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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Open Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You help Bucky feel better when he's in a mood.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, slight jealousy, threat of violence (not against reader), slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: A Sinday treat inspired by this gif! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You found Bucky in one of the interrogation rooms. He had his leather jacket on, but didn't appear to be in a hurry to leave. Taking in his rigid posture from where he sat in his chair, you guessed it wasn't a good day. You wondered what happened or what exactly was bothering him. Considering he didn't look toward you, and he had to know it was you who walked through the door, you sensed that he wasn't in the mood to talk.

It didn't mean you couldn't try and make him feel better.

“Hey, Sarge,” you said, shutting the door behind you before you walked across the room. “Bad day?” You asked, stopping a few inches in front of him.

A pair of steel blue eyes snapped toward you and you couldn't suppress the shiver that rolled down your spine. It wasn't fair that he appeared so commanding when he was the one sitting in a chair and you were on your feet. “You could say that.”

“Anything I can do to help?” You asked with an almost innocent look in your eyes as he spread his massive thighs.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing to his crotch with his metal hand. “You can get on your knees and suck my cock.”

Your throat went dry as you looked in his lap, watching with growing interest as his thick fingers swiftly unbuckled his belt and pants. What if someone walked in? It was no secret that you and Bucky were together, but it didn't mean anyone should have to witness any of your endeavors. Then again, wasn't the thrill of getting caught part of the fun?

“Are you sure that's what you want? You could fuck my pussy,” you offered, your panties embarrassingly damp considering he hadn't touched you. If he asked you to, you’d ride him in that chair until his eyes rolled back.

The low chuckle he let out made your throat go dry. His laughter didn't fool you. He wasn't in the mood to play or tease. “If you want my cock in your cunt so badly, you better earn it by taking me in your fucking throat first,” he growled.

Your knees just about gave out, which gave you the perfect excuse to sink to the cool floor. “Will that make you feel better?” You asked as you crawled to him and slid your hands up his legs. Your cheeks flamed under his dark gaze. It was a thing of wonder to have his full attention. “Your big cock fucking my throat? Making me swallow every drop?”

“It’s a start,” he whispered, cupping your jaw with a tender touch. His thumb reached over to trace your lips, but pulled away before you could suck the digit into your waiting mouth. “Need that pretty pussy filled, too.”

You clenched, wishing he’d shove you on the back, push your legs apart, and drive his cock in so deep you'd scream. But you wouldn't get what you wanted if you didn't take care of him first. And having his dick in your mouth was something you craved, so you would enjoy it.

“Tell me you need it,” he ordered, his tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth dragged along it.

“I need it. Need you to fuck my throat,” you begged, unzipping his jeans and peeling them down with his underwear as far as you could. His thick cock bobbed free and you couldn't help licking your lips at the sight. You gripped the base and preened when he hardened more under your touch. “It’s so big. You can choke me with it if you want to.”

He groaned, heat curling in your gut when he rocked his hips up. “Look at you. So eager for it. Bet you'd rub your pussy against my boot if I told you to just to get a taste,” he rasped, making you whine. You’d love to leave a shine on his leather. “Everyone thinks you're a good agent and a good girl, but you’re my little cockslut.”

You pouted as you looked up at him. His blue eyes had gone black, the light shining over his head giving him the appearance of a dark angel. Beautiful, tortured, and heavenly. “I’m all of those things,” you said, licking from just above where your fingers held him to the tip. “I’m a good agent and a good girl. Your good girl.”

Because if there was anyone you wanted to be good for, it was Bucky Barnes.

“Fuck,” he grunted when your enclosed your lips around the head. The taste of him bloomed on your tongue, but it was just the beginning. He’d spill down your throat by the time you were done so the very essence of him lingered. “You are, doll. You’re so good and all mine,” he said, growling the last word.

You pulled off with a sweet smile, his praise bringing out your need to please him more. “And I’m very much your cockslut. So fuck my throat, Sarge,” you said, wasting no time swallowing him down.

“Your fucking mouth,” he groaned, bringing a hand to the back of your neck.

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked in a breath through your nose as you relaxed your throat. As tempted as you were to reach between your legs and give yourself some relief, you rested your free hand on his thigh. The muscle twitched beneath it and he would feel it if you gave him the signal to stop. You never once had to.

You took him every single time.

