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jamminvroomvroom · 3 months

Note

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

oh i’m soft

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lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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jobean12-blog · 5 months

Text

Back in my Arms

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,173

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is still new and even though the feelings are deep it's hard to put a label on it but when something goes wrong while he's out on a mission you realize just how much he means to you.

Author's Note: Because who wouldn't miss Bucky and worry about him when he's out saving the world? Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some worry and angst to start, soft and sweet fluff that turns to sexy times quick, semi-public se-x sorta :D

The loud ringing of your phone startles you from sleep and you sit up with a jolt. Searching the night table with a sweep of your hand you knock several things off but finally wrap your fingers around your phone.

“Hello,” you grumble sleepily.

“You were asleep.”

Your best friend’s uneasy voice comes through in a whisper and your heart starts to thump harder against your ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Babe…”

You sit up straighter and throw the covers off. “What?”

“They aren’t giving us any details but I just saw the news…”

“What?” you repeat and press your hand to your chest.

“It looks like the team is back but something went wrong.”

“Did you hear anything about Bucky?”

Your voice is shaky as you frantically search your room for clothes.

“No names but…”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m sure he’s fine babe,” she assures you even as her voice waivers. “But don’t turn on the TV or look at anything on your phone. Did he call?”

You slowly pull the phone away from your ear and check your messages.

Nothing.

You look at your missed calls and voicemail.

Still nothing.

When you hear your friend calling your name you place the phone back to your ear and whisper, “nothing.”

“It’s Bucky…he’s fine.”

“Okay. He has to be fine. I mean…technically I’m not his girlfriend. I can’t just rush over there and check on him, can I?”

“What you meant to say is, ‘you’re not his girlfriend yet,’ and who’s going to stop you?”

You nod as you start to pull on some clothes.

“I have to go. I’ll call you soon.”

With a few more reassuring words your best friend hangs up and you rush into the bathroom to make yourself presentable and then throw on Bucky’s Henley. The one you maybe forgot to return before he left for the mission.

Trying your best not to picture the worst in your head you run out of your apartment building and hail wildly for a cab.

Once inside your feet bounce along the floor and your hands are clasped tightly together in your lap as you silently will the driver to go faster.

When the cab pulls up to the tower you throw money into the front seat with a stilted ‘thank you’ and will yourself to take steady breaths.

Friday greets you and lets you in, directing you to the med bay on the lower floor.

Heart in your throat you creep out of the elevator and look left and right. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet and you step out.

“Doll?”

You whirl around at the sound of Bucky’s voice.

He’s standing there in his dark jeans that are painted on, his soft shirt rolled up to the elbows and his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. The fluorescent lighting gleams off his metal arm and you hear his fingers tighten into a fist.

“Oh good,” you whisper as his image blurs. “You’re okay.”

You try not to sniffle and keep your hands at your sides.

“I heard there was some trouble, so I…I figured I would come and check on you. And the rest of the team.”

“You came to check on me?”

His raspy voice sends a tremble down your spine.

“Yes.”

He takes a step closer.

“Is that my shirt doll face?”

“Oh…,” you grab the hem and finger the soft material.

“Doll…please. Please come here.”

You back up a step, hitting the elevator door. “I…I was so worried.”

His swallow is audible and you watch the muscles in his neck shift.

“I would have called but my phone is busted and I had to make sure Sam was ok.”

“Is Sam ok?” you ask, suddenly breathless again.

“Thankfully he’s going to be fine. Just needs some time.”

You nod and let out a shaky breath. He approaches slowly, dropping his jacket to the floor and holding his arms out for you.

“Doll…please. Come here. Let me kiss you. It’s all I’ve wanted to do for the past three weeks.”

Your whispered “okay,” can barely be heard above your breathing but the second he’s close enough you launch yourself into his arms.

He wraps you up tightly, your slight shakes making him coo softly in your ear as he smooths his hands along your back and kisses your head.

“Oh doll,” he whispers. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Your face presses into his chest and you inhale.

When his hand slides higher and wraps around the back of your neck he brings your eyes to his, their gaze falling to your mouth before he closes the distance, crashing his lips to yours.

Your broken moan makes him press you impossibly closer, needing to feel all of you.

He growls your name and takes two steps backward, pinning you against the wall. His lips trail down your neck and then back up until they meet your earlobe.

“I can’t fuck you here doll. But if we don’t stop that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“I need you now,” you plead, dragging your fingers through his hair. “Now Bucky. Please. I can’t wait.”

You’ve barely got the words out when he lifts you into his arms and starts to move down the hallway. You pull on his shirt and wrap your legs around his waist, rocking your hips against his.

His hand reaches out to feel for a doorknob and he kicks open the door to an old med room. You slide down his body and onto the floor as he reaches behind him to turn the lock.

Your fingers slip under his shirt and you run your fingernails over his abs as he walks you backward toward the wall.

“Take his off. Please. I need to feel you.”

“That’s my line doll,” he murmurs.

The urgency in your touch is nearly his undoing and between kisses he fumbles with your leggings, groaning when he slips his hand between your legs and feels the soaked fabric of your panties.

With a rip they float to the floor and he spreads your legs apart with his knee. You push his pants down and free him, taking him in your hand and guiding him closer.

He stills, trying to focus on his breathing and garner some semblance of control.

“Rough Bucky. I want it hard and rough.”

There goes any chance he had of holding onto control.

He fills you in one swift stroke and you bite back a scream, moaning into his hand when he covers your mouth.

“I thought about you the whole fucking time we were gone. I never stopped.”

He drops his hand to hear you whine his name in response and he slows the movement of his hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he groans.

You inhale and curl your fingers into his skin.

“I missed you.”

He grabs your ass and lifts you higher, angling your hips so he can go deeper.

“Say it again,” he demands.

“Missed you Bucky. I missed you so much.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @kmc1989 @goldylions @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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bleedingoptimism · 6 months

Text

They hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator as they walk inside the very luxurious building and Robin grabs Steve’s hand and makes them run to the door yelling, “Hold! Please!”

A hand covered in rings and with short nails painted black appears from inside and holds the door for them. They get in as Robin breathes out little ‘thank yous’ under her breath and Steve smiles at the gentleman who helped them. His brows go up a little at how handsome the man is. He’s wearing black dress pants and a black silk shirt under an also black suit jacket. The whole look is expensive and the man wears it very well. With his long curly hair tied at the back of his neck, plus the rings, the nails, and the surprising amount of piercings in his ears, he looks like a rockstar. He has a cute nose and full lips that look very enticing and big beautiful brown eyes that are looking back at him.

Steve smiles once more and nods politely figuring he should stop staring. They have to go up like a billion floors or something so this is going to be a long elevator ride. Probably shouldn’t make their traveling companion uncomfortable.

He distracts himself by looking at Robin, fixing her hair behind her ear. She looks great. Slack pants and a tight dress shirt in grey tones with black suspenders adorned with metal cufflinks. Short hair loose and just the right amount of disheveled and a graphic eyeliner so sharp it could cut you. He would know. He did her makeup. They were asked to dress party chick but professional, which neither of them knew what the hell meant but Steve is pretty sure Robin nailed it. He just hopes he did a good job too.

He’s wearing a white thigh shirt of a soft material he couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of and black dress pants, the ones that fit him like a second skin, paired with a big leather belt, just to add a little extra. He tries to inconspicuously check himself out in the mirrors of the elevator but accidentally meets eyes with the well-dressed man again. Who adverts his gaze quickly and Steve realizes he just caught him checking him out. He smiles to himself and looks down bashfully only to be horrified by what he notices because, his white shirt? The stupid fabric he can’t name? Totally sheer. Well not totally, but a little. Like he can see his nipples right now a little.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

“Robin, we need to go.” he suddenly says grabbing Robin by the back of the elbow.

Robin turns to him previously just nervously watching the floor numbers change and frowns worried, “What? We are already here, Steve! What do mean?”

“I need to go home and change Robin! I can’t-” He whispers to her, although he knows it’s in vain, there’s no way the handsome man isn’t about to hear a very embarrassing conversation.

“We are literally in the elevator. We are not going back home so you can change!” Robin huffs annoyed now that she knows it wasn’t anything more serious, “What’s wrong with your clothes?” she asks pinching his shirt between her fingers.

Steve turns his back to the man and crowds Robin, facing her, “Can you see my nipples?” he asks trying to keep his voice low but he hears a cough that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle behind him.

Robin looks at him like he’s lost his mind but, as always she goes with it, “Yes?”

Steve puts his palms over them and gasps and Robin starts laughing “What are you doing?” she says between giggles at the same time Steve exclaims, “I can’t show our new boss my nipples!”

“Steve, what?! I thought it was on purpose! You know, just a peek, a little chess hair, a little nipple.” Robin says still laughing but stops when she sees Steve is looking actually distressed.

She huffs and runs her hands up and down his arms comfortingly.

“Why would I want to show them my nipples!” Steve groans and Robin shrugs.

“It’s sexy? We were asked to dress for a party”

“Why would I want to look sexy for work?” Steve asks again, still trying to convince Robin to let him go home and change.

But Robin tilts her head to the side, “But you can’t turn that off, though? Like, you are always sexy.”

Instantly his mood changes and he smiles and coos at her, “Aww, that’s so sweet, babe! But you are biased…”

Robin scoffs at being babied and raises an eyebrow, “How am I biased?”

“Because you love me!” Steve answers like it’s obvious. And Robin nods as if taking in the information.

“Okay. I see your biases and I raise you the following point: It’s objective. Because I’m a lesbian.”

Steve laughs, but he’s not the only one. For a second, Steve had forgotten they had an audience member. A very handsome audience member. He blushes, the guy must think he’s such an idiot. But at least he thinks they are funny. He turns back to his side and smiles at him again.

But Robin suddenly jumps a little beside him, like she had just noticed him, and says, “Stranger! Opinion?”

“Rob, no-” Steve starts but Robin leans over him to talk to the man, “Shirt. Good? Bad?” She says moving her hands in front of Steve as if she was showcasing him. Steve blushes some more and tries to keep a neutral face. So he ends up just white-man smiling awkwardly.

The man chuckles again and then looks at Steve from top to bottom and back again, “You look good,” he says smirking.

And Steve's blush deepens. But Robin either doesn’t notice or is enjoying it, because she keeps questioning him, “Good. What are thinking? Slutty or sexy?”

The man leans his head to the side, his eyes roaming over Steve's chest and Steve has to resist the urge to cover his nipples again.

“It’s sexy.” he says, voice deep and serious as if this was an important conversation and not Robin and Steve being dumbasses, “Like, sophisticated sexy.”

Steve shakes himself to try to make his blush go away and addresses the man, “I- well, thank you, first. And second, I’m sorry you were dragged into this. But would you want to look sexy meeting your new boss?” he asks him.

He taps his chin in thought and then says, “Your friend is right though, are already here. Just don’t flirt with them and you'll be fine!”

At that Steve purses lips and Robin snorts rudely. “That might be a problem,” she says.

The man laughs surprised and Steve can’t help but think he has a really nice laugh, “How?” he asks them.

“Steve has a little miscommunication problem,” Robin explains, “When he tries to be charming people think he's flirting.”

Steve crosses his arms and huffs making the few locks that fall on his forehead lift a bit and fall back down, “I have no idea what I’m doing wrong! I’m just trying to be nice..”

The man is looking at him with raised eyebrows and he blinks a couple of times before snickering, “Looks like your friend is right, again. You just can’t turn sexy off, uh?”

Robin laughs really hard at that and Steve goes back to full tomato status.

“I could've tried!” he says, not even sure what are they arguing about anymore.

“How?” Robin asks him amused.

“I don’t know, a big sweater? Something knitted, comfy?” he tries but they both shake their head at him.

“That sounds sexy too,” The man says and Steve frowns,

“Literally. How?”

“It gives off fuck vibes. Like you are really fuckable,” he says, and then his eyes go wide and he bites his lips.

Robin’s eyes go wide too and she snorts, looking at Steve who is just staring at the guy with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Sorry!” the man says, raising his hands in mock surrender, “That was so out of line- I- oh! Saved by the bell it seems,” he says when the elevator dings, “This is my floor”

The doors open and Argyle and Jon are on the other side and Steve realizes, this is also their floor.

“Eddie!” Argyle says as the man moves towards him and they shake hands enthusiastically.

“Steve, Robin” Jon greets them with a smile as they slowly walk out of the elevator, watching Eddie’s deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“Ah! I hope you had a pleasant elevator ride and didn’t do anything awkward!” Argyle jokes completely oblivious, “I’m a little sad I didn’t get to introduce you guys!”

“...What do you mean?” Robin asks with a forced smile.

“Steve, Robin: This Eddie Munson!” Argyle says moving behind Steve and Robin and hugging them by the shoulders so they stand directly in front of Eddie, “Your new boss!”

#stranger things #steddie #meet cute #but awkward #kinda #i wrote something #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve is bringing sexy back (yeah)#eddie doesnt know how to act (yeah)

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tallulah477 · 6 months

Text

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor.

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up.

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day.

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off.

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot.

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff.

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent.

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human.

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .”

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind.

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you.

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout.

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half.

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun.

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management.

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’.

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close.

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it.

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is.

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost.

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face.

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest.

Scenting you.

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does.

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens.

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth.

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek.

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs.

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy.

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit.

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva.

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again.

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent.

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him.

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines.

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one.

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets.

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is.

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear.

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine.

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#Avatar12DaysofKinkmas #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x female reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x human reader #tw: noncon #tw: non con #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

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uplatterme · 1 year

Text

playing dangerous.

—this has been rotting in my google docs for a while but i finally finished it, thank god. i also got too into this omg, very self indulgent.

—sub!bottom!heizou/dom!top!reader, amab!reader (no gendered terms or pronouns) | yandere!reader/obsessive!reader, handcuffs on reader, blowjob (chara!receiving), dumbification, degradation, breeding, overstimulation, belly bulge

The incidents happened a month ago. A rise of crimes within Inazuma right after the Vision Hunt Decree was deemed no more. Of course, it would make sense for there to be riots as lots of lives were lost and ruined. And while that should be the most logical answer, the Detective certainly doesn’t think the same way…

There was something strange about these cases, something that he just can’t put his finger on.

His wall is plastered with different clues and yet none of them seemed to connect, except for the fact that they were always done on a Sunday.

That would usually be his day off but because of these incidents, he has been staying far longer in his office than he should be. All he does is pace around his room, annoyed that this was happening.

The incidents were too far from each other. Arson, Robbery, Trespassing, Blackmailing…

He reads the letter again from the latest case. It is nothing to note off, just a few words of threat.

Perhaps he should get the handwriting examined, see if it matches with anyone. Unfortunately, that would take too long. Who knows what would have happened by then?

He drops the letter, ready to move on to another piece of evidence when he feels something strange.

