can’t help but be impressed by his attention to detail. it’s so reo that it makes you smile. second one is sitting down in some fancy looking suede armchair, underwear gone, cock in one hand while the other splays over the bottom half of his face, poorly covering the wide self-satisfied smirk. you assumed he set up his phone with a timer considering he wasn’t holding it. as you stare at it, the initial evaluating that everyone does when they receive a dick pic fades away, and you feel heat creep up your face. reo was really hot, and just this once you figured it wouldn’t hurt to tell him you thought so.
CHIGIRI HYOMA...
you get through the stressful minutes waiting for his response by chewing on your nails. maybe you really just fucked it all up. but then, to your surprise, a photo loads in. its hyoma sitting on his bed in front of his mirror, his fingers buried in his hair to push it out of his face in possibly the sexiest way you’ve ever seen. his other hand holds his phone, his pretty face in full view with his gaze locked on the screen. your eyes can’t help but travel down to the only part of your crush you haven’t seen. and boy was it worth the wait. his dick curves up towards his abs and its a lot bigger than you expected. long and a perfectly pink tip. you bite your lip at the thought of it stretching you out, and then feel slightly guilty for thinking of him that way, as if you haven’t done it plenty of times during your so-called dry spell. if the whole soccer thing doesn’t work out, you’re sure he could be a pin up model. or maybe a greek god.
hyoma's got long again ;-; mb,,, but can you blame me??? i want to do a part two with at least nagi and bachira, but idk who else i want to include. open to suggestions ♡
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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Twisted Zoo: Chapter One
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
Also @twistedcece @ursinaw @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!
Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.
Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.
WARNINGS: none for now
Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.
Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.
Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)
Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!
Prologue here
Next chapter here
—----------------------------------
Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night.
“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.
“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.
The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”
You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.
After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.
The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.
As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.
That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.
“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.
Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment.
The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third.
“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.
He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.
“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.
“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.
You felt like you had made progress.
Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak.
A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.
You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.
When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”
All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.
Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.
You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.
“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.
You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”
Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.
A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!
“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.
The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.
The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.
As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.
You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.
You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.
Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.
Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.
A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”
Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”
You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”
That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.
The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.
“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.
As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.
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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.
word count: 2.5k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct
a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx
You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.
It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot. What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.
Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently. It made you think of the future, about forever…
No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment. You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question. It made everything easier, lighter.
Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you. He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.
Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you? The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way. Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks. You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.
What you had underneath didn’t help anything either. Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan. (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)
Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina. Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.
He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs. He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.
Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.
Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless. That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini. It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.
“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.
“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”
He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips. You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do. But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.
“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.
Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms. “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely. Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)
“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Permettez-moi…”
The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.
You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.
Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again. He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you. Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.
“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.
“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat. You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.
“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut. Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure. Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.
“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”
Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.
Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him. With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.
“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.
“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock. Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.
Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.
“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.
“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck. You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.
But oh how that trust was misplaced…
The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation. And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.
You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body. Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.
Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.
This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below. It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.
A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.
You, on the other hand, simply laughed. You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.
“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.
“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.
“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own. Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.
“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.
“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”
“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”
And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin. You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.
“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.
“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down. You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.
Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest. “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.
“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.
“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.
You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.
final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!
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"You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself."
👀👀👀
Well... as you know, this escalated quickly.
Title: Sacrificial
Fandom: MCU
Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: If it seems too good to be true, it always is. Always. Too bad you had to go to the remote jungles of South America to learn that lesson.
Content/Concept Warnings: DARK, lulled into a trap, human sacrifice, dubious consent/fuck or die, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, monster fucking, face fucking/oral male receiving, vaginal fingering/fisting, breast worship, rough fucking, possessive/pet, praise kink, dirty talk, cum play, marking, cream pie, choking
Additional Notes: Thoty time with @rookthorne... she's only responsible for enabling me when my monster thirst reared its head. Wicked entry for @buckybarnesevents WEEK ONE of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Wear?" and my third square of @buckybarnesbingo K1 "Fuck or Die."
When you told your friends, family, and former colleagues about the research grant and fellowship you had been awarded in the weeks leading up to your departure that it was too perfect, clearly somewhere deep in your bones you had known.
Eighty thousand dollars a year for three years, travel covered, visa approved, fully furnished accommodations provided, and a book deal for the discoveries and research studying flora in a largely undocumented and remote part of the jungle on another continent.
No scientist got a deal like that.
The only downside was the isolation of the location. They had electricity and running water, but you would only be able to go into town for internet every few weeks.
But the part of you that had grown up watching Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, LOST, and the deep space missions of Star Trek who had far too many plants in your apartment and in your tiny office at the university had beat back that downside. It was only three years, and after living through the strange isolation of the pandemic, you knew you could manage this where you wouldn’t be isolated from people, just for short stints from your old life.
And though you had good pieces and good people in your life, you were desperate to get away from the suffocating societal expectations you felt like you weren’t living up to while so many others around you were – marriage, kids, white picket fences, career accomplishments, tenured professorships, promotions, raises, overnight influencers, travel vloggers.
This was something no one you knew had ever done.
Everyone raved about the adventure ahead of you.
Everyone had been impressed.
You had conquered in the accomplishments department with this for the year, no question. Your older sister with her third child on the way and your younger brother and his Premiere League football contract could wallow in your shadow.
This was a golden opportunity for a research botanist still in the early years of their career.
Kneeling on the ground in the middle of the jungle with your hands folded in your lap, head bowed, surrounded by a village of people who all should have known better than to follow ancient superstitions, with a dozen or more guns trained on you in nothing more than lingerie, you were living a nightmare.
All of it had been a baited trap.
No one would even question you falling off the grid before it was too late, and even if they did, these villagers could say one day you never came back from the jungle.
And it would be true.
One afternoon and evening, a good dinner, a sleep you’d yearned for thinking it was the jet lag, and then you’d awoken screaming as the first strip of wax had been ripped from your skin to discover you were naked with a half dozen people attending to all aspects of your grooming, preparing you to be their human sacrifice for the beast that lived in the jungle.
You were past the crying and pleading.
The no WIFI had been a lie, too.
Everyone in this small village looked and acted like they lived in the present day except for this one thing.
The belief that if they did not provide the beast his human sacrifice that they would not survive his terror.
“Then why don’t you just leave?” you had implored.
“This is our home, our loved ones are here, our ancestors are part of this place, and,” their leader and the head of the research foundation paused – almost faltered before continuing to explain, “the sacrifice of one stranger will guarantee us safety for many, many years.”
Everyone else had been instructed not to speak or listen to you from that point on in the preparations.
Nails trimmed, buffed, shined. Luxurious oil that smelled delicate and heavenly rubbed over every inch of your skin from the neck down. Hair partially braided to stay out of your face with the rest left natural. Color applied to your lips. They didn’t bother with eye makeup. No jewelry.
You had been wrapped up in a linen garment that was not quite a robe but not quite a coat to be transported to the ruins of an old stone dais in the thick of the jungle but deprived of it and then pushed onto the sacrificial area, left only in the sapphire silk of a bra and panties delicately lined with lace.
After hours being poked, prodded, and prepared by strangers in a strange land in a state of dread and disbelief, you thought you were numb.
You had endured too much to think you were hallucinating, but that you now all waited illuminated by literal torches with fire made this seem almost like a season of Survivor gone horribly wrong.
But then you heard the hushed wave of whispers at the rustle and rumble of something approaching through the thick vegetation of the jungle and adrenaline shot through your veins. It didn’t inspire fight or flight. You were frozen, fixated on the beast that would finally appear and seal your fate any moment now.
It made no attempt at arriving quietly, and when it finally appeared, there were collective gasps and cries from the people gathered to watch the sacrifice, though no sound fell from your lips.