He touched your jaw again, making sure your mouth stayed wide open around him. He forced you to take him in deeper, his hips thrusting up as you gagged. “That’s it. Suck it just like that,” he urged, making you moan around the thick length of him. “My good girl. Everything I need right here.”

Tears blurred your vision, but they quickly spilled over. He looked back at you with half-lidded eyes, your heart pounding at the sight. You knew you looked pretty stretched around him. And you knew he wanted to keep you.

“So beautiful on your knees,” he praised, his hands moving to grip each side of your head to control the pace. You whimpered when your hand fell away and nose brushed the curls at the base of his cock. His metal thumb wiped away a tear as he made you bob your head. “Take it, doll. I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. I know you can.”

Those weren't just words to stroke his ego or your own. It was a lot to take. Drool seeped from the corners of your mouth, adding to the mess from your tear tracks and running makeup. You were certain you looked ruined, which only made you more stunning in his eyes. Because he was the cause and effect. He broke you so beautifully and put every piece back in place while leaving a bit of himself behind as a reminder of who you belonged to.

“You're my girl,” he said in a deep voice, quickening his pace as your throat contracted around him. “Mine.”

“Yours.” The muffled reply made him growl. You reached up to cup his balls, still allowing him to keep the pace. He said he wanted to fuck your throat and you wouldn't stop him, but you wanted to make him feel good.

“My dirty girl on her knees. Bet the camera’s recording us right now,” he went on, your mouth pliant as he continued to thrust. You almost forgot about the surveillance. “Should swipe the footage. Make you sit on my cock while you watch how well you take it.”

You moaned, sending more vibrations through his cock as he groaned and panted. His rhythm almost faltered when you gently squeezed, feeling him twitch in your mouth and under your hand before you let go. He was so close, chasing his release. It was getting harder to breathe, your eyes stinging with tears again, but he was almost there.

You had to get him off.

The slight drag of your teeth did the trick. “Take it. Don't waste a fucking drop,” he grunted, his face twisting and keeping your head down as his release flooded your mouth. Glancing up at him as you did your best to swallow it all, he looked like such a pretty mess, too. Parted lips, warm cheeks, pupils blown with lust. He was just as ruined as you.

No one else had that kind of power over him.

You gasped and greedily inhaled when he pulled you off of him and slumped in the chair, catching his breath, too. He groaned when your tongue went out to catch another drop that dropped from the head of his cock. Your soaked panties from having him in your mouth didn't matter. He’d get you off soon enough.

As long as he was okay from whatever bothered him earlier, that was all you cared about.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pushing the chair back and joining you on your knees. He slotted his lips against yours as he pulled you close, leaving you breathless once again as his tongue explored your mouth. You carded your fingers through his short hair as he took what he needed, his stubble leaving a slight burn on your skin.

Another subtle reminder that you were his girl.

“Better, Sarge?” You asked once he finished, your voice raw. If he wanted to talk, you’d listen.

“Much better,” he promised, his next kiss sweet and tender. The earlier tension he held in his body had disappeared, which gave you some relief. “Thank you.”

“Good,” you smiled against his lips.

He closed his eyes, his nose touching yours. “I'm not a killer anymore.”

You raised an eyebrow. Those weren't the words you were expecting to hear. “I know,” you said.

“But I had to stay here,” he said, kissing over to your ear. “Because if I bumped into the agent who touched you earlier, I would've shattered every bone in his hand.”

“Bucky,” you breathed, your heart pounding when he pulled back to stare at you. Lust lit up his eyes again, but there was an underlying rage building as his nostrils flared. Was that why he was in a mood? Because an agent had touched your arm before you said you had a boyfriend? It was so meaningless in your eyes that you had forgotten about it.

But, fuck, if this slightly possessive side wasn't hot.

“You told him you were mine because you’re my good girl. Still pissed me off that he checked you out when you walked away. Still wanted to break his hand,” he snarled, laying you on your back. “And I know your voice is a little hoarse, but I need to make you scream my name. I want everyone nearby to know you’re my girl,” he said, his eyes on you as he pointed to the camera in the far left corner. “And anyone watching.”

So, that happened. Lovelies, you may go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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muzansfangs · 7 months

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Byakuya, Ichigo, and grimmjow finding f! Reader naked?

They accidentally see you naked.

