#juice bar collective

[exquisiteserotonin]

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: After an altercation Ellie has at school, Joel visits you to have a talk

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ only (MDNI, PLEASE), angst, some violence, coarse language, brief talk of losing children and spouse (if this triggers you), Oral sex (Fem receiving), Squirting, PiV sex, Hurt-Comfort sex, Creampie, no use of y/n

A/N: Not-beta'd. I wrote this very, very quickly a few days ago when I was in some kind of incredibly weepy, hormonal mood or perhaps it was the full moon. Either way, that is why there is so much angst. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to share it today, but here we are. Real tears were shed during the writing of this fic. I'm a wife and a mom, hence why there is talk of reader once having a husband and children (Sorry, if that's not your thing or if you cannot relate). This generally follows canon except that Ellie and Joel are more fully integrated right away to the Jackson community.

Read on AO3

Take My Love, Take it Down

Screams, cries, and murmurs filled the freezing Wyoming air. A sharp pain took hold of your chest, creeping up your neck, and over your back as the sounds reached your ears. It sent you in a wave of memory and panic and was followed by the constant crunching of snow under a few shuffling feet. Clutching your chest, you took a few deep breaths as your charges came running towards you calling out your name. Well, your last name anyway. As their teacher, they didn’t get the privilege of knowing your first name. 

“She punched me!” One of your older students cried out as a few of his peers pushed him forward presenting him to you. 

You winced as you saw blood streaming down his nose, mixed with cold tears that were falling down his face. Other children watched with intrigue as you pulled a few tissues from your coat pocket, bringing them gingerly to his face, gesturing for him to hold pressure to his nose. 

“Who punched you, Carter?” You asked as holding gentle hands to his pale freckled face. 

He and several other students pointed in the same direction, fingers towards your new student, Ellie. You saw her standing a few yards away, her coat disheveled, the knees of her jeans scattered with dirt, and her face red from the cold, but also, mostly, from her anger. A sigh escaped you as you put your hands on your hips. Gently, you gestured for your other students to return to recess while asking your assisting teacher to bring Carter inside to clean up. 

“Ellie, could you come here please?” You requested, beckoning her over with what you hoped was a welcoming gesture.

“It wasn’t my fault, he started coming at me telling me what I should do and how I should be and I--,” her voice was fast and full of rage and pleading. 

“Ellie, stop,” you stated, a natural calm imbued in the tone of your voice, “let me see your hand.” 

The last words that fell from your lips must have been the perfect disarmament, since her response was to hold her hand out to you immediately. You pulled another tissue from your pocket and began to wipe away remnants of blood on her knuckles. Upon closer examination, any injuries she may have sustained were minor especially compared to what she had inflicted on Carter. 

“Carter can be a little much, can’t he?” you added, keeping your gaze on her. “I’m sure whatever he said or did, you've every right to feel the way you did.”

Her eyes lit up in relief at your words. It was a familiar look that you had seen before from your students. The look that lit up when they thought they were about to get away with something. You stilled yourself, holding back emotions that began to well up within you. It was a familiar look you had seen from your own children. 

“But just because someone wronged you doesn’t mean that your automatic reaction should be to hit them.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shouted at you. “This place sucks, with all your peace, love, and harmony shit.”

“Ok, you know what? You need to go inside, Ellie,” you stated, somehow retaining your calm. “In fact, everyone we all need to go inside; recess is over, time to get back to work.”

You waved for your students to line up, while pointing at a space directly in front of you with the expectation that Ellie would take the lead. Begrudgingly, she did, the remainder of the students falling in line behind her. 

As you trudged through the snow back to the school house, you turned to Ellie, “I think I’ll have to talk to Tommy or Maria about this.”

“Why?!” She snapped and then added, “Just because they got me in here doesn’t mean they’re family.”

“Well then, I guess I have to talk to Tommy’s brother,” you countered, “Joel, right?”

“Go ahead and do it then,” she retorted, “but he’s not my dad either.” 

You shrugged but nodded, listening carefully to her words. You never mentioned anything about him being her dad. You just knew that they’d shown up at the gate and were now the newest residents of your quiet community. 

Your one-room classroom buzzed with the chaotically happy energy so often found in a classroom. Thankfully, the rest of the day went without incident. Having students from a very young age to teenagers was not something you were used to. It brought a different kind of chaotic energy that was, at the very least, interesting to observe. The mix of pretend play from your youngest students and the giggling gossip from your oldest students represented life in a world that felt like nothing but death. That’s what everyone told you, anyway.

They didn’t even need to tell you, really. You saw it in their eyes; the way that children and their parents greeted you on the street with their eyes crinkled at the corners with joy and gratitude. It should have made you happy. It made you happy in your life before this. Sometimes you wondered to yourself why you were teaching again. No, most of the time you wondered why you were teaching. 

You replayed the memory of how it happened as you walked home. 

First Maria asked you. 

“No, I don’t think so.”  

Then Tommy asked you.

“No, I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job.”

Then Maria and Tommy asked you. 

The exhaustion that overcame you from their consistent requests eroded what little resistance you had. Their arguments and evidence were hard to defend against especially since you’d been a teacher and that the children in the community loved you. Out of some strange sense of obligation, you refrained from telling them that each day you were just going through the motions. You were like a robot completing an assigned task. Because doing, thinking, or feeling anything else was just too painful. 

You reached your home, a cozy little cottage that was more than enough for you. As you closed the door behind, you felt a tight pain in your chest similar to what you felt this morning. You strangely thought of Ellie, then thought of your boys, then your husband. It rose to your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe. You rushed to the kitchen, filling a glass with much needed water. 

A loud knock on your door had you startled. Grabbing a pistol from a kitchen drawer you made your way to the door. The knock came again. 

Looking through the peephole allowed you some relief when you saw a familiar, rugged-faced man, with salt and pepper hair standing at your door. It was Joel Miller, Tommy’s older brother and Ellie’s apparent caretaker. You opened the door, pistol still in your hand. 

“Hello, I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that,” he gestured towards your gun, “though I won’t hold it against you if keep it nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry” you nodded, “force of habit—please come in.”

You gestured for him to have a seat at a small round dining room table. You placed your gun away in a nearby drawer, observing Joel as he looked around your house. You winced as his eyes settled on a photo of you, your husband, and two children. Reluctantly, after his brief overview of your home, he moved towards your dining room table. 

“You’re probably wonderin’ why I’m here,” he said, taking a seat and spreading his legs in a way that you could only describe as hyper-masculine. 

You clenched your teeth beneath tightened lips as it spurred inexplicable feelings discomfort and disgust. They prodded at you simply because you had noticed. 

“Surprised, yes,” you said, trying to hide the trembling in your voice,“but I think I know why.”

“Ellie gave that boy a bloody nose.”

There was something in his voice, in that Texas drawl that sounded almost like…pride. 

“Yes, I know, I was there,” you acknowledged in exasperation, “I’m sure she had her reasons but I don’t think it warranted violence, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel,” he corrected, “I agree, but you have to understand where she’s comin’ from, ma’am.”

“Alright, Joel, can I get you some water?” you offered. “Please don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.” 

You gave him your first name along with a glass of water. 

“Ellie’s been through a lot,” his voice was hushed and gravel-like as he gave his excuse, “you can’t hold it against her for tryin’ to stand up for herself.” 

“Joel,” you said calmly, tapping into the part of your brain where you held the voice you used when talking to parents at conferences, “we’ve all been through a lot here, doesn’t give us the right to start punching people in the face.” 

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it, though,” he continued, incredulously, “sittin’ pretty in your perfect little town, with your perfect little job, in your perfect little house---you don’t really know what’s out there right now.” 

“What?” 

Your hands began to tremble at the words, traveling up your arms, to your neck. It was as though someone lit a burner inside you and your blood was the fuel. Red and hot, like living lava from the volcano of you, it threatened to erupt. 

“You haven’t seen the things that I’ve seen,” he grumbled, standing up to pace around your home, his right hand trembling, “or done the things I’ve done.”

“What do you want a medal ‘cuz you’ve smuggled shit and killed some people in the process?” you scoffed and advanced on him. “You know, you roll up in here, saying you’re here for family and you come in to my house, Ellie’s teacher’s house, making excuses for her to bash another child’s face in and you expect me to give you sympathy because you’ve got people’s blood on your hands that you chose to spill?”

“I did what I had to survive,” his voice grew in volume as you stepped closer to him, “and I’m teaching Ellie to do the same.” 

“And I am doing exactly the same thing,” you growled at him. 

The way his left eye twitched and the way he moved his jaw told you that he wasn’t expecting that answer. Beyond your control, you felt tears start to sting the corner of your eyes. A sudden feeling of helplessness and shame overcame you as felt the sudden urge to explain yourself to a man you had only known in passing for a few days. 

“I’m not stupid, Joel; Maria and Tommy are my friends, my good friends,” you spoke, not moving from where you stood. “I know what you lost and I know you know…”

The hatred you felt for yourself amplified as the tears fell freely from your eyes. Your view of Joel was blurry from your tears as you tried to find your words again. 

“I know you’re not stupid, I saw you looking at my photos, so you know what I’ve lost,” your lips trembled and stumbled at every word. “I have nightmares all the time and I see them--and how I had to l-leave my, my boys.” 

A broken shell of you was all that was left. Maybe Joel was right, maybe you were just a broken shell in a perfect town, with a perfect job, in a perfect house. All of it perfect from the outside, but none of it real. You drew your hands to your face trying to stop the tears from falling from your eyes as Joel stared back at you. You spotted a flinch here and there as he tried to gather the knowledge to comfort you. 

“I’m sorry, I--,” he said as he reached a tentative hand towards you, but you shook your head and finally took a step away from him. 

“This is how I’m trying to survive, Joel, to try to make things better, but I’m just---just  fucking it all up,” you said through tears. “Everyday, I’m doing this job that your brother begged me to do and everyday I wake up and it’s never real. And these kids, they’re depending on me and asking me to help them with the simplest things and I can’t; my chest hurts and I can’t breathe, and I fuck up, and I fail, and I lose everything.”

The tears were falling so freely now that you can’t even see Joel. All you heard is how loud the silence is, louder than the tears and labored breaths that are escaping from you. You tried to mumble something unintelligibly to Joel. An apology. An explanation. But you’re certain it just comes out in even messier sobs. The next sound that floats to your ears is the creaking of your floor beneath Joel’s booted footsteps as he moves towards you and unexpectedly grabs you by the arm to wrap you in the tightest embrace that you’ve felt in the longest time. 

Tears stained his leather jacket and shirt as you cry into his chest. He spoke nothing. His comfort came in the rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, in the way that he somehow manages to understand to caress the back of your head and your hair, and in the way that his hands rub your shoulders as he squeezes you tighter as if doing so might somehow expel some of your pain. And somehow it did, if only just a little bit. It was enough to allow you to wrap your arms around his waist in return. Your hands explored his back, rubbing up and down to give him back some of the comfort he had given you. 

Everything is still dark behind your closed eyes that are still buried in his shirt. With one quivering exhale, you managed to look up to find him looking back at you. His eyes that were tight with stoicism and anger when he stepped through the threshold of your door had changed. Round, soft, deep brown, and glossy with the onset of tears. You knew them like an old friend because they were just like yours, because they’d seen the same horror and felt the same pain. You took your hands from his waist and cautiously brought them towards his face, learning more with your eyes before he gave you the slightest nod as a form of permission. With your fingers, you gently caressed the wrinkles on his forehead tracing down to his temples until you wiped away the tears that had managed to escape from the corners of his eyes. You held your hands at his cheeks, keeping hold of his gaze with your own. He brought his hands to grip yours, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists before his fingers met your forearms with a touch that was beginning to awaken something inside you. 

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” his words were a cathartic confession. 

You nodded, uncertainty still circling around you as you caressed his face and began to lace your fingers in his dusty-colored hair. It seemed to be all the permission he needed to dive forward to kiss you as he held your face gently in his hands. But you needed more, as quickly as he had moved in to kiss you, you began to peel his jacket off his broad shoulders, throwing it on a chair at your dinner table. A determined, almost dangerous stare filled his eyes as he discarded the flannel shirt beneath his jacket. You pulled off your sweater and blouse in one skillful move, tossing it without a worry as to where it landed. You were left standing before him only in your jeans and bra.  

An obvious hunger had taken over you both, as he lunged at you grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss less chaste than the last. Your lips held onto each other, tongues exploring and tasting each other through the remnants of salty tears. You hooked your hands into his belt loops, grabbing him by his ass to push his hips towards yours, feeling his cock beginning to twitch and harden with need. 

“Bedroom,” you commanded breathlessly. 

He nodded and then lifted you as you leveraged yourself against his chest and shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist while he kept his mouth on yours. He threw you on the bed, eliciting a quiet yelp as you bounced on the firm mattress. You shifted yourself further up the bed as he crawled towards you. Pushing yourself up to your knees you moved towards him pulling him to you by his shirt with desperation. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you sighed, gently pulling it over his head. 

He smiled and let out a breathy chuckle. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since the moment he reunited with Tommy when he and Ellie first arrived in town. This was different, of course: a little playful and a little dirty and something you hoped, at least in the moment, was just for you. 

“Sorry, y’know it’s winter,” he chuckled again as his lips were back on you. 

His hand cupped your breast and then his mouth traveled to your shoulder. You lowered your back to the bed, allowing him to come down with you, his arms pushing himself up on either side of you to get a better view for him to admire your body with his eyes. With a gentle touch of your finger nails, you caressed his forearms and triceps. Your eyes studied the broadness of him and how his chest looked especially strong as he propped himself over you. 

“I’m gonna apologize, ya know, before we---,” he warned quietly, “it’s been a little while.” 

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” you whispered, repeating the words he spoke moments before he kissed you. 

Faster than you could think, he was on you again, somehow expertly unclasping your bra as he rolled with you in your bed sheets. You helped him unbuckle, unzip, and pull off his jeans, laughing as he clumsily kicked them off with his boxers somewhere on your carpeted bedroom floor. With an involuntary bite of your lip, you admired his large, uncut cock as he moved towards you, this time helping you unbutton and unzip your jeans. You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans from them, taking your underwear with them tossing them on the floor to join his. 