The reaction was more than warranted, and a whisper of a thought flashed through your head that you were surprised no one had screamed. Maybe they were too terrified to scream, worried they would draw the beast’s attention. You wanted to scream, but your chest was gripped in fear.
The thick, furry legs of a bull, down to the cloven hooves, and a girthy tail with a tuft of dark hair at the end, swishing slightly as he walked. There was a loincloth tied at his waist that – rather than providing modesty – inspired anyone whose gaze lingered there to imagine the bulge nudging conspicuously beneath. Not that anyone’s gaze would linger there for long, for the rest of him was altogether imposing. Only the tallest of the villagers might hope to measure up to the base of his sternum – the sternum that anchored the torso of a man with shoulders more than twice the width of a human. Skin golden from the sun stretched over muscles that burst and rippled over his chest and shoulders, extending down his arms. You could see a litany of angry scars littered up and down his left arm.
Great bull’s horns rose and curled out of his head, possibly longer than your own arms. He had a mane of long, glossy but mostly unruly brown hair, with a couple of braids, that fell past his shoulders. Though the rest of his physique inspired fear, the true terror was perhaps the face of this man beast – it was terrifyingly handsome. Strong jaw, stubbled beard, a crease between his brows, and piercing blue eyes. His expression was drawn into an ominous grin.
He was in no rush as he walked into the ring of the villagers.
“Weapons down,” he growled.
There was almost no hesitation – their purpose had been to keep you in place anyway. Though the fear in the air was palpable, the tone of it seemed to be turning to some sort of reverent fear now for everyone else.
What inspired this unquestioned obedience from an entire people? People you’d seen with smart phones as abundantly among them as any other place on earth, though you’d been advised to shut yours down and leave it behind since it would be of next to no use to you in the jungle. They were right – but had left out the true reason and made it even more believable for you to seem only cut off to those back home, not lost and gone forever.
His enormous legs took the step easily up onto the dais, and his eyes were now fixed only on you. He stopped at the foot of the altar where you were presented for him.
“Well done,” this was meant for the people and their leader.
Then he reached out and the fingers of his large hands traced the strap over your left shoulder, then along your jaw, tilting your chin to look straight up at him. “And your choice is set?”
“My – my choice?” your voice cracked, but you felt it was a miracle you even found it.
Your confusion must have been evident, as his eyes flashed with anger and her rounded on the man who had facilitated all of this. “You did not tell her anything, did you?”
“I thought it best if –“
“It is not your job to think. The thoughtlessness of your people is why we’re here at all,” he snarled. Then he turned back to you.
“No time for stories now. I’m a minotaur called Bucky; a lost soldier cursed long ago to this state. Suffice it to say II must be satiated or the village will be subjected to bloodshed and desolation in the face of my wrath. They’ve chosen you, but you can choose your fate: fuck or die. I’ll take your throat, or I’ll cut it and drink your blood in front of everyone.”
Your chest heaved in trepidation. “How is that a choice?”
“Is it not clear to you?”
“Have others chosen death?”
He nodded. “Or they refused to choose.”
You opened your mouth then closed it again.
“Do you wish to die?”
You thought your tears were spent, but you could feel them welling in your eyes. “No.”
“Then claim your choice.”
You took a shaky breath.
“Say it!” he barked.
You flinched, but managed to spit out, “Fuck.”
“Perfect. Open up.”
“In front of everyone?” your voice was barely above a whisper.
He nodded. “They will remember and mark this sacrifice. It will be the reason they continue to breathe.”
You spread your knees a part so you were still kneeling and sitting back on your heels but his to take like this.
“That’s nice but not what I meant.” He tugged his loincloth and dropped it to the ground. You whimpered, afraid of the enormous size of his cock and ashamed at the lick of heat that flared in your core at the sight of him. He leaned down closer, put a hand at the back of your neck, and slapped the side of your face with his rigid length. “You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself.”
This drew a handful of muted gasps from the onlookers. You saw a spark of something new in his eyes at this reaction.
He was pleased at their reaction.
You dropped your mouth open for him, nervous knowing you could not take all of him, embarrassed to be on such display in front of these strangers, but wanting to please him.
Wait, you thought, wanting to please him?
He shoved his cock into your wet mouth, shoving any other thoughts immediately out.
“Suck.”
You did.
“Just like that,” he said. The hand on your neck moved up to cradle and command the back of your head. He slowly began to fuck your mouth but with only a small motion, encouraging you to continue sucking just that first bit of cock as it was in your mouth. He still was in no rush. It felt like a power play – not wanting to show impatience or lack of restraint in the onset of this sacrificial claiming.
As he continued to speak now, his voice was low, intended for you. “Get ready for more.”
You looked up at him and tried to nod your head ever so slightly. He smirked, then he brought his other hand up under your jaw and to your throat, wanting to feel himself using you. He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. His tip hit the back of your mouth, and you spluttered. He pulled out slightly, giving you half a moment to recover, then forced the point again, holding himself there while you adjusted. He opened his eyes again, locking back onto yours, and a thrill of terror shot through you again. That was only the preliminary.
Now he would truly begin.
That look was all you got. Keeping the one hand at your throat, the provided the anchor to begin truly fucking your throat, not in a rush, but he picked up the pace. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself. Your muscles initially gagged in protest, but he persisted, stroking your throat with his fingers as well, coaxing you to relax. Tears spilled down your cheeks. You concentrated on breathing through your nose and the steady gaze he kept trained on you. Soon you were taking more of him than you thought you could. He quickened his thrusts into your mouth. Your fingers stretched into the fur on his hips, mewling as he continued to use your mouth.
A few short grunts with the last thrusts were the only hint before he came, shooting his hot spend in your mouth with an unrestrained howl that shook the crowd to their core. There was no way for you to swallow everything, but, if anything, seeing his cum spilling down your chin made him grin.
Then he raised his head to address the villagers. “Remember that you gave this human to me. I will do with her as I please, and you will never see her again. Hope that you never see me again in your lifetime,” his voice carried, his power unquestioned in the clearing. “If you are lucky, the children you left home today will not see me in their lifetimes either. All of you go now. What happens next is not for your eyes.”
They followed his instructions without hesitation, all of them eager to be gone from this cursed place and their collective and ignored shame.
They left the torches – no desire for a souvenir.
And now you were alone with him, the light of the flames flickering over every inch of your exposed skin – which was almost all your skin, the lingerie only for show.
With the hand that was still anchored at the back of your head, he roughly angled you up sharply to look directly up at him, and tipping his own head forward he loomed in all his height above you, a truly searing heat in this look. “I meant what I said: you are mine, and I will never allow those vile villagers to see you again. You’re mine to do with as I please.”
He stooped down to claim your mouth in a kiss. His large thumb brushed the remaining spend from your chin and then moved down your throat to brush it over your collar bone, rubbing it in. He pushed his tongue between your lips, and you opened your mouth for him again. His tongue was too big for your mouth, too, but the more he subjected your body to the largeness of his being, the more you seemed to seep into him. He used his tongue to wrap around and tangle with yours, stroking it with his, now and then slipping it further down your throat, teasing, choking, mimicking the actions of his cock not long before.
When you were truly gasping, he chuckled darkly and pulled away, you leaned forward, lips chasing his, and then you shook your head, trying to restore some logic.
Failing.
Bucky easily tore away your bra with his brute strength. “Lay back for me, lamb.”
You shifted, legs aching from resting on them in that kneeling position for far too long. He noted the care you took in moving your limbs and rubbed the muscles up and down a few times. Then he pulled your hips to the end of the alter, flush against his cock, which was already semi-hard again. You hummed as he pushed against your still-clothed core.