Heizou stares at his fingers. “Wax?”

A part of the letter is covered in waxy material. He smells to check, to see if it is wax.

The letter surprisingly smells of cherry.

“What?”

Why would a letter threatening someone that they’ll kill them if they say anything smells of cherry?

He eyes it in confusion.

The detective leaves his room, wanting a second opinion from someone. Someone who can answer this for him, preferably.

He grabs the first person he sees, urging them to come with him. They immediately follow, already used to the detective’s usual quirkiness. He’s the one who earns the station their meal tickets, so they don’t really find themselves complaining.

They are in awe at the state of his room. “Detective? Is something wrong?”

He holds the letter up. “Can you smell this?”

The worker stares at it before hesitantly taking the object. “It’s sweet.”

Heizou hums.

“Right. Do you have any idea what that may be? It seems to be a wax of some sort, from a candle maybe?” He deduces.

“Pardon me, sir. But I don’t think it’s from a candle.”

“Oh, is that so?” He lets them continue.

They nod. “It’s uh, an ointment. A new one. I think this brand is really popular.”

An ointment? Does that mean that the perpetrator got injured from one of their crimes?

“What’s the ointment for?”

“It’s a…beautification product. The ointment prevents dry lips, keeps them plump.”

“Huh.” Heizou says, stunned.

He did not expect that at all.

“Is that all detective? Shall I go now?”

“Yes, you may leave.”

That…just brings more questions unanswered. Was this whole thing planned? Did they plan for him to notice this clue or was this just an accident? If it wasn’t, then why? What’s the purpose of the letter being tainted with the ointment?

This was turning out more annoying than it should be.

Another Sunday, another crime.

Heizou hasn’t left his office despite it being his day off, knowing that he’ll be called once again if something happens.

He sits with his feet both up on the table, waiting.

Once the door slides open, he immediately stands up, wondering what he’ll face today. Will it be a repeat of the previous crimes? New ones? Or perhaps, they’d finally gone out of their way to take someone else’s life.

“Detective. Is something wrong?”

“No? I’m quite fine.” Heizou responds, confused by the accusation.

“You were smiling, so…”

The detective bites his cheek. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, and yet…

It’s been a while since he’s been faced with such a challenge. He can’t wait to unravel this piece by piece.

“Poison? That’s a new one.” Heizou checks the scene, seeing the mess that unfolded. There was dried blood on the floor, something that the victim coughed up.

Close.

They were just tipping over the line of possibly killing someone. If help wasn’t called, he probably would have died. It’s lucky that the victim is only suffering from a bruised throat.

He’d want to ask them questions but since that victim is in a comatose, he can’t exactly do that.

“Where’s that person who called for help?” Heizou asks.

He’s brought to the residence next door. He reads the name outside and finds that he has never once crossed that name in his investigations. That kind of thing is rare. Almost everyone has some kind of dirt relating to them. So it’s either that this person is as innocent as they come, or…

Once he knocks on the door, the person on the other side is quick to respond.

“Yes?” You answer.

“I’m here to ask a few questions? You are aware of what happened, yes? Since you’re the one who called for us here.” Heizou states.

He waits for an answer from you, only to receive none.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Is there a need for this? I assure you I haven’t done anything.” You say.

“Just making sure, we all do this with the people involved in these incidents.” He explains.

“If that’s the case…you may take your time.” You tell him, smiling at the detective and letting him inside your residence.

Heizou searches your place and he finds…nothing. Everything is clean. Not a trace of anything suspicious.

What’s strange instead, is your behavior.

He notices how you watch every single move he makes, eyeing him up and down. Perhaps you were merely curious. Otherwise, he isn’t sure why you’d do such a thing.

“I’m not your suspect, am I?” You ask.

Truthfully, you were far from it. You saved the victim’s life unintentionally.

“What is it that you work again?” Heizou knows but he asks anyway, seeing if you’ll slip up.

“I’m a writer. I write mostly romance novels, I assume you aren’t familiar with my name? After all, I’m sure the great Shikanoin Heizou has experience with romance in real life that he doesn’t need to turn to fiction, no?” He irks his tongue, knowing that you were only complimenting him. However, that with the way you look at him seductively suggests another thing.

That you were flirting.

He takes the bait and bites back, smiling as he replies. “I haven’t heard. Would you mind giving an example of the things you write?”

You chuckle softly. “A sample, you say? Oh, you know. Just your usual flirtatious lines.”

“Like what?”

“I’m afraid they’re a bit too…provocative. I shouldn’t say such things when you’re working.” You admit, though he’s sure you’re only saying that to be polite.

“I can take it.” Heizou says.

“Can you, pretty boy? Are you sure I’m not too much to handle? Ah, why don’t you use those tight handcuffs of yours? I might be unable to keep my hands off you if you keep talking like that.”

The detective stills. He stares deep into your eyes, not expecting that. He stumbles a bit with his words, unsure of what to say. Heizou keeps his trembling fingers in his pockets, not wanting to seem as if he’s that easy to fluster, though that doesn’t shy away from the slight reddening of his cheeks.

“That’s…a good one.” He simply states, keeping his eyes on your soft lips.

“Is it, Mr. Shikanoin?”

He’s aware that you’re teasing him, he knows that it’s all for fun. Yet, that doesn’t stop the fastened rate of his heart.

Next thing he knows, his own hands are moving and he’s clasping the handcuffs around your wrists.

He drowns in the approval your eyes give him, letting him know that he’s doing such a good job.

“Oh? Have I done something wrong, Detective? Or is this also protocol?”

He nods.

“You’re under arrest…for stealing my heart.”

You laugh at his statement. “You’re so cheesy. Is this how you usually act with your suspects?”

“I…Hold on.”

He lets you go, continuing to search your house. There has to be something in here, it’s too suspicious that there’s nothing. He can’t have himself distracted by you toying with him like this.

Then, he spots something inside the bedroom. He didn’t notice it at first, thinking it was a picture frame because of the way that the bedside table was covering its bottom half but now that he realizes it, he’s sure that it’s a door.

“May I move this table?” He asks.

Heizou sees you grin. A grin that sends shivers down his spine. Was he onto something after all?

“Sure, the key’s inside the drawer.”

He opens the drawer and takes the key. He then shakily opens the door right after he removes the obstacle that is your bedside table.

Heizou doesn’t like how eerily silent you get, how you’ve bruised your bottom lip from biting too hard.

He almost hesitates to open the door, intimidated by what he’ll see inside. His fingers hold the key tightly, he breathes deeply and looks back at you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, clearly amused. “Scared?”

“Yes.” He admits.

“You shouldn’t. I’m the helpless one in handcuffs, not you.” You reassure him.

While he knows you’re right, there’s still an uneasiness in his chest.

“I-I suppose.”

Heizou turns the key, expecting a crime scene. He had his choices in his head. Maybe you kidnapped someone and put them in there. Or, a dead body rotting inside that you had no way to get rid of.

However, what he sees is something unexpected.

That’s because Shikanoin Heizou sees himself.

Newspapers about him solving different crimes, arranged from when he just started to his most recent one. Pictures of him were taken discreetly, some of them even being done while he was sleeping in his office. Paintings of him, strands of his hair, and clothes that he thought went missing. It was a collection. Sort of a shrine even, but the center of it all is him.

He turns back as he hears you snickering and he has never been this glad to put someone in handcuffs in advance.

“W-What is this?” He questions.

You stare at him, confused. A confused look on your face.

“My love for you.”

“Love.” He restates.

You smile widely. Too wide that he sees your gums. Heizou’s fight and flight senses were tingling but were left with one option when you close the door with your back.

He reassures himself that it’s fine. He has a vision, you’re in handcuffs. If things were to go out of hand, he’ll end up being the victor.

“I really wanted to kill that guy.” You tell him.

“That guy?”

You nod, tightening your fist. “He was insulting you. I wanted to rip his throat out, show him what he deserves for saying such things.”

Heizou continues for you. “But you didn’t.”

It’s stupid. You know he’s a detective and yet you’re telling him all of this, as if you’re certain that you’ll come out of this without any repercussions.

“I didn’t! I knew you’d hate me if I did.”

It slowly starts to click in his head. You wanted to see him in public during his day off, that’s why you always orchestrated it at the start of every week. The letter with the beautification product, you were probably kissing it while you wrote it, knowing it’ll land in his hands.

As he thinks, the detective gets occupied and doesn’t notice that he’s centimeters away from you.

“I like that.” You say.

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling.” You point out.

Heizou uncomfortably relishes that fact. This is the second time that he’s been told that.

He hates the fact that this whole mystery has brought him such great entertainment. He’s been so focused on dealing with political problems within Inazuma that a mystery just like this brings him that thrill that he’s longing for.

This is so much better than that.

He shouldn’t enjoy it, and yet here he is.

The little detective is caught off guard as your lips smash on his. He tastes the blood from your bruised lips, how you press your mouth, your tongue sliding inside. He’s dizzy, unable to figure out whether he’s starting to choke because of how you tickle the back of his throat with your tongue or due to the lack of air.

He wants to escape, to take a breather. However, despite your hands being tied down, that doesn’t prevent you from putting pressure on his crotch to keep him still. Pleas escape from his mouth as you continue pressing down.

Heizou’s not fighting back and it stresses him. Instead, he takes your tongue so obediently as if he’s not the one who has the power to keep you locked up.

He pants as you separate from him, head buckling down and trying to focus on standing up. The fact that everything he sees is his face doesn’t help.

“Oh, I love you. I want to keep you all for myself.” Heizou sees the lovesick eyes that focus on him.

It amazes him how you’re able to handle him so easily.

You let your mouth do all the talking. Your tongue licks every sensitive part of his body, trailing saliva all over him.

“Haaa—Fuck~” He feels his knees weaken.

“Make more of those sounds, Heizou. Let me hear you more. More, more, more…”

Your insanity is nothing to laugh at, and yet he follows exactly what you say.

He pulls at your hair, tugging at your scalp as feels the same tongue on his shaft. He cannot stand up for long, whimpering with each and slow agonizing lick. He’s aware that you want to hear him beg, to scream out how much he needs you to cum.

He bears being on the edge…until he starts to get desperate.

“Please…!”

“Please, what?”

He’s too drunk on the feeling of being edged that he can barely answer, only a stuttering mess as his cock rests in your mouth.

“M-More…N-Need to cum!”

His back meets the wall as he tries to stay on balance, holding onto your head. He keeps mewling, forgetting the reason why he’s here in the first place.

“That’s right, baby. I won’t let your dick forget, make you unable to cum without me.”

He tilts his head back as he cums, sweet noises flooding your ears. His thighs shake and he’s this close to hitting the floor hard if not for your assistance. He lays meekly on the floor, white drenching his legs.

“Sweet detective, so fucked dumb. Here I thought you were a genius.”

“H-Hard again—Want to cum…” Heizou replies, showing off his ass while starting to get on all fours.

“You’re fucking your stalker. Such a pervert, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’d let anyone get with you?”

Heizou whines as you say that. That’s not true at all, you just don’t understand. He wishes he could explain, but with the way he is right now, he doubts if that’ll be possible.

The noise that leaves Heizou’s mouth as you stretch his hole out and penetrate him is embarrassing. He sounds like an animal in heat like this is what he’s made for, to mate with your dick inside of him.

He quivers as he feels your hand on his back, pushing him down but in doing so, keeping his ass up as he pushes on his own deeper into you.

He breathes in between moans, your cock screwing into his walls while his cum spills easily on the floor.

“S-So good—C-Can’t think!”

“That’s right, squeeze your walls onto my cock. Remember my shape. You’ll be taking no one else’s but mine, my love.”

He thinks that you’re so vulgar with your words, your tone encourages Heizou into another orgasm.

He cries and shivers while he gets hit with it, his walls clenching tight.

Heizou’s body is so sensitive at this point, his body being as limp as it can be.

He flinches as you empty into him, your warmth dripping to his thighs since his tiny hole can’t take all of it.

He watches it in shame, wanting all of it, wanting every single drip to be contained inside of him. The look he gives is so seductive, it would put kitsunes to shame.

You thought of ending it but with that face he made, you reconsider this decision and flip him, having his face in front of you this time.

The detective doesn’t know what he’s just gotten himself into.

Heizou sees his own cum pool onto the ground, the tears blur his eyes, he can’t stop crying at how you pound so roughly into him.

He’s lost track of the time of how long he’s stayed in this god-forsaken room. The logical part of his brain should tell you to stop, if this keeps going on, he’ll for sure be unable to even walk himself to the bathroom. Unfortunately, his mouth says the complete opposite, blabbering and even encouraging you to keep going.

“Hmpf—! Cock—Too good!”

His nails grip the tatami as he cums again. He doesn’t know how he’s still able to go on when his clothes are soaked to the brim.

He hears you laugh again. “How about a change in profession? I heard the brothel’s hiring, detective.”

He understands you’re teasing. You would absolutely not let that happen, you would kill whoever lays their hands on Heizou.

For such a person with a small stature, he has quite the stamina and skill. He sheathes you in so easily, though of course, with the necessary moaning and gasping of your name. Not only that, he perfectly warms your cock like he’s been doing this for years.

“Shit. With how much cum you’re taking, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn up pregnant.” You say, spreading his ass to see his beautiful hole leaking cum.

“Please…” He cries out.

“Hm?”

“Please do…”

It doesn’t take much to rile you up. It’s also very obvious that anything Heizou says, you will follow.

You slam hard into Heizou, each thrust has it that the detective’s insides are being flipped, his guts being adjusted just so he could take more and more of you.

He can see your cock’s shape in his belly, his thin figure doing nothing to hide it. It’s starting to round up due to his belly that’s filled with your cum. You keep fucking him hard, until your load spills inside his walls.

When Heizou wakes up, he realizes that he can’t move an inch. He’s clean, his clothes are changed and he smells good.

He’s in your bedroom. He concludes this because he sees a glimpse of your strange room filled with things of his. With the amount of time he’s spent in there, he gets light-headed even from just thinking about it.

The doorknob turns and he sees you come in, a bowl of warm noodles in your hands.

He blinks.

You’re not wearing the handcuffs.

He wonders how you got out and where you put them instead.

He looks down.

Heizou sighs.

#plattered writings #heizou x reader #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub heizou #sub!heizou #heizou shikanoin

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wayward-dreamer · 7 months

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Hi, I was wondering if you could write a story where soilder boy is dating Y/n, and they start talking, and he asks her if she thinks he would be a good dad. Which leads to them talking about starting a family together. And then one of them says something along the lines of "Why don't we try now?" Then it turns into smut. If not it's okay, thanks!

Father Material

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Word count: 1,468

Summary: Curiosity from the public and media has Ben expressing his dream to be a father. Y/N wants to make his dream a reality.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, mentions of SB's nefarious actions, smut: dirty talk, rough sex, breeding kink.