Starring: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; Ichigo Kurosaki x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;

Format: short imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, Ichigo is aged up and around his twenties, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, nipple play, implied sexual tension on previous encounters, f!reader, unprotected sex, horny thoughts, language, fluff, rough sex, biting, suggestive themes, mention to kidnapping in Grimmjow’s part, shower sex;

Plot: what happens when you are naked and they accidentally walk on you, catching a full glimpse of your bare body in all its glory? Hormones cannot always be contained.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

Two weeks. You had been stuck in Las Noches for two weeks now. Not only you missed your family, your friends and your house, but you were frustrated over the fact that, apparently, you had been kidnapped only because you were Ichigo’s adoptive and older sister and Grimmjow wanted to irk his rival. Unfortunately for him, you had an attitude.

The day Grimmjow and Ulquiorra dragged you to Hueco Mundo, you were minding your business. It was such a serene night in Karakura Town and you had suggested to buy a cake in the nearby patisserie for enjoying a dessert with your friends. You had not even bothered wearing something nice. You were comfortable in your ripped jeans and sneakers. However, you knew that the t-shirt you were wearing could have drawn way too many glances. Therefore, you opted for wearing a jacket over it.

Obviously, you did not make it to the cake-shop. The sting on the side of your neck you suddenly felt as you crossed the road was a clear sign that someone had other plans for you. Your vision was blurry, but you could clearly discern the cheeky grin of the Espada that loathed your brother’s guts, as he stared down at you. The hot Espada, right. But that was a detail you were going to ignore for the time being.

You fainted several seconds after the impact, only to wake up in front of Aizen’s throne and find out to be the center of the attention of Hollows around you. The show was about to begin, though. As you started yelling at everyone how much you wished they all could explode like balloons in front of your eyes, Aizen simply ordered to give you a uniform and elegantly left the room. That decision was the cherry on top. Ulquiorra did not waste any precious time and handed you a white dress that matched the style of this ‘group of terrorists’, as you kept on calling them, but you scoffed and refused to wear it.

Grimmjow was not having it and thought and trying to unzip your jacket was a good idea. As you swatted his hands away, you had to eventually give up when he pinned your wrists above your head, as your back was pressed against the wall. The sneaky grin on his face, though, dropped as soon as the blue words printed on your white t-shirt came to his vision.

‘Blowjobs are jobs too’.

Your cheeks flushed up and Grimmjow let go of you in shock. But from that day he started to see you under a different light. You had always been pretty and he hated to admit how many times he had found himself fantasizing about how his hands could perfectly squeeze your ass as you bounced up and down on his shaft. He could not control himself and his lust for you grew with every argument you had.

The fact that you were a Kurosaki, even if you did not share Ichigo’s blood, made the whole deed even better. What a way to get back at his rival, if he could dig his claws into your flesh.

On the other hand, you were not indifferent to Grimmjow’s sharp features and abs. You hated to admit that he literally was your type and that you had wet dreams about him more than once. Getting to see him everyday in Las Noches was now driving you mad. You were glad Aizen had at least given you a chamber with a private bathroom. You had to admit that you allowed your mind to wonder and your hand to wander under the shower. His sharp canines, they did numbers on your mind and wished you could feel the way they grazed over your jugular. Just once, no one had to know about that.

Now, you easily got bored in the huge castle you were stuck in. You therefore asked Aizen if you could paint some parts of the walls in the hall that had cracked throughout the time. The stoic man had hesitantly agreed and now you were trying to keep yourself busy by painting over the ruined portions of walls in front of you. You were trying to balance yourself on the wooden ladder set against the wall, with a bucket of white paint in your hand and the brush in the other.

You knew you should have asked Ulquiorra to watch over you, but you were confident about your skills. Additionally, you had probably underestimated the presence of Grimmjow a few feet away from you.

“Tsk, what the hell are you doing up there? Do you want to break your neck?” his hoarse voice pierced your ears, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. There he was, ready to taunt you.

You sighed and tried to keep your balance as you gave him a flat reply, your tone almost apathetic at this point “Why do you care? Mind your business”.

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, his trademark smirk plastered over his face as her let his eyes scrutinize the way the tight skirt of your dress emphasized the curve of ass. A delicious meal for him.

“Nah, if you die, I’d lose my plaything. Come on, let me help you” he teased you, hoping to get a reaction from you.

Oh, boy, he definitely did.