His hands moved from your thighs up your sides, stoking the desire surging through your body, moving up your waist, thumbs brushing up against the underswell of your breasts, then flicking over the nipples, bringing them to little peaks before diving down to lave one of them with his tongue and suck, rolling, twisting, and pinching the other with his hand. Then he moved his mouth, and as he latched on to the other nipple, his hands worked the lace and silk panties off your hips and down your legs before tossing them away. He rutted up against you again, slow but persistent pressure against your core again, but now with no barrier he felt your arousal slicking up your entrance. When you began working your hips against him, seeking more friction, fisting your hands into his hair, he moved a hand between your legs, stroking over your labia and pushing one of his fingers right into your cunt, making you keen immediately from the force and fullness.
“Going to ruin you, lamb, but don’t want to hurt you.” He was brutal, but only because he was a monster by nature, not because he was heartless. “Gotta work your tiny pussy open so you can take me like you were meant to.”
As before, he was patient, making up for the impatience mounting inside you as he worked his fingers into you, circling, questing, stretching, twisting. When he pushed three fingers in he could tell it was a lot, but he knew he needed you to easily receive four if he was going to get to fuck you on his cock the way he wanted. All through it, he was relentless in overwhelming you in other ways, continuing to worship your breasts, but also murmuring praises against your skin, and threatening and promising filthy things that you couldn’t even respond to.
When you were thoroughly primed, aching for him, a mess with tears and begging for him, he finally realigned his hips between your legs, forcing your thighs wide to accommodate him. He bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing clit a couple of times, making your whimper repeatedly. You were lost as you lay splayed out above him, eyes tightly shut, hands reaching for him, desperately pleading his name over and over. He bent down to you again, relishing the feel of your breasts brushing against his chest for one more moment before sinking his cock into your cunt with a brutal thrust, pushing clear to the hilt, making you scream. It was wicked, and he knew it, but also knew how much he had worked up your body and your mind, and he was rewarded as you arched beneath him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, adjusted your hips, and then rocked against him, clearly seeking more.
Holding you at the precipice of pleasure for so long meant you crashed into your first orgasm very quickly as he pushed his cock in and out of your, “tight heat, little lamb, taking me so well,” he cooed. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering as he fucked your through it, groaning at the feel of your walls around him. “No one else will ever have this cunt now,” he vowed. “You’re mine.���
“Mine,” you echoed without thinking, not knowing it was exactly how he wanted his pet to feel about him. He pushed you over the edge into another orgasm and then spilled his hot seed inside you not long after. You were beyond spent, at that point, and less than a minute after he scooped you up, tucking your legs around his waist, you dropped out of consciousness, and went totally limp. He kissed the top of your head, then shifted you to sling you over his shoulder for the trek to his lair – your home. He’d secure you there, then go back to the get the wooden crate of the belongings you had shipped ahead of you and the bag you had traveled with – both were supposed to be deposited and waiting in a cave, the final part of his negotiations for acquiring his new human from that village and their foolish leader. Humans were delicate creatures with peculiar needs, after all, and he was determined to keep you content and fucked out until you were devoted to staying with him until the end of your days.
But the last hour had exceeded even his own expectations. He suspected he wouldn’t have to try very hard to keep his little lamb.
NEXT PART: Do You Remember
"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest
brief insight into what reader's life is like now
physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky
easy and challenging parts of writing the fic
the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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Dumb Little Bunny
...kinda cnc, argument to sex, switch! Toji and reader hehe, low-key foot stuff but also not really, hint of misogyny (use of slut, whore), degradation, and a possessive Toji. Happy Halloween!
"You're not wearing that."
Glancing down, you swiftly study your skin tight garment, pouting slightly.
"Yes, I am... it's on my body, isn't it?" Head whipping towards a brooding Toji, you smirk, a playful giggle bubbling in your chest.
"Very funny, smart ass." He huffs out, the beginning fire of a hissy-fit sparking up in his pebble-shaded eyes. He drags his feet over to you, bit-to-the-stub nails gripping at the skin engulfed by faux leather.
"Don't you think you're gonna get cold? Your legs are hangin' out like it's nobody's business." Toji grumbles, turning you towards the full sized mirror angled against your bedroom wall.
Toji is less than thrilled, to say the least. There you stand, figure squeezed and kissed by the tight fabric of your Playboy bunny one-piece. Complete with a puffy cotton tail and upright, pointed ears. Words can't describe the feeling that struck deep inside Toji's gut the second he saw you all whored out for this stupid Halloween party. The feeling grew from pleasurable to territorial when he realized he wouldn't be the only one seeing you tonight.
"The alcohol should keep me warm." You wiggle out of his grasp, patting his stone chest, before sitting down at the princess vanity he built for you. You pat at your cheeks with blush, sharpen your eyeliner, and touch up your burgundy lipstick.
"Don't start with that. Don't be such a little fucking brat." Toji's tone is harsh as he crosses his arms across his broad chest.
The lack of control brewed anxiety in his limbs and lungs. You invited him... you really meant it, too. But he was the one who turned you down.
"A Halloween party? Sweets, I'm too damn old for that shit."
Toji's attitude was expected, but throughly unappreciated by you... so you simply ignore him. You hear him groan before he lifts you off your cushioned seat, taking your place and settling you into his lap.
Before you can tell him off, he's nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, tenderizing the area, before roughly biting down. You hiss, pushing his heavy head away and once again escaping his almost solid embrace.
"Ouch Toji! Ugh, what the fuck..." You trail off towards the end of your sentence, feeling the sting of his sharp teeth at the base of your neck.
"Fuckin assholes... their eyes are gonna be all over you, y'know... my fucking bunny. Dressed all cute and slutty."
Toji is still sat, arms crossed, a suble pout on his lips. A grown man throwing a tantrum like a four year old. And he said he's too old for a Halloween party.
Bending at your hips, you push past Toji's slumped shoulders, your eyes making out a wide, dark red mark on your neck.
"For fuck sakes, Toji... you're that fucking jealous hm?" Steadying yourself, hands flat on the vanity, you speak to him through your reflection, voice stern, concrete. He stands behind you, leaning down, his chest flat against your back. He lightly kisses, and kitten licks at the bold mark of territory. Leaning back into him, you feel his semi-hard pressing into the exposed skin of your fishnet-clad ass.
"You look so fucking good, mama. Don't want any of those usless fucking tools seein' ya all dolled up. I want to show you off, not sit here, knowing you're showing off." Finishing off his sentence with a light tug on your hair, he rolls his hips into your backside. Turning in your place, you pull Toji large body into you by his biceps. Groping his growing bulge, you use your other hand to hoist your bottom half onto the desk of your hand-crafted vanity. He follows your lead, staring at you almost expectantly. Sharp eyes follow your foot as it inches its way up Toji's thick thigh. Landing on his crotch, you playfully kick him soft as to not hurt him but firm enough to coax a small groan out of him.
"You like it, though, don't you, Toji? You like knowing that a young, sexy bunny is all yours. You know what to do... maybe if you make me proud, I won't flirt around tonight." You smirk, snapping off the flimsy buttons between your legs. Usually, hearing something like that would force Toji into a juvenile fit. His venomous jealousy would take over, fully souring his mind. But when you have him like this, under your spell, he just wants to prove himself to the woman he admires most.
Quickly, he pulls your pretty red panties aside, allowing the chilling air to wisp at your core. But, the change of temperature isn't the only thing that widens your eyes. Toji's wide tongue flattens upon your heat, licking up and down like an ice cream cone. His head makes exaggerated movements as the tip of his defined nose rubs into your sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure through your body, sizzling out at your toes.