A/N: This request has been in my inbox forever, so I apologise for long it took! I hope you like it Layla! Happy reading! :) Thanks to my besties/betas @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for looking over this. Sorry not sorry for killing you hehe

also there's plenty more Soldier Boy content on the way because apparently I've become an SB smut dealer lmaooo

“Do you think I’d make a good father?”

That was the question that sparked the sex marathon they had been in for hours now. Given that he was a supe, Soldier Boy had the stamina for withstanding just about anything, and if he had it his way he could probably last well into the night. She on the other hand was flagging quickly, the downside of being 100% human, but she really couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop. Not when he always knew just how to make her toes curl and her body quake with euphoric bliss. He may have known what buttons to push to get her going, but that didn’t mean their encounters were predictable. They were far from it, and that day was no exception.

The day started out like any other. He had meetings with hero management, followed by filming a commercial for Cracker Jack, which then led to interviews with different channels. She finally stepped out of their penthouse that night to join him on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, draped in an emerald green dress to match his suit, complete with gold accessories. Usually interviews weren’t really her favorite thing to do, but being America’s golden couple meant that they needed to be seen in public in order to keep that status. So they did what they always did. They laughed and joked with quick-witted Carson, charmed the audience and made the nation fall deeper for them with each caress of a hand or sweet kiss. Some may have thought it was just for the cameras, those cynical spectators that didn’t have any business commenting on what goes on behind closed doors, but they both knew the truth about their relationship.

They were in love. They had been since the moment he propositioned her in the elevator of the Vought American building, leading to one of the wildest nights she had ever had. Most would call it lust, but when you understood someone on a deeper level like they both did, it was most definitely love. A warped, messed up kind of love, but nonetheless, that’s what it was. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the kind of man he was, what he had to do during the war, and in Vought’s name since he joined their roster. She knew there were some off the books black ops missions he had gone on, even if she didn’t know the details. She heard the rumors about Dealey Plaza, too. She knew that he was fucked up despite his God fearing, all-American persona for the public, but she didn’t care.

In order to love someone like that, she had to be a little fucked up too. Well, more than a little.

Despite distracting everyone with their incredible charisma, questions of settling down and starting a family came up, and she knew she had to think of an answer fast when she saw Ben’s face go blank. With her biggest grin, she turned to Carson and said “Well, if anything happens Johnny, you’ll be the first to know!” They covered it up with hearty laughs as the audience joined in, along with the host, before he thanked them for their time to raucous applause.

The drive back to the Vought building was quiet, her concern growing for him until his words: “Do you think I’d make a good father?” broke the silence.

“Why do you ask?” she questioned in return, softly as to not scare him from broaching the subject.

“That fucking Carson,” he muttered, staring out the window at the bright lights. “I just… I guess he got me thinkin’, that’s all. Forget it.”

She wasn’t going to. She knew there was something he wanted to tell her, something he wanted of her, and she needed to know what it was.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinkin’ about… about how I’d do it better than my father ever did,” he confessed. “We’d make some perfect fucking kids, that’s for damn sure.”

She smiled softly, her hand curling over his as she slid across the backseat and pressed herself against his side. She nuzzled her nose along his jaw, leaving small kisses along his stubble as she reached his ear, her breath fanning against the shell as she whispered her own desire to do the same.

“Then let’s start right now.”

And that was how they found themselves in their bedroom twenty minutes later, with her holding herself up on her quivering hands and knees as he pounded into her from behind, his fingers digging into her skin with a bruising hold as his pelvis smacked against the curve of her ass. He had contorted her into every position possible since then for the last couple of hours, with barely a few minutes to breathe between each romp in the sheets. She had lost track of how many positions, and she was about to lose count of how many times he had spilled inside her, both of them getting closer to that release once more.

“Oh god, oh god!” she moaned wantonly, her forehead pressed against the mattress as her hands fisted the sheets. She was completely unbothered about how loud she was and the fact that people had probably heard them by now.

“No need to bring him into this, doll,” he chuckled, the sound broken up by his groans of pleasure. “Just me and you here…”

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” she mumbled, a guttural whimper escaping her at a particularly angled thrust against her g-spot.

“You fucking love it,” he countered, smirking as he suddenly pulled out of her.

Ignoring her whine of protest, Soldier Boy flipped her over onto her back and grabbed her legs, bending her in half as her calves rested on his shoulders, sliding back into her tight heat with a quick, hard thrust. The sounds that left them were nothing short of pornographic, as he began to pick up the pace with each push of his hips against her. He squeezed his eyes shut as her walls clenched around his throbbing cock, both of them balancing on the edge of their blissful climax, ready to go over at any minute.

“So fucking good, so fucking perfect, Y/N,” he growled, their faces close as he leaned over her. “You love the way I fuck you, don’t ya?”

“Yes!” she cried out, nodding frantically as she stared up into his green orbs. “Love the way you fuck me… you fuck me so good, Ben. So deep, and hard, wanna feel it for days.”

“Oh you will, sugar,” he groaned, between rough kisses against her lips. “Gonna fill you up, make you feel so full, make you full and round with my babies. You want that?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“Fuck, yeah you do,” he husked. “Tell me, tell me you want it.”

“I want it, I want it so bad, Ben,” she whimpered, the sound practically a sob with how desperate she was to finally let go. “I want you to fill me up, give it to me.”

“Cum for me, doll, soak my cock,” he said, looking deep into her eyes.

Y/N finally felt the dam breaking as a loud, shrieking moan escaped her, her walls contracting around his shaft as her arousal spread over him. He grunted loudly, his hips snapping harder against her, as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes fluttered, about to close, but her hands on his face stopped him, making him pay attention to her as their gazes locked. As she had with each time he had reached his peak that night, she stroked her thumbs along his jaw, slowly nodding her encouragement and desire to feel his seed deep inside her.

“S-Say it,” he stuttered, his neck straining as he held on just a little longer. “Fuckkk, s-say it-”

She bit her lip, knowing how it drove him crazy, before she parted them and uttered the words that sent him over the edge at the end of round that night.

“You’re gonna be a great dad… better than your own.”

Soldier Boy threw his head back, the veins in his neck pressing against his skin as he let out a guttural moan, his cock pulsing deep inside her tight canal. She moaned softly as she felt the warm spurts of his cum coat her walls, filling her up as he had done several times that night already. They both breathed heavily, trying to calm their racing hearts, neither of them wanting to move away from the other. He buried his face in her neck, planting soft pecks along her pulse point, bringing a smile to her face as they basked in the afterglow.

Both of them hoped that it wouldn’t be too much longer before their dream became a reality.

#reader request #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Smut #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader One Shot #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Soldier Boy Smut #Soldier Boy One Shot #Soldier Boy Fanfiction #The Boys Smut #The Boys One Shot #The Boys Fanfiction #Soldier Boy #the boys tv

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makeyoumine69 · 17 days

Text

A Helping Hand (commission)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: You and Patrick are engaged and about to become parents. One day, during a fancy party, you face the difficulties of being pregnant, as your changing body, affected by the hormones, hurts, but your future husband is always eager to help you.

CONTAINS: Semi-public smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, nipple play/sucking, pregnancy kink (kinda), fingering, praise kink, body worship, dirty talk, pet names, sweet & horny Patrick Bateman himself.

WORDS: 1.6k

A/N: I'm so happy to finally post this! Hope you like it!💞

LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [COMISSIONS]

After a lavish party on the roof of one of Manhattan's skyscrapers hosted by the Bateman family, the sun was setting and it was getting a little chilly, so the waiters brought everyone blankets to keep warm. You, wrapped in a blanket, sat next to your fiance on the small plush couch, waiting for the car to pick you up and take you home.

Sipping your hot chocolate that had been made specially for you, you looked at him with undisguised affection and embarrassment as you wanted to ask him a question. "Patrick, I... I'm so embarrassed that I... you know... bite and scratch you during sex. Is that a bad thing? I just don't think you like it..."

Thank God the other guests weren't paying any attention to you, but you still felt uncomfortable. Patrick's family was also out of sight, probably talking to someone on the balcony. However, you had already shown your appreciation for hosting such a great event.

While you waited for his answer, you stroked your little baby bump, your breasts already got bigger, so the dress you were wearing was too tight and your nipples could be seen through the fabric.

Patrick paused for a moment, considering your question with a thoughtful look that slowly changed to an approving one. The embarrassment in your voice was clear, but it only served to amuse him.

"(Y/n)," he began, sliding closer to you on the small plush couch, "your... enthusiasm is one of your most exquisite attributes." He placed a hand on your knee, his fingers tracing small circles through the fabric of the blanket that covered you. "I revel in your responsiveness, Kitten." His grin grew wider, a clear indication that your concerns were unfounded.

"Really?" You murmured back, averting your eyes, still feeling so uncomfortable. "I just remember how meticulous you are about your skin and stuff."

The man leaned closer, lowering his voice so it was just for you, a husky whisper that brushed against your ear. "Let's be honest," his eyes glittered with a mischievous spark as he bit his lip lightly, teasing you. "You know how much I enjoy making a mess of you."

"Oh, Patrick…" You giggled shyly and rolled your eyes.

Bateman’s hand moved from your knee, daringly creeping up the blanket to rest on your slightly swollen belly, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of your dress. The tautness of your nipples, visible through the strained material, did not escape his notice. "These marks," he continued, his gaze flickering down to where your breasts strained against the dress, "they are a powerful reminder of the intensity we share. And I wouldn't have it any other way." Patrick smirked while his touch grew bolder, fingers skimming the outline of your baby bump before sliding up to the outline of your breasts.

The sudden tingling in your nipples made you squirm in your seat; his words always had such an effect on you. "Patty," you pleaded suddenly, placing your cup on the nearby table and looking around briefly before continuing. "My... my nipples hurt... can you help me with that?" Embarrassed, you lifted the blanket, suggesting that it could hide both of you and no one would see you, since no one was around so far. "Sorry for asking," you added, averting your eyes, ashamed as ever. "It's just...the hormones...I didn't want to tell you…"

Excited, Patrick's lips curved into a knowing smirk at your bashful plea. The fiery blend of your embarrassment and the raw need that spilled from your words was a concoction he savored with every fiber of his being. Sneakily, he cast a cursory glance around the room, ensuring the relative privacy, before refocusing on you with the predatory gaze of a man who thrived on such deliciously improper requests.

"Do they hurt really bad, hmmm?” he echoed, his voice a low, silky ribbon of sound that wound its way around you with the tender brutality of a python. "And here I was thinking you'd have the restraint to wait until we were home. But if my little girl is in pain..." The man leaned closer, the scent of your arousal mingling with the warm, sweet aroma of the hot chocolate you had abandoned. "You want me to make it better?" the man questioned, his breath fanning over your skin as he lifted the blanket to create a hidden sanctuary for your naughtiness. "You always were sensitive to my words, Kitten. Can't say I'm not pleased to hear they still affect you so... intimately."

Panting, you bit on your lower lip to suppress any noises which could discredit you. "Yes," you closed your eyes and sprawled along the softness of the couch. "You know how to play with words…" gasping, you trembled beneath his hot breath. "...to set me on fire."

Under the guise of the blanket, Patrick's hand drifted to the fabric of your dress, deftly unbuttoning it just enough to allow him access to the tender flesh you so desperately wanted him to soothe. His fingers brushed against your skin, feeling the hard nubs of your nipples straining for his touch. "Is it so?"

Grabbing the plush material of the furniture, you were about to lose it here and now. "Mmm…y-yes….ah-Patrick!"

"Shh, baby," Bateman didn't falter, not even as he looked once more over his shoulder to ensure no eyes were upon you. "I’ve got you."

Then, with a dexterity honed by numerous clandestine encounters, he ducked under the cover of the blanket, his mouth closing over one aching nipple with a gentle suction that belied the fervor within him. The warm wetness of his mouth enveloped you, his tongue tracing the sensitive bud before drawing it further into the heat of his oral embrace. Purring softly, the man suckled with a rhythmic persistence, each pull designed to alleviate the tender ache as much as to stoke the flame of your shared desire.

Above the blanket, he maintained the expression of a man casually enjoying the evening with his fiancée, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch, the very picture of nonchalance. Beneath it, however, Patrick was entirely focused on you, on the softness of your breasts, the sweetness of your need, and the sound of your subdued moans as they were muffled by the fabric that concealed your indiscretion.

"Better now, Kitten?" Bateman murmured against your flesh, a dark chuckle vibrating through your nipple, sending shivers down your spine. His free hand wandered to your other breast, kneading it softly, ensuring that both received the attention they demanded.

The way his tongue danced across your hard peak was maddening, to say the least. “Uh-huh,” you stammered, closing your eyes, your cheeks burning from the inside. Then, you cautiously grabbed his large palm and moved it between your legs, making it press against your soaked panties. "I need you, n-need you so much, Patty."

Breathing heavily, you looked up at him, knowing that what you were doing was wrong and sinful, but the storm of hormones from being pregnant raged through your morphing body, making you a prisoner of the current situation.

Fortunately, you were still alone, and the car hadn't arrived yet. “A-aww,” you whimpered into his mouth as Patrick sealed your lips with his plump ones, not letting the sound escape from them. “Mhmnn…”

It was a silencing kiss, a masterful stroke of control that muffled your moan. Under the protective shroud of the blanket, his hand maneuvered beneath the delicate barrier of your underwear, his fingers tracing the soaked lace before delving into the slick heat of your pussy.

The soft, wet sound of his fingers sliding through your folds was nearly lost beneath the hush of your ragged breaths. Hot and bothered, Patrick pulled back from the kiss just enough to watch your face, your eyes fluttering closed, your lips parted in silent supplication.

"You're so wet, honey," Bateman whispered, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shudder through you. "This is what you need from me, isn't it? To be touched right here...where anyone could see what a bad girl you're being for me?"

The pressure of his fingers increased, finding your swollen clit, teasing it with a firm, circular motion that drew a whimper from you. "Be quiet, Kitten," he advised, his voice carrying an undercurrent of threat and promise. "Or you'll force me to stop, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Your hand gripped his wrist, a silent entreaty not to cease his ministrations. Patrick's chest swelled with a possessive pride—you were his to command, even amidst this semi-public setting. Your need for him, a need he had so thoroughly ingrained in you, was a testament to his mastery over your senses.

Your eyes met, his holding a compelling blend of dark yearning and authoritative control. Patrick’s fingers quickened their pace, coaxing you closer to the brink as he watched the storm of emotions play across your tensed face.

Patrick leaned in once more, his lips hovering over yours, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke. "Cum for me, (y/n). Quietly, right here on this couch. Let me feel you shatter against my hand." His words, laced with an illicit thrill, were a command that brooked no refusal.