Your upper lip twitched, your grip on the brush tightening significantly as you tried not to slip from the creaking rung of that stupid ladder “Excuse me?!” you practically hissed, dipping your head down to glare at him.

Grimmjow grinned and arched his eyebrow at you “You heard me. Get your ass down here, plaything”.

You knew you should have asked Ulquiorra to help you and now, as you scoffed in indignation, ready to fire back an insult at him, you realized that you were screwed up. You never got to yell at Grimmjow, no. A strained scream left your mouth, as the sound of the thin wooden plank under your feet snapping pierced your ears. You did not see that coming for sure and so you fell. Loosening your grip on the brush and the bucket, you squeezed your eyes shut for inevitable impact with the floor. An impact that neve came as you felt two strong arms embrace you and yank you towards a toned chest.

You hesitantly opened your eyes, mouth slightly agape as you tried to steady your breath, when the bucket ended up pouring its content all over you two. You would have loved to to thank Grimmjow, but the first you did as you felt the paint stick on your hair, naked portions of skin and dress was cussing.

“Fuck!” you groaned, as Grimmjow snorted too and let you back down on the floor. Obviously, he had been a victim of the falling bucket as well. Some paint covered his messy hair and part of his chest and uniform.

Seeing him like this, in addition to the fact that he had saved your life, made you crack up a smile and shake your head softly. You two were a mess.

“Don’t you fucking dare to say anything! Let’s get this shitty paint off of us before it dries!” he grumbled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and marching towards your room. You quirked your eyebrows up, wondering why he was leading you back to your room. You did not have spare clothes for him, just a bathroom and, if he thought you were going to strip in front of him, he was clearly wrong.

As he opened the door of your room and let you in, he took off his jacket and threw it on the floor, his hands already reaching down to unbuckle his belt, as you finally squealed out in shock and turned your back at him.

“Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing! Don’t you dare undress in front of me!” you quipped, clasping your hand over your mouth. That was so embarrassing and you could feel cold sweat collecting in the back of your neck.

“What’s up now? Never seen a cock?” he sassed, dropping his pants down and walking to the bathroom naked. Your blood ran cold and you did your best not to turn around. He had never acted like that. This time you found yourself speechless and you could not even send him to hell.

As you heard him turn the shower on, you sighed and grabbed a towel from a drawer. You hastily undress yourself and wrapped the pink item around your naked body. You waited for him to get out ot the shower, confident that he had not seen a single glimpse of your body. But you were wrong.

The panther boy accidentally saw your naked ass through the mirror in your bathroom. The open door had granted it the full view of the bedroom and now he was practically growling in the cubicle with a painful boner. No, it was enough. This time you were going to take care of the problem you had caused.

Grimmjow stormed out of the bathroom, not caring about covering himself and making you gawk at the scenery before your eyes. He tugged your towel away and kissed you passionately, not giving you time to process what is was happening. You barely did, in fact. Your brain slowly started to process what your own body was doing, when you found yourself into the shower with Grimmjow’s fingere buried into your core.

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly and as he bit onto the crook of your neck, thrusting his fingers into you, you moaned softly and closed your eyes in bliss.

“What happens in Las Noches stays in Las Noches” he purred in your ear, only to receive your sassy reply.

“It was Las Vegas, you ignorant cat” you breathed out, before he involved you into a fervent kiss that made your inner walls clench around his fingers.

‘Sorry Ichigo. I could not resist’ was your last thought before you reached your climax.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

Being Urahara’s adoptive daughter was a privilege. Life was great, really, but since your father had started training Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends things were messy. You had no time to rest and practically zero privacy. Your house and shop had been opened to Soul Reapers and humans, coming over to ask for help at any hour of the day. Including night, obviously.

Despite that, you had bonded with the entire group of ‘heroes wannabe’, as you teasingly addressed them.

Yet, there was one out of them that had caught your eye and it was not just for his appearence. Ichigo Kurosaki, the invincible guy that had rescued Rukia Kuchiki and was now trying to take down Aizen, was living rent free in your mind. More than once, while you watched your father teach him new strategies and help him improve his skills, you had found yourself staring intently at the way his muscular arms flexed every time he unsheathed his sword.

You had carved in your mind the way his t-shirt emphasized the outline of his abs and you had to avert your eyes from him, when droplets of sweat made his body glisten. Your mind was wild, you imagined too many things for your own good.