You stared at each other for a few moments, drinking in the view of each other’s bodies, maybe even holding a picture of it in your head to keep as a memory to hold on to forever. 

“You sure ‘bout this?” He asked, giving you one more chance to make a smarter, level-headed decision. 

“Joel, please,” you implored, your fingers dancing in his hair, “I need this, need you.”

He brought his face close to yours, first pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss before giving you an equally gentle kiss on your lips. Everything else he did with his mouth however, was anything but sweet and gentle. He led with his tongue, first at your neck and then between the valley of your breasts until he tasted each one, swirling his tongue around the pebbled surface, lightly biting at them with his teeth. The anticipation of where his tongue was leading left you panting. The softness of his lips paired with the coarseness of his mustache and facial hair was the perfect contradiction. Your breath hitched as he kissed your mound, stopping there long enough for you to panic about what he would do next. 

“Joel, is everything ok? Is there…is there something wrong?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. 

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he murmured his voice full of marvel like he’d seen a dream, “just admirin’ the view.”

You smiled and before you could say anything else, his mouth was on you. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, as he worked on you first with a broad lap of his tongue through your folds. He works through them at a torturous pace, pitiful moans echoing through your quiet bedroom. And then he moved faster as he savored you, finding your clit poking at it first with a pointed tip of his tongue until he took it between a tight purse of his lips, sucking on it  furiously until you cried out for him to give you more. He swiped a few more heavy stripes down your folds until his lips are on your clit again, sucking and humming, the vibrations making your already sensitive center weepingly wet. 

“Oh god, god, Joel,” you moaned, your hands grasping at his hair, “I haven’t felt this good in so long.”

You cried out incoherently as he chuckled and returned his attention to your clit, maneuvering two fingers in and out of you as his lips continue to suck and vibrate on the most sensitive part of you. He continued to move his fingers in and out of your folds at an agonizingly fast pace. You whimpered helplessly, crying out his name over and over as he worshipped your cunt like his own personal idol. The pressure from his mouth intensified on your clit as his fingers pulsed in and out, in and out until you cried out seeing stars. A hot gush of liquid came out of you covering his face and hand, dripping onto your ass and onto the sheets beneath you. 

“Shit…fuck, Joel, Joel!” You wail, clutching at the sheets from your orgasm. 

He let go of your clit with a gentle kiss that makes your body jolt from overstimulation. Your body was still writhing from your climax, your breaths were still fast as you tried to bring yourself down. Opening your eyes, you lay in a misty daze as Joel crawls towards you, wiping his face and facial hair with the tips of his fingers and the pad of his thumb, taking one last lick of your essence. You hadn’t seen anything so erotic in years and you pulled him close, your chests pressed together as you took him in a long and sensual kiss. 

“Oh sweetheart, we made a little mess,” he growled as he positioned himself over you. 

“I--I forgot I could do that,” you said, still coasting on the high of your last orgasm. 

Joel breathed out with a low and sexy, but at the same time sheepish. You looked at him, seeing his cheeks slightly pink with a mixture of pride and humility. 

“Glad I could help you remember,” he replied with a smirk,that quickly changed into a heavy groan as you pumped his girthy cock. “Fuck sweetheart.”

“Need to feel you inside me, Joel,” you pleaded, bucking your hips up to his. 

“Yes, baby,” he grunts as you wrap your leg around his thigh. 

With a sudden urge you sat up and held him close, kissing him fervently and rolling over him so that his back was on the bed. Your fingernails gently scratched his expansive chest as you straddle him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation that evolved into pure pleasure as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, unable to keep from moaning with the feeling of him stretching you. You bounced on his cock and grind on him with the tightest of circles. 

“Oh, fuck, Joel you feel so good,” you cried, your pussy fluttering with each bounce. 

“Come on, baby,” he groaned as he started to buck his hips up into you with the same rhythm of your bounce. “Keep ridin’ me, you feel so good.”

Moans and slaps of your skin are all that fills the air in your room. You grabbed at his thighs, feeling ecstasy with each bounce. To your surprise he sat up and grabbed you by the waist, thrusting into you and rolling you over so he’s back on top. For a brief moment, his cock left you and you felt suddenly empty. He settled over, pushing your bent legs up towards your chest. The pad of his thumb easily found your clit again and with a few slaps of his cock at your folds, he was pushing into you again. His hips rocked into you in a new found depth and pace as his thumb continued to circle your bundle of nerves. In this position he felt even wider than he had before and your heart and mind raced with each desperate thrust Joel made. That magic feeling began to will within you again as Joel’s pace became faster and faster. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” he growled through thrusts, grabbing your hips tightly and angling them upward. 

“Oh god, Joel, please, baby,” you cried, knowing you were right there with him. “Take what you need, baby, please take what you need.”

Neither of you could speak anymore. You’d evolved into an orchestral union of bodies, reaching out for each other and crying out each other's names with each grind, push, and thrust. And like dying stars, you exploded together in your orgasms, crying out praise and gratitude for it all and each other. The way his cock pounded in and out of you so easily and how it mingled with your sticky sweetness took you away for a moment. You began to shake uncontrollably and pulled his face close to yours. 

“Oh fuck---I, sweetheart---” was the last thing he moaned before looking to you for a final answer to a question unspoken. 

“Come inside me, Joel, it’s OK,” you assured, shaking as he gave one, two, three more thrusts to fill you up with him before he whimpered into the crook of your neck. 

You collapsed together on your bed, a tangle of heavy breaths and intertwined limbs. For the longest time, you bathed together in your naked silence, pulling up your quilted comforter over your bodies that were starting to get a little cold from the tiniest bit of winter air that you could feel through the walls. 

Through closed eyes you listened to Joel’s heartbeat through his chest where you had rested your head. He had taken your hand and rested it there, gently caressing it with his. More little comforts came to you in the form of him nuzzling your hair with his cheek and kissing your forehead. You could fall asleep like this, but being awake was more fulfilling in every possible way. 

“Hey,” you heard his voice whisper as he caressed your hair and then your shoulder, “you asleep?”

“No,” you murmured, waiting and wondering about his next words. 

“I’m sorry about Ellie,” he apologized. 

“Mmm, it’s okay,” you replied and then added, “just give her time, she’ll find her way.” 

Heart beats and deep breaths and caresses between words. 

“I think so,” Joel’s voice was rough but more resolved than how he had spoken when he came to your door, “I think with your help, she will.” 

You smiled, feeling tears again slip from the corners of your eyes, a cleansing exhale leaving from your lungs. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.” 

He shifted, squeezed your shoulder, and brushed your hair out of your face until you were looking up at him. 

“Hey, baby,” he said softly and then kissed you, his fingers caressing your skin, “you take what you need.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #juice bar collective #juice collective

[lilithland]

imagine you wake up in a dark room, scared and confused, your hands are tied together above your head, your legs are spread apart on a metal bar

you look down and are horrified, all of your clothes except your panties have been removed, you’re freezing, your nipples painfully hard

you go to scream but find a ball gag in your mouth, you start struggling against the chains, sobbing

a large man walks in

“oh, is my cocksleeve finally awake?”

you look up at him and he takes in your disheveled state

“i’m gonna turn you into my perfect little fuck doll and i’m gonna start by breaking in your tiny cunt and tight ass”

you struggle against the chains more and he groans at the sight, he approaches and you realize just how absolutely humongous he is, you’ve never been more scared in your life

he pulls your panties to the side

“is my dirty whore already wet?”

there’s no way

but as his fingers start to slide between your juicy lips you can feel how leaky you are

he slips two massive fingers inside of you, already creating a stretch

he goes slow, finger fucking you like he has all the time in the world, your stomach fills with dread because he does have all the time in the world, you’re completely at his mercy

he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you moan around the gag causing drool to drip onto your exposed tits

you’re humiliated and horrified with yourself, you leak around his hand

he painfully twists one of your nipples causing you to groan, drip, and drool again

he adds a third finger in without warning and it feels like you’re about to be split open

he fucks his fingers in and out of your crying cunt at an abusing pace until suddenly they’re gone

you moan around the gag, dripping more at the humiliation of your own body’s betrayal

“don’t worry, you’ll be filled right back up little girl”

you struggle against the chains more, frantically shaking your head back and forth as he pulls his dick out

he’s huge, you don’t even think the tip would fit, let alone his entire length

“don’t worry sweetheart, daddy’s gonna make it fit”

he approaches you and starts to rub his tip up and down your pussy lips, collecting your juices and causing you to leak even more

despite your wetness, when he does finally decide to push his tip in, it doesn’t go in first try

he grabs your hips and slowly forces his tip into your unwilling hole

when he finally shoves his tip inside you want to scream, already feeling torn open

“look at your girl juices running down my cock, you’re just begging to be stuffed full babygirl”

he takes his time feeding his cock into your inferiority hole inch by excruciating inch

just when you think there can’t possibly be more cock he forces another inch in

his tip touches your cervix and you thrash around wildly, accidentally forcing yourself down on his dick a little more

you feel impossibly full, like your fuck hole is going to rip in two

“i think that’s as far as you’re gonna take me tonight princess, tsk tsk, we’ll have to keep cock training you until you can take my full length”

he grabs your chin and yanks it so you’re forced to look at his cock crammed in your impossibly tight pussy

there’s at least two or three inches that aren’t sheathed in you

you clench around his cock when you see just how torn apart your pussy lips are, you sob harder, feeling absolutely ruined

he pulls his dick all the way out until just his tip is left inside, he slams his cock back into you without warning, setting a brutal pace as he r4pes your tight whore hole

he grips your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises, your titties flop around with each thrust

he removes one hand from your hip and starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past the gag

you’re so overstimulated, the line between pain and pleasure blurring

you feel your cunt fluttering around his cock, he does too

“that’s right squeeze my dick baby, you love being my cocksleeve, you love that i chose you to kidnap and to r4pe, eventually you’re going to be begging me to r4pe and breed your holes over and over again everyday”

his words disgust you but your body doesn’t care

you cum so hard you see stars

he pulls his dick all the way out and you scream around your gag, drool running all down your body by this point

he harshly grabs your jaw and forces you to look down at his dick covered in your cream, the proof of the orgasm you just had

“look how much my dirty fuck doll enjoyed being r4ped”

you clench around nothing, your pussy is gaping so much you don’t feel his cum leaking out of your abused hole

“now let’s see if we can use some of this cum to get into your tight ass, i want to see both fuck holes gaping by the end of the night”

#bimboification #bimbo training #use me pls #bimbo doll #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #corruption kink #daddy's good girl #dumbification #r4p3 kink #r4pepl4y #r4p3b4it #r4p3 fantasy #r4p3 m3 #send me threats #rough cnc #cnc kidnapping #cnc k!nk #nsft concept #c0cksleeve #c0ckslut #cvmdump #cvmslut #cr3ampie #wet and creamy #size k!nk #size difference

[moondirti]

there’s something so erotic about a man who grabs your jaw when you keep avoiding his gaze so he can force your eyes on his

featuring: SOAP, afab reader, oral, spitting, mild dubcon (i.e. boundary crossing)

soap has always been intense. a bullet shot off in a steel room, bound to ricochet until it makes contact with something that can absorb its impact. you're in the right place at the right time: a bar, the gym he frequents, perhaps even a football game he'd been anticipating for weeks. it doesn't really matter what context he first spots you in – all that energy, that orderless enthusiasm he seems to prescribe to everything, sharpens to focus solely on you. bonnie wee thing that keeps sliding him wily looks, instilling in him a mission he knows he won't back down from.

at first it's how to approach you. easy enough; you like him too, that much he can tell. so when you eventually agree to a farmers market date (where he intends to spoil you rotten with food from every stall), it becomes about opening you up. figuratively at first, you have a hard time keeping up with him without getting overwhelmed. startled at how forthcoming he is, stunned at the manner in which he treats you. like he's known you for years, a childhood best friend you only met last tuesday. he calls right after your first date, asks you to accompany him for coffee before his morning run. shows up at your door unannounced, carrying tools to fix the fan you briefly complained wasn't working. is bold enough to sneak his hand on your thigh while you're watching a movie later that evening, gradually moving higher as your breath begins to falter.

he spares no effort once things get sexual, either. if you expect him to go easy for your first time, you'll come to sorely regret the mistake. quick to slip out of his too-tight shirt, even quicker to spread your legs out on your couch. manages to get your joggers off but opts to merely shift your panties to the side, fingers hooked in the thin material (which he will pocket later). when he envelops your entire cunt with his mouth, his tongue digs into every fold, every hole if it means he can swallow down the smallest part of you.

taste s’good hen, bloody mad wae it

only you’re not looking at him. instead, you’ve thrown your head back, too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to the show he’s putting on for you. why exactly, he's not sure. he’s being good, isn’t he? giving you everything you need? his heart races a mile per minute and something needy, something dark twists within him. he laves his tongue over your hole once more, collecting the juices that pour for him and gathering it behind his teeth alongside a hefty glob of saliva.

when he moves up your body, he tucks your chin in his palm, pulling your head down to face him.

it's too much. too much. he doesn't seem to realise it, but you're breathing is still inconsistent and shallow, and you're about to cry from overstimulation. now he's forcing eye contact, nose kissing yours, and pressing down on either side of your jaw so you're forced to open your mouth wide. you know what's coming, see it from the way his cheeks move. it's all you can do to brace yourself for the inevitable, unable to voice your aversion to the kink. fisting your hands, tensing your throat. but it's as you close your eyes that his self-restraint snaps.

so, he spits. it's thick and messy and heady with the smell of your sex. he doesn't even aim it properly. a significant amount of it lands on your lip, some even on your nose. your tongue gets the brunt of it though, the new weight of fluid causing you to gag. yet his pupils are blown so wide they're barely blue anymore, a cerulean ring around bottomless black, fixated on the sloppy state of your mouth, and it's hard to deny him anything that boils him down to such a state. like a puppy. over-eager and exhilarated when you indulge him so.

you never learn to like it, though it becomes a routine thing.

#written on my phone and unedited #have some garbage or whatever #also applies to price because i can definetely imagine him forcing you still so he can blow cigar smoke onto your face #johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap #cod #call of duty #thirst #x afab reader

[aizenswhore]

Jealousy that drives them mad.