And as Bateman brought you to the edge, as he felt the clenching and unclenching of your inner walls around his probing fingers, he savored the power he wielded. In the luxury of the waiting room, under the soft golden lights of the city outside, this man was the master of your pleasure—a master who would be worshiped in silence, in awe, and with the unspoken understanding that you belonged to him, completely and irrevocably, no matter where you were.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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shieldofiron · 7 months

Note

Hello

But what about Steve who got kicked out by his parents when he came out as bi and somehow made it to California and ends up doing sex work and finds it is something he is good at and having a huge dick is good for something for a change. He also does some high end escort work too cos he knows all the etiquette stuff, thanks to his upbringing.

He's got his regulars, men and women, and a little apartment and there's this golden guy who looks like a freaking god who goes past every morning on a run, super early, when Steve has a coffee on his balcony. Steve starts thinking about him when he's jerking off or when he's with clients, he can't help himself.

And then one day he shows up at this fancy hotel to be some rich guy's escort for the night and it's the guy he's been seeing run past his balcony every morning.

Mr Hargrove, CEO of something.

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about just now while I was waiting for you to tell me the super sad bit of your idea.

The request is kind of weird.

Normally people request him in lingerie, something filmy and sexy that frames his body. When it's not that it's suits, from a casual sports coat all the way to a tuxedo, and he keeps it all in his closet.

"You know what it means?" Angela's gum snaps on the phone.

"Green basketball shorts?" Steve scratched his temple, "Not really. I think I have some from high school."

"Well, if they're tight," Angela said, "And he said sneakers. High white socks."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Okay. Weirdo. Did he say anything about sex acts?"

"Anal," Her gum pops.

"No shit, it's a guy," Steve rolls his eyes.

"He just asked what you looked like, honestly. Wanted a guy with brown eyes, brown hair, real pretty," Angela clicked her long nails against the counter, "Other than the outfit he wasn't too talkative. Sexy ass voice. He requested you specifically. Got all perked up when I said the name. Stephan the King only."

Steve shrugged, "Okay. Whatever."

Most of the time he wasn't too concerned with what his clients wanted. He was flexible in more ways that one, happy to bottom or top or escort them to the opera or just listen. Most of the time, the job was just listening, even during sex. Finding out what people liked and being that came naturally to him. He was good at bullshit, as Nancy would say. He was a great hooker.

He'd made his job bullshit. He got paid an ungodly amount by the hour to spread his legs or spread someone else's, and he was good at it. Hooked up with an agency that specialized in high quality work, and kept the total weirdos away from him.

His roommate Jason Carver had a good hand with the weirdos anyway. He was always getting the odd calls where he had to dress up in costumes and came home to their apartment at odd hours, covered in weird substances, his legs shaky until Steve made him take a shower. Last night it had been grape jelly.

And so here Steve was, not covered in jelly, sitting in a plush hotel room in Malibu with his Hawkins high shorts pushed down his thighs, trying to finger himself and thinking about his favorite spank bank material.

Steve didn't know the guy's name, but he called him the runner. Always running at 5 am, long blonde curls streaming behind him. He looked like the models on the covers of those Johanna Lindsay romance novels, the practically-bondage porn that he'd devoured in high school during sleepless nights.

He imagined the running slowing down when he got to Steve's balcony, his bronze skin gleaming and his blonde beard hiding a devilish smirk.

The smirk may be borrowed... maybe the shorts have him remembering some other sleepless nights in high school.

Steve is loose, last night he was working with a couple, and so he's pretty stretched out, which means he can concentrate on just relaxing, brushing his fingers ever so softly over his prostate as he imagines the runner smirking, his voice a hazy blend of movie stars and devilish California drawling.

He kicks up his feet on the bed, working himself shamelessly in time with his finger's motions. He rolls the tip of his pointer over the small nub of his prostate while he works a fourth finger inside.

The alarm on his watch goes off and he makes a winded noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. He was just getting to the good part of the fantasy, where the runner would position him, ass up, over his tiny Venice balcony and eat him out like he was trying to make Steve cum before the dawning of the apocalypse. He would rub his face all over that golden beard, ride him like a stallion. Steve rode his fingers through one more wave, heat crashing down his spine, before he pulled out, tugging up his shorts over his painful erection and rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands and check his hair.

He didn't have to do all this prep but it made his job more enjoyable. Most clients didn't want to go through a lot of foreplay, obviously. But he did like coming too, and it wasn't like he was taking ten clients a night. Might as well have fun.

He was all positioned on the bed when the guy came in. Ready for the masc fantasy, legs spread, his arms on his knees. His dick was lewdly outlined by the tiny shorts, but he guessed they weren't going to the opera so that should be okay.

"In here," He called out, holding his breath until the guy came around the corner.

That devilish smirk fell right to pieces.

"Harrington," The man gasped, the word more breath than it was noise.

"Billy??"

"What are you doing here? Is it Max? Is she okay?" Billy's face is vulnerable, pale under his golden beard.

Steve thinks of the last time they'd seen him, driving off into the dead of the night while Max had cried. She'd begged for Steve's help to move Billy out, and the last he'd seen of Billy Hargrove it was just him chuffing Max on the chin, telling her to be brave.

"She's okay, I..." Steve shook his head, "I'm just here to meet a client."

"Client..." Billy ran a hand over his eyes, and then dropped it over his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry, they must have given me the wrong key at the front I'm supposed to meet-"

"Killian Handcock?"

Steve froze.

"Yeah," Billy sighed, "That's me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look, sorry for all this. I'll pay, of course, for your time," Billy began to dig in the pocket of his suit jacket.

"No, whoa, it's okay," Steve waved his hands, "It's okay."

"Obviously, you wouldn't-"

"We can still-"

Billy blinked at him.

"I just mean. It's fine, right. We know why we're here," Steve glances down at his outfit, "You really didn't know it was me?"

"Fuck," Billy dragged a hand down his face, "This is so fucking humiliating."

"No, really," Steve chuckled, "What high school crush am I supposed to be?"

The words are out of his mouth before he's fully able to think them through. It's all obvious later but in the moment, he's thinking of all the guys in their school with brown eyes... brown hair... real pretty...

Billy moves towards him, his face flashing angrily, and then he rears back, nearly slamming into the giant tv that dominates the far wall.

Startle response, Steve remembered from when Billy came back. If he so much as put his hands towards someone he would flinch, remembering what the Mind Flayer made him do.

Steve wasn't being a very good hooker. He wasn't listening. Wasn't thinking.

"You know," Steve sat back on the bed slowly, no quick movements. "I used to read these romance novels in high school. Kind of cheesy, definitely NOT always with the best consent. But... sometimes they'd have these tough guys, kind of take charge guys. And I used to imagine you... taking charge of me."

Billy just blinks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Steve spread his legs, just casually.

"Is that what you used to imagine too?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," Billy says in a cracked voice.

"Tell me," Steve urged.

It takes Billy a moment, fumbling with his fancy wool jacket. He hasn't flashed the cash yet, but Richard Harrington's son recognizes an expensive suit when he sees it. Billy's got the money to pay.

Not that Steve's thinking much about payment when Billy starts talking, in that movie star drawl.

"Wanted you to fuck me. Me to fuck you. Wanted to turn you inside out and shake you like pants at the laundromat," Billy whispered, "See what falls out."

Steve bit off a moan that wasn't practiced, wasn't planned. They haven't touched for years. Not since after Starcourt, careful touches around Billy's healing body, friendly, boyish nudges. Nothing like this.

"Wanted to touch you," Billy's face is so raw with longing, blue eyes sparking, it's almost hard to look at, "Touch you all up and down those long legs. Wrap you around me like a scarf. Keep me warm. Indiana's cold as shit and you always looked so warm."

Steve spread his legs further, "I run hot."

Billy reached back and undoes his hair, and it's only as it streams down his shoulders that Steve realizes, almost chuckling if it wasn't for the open, bare way Billy's looking at him. Like Steve is some kind of dream come true.

And the thing is that Steve's a happy hooker. He's not looking for any pretty woman ending.

But... you know sometimes he imagines. Imagines a guy with long blonde hair pulling him close after sex and calling him honey, baby, sweetness.

Billy takes a step forward and Steve smiles at him.

"I'm assuming you don't want me scared, or nervous," Steve runs a hand up his knee.

Billy shakes his head.

"Boyfriend experience," Steve offers, but it doesn't sound like a question, because he's not asking.

Billy's telling him, in the trembling hand that finally finds it's way to Steve's knee, the heavy swallow when Steve tips his head back, letting Billy into his space.

Steve knows. He's listening.

"This a... you have rules..." Billy's voice is gruff, low. Barely heard over the hum of the ac and the distant traffic from the street below.

"I kiss," Steve cocks his head to the side, "I do just about anything. For you."

He runs his hand over the back of Billy's, just tracing the road map of his veins. The long route that led them both here.

"Billy," Steve breathes.

It was just like he imagined Billy Hargrove would kiss. Hard and rough and desperate, like they were about to be ripped apart. Maybe they were, because Steve was clinging too, and it wasn't bullshit. He was shocked to find it was true, every word of it.

He fell open on the bed, half smothered by Billy's bulk, and he reveled in it, wrapping his legs around Billy and tugging him until his full weight pressed Steve to the bed.

Billy broke their kiss with a rough pant against Steve's lips, "Don't wanna crush you, Pretty Boy."

Steve urged, tugging Billy harder, "What a way to go."

Billy's laugh felt different close up, and his beard was softer than it looked, tickling Steve's face. His kiss was hot, and he sank into Steve like a hot knife through butter.

Steve was used to having to work himself up, he forgot what a revelation it was to just kiss. They rolled around together like they invented it, gasping at tugging nips and sucked tongues like they had never done this shit before.

Billy cradled his face like he was trying to memorize it, barely even dry humping him.

And Steve was losing it a little, because the boyfriend experience never felt like this. Never felt like years of knowledge and a "be brave, shitbird."

Never like this.

He undressed Billy like his life depended on it, running his hands up and down Billy's scars and feeling like he could cry, or laugh or something. Somehow, Billy was now the slow one, holding him carefully, like Steve might break. And Steve was the animal, the cyclone, kissing Billy hard, rubbing up on him like a cat in heat.

Because it was Billy, Billy Hargrove, and he was murmuring about honey and sweetheart, and he was begging Steve in soft words to just, "let me take care of you, that's all I want. Want to wrap those legs around my head and drown in 'ya, Harrington."

Steve shook his head, trembling when Billy rolled his hands around Steve's cock through the shorts, pulling Billy closer with his legs.

"I'm ready," Steve whispered, "Want you inside of me. Please, Billy, let's not wait."

"M'Pretty Boy," Billy whispered back, sounding tortured. His brows were drawn up as if in pain, and he cradled Steve's cheek in one hand.

"Billy," Steve pulled Billy back by that long gorgeous hair, "Just fuck me. Please, God, I really want you to fuck me, please."

Billy had a slightly troubled look, but he nodded, tugging at Steve's shorts with gentle hands, chuckling softly when Steve reaches down and yanks them off roughly, losing them in the rumpled bed instantly.

Steve just rolled his legs up, not wanting to part before he gets into position and-

"Condoms," Billy gasped, his eyes jolting to Steve's face.

"Yes... fuck... sorry, yes, I have some, they're on the nightstand."

It's like dousing them both with ice water. Billy pulls back, looking at Steve and then looking down.

They sit there a moment.

"I want you to know," Billy said in a cracked voice after a long pause, his back to Steve. "I'm not a creep. I haven't thought of you in... in a long time. I don't like... hire guys and make them pretend to be you or nothing like that. I just..."

Steve waits, just listening. After a while he reaches a hand out and putting it on Billy's shoulder, rubbing slightly.

"I'm not a creep. I'm not gonna follow you home and t-throw you in a trunk or something-"

"Stop," Steve said, rubbing Billy's back in slow circles. "I don't think that."

"I just mean.... I'll pay," Billy said it gruffly, "If you have another client tonight, you gotta rush, that's ok. But if you have the night, I'll pay."

Steve looks down, catching a glimpse of Billy's hands, tangled together in his lap, holding the condom that he grabbed from the bedside table. He's just as beautiful as he used to be, maybe more so. He's got a layer of fat over his muscles that makes him look softer, his hair is long and soft, and even the beard, it takes away all his rough edges.

"I don't have to rush," Steve said. "Why'd you have me dress up, Billy?"

"I just saw someone, the other day. Been seeing him. In Venice. This guy, he's always wearing these loose robes and he hangs out on his balcony in the morning," Billy bit his lip, "Sometimes with a blonde guy. Boyfriend or something. Anyway, he kinda looks like you. And my boyfriend dumped me like a year ago, because I'm still a total freakshow. Issues on issues on issues. So I thought, fuck it. Why don't I just... be the freakshow I am."

"You're not a freakshow."

Billy chuckles, "Trust me. I am. Pining after a high school... nothing. You didn't even like me."

"I-"

"Don't pretend," Billy looks at him, eyes glistening, "Don't you bullshit me, Harrington."

"I'm not," Steve says, heart in his throat. "I'm not bullshitting. Haven't been from the moment you walked in here."

Billy says nothing, just looking at him.

"I don't have to rush," Steve shook his head. "And if tomorrow, you just leave, and there's money on the stand... that's totally cool. But I'm rushing because... because..."

Billy just watches. Listens.

"Because I'm really glad to see you again, Billy. Really glad. And I wouldn't mind," Steve steels himself for rejection, sucking in a breath. "Seeing you after tonight."

Billy's brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands again.

"Like... maybe for real. And I can wear actual clothes. And no one has to pay anyone. And I'll know who you are. You'll know who I am. And I'll take you back to Venice to meet my roommate, who you already fucking know, I think."

Billy's blinking hard, and it takes Steve a moment to realize he's crying.

"Billy," He whispers, "Honey. Sweetheart."

Billy reaches out and cradles Steve's cheeks, pulling him into his lap and then into a kiss.

"I don't think you're a creep, Billy," Steve wraps his legs around Billy, and holds him safe and warm, "I know you. I know you."

Billy makes a wounded noise, like he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he starts running his hands down Steve's chest, tugging on his chest hair and rolling his nipples between his fingers, and Steve goes kind of cock dumb and wild again, rolling his hips, seeking to get closer. He wants Billy to press him to the bed, crush him with his weight.

It's just a happy blur, punctuated by moments of crystal clear sweetness. Billy presses his cock inside of Steve after a long, leisurely, lovely trip between Steve's legs. It turns out his tongue really is magic like the girls used to write on the bathroom walls. Steve's heart is beating like a jackhammer and he's sweating like he did so long ago in high school, his hair flopping in his face as Billy drives into him hard.

"You used to look so fuckin' cute in these little shorts," Billy growled, "Put them on again. Wanna push them to the side, get you all fucked out and gorgeous. Want you to cum in them, pressed all up against the waistband."