You often laid in your bed, eyes closed, back arching for waves of pleasure, at the thought of his sweaty face hovering over yours as he thrusted into you. You wanted him, you wanted him more than anything else on this Earth. You wished to see the sweat beading his forehead up close, you wanted that sweat to scream your name. Things were heated, whenever your father ordered you to help him train.

A hand to hand fight was probably going to be the cause of your death, one day or another. Sometimes, as you fought, you ended up rolling onto the ground. His hot body against yours and those flames blazing in his eyes got you weak on your knees.

Once, you had ended up topping him. Your hand way laying flat onto his chest, as you straddled him. You were both sweaty, panting, your clothed intimacies pressed down against one another. In that very moment, as you tried to stand up and shifted your position, he groaned softly. You did not fail to notice the way his cheeks flushed, or feel how something was twitching underneath the fabric of his trousers.

That had happened a week ago and, since then, you were avoiding meeting him around your father’s shop. You were too embarrassed at the thought that you had practically felt his boner like that.

Now, that infamous morning, you were relaxing a bit into the bathtub. Urahara and the others had left for taking care of some business out of town and you had to watch over the shop while they were gone. However, you were too tired and stressed out to deny yourself some self-indulgent pleasure.

Some bubbles were floating in the air as you let the warm water and soap envelope your naked frame and you did not hear at all the door of the bathroom creak open. When you heard your phone buzz, you raised up in the tub, your naked back and ass in full display as you reached for your device.

But Ichigo’s eyes, oh dear, they went wide as he ended up toppling over a vase, as he stumbled into the bathroom. You were a vision, the emblem of perfection, and he clasped his hand over his mouth in shock, as the sound of the object shattering on the floor made you both flinch.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” he fretted, panicking as he tried to cover his eyes.

You, on the other hand, had dropped your phone on the floor too and had hastily slided back into the tub to hide your naked form from him. It was such a pleasurable nightmare!

“Ichigo! What the hell are you doing here?!” you blurted out, hoping a supermassive black hole could suck you in right on the spot.

“I was searching for Urahara!” he defended himself, turning his back at you and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“In the bathroom?!”.

“Oh shut up! I needed to use the bathroom too!” he snapped back, not knowing what to say anymore.

There was no way out from the carousel of shame and awkwardness, therefore you took the matter in your hands and quickly grasped a towel, hopping out of the shower and wrapping it around your body. You needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

As your shoulder brushed against his, though, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut for a second before pinning you against the wall and kissing you out of the blue. You inhaled sharply, not expecting it, but, as soon as you collected yourself from the shock, you kissed him back and tangled your fingers through his spiky orange hair.

It was a kiss full of hunger, just like his hand, slipping underneath your towel and searching for your folds. You moaned softly against his lips, raving into the longed sensation you were finally experiencing.

“Let’s hope your father doesn’t come home earlier now” he rasped, plunging his fingers into your core as you lolled your head back against the wall in pleasure.

“If he does, I’ll tell Aizen how to fucking use that stupid device at his full potential” you joked, smiling against his lips.

Thinking about it now, you were so glad your father had messed up your lives with Ichigo’s group of friends.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

Drenched in sweat, you were running up to the Kuchiki Estate. Training under the scorching sun for hours had truly drained you. Yet, you were determined to get stronger and help to fight Aizen and his crew of Arrancar. When Rukia had suggested to Orihime to visit the Soul Society and spend some days together to hone her abilities, you had decided to join them.

It was your chance to put yourself to the test and, actually, even an excuse to see the new friends you had made in the Seireitei. However, you had to be honest to yourself and admit that there was one special person you wanted to see again. You had hated his guts, when you first met. It was a miracle that he had not slashed your chest open too when you tried to prevent Rukia’s return to the Soul Society. Yet, things had changed.

Byakuya Kuchiki was not only a cold-hearted, stoic and sophisticated man. He was much more than that and you had started to see it too.

He was not much of a talker, but he was handsome as hell and he had even offered you his help in trying to become a better Sobstitute Shinigami. You naturally found it odd, but you were in no position to refuse his help. However, the recent events had forced you to part ways again and you had missed him too much not to come back to the Soul Society and see him again.

Throughout your permanence, Rukia was allowing you to sleep over at the Kuchiki Estate but, much to your dismay, you never crossed paths with him. Not even once. It was horribly ironic, but you were partially glad he could not hear your soft moans in the dead of the night, when you touched yourself thinking about him and how his hands rested on your hips when he adjusted your position during a training session.