There is something about giving you oral, when you made them jealous, that will always tickle his pride. Watching you crumble under his touch, when his head is buried between your thighs, causes him an amount of satisfaction he would probably not be able to reach if your positions were reversed. He graspes one of your leg, draping it over his shoulder as you whimper and cry out his name, along with apologies from up above. He does not bother to reply, only sucking at your bundle of nerves and collecting your juices with his tongue. He laps at your core, ignoring everyone and everything, driving you to madness and exhaustion orgasm after orgasm.

Little do you know why he is torturing you like that, in the back of the bar you were clubbing at, where anyone could see you two in such a compromising position. He needs to punish you, he needs to show you that no one can go on his knees for you and make you beg him to stop for how good he is at overstimulating you.

He needs to make your standards higher in satisfaction so that no one will ever be able to gratify you like he does. He wants to ruin you for anyone else that might come after him.

But both him and you know one thing for sure: he is the only one for you.

GETO SUGURU, GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, AIZEN SOSUKE, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI, UZUI TENGEN, SHUNSUI KYORAKU, MADARA UCHIHA, URAHARA KISUKE, SHOTA AIZAWA, LEVI ACKERMAN, DRACULE MIHAWK, ZORO RORONOA and your faves.

credit for the banner: @cafekitsune

main account: @muzansfangs

#geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #aizen x reader #bleach smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #shunsui x reader #bleach x reader #mha x reader #demon slayer smut #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #madara smut #madara uchiha x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #nanami kento x reader #uzui x reader #urahara kisuke x reader #mihawk x reader #zoro x reader #one piece smut

[mncxbe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: pwp, needy/pervy? men, backseat activities, creampie, pet names, not proofread

the 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 who watch you from the distance, not daring to interact with you in any way. their life is messy, dangerous– violence and death leaving no space for love. and even if he could afford such mundane affections, an angel like you would never turn their gaze on them, right?

well, that's what he thought until you hit him up. walking up behind him and tapping his shoulder with the most innocent smile plastered on your pretty face. "Hey there, stranger. You look a little lost" it's all you say, your voice barely audible over the loud music and chatter in the bar. he thinks you look prettier up close and finds himself unable to reply with any witty or flirty remark. "Not really, it's just not a place I usually go to".

'stupid idiot–' it's all he can say to himself, the fear of coming across as uninterested and pushing you away rooted deep in his bones. but his comment only makes your smile widen. you lean in and he feels his cock straining his pants when you brush your fingertips against his thigh, moving them upwards, tempting him "Then why don't we go somewhere more comfortable for both of us?"

That's how you ended up in the backseat of his car with his hand cupping your panty clad ass "Please baby take 'em off for me, will you?" he pleads and you indulge him, sliding off the lace trimmed panties to grant him access to your cunt before climbing back on his lap.

It feels good, too good, the way you grind on his hand– his fingertips shoved snugly against your sweet spot, causing moans and mewls to spill from your glossy lips as your hands find his belt, skillfully unbuckling it. his cock slides inside you easily, stretching your gummy walls and fuck– you feel just like he imagined.

it doesn't take too long for the windows to fog up– not when he's messily bucking his hips to meet your grinds, panting like he'd just run a marathon. "that's it pretty girl just keep bouncing on me ah fuck— feels too good. y'er sqeezing me so tight–" he whines between shallow breaths, completely lost in the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. he never thought a man like him would ever reach heaven but there he is, buried deep inside your pretty little cunt.

he's not used to the pleasure, really, so it doesn't take him long to reach his high. an unfamiliar warmth pools in his core, making him feel dizzy. he closes his eyes and doesn't even realize that his hands are fiercely squeezing your hips– keeping you nice and steady as he ruts inside you, his leaking tip hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "fuck, fuck, fuck baby 'm close" he groans and it's like music to your ears.

the feeling is overwhelming, so many emotions swirling inside him all at once– it's like you dug deep inside his soul and opened Pandora's box. guilt, need, shame, bliss, adoration. if it weren't for the tears spilling from his eyes you wouldn't be aware of the effect you had on him.

you smile and gently wipe his tears away, placing little kisses on his cheeks as you cup his face with your hands, encouraging him to keep going "make yourself feel good for me, okay? you deserve it you're doing good. c'mon cum for me, handsome"

and he does— and it feels like heaven. his vision blurs as his cum spurts inside you, painting your gummy walls white. it takes him a while to regain his breath and composure, but even when his calm-and-collected mask is back on the grip on your hips doesn't falter. he keeps himself sheathed inside you as you lean against him, your combined juices leaking down to his base.

"so..." you eventually speak up, your face still buried in the crook of his neck. "you feeling better now?" he only hums for lack of a better response, kissing the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you flush against his chest. he can't bring himself to tell you he's afraid to let you go, that he wants to stay like this for one more minute– to indulge himself the pleasure and comfort of normality and intimacy. because in the end he's still a stranger to you. still... things may change between you and this luxury he rarely affords could become part of his routine– if you want that too. for now he can only hope for something more and let the rough edges of his soul soften up in your embrace.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀, 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎, 𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀, 𝐀𝐊𝐈, (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫) 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄 ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

#‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚drabbles #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai smut #chuya smut #chuuya bsd #akutagawa bsd #akutagawa smut #csm smut #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #csm aki #chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #kishibe x reader #kishibe smut #csm kishibe #jouno x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai

[holylulusworld]

Best Valentine ever

Summary: Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former!(any male character) x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, break-up, mentions/implied cheating, fluff, Bucky being the best, flirting, violence, blood

Valentine reloaded

That night Bucky couldn’t sleep. He watched you squirm on the bed until you turned in your sleep and snuggled in his chest. You murmured his name, making his chest swell. 

“He should’ve never left you, doll. How could that bastard leave a woman like you?”

“Hmm…” You rubbed your cheek into his chest.

“His loss, huh?” Bucky looked down at you on his chest and wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll never let you slip through my fingers.” He grinned. “I can’t believe I found a firecracker like you outside that awful bar.”

“Bucky,” you lifted your head to look up at him. “You should sleep too. Stop talking to yourself.”

“I wasn’t talking to myself. All I did was reminisce about the day we spent together,” he huffed. “Did you spy on me, doll? You know, that’s impolite.” Bucky ran his hand up and down your back. 

“You were talking in your sleep, Bucky,” you yawned and snuggled back into his chest. “You said something about firecrackers.”

He kissed the top of your head. “We can talk in the morning. You should sleep now. It was a long and exhausting day.”

Your eyes fluttered close as you listened to Bucky’s heartbeat. His warm hand caressed your back, making it easier for you to drift into sleep.

“Morning,” Bucky grinned when you walked inside your kitchen. “I didn’t know what you like so, I ordered breakfast for champions.”

“What is all of this?” You gasped. Bucky ordered croissants, French toast, muffins, pancakes, a collection of fresh fruits, and three sorts of freshly pressed juices. “That’s enough for twenty people.” 

“I had hoped you’re hungry, doll,” he said and pulled a chair for you. “I have something planned for us. Only if you want to spend the day with me.”

“I have the rest of the week off,” you bit your tongue, and shook your head. “I took a few days off to…”

“I get it,” he gently squeezed your shoulder. “I highly recommend the French toast and pancakes. But you can eat whatever your heart desires.”

“You’re not married or taken, right?” You suddenly asked. “Shoot, I should’ve asked you so before I spent the night with you.”

“Doll, I’m not the kind of man going out with a lovely woman while having a girl at home,” Bucky sounded a little hurt at your question. “I swear, I’d never cheat on my girl.” He kissed your cheek. “We are not all assholes.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry,” you immediately said. “I didn’t want to accuse you of being a cheater. It’s just that you seem to be an alright guy and I wonder why you aren’t married yet.”

“An alright guy,” Bucky pressed one hand to his heart. “Only an alright guy?” He hiccupped. “I thought that I impressed you.”

“Bucky, you know that you impressed me,” you winked at Bucky. “A man like you knows how to impress a woman. You have the perfect eyes, and the smile, and know how to make a woman feel comfortable and safe.”

“How about I impress you some more and we go for dinner at your favorite restaurant? I reserved a table for two.” He hopefully looked at you. “If you don’t want to, I understand.”

“I’d love to,” you hastily said. Honestly, you didn’t want to be alone. Bucky was more than a nice distraction. “I’ll pay this time.”

“Y/N, you will soon find out that if I invite a lady for dinner, I’ll pay,” Bucky sat across the table and grabbed a croissant. “Always.”

“What if I eat the whole menu?” You smirked at Bucky. “You know, I’m a hungry lady and just got my heart broken. I’ll need lots of ice cream and sweets.”

“You should know by now that I love watching you eat.” He smirked and took a large bite of the croissant. 

You and Bucky spent the rest of the day removing the remnants of your former fiancé. He forgot a few clothes and nick-nacks you stuffed into a box.

And of course, there were still pictures of him and you in the picture frames staring at you like they wanted to mock you. 

“All done?” Bucky looked at the box you placed next to the door. “Can I get rid of it now or do you want to give it back?”

“I’ll throw it all away,” you shrugged. “It’s not my problem he forgot half of his shit. This happens when you only think with your downstairs brain half of the time.”

Bucky laughed before picking the box up. “I’ll throw it away for you, doll.” He watches your lips wobble. “I should be on my way and get fresh clothes, but I’ll be back soon. If I want to go out with you, I’ll need a new suit.”

True to his words, Bucky came back only two hours later. He wore a new dark-blue suit, and this irresistible smile when he knocked at your door.

Much to your surprise he offered a bouquet of daisies to you. He didn’t tell you that he picked the daisies for you on his way to your apartment. 

“I love daisies,” you smiled wildly. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“They made me think of you,” he softly said. “I saw the daisies on your pillows, and the picture on the wall.”

“I like them…a lot,” you grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “I like you too…a lot.”

“I like you a lot too, doll,” he held your hand for a while, looking you deep in the eyes. “Do you want to go for dinner with me, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’d love to join you for dinner, Mr. Barnes.”

“A table for two,” Bucky said to the hostess. “I reserved for James Buchanan Barnes.”

You watched the woman blanch at the mention of Bucky’s name. She nodded slowly and looked at her boss. “This—way.” She stammered, and you wondered why she looked scared out of a sudden.

She guided you and Bucky toward the best table at the restaurant.

“This is your favorite restaurant?” Bucky placed his hand on the small of your back and whispered in your ear. “I like it, doll.”

“It has the best Italian food,” you said and smiled softly. “I discovered it shortly after I moved to town.”

Again, Bucky pulled the chair for you. He didn’t know how nice it was to you that for once, someone did more than the bare minimum. “It’s nice.”

You smiled, and your heart fluttered. You felt comfortable around Bucky and couldn’t imagine spending the night with someone else.

“Do you want to spend the weekend at my house?” Bucky asked, watching you think about his offer. 

He was still a stranger to you, but you weren’t afraid of him or scared that he’d ever hurt you. Bucky’s eyes softened when you struggled to find an answer. “Sorry, doll. I shouldn’t have asked. I know we are still strangers.”

“No…we are friends,” you hastily said. “Right? We are friends, and I’d love to spend more time with you. You know so much about me already, and I barely know anything about you.”

He nodded slowly, eyes drifting toward someone behind your back. His features darkened, and he squared his jaw. Bucky inhaled sharply as the man breaking your heart stepped toward your table to stop right in front of your seat.

“I see you moved on very quickly,” your ex-fiancé sneered at you. “If only I knew you’re a slut.”

“If your ex is a loser like you, it’s easy to get over him,” you coolly replied, the voice never wavering. “You see, I moved on to someone better than you. As you said,” you smirked darkly. “I love him because I don’t love you anymore.”

“You fucking bitc—” your ex couldn’t finish his line. He was busy spitting blood and three of his teeth onto the floor. 

Faster than you could blink Bucky raised to his feet and punched your ex’s face. He watched his opponent fall to his knees, his fist bloody and his face hard.

“Never dare to even look my girl’s way. If you say her name, you are dead,” Bucky cocked his head to nod at someone storming inside the restaurant. “Sam, Steve, I want you to take care of this piece of shit.”

“Bucky,” you swallowed thickly watching the men grab your ex-fiancé to drag him out of the restaurant. “You hit him…for me.”

“Sure did,” he shrugged. “I defend what’s mine.” Bucky's features softened seeing the surprise and a hint of fear in your eyes. “Sorry. I usually don’t get violent on dates.”

“You hit him…for me,” you repeated. “No one ever did such a thing for me!” You jumped up to wrap Bucky in a hug. 

“Doll?” He wondered aloud. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re not a normal guy, right?” You glanced up at Bucky. “Your friends wore guns under their jackets and…people looked scared when you said your name.”

“Uh-I think we should talk about a few things, Y/N.”

“Bucky, are you a gangster?” You looked him straight in the eyes.

“Something like that…” He tried to avert your gaze. “What gave me away?”

“The way you carry yourself, and the gun hidden under your jacket,” you smirked. “I know it was a gun I felt when we first hugged.”

“Does this change things between us?”

“No,” hiding your face in his chest you sighed. “I don’t care about your profession, Bucky. From the first moment on, you cared for me.”

“So…can we still have this date now?”

“We will have one hell of a date, Mr. Barnes…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #mobster!bucky barnes #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #female reader #mafia au #Best Valentine ever

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

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[letsquestjess]

To Be Held (Crosshair x GN!Reader)

Summary: Crosshair struggles with the tremor in his hand, but you are there to comfort him.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Brief descriptions of nightmares and depression. Contains some spoilers for season 3!

-- -- -- -- --

You rounded the kitchen with a tune on your lips, collecting packets and paper bags and arranging the fresh produce onto the chopping board. A potato rolled from the pile, bouncing off the outstretched elbow you extended in an attempt to slow it. As it tumbled from the worktop, a hand darted out. 

“Nice catch,” you said to Crosshair as he straightened and picked out a few other vegetables from the hefty bundle. 

“I can help get these chopped up,” he offered, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Although I have to ask, are you trying to feed the entire island?”

“Just your brothers,” you returned.  

The sniper chuckled to himself, lips curving into an endearing grin. He and his brothers had grown up on a diet consisting mostly of ration bars, protein drinks, and whatever meagre soups and over-baked breads the cafeteria served. Upon arriving on the picturesque island, the sheer variety of food options available had daunted him, but the more he tasted, the more he acclimated to the distinct tastes and innovative pairings. 