And maybe Jason's rubbing off on Steve because he does, slides the somewhat wrecked shorts over his sweaty ass and flops back on the bed. He practically presents his ass on a Hawkins green platter, moaning all slutty.

"Used to dream about them every night," Billy rubs him through the shorts, "Used to think about you in the hospital. When you would wear that fucking family video vest and come drive Max. You got me through physical therapy."

Steve looked over his shoulder, still working his ass back on Billy's cock, "I still have the vest."

"Fuck... fuck..." Billy actually covers his face with his hands, "Is this real? This is real right, not fake bullshit?"

Steve's literally got a cock in his ass, and it's normally not how he does stuff, but he looks back, because seriously?

"Billy. I said I wanna see you? I like you? Now can you please keep fucking me, I'm so close."

Billy finally smiles that smile, that devilish grin, "At your service, Sweetheart."

And then he rocks his hips up and back in a way that presses right against that sweet spot that makes Steve see stars. He cums so hard it does soak into the shorts like Billy said, and Billy rubs it in messily, groaning and pressing his head to Steve's back.

Steve goes boneless on the bed, not even moving when Billy pulls his softening cock out and gets up.

There's a moment when Steve's heart skips a beat that he thinks Billy's gonna slap down an envelope of cash and ask him to leave. And that would be fine. Could be totally fine.

But instead he tugs the covers back and helps Steve under, wrapping his arms around Steve and holding him close to his heart.

"You meant that, about seeing me again?" Billy says softly.

"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Steve plays with the silver medallion that hangs across Billy's collarbone.

"Yeah, I was listening," Billy kisses Steve's temple softly, and Steve's heart flutters like a cartoon duck. "How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I got a good amount, let's give someone the tip of their life. And I think you need waffles. Pancakes. Whatever the hell you want."

Normally, Steve would call bullshit. But Billy's got a Cartier tank ticking where he tucks a sweaty lock behind Steve's ear. And he knows Billy. He trusts him.

Steve tugs on the necklace until Billy gets the hint and draws him into another filthy kiss.

Steve's normally a pretty good hooker. He's not looking for a Pretty Woman ending.

But it turns out he's a bit of a sucker for the boyfriend experience.

---

This got WAY long. I'll proably put it up on ao3. @intothedysphoria and @dragonflylady77 be proud of me plz.

#asks #harringrove #my writing #shieldofiron #SW Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Billy x Steve #Steve x Billy #bratty steve harrington #bear billy hargrove #otter steve harrington

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e-dubbc11 · 5 months

Note

this is my first time doing a sleepover 😭😭 im gonna be honest, every ask i'll send will probs be billy russo 🥹✨

❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜

for this hoe pleaseeeeee

Hello my lovely! Well, I mixed up the asks(I’m mad about it and can’t believe I did that) and pasted the fic with the above prompt into the other ask. I am so so sorry for mixing them up, I’m happy they both came from you though.♥️

So the prompt for the below fic is “shut up and just let me help you!”

Again, I apologize for mixing them up but thank you again for sending in your asks and thank you for being a part of my sleepover. ♥️

You Are Not Alone

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: couple of swear words, angst, description of wounds, mention of weapons, alludes to smexy time, and of course fluff.

Word Count: 980

Summary: Billy comes home late, injured and tries to patch himself up without waking you.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Billy struggled to unlock and open the door with his right hand. The blood started to pool, darkening the material of his black jacket, it dripped down his arm, and peeked out from under the sleeve. The bullet was still inside and he was in a lot of pain. He winced as he turned the door knob and stepped inside.

It was late and more than likely, you were fast asleep in his bed.

Biting back the discomfort, he tried to move quietly into the main bathroom of the penthouse where he kept his first aid supplies for times like this.

The gunshot wound continued to throb under his jacket. He needed to get the bullet out but he was going to have to use his non-dominant hand to do it and he would also have to do it without waking you.

Billy didn’t want you to see him like this, covered in blood and dirt. The dried blood on his hands was not his, the spatter across his face wasn’t his either. Their mission tonight was reminiscent of missions during the war, very clandestine, under the cover of night, and in disguise. If anyone got close to him, their death was quick but not painless.

He made sure of that.

The deep stab wounds to the man’s back had punctured his lungs and Billy had given him a new “smile” across his throat. The smell of blood was thick all around him as he watched his enemy gasp for air and then collapse at his feet, soaking the earth underneath him.

He appreciated that you didn’t ask too many questions when it came to jobs like this one. You just told him to be careful so he could come home to you.

Those words play over and over in his head. “Just be safe, Billy. I need you to come home to me.”

When he removed his jacket, Billy saw the bullet wound in the light for the first time. He would be fine after taking the bullet out but it would be challenging.

Clenching his teeth, then biting his knuckles, he tried to keep from crying out in pain when he let the alcohol run over the wound but it was just loud enough for you to hear him.

Your eyes fluttered open and you sat bolt upright in bed. The space next to you was cold and empty where Billy should be but he wasn’t. The noise you heard was coming from the bathroom.

“Billy?” You called out softly, slipping on his hoodie.

No answer.

The cool air touched your bare legs as your feet touched the floor and you started to tip toe out of the bedroom.

“FUCK!” He yelled and whispered at the same time.

Turning the corner, you saw the faint glow of the bathroom light through the crack in the door.

“Billy? Are you ok?” You asked from behind the door.

Gently pushing it open, you heard him call out, “Don’t come in here, baby.”

Of course, you didn’t listen and pushed the door open anyway.

“Billy—“ You saw the blood dripping down his arm, coming from the hole that was there and it startled you.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “Is the bullet still in there?! Why are you not at the hospital?”

“I’m fine, sweet girl. I am. Go back to bed.” He said, calmly.

“Uh, yeah—fat chance, handsome. Let me help you.” You told him sternly as you picked up the rubbing alcohol.

He grabbed the alcohol bottle out of your hand. With raised eyebrows, he glared at you with his dark mysterious eyes that looked like two cups of espresso.

“I said I’m fine, y/n.” He said sharply through gnashed teeth.

Billy still needed reminding that he wasn’t alone anymore and he didn’t have to do everything himself. He had someone to help him with whatever he needed.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll come to bed when—“ He started to say before you cut him off.

“Shut up and just let me take care of you!!!” You said in a frustrated tone. “You can’t get that bullet out by yourself so shut it, soldier and let me help!”

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” Asked Billy, narrowing his eyes and then flashing his perfect smile at you.

“You are such a stubborn asshole sometimes, Billy Russo! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to do everything by yourself! I love you and I’m here to HELP YOU!” You growled in his face.

He gently pressed his forehead against yours. “Number one, you turn me on when you yell at me like that so even though I’m wounded and in pain, we’ll give it a go when we’re done in here and number two…” He said with a wicked smile and then paused briefly.

Billy kissed the tip of your nose and with his eyes locked on yours said, “I love you too, sweet girl. I’ve done everything alone for so long, sometimes I feel like I still have to.”

“Well let me remind you again that you don’t.” You said, compressing your lips against his, one of your hands reached up to cup his cheek while his tongue pressed against your teeth, begging for access to yours.

He smiled warmly as he pulled away and asked, “Wait…can you remind me one more time?”

He winked at you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Just hold still and let me get that bullet out, lieutenant.” You said, reaching for the alcohol and the surgical pliers.

Billy kissed you again.

“Well, be gentle. I’m not puttin’ out if you hurt me.” He said, chuckling a little.

Silently, you said “you can trust me,” before replying,

“I will never hurt you, my love.”

And you meant that…in every way.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @ittybxttykxttytxtty @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #ericca answers #winter sleepover 2024

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stargirlsmooch · 1 year

Note

hii! i'm here to request a little something.. maybe abby and reader are friends and they're getting ready for a party one of their friends is throwing. they're at reader's house and reader could ask abby to help her with her dress or something? friends to lovers. could be something cute or smut! :33 thank youuu<33

i love this!!!! ive thought about doing something cute and sweet like this for a while so... mwhahahahahah cute? smut? cute? smut??? hmmmmmmmm...

warning: im a psycho for a daddy kink, 1 titty spank and dirty talk, you suck on abby's thumb

abby checked the time on her phone again. 7:36pm. the party had started a little over an hour ago... and although abby didn't care too much about being a little fashionably late, you were pushing it a little.

you walked up to the mirror with your 4th shirt change of the night... your little black skirt and your doc martens not budging, "okay, I think I like this one."

fucking finally. abby doesn't say it out loud, she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, but her knees are starting to cramp up and her ass hurts from sitting on the chair at your vanity for almost an hour, watching you go back and forth between your wardrobe and the mirror.

jumping up out of her seat, she pats the back pocket of her cargo pants, double-checking she has her keys before heading for your bedroom door, "perfect, babe. let's go."

"wait."

please say you're kidding. abby slowly spins back towards you, little tears pooling in the outer corners of your eyes as you smooth your hands on the material covering the tops of your thighs, "I dunno..."

"don' know bout what, sweets?" she edged forward, putting a hand gently on your shoulder and maneuvering you until you were facing her. "you look gorgeous. now lets go, okay?"

you deflated a little more as you peeked around her at your reflection... the shirt was tight, hugging the places you didn't need to be hugged and making you want to cover you middle with your hands. you tried your hardest to keep them locked on your sides, put slowly they were running up your front to cover your tummy.

it was impossible to not notice your movements and the way insecurity shined in the tears dripping down your face, "I don't know if i wanna go, abs."

abby nearly started tearing up herself at the sight of your vulnerability, the softness she carried for you deep in the pit of her heart almost bubbling over.

she stepped closer, stunning you and your eyes widened.

she reached for the hem of your shirt. "now I don't know what has happened." she pulls it up over your head. "for you to feel like you arent the most beautiful girl". and throws it on the floor. "in the whole world... but you are, baby."

something in the air shifted, your chest started rising quicker as abby's fingers unzipped your skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

youre standing right there, braless and in just your panties and doc martens (fuck that's hot), your smooth skin on perfect display and abby can't stop herself from letting out a low groan at the sight of you. wanted this forever.

abby has always had a soft spot for her sweet roommate. a deep love that she had never let out of the safe space of her head- you were too precious to get wrapped up in her. abby didn't have what was necessary to be a good girlfriend, and that's all she wanted to be for you.

but right now, she didn't care about being good, she cared about making you feel good.

"god, you have no idea how fucking sexy you are, do you?"

you ducked your head, digging your boot-covered toe into the carpet and watching a little ripple develop as you bit your bottom lip, hiding the noises of embarrassment wanting to ease out of your throat. standing almost-naked in front of your roommate wasn't a normal experience.

"this pretty fucking mouth," she lifted your head up by your chin before circling your lips with her thumb, "you're such a sweet girl. i bet if I slipped my thumb inside you'd just start... there you go, baby."

your eyes rolled back into your skull as you took her thumb into your mouth, wrapping your glossy lips around it and sucking gently. "mmm..."

abby chuckled at you as your hands wrapped around her wrist, keeping her close, before she pulled her hand away abruptly, leaving your mouth empty and needy for more.

"abby..."

"shh, baby. i'm admiring you, so let me."

the next thing you knew, your underwear was torn from your body and your dripping pussy was on show for her. you whined as cold air hit your most sensitive part, almost reaching a hand down to toy with your clit and relieve the building pleasure.

"i love your hair, baby. bet you'd love for me to pull on hit as I fuck that sweet little pussy from behind, huh? tell me I'm right... tell daddy she's right."

"mhm.. shit, you're right, daddy, " you whispered as you reached behind and grabbed abby's hips, gently driving your ass back into her.

"yeah? and don't get me started on these tits," she delivered a harsh smack to one of your breasts, watching the red welts from her fingers erupt on your perfect skin, "you want me to suck on them don't you, baby? suck on them until ive bruised these pretty nipples."

"mhm! yes, daddy, please!"

abby ignored you, her smile widening as she continued. "but my favourite thing, is this tight little pussy, baby. and you're gonna bend over right now and take these fucking fingers, arent you?"

"yes, daddy."

;)

#abby anderson smut #hann answers #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou

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kylelovskii · 1 year

Note

Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to request if that's alright! And I hope that the requests are open, if not, you can totally ignore this!

So I wanted to request smut for Kyle, Kenny & Tweek react to their girlfriend wear a lingerie?

Tysm! Have a lovely day/night and take care!!!

i’m doing well! thank you for asking. you’re not bothering at all, either! i love writing for people. requests are always open.

i love this idea! you have an awesome day or night as well!! 💗💗

tw!! smut (kind of), suggestive themes, sub kyle, sub tweek, dom kenny, hints of a blow job, kyle wears glasses bc i say so, fingering, panties used as a gag lolol, if i miss any lmk!!

kyle !

⭐️ i feel like he’d enjoy some green or brown lingerie

⭐️ is totally nervous when you show him

⭐️ just becomes a huge mess when you sit down on top of him

“okay, kyle, open your eyes.”

and he does, removing his hands from his face so he can see.

he goes beet red, immediately covering his eyes again.

you laugh, strutting over to him and taking your place on his lap. “what’s wrong? let me see you.”

he sighs when he feels your weight on top of him. you reach up and gently remove his hands. “look, i even got your favorite color.”

he whines and looks away, screwing his eyes shut. “kyle if you don’t quit closing your eyes, i’ll give you a reason to,” you snap at him.

“i’m sorry, you just make me nervous,” he mutters, looking down at his hands, then quickly back up at you. you laugh, “oh, hon. i know.”

you reach your hands up his white t-shirt, rubbing your hands up and down his sides. he whimpers and tries to keep his eyes on you, his face getting redder by the second.

“why don’t you take off your hat,” you tell him. it’s less of a question, more of a demand. he lets out a sigh and lifts his shaky hand to pull it off his head. his red curls fall free, cupping his face perfectly.

“take off your glasses for me, too,” you say, moving your hands up to his chest, making him squirm. he whines at this, taking both hands this time, even shakier than before. he slowly removes his glasses and places them carefully on the table beside the couch.

“you’re being very whiny..why’s that?” you ask, slithering off kyle and down to your knees in between his legs. “i’m just..anxious. y-you look so good, it’s making me nervous.”

you unzip his pants, tugging them down, his hard on now very visible. you giggle at his reply, “well, why don’t we fix that for you?”

he laughs nervously as you start to pull down his boxers. his cock springs free and you kiss the tip, making him whine, “ohh god..”

“shh, kyle. let me make you feel good.”

kenny !

⭐️ i feel like he’d love black lingerie

⭐️ when she sees you, he gets a sense of power like “wow i can do anything i want to that woman.”

⭐️ definitely gets all cocky and takes the lead

“okay, ken, i’m done.”

kenny opens his eyes, looks you up and down, then smirks. “god, you are just- wow.”

“do you really like it? i got black just for you,” you smile, spinning around so kenny could see everything.