Toji straightens out on his knees, grasping at the back of your calve, bending your leg to fit between him and the wood you're placed upon. Pulling the ball of your foot back against his crotch, he holds the top of your foot to his weeping cock, moaning into you at the easing pressure. He slowly picks up a steady rhythm. You throw your head back, grabbing at Toji's dark locks and pull his face flush against you.
Before you can even reach your climax, you feel Toji stiffen and detach himself from you, and you peer down just in time to see the front of his grey sweatpants deepen in color.
A gruff groan escapes his throat as he sinks his pearly whites into the soft skin of your inner thigh between the open bubbles of your fishnets, like a dog and his bone.
"Ruined my fuckin' sweatpants, shit." Toji grumbles out, standing to his full height, towering over your sitting form. He pulls down the stained fabric, just enough for his veiny, throbbing, stiff dick to pop out. Without warning, he shoves himself into your fluttering, sensitive hole.
"'M gonna fuck ya dumb, bunny." Toji pants out, placing his hands behind you on the polished wood, thrusts immediately adopting a harsh, sharp pulse. Quickly, you begin babbling and cooing out, already being fucked stupid. You can feel your power slip through your fingers with every snap of your boyfriend's powerful hips. Before your dominance completely runs off, shriveled up in fear, you grab onto the back of his head, your mouth seeking his neck.
Toji groans as overstimulation creeps in, weakening his knees until he's in a partial squat, hunched over you.
"Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up, pretty girl. Gonna breed you like a fucking bunny. Every one of those idiots are gonna know who you're a disgusting little whore for." He grunts before you feel warm ropes of cum stuff your womb full. Still cumming, Toji pulls out, aiming his flushed head toward the shiny fabric of your sluttly little suit. He stumbles back, admiring the white streaks soaking into the slick black costume.
"Ugh, Toji, it's gonna stain." You mumble out, still shaking as you try to wipe off his cum with your fingers, engulfing them in your mouth, tasting the salty essence.
"Heh. Good." He lowly chuckles, sitting back down on your fragile chair, throwing his head back in exhaustion. You study the dark purple marks on his neck, perfectly matching the love-bites poorly hidden by the patchwork material on your legs.
"You sure you don't want to tag along? You might need to keep me in check." You smile devilishly, cheekily winking, before snapping the buttons of your skimpy onesie back together.
Toji huffs dramatically, irritation slowly snooping back into his dazed mind.
So there you are, frazzled and flushed, walking into this stupid Halloween party. Hand in hand. A dumb, sweet little bunny with her big, mean, dumber man.
Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo
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Every Second Of Everyday
Note - I’m running out of fics 😭 this one was never supposed to see the light of day but here we are. I hope you enjoy and I’d love some feedback 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 6k
Warnings - angst, fluff & smut
‘So yeah I mean Its really easy, you just have to buy in the dip but obviously you need to know when that is, I can totally teach you if you want me too”
‘Oh yeah sounds… super interesting’
Not.
Listening to a man you’d only met properly an hour and a half ago waffle on about crypto currency and NFT’s was not how you imagined your Wednesday would be going. You had no idea what he was going on about, and you didn’t care either. Disappointment had flooded through you from about ten minutes into the date, he seemed so different from when you’d been messaging. He barely asked you anything about yourself and spent the whole time trying to explain, or rather boast, to you what he did for a living.
‘I’m just popping to the loo, be back in a sec’ he smiled as he stood from his chair. You smiled back and nodded lightly, watching him walk away from you as you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thankful you were finally alone but not two seconds later you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You quickly pulled it out to check it wasn’t an emergency, having not looked at it the whole way through lunch, not wanting to be rude, but the name that flashed up was the last person you thought it would be.
Mason
What the hell did he want?
You and Mason were… complicated. You knew how you felt about him and you were pretty sure he felt the same but for some reason nothing has ever come of it. You’d grown up best friends with Lauren James and her bother Reece, so it was inevitable you’d meet Mason sooner or later. Reece had always mentioned him growing up to the point where you felt like you knew him already sometimes, but you kept yourself slightly separate from that part of their lives, wanting to be the escape from football.
The moment of you meeting Mason came just under six months ago. The season had been over for a week and Reece was throwing a party at his house meaning Lauren insisted you came with her. Reece introduced you to Mason within the first ten minutes of you stepping in the door and you were hooked on him from the first look.
You obviously knew who he was but you tried to play it cool and make out you didn’t. Mason bought your calm exterior hook, line and sinker, telling you that you weren’t like most of the girls he meets at these things. You spent most of that night in his company, laughing at his stupid attempts to make you smile and falling for those gorgeous brown eyes every time you looked in them. He wasn’t anything like you thought he’d be, you were expecting an ego the size of a truck to match his perfect face but as time went on you realised he was just a normal guy who did a not so normal job. You exchanged numbers at the end of the night, him kissing your cheek promising to text you the very next day and you didn’t expect anything from him with how busy he was yet when you woke up the next day with a message from him your tummy had erupted into butterflies.
It had all started out so well, cute texts here and there and promises of seeing each other as soon as you could but nothing ever materialised. You got it, he was Mason Mount and you were you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The texts mostly dried up, only checking in with each other here and there and only seeing each other at social events. You’d made peace with the fact nothing probably would ever happen yet that didn’t stop him from getting his way when he wanted.
He would always make eye contact with you from across the room when you were together, smirking cheekily when he noticed the blush taking over your cheeks as his come to bed eyes raked over you hungrily. He liked the fact he could do that to you and he seemed to make it his mission to tease the life out of you. His hands always finding your waist as he passed behind you, or sitting as close as he could to you on the sofa so he could run his fingers over your thighs.
You loved and hated every second of it.
You thought he was unbelievably attractive and it only took a flash of his perfect smile to get you hot under the collar. Every time his tongue poked out between his lips to wet them made your knees weak and you were pretty certain no other boy had made you feel like this before. It wasn’t all bad, and you soon fell for his goofy playful side. Admiring the way he was always making people, yourself included, laugh at his stupid jokes and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t have a fear of making himself look like a prat. You found him awfully endearing when he wasn’t trying to get under your skin so the stupid little crush you had on him didn’t face in the slightest.
But in the last two months it had become unbearable. He was a lot braver with his actions and one night after a little bit too much to drink he’d cornered you in the kitchen, pressing feather light kisses to the top of your shoulder from behind you and slowly making his way up your neck as you were trying grab a glass. No words were exchanged as he pressed his lips to your skin, knowing he’d followed you in hoping to catch you alone and If it hadn’t been for the loud crash coming from the other room you would have let him carry on. It seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in though and after giving you a quick wink he turned on his heel and left you stood flabbergasted.
You told yourself that night that whatever game he was playing was over. You weren’t one to stick up for yourself, clearly, but you couldn’t stand another second of him having this weird hold over you without it leading anywhere. The next morning you dowloaded a dating app, telling yourself you needed to get out there and meet some different people and see what happens. Show him that he wasn’t free to keep dangling ideas in front of your face without acting on them.
Which is how you need up in this situation today.
Charlie had seemed nice when you matched him a few days ago. He was cute and and he made you laugh but being sat opposite him was a complete other story. This was the third different date you’d been on in a month and you were starting to loose all hope of finding anyone that made you feel a fraction of what Mason did.
You sighed as you unlocked your phone to see what he wanted but your blood ran cold as you opened up the message.
It was you.
Well the back of you anyway, sat in the exact place you were right now. You slowly turned round and your eyes locked onto his right away, sat three tables back and slightly off to the left. You whipped back around before he could do anything else and tried to calm you racing heart.
What are the bloody chances?
As soon as you finished your thought, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Mason coming through.
Why is this happening to me?