It was how he had met you. Market days on Pabu were an island-wide event, and Wrecker, ever eager to delve deeper into the culinary arts, dragged him along. His excuses ranged from wanting to experiment with new seasonings to needing help with meal planning, but he eventually admitted he just wanted to spend time with him. From that moment on, Crosshair attended every week without fail. 

Some months into their visits, you bumped into each other. Quite literally. After steadying the overflowing bags in your arms and assuring him you were unharmed, you both exchanged sheepish smiles and apologies, and parted ways. He saw you again the week after, and the week after that, your eyes meeting in silent recognition, until Omega intervened and nudged her brother to approach you. 

The thought of your first encounter comforted him, immersing him in a daydream that shattered the instant his hand began to tremor. He grumbled and clenched his fists, resolved to shove the annoyance aside and focus on assisting you with dinner. 

But you noticed. You picked up the irritated huff and the flex of his fist. “Are you all right?” you asked, setting down the knife and scooping the chopped vegetables into the simmering pan of water. His silence hung heavy, and you stopped what you were doing. “Cross?” 

“I’m fine,” he replied, gruffer than he intended. Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, he refocused and carried on slicing the washed potatoes into chunks. 

Over the last few weeks, you had observed a subtle tremor in his hand and a faraway expression. It never lasted for more than a few minutes, but you sensed he was confined in that desolate cell once more, on that unrelenting experiment table. He had spent countless months trying to regain control, confronting his past rather than avoiding it. 

The risk of a relapse always remained, but you wished he wouldn’t endure them in silence and solitude. Omega’s meditations had offered a small reprieve, and the therapy he stuck at untangled the knotted vines in his head, allowing him to process his thoughts. But it was getting to him again, wriggling its way back in like an insidious vibroblade slicing into a disintegrating shield, smashing the defences he had fought so hard to maintain. 

As he brought the knife down, the blade grazed dangerously close to his finger. He jerked away and hissed a curse. 

“Okay,” you said with a gentle but resolute edge, taking control before the situation overwhelmed him further. “Sit down.”

“Dinner needs doing,” he insisted. 

“It can wait. Sit, love, please.” 

Reluctantly, the sniper snatched a dining chair and sank into the plush, patterned cushion tied to the back bars. 

After wiping the vegetable juices from your palms on a dishcloth, you brought his hands to your chest and pressed firmly, grounding him in the present and to you. “Can you feel the rhythm of my heart?” you asked. 

Crosshair nodded, wearied gaze lifting to meet yours. “Yes.”

“Close your eyes. That’s it. Concentrate on your breaths.” 

Within a few rounds of deep inhales and slow exhales, the trembles relaxed. You squeezed his hands, thumbs caressing the dry, calloused skin on his fingers. 

“I am so proud of you,” you said, softly, patiently. “You have fought to be where you are, Cross, and you never gave up. No matter how challenging it became, or the obstacles that stood in your path, you persevered. If only you could see yourself how others see you, you would understand how brave, and caring, and dedicated you are.” 

His eyes blinked open, and a subtle smile reappeared. “You missed ‘stubborn’ off that list.”

“How could I forget?” you chuckled.

He brought your closer by your hips and settled his cheek on your stomach. You were warm. Familiar. When the shadows crept in, you emerged as a shining beacon, restoring his sense of self and holding aloft that steadfast belief in him. Despite no longer being controlled by the Empire or serving in the army, the fear of relapsing haunted him, and he dreaded he would become that again. Cold and cruel to those he loved, and alone for the rest of his days.

“If you needed more therapy, or wanted to try something else, I am right here with you,” you told him, stroking the thick, silvery tufts he had been growing out. “Whatever you need.” 

Expressing himself had never come naturally to Crosshair. He attempted to reach out to his siblings after Tantiss, and in time you. In his mind, he recognised the intensity of his emotions, the words he longed to express, but he couldn’t get them past his mouth. It required an immense amount of effort for him to let his guard down, and in moments like these, when he wanted to vanish into some secluded corner, it became even harder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your stomach, his grip tightening as if you might slip away. “I just feel so…” 

Sacred. Frightened. Weak. You knew how that sentence ended. You’d heard it often enough on the nights he woke doused in sweat and hauling in trembling breaths, grasping for anything to bolster him in his safe reality. 

“It will all be okay,” you soothed, cradling him to you. “You are not alone. You have me, and your siblings, and an island of people here who cherish and appreciate you. We love you more than you know, and we will do whatever it takes to get you the support you need.”

“Right now,” he muttered, “I only need to hold you.” He nuzzled closer, burying himself in the solacing lift and fall of your stomach and the steady tempo of your heart. Each beat called out to him, and he eagerly listened. 

“I suppose I could allow that for a little longer,” you said brightly as he gazed up at you, the tattoo around his eye crinkling with a tired but hopeful smile. 

There were difficult times ahead, more nightmares, more lapses, more quiet in which his mind returned him to those days as a captive of the Empire. But through it all, he remained hopeful, and that was all you ever needed him to be. 

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[freelancearsonist]

salt, shot, lime

➔ Dieter Bravo x afab!Reader

➔ 2.3k words

➔ You meet your celebrity crush in a bar; he turns out to be a lot more fun than you expected.

➔ Rated MA for protected p in v, public sex acts/public nudity (they fuck in a bar y’all), body shots/alcohol consumption, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart) // reader has female anatomy (afab - no pronouns used), wears a bra, is generally able-bodied but is otherwise a blank slate.

“Go on. Don’t be shy.”

Your fingers work slowly at the buttons of your blouse, so readily and eagerly baring yourself to this man who–for all intents and purposes–is a complete stranger.

He’s familiar, though; to you, not the other way around. Dieter Bravo lives very publicly, after all. You follow him on Instagram and Twitter; you see bits and pieces of his life throughout yours. When he approached you at the bar, he had no clue who you were. But you knew him.

And now he’s eyeing you over the rims of his sepia-lensed sunglasses, ringed fingers idly tracing the rim of the empty shot glass that sits on the counter next to him. He looks at you like he wants to know you, and that’s exactly why you’re in this position.

This is crazy. This shouldn’t be happening at all. But he’s hot, and he’s interested in you. And you’re not nearly drunk enough to not understand the risks and consequences associated.

You can see the gulp that traces down his throat as you set your shirt on the counter and it gives you the willpower you need to keep from crossing your arms over your chest to cover yourself. Dieter fucking Bravo is effected just from this simple view of you in your cute yet simple bra, and it’s the headiest confidence boost you’ve ever received.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” His voice is breathless, lips parted in awe. “Fuck.”

The bartender clearing his throat and setting down a tray next to Dieter’s right hand is enough to snap the actor out of his dazed reverie. Dieter clears his throat and wrenches his eyes away from your half-naked torso, scanning the contents of the tray before humming his satisfaction.

“Ready, honey?” He asks, and you hum your approval as you lean back over the bar.

This is the first time you’ve done this, and you don’t think Dieter follows standard protocol. Or maybe he does—it’s not like you would really know, this isn’t your typical Saturday night activity—but there’s hardly anything that can be called standard about the way his wet tongue laves quickly and wetly over your sternum to give the salt something to stick to. Just that little bit of contact is enough to make you squirm, and it takes every out of restraint you possess to sit still for him as he pours the shot into the dip of your belly button.

It’s messy and sticky and not very comfortable, especially when you position the lime between your lips, but you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

He gives you a look—dark and pleading—and you take a deep, aroused breath as you nod your consent.

Again, his tongue is between your breasts, but this time it’s languid. He takes his time and flattens the length of the muscle against your skin to collect every last grain of salt.

Then he purses his lips and slurps the tequila from your belly button—but really, all you can focus on in the moment is the weight of his hand resting dangerously high on your thigh under the guise of steadying himself. His fingertips are so close yet so achingly far from where you’re wettest, and the smirk on his face says he knows it.

Finally, after a moment that seems to last at least three years, he moves up your body and bites into the lime waiting between your lips.

With him this close you can smell the heady, woodsy scent of his cologne, and it only serves to turn you on further as he sucks the juice from the tart fruit.

The way he takes the lime from you with his teeth and spits it out on the countertop should be a crime but you really can’t be fucked about it because suddenly he’s kissing you. You could isolate all three flavors on his tongue if you cared to, but you don’t in the slightest. All you can really focus on is those hands as they slide up your sides and come to rest at the base of your skull, thumbs swiping simultaneously over your cheeks to anchor you while he licks deeper into your mouth.

The cocky bastard actually smirks against your lips when you moan. The sound is soft but it only serves to motivate him; he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth like he’s trying to lick your molars as your hands wind around his neck to tug him closer to you.

And then, just as suddenly as he started kissing you, he pulls away.

“Your turn, sweetheart.” There’s just a faint little smirk to his lips, but it’s enough to make you want to smack him. It’s also enough to make you want to suck him so deep into your throat that he never fully recovers.

And fuck, you really want to tell him fuck it and ask if he wants to get out of here, but you also want to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You nod to the bartender, who sets down another shot for you. And then you nod to Dieter’s chest, and he starts tugging his baggy shirt over his head without a word.

He’s pretty. You’ve always admired his physique, sure, but it’s even better in person. There’s an unkempt quality to the smattering of hair on his lower stomach, and the soft curve of his belly has you eager to get your hands on him.

You haven’t even gotten your shot yet, but you’re hoping and praying that he’ll want to drag you into the bathroom to have his way with you after this.

He leans back and lets you prep him–smiling slightly at how careful and neat you are about laying the salt and pouring the shot. There’s a tender reverence in your touch that makes his heart pound in a way it hasn’t in years.

“You good?” You ask, looking into his dark eyes when he takes off his sunglasses, neatly folds them, and sets them on the bar.

You watch his throat bob around a thick swallow, and then he nods; and you can’t help the sick satisfaction you feel over how breathless he already is. Too easy.

You make a point of dragging your nails over his treasure trail, under the guise of steadying yourself, as you lick the salt from his firm chest. You spend a little more time there than strictly necessary; but you want to get him clean, after all. And if your tongue trails off course to drag over a taut nipple–

“Oh, fuck!” His voice is muffled from the lime wedge perched between his lips; he’s so sensitive that his hips actually jolt at your ministration, but your hand on his lower belly steadies him to assure his shot isn’t wasted. “Baby that’s not fair–”

His protest is breathy and trails off into a useless little whine when you move down to suck the tequila from his belly button. You can actually see the way his cock springs to life under his trousers in your peripheral vision, and you think you deserve an award. A big world cup-style trophy, with an inscription that reads “I made Dieter Bravo hard just from licking his fucking belly button”.

He spits the lime out before you even get a chance to taste it, but that’s okay because you’d rather taste him anyway.

His grip is firm as he cups your face in his big, meaty hands and pulls your lips to his. There’s a desperation to this kiss–a frantic meeting of lips and tongue and teeth as he tries to pull you closer to him than it’s physically possible to be. And you let him, let him take everything you so desperately want in return as you feel the scratch of his beard against your chin and the firm grip of his hands guiding the angle of your head.

“W-we should… take this somewhere more private,” you pant when you finally muster the courage to pull back for air.

He shakes his head, and you feel a twist of disappointment in your gut. But then he looks over your shoulder; you hear a deep, guttural voice–and before you know it, the entire bar is empty. Not a soul in sight, not even the bartender

“This private enough for you, honey?”

You nod dumbly, still kind of starstruck over such a powerful display of the way the entire world dances to Dieter Bravo’s tune.

He pulls you in for another deep kiss, this time backing you up into the bar counter. You can feel the insistent press of his arousal against your hip like this, and it makes you moan needily into his open mouth.

“Wanna fuck you,” he murmurs into his mouth, rolling his hips against you in a way that makes you moan again. “Please baby, lemme fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” you murmur back with a nod.

You’re definitely not normally the type that would strip down completely in the middle of a bar to fuck some man you just met, but there’s something about him that has you disregarding all common decency to toss aside your bra and wiggle out of your jeans so he can see every inch of your exposed skin.

It’s all worth it for the pleased moan he makes when he takes you in with his eyes, hungrily eating up miles and miles of flesh that he wants to touch and kiss and appreciate. But there’s not enough time, not here; so he lifts you up sideways onto the bar like you’re weightless and then presses you to lay down flat against the counter top, completely ignoring the sticky glass-sweat rings that press little cold patches into your flesh.

You get a good view of him as he loses the rest of his clothes, flinging them to the corners of the room with a ferocity that makes you giggle. The sound brings a smile to his face, too; and then he jumps up onto the sturdy bar counter with you, spreading your legs with eager hands so he can slot his hips between yours as he continues to kiss you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he grumbles as he shamelessly ruts his hard cock against your wetness–his voice is so deep it’s almost gravelly. And then he produces a little foil packet from seemingly thin air and winks at you like a hammy cartoon character. “Safety first.”

He’s so silly it’s sexy, and he laughs with you as he presses his lips back to yours. He fumbles a little bit as he tries to roll the condom onto his impressive length while simultaneously kissing you, so you reach down with steady hands to help him; he whimpers at the way you take his girth into your hands and so easily sheathe him.

“M’not gonna last long,” he whispers as he lines up with your entrance, and you’re surprised he can’t actually feel the way it makes your cunt sob with arousal.

“That’s okay,” you reassure, one hand coming to tug firmly at the curls that compose the nape of his neck. “Just make it good.”

He nods, gently bites at your lower lip, and then he thrusts into you smoothly all the way to the hilt.

There’s a bit of a stretch to accommodate him and it makes you moan; the feeling of your tight heat sends a physical shudder down his spine.

“Oh, fuck–” he scoots his knees up further towards your ass, shoving himself as deep as he can get while simultaneously trying to let you adjust to his sudden intrusion. “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good–”

You feel the slight scrape of his thick curls against your clit, and it yanks a desperate little moan from your lips. “Move, Dieter, fuck me–”

He’s nothing if not obedient. The first needy little thrust is hard enough to jolt your entire body–he scoops a hand under your head to soften the blow, and then he starts moving with reckless abandon.

It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s desperate. He thrusts hard and deep into your soaked core, mouthing uselessly at your mouth and jaw, whimpering with each rut of his hips. He watches your face when he can actually keep his eyes open and finds the exact spot that makes you writhe and squirm underneath him, angling his hips to hit it with relentless accuracy.