“i noticed. you look smokin’,” he laughs. kenny lifts his hand and wiggles two of his fingers, signaling you to come over to him.

you giggled and skip over to him, knowing he’s gonna give you what you’ve been want. you straddle him, and he takes a peek down your cleavage. “whatcha lookin’ at?” you ask, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“yer tits, obviously,” he teases, running his hands all over the black lace. he pulls at the bra strap and lets it go. you sigh at the stinging sensation it leaves on your shoulder.

grinning, kenny trails his hands further down, smoothing over your clothed cunt. you hum as you follow his pretty hands.

“can i get this off you? make you feel good?” he asks. consent is key.

“of course, ken. do whatever you want,” you say, lifting up your hips a little so he can slip off the black panties.

kenny hooks his fingers on the lace and pulls it down, slipping the material off of you. he shoves the fabric in your mouth, then manhandles you just a little, forcing you to lie down as he gets on top of you. your muffled giggles filled the room.

“i’m gonna make you feel real good,” he tells you as he rubs his thumb over your clit. you whine and nod, then kenny pushes a finger in.

“don’t make a single sound.”

tweek !

⭐️ i think he’d like red or a dark green

⭐️ he’s like kyle but WAYY more shaky and nervous

⭐️ bro just freaks out

“i’m ready, tweek.”

tweek looks up from whatever he’s doing. he turns to you and his eyes widen like saucers.

“OH GOD!” he shrieks. tweeks face immediately turns a bright pink and his hands fly to his face to cover it up. a concerned look makes itself known on your face. “what? do you not like it?”

“n-no- i love it! you just..u-uhh..” he trails off, deciding to slowly let his hands fall from his face. “goodness, honey, you look like a tomato!” you giggle, strutting over to him and placing your hands on his cheeks, the warmth making your hands feel less cold than before.

“ohh god..” he sighs as you take your place in his lap. “see? i got the color you like. i got the best one i could find,” you tease as you start to mess with the uneven buttons of his shirt. he avoids eye contact, twitching a little at each button you undo.

“cmon, sweetheart, talk to me,” you say, smoothing your hand over his stomach. his breathing is unsteady and he’s shaking behind belief. “y-you look n-nice! you’re just..uhm..making me anxious.”

“really? oh, tweek, when are you not anxious?” you laugh, moving your hands down to his belt. his unsteady breaths start to get heavy. he swallows hard as he looks down to your hands. “n-never..?” he dragged out.

“maybe i can calm you down, huh? how does that sound?” you appealed. “good..” he mumbled under his breath. you smiled and started to palm him through his boxers. tweek let out a loud whine. he wasn’t very hard to please, not to mention very loud.

“shh, inside voice,” you giggled, just trying to mess with him. “it’s- it’s k-kind of hard to do that.”

“oh yeah? i can imagine,” you said, moving your hand a bit faster than before. tweek let out high-pitched moan. “you’re gonna- make me- uhh..”

“what? cum? i bet you are, you don’t take much,” you teased, getting closer to his face, pecking his trembling lips. “you gonna cum your pants, tweek?”

“w-what!? n-no! i-” he starts, but you cut him off like traffic, “are you sure? you’re dangerously close. i can tell,” you laughed.

“go on, tweek, cum. i know you’re going to.” you gave him a smug look, but then that look faded.

“i-i can hoo-ld out.”

#kyle broflovski #smut #x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #green #kenny mcormick x reader #south park kenny #south park #orange #tweek tweak #south park x reader #fem reader

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yuesgirlfriend · 9 months

Text

awaken, my love!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

warnings: AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, third person POV, oral sex, PIV sex, praise kink, shy!simon, first time (ambiguous)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

This is the end of us, Sleeping with the moon and the stars I know where you've been, oh You can see us far then near

Let me into your heart!

-Me and Your Mama/ Childish Gambino

“Well, this is the place,” she says, setting her keys and bag down on the counter. Simon is as noiseless as always, following behind her silent but for the soft shut of the door and click of the lock.

Outside, the hum of traffic and sounds of the city are easy to hear through the thin walls. She glances nervously at him, barely able to meet his eyes as he takes her space in. He seems too big in her tiny flat, like by just walking in he made the walls shrink around him. God, was it always such a mess? The peeling wallpaper and dingy couch and perpetually leaky sink didn’t seem too bad that morning. Something familiar twists in her stomach, heats her face.

She can’t even remember the last time she had company over. What are you even meant to bloody do?

She settles for grabbing his wrist and leading him bodily to the couch. “Ah, uh, please- take a seat.” He only looks a bit ridiculous, a huge tank of a man squished on an blue loveseat with frayed seams she found at Goodwill. What does he think of this little home she carved out of a mold ridden pocket of the city? Why does she care so much?

The awkward hunch of his shoulders and untidiness of his blonde hair brings her back to herself. Laughing a bit, she sits down next to him. She can feel the heat of his body from where their thighs brush and shoulders press together. Something like anticipation coils in her stomach.

Suddenly, she’s feeling brave. She takes one of his (intimidatingly large) hands in hers. Turns it over, traces the lines of his fingertips and the soft material of his fingerless gloves.

She presses a kiss to the center of his palm. His eyes seem unfocused and- it’s not her imagination- trained on her lips.

His hand is warm and surprisingly gentle when it cups her cheek. And his lips against hers even more so. Soft, slightly chapped, their mouths slide together, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, and all she can giddily think is we’re kissing, he’s kissing me, over and over like an idiot.

She pulls away for half a second to catch a breath, stupidly sighing his name, and he crushes his mouth against hers with an unexpected vengeance.

Their mouths work together, euphoria threatens to burst from her chest; But something keeps knocking at back of her head. A half dreamed, half baked fantasy. Simon breaks away from her lips and moves to kissing along her jaw and neck and- god, that feels nice- but she wants-

Out of nowhere, she jumps to her feet, startling him. Outside, cars honk and someone shouts. A train’s breaks squeal and rattle in its tracks.

“I- are you alright?”

Simon’s sitting on the couch, face flushed and scarred lips kiss bitten. His ears are pink. And between his slightly spread legs, something waiting for her. His hands clench into fists, like he can feel her eyes on him.

“I’m doing lovely.” She sinks to her shaky knees between his. The nerves from earlier are coalescing into something white hot in her chest, between her hips. “Thanks for asking.”

She runs a greedy hand along the inside of his thighs, feeling the heft and weight of the muscle there. Thick, strong- she wonders absently what the hell he does for a living to look like this. She wonders less absently what else must be thick and strong.

He’s clearly feeling something- when she risks a glance up, his eyes are nearly all pupil, his mouth slightly parted, his chest barely moving. When she gives up any subtlety and nuzzles her face into the heavy, cargo pants-covered bulge, his breath hitches, but he makes no move to touch her. He doesn’t grab her and force her down, or tug hard on her hair. The polite man takes whatever she will give him.

His eyes close completely and his hips buck just a bit when she runs a hand over his clothed groin, gives him a gentle squeeze. “How’s this, love?” She asks, unable to stop herself from laying a kiss on him. “Feels nice?”

His answering yes is so low she can barely hear it. Nonetheless she unbuttons, unbuckles, unzips her way to- at last, victory.

Surprisingly thick and as flushed as his face, his cock rests in her hands quite nicely. She gives him a few gentle tugs, eyes trained on how he tips his head back, how his chest somehow heaves silently. What would she have to do to make him give up his control? How far would she have to go?

She settles on swallowing him down as far as he can go in one full swing. It’s alot to take, but she’s no quitter. He’s thick and heavy on her tongue-and his answering gasp is music to her ears.

Breathing through her nose, she lets drool gather along him, running her hands along his twitching thighs. One of his shaky hands grabs hers- the other holds on for dear life to her squished (also Goodwill) couch pillow. She smirks around his cock, humming, pleased. His hips jerk at the sensation.

She releases him, just for a second, wrapping a hand around him to keep him company. His hips are making desperate little bucking motions into her hand, clearly against his will. His eyes are unfocused and trained on his cock in her fist, but when her other hand squeezes his, he meets her gaze- dark eyes hold hers for only a few seconds before it clearly becomes too much.

He shakes his head, tipping his head back, hips jerking when she begins to move her hand. He seems a bit less restrained, but not quite there yet. She swallows him down again, sighing through her nose, like this is just what she needed after a long day, to hear his helpless muffled sounds.

Suddenly a big hand is on her head, against her cheek, not helpless after all. Mouth still hugging his cock, she looks up through slightly teary eyes- his face is that of a man holding on by a thread, panting and flushed.

But there’s a gleam in his wine-dark eyes that wasn’t there before. So she generously lets him sink down to the earth beside her and crush his mouth to hers. And lay her on the carpet. And fold his body over her, covering her like her own night sky.

And she lets him kiss his way down her clothed chest and belly, hiking her blouse up to her chin and unceremoniously tugging down the waist of her skirt, like fully undressing her would take too much time.

He won’t reach under her skirt though or pull it down all the way- he just laves kisses against her tits like they’re not in a faded beige bra. Wanted to do this for ages, she barely hear him as he mumbles into the flesh of her hip. She wants more, though, she wants it all- his white hot tongue on her nipples, his hands on her waist and neck, his-

“Simon. Simon, c’mon.” Her hips squirm against his thigh. For Christ’s sake, his cock is still out, flushed at the head and twitching with every unconscious rut of his hips.

“Fuck. Like it when you say it.” His lips meet hers again, and its good, so good, but she needs-

“Simon, come on, put it in. Inside.” She pants against his lips, feeling out of her mind, unable to formulate a real sentence. “Come on.” Her hand moves with a mind of its own down to where he’s hard and wants her.

“In- in a minute, yeah?” He’s breathless and moving down, hiking her hips up to his face and- oh.

He doesn’t work her up to it or tease her at all; he just dives in with his mouth already open. She’s wet down to her thighs already, but at the feeling of his tongue where she’s sensitive and wanting has her burying a scream behind her palm.

His tongue runs circles over her clit and slowly a finger eases inside her where she’s slick and already clenching with the waves of an approaching orgasm. She clings to the carpet, but its not enough. Her hand travels to his hair and clenches hard- and he moans where his mouth is wrapped around her clit. Groaning louder than he did when she had her mouth on him. She tugs again, and he moans again.

The corners of her mouth twitch up. “D’you- ah, ah- like that?”

No response from him other than dark eyes meeting hers even as he doubles his ministrations on her cunt. “Oh- god-” She moans at the feeling of his eyes on hers and drops her head back, feeling the waves rise again, higher and higher, until her orgasm snaps through her body.

She isn’t even finished twitching before he’s climbing over her again, rutting into her hip, and shoving his tongue into her mouth- she takes it all with the gummy high that comes on after coming.

“Fuck, can I? Please, love?” He pants into her mouth, thread of control long broken.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere,” she says, kissing him and pulling hum closer. Wrapping her legs around his waist. Feeling the length of him prod at and then slip inside her, one unrestrained thrust at a time.

“Fucking hell-” he moans desperately. He’s so heavy inside her she could weep.

Sighing into his hair, she tightens her hold on him as he presses his hips to hers and grinds. “-Ah- sweet thing-”

She floats somewhere warm and comfortable as Simon pushes out helpless ah ah ah’s out of her mouth, and as his groans get heavier and his thrusts get faster, sloppier. Unable to move from under his weight, forced to recieve his biting kisses and panting praise of feels good, feels so good, so tight around my cock-

“That’s it, Simon,” she says, dizzy with the force of his praise and his frantic thrusts, when he mumbles m’gonna come, love, please- “come in me, oh- take what you need, baby, give it to me-”

A flush of white hot heat deep in her as he groans against her lips, some desperate grinding as deep as he can go, and he’s done. Trembling on his elbows, shoulders shaking when she gently runs her nails between his shoulder blades and rubs a palm across the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

He’s still for a good while. She can’t really fully breathe with his whole weight pressed on her, but she doesn’t mind- it’s comforting. Like a weighted blanket, or maybe a very large cat. Eventually, though, the situation between her legs gets too uncomfortable to ignore.

“Simon. Hey. I can’t breathe.” She pats his shoulder. The kids upstairs stomp and shout, a car honks outside.

He doesn’t respond beyond his shoulders shifting as he breathes deeply. She nips at his ear, tugs at a lock of his hair.

“Hmph?” he lifts his head up, shifts a bit, bleary eyes meeting hers.

“Hi. Did’ya fall asleep?” Her chapped lips stretch around her grin. He just looks so soft.

He shifts onto his elbows, taking some weight off her. “No, I- I think I just- blacked out.”

She laughs and watches his face face change from punch-drunk to something like exasperation, but fonder.

“There y’are again. Always laughing.” His voice is tinged with humor but still quiet, as always. He buries his face in her neck. Hiding from her, she thinks. “What’s so funny, hm?”

Don’t go back to hiding, she thinks but doesn’t say. Instead, she giggles- “If you don’t want me to laugh, don’t be so sweet.”

He scoffs, avoids her eyes, but his ears are tinted pink again. “Yeah, sweet like sour milk.”

She runs a hand through his short, mussed hair, and hums. “Hm. No.”

He pushes up to his knees, rubbing her bare thigh. She scrunches her nose at the feeling of him finally leaving her body.

“Will you stay for dinner?” The words leave her mouth before she can reign them in. Before she has time to worry about his response, he slips an arm around her back, tilting her up.

“C’mon.” His eyes are gentle, something behind them she can’t name. “Lets get cleaned up for dinner.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw ghost #cod mwii x reader #simon riley x reader angst #call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons #fic #tumblr fic #ficlet

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claymorexpunisher · 11 months

Text

Un(Willing) Participant (18+One Shot)

DISCLAIMER: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately, so if you choose to click on my work regardless, use your own discretion. Thank you for the love always and enjoy!✨

Pairing(s): Drew McIntyre/Fem. Reader

Summary: Reader comes back from a friend's birthday party only to realize that she's being followed.

Tags/TWs: 18+, consensual sex, consensual kink, consensual non-consent, dirty talk, simulated stalking, knifeplay, light bondage.

Word Count: 1,430

As soon as I woke up, I felt a large hand clasp over my mouth, muffling my surprised shriek. My heart pounded as I started thrashing wildly, but to no avail. Drew’s firm torso and hands pressed me down onto the bed, dulling my frantic movements.

“Let go of me!” I screamed underneath his palm; my voice sounded warped to my ears and his.

“Ooh… a feisty little kitten.” Drew mocked. His breath felt hot against my ear and my neck and tried once again to wriggle away from him in disgust. “But a stupid one too. Haven’t you watched a single scary movie, love? I watched you check every single nook and cranny in this house… except the back door… You practically invited me in. So of course, I decided to make myself at home…” He went on and I realized he wasn’t lying. His bare torso pressed against my barely covered skin, and I could feel the material of his boxers and the hard line of his cock pressed against my ass.