You chose to ignore it, locking your phone and turning it over, hoping he would see you’re not in the mood to talk to him. He didn’t get the hint though and you groaned under your breath as his final text come through.
You hated to admit that his assertiveness made you clench your thighs together, but there was no way in hell you were going home with him. Well that’s what you told yourself anyway.
Charlie returned from the loo soon after and after a small back and forth, you agreed to let him pay for lunch. He was putting his pin in when you saw Mason heading for the door, sending you a small smile as he made his way outside. You continued looking at him as he said goodbye to his friend and made his way over to his car. The only thought in your brain being about how good he looked in something as simple as a black T-shirt and cargos, one of your favourite things to see him in and you only snapped out of your trance when Charlie let out a small cough.
‘Sorry, I was in my own little world there’ you apologised with a smile and he just smiled in return. ‘You up too much the rest of the day?’ You enquired, hoping he was so you could make a swift exit and thankfully for you he nodded.
‘Unfortunately yes, I need to get back home and check my stocks, but I’ve really enjoyed this, we’ll have to do it again some time’ he smiled and rather than let him down gently you just nodded, gathering your things so you could get out of there and away from him as quickly as possible. He walked you to the door and put his arm around you awkwardly before leaving a light kiss on your cheek. ‘See you around then y/n’. He smiled and all you could do was smile back before he walked off, thankfully in the opposite direction than you needed.
Now you were rid of him, there was one other person you needed to send on their way before you could go home and think over your life decisions whilst drowing yourself in the tub of ben and Jerrys in your freezer.
You eyes scanned over to Masons car, still parked up, and you walked to him slowly. Telling yourself to be strong and get it over with quickly and once you were at his drivers side window you tapped on it lightly three times before the window came down revealing a slightly confused looking Mason.
‘What you doing? your doors on the other side’ he winked ‘come on, get in’
‘Yeah about that, I don’t think it’s a good idea I’m just gonna head home. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing anyway’ you told him. Not meaning for it to come out sounding so bitter and clearly Mason picked up on it, his smile quickly turning into a frown.
‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’
You just shrugged and he studied your face for a second before he opened his door. You stepped back slightly but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, slotting you in-between his legs as he sat side on.
‘Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages. Why don’t you wanna hang out?’ He asked quietly. He was giving you his best puppy dog eyes they were really working on you, he looked genuinely upset you didn’t want to spend time with him. His hands planted themselves on your waist, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under your top. His gentle touch was making you fold and he knew it. “Please y/n, just for a little while? I promise I’ll take you home after’ he pouted, and you cursed at yourself in your head for giving into him so quickly but you couldn’t think straight when his hands were on you and he was looking at you like he was.
‘Fine, but I can’t stay long’ you lied. You had all day free, you just weren’t sure you’d be able to handle a whole afternoon of his antics.
He gave you that cheeky smile he always did, but released you so you could jump into his passenger seat. The whole ride to his house was perfect, this was the Mason you liked, no teasing or getting you flustered for his own entertainment. He asked you how you’d been and he seemed genuinely interested when you answered, a stark contrast from the lunch you had just endured and he seemed just as excited to fill you in on everything you’d missed out on in his life recently.
Once you’d arrived at his, he led you through to the kitchen to grab you both a drink, telling you to make yourself comfy on his sofa. You’d been to his house a handful of times but always with other people, today being the first time it was just the two of you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. You tried to relax into the corner of the L shaped sofa, telling yourself you’re just catching up with a friend and there was nothing to fret over. Mason soon returned and placed your drink down on his coffee table before flopping down right next to you, his thigh pressed right up against yours and his arm resting across the back of the sofa behind you. You could feel the tips of his fingers stroking over the material of your top making you even more dazed than before.
‘So you gonna tell me who that was you were having lunch with?’ He asked. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was on a mission to poke fun at you now and you sighed quietly. Knowing it was too good to be true that maybe for once you could just be normal with each other.
‘Just a guy’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘Just curious’ he smirked. You knew he was trying to get at you so you thought you’d try and match his energy.
‘His name is Charlie, he’s a crypto billionaire’ you tried to say confidently but as soon as the words flew out your mouth you wished you could of stuffed them back in. Like Mason would care how much money he had? Charlie didn’t even have a fraction of a billion but you were desperate at that point to make him a little jealous. You mentally face palmed yourself when you saw Masons eyebrow twitch up into somewhat of an ammused smirk.
‘Right… and how did you meet Charlie the crypto king?’
You didn’t want to tell him how, but the longer you sat there trying to think of another way you knew he wouldn’t believe you, so you just went with the truth.
‘We matched on hinge’ you said quietly, avoiding his gaze, but you head shot up when you heard his little giggle. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh come off it y/n, what’s a girl like you doing looking for guys on hinge?’
‘What do you mean a girl like me?’ You scowled. You were starting to get really annoyed with him, hoping he’d choose his next words carefully so you didn’t blow up in his face.
‘I just didn’t think a gorgeous girl like yourself would look twice at any of the guys on there’ he said with a shrug. You tried to brush past the compliment but you could feel your cheeks burning up already, knowing it was giving Mason a kick to see the effect his words had on you. ’He was nowhere near good enough for you, I could tell by the way you were sitting you weren’t feeling it. Its like you’re boredom was radiating across the room’
‘Oh yeah cause you know so much about me Mason’
‘Id like to think so, yeah’ he winked, the hand resting on his thigh now making its way onto yours. You had to ball your fists at your sides in order to keep calm. ‘If you wanted a lunch date you could of always called me, I know you’d rather have me sat opposite you’
‘You’re unbelievable’ you growled, finally rising to you feet and and making a beeline for the door.
‘Hey come on y/n don’t be like this, I’m only messing’ He teased as he jumped up after you and reached out for your arm to stop you, but you’d finally had enough. Seeing red, you yanked your arm out of his grasp and turned to face him. Ready to give him a piece of your mind.
‘You know what Mason? Yeah maybe he was a bit boring but at least he had the guts to ask me out’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘All you do is lead me on, you make me feel like you like me and then you go cold on me its fucking exhausting. Do you think I want to be meeting up with randomers off hinge?’ You barked at him. He seemed slightly taken aback by your outburst but his eyes were looking at you hungrily. He’d never seen this side of you before and he was loving it. ‘You’re so full of yourself all the time, thinking you can just invite me back here and i’ll come running? I’m so sick of your shit-‘
Before you could think about what was happening, Mason had pulled you into him and his lips were on yours. Slowly walking you back until you were pressed up against the nearest wall, one hand on your waist, the other lightly wrapped around your throat.
He kissed better than you ever imagined he could and you cursed yourself for moaning into his mouth. The feel of his smile on your lips frustrated you even more than you thought possible and his mouth soon detached from yours as he flipped you round. Your chest now pressed to the wall, his front leaning into your back and you could just start to feel him hardening against your bum.
‘This what you wanted from me yeah?’ He whispered into your ear. You turned your face to try and look at him over your shoulder, but his lips on the other side of your neck made you close your eyes. He could feel the way your breathing was getting shallower as his fingertips raked up your side and he was eager to see just how far he could push you. ‘You still sick of my shit or you want me to keep going?’
‘Keep going’ you whimpered quietly, the words coming out your mouth before your brain could figure out what you wanted to say, and you felt him smile against your neck.
‘Good girl’
‘Im not your good girl, mase’ you countered but you knew you were just lying yourself. You always had been and you always would be.
He turned you back round and tucked your loose hairs behind your ears before leaning down and kissing you again lightly. ‘We’ll see’ he breathed into your mouth. ‘Go sit back down for me yeah?’ He asked but you waited a moment, both looking at each other to see who would break first but you could tell he wasn’t budging so you silently made you way back over to his sofa. Your fingertips touching your lips as you still couldn’t believe after all this time you’d finally kissed him.