He looks pussydrunk, it’s the only way to describe the expression created by his glassy eyes and his parted lips. He nuzzles his face in between your tits and looks up at you like you created the moon and the stars, like you’re something to revere. You’re scared that if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re going to fall in love with him.

“I’m close, Dieter…” you warn, the hand that's not clutching desperately at his messy hair reaching down to put your favorite kind of pressure on your clit.

He tilts his head down and watches to the best of his ability, making mental note of exactly how you like to be worked over–storing that information away for next time. He so desperately wants there to be a next time.

He feels it a second before you do and angles his hips just right to hit that toe-curlingly pleasurable spot right as you come. It sends you sky high, the way he pounds mercilessly into you while the pleasure ebbs and flows over you.

He comes hardly a minute later, grunting and whining and cursing under his breath as his balls draw up and he empties himself into the condom, shoved as deep inside you as he can physically get.

There’s a long, heavy moment of silence as you both pant and try to come down from the clouds. He scatters little feather-light kisses over your sweat-slicked chest, and then he looks up at you with those big brown puppy eyes you’re starting to adore.

“You wanna grab dinner?” He’s so earnest in asking, like he’s not balls-deep in your cunt right now.

It’s so ass-backwards that you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up your throat, but you don’t consider any other answer than, “Yeah, sure.”

It’s worth it just to see the smile that lights up his face. “Amazing.”

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[thepenultimateword]

Sugar and Spice

Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.

He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."

Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"

"Excuse me?"

He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."

"You're department is doing what you're told."

"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"

Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."

Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."

Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."

Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.

Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.

That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?

Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.

Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.

Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.

First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.

He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.

He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."

Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.

Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"

The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.

"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.

"You're a henchman, right?" she said.

"Um...yes?"

Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."

Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.

She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.

Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."

Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."

Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"

Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.

"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."

"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.

"Not anymore."

"But Supervillain--"

"Has different orders."

Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?

"Yep."

"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"

"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."

"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"

Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."

"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"

"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."

Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"

"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."

Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.

"Ok."

Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.

Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.

He yawned widely.

What sort of things...did Villain...like...?

Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.

"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.

Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.

"I'm sorry!"

Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."

"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.

Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."

"This is our safe house?"

"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."

Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.

Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.

Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?

The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.

Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.

As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"

Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"

"You're support; you need to keep watch."

"For what?"

"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.

Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"

Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”

“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."

Villain sighed. "What?"

"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”

“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.

“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”

Villain shot upright. “What?”

“Combat isn’t my speciality.”

“But you’re a combat henchman!”

Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”

"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”

"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”

“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”

“Villain?”

She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"

Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."

Part Two

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[exquisiteserotonin]

In the Velvet Light

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader, Marc Spector X F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: After you get off work early, you visit your boyfriend Steven, then Marc at the museum, with intention of asking him for an interesting but important request concerning your relationship

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some Spanish, dirty talk, oral sex, somewhat dubcon (if you squint), polyamory (if you squint) knife play, cunnilingus, and a lot of other things that I want to put but I don't want to put in here bc I don't want to ruin the story...just know there are very explicit adult things that happen here OK?

A/N: This is my very first Moon Knight fic and Oscar Isaac character fic. I know I have kept it to Pedro up to this point, but I definitely wanted to branch out. Hope you all love it.

And as always, so much love to my magical sluts @redhotkitchen @imalrightllama @blueheat1-blog @basicoccult @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @arcanefox207

In the Velvet Light

If there were any place in the world that whispered the word peace it would be museums. This was a universal truth, no one could convince you otherwise. The cleanliness, the quiet, the vast spaces, and the tiny corners gathered all in one massive space where no one dared intrude upon the reflections taking root and growing in your brain. It didn’t matter what type of museum: art, science, history. They all gave you the perfect place to let brilliant ideas percolate.

The loud, hydraulic hiss of the bus echoed to the ears of all the passengers as rolled to a stop at the British Museum. It was a stop for locals and tourists alike and today it was yours as well. The sound and smell of the rain on the pavement greeted you as the doors of the bus opened. A breath of excited anxiety escaped you. The way that the raindrops splashed on the growing rain puddles mirrored the way your heart was beating quickly in your chest. 

The majesty of the foyer and everything in it always reminded you of how much bigger and older the world really was. You walked amongst the other visitors, several smiling faces from the staff greeted you in friendly recognition. 

“How are you today, love?” said a tall, burly security guard with the warmest smile. 

You kissed him on either side of his brown, jovial cheeks. 

“Hello Ollie, doing well today?”

“Always, love,” every word from his mouth seemed to float out full of kindness, “meeting Steven a little early today?”

A knot formed in your stomach at the question. You would meet Steven for work occasionally, just to surprise him. Today was different, you felt in every part of your body. From the moment you woke up to this moment, you’d been nervous about meeting him today. With a nod and a smile, you answered Ollie’s question and left a tiny skip in your step.

Before losing yourself in the museum, you found a moment to freshen up in the bathroom. It was quiet and dark, nearly the exact opposite of the brightness and bustle of the Great Court. You stood in front of the sink and pulled out your lipstick from your purse. A twist of the tube revealed a vivid red, a color you normally wouldn’t have chosen for yourself. As you smoothed the rich color over your lips, you kept your eyes on your reflection in the triptych style mirror. You looked from left, right, and then back to center, marveling at how different you could look in such a deep color.

I wonder if he will notice. You thought to yourself as you combed your fingers through your hair.

The black hue of your boots stood in stark contrast to the pristine white floors and walls of the court. The rain-kissed sunlight filtered through the tessellating roof, casting warm and shifting shadows on your face, neck, and shoulders. You twirled around, letting the prismatic light bathe you and your pirouetting shadow, helping you to briefly forget the feeling of excited anxiety that continued to settle in the pit of your stomach. You began to draw, doodle, and write whatever came to you, letting it flow from your veins, through the pen, and onto the paper. You laughed at the three cute little doodles you made of your boyfriend. 

Nonsense. You murmured silently in your head. 

The afternoon moved and with it the sunlight filtered through the roof. You followed the golden beams, like you were skipping through a creek trying to find the sunbeams hiding in the shadows cast by leaves on a tree. The little game you made to pass the time had you so engrossed that you didn’t even notice Steven standing in a single beam of sunlight that broke through the glass roof. You couldn’t help but smile seeing him, something about his face. The way his eyes were so bright and open and full of wonder at everything. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping in an embrace full of warmth and love. You squeezed him tightly as he held you, leaning your head closely to the side of his face, nuzzling your nose into his neck and into the soft curls of his black hair. He sensed something. You knew it in the way his long fingers slowly caressed the sides of your waist as he unraveled you from his embrace. His fingers moved lovingly up your arms, until they laced themselves in your waves while his palms cupped your face. 

“Did I ever tell you that I have the best girlfriend ever?” he said very matter-of-factly as the pads of his thumbs caressed the sides of your face. 

“Oh my god, I had no idea!” You teased, pulling him by the lapel of his jacket. “Who is she?!” 

“I don’t know, but she’s certainly never tempted me with this shade of red before,” he said, bringing gentle fingers to your chin just below your pout.

He scrunched his nose as the most charming grin situated itself on his face before he moved in to kiss you. It was so difficult to explain, but that little crinkle of his nose was something you found so endearingly irresistible about him. The gesture was so perfectly Steven and so perfectly kissable. 

“I also know,” he said as he intertwined his fingers in yours as you walked towards the exit of the museum, “that you’re definitely keeping something from me.”  

A secretive silence took over you as the sunlight began to wane over the glass rooftop. When he turned to you again, the beams of light waxed and waned with kaleidoscopic triangles of light and dark illuminated his chiseled face. With a light cough, you cleared your throat, a small feeling of guilt settling over your chest. There was no use in hiding things from him, considering your unique situation.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You insisted as you walked outside, your steps rippling your reflections in the puddles the rain left behind. “You know I don’t keep things from you.”

“Not intentionally, no,” he said as his expression suddenly turned to confusion as you continued towards the crosswalk. “Wait, sweetheart, why’re we crossing the street? 

Turning to him, you smoothed the wrinkles in his jacket and kissed him, wiping your thumb along his lips where yours had left their mark. He sucked a deep inhale into his chest, and you could see the small glimmer of yearning shine in his eyes. The rain had stopped enough to let the sunset work her magic on his olive skin, highlighting it with warm colors of gold and coral. 

“Come home with me tonight,” you whispered as your lips parted from his. 

A combination of excitement and trepidation filled the lines around his expressive brown eyes. It wasn’t about sex, you knew that. You had already taken that much needed step in your relationship. Sex was far from being a problem in your relationship. No, you know from how his eyes hollowed in fear that this was something much more. 

“Oh, love,” he said letting go of your hands to wring his nervously, “aren’t you worried about---”

You wrapped your hands in his to alleviate some of the anxiety that lived in his shaking hands. 

“Steven,” you said, keeping a steady gaze on him, “you trust me, right?”

The inner corner of his eyebrows raised up as he nodded in earnest. It was difficult for him not to hang on to every word that left your mouth. Keeping his hand in yours, you crossed the street just as a bus stopped, ready for you to embark. You led Steven towards the middle of the bus, finding two empty seats. Steven gestured for you to take a seat first. When he sat next to you, you hooked your arm under his, your hand finding its way back to hold his. He leaned towards you, turning to give your forehead a kiss before you rested your head on his shoulder. 

Your eyes turned to look out the window, watching as the remaining raindrops trickled down the window. The dusky sunlight reflected off them like liquid gold. 

“Why do you have such a hard time opening up to him?” The sound of a subtle New York accented voice, pressed lightly against your forehead. 

In the window, you glanced at the reflection of your boyfriend’s face. His thick brows were lower, his eyes narrowed with greater focus, and his jaw and neck muscles were taut with stoicism. 

“Marc?” you inquired, still not used to how quickly he could appear without warning. 

He pulled you in with his gaze. It was one of concern, but in a different way from Steven’s. When he looked at you with that furrowed brow and discerning expression in his eyes, it was easy for you to see that he understood without words the feelings you were going through. A small, but grateful and earnest smile grew on your lips before you gave him a kiss. He didn’t melt quite the same way Steven did, but you could tell from the gentle caresses on your fingertips that he was letting himself relax. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit unfair to be talking to me about stuff that bothers you and not him?” Marc asked. 

“Marc, it’s not like he doesn’t find out anywa---,” you started, but Marc was so quick to interject. 

“Nah, no it doesn’t work that way, sweetheart,” he insisted while shaking his head at you. 

You took note of his words and lingered on ‘sweetheart.’ It was one of the terms of endearment that both Steven and Marc shared for you. You could never explain to anyone how your relationship (or was it relationships?) worked. You were in love with more than one man who shared the same face and the same body, but with distinctive personalities, distinctive lives. When you wondered how you’d introduce your friends or your family to him, telling them the truth was the worst possible option. 

Ok, friends, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, well boyfriends, really. He has, they have Dissociative Identity Disorder. 

No, that wouldn’t work at all. 

“I’ve just been anxious,” you explained to Marc, expressing all that floated in your head in the least number of words possible. “We’ve been together for a while now and it always feels like I’m having to navigate something new.”  

You caught Marc briefly looking at the window. 

“He’s listening, isn’t he?” You asked. 

Marc nodded with a raised brow and a shrug of his shoulders. The gesture told you that Steven “listening in” on your conversation was inevitable.

“Look, you don’t need to be scared about telling us anything, everything even,” Marc assured you with a gentle squeeze and massage of your thigh. 

It was unexpected and sent shivers up your core, reminding you of why you were so anxious in the first place. Another glimpse of Marc looking in the window caught your eye. You wondered what knowing glances they shared with one other. What did each of those glances mean when they were clearly shared about you? 

“I know, you’re right,” you acknowledged. 

“So, tell me, tell us,” Marc uttered before giving you a gentle kiss, “we’ve got a long ride home.”  

The long, stop-and-go bus ride was tolerable because you had Marc with you. When you arrived at your bus stop, you felt Marc’s fingers tighten in yours. Each step that you both took echoed on the cobblestone streets that led to your flat. And with each step that you took, Marc’s hand squeezed yours harder, an unspoken indication of his growing anxiety. Marc dug his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath as you unlocked your door. Before you walked in, you took his face gently in your hands. You looked deep into his eyes, searching for every part of him in those glossy brown globes of his. 

“Do you trust me?” You asked the same question you asked Steven. 

He rested your forehead against yours and nodded, kissing the inside of your palms. 

He followed you up the short set of stairs to your inside door. You flipped on the wall switch, filling your living room with warm light. Marc walked around your flat, taking note of the decor, a mix of mid-century, bohemian, and Scandinavian. A smile spread on his face with the thought that all of it was so perfectly you. 

“Make yourself at home,” you whispered softly in his ear, “I’ll be right back.”

Everything in your bedroom was perfect just as you had planned it to be. The terracotta-colored bed sheets were freshly washed. The lamps on your nightstand gave off a dim but romantic glow better than any overhead light could. You had even cleaned the circular mirror that hung over your dresser and the large arched, floor length mirror that rested against the opposite wall. Before you returned to Marc, you undressed from your work clothes and put on a purple, gauzy and lace chemise, paired with a slinky lace thong, with a deep teal kimono over it. You looked at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers through your waves and putting on a sheer gloss over your red lips. You understood, all of this didn’t make any sense. You knew he’d be ripping it off you in a matter of minutes, but he’d never been to your home. This was going to be something you made sure you would remember. 

You watched as Marc awkwardly walked around your small living room, pacing around wondering if he should sit or remain standing. It was almost Steven-like. As you glided back to him, he stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by the vision of you. 

“So, this is what you were hiding?” Marc growled, as he admired you, grabbing you by the ass and pulling you towards him. “Don’t think Steven will be too upset about it as long as he gets a turn.” 

Marc pulled you into him, rubbing his hands up and down the light, lacy fabric until he grabbed your ass again with his large hands. With his right hand, he grabbed the supple muscle of your thigh and lifted it to his waist. Keeping your hands on his face you kissed him fervently, sucking on his bottom lip until you were pulling it gently with your teeth. 

“Quiero hablar con Jake,” you stated with conviction as you ran your fingers through Marc’s dark curls. 