“While you went to grab a drink at the party, I went through your phone... I saw what you wrote to your little boyfriend- all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you… I also read about your little fantasy. About how you wanted to pretend you didn’t know each other. And you wanted him to follow you home and have his way with you. imagine my shock, that an adorable little thing like you could be so fucking filthy. I’m not your boyfriend but I’m more than willing to give you exactly what you were begging for.” Drew chuckled darkly. The sound sent chills from the top of my head down to the tip of my toes. But underneath that lick of fear there was something else. Something I was embarrassed to recognize.

Arousal.

Lust.

My head was swimming with it, and I knew he could tell.

All through last night, I felt eyes on me. Watching me. Following my every move while I had fun with my friends. While I ate, drank, and danced… and while I walked home, I swore I heard the crunch of soft, slow footsteps on gravel. A sound that had me looking behind me every so often and walking home faster.

That eerie feeling didn’t settle even once I reached the comfort of my home, and I started getting ready for bed…

Walking home felt such poor judgement on my part, especially now, seeing the predicament I was in. I found the large man over me utterly repulsive. And still, my body seemed to have other plans. Drew’s firm muscles pressing me onto the bed and his hard cock poking at my back had me reflexively grinding against him before another husky chuckle and the sensation of cold steel grazing against my arm had me catching myself and I started thrashing again.

“Figures you’d be into this you dirty little slut- don’t fucking move. I won’t say it again, love.” Drew growled into my ear, and I obediently froze, letting out a sob as the steel of the blade trailed over my arm and over my back. And then he started slashing my clothes until they were tattered ribbons splayed over the sheets and I was fully exposed. I let out a scream that he once again muffled by pushing my face into the pillow, but not firm enough to where I could turn my face and I gulp in some air when my lungs began to protest.

“Don’t… I didn’t… I don’t- please…” I stuttered as I sobbed, shivering and rocking back as Drew trailed the cold and blunt handle of the blade over my pussy lips. God this was… so wrong… but I was soaking. And I could see the proof of my arousal glistening on the dark handle of the blade, causing my face to burn hot with mortification and disgust with myself.

“Yknow… you’re giving me really mixed signals here, love. And I’m getting sick of hearing you, so…” I knew better than to struggle at this point as Drew wrapped the tattered pieces of my underwear over my mouth like a gag and he tied my wrists behind my back using my equally ripped up shirt. He then raised my lower body. My cheek pressed against the pillow and my tears soaking it through, I was completely exposed to him. That blade was ever present, trailing lightly over the skin of my back. Not enough to cut the skin, but enough for me to know that the threat of what it could do to me if Drew so wished, was there. “I would tell you that this’ll be over quickly but… then I’d be lying.” Drew mumbled, seemingly amused at the sobs and shivers that wracked my body.

When he entered my pussy from behind, I gasped and let out a muffled shriek. My thighs trembled at the sudden intrusion but fuck, it felt amazing and… and dirty. My sobs quieted and eventually gave into moans that Drew was immensely proud of knowing that he was culprit who caused them. My mortification only escalated as the wet sounds between my legs as his cock hit against a particular spot inside that made me blind with pleasure. I was slowly sinking into a fuzzy, out-of-body state that I wasn’t quite prepared for and clearly, neither was he.

With a few firm strokes on my clit, I was gone. I swear I blacked out for a couple moments and then I wasn’t in the room anymore. Or at least, my mind wasn’t. I felt so incredibly satiated in a way I wasn’t expecting, and more overwhelmed tears stained the pillow underneath me as Drew reached his own release with a loud, satisfied growl into my ear that made me release a muffled whimper.

And just like that, it was over. And my boyfriend came back to me.

Drew laid there on top of me for a moment, pressing loving kisses against the spot behind my ear, between my shoulder blades and over my cheek… I was so blissed out that his kisses felt like tiny sparks of electricity against my skin.

“Are you okay, darling?” He whispered, to which I nodded sluggishly before I responded verbally, reminding myself that he needed that validation for his own sake. After all, none of this was his idea and I wanted him to know that he did nothing wrong.

“Perfect. Thank you. I love you.” I replied softly and as I slowly became less fuzzy and floaty, I saw the relief in his eyes as they stared lovingly at me.

I half registered him untying my wrists and gently wiping me down, followed by a very thorough full body massage and a soak in our bathtub.

Though I didn’t want him to leave our bed once we were all dried up, my eyes lit up as he walked back into our bedroom with a tray of my favorite breakfast and some white and red roses nestled into a small vase.

“Aww! Thank you, baby.” I said, touched by his attentive nature. We stared deep into each other’s eyes even as we shared a kiss, feeling 1,000 times closer after the scene we just had. It wasn’t lost on either of us how much trust that that scene took on both our parts.

“You’re welcome… are you sure that was okay? That we’re okay?” Drew asked. The worry that filled his blue eyes hurt my heart and my hand rested on his cheek, watching him nuzzle into my touch.

“Yes. You did everything I asked of you. I’m perfectly okay… did you enjoy that?” I asked, tilting my head curiously as he thought about it. He didn’t answer for a second but eventually he nodded. I smirked at the way his eyes darkened a bit almost against his will.

“So… youd be down to do something like that again?” I asked and I playfully side eyed him as I speared a piece of pancake with my fork and brought it to my mouth.

Something eased over Drew’s features. I don’t know if it was my reassurance or what, but he suddenly smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the side of my neck as I ate my breakfast.

“Maybe not so soon… it was… it was pretty intense. But yeah, at some point I do want to do that again.” He replied, laughing at the way my face lit up like a Christmas tree.

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #wwe drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre x female reader #drew mcintyre x fem reader #wwe fic #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #kink fic #cnc fic #cnc ns/fw #kiddies take a hike #minors dni

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Note

OKAY OKAY FOR PENNY AND DAD!EDDIE

So reader is baking cookies for Penny to take in her lunch and she steps out and asks them to take them out for her. Big mistake. Reader comes back to find Eddie and Penny red handed and there are like two cookies left so now she has to make a whole new batch :/

loved writing this one and hope everyone likes the new addition to the fam ;) steve’s SO is implied to be another character from (CYM) but i also like the idea of inserting readers into the scenario with him which is why no name or description is provided. happy reading, and PLEASE let me know if you like it. as always, reblogs are appreciated!!! took a little inspiration from look who’s talking :)

Cookies ‘n Clean - Fall of ‘91 (young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader)

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: if anyone had told you you’d be having this type of conversation with a four year old while making cookies, you definitely wouldn’t have believed them. and eddie still can’t say no to your daughter.

warnings: fluff, talk of assigned sex and gender identity (keep in mind, this conversation is with a child so it may not be as in depth as some would like, it is also based on a conversation i had with my little nephew), mentions of colic, judgement free zone

word count: 2.4k+

“Shit,” You mumbled, hurriedly wiping your hands of any dough on a kitchen towel before rushing over to where the phone rang on its holder.

“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver, shouldering the phone before you went back to mixing the chocolate chips with the dough in the large bowl over the counter.

“Hey!” Your best friend’s voice sounded a bit faraway, like she’d stepped away from the phone while she rang you and rushed back once you’d picked up. “Sorry if you’re busy—wait, are you busy?”

“Uhhh,” You glanced around at the kitchen counter, covered with baking materials and flour. The floor looked no better, the flour fall out on the floor had tiny little handprints pressed into it, baby Wayne had been working on a masterpiece before Eddie came to the rescue and hauled him off for a bath. Penny had gone with him, having given herself the title of Daddy’s Little Helper. Penny’s first day of preschool was tomorrow, and you had wanted to make her some cookies, what with how big of a fucking deal it was that your four year old was approaching her school days. It kind of scared you, actually. “No, not really. Why? What’s up?” “I’m pretty sure Winnie’s got colic, she’s down for a nap right now, but I was hoping I could borrow that book you had about it. I’m going crazy over here, I feel so bad when she’s screaming like that, and Steve starts crying whenever she cries.” Of course Harrington would, he was big softie for his newborn.

“Yeah, of course. Let me just put these cookies I’m making into the oven, and then I’ll bring it over.” You could hear the heavy sigh of relief she heaved.

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”Once you’d hung up, you finished mixing everything together and began placing the cookie dough on the parchment covered baking sheet.

“Eddie?” You called out into the hall before returning to the kitchen to slide the cookies into the oven and setting the timer. He appeared at the hallway entrance, leaning against the wall and holding the baby coddled in a comically large towel with Penny in tow.

You snapped yourself out of your stare—God, seeing that man with kids, especially your own, would never fail to get you going—and Eddie gave you a knowing smirk.

“I’m gonna run a book over to casa de Harrington, I put the cookies in the oven already, can you just take them out when the timer goes off?”

“I think I can manage to do that. Not a hundred percent sure, but I’ll give it a go.” He teased, as you made your way over to give him a smooch, you could smell the baby shampoo he’d used on your son.

You turned your attention to your baby in his arms, just a little over a year old. Ever the grump, he didn’t appear too happy with the event he’d been recently subjected to. Though, he never looked like he enjoyed most things. He had his dad’s natural poker face. Always looked slightly intimidating until you started talking to him. “Mama will be right back, Waynie.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek as your fingers danced gently against his little stomach rolls to tickle him. His grumpy face immediately split into a wide smile, you could see the four little teeth he had along with a new one that was starting to break through his gums.

He giggled and went to reach for you, face immediately dropping back into a scowl as if to say ‘why would you even tease me like that?’ when you forced yourself to step away. If you picked him up, you’d never leave.

Penny locked her arms around your legs in a quick farewell hug before she went back to asking her dad a stream of questions (her latest fad, she had to know the reason behind everything) related to why ‘Way’ got to pee in the bath and she couldn’t. The last thing you heard—and you made sure not to stick around too long after that—was, “Daddy, how come Way has a wom down thewe? I don’t go one of dose. Did I? Does it fa’ off?” Good luck, baby.

About an hour later, much longer than you had thought you’d be away, you finally made it back home.

Winnie had woken up a little into what was supposed to be your quick drop off, and boy did that baby like to scream and cry. You felt bad watching the new parents struggle so you’d attempted to help, trying to sooth her while Steve squeezed in a quick shower and your friend had disappeared to pump. Poor thing looked like her boobs were gonna pop any second, and not that there even was a good way, but it wasn’t in the good way.

They’d both returned at the same time, ready to take on their daughter as you coached them in how to position her and gave them some other new parent advice. Ironic, what with you having become a mother pretty young. You opened the front door, lips pursing at the immediate sight that greeted you, thanks to the position of the kitchen being directly in front of it.

“Seriously?” Penny beamed at you from her seat at the table, wiggling in her booster seat. “Hi, mama! Wook! Daddy and me and are eatin’ cookies!”

“I can see that,” You mused, eyeing the nearly empty baking sheet before them. Of course Eddie hadn’t bothered putting them on a plate.

Eddie at least had the decency to appear sheepish, as he finished off the cookie in his mouth. “Hi, baby, how’d it go?” An obvious attempt to distract you.

“Fine, Harrington’s got his handful over there. Remind me to ask him in a couple of months if he still wants five more of them. Hey, by the way, what the f—’’ You trailed off, eyeing your innocent four year old and the baby paying not even an ounce of attention in his highchair. “—udge, man. Where are the cookies??”

He rubbed the back of his neck, biting back a smile.

“Between me and Little bitty pretty one,” Penny giggled at the use of one of the nicknames her daddy had given her. It was her favorite, and Eddie could clearly tell, grinning over at her in response. “Gone, I’m so sorry babe. I took a bite of one, she asked for one, and then we just couldn’t stop.” Penny gave him a look that made him sigh. “Alright, fine. I couldn’t stop.” He’d cut her off after three, already not eager for how difficult it was going to be to put her to bed tonight. And the night before her first day of preschool—he knew full well he’d cry when they’d drop her off—she was just so hard to deny. Eddie blamed that on you, if she didn’t look so much like you, he’d have an easier time saying no.Obviously, you loved your husband and your family dearly. But you were incredibly annoyed, you didn’t like to use pre-made cookie dough often, yours was made out of scratch (and clearly why Eddie hadn’t been able to restrain himself or Penny) meaning you’d have to do it all over again so Penny would have them for tomorrow.

With a sigh, you grabbed your still dirty apron from the hook it was placed on and slipped it back on, tying the strings around your waist. “It’s fine, I’ll make some more.” The guilt must have been seeping in because Eddie immediately stood up and made his way to your side, “I’ll help! It’ll be faster that way, and I wouldn’t mind learning how to make them myself.”

“Me, too! I can help, too, mama!” Penny comically pushed her seat back from the table and Eddie went back over to help lower her down. “I can mix!”

He laughed as he picked her right back up and placed her back in her seat. “Then you need to be at the table to do that, sweetheart.”

“See, we got a whole little bakery going on—Hey!” Eddie managed to move aside, just barely avoiding the baby spoon flung at him. His eyes followed the direction it had come from, smirking in amusement at his son’s poker face. Wayne hadn’t appreciated seeing you upset, and being a mama’s boy, had stepped up to defend you.

Or maybe he just felt left out. He was still a mama’s boy nonetheless. You walked over, pulling him out of his high chair, “Aw, Waynie baby wants to help, too. So sweet. Can mama have a kiss?”

You raised him to your face and he immediately placed his little hands on the side of your face to give you a drooly kiss, or rather his version of a kiss. He kind of just tried to nom on your face.

“Not sure how throwing utensils at me is offering to help, but he’s cute so I’m gonna let him get away with it.” With one last kiss to his head, you ran your hands through his curls—he had fluff on the sides of his head, but most of his curly hair ran down the center of his head, giving him something of a curly mohawk which his dad adored—before handing him over to Eddie, while you raided the cabinets for more ingredients.

Eddie helped shift some of the bowls around before a realization dawned on him and he groaned. “They’re both gonna need a bath after this."

That seemed to catch Penny’s attention, she piped up from her spot at the table, “OH YEAH, DADDY! How comes I don’t have uh penis?”

You did a double take, blinking hard over at her before you turned to your husband who was already watching you with a smirk. “You still haven’t told her?”

“Oh no,” he laughed, and so did Wayne, though he only did it because he was amused with his dad laughing. “We agreed that if we had a boy I would explain it, and if we had a girl, you would explain it to her. There’s our girl, honey.”

You shoulders slumped in defeat. Damn, you did remember saying that. “I’ll remember this,” you threatened, all smiles despite the circumstances.

“She’s waiting, hon.” He kissed the top of your head, still chuckling as he moved to open the fridge and grab the butter with the arm that wasn’t holding Wayne. “You don’t have a penis, because you were born with different parts. See, mommy has the same thing as you. But daddy has a penis, just like Wayne.”

It looked like the wheels were turning in her head. “ ’S because Way is a boy and imma girl?” You could tell Eddie was trying to act like he wasn’t actively listening, but there was only so many times he could open and close the fridge when most of the ingredients are already out on the counter.