He stood studying you for a few seconds before following you over, however instead of taking up his seat from before, he knelt down infront of you. Parting your knees and slotting himself in between them. His hands came to rest on either sides of your hips and his face now dangerously close to yours.
‘I know we’ve got some things we need to talk about, but can you please let me make you feel good first?’ He whispered, kissing you again softly. ‘I think it’s just best we get this out our system cause there’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything serious if all I can think about is what’s under these clothes’
You were having an internal battle, obviously you wanted him but would it just make everything afterwards more difficult? Was he just saying this to get one over on you? He could see you were struggling with what to do so he kissed your neck trying to show you how much he needed you.
‘Please baby, just a taste’ he whispered just below your ear and you felt your whole body erupt in goosebumps. Fuck he was good. It was like he knew exactly what to say and do to you. You knew you were wrapped around his finger but up until now you hadn’t realised how much. ‘You can trust me I promise’
Could you trust him?
The only thing on your mind was the thought of him getting you down to your underwear and then him telling you it’s all a joke. That this was just a new low for him to try and get one over on you but you knew Reece would kick him into next week if he ever tried something like that and the look in Masons eyes also settled you a bit.
You wanted to say no but you you were too caught up in him finally giving you what you wanted. Thinking to yourself, even if this is all you ever got from him then you’d find a way to live with it. You just couldn’t refuse him when he was in between your thighs, promising to make it worth you while. So you nodded and kissed him back, a little deeper this time, parting your lips so he could slip in tongue in when he silently asked for permission.
God he was so good at this, you thought as his hands came to rest at the waistband of you jeans. Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner? if I had to pick between breathing or kissing Mason, I think id choose the latter.
His fingers slowly made their way to the button on your jeans, and he pulled back, looking at your face to make sure you were still comfortable. You nodded at him so he carried on, unzipping you before tapping your thigh so you would lift your hips in order for him to rid you of them. Next to come off was your top, leaving you with only your bra on underneath, thanking the lord you’d decided to put a nice one on this morning. Feeling your slight discomfort at being the only one without clothes on, he peeled his own top from his body, tossing it over the back of his sofa.
You’d seen pictures of his body before and knew what it looked like under certain things but seeing it like this in person made your mouth water. He was flawless.
His kisses resumed and then he made his way down your neck, across your collar bones and down your chest. As he mouth was nearing where you needed him, you sank back into the cushions. You felt his lips dance across the band of your underwear before he hooked his thumbs under and pulled them down you legs.
‘So fucking perfect’ he murmured between kisses over your hips and thighs, the sound of his voice made your tummy flip with anticipation.
You were torn between looking at him or laying back and just enjoying it, so you grabbed and cushion and stuffed it behind you, giving you the perfect view of what he was about to do to you. You were growing impatient with his gentle kisses on you inner thighs, wishing he would just burry his face in you already so you threaded your fingers through his hair and attempted to guide him to where you needed him. You felt him smirk against you, placing one final kiss against you before giving you what you wanted.
He teased your folds apart slowly with his tongue, and when he made contact with your clit, circling over it slowly a few times, you let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
You couldn’t help his name falling off your lips and he moaned into you at the sound. A sound he’d been waiting forever to hear. You felt your breathing deepen as he got into his rhythm, bringing his fingers up to spread you apart even further. Your moans for him only growing louder and it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going, eventually slipping those same fingers inside of you to heighten your pleasure.
‘You taste so fucking good’ he growled and pumped his fingers into you a little faster, hitting the spot that made you cry out. ‘That feel good baby?’
‘Yes Mase, so fucking good, please keep going im so close’
If you weren’t so horrifically turned on then you might have been embarrassed about how quickly he’d managed to get you to this point but you didn’t care. You felt too good to think about anything else.
‘Come on baby, be good for me and cum’ he moaned against you and you thought in that moment you you would have done anything he asked you to. Why did he have to be so good at everything?
It only took a few more seconds and you were cumming over his fingers, his mouth still working on you to ride you through it, and when he felt like you’re breathing had calmed down, he kissed his way back up your body to you lips. You let out a small hum as you tasted yourself on his lips, a slight giggle coming from you and you tried to hide in his neck out of embarrassment. He couldn’t help but laugh himself as he sat down next to you, pulling you into his lap, both slightly overwhelmed with what had just taken place. He reached behind him for the blanket he kept there, wrapping it around the both of you.
After a few moments of silence you felt his lips lightly press on your forehead before he muttered the words ‘i’m sorry’
Ah shit.
This was part you were dreading. The first thought coming to mind was him telling you he’s sorry for making you think the two of you could be anymore than you already were. You told yourself you were fine with it, but the feeling of your heart sinking told you you weren’t.
He must of felt your disappointment, his arm tightening around you slightly whilst his other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes looked soft and from the slight smile that played on his lips you thought it best to see what he had to say rather than get up and run.
‘All the cocky bullshit with you, it’s always just been a front. Truth is, the way you make me feel scares the shit out of me’ he told you gently. Your eyes pleaded with him to carry on, but the tsunami in his tummy was holding him back. He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes, figuring it might be easier to tell you how he felt if he wasn’t looking straight at you.
‘I’ve liked you from the first moment I saw you. Before that even’ he chuckled. ‘Recce talked about you all the time and I’ve always wanted to meet you but you make me more nervous than anyone else I’ve ever known. I think about you every second of everyday and I kick myself that I’ve never been able to just grow a pair and tell you’
You could feel his heart racing in his chest, the tempo matching your own at his words. You slowly stroked your thumb over his hand in an attempt to calm him so he could carry on, your gentle touches only making him fall for you even more.
‘I guess I just thought if we carried on the way we were then I’d still sort of have you. Like the fear of you rejecting me was worse than only having you a little bit’ he chuckled and you nuzzled into his neck a little at his confession. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel as bad as I did though, half the time I wasn’t even trying to tease you I just wanted to be near you. I know I should of just asked you how you felt but if you haven’t noticed I’m not all that smart sometimes’
You shifted on his lap so he’s had to look at you, you noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks from all of his confessions and all you wanted to do was kiss him. His smile mirrored your own and you were now ready to share your feelings in the same way he just had.
‘Why don’t you ask me now?’
‘Huh?’
‘Ask me how I feel about you’
He took in a deep breath and shook his head lightly with a smile, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. ‘How you do you feel about me, y/n?’
Come on girl, you got this.
‘I think about you every second of everyday, too’ you whispered, causing him to giggle and burry his head in your hair. ‘It’s true, I’ve always liked you Mase. Maybe I could have been a bit braver and told you first but I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t know for sure you liked me the way I like you and I guess I was kinda the same? I was alright with having you a little bit but that fear of rejection was holding me back’ you told him and you felt him nod into your hair and hold you that tiny bit closer. ‘I didn’t wanna go on dates with other guys but I couldn’t take not having you anymore and figured it would be a good distraction so I could move on from you but no one ever made me feel like you do’
He moved again so he could look at you, his thumb stroking over your jaw softly and a slight look of guilt dressed his face. ‘I’m sorry I made it get to that point I never meant to make you feel that way. I hated seeing you out with someone else today like it proper hurt but I suppose it gave me the kick up the backside i needed.’ you chucked and turned your face in his hand to kiss his palm. It felt amazing to finally be this close to him but the little voice in the back of your head was stopping you from fully enjoying it. Mason must have sensed your change and tilted your face back up towards his. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothings wrong, just what happens now? Where do we go from here?’
‘Well if you’d let me, I’d love to take you for dinner tonight. Like a proper date?’