Suddenly, he stopped and backed away from you, his brow knitted together in disbelief, “You have no idea what you’re asking me.” 

“Yes, baby, I do,” you assured, pulling him to you again as walked backwards to your bedroom. 

Marc stood before you, his eyes dark with disappointment and anger. You let your kimono drop to the floor and moved to him, bringing your face close to his. He took a strong, commanding grip on your wrists when you tried to push his open button-up shirt away from his shoulders. 

“What do you think this is some kind of joke?” Marc snarled through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea what he’s capable of?”

“Marc, you and Steven said you trusted me,” you said as you planted kisses on his neck and jaw. “It’s been hard, but you’ve told me that I should trust you and be open with both of you, all of you---why should Jake be any different?

“No, not up for discussion,” Marc shook his head. 

You pressed your forehead to his and moved your right hand up his chest and then to his face. You eased him into a gentle kiss, slipping your tongue until he was weak in the knees. 

“Let me talk to Jake,” you requested again, gripping his face tighter with your hands. 

Marc looked at you resolutely to protect you from what he perceived as dangerous. 

“You owe me this, Marc,” you affirmed through gritted teeth. 

“Then you’d have to make me,” Marc growled, bringing his face as close to yours without touching it.

His breath was hot and touched your painted lips with angry disappointment. Anger and frustration took over you and you lifted your hand, slapping him in the face. An immediate feeling of guilt took over you and you apologetically began caressing the curls that touched Marc’s forehead.

“Oh god, Marc,” you gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

Slowly, he lifted his face and focused his dark eyes on you. His eyebrows were angled downward. He lifted his hand, wrapping it around your wrist in a nearly painful grip. The light and shadows that traced the map of his face revealed eyes darker than you’d ever seen on Marc or Steven. The corners of his lips were turned slightly downward and the vein at the side of his neck was prominent from the tightness of his jaw. 

“Not Marc, hermosa,” he growled as he grabbed a hold of your other hand, tossing you on the bed.  

“Jake?” You gasped, looking at him as he grazed lustful eyes over your body. 

“Sí, claro,” he replied, his voice low and wanton as he stared up at the round mirror above your dresser. 

You weren’t sure who he was looking at, Marc or Steven, maybe it was both. Your mind and body completely focused on the man crawling over you on the bed. His hands explored the peaks and valleys of your body. His touch had its own quality that you had never experienced or imagined. With Steven, he made you feel like a queen always willing to serve you and remind you how beautiful you were through gentle, loving touches, and aftercare. Marc was decidedly more confident in himself, though your physical pleasure was always a priority, and he reveled in making you come especially on his tongue. No, this touch had no resemblance to theirs and you trembled beneath it.

Jake’s lips curled up into a devilish smile as he tightened his grip on your wrists. He brought his lips to your neck and pushed your legs apart with his strong thighs. Your breaths came out in quick gasps as he rolled his hips against you, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans. 

“Are you scared of me, muñeca?” His breath was hot against your skin. 

“I—I don’t---,” you couldn’t find the words to confess how you were feeling, but every inch of your body quivered.

Trapping you beneath his legs, Jake reached into his back pocket to pull out a switchblade. You wiggled beneath him, but stilled yourself as he opened the knife and began tracing it lightly on chest. You closed your eyes, knowing you should feel nothing but paralyzing fear, but your body betrayed you as you rolled your pelvis upward in desperation for him. With a quick swipe of his blade, he cut a slit down the middle of your chemise, ripping the rest of it from your body with his bare hands. A moan escaped you as he tossed the remnants to the floor.

“Oh, you like this, hermosa,” he groaned as returned the blade to his back pocket, getting harder the more you writhed beneath him, “this is why you wanted us to come with you.” 

His hands worked at your tits, massaging them, squeezing them with heavy hands, and pinching your nipples until you were crying for him. He painted a hot wet trail up your body with his tongue until he wrapped his mouth around your right nipple, swirling it in mouth, drawing out continuous moans from your lips. A quick nip of his teeth at each nipple sent a wave of ecstasy through your body and you could do nothing but yelp out his name. 

“You want me to fuck you,” Jake growled as he pulled his shirt off over his head and as he unzipped and pushed his jeans off to the floor, “You’ve been wanting me to fuck you.” 

He pulled your hips towards the edge of the bed, where you were met with his mouth planting hot, wet kisses on your mound through your lacy purple underwear. He took two long fingers caressing the center of the lacy fabric, your desire growing with each stripe he traced there. 

“Dímelo,” he said as he curled the tips of his fingers at the edge of your underwear. 

They were so close to your center, so close to touching exactly where you wanted him. But not close enough. 

“Say it,” he demanded while he continued to taunt you with his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, “---need you to fuck me, Jake.”

He paused with a low, deviant laugh that came from the back of his throat. You pressed yourself up on your elbows, needing to see his face after your reply. His eyelids were low with the most wanton desire as his gaze shifted to the large mirror that rested against the wall between two, long arched-shaped windows. The moon beams were bright through the window, and you saw them glimmer in his eyes before he said anything again. 

“Don’t worry, hermanos,” he said, his voice rumbling against your center, “I’ll take good care of her.” 

The sound of ripped lace reached your ears and just as quickly, Jake’s mouth was on you in a slow open-mouthed kiss. All you could do was gasp as he slipped  his tongue through your folds licking with slow, broad strokes of his tongue from the bottom to the top. He worshipped at your clit with slow, torturous circles until he licked down to your center, repeating the movements all over again. You bucked against him with a moan and moved your hands to lace your fingers in his curls. 

“Estas tan desesperada por mi,” he uttered, tightening your grip against his hair so that your hands couldn’t move. 

He pushed face further into your mound, the tip of his nose touching your clit as he his tongue dipped deeper through your folds, trading endlessly between broad, delectable strokes and swift, tight swipes that tortured you with each exchange. The beat of your heart pounded to your ears and all your nerve endings felt like they had gathered around your swollen pussy as he hummed against it. He wrapped his soft lips against your clit, rolling his tongue against you at first and then sucking every bit of your slick in his expert mouth. 

“Fuck---Jake---feel so good!” you cried out, trying to push your hips towards him for more. 

A deep throaty hum left his mouth as he began to slip one, then two fingers into your slick. His tongue never let go of its ownership on your clit as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, stoking the fire inside of you. Like some kind of poetic synchronicity your toes curled just as he curled his fingers in you, feeding your fire and sucking at your clit like it's the only thing he’s ever needed. In a matter of seconds, you came with a line of breathy cries of his name while he clamped his arms around your writhing hips. 

“Move up, cariño,” he said, slapping at your pussy and helping you with a slight roll of your hips sideways. 

His eyes kept their intense and libidinous gaze on you as you trembled and rolled in the sheets as he pulled off his black boxer-briefs. You licked your lips as he crawled towards you, cradling you in his arms as his right hand gripped your face as he kissed you. You knew your lipstick would be a mess by the way he devoured your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Need you---need your cock, Jake!” you cried, your fingers reaching out to him through the waves of your bed sheets. 

More than ready to oblige, he crawled over you and growled in your ear, “All fours, muñeca.”

His hands massaged your ass before, caressing up and down your waist before he gifted you with one, two, three strong slaps of his firm hand. Shuddering with ecstasy, you looked up and saw the mess he was making of you in your large mirror, your lipstick smeared and your face moaning with desperation for his depravity. It was like being hypnotized as you watched yourself and him in the mirror. A long thread of saliva left his mouth and dripped down to your ass, and you were suddenly wiggling back for him. He teased you with a few quick slaps of your pussy with his hard, bobbing cock and he coated his cock with a few pumps of his own saliva he’d pressed to his fingers with his tongue. And with decadent groans, he began to push into you. 

You’d felt this cock many times before, you reminded yourself with closed eyes, as Jake slapped into you with a few shallow thrusts. But you’ve never felt it quite this way, as he pulls back almost completely before he is bottoming out into you with an unrestrained grinding of his hips, making sure you can hear the slap of your hips and your soaking pussy against him. 

“Oh god, fuck, so good, Jake” you cried as you pressed your face against your sheets and pushed back against him. 

“Face up, cariño,” he ordered as you felt him swiftly wipe his thumb against your asshole, “want you to see your face when I make you cum all over my cock.” 

A moan escapes you at the novel feeling, one that Steven or Marc had never done for you. Jake  made a few more quick slaps on your ass as you scrambled to lift yourself back onto your hands. His loud groans continued to fill your bedroom as he thrusted in and out of you with a varied pace you couldn’t anticipate, driving you mad. 

“Jake, please---please fuck me like I’m your whore,” you begged through filthy cries for him.

The second those words slipped from your lip, Jake’s hand slid from the attention he was giving your asshole until he was caressing your back and pulling at the waves of your hair. His thrusts felt unimaginably deeper as he kept a strong grip there, thrusting and throbbing against the walls of your tight cunt. 

“Fuck, look at you!” He groaned as his thrusts became faster and faster as they continued to hammer deep inside of you. “Look at her, a fucking mess, acting like a whore for me.”

You couldn’t help but look, feeling almost bad that you knew Jake was speaking, no taunting Marc and Steven. The way your tits bounced, the way you clutched at the sheets, and the way your mouth hung open in an unending moan for him. The sounds that echoed from your cunt were wet and obscene. 

“I---Jake---Jake I’m gonna cum!” you cried, trying to reach back to him as the walls of your pussy quivered and clenched against his long, thick shaft. 

With vigorously deep thrusts, he emptied inside you with a luscious and raspy moan, “That’s it, mi amor, take it all.” 

With one final groan he pulled himself from you, swiping one thumb to your asshole before sliding one quiver-inducing stroke to the folds of your sensitive pussy. Together you collapsed in a mess of sweaty, love-soaked limbs. Resting right leg open against his thigh gave him a chance to caress your legs with an unexpectedly soft hand. You used this moment of silence to catch your breath and regain your composure, not sure what to expect afterwards from Jake. 

“That was...unexpected,” you sighed looking over at a smirking Jake, whose eyes were closed in post-coital bliss, “are they---,” 

“They’ll get over it,” he responded quickly to your unfinished question about Marc and Steven, “besides you said, ‘all in’, right? I’ve just shown them it’s ok to push you to your limits.” 

You turned to Jake, propped yourself on one elbow, and turned his face towards you with a gentle, but teasing hand, “Tsk, oh darling, you’ve only just scratched the surface.”

#oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfiction #moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight system #juice bar collective #juice collective

[konigsblog]

john price nsfw headcannons. f!reader

warnings: smut ofc, mentions of punishment and corruption kink.

adores when you smoke a cigar with him, share a beer on his leather couch. his hand running up your skimpy and short skirt, eyes widening slightly when he realizes you have no panties on.

humps you when you bend over. his clothed and hard bulge thrusting into you, grinding himself against you and using you like his little toy. “good doll, lettin' me use you however i like..”

sharing kink + exhibitionism kink. sharing you with his men; tied up, guessing who's thick and hard cock is shoved inside your holes while price holds you jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. ramming into your wetness and working your tight walls open, wiping away any lone or stray tears leaving your eyes, glistening and glossy. “that's it.. let them take ya', c'mon, don't be shy, love.. just be quiet, and stop cryin', yeah?”

i swear he has a scent kink.. he's so musky and sweaty, forcing your face into his armpit as you inhale his scent. rubbing it against you while you ride his throbbing cock, bouncing on his length, gasping and whimpering.

more about the exhibition kink. wants everyone to know who you belong to, this includes; him ramming his fat dick into your ass in a bar, grasping at your hips and not even trying to hide the dirty things he's doing to you. like it's SO obvious - some people turning their needs at the constant skin slapping noises from far away watching as he pounds his cock into your hole.

corruption kink + praising you. especially if you're a virgin, he's your first? let him take you, he'll be gentle just this one time..

will eat you out slowly, painfully slowly.. dragging his tongue along your slit and collecting your juices, remaining between your legs for hours until you're grinding your pussy against his face. “patience, sweetheart..”

loves taking your ass. stretching your tight little asshole out, slowly dragging his weeping girth out your ass and shoving himself back in with force.

he has big, heavy breeder balls. FULL of potent seed, maybe a breeding kink in the future.

will punish you and he's not afraid to hurt you. spanking you harshly, his scarred and large hand colliding with your ass, tinting your cheeks pink. or instead using his belt, the material of his leather back smacking against your little tight ass, causing them to flush a shade of pink, matching the shade of your stained panties :(( “quit sobbin', you've done this to yourself.”

another form of punishment would be orgasm denial. edging you so far, getting you so so close, teasing your clit using the tip of his hard cock, only to pull away last second and leaving you whimpering and gaping.

you'll cockwarm him after deployment. sitting on his lap as he watches tv, his arms wrapped around your form, hole stuffed full of him. catching up on a series that you'd both been watching, his thumb gliding over your cunny, soaked and wet with slick :(

cockwarming him during paperwork? a must. your mouth stretched around his size, girthy dick inside your mouth with your tongue pressed flat against his shaft, whining around him as his tip leaks and drools. just be quiet and suck him off slowly under the table like a good girl, yeah?

#orla speaks #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare ii #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #cod modern warfare #cod imagine #cod mw22 #captain john price #john price #captain price #price mw2 #price #cod mwf2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warefare 2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty fic #call of duty #call of duty fanart #call of duty headcanons #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #mw2 fanfic #cod mwii smut #mwii x reader

[tianasimstreehouse]

Occult Recipebook

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble.

INTRO

Occult gameplay is up there with one of my favourite ways to play. Food is a part of our Sims lives, and should also be for occults so that they can cook up their preferred foods.

This Occult Recipebook is a collection of custom recipes (food and drink) for Occult Sims in the Sims 4.

I have started off this occult culinary journey with: ✨SPELLCASTERS✨

I have plans to later create foods for each occult life state, so I will keep adding to the recipe book.

“Spellcasters” as a life state can be played in so many different ways: they can range from gnarly evil witches who practice black magic and eat bird entrails, to happy little fairies who live in cottages surrounded by woods and flowers! I have tried to include a little bit of everything in the recipes I have created. These foods are a mix of fairy, fantasy, green garden witch, apothecary, or black-magic sorcerer etc. 

They effect Spellcasters and/or human Sims in many weird and wonderful ways.