“In this case, yes. But not always, sometimes boys have penises, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes girls have vaginas—that’s what ours are called—and sometimes they don’t. What we have down there doesn’t always make us a boy or a girl. Sometimes it doesn’t make us either. It all depends on the person, and who we are.” You grabbed the little bowl containing a little bit of extra dough you had from earlier, and a bag of chocolate chips, setting them down in front of her with a wooden spoon. If anyone had told you you’d be having this type of conversation with a four year old while making cookies, you definitely wouldn’t have believed them.

Penny immediately picked up the spoon, waving it around in the air. “So I can be a boy?” “Of course, if that’s who you are, absolutely.” You poured a couple of chocolate chips into the bowl, and made a mental note to watch her while she mixed it when she began eyeing the chocolate chips with longing.

“O’ a girl?” “Yup. You can be a girl.”

“Whatuf I dunwana be a girl o’ boy?”

“Then you don’t have to.” “Whatuf I wanna be boff?” “Then you can be both.” “Okay! I few wike imma girl wight now. ’S dat okay?”

You loved her innocence so much, there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in her little body, she was so accepting. It scared you to be sending her into the real world like this, where you had no real way of keeping her away from the negativity, where she’d be exposed to it. But you and Eddie were determined to raise her to be a good person, regardless of who she turned out to be once she truly began to discover things for herself. “Yes, baby. You can be whoever you want. Just remember, no matter what, you’re always gonna be my baby.”

Penny seemed to be losing interest in the topic as she had started to mix the chocolate chips in with the spoon. “Wook, mama! Imma cook!”

“Yes, you are. And if you don’t steal out of the bowl, you can lick the spoon.” You could tell she wouldn’t be trying to eat the cookie dough with that promise having been made so you returned to your place by Eddie’s side. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He was staring at you in awe, a small smile on his face as he cradled Wayne to his chest. Apparently, he was daddy’s boy for the moment, snuggling right into Eddie.

“I just really lucked out with you. Really glad I knocked you up.” “You’re so romantic.” “I’m also stealing a lot of what you just said, by the way. It was really good and I wasn’t too sure of how I was gonna explain it when he starts asking questions. Thanks, honey. There’s a ton of butter in that, by the way, I got pretty distracted.” “That’s okay, I’m planning on getting distracted while you try to bathe the both of them later.” “That’s fair,” He grinned, leaning in for a kiss. Wayne babbled in protest as he was squished between your bodies.

Two hours later, the cookies were plated and cooling on the counter.

You and Eddie were both kneeling in front of the bath, shirts absolutely soaked due to some heavy splashing as you made sure Penny and Wayne were squeaky clean. “I knew you didn’t mean it.” His lips were curled up into a smug smirk.

“Shut up.” You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut when Wayne began to slap his hands on the surface of the water again. “God, I love you.”

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annebaby · 5 months

Text

National Anthem ♡ (pt. 3 - final)

aaaand here is the final part of my first fic, National Anthem! i hope you all enjoyed & i appreciate all the love always!

warnings: toxic snow, suggestiveness, fem!reader x young!coriolanus snow, use of Y/N, and i think thats all (?) let me know?

enjoy my lovelies :)

As you pull towards the entrance of the gala, you can’t help but awe at the exquisite architecture of the building. With long columns stretching across the width of the building and a large overhang donned with black ribbons, it was truly a sight for sore eyes. Coriolanus parks the car and heads to your side of the vehicle to let you out. He offers his hand to help you, then he kisses it. This was going to be a long night.

The car was whisked away to valet parking meaning there was no escape now. Who knew what he would do next?

The entryway to the gala was covered in a burgundy velvet rug that stretched into the lobby of the main dance hall. You took Coriolanus’ arm in yours, smiled and continued to walk towards the hall. You weren’t surprised you received many looks from the public upon your arrival with Coriolanus. You were both well known in the Capitol. People were staring at your dress in awe, admiring its beauty and taking you in.

You looked around at the onlookers whilst entering the hall, and you smiled sweetly. Of course, there were multiple men whose gaze was stolen by your cleavage, but you expected this. At least Coriolanus hadn’t stared at them, yet.

Upon entry to the gala, you released Coriolanus’ arm and turned to face him. He looked down at you with a sly smile, slightly smirking. His eyebrows were raised, waiting for you to say something.

“I’d like to go find Bridgette, is that alright?” You didn’t know why but you felt the need to ask him. He broke his smile and said, “Of course,” as if it were obvious there was no need for you to ask.

You stared at him for a second longer before feeling your chest relax. You hadn’t even known it was tight. You stood on your tiptoes to give Coriolanus a kiss on the cheek, before running off to find Bridgette.

Coriolanus was far too excited by your presence with him. Not only had he wanted you for months, but now he had finally felt your lips on his. He could recall the first time he saw you, a large ribbon in your hair in a far too short skirt and a black sweater. He swore to himself that day that he would never act on his feelings. Lucy Gray made him that way.

However, as the months passed and he saw you more, he knew something had to be done. You were gorgeous, innocent, obedient, and charming. You would make a perfect wife for him.

It’s not that he wanted to own you though - he really did have feelings for you. The poor man was just awful at acting on them. That was all.

So as you walked off to find your friend, he watched every man’s eyes fall on your figure and he fumed. He wanted to rip their eyes out for even glancing in your direction, but that wouldn’t be fit for an upcoming leader.

He wandered off to find your father, keeping a close eye on you as you disappeared into the crowd.

“Bridgette! Oh thank God I've finally found you.” Bridgette had been tucked in a corner chatting with Arachne Crane, awaiting your arrival.

“Oh my goodness you’re stunning! I love this dress,” you spoke, feeling the material of her dress in your fingers. Her brown hair was slicked back in an elegant braided bun and her gown was an eggplant purple with black lacing on the sides. You noticed all the men staring at her as well and laughed due to her obliviousness.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here! Arachne, if you’ll excuse us, you look gorgeous by the way!” You give Arachne a nod before Bridgette takes your hand and pulls you away.

“Lord, I cannot stand her. All she wants to talk about is her money and blah blah,” Bridgette laughs as she walks with you. You laugh as well, turning your head around to still see Arachne scoffing at something.

“But please tell me everything Y/N! Everyone’s already talking about your arrival with Snow and I want to hear it all, I'm honestly so confused.”

Bridgette leads you to a tray of Posca, which you accept thankfully. Grabbing the glass off the tray, you nod at the Avox carrying it and you turn back to her. You sip your drink solemnly, swallowing and gulping loudly. Then, you squeal. Finally, you could tell someone about the wildness of the night.

“You’re not going to believe me,” you say, holding onto her shoulder.

You tell her absolutely everything, and she doesn’t interrupt. She stands with her mouth slightly open and holds all her questions until the end.

“…. he kissed my hand and now I’m here!”

She stood there for a moment, still silent. Her mouth turned into an open smile as she jumped up and down slightly.

“Was he a good kiss-,” Bridgette stopped mid sentence, staring at someone behind you.

You felt a hand sneak around your waist, and it wasn’t Coriolanus. It was Festus Creed.

Your ex boyfriend of about a year, he wasn’t much at all. You hated him if anything. He was rude, stubborn and conceded - not to mention horrible in bed. You smelled the Posca on his breath as he stood next to you, hand on your waist. Even his red curls couldn’t hide the blush in his cheeks from drinking too much.

“Festus, what’re you doing? Get your hands off me.” You scoff and pry his hand from you before looking at him. He drunkenly smiles, completely out of it.

The breakup between you had been messy. You had caught him making out with Clemmie in the halls just a few months ago. Needless to say, all contact was cut completely, and the feelings between you two were severed and turned into hatred. Festus does not move away from you, and puts his hands back on your waist. He tries to snuggle his face into your neck.

“Festus. I said get off -“

You’re cut short by the sight of Coriolanus approaching you both. You shoot him a pleading look, and he quickly intervenes. He pried Festus off you aggressively before grabbing his collar and spitting in his face.

“One more word to her Festus, and I’ll make sure your father knows you just assaulted a woman and drank way too much. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Festus stared at Coriolanus silently, before Coriolanus released his grip on Festus and told him to get away. He cowered down and slowly walked away, ultimately leaving the event. Needless to say, you and Bridgette were standing side by side awestruck.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Y/N. Maybe I need to stick around you more often,” Coriolanus says. He stares at you intently before looking at Bridgette.

“Hello, Ms. Sinclair. Hoping Ms. Y/N is being good company to you tonight. So sorry I had to intrude.”He smiles sweetly at Bridgette before beginning to walk away.

“I won’t be far, if anyone else bothers either one of you let me know.”

As soon as he turns his back, you yell after him, “You can just stay with us if you want!”

You look at Bridgette, silently asking if that was okay with her. She widens her eyes and nods yes frantically, hoping to get more insight on his feelings for you. She was always good at reading people and interpreting their actions.

Coriolanus slowly turns around with a smile on his face. He bows his head down before holding his hand out to you.

“In that case, Miss Y/N, may I have this dance?”

You nervously look at Bridgette, not wanting to leave her by herself. She shoves you forward slightly, encouraging you to dance. You take Coriolanus’ hand in your own, slowly moving toward the dance floor.

A pristine classical song was playing, the sharpness of the violin leaving a small amount of seductiveness in the air. You joined the crowd as smoothly as you could. Coriolanus places his left hand in your waist, his right hand interlocked with yours. He pulls you much closer to him, bodies touching on all planes. The music restarts its pattern, and you both start dancing. As the President’s daughter, you’ve had many dance lessons. You knew how to do just about every dance there ever was in all of Panem.

Little did you know, so did Coriolanus. He had lots of catching to do after he gained his newfound wealth upon winning the Plinth prize. He enrolled in dance lessons, basic etiquette, and extra scholar tutoring. So, his dancing was above par, making his footsteps go perfectly in sync with yours.

“So, shall we impress them or keep it tame tonight, my darling?” His whisper in your ear makes cold chills run down your body. You feel his breath on the side of your face and you want to pull him into a nearby room for yourself.

Without moving for your stable position and disturbing the rhythm, you whisper, “Let’s keep it tame so you can continue to quietly explain to me what it is you want.”

“What do you mean, what I want?” He stopped dancing abruptly, pulling back from you and staring into your eyes with concern and annoyance.

He grabs your arm harshly, pulling you through the crowd and into a nearby room. He shuts the door, locks it, and you step back from him, creating distance. He stands at the door for a second, seemingly out of breath as he places his forehead on the surface of the door. The tenseness in the room was heavy, creating an odd atmosphere. You felt like you needed to walk on eggshells around him. His breathing was labored and his hands were slightly shaking. He was truly terrifying. However, the sexual desire was too thick to deny. An odd mix of both emotions, but hey, you were just a girl after all.

He slowly turned to face you, craziness in his eyes. He walked toward you slowly, your eyebrows creasing in slight fear and confusion.

“Don’t you get it? I’ve been trying to show you how I feel for weeks. I see you staring at me in the halls and I know you see me stare back. Even after you saw me brine the driver, you’re still acting utterly oblivious to what I want from you!” He’s yelling now, and he has fully closed the space in between you two, his hands now on either side of your face.

His eyes search all of your features for some sort of response. They’re scanning your face frantically, looking for anything you can give him. Suddenly, his fingers start tracing the features of your skin delicately.

“My God. You’re perfect.”

He leaned in and gave your forehead a precious kiss before looking at you to say something once again.

“I just, I don’t understand. You’ve hardly spoken to me since we’ve known each other. I’m still in the academy, and I don’t have any career plans or anything. What would you want with me?”

Your voice slightly faltered during your confession, making you seem more innocent and fragile in his eyes. He wanted to destroy you, corrupt you ; you needed to belong to him.

“I also don’t understand how you’re having a panic tantrum and then kissing me on the forehead - your mood swings are getting too confusing,” you said while giggling.

You hoped he would take a liking to the joke as well, though you may have stepped over the line. He smiled too, looking down at your hands before grabbing them with his own. He laughs quietly, feeling your fingers in his.

“How pretty your finger would look with a wedding ring on it. Wonder who the lucky man could be.”

You looked down at your fingers, imagining an expensive ring as well. You’ve always dreamed of a beautiful ring, a beautiful proposal and an elegant wedding. It was something you never thought you would get to. However, Coriolanus calling your future husband ‘lucky’ was definitely something that gave you hope.

“I think I’ll have a while before that happens, I am only nineteen after all.”

His hands slowly release yours and rest on your waist. He looks up at you and scans your face quickly before inching closer. He grabs your hands again, placing them on his shoulders to stabilize you. Once your hands are around his neck, he tells you to jump.

“Do what?” You have had sex before, but something about Coriolanus initiating intimacy with you startled you and caught you off guard.

“I said, jump.”

You do as he says and jump up as his hands cup your bottom and hold you up. As soon as you are at his level, he immediately attaches his lips to yours. The kiss was so sincere and sweet - until it wasn’t. He started pushing his tongue into your mouth and biting your bottom lip whenever he got the chance. Your hands made their way up into his hair, slightly tugging on the ends. He breathed out quietly as he walked the two of you towards the wall. He pinned your back against it, using it to keep you in his arms.

You had a burst of confidence shortly after that, tugging at the bottom of his blouse, trying to get him to take it off. He dropped you back on the floor gently. Looking at you as if he was waiting, you slowly started to take off his shirt for him. You could tell this was making him go insane by the way he was breathing and looking at you.

His shirt comes off, leaving his toned abdomen in full sight for you to see. You could not help but stare. He was ridiculously lean and carved in a way you did not think any guys could be. You traced the outline of his abs with your fingertips and kissed the middle of his chest.

“I didn’t know this is what my schoolboy crush was hiding from me,” you say breathlessly. He laughs in response.

“I have wanted you since the day you stepped in my house for the job, Mr. Snow. You do not understand.”

He watches you as you pull the straps of your dress down the sides of your arms. Something so small and it was driving him insane. He pins your shoulders to the wall as he kisses you roughly. Your hands reach for his neck again before an idea crosses your mind. Your hands travel down to his belt, fiddling and trying to undo it.

Coriolanus laughs as he breaks the kiss and moves your hand away.

“Let’s wait until later, darling. You have all the time in the world now.”

You tilt your head, noticeably confused.

“What do you mean?” He stepped back from you and reached down for his coat. He pulls a small box out of the pocket, and your eyes widen. He opens the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen in your life. A simple gold band accompanied by a five carat emerald cut diamond. Your mouth opens, jaw on the ground.

“I am the lucky man, Y/N. Your Father approved of our marriage the day after I started my internship. I think you’re the perfect bride and the perfect wife and-” he stops before walking towards you and sliding the ring on your finger.

“...and - now you’re mine forever.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #billy the kid #tom blyth #corio snow #coryo snow #coryo x reader #tbosas #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you

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