You missed his touch, his cologne, the way his chest grazed over your head when you were that close. Whenever he scolded you for being too distracted, you had to bite on your tongue not to blurt out that it was his fault. Your close proximity truly made your grip on your katana falter. He was messing with your head in a way you could not fully comprehend and you wondered if he was conscious of the way he affected you.

Now, as you stormed into the room Rukia let you sleep in, you quickly started taking off your uniform. You craved a shower and some fresh clothes more than anything right now. You dropped your pants to the floor and you quickly took off your shirt as well, as you already imagined the way the hot water would have made your aching muscles relax.

But as you finally reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, someone had returned to his Estate. His feather-like steps could not be heard at all and you simply discarded your bra too, sighing in relief as your breasts were free from any restriction. You were still humming in satisfaction with your eyes closed, when the door of your room slided up and a gasp of shock left Byakuya’s lips.

He was for some reason unable to move, his eyes locked on the curve of your breasts, staring at your nipples as if he was admiring some greek statute of a goddess. He cursed himself for his lack of decency and he felt mortified as you opened back your eyes and you met his gaze.

“Byakuya!” you squeaked out, cheeks heating up in shame as you grasped your shirt anf tried to cover your upper body from his eyes. Honestly, you had never felt that ashamed in your whole life.

The Captain of the Sixth Division cleared his throat and averted his eyes from you, his body clearly reacting to the vision he had just been blessed with. He could not pretend he had not seen you like that and, obviously, you would have never forgotten such an indecent accident. There were plenty of things he could say, but just one thing he wanted to do.

He slowly darted his eyes back on your frame, his lips slightly parted as he walked up to you. With every step he took towards you, your heart skipped a beat and your legs quivered. You could not read his mind, but his body language was pretty clear at this point.

His hand gently grasped your wrist, inviting you to loosen your grip on the shirt impeding him to admire your chest and, under the spell of his touch, you obliged his request. As the item fell at your feet, Byakuya grasped your chin and made sure you kept the eye-contact with him as he gently captured your lips with his ones.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as, standing on your toes to reach his lips better, you returned the kiss with equal hunger and gentleness. His hands, however, were already exploring your body.

The Captain definitely knew what he was doing as he took your nipple between his index and thumb, pinching it softly and massaging it with a mastery of a man that had been married and knew how to please a woman.

As the first moans were elicited from you, Byakuya stroked your cheek with his free hand and let you lay down on the futon underneath him “Please, allow me to have you. I promise I’ll make sure you are comfortable with me” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

And that, my dear, was an oath he stack up to through the rest of the evening.

TAGS: @byakuyawifey

#grimmjow smut #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow headcanons #grimmjow x you #grimmjow x y/n #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #byakuya x you #byakuya x reader #byakuya smut #byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #ichigo x reader #ichigo x you #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo x y/n #kurosaki ichigo x reader #bleach x reader

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

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Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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optimist-pine · 2 months

Text

Returns

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Daryl finds something in his pack that doesn't belong to him... (ps. it's yours)

Era: Season 2, the farm

A/n: This is a silly little thank you for everyone who's been supporting my writing! If you've liked/commented/reblogged any of my works recently, this is for you. :)

Daryl digs around in his backpack, shoving aside arrow bits and extra clothes in the search for a clean(ish) rag he knows is buried in here somewhere. Ah, there, the glimpse of a red hue must be what he's looking for. He tugs it free, but as he brings it into the daylight it comes to his attention that this piece of cloth doesn't belong to him.

He drops it immediately, head swiveling to make sure nobody saw. But no, he's tucked far away from the rest of the group, not a soul in sight. He gingerly picks up the garment before realizing how ridiculous he's being and shoves it in his pocket. He'll slip into your tent, return it, and get the hell out of there and get on with the rest of his day.

Everyone's either dispersed to other parts of the farm or busy enough completing whatever chores they've taken on to notice him. Even if he didn't already know which tent was yours, it'd be obvious from the plethora of herbs and flowers hanging to dry by the entrance, and the dog-eared foraging guidebook waiting on a lawn chair for your return.