E.g. Nettle Tea which helps teenagers suffering with acne, Milk Thistle Biscuits which leave the consumer with prickly thistles in their tongue, and Eye of Newt Soup which most Sims will find disgusting but which Spellcasters will happily slurp up.

RECIPES

39 new recipes for your Spellcasters!

~ Realm of Magic is required for these recipes ~

**there's a fair amount of pack-integration, and be sure to read the pack recommendations on the Patreon post for each recipe** to make sure nothing is missing or glitching.

Meals Dandelion Salad - increases SCs gardening skill, fills PlantSims' hunger Nettle Soup Soft-Boiled Golden Eggs - makes Sims glow and glitter Pumpkin Pasties Pomegranate Halves Eye of Newt Soup - makes other Sims feel sick Valerian Root Pie - other Sims won't like this dish Elderberry Jam Toast Toadstool Soup - inspires SCs, normal Sims won't like this dish Salamander Stew - other Sims won't like this dish Spiced Honey Bread - SCs will gain all skills faster Raised Newt Pie - makes other Sims feel sick Dragon Livers - Werewolves will love these and normal Sims won't Raised Phoenix Pie - Sims will randomly breathe fire for a while and feel confident

Desserts Milk Thistle Biscuits - chance to get uncomfortable thistles in tongue Huckleberry Jam Cream Puffs - makes SCs playful Fairy Bread Soul Cakes Huckleberry Pie Juniper Berry Jam Biscuits Honeycomb Cakes - SCs will gain all skills faster Valerian Custard Tart Toadstool Cookies Cursed Cookies - wouldn't recommend eating these... serve them to enemies! Eating one may leave the SC eater cursed. Good Sims will sense the evil inside and get sad Canning *Requires Cottage Living Canning Skill Gooseberry Jam Elderberry Jam Rosehip Jelly Drinks *Bar/alcoholic drinks require Mixology skill, and a Bar. Acorn Coffee (*coffee machine) Pumpkin Juice Willow Bark Tea - A home remedy to cure most illnesses, food poisoning etc Sage Tea - soothes stress and anger, SCs are focused and improve logic skills faster Nettle Tea - helps teens suffering from acne Lavender Tea - makes Sims flirty Mugwort Tea - reduces fear or panic Butterbeer - gives SCs confidence Mandrake Ale Nettle Wine Dandelion Wine Elderberry Wine

INFO & DOWNLOAD (early access): https://www.patreon.com/posts/79514896?pr=true Milk & Cookies: Now! Sugar Cookies: May 24th Public: May 31st

Pro tip for Windows PC users: Please make sure to delete the MACOSX folders/files that can appear after you extract the mod's files, otherwise the game may throw an error and not load at all.

TRANSLATIONS Polish - ❤️ Daisy1728, find their translation over here French - ❤️ Heidi / LuniverSims, find their translation here

#ts4 custom foods #ts4 occult #ts4ROM #ts4 realm of magic #the sims 4 #ts4 custom recipes #ts4cc #ts4mods #tianasimscookbook #recipe grimoire #ts4 occult cookbook #ts4 occult foods #occult recipes #ts4fantasy #ts4 cottagecore #goblincore #ts4 gameplay mods #gameplay mod #ts4modding #ts4 cc #ts4 witches #RoM

[gtgbabie0]

Hello! ~~ so since i saw this cute video i cant get this idea out of my head ( the video was basically a cat laying on a girl stomach and it was not getting up cause she senced her owner beinv pregnant and that video was jus adorable 🥺) but what if the group( Jill, Chris, Claire, Rebecca) is hanging out at someone place and ofc Leon and the reader is there as well and as the reader sit down the cat instantly gose to her does the same, plus the cat doesn't leaves her side? I just genuinely find this idea adorable soo m8ch 🥺🥺🥺

- Leon Kennedy x reader

{Claire’s cat doesn’t once leave your side, and Leon finds it adorable}

Ack! This is too cute!! Thank you for requesting as always lovely! Enjoy💕

CW// reader is pregnant

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Do want anything to drink, sweetheart?” Leon asks, turning to you as Claire and Chris walk into the kitchen, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. He wouldn’t let you do anything with you being heavily pregnant, he even barred you from cooking. You learned rather quickly that it was useless to fight him on it, no instead, you took great advantage of it.

His hand soothed over the curve of your stomach with a bright smile, “Something sweet would be nice, if Claire has anything sweet” you say, and Leon nods pressing a kiss to your forehead, he lets his lips linger there for a moment.

“I’m sure she’s got something,” he tells you before getting up and joining the siblings in the kitchen.

You glance down at Claire's big tabby cat that was sat by your feet, she hadn’t moved an inch since you sat down, that was until now. You watch as she jumps up beside you curling up on your lap with her head resting against the bump of your tummy.

You smile scratching behind her ear as she purrs, rubbing her head against your tummy. “Aww! Leon look!” Claire beams as she carries a bowl of sweets into the living room.

You watch as Leon’s eyes light up. He chuckles. walking over to you with a glass of cold apple juice, “Here you go angel” he says handing you the glass as you thank him softly, he takes a seat next to you.

The ginger cat doesn’t move an inch, not even when Claire sits down, instead she only nuzzles herself further into your side.

Claire watches and she swears her heart might just melt at the sweet interaction. She can’t help but let out a loud chuckle as the tabby cat shoots Leon a mean-looking glare causing him to retreat his hand.

“She’s protecting you,” Chris says to you, sitting down as he shovels some gummies into his mouth.

“From what?” Leon asks, sending a glare back at the cat, you giggle as you reach for his hand, your thumb soothing over the bump of his knuckles.

“No it’s because she knows you’re pregnant that’s why, she’s a smart cat” Claire adds, taking your now empty glass from your hand before you even have time to lean over and set it down on the coffee table.

The tabby cat doesn’t once move, not an inch not even when your baby kicks and as time goes on she reluctantly lets Leon sit closer to you, his hand holding yours in hopes the kitty might just get the hint that Leon isn’t a threat.

The sun starts to set and you can’t even get near Claire’s door as the cat doesn’t leave your side, walking beside you as you collect your things, she lets out an almost worried ‘meow’ as Claire picks her up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her” Leon smiles at the tabby, stroking behind her ear. "She's in good hands"

You smile as Leon’s hand rests on the small of your back. Claire walks over to you with her cat in her arms, “Don’t worry I’ll be fine” You smile down at the furry friend petting her gently, you sniffle trying to hold back the tears as you make your way to Leon’s car before saying your final goodbyes.

It’s only when Leon starts the car do the tears finally start to fall, “Whoa, hey- baby what’s going on? Are you okay?” Leon worries, his hand going to hold yours.

You nod your head wiping your tears, “No- yeah, I’m fine it’s just Claire’s cat, is she going to be worrying about me all night?” You ask sniffling and Leon tries so hard to bite back the laugh that wedges in the back of his throat.

“Oh baby- she’ll be fine I promise, Claire will take good care of her” he promises, taking your hand gently as he presses kisses to your knuckles, smiling against the back of your hand.

“Don’t laugh at me Leon, I’m emotional,” you tell him, and he glances over at you as he stops at a red light.

“M’not” he mumbles and you both break out in giggles, his hand resting against your thigh as he drives you both home.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil x you #resident evil fluff #resident evil fic #resident evil imagines #resident evil drabble #resident evil one shot #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy re2 #leon kennedy re4

[haerinari]

DAY 23 — MUTUAL MASTURBATION

PAIRING: stepbrother!jay x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, stepcest, masturbation, fingering, pillow humping, dick licking, cum eating.

WARNINGS: smut

KINKTOBER 2023

everything started when you were young, you father had left and your mom was alone with you. even tho it was only both you, you complement each other perfectly. it had always been your mom and you, best friends.

until one they your mom feel in love with a wealthy man and decided to get marry. he had a son two years older than you, his mom died giving birth to him so it was only the two of them.

the day you meet your new stepbrother, Jay, you got along with him pretty well. both of you had a lot of things in common and liked to play soccer, so you adapted to him very well.

that was when you were eleven.

while growing up you realized that Jay was having a few changes in his body. his voice got deeper, he grew a few inches taller, and his features began to become more handsome.

while you, you grew a a little (really little) inches taller, your ass and breasts become bigger, and the worst part. you got your period.

when you were 14 you started to pay more attention to Jay, you knew that it wasn’t totally correctly. but there was something on him that was so attractive in your eyes.

maybe his sharp jaw, his beautiful eyes, his veiny hands with long fingers. you didn’t know why, but Jay was hot as fuck.

now you were 18, and your parents had go to a trip on the beach celebrating his 8th anniversary. and Jay, Jay was out with his friends.

you were on your bed, watching instagram reels trying to be less bore than you were. when suddenly, a video of two girls kissing on a bar appeared on your scream. you weren’t a lesbian, but you had to admit it. lesbian porn was the best.

you watched the video a few times, looking closely on how the girls were kissing and how their hands were traveling around their tits and thighs. you didn’t even notice when your own hand was traveling directly to your pussy, putting the pink panties aside.

one of your fingers traveled up and down your slit, collecting all you juices to finally make circles on your clit. you moaned softly, imagining jay’s fingers instead of yours. thinking that was so wrong, but it felt so good.

you got your pants and panties off, throwing them somewhere on your room. you took one of your favorites pillows to do this things, placing it between your things and moving your hips back and forth. one on your hands tilted up your shirt a little, exposing your pretty tits and pinching one of your hard nipples.

you couldn’t stop thinking about jay.

Jay, jay, jay, jay…

how would it feel to ride his cock, how would his mouth would feel around your nipples, on your pussy, how his long slender fingers would stretch you so deliciously, and obviously, how big his dick would look on your mouth.

“oh~ jay” you moaned. “i’m gonna cum”

you started to ride your pillow faster and faster. pinching your nipples with one hand while the other one was doing circles on your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, jay” you gasped.

you were just about to cum, when suddenly…

“y/n, i’m he—” he said opening you door.

“holy shit! jay!” you screamed, trying to cover your exposed body with the sheets of your bed.

“why were you screaming my name!? i thought you knew i was home and that you were calling me” he said.

“i was thinking about y— I though you were already home, yes” you said, why wasn’t he leaving your room.

“and why are you naked?” he asked scanning you body.

“i just— i was…” you tried to justify yourself.

“wait. you were screaming my name, and i found you half naked, riding a pillow. were you touching yourself thinking about me?” he said with a smirk.

“what!?” you exclaimed. “no, no, i just—”

“yes you were” he said closing the door behind him and getting closer to you. “did you got the chance to cum? or did i interrupted on the best part?

“Jay, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you said.

“no, y/n. what the actual fuck is wrong with you? he said emphasizing the last words. “what a pervert stepsister do i have. do you thing this is the first time i hear you moaning my name?”

oh. shit.

jay was so close to your, his lips almost touching yours.

“do you need help to finish, pretty?” he said giving you a peck on your lips.

this was wrong, like, extremely wrong. but you were super horny, and you have wanted jay for so long.

“if you tell mom and dad i swear to god i will kill you” your told him, looking directly into his eyes.

“promise” he said.

jay got even more closer to you, getting off your body the sheets of your bed, leaving you completely exposed for him. he took one of his fingers s place it in your wet soaking pussy, sliding it up and down your slit.

he stayed like that for a few minutes, painfully teasing your pussy. you could see that you weren’t the only one getting excited, because the big erection you could see through his pants was almost begging for attention.

“take you pants off” you said breathless. “i want to make you feel good too”

jay took his pants down his ankles, leaving only his boxers that were taken off seconds later. you knew his cock was pretty, it was the perfect size and shape.

now, you were fully lying down in the bed. jay was kneel down right next to you, with his cock over your tits and one of his hand on your pussy.

You began to pull his cock slowly, feeling his entire length in your hand while he made pleasurable circles on your clit. Jay inserted his middle finger into your pussy, feeling your wet walls clench around his digit. Then he put another finger into your cunt, stretching it in an incredible way, opening and closing his fingers, moving them in a spectacular form. and you, you were pulling his cock harder and harder every time.

Moans couldn't stop coming out of your mouth, Jay was good with his fingers. His cock was so close to your mouth that all you wanted to do was lick it.

you could hear the little whimpers and moans coming from jay's mouth, they were music to your ears. Jay started moving his fingers faster than before, adding circular movements to your clit with his thumb. At this point, it wouldn't take long for you to cum very soon. But at the same time, you also wanted Jay to have his first orgasm with you, so you massage his tip to finally give him a lick all over his dick.

“fuck, do that again and i’m gonna cum” he said.

“cum on my face” you told him.

you licked his dick again and after a few more strokes him cummed all over your face and tits. you opened your mouth, tasting the white liquid that you always wanted to take.

and before you knew, you were also cumming hard on jay’ s hand. moaning his name and finally getting some released. jay took his fingers out of your pussy and put them into his mouth, licking them in a sensual ways, tasting your juices.

“thanks god mom and dad won’t be around for a while” he said with a smirk.

#enhypen jay #jay #enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen smut #park jongseong #park jay #jay smut #kpop smut #smut #kinktober #enha x reader #jay x reader

[animemensblog]

Good side

Toji x reader

Pt.1 pt.3

Summary; after his tantrum Toji tries to make it up to you. Yet you won't move on so quickly, all he wants is to make his woman happy again. But, does he know how?

Warning; there's small arguments, some cussing, and smut (it's kind of one-sided smut if that makes sense)

This is mostly soft Toji, I prefer him being a softie for the one he loves🥰

"Hey babe I'm gonna shower, k?" You yell from the bathroom. Toji, who's laying on the bed, springs up and runs to the door almost tripping and falling on you.

"I wanna join" he chuckles, sending you a small smirk

"Fine, but I don't wanna spend a shit ton of time again. My water bill was too high last month"

"Hm" he replies

"Hm? That's all you have to say for wasting my water?" You joke at him. All he does is smile down at you, reaching to cup your face. Toji kisses your forehead and lingers for a moment, sighing contently while taking in your scent.

"I love you, y/n," he mumbles then pulls away, "ya know?" You two make eye contact, and when you see him you can't manage to tell him what you really think.

"I know" you giggle at him, then slipped into the shower. Huh, she didn't say it back, Toji thinks. He continues stripping while you still process the fight, and the words he let slip. Does he think there's a reason for me to be insecure?