‘Two dates with two different men in one day, what will people think of me’ you teased and he just laughed at your silliness.
‘Yeah well I’m saying this mornings one didn’t count. I have a funny feeling you won’t be seeing Charlie the crypto king any time soon’
You felt your face flush in embarrassment but his lips on your cheek made you smile. You snuggled into him more and he moved to lay down taking you with him and after a few moments of silence you felt his breathing getting heavier so you kissed his chest and settled down next to him.
‘Wake me up in ten minutes’ you heard him say softly and you tried to hold your giggle in at his antics.
‘Sure thing Mase’ you whispered and lent back as the face you adored slowly drifted off.
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Azula And The Tides: The Most Misread Scene in ATLA
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before:
“The tides scene shows how irrational and spoiled Azula is! She got lucky! She endangered her whole crew for her pride!”
Or any similar variation.
The only problem is it’s not even remotely close to true. Let’s talk about that.
Here is the scene in question for reference:
Seems pretty straightforward, right? I mean, the Captain warned Azula about the tides and she put her ego before reason and made the crew take a huge risk. Horrible leadership and narcissism on her part, right?
Except for one little detail.
Azula was right.
Remember in “The Storm” when Zuko demands his ship chase after the Avatar and his crew warns him that it’s a fool’s errand because they’ll surely perish in the storm? Zuko stubbornly insists his goals are more important than anyone else’s lives, including his Uncle, and demands they drive recklessly into the storm. Sure enough, the crew nearly perishes in the storm, just as predicted, and Zuko is humbled enough to even rescue his Lieutenant that he disrespected earlier in the episode.
I bring this up so we understand how ATLA sets up and then demonstrates its narrative cause and effect. It’s rather straightforward as, after all, this is being written to be inteligible to children.
So what happens with Azula’s ship when she demands they dock right away despite her Captain’s warnings?
The ship docks without incident or injury.
In fact, they dock stealthily enough that neither Zuko nor Iroh see Azula coming and she’s able to surprise them. How would this be possible if the Captain had been correct in his assessment and Azula had just been acting out of ego?
I’ve seen some people argue that Azula just got lucky, like a drunk person driving home in a car. Not that I expect the average person to have extensive knowledge about docking a ship, but it demonstrates a severe gap in knowledge of the subject matter. When it comes to the tides you cannot half-ass it. Either the tides are in or they’re not. Either they’re high enough or they’re not.
And if they’re not, what happens? The rocks you can’t see beneath the waves will shred your ship apart and you will get stuck or outright sink. Best case scenario, if by an act of divine intervention you avoided all the rocks, you’re still screwed because your ship is going to get beached and tip over. Especially with a ship of that size!
You cannot squeak by here. Even with all of our tech and modern day ships, if you don’t respect the tides, you’re going to have a bad time. There is no avoiding this.
It boggles my mind why people assume Azula is the one in the wrong here and not the Captain who is later shown to be so incompetent that he spoils the mission. He was talking down to her and she rightfully put in his place. Cold and ruthless as her method may have been, she was making it clear that she is not to be talked down to or to have her authority questioned. An important skill for a young leader. Look at the comparison with Zuko who couldn’t wrangle his men. They were about to mutiny and would’ve if Iroh hadn’t intervened! Azula has no Iroh to fall back on. She has to manage on her own. And she does!
In this same episode we are shown that Azula is a perfectionist who can’t tolerate a single hair out of place. But somehow we are supposed to believe she is also reckless and incompetent? I don’t think so.
We also know that Azula canonically attended the Royal Fire Academy for girls. This wasn’t some preppy finishing school, it was an intense military academy with survival training so deadly that Rangi described having to eat worse than rats to make it out alive. We know Azula excelled in school. Why wouldn’t she know something as basic as how to read the tides? That’s seafaring 101.
Combine that with the fact that all their best naval officers probably perished at the North Pole and it’s easy to glean that this Captain isn’t exactly their A-Team.
So what IS the point of this scene if not to show Azula being irrational, egotistical, or incompetent?
Remember our comparisons to Zuko? The point of this scene is to show how much better and scarier of a leader Azula is. It’s a simple way to convey to the audience that unlike Zuko, Azula *can* and *does* command like a true military leader. She is therefor a more frightening and dangerous opponent for our heroes to face than the already dangerous Prince they’ve been battling since the previous season.
I don’t think this misinterpretation would’ve ever spread so far if some fans weren’t dead set on trying to tear down Azula for the simple crime of being better at things than fan-favorite Zuko.
And I say this as someone who adores Zuko.
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“im just excited, is all” — or an alt title: roo vs. the australian allegations
who is roo, really? why is roo?
a/n a short one cause if im being honest theres just one tiny explanation and... yeah
or, yknow, alt alt title: daniel’s detective era
THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD
“WOOOO!! I’M NEVER GONNA DIE!” she yelled into the radio, at this point not even shocking her engineer anymore.
“sure, kid.” he chuckled. “congratulations, again, i’ll see you out.”
as soon as she parked her car, the girl quickly jumped out of her seat and stand on the nose of her car, jumping repeatedly with both her feet going up and down excitedly. it ends with a last hard jump off the car and her hands up in the air, yelling on the top of her lungs.
when suddenly — to everyone’s dismay — she started shuffling. well, attempted, shuffling.
daniel, who had the pleasure of sharing the podium with her and was there to witness it first hand, could not help but unknowingly let his hand fly to his mouth to muffle his laughter. man, he just took off his balaclava, he thought.
then, just his luck, the girl stopped mid-shuffle and looked towards his way and waved at him excitedly before running towards the australian and attacking him in a bear-hug.
of course, the man expected the hug, what he didn’t expect was how strong it was going to be.
he let out a muffled “oof” as soon as she collided with him. daniel did not think he has ever gotten a hug this tight. let alone receiving it from a girl almost half his size.
“congratulations!” she could not get bored of hearing that. making her hug him tighter, “okay, oh, lord, i can’t breathe. please.”
“oh—hehe, sorry.” she immediately let go of the man and ran off—well, more hopped off—to get herself weighed.
the older man could not help but chuckle watching her hop away.
again, really?
the girl could never not get bored of all the demeaning questions that seemed to only be targeted towards her.
unfortunately for them, she was not having it that day.
so here she was, berating a man who was like generations behind her — and everyone else — with the rest of the grid listening, watching in amusement.
they always enjoy watching her absolutely destroying male fossils that walked the paddock. it was free entertainment.
her manager didn’t even stop her anymore — well, he did, usually when he knows she’ll say something completely unhinged and not for viewers ears — he just watches with a proud smile like the rest of the drivers until she eventually runs out of breath, all the while also stealing it from the opposite person.
and now it’s about five minutes later and the room was silent, really soaking in her words.
as usual, daniel was the one to break the silence — his tone doing its best to relief the tension that clouded the room.
“remind me not to piss you off.”
sebastian found his voice when he looked towards daniel, “i really admire her agression.”
“i try.”
the mclaren driver was minding his own business when suddenly he felt someone plop down on the seat next to him.
said person didn’t say anything, they just stared at him blankly for a good few seconds. in return, daniel had the expression equivalent of a question mark.
until eventually he felt a little creeped out, “what do you want?”
her response was… weirder.
“what do you want?”
“…what?”
suddenly, out of nowhere, the twenty-two-year-old pulls out a fanny pack from the side. and when she opened it, they were both met with all kinds of candy.
daniel raised his eyebrows at the girl.
“this stays between us.”
it did, but also no, she had previously already approached alex, mick, lando, and yuki, doing the exact same thing.
“…okay?” he then removed the confused expression on his face to one of curiosity of what’s inside the pack, “you got any haribo?”
“everyone, everyone, everyone!”
the girl hopped over to the group of men, dragging a slightly smaller one with her.
“yes, yes, yes!” replied george.
she the shoved the brunette girl in her arms to the front, holding her by both her forearms from the back.
“i want you all to meet daisy-mae!”
a strings of ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s along with ‘nice to meet you’s were exchanged.
the young driver then noticed a certain australian missing.
“hey where’s dan— DANNY!” she jumped when she saw said man approaching. as usual, she excitedly hopped her way over to him.
he chuckled, “hey, roo.”
at that, she stopped mid-way and looked at him confused, “who?”
“you.”
“huh.”
“you’re like a ‘lil kangaroo, y’know?”
still confused, she was brought out of a daze when she heard loud sounds of agreement from behind her.
“that’s what she is!”
“aw, that’s cute, our little kangaroo…”
“LITTLE?!”
taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoisons @vellicora
hope this didnt disappoint </3
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HOUSE CALL
Tags: Zayne x reader, fluff, domestic, beginnings of a relationship?
Warnings: mentions of blood, reader gets a wittle hurt
Synopsis: So grocery shopping went a little crazy, nothing a little house call from your primary care physician can't fix.
Author's note: hiyah! First time writing and posting a complete fic, sorry for any mistakes, and uhhhhh Zayne is my pookie, what can I say?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The rain had gotten temperamental over the last hour, swinging from drizzle to torrential in a matter of minutes. On any other day this would have lulled you to sleep but the itch of the cuts on your ribs and the flecks of dried blood under your fingernails were a sensory nightmare.
You’d spent the last half hour just catching your breath on your now slightly blood-stained couch, recounting the incident that left you oh so pained and disgruntled.
A wanderer attack in the middle of your grocery shopping disrupted you mid deliberation on which snack to treat yourself to, and in the flurry of dodging claws and diverting the wanderer’s attention from terrified shoppers you slipped on the slick, just-mopped, floors, allowing the monster to graze you with its serrated pincers.
The pain was akin to the worst papercut you’d ever had, times a billion and as wide as a discount banana. It really hurt. And the oncoming migraine was really not ideal. The knocking in your head was becoming louder, too loud. Like, someone actually knocking on your door.
Begrudgingly you push yourself off the couch and walk, or really hobble to your front door; the source of the knocking. A confused peak through the peephole and your stomach drops, cause if there’s one thing worse than getting hurt, it’s your primary care physician catching you getting hurt.
“Hey...” You crack the door open, enough to show your face, which you hope didn’t look as bad as you felt. “I wasn’t expecting you here…”
He’s sporting the usual aloof look, scanning what he can see and deducing that you’re hiding the worst from him.
“Your wound will get infected if you don’t clean it.” Blunt and on the dot. As expected of the infallible Dr. Zayne.
He doesn’t wait for you to respond and pushes the door the rest of the way open. Too exhausted to deny it, you simply step aside and follow him to your kitchen like a little duckling.
He’s already pulled out a first-aid kit, the one he gifted you himself after the last late night house call. You walked in while he was washing his hands and he’s not looking at you when he tells you to sit.
You plant yourself on the closest chair and he brings a bowl filled with water and a rag soaking in it.
“Lift your shirt.”
“Is this covered under my insurance plan?”
“Unfortunately, this is out of your service, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” He gets on his knees so he's eye level with your wound.
“Gasp! Can I afford this? Doctor, please I hav-” Your monologue was interrupted by a candy he had unwrapped and popped into your mouth. Mhmm strawberry flavored.
“The patient needs to behave.”
Given that he’s still bantering with you, the injury must not look that bad.
Any response you would have had is cut off by the sting and shock of the cold rag he’s gently wiping across your ribs.
Silence fills the air and in the calm it finally hits you.
“Wait, how did you know I got hurt?”
He doesn’t answer at first. Opting instead to search for a gauze and scissors to cut it to size.
“I didn't. It was a lucky guess.”
“Huh?”
“I heard news of a wanderer attack near your place. ”
“That doesn't necessarily mean I'd get hurt?”
His fingers ghost over your skin as he finishes taping the gauze. Your eyes follow the trail of his hands. Large and littered with scars from his time on the field. Hands that have saved so many lives. Lost in your thoughts you almost miss the next thing he says.
“-Take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?!”
He sighs and gets off his knees, now towering over you. He looks down and you think you see just the smallest hint of amusement on his face, but you blink and it's gone.
“I said,” he pauses and leans in closer, “you're still in your bloody uniform, you need to take off your clothes.”
“Ah.” Your mouth is dry as you mentally reprimand yourself for assuming he had meant something else.
“Do you need me to carry you to your room?”
“Nope.”
And with that you are on your feet, scurrying over to your room. You're changed and in much comfier attire in no time. Meanwhile, Zayne has since been inspecting your fridge.
He closes the door and you can already hear the lecture he's about to give.
“Before you say anything, I was going to buy groceries, BUT, the wanderer sort of distracted me.”
He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone. Deft fingers tapping on the screen.
“The food will be here in 30 minutes, you should drink water and rest in the meanwhile.”
“Huh?”
He walks off to grab a glass and fills it with water before coming back to escort you to your couch. Instructing you to finish the drink. His eyes hone in on the blood stains and his brows furrow but he doesn’t say a word.
He walks back to the kitchen, dampens another rag, and squeezes a few drops of soap on top. Before you can stop him, he’s kneeling on one knee and making quick work of the stains and patting the spot dry.
“Zayne, you’re being so domestic. Do you do this for all your patients?”
He places the rag on your coffee table and turns to you, and for the first time you’re actually looking down on his face.
You stare, taking in his eyes, a shade of honey green that you could spend hours poring over, like an ever-shifting image of a galaxy. When did you get so poetic?
The rain’s pitter patter and the soft ambience of lamplight make this feel like a scene out of a movie, the yellow glow softening his sharp features. He reaches over and palms your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbones.
“Only for my most reckless patients.”
You can feel the rise of your chest, the fluttering of your heart, and swallow slowly; eyes wander all over his face.
It’s only now that you notice that his hair is a little damp. You inch closer and you catch his eyes lower to your lips. Time moves at that infuriatingly slow speed like you’re dreaming, and the- DING DONG!
Delivery. Mood shaken, and sudden realization of what was about to happen, you both stand and look away. Zayne beats you to the door and grabs the food from the clueless delivery guy as you try your best to not stare daggers at him.
You go to set the table for two, but Zayne interrupts you.
“I have to go soon.”
“What?” Your disappointment clear.
“I just got a message, there’s a patient under critical condition I ought to check on.”
He places the food on the table, and you grab his hand to stop him.
“Wait, you ordered the food, you should take it.”
“I ordered it for you.” He replies cooly.
“Zayne!”
You can see that he has no intention of taking any of it with him and admit defeat.
“Fine. But I’m taking you out to lunch tomorrow.”
He smiles and gently pats your head. “I look forward to it.”
You walk him over to your door and hand him an umbrella, the rain still pattering outside. He turns to you and gestures for you to come closer.
Confused you inch closer and lean into him. His hand finds its way back to your cheek and he places a quick soft kiss on your forehead.
“This will do for now.” He smirks and walks away before your brain is able to process what just happened.
“For now?!” You barely manage to yell at him before he rounds the corner and disappears down the hallway.
Mouth agape, you’re about to go running after him but are promptly reminded of your injured state by a sudden stab of pain.
“Zayne!” You’re not sure if he can hear you, but you don’t care. The fluttering in your heart has you almost floating as you giggle and close the door.
You grab your phone and shoot him a message.
You: You’re bad for my heart.
Zayne: Good thing I’m your doctor.
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