You look down on your body, watching the water run down every curve and imperfection. Huh, I've always looked like this?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Toji steps in, immediately grasping at your hips. He hums as he nuzzles his face into your neck, letting out a sigh.

Tojis sight is set on your face, admiring your neck, while yours is still focused on your lower half. Tojis eyes slowly shut and his lips gently kiss your neck. I can see why he chooses only doggy when given the chance, he doesn't have to see my thighs, stomach or even my tits. He wouldn't have to see my face, embrace my kisses. In that position, nothing is unique to me other than the skin he touches.

As your mind overflows with doubt, Toji's hands make their way to your chest and collarbone. Gently brushing against it, memorizing every detail; he's done this so many times he knows everything about your body. He can do it with his eyes closed, and still recall it all. Enough where he rants to Geto about it when during the weekends hes drunk. One time, he sketched your tits *perfectly* on a bar napkin.

He planned to bring it to you the next morning, but his ex appeared and threw it out.

Unfortunately, Toji is forever oblivious to people, even more ignorant towards himself.

"What you thinking about, baby girl?" He whispers, pulling you back to reality

"Just.. you and I" you turn to him, pecking his nose. Toji lifts his head and brings his lips to yours. He gently nibbles on your bottom lip and pulls your closer. You sigh as he groans, then you feel his tongue slither inbetween your lips.

Toji pulls away and turns you around, running his hands all up your stomach and on your back, then down to your ass. One hand squeezes as the other smacks it, you slightly squeal at this, he chuckles.

His right hand leaves your ass, finding your wet slit. Toji collects all the juices you've let out, scooping it and fingering back into you. You look up at him, and his eyes are closed. He's not watching what he's doing? Is it that bad to look? You think to yourself, dropping your head against his chest so you don't have to see.

He places a kiss on the back of your head, then lifted you up, pinning you to the shower wall. His lips trailed across your shoulder leaving several marks along the way. You still hide your face against his heaving chest, choosing to make this easier for him.

Your moans get louder once he speeds up, his thumb was playing with your clit hoping to coax an orgasm.

"You feel amazing baby" he says into your hair, you only nod in response. He takes this as you're getting close, so he curls his fingers against your soft spot, causing you to be louder.

"You wanna cum?" He asks, and yet still only gets a nod. So he assumes you're lost in it, Toji knew you needed him but not this bad. Was his outburst that damaging for you? He has no idea, clueless- he'd never put two and two together without your help.

He starts to slow down, along with your moans. You assume he's gonna eat you out, maybe, or switch hands, instead he stops. Licking his fingers while spinning you to face the wall. Did he mean to stop before you could actually cum, or does he not care? You opt for not saying anything, you know how touchy the "you did this wrong" topic is for him.

Toji forces his hard dick into you, feeling you throb around him. "Fuck you feel amazing", you grip the shelf on the wall for stability as he slams into you, non-stop. It's clear he's quickly chasing his high, but you know he's only doing it to save water like you asked, right?

You feel him abruptly pull out and cum onto your thighs, ass and pussy. Toji gropes your ass another time, slightly patting it, then hug you from behind. "Y/n,"

"Hm?"

"I love you so much" he says. The way he says it is clearly from exhaustion but you swear you hear irritation, like it's forced. He helps you clean up like usual, and assists you stepping from the shower.

Huh, she didn't say it back, again.

You wrap a towel around you, and leave the bathroom. Toji stands there, his towel loosely around his hips staring at the door. He's confused, obviously. Once he's finished getting dressed, he finds you cutting the potatoes from earlier.

"Hey, I thought my punishment was cooking?" He jokes, but he gets an airy 'hmpf' laugh.

"Baby, is something wrong?"

"Not at all" you say over your shoulder. He doesn't buy it.

"A'right. Want get some ice cream for after this? We can watch that new movie I rented"

"Sure"

"I'm gonna put shoes on then I'll be ready to go"

"Okay babe" you say flatly

A couple minutes go by and Toji comes from the bedroom with his wallet, "ready baby?" He says as he walks over to you.

"Did you want me to come with you?" You ask without facing him

He hesitates, does she want to go? he thinks. "Of course, doll."

"Is it okay if I stay here? Don't feel like going out after a shower."

"Y-yeah, you don't need my permission for that" he chuckles, hoping this isn't too serious. He kisses the back of your hair, lingering once again. This time, for a lot longer. Toji is internally screaming for you to face and kiss him. He makes himself pull away and decides he'll pick up more than ice cream, maybe your favorite drinks and another movie.

Toji heads out the door while you fall to the floor crying. You regret not facing him, you could feel his pain when you didn't kiss him back or even say bye like usual. But, you don't see any of his regret for treating you like he has.

As you keep curling into yourself on the cold floor, he was filling a cart of random things he thinks you'd like, he even sped off to an extra store or two. One being a bookstore, specifically asking the employees about a book you've been wanting. He got it.

However, that many stops and shopping meant a delay. Toji lost track of time, and when he caught a glimpse of his phone he realized an hour has passed.

After 20 minutes of crying in the kitchen, you stood up and moved around. Suddenly becoming anxious he hasn't come back from a store 5 minutes from your apartment. You waited another 15 before drowning in more thoughts- he's not coming back is he? If I were him I wouldn't either, you collapse onto your bed then slid to the floor, once again curling up in the corner.

I wonder if he's making a stop at his exes, and got distracted. Maybe he went to Gojo's and Suguru's? With that, you call your friend as you try to stop your sobs escaping your throat.

"Hey y/n, wha-"

"Is Toji with you?" You cry out

"Whoa y/n hey, take a breath. Are you okay? Did something happen? Do you need me to come over? I can be there in 10, Gojo talk with y/n." If Geto's overdramatic personality doesn't distract you when you're upset, Gojo surely will.

"Um, hello?" Gojo says while laughing

"Hi Satoru"

"OH HEYYYY, what's up princess?"

"Nothing I'm just hiding on my floor" you giggle

"Whys that?" Gojo asks

"Toji hasn't come back yet, and he hasn't answered my calls"

"HE HASNT ANSWERED? You didn't mention that!" You hear Geto yell in the background.

"Geto shut the actual fuck up" Gojo gets you to vent about what's happened as they head over. Once in a while hearing Suguru nag Gojo when driving on the phone.

Your friendship brings you peace, somehow, most of the time Gojo is unsufferable and Geto's anxiety takes over. Nonetheless, they're the people you need in your life.

They arrive withing 10 minutes, just like Geto said. Gojo kicks open the already broken door, seeing a dark living room and lit up kitchen.

Geto goes to find you as Gojo finishes the food that was started hours ago. When Geto discovers you partially under the bed, he crawls underneath to talk with you.

"Fucking hell" you hear him say when he hits his broad shoulder on the frame. He let's out a frustrated sigh as he settles with his shoulders invading his face, pressing into his chin.

"I don't think you're made to be hiding under here, Geto"

"Shut up, I fit perfectly fine." He says as he re-adjusts

You two sit in silence while listening to Gojo sing whatever annoying song he has stuck in his head, occasional voice cracks causing you to laugh.

"Hey baby, I'm so sorry I took so long-" Toji starts as he comes in, looking up to find Gojo in your vibrant apron, cooking. Gojo leans and places his hand on his hip, "OH BABY I'm so glad you're okay!!" He runs over to Toji, leaping onto him.

"Why the fuck are you here" he says while he throws Gojo off of him.

Satoru stands up while chuckling, "y/n called us when you didn't return her calls, or return at all."

"She was that worried?"

"That's not the issue" Gojo spits.

"Isn't it?"

"She was right, you're oblivious" with that, he turns back to the stove, completely ignoring Toji.

"Where is she?" Toji mumbles

"Baby?" He whispers as he pushes the door open

"Making love to Geto in the bedroom, I'm up next" he jokes, earning a 'tsk' from Toji. As he walks back, he remembers this feeling. The one here he's slumped over, waddling to find you knowing you're upset and its his fault.

"We're under here" Geto speaks up while he's trying to pull from underneath. In the corner of your eye you notice Toji forcing himself to you from the other side, having more troubles than Geto. Who is evidently stuck with his arms to his side, and can't escape the upcoming conversation, nor can he cover his ears.

With a loud 'fuck' Tojis head taps yours, you look up to see him laying on his chest, his arms trying to reach for you. His back barely scraping passed the boards and his feet pathetically trying to push farther behind him. "Hi doll" he says, turning his neck to face you.

"Toji help" Geto says, squirming like a worm

"Why"

"I'm stuck" he whines, convincing Toji to try pushing him. Instead, his hand slipped off Geto's shoulder onto his already squished face.

"Hey knock it off" he barks at Toji

"I'm not doing anything", and he proceeds to purposely hit him "your face is just in the way". With a final smack, his hand grips his forehead and pushes, resulting in nothing.

Geto clears his throat, "until further notice, I'm unfortunately stuck" he huffs closing his eyes in defeat. Toji turns back to you, and his face softens. "Can we talk?" He asks,

"You're already under here, so I guess"

"I'm sorry I didn't answer you, and took so long" he stops at that, saying nothing more.

"Is that it? What were you doing?" You ask, with no malice, only curiosity.

"Well I was shopping, what else would I be doing?" He spits

"Shopping doesn't mean you can't answer your phone, Toji" you toss your head away from him.

"I was just excited about what I wanted for you, I got distracted, that's all."

"Well thats nice of you Mr.Romantic" Geto laughs out

"You could buy me a fucking car but that doesn't excuse ignoring me." You say without looking at him, missing how his face changes soft to angry.

"You could be grateful you know, I only went out to make you feel better!" He shouts, causing your ears to ring as it echoes under the bed.

You wince, "to make me feel better, or you?" Toji pauses, taking a second to genuinely think as Geto chimes in, again.

"Why are you so ungrateful, your man loves you enough to spend money on you when you didn't ask"

You sharply turn around, your harsh gaze landing on them, "if you boys want a woman you can satisfy with your pennies and quarters, go find a whore." With that, you slide out leaving the two men behind, still stuck.

"Wait baby, that's not-"

"Y/n I-", they both are cut off when you slam the bedroom door closed. You storm out to the living, finding Gojo wearing your neon apron; including a hat you made during a party out of tampons, that you swore you put in the trash. His wide eyes met yours- you begin to speak, pointing a finger at him with your mouth partially open before shutting it, nodding and leaving out the front door.

His eyes follow you until he hears a loud shout from your room, "Y/N!" He hears Toji yell, as he approaches the door he hears Geto nagging him about yelling in a confined space.

"Shut the fuck up, we're stuck and can't use our arms. What else can we do?" Toji barks, earning a kick on his leg from Gojo.

"Who pissed her off first" he asks

"Toji" "Geto" they same at the same time, Toji smacks him then Geto kicks Toji, now that you're not next to him anymore. Gojo chuckles while watching the bed shake, hearing small 'fuck you's. Then he decided to leave the idiots be.

Satoru sent you a text,

✨️Satoru✨️

Wanna drink?

You

Yes please <3

✨️Satoru✨️

Meet me at the bar around the corner in a few minutes

5 minutes later, Gojo pulls up to you sitting on a bench, patiently waiting for him. He jumps out, raising his hands asking for a hug. You gladly accept and run over, suddenly he scoops you up and tosses you in the backseat and drives you home.

You start kicking the seat, "you told me we were getting drinks!!"

"Technically I said we'd drink, not that we'd be going out", you still keep continue kicking the seat as you arrive, then he drags you in.

By now Toji and Geto stopped fighting and opted for silence before they hear the front door slam. They both start yelling again, hoping to be freed before they hear Gojo laughing and you squealing as you're tossed onto the bed, Gojo following suit.

You two start faking moaning until Toji almost flips the bed trying to escape, which hurt Geto in the process. He grabs Gojo's ankles and yanks him off the bed, then went to lay on you.

Toji says nothing, in fact he starts crying against you making the other two quietly leave. "Hey, hey whats wrong Toji?" You coo at him as you brush his hair. He doesn't respond, only gripping to you harder. You try to pry him off so you can look at him but he doesn't let you.

"I'm sorry" he cries out, burying his head farther into your stomach. "I'm so sorry." You let him continue for however long he needed, occasionally hearing him mumble explanations, praises and apologizes. Gojo and Geto after a while came in and said goodbye, letting you know the food that's been waiting to be cooked all day was finished and put away.

Toji's sobs softened and were only small gasps and hiccups. His grip on your torso let go, and he started pulling himself to your neck. "Baby?" He whispers, his scratchy voice vibrating on your skin.

"Yes, Toji?"

"I'm so sorry"

"For what?" You hesitantly ask, not wanting to make him upset.

"For everything. I should've called you, let you know I was okay. I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier, it wasn't fair." You feel another tear drop onto your neck as he continues, "you deserve better and I love you but I treat you so badly" he starts crying again, his grip getting tighter.

"It's okay baby, I forgive you. You treat me so well, remember? You went out and got things to apologize, a-and offered to make that food to make up." You were now cradling his head against your chest as tears fell down his face, your legs wrapped around his torso trying to hold whatever you could.

"Why don't you love me?" He looks up at you, his red eyes stared at yours, waiting for your answer.

"Of course I love you, what is there that isn't to love?"

"Then why haven't you said it all day?" He buries his head back into your neck as you think back, you scoff as you realize you were so lost in thought you never returned his affection.

"Awe sweetheart, I'm so so sorry, I've been distracted. I do, I do love you Toji" you mumble on top of his head, running your hands down his back.

Both of you sit there for several minutes, attempting to calm each other down.

"You know if I can't be distracted, you can't be distracted baby" he whispers, smiling against your skin.

"Yeah, that seems fair" you giggle, bringing your arms around his neck to hug him closer.

Toji's hand starts rubbing your back, and the other rubbing small circles on your hip. "Do you wanna see what I got you?" He looks up again, this time his eyes are dry and his lips are forming a smirk. You nod, and he picks you up. He walks you into the living room, and you see a couple of new fuzzy blankets, a bag of snacks and drinks, a bookstore bag that clearly has a book in it.

You spin your head and hug him, placing kisses on his cheek and neck. He smiles and goes to sit on the couch, putting on a movie and eating snacks with you on his lap for rest of the night.

This is her good side, no doubt he thinks as he kisses you. I'd do anything to stay on it.

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