He peers through the screen window to assure himself that you're not around before unzipping the door and stepping inside. A moment too late, he realizes the amount of dirt he's just tracked into your otherwise pristine living space, and curses. Nothing to do about it now he supposes. He squats down, opening your pack and pulling the wayward item out of his pocket.

"Daryl? What're you doing in my-" Your voice makes him jump before your words falter.

His head snaps to you; you're bent down a bit, hands on your hips with sweat dripping down your temple. Your mouth is stuck in a cute little "o" of pure confusion. He's frozen, hand halfway between him and your belongings, lungs stuck mid-breath. He really should say something in his own defense.

"Is that my underwear?" You ask a little more quietly.

"I - uh..." He gapes. He's invading your privacy in so many ways, you're going to think he's a total ass if not a complete creep. And he actually doesn't mind you too much so he doesn't want you to think of him in that way. Not that you think of him at all. But now when you do you're going to hate his guts. "They - uh..." He tries.

"Ohh. I get it." You say, nodding, like this all makes total sense. "I've got something of yours I've been meaning to return, just wasn't sure how to make it not-awkward..." You kneel down beside him, fishing around in a side compartment on your bag. "Buuuut no matter. I believe these belong to you." You hold out a pair of faded boxers that've been rolled up neatly.

"Hey, Rick wants to know if-" Glenn appears in the tent opening and Daryl can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his head as he takes in the two of you so close together, each obviously holding the other's intimates. "Y'know what? Nevermind. Just go talk to Rick when you're done or whatever, okay?" He sighs, walking away.

Daryl wastes no time grabbing his boxers, shoving them in his pocket. You do the same but with more grace, standing to brush off your pants.

You let out a small chuckle, biting down a bit on your lip. "It was so hectic when we left the CDC; must've grabbed each other's stuff then." You step outside and he follows. "Thanks for returning them." You say, stooping to re-zip the tent.

The CDC is such a blur that it takes effort to remember. There weren't enough rooms for everyone and so you'd asked to bunk with him. Even though he was sufficiently intoxicated that night, he'd been lucid enough to appreciate not being alone, your steady breaths in the unsettling darkness had quieted his nerves.

He can't seem to make his eyes stay on you for long, though that doesn't stop your gaze from lingering - he can practically feel every place your eyes land as you study him. "S'no problem." He shrugs.

"Well, I guess I'd better go see what Rick wants..." you sigh, making no noticeable effort to go anywhere.

You're leaving a space for him to say something but he doesn't really have anything to add to that. "Yeah." He replies dumbly.

A soft smile grows upon your lips. "Don't be a stranger, okay? Some of us actually enjoy your company." You nudge his shoulder good-naturedly as you walk away.

He mulls over your words, trying dissect what that last little bit means. You were just being kind, right? He's pretty sure people have barely put up with his company, let alone enjoyed it. Realizing you've already been gone for multiple minutes he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and trudges off, noting that there's at least a few hours of good daylight left to make use of. But those thoughts are still there, nagging, toying with him.

---

A couple of days later, when Daryl returns to his camp after a successful enough trip into the woods, there sits your well-loved guidebook. It's laying on the ground where you must've set it when you stopped by earlier and forgotten it when the two of you headed out. He picks it up, flipping through the bent pages and your frequent notes when he passes one that makes him stop and turn back. Next to chanterelle mushrooms you've scribbled 'Daryl - pair w/ venison' . He hadn't caught game that big since back at the quarry, and even then the geeks got to it first. A small swell of pride rises within him at the thought of you planning ahead in this way, of you counting on him to provide.

The feeling follows him as he settles down for the night. Pulling out a flashlight he figures he might as well see if there's anything he can learn from your book... Or maybe that's just an excuse to search for more of your annotations. He'll have another return to make in the morning, but he can't quite bring himself to mind all that much.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 2 #optimist pine

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natsaffection · 3 months

Note

do you think you could write a second part to the coach fic where during practice natasha convinces reader to sneak off with her and reader gives her a blow job :))

Reward Pt. 2 | N.R

MINORS DNI 18+!

Warnings: G!P Natasha (32), kinda manipulative, blow job

Word count: 870 words

A/n: first time writing a blowjob 🫠

Part 1

The training session was in full swing and the rhythmic sound of sneakers on the pitch provided a familiar backdrop. Concentrated and motivated, the team went through exercises and games under Natasha's watchful eye. Unbeknownst to the rest of the players, there was a secret connection beneath the surface.

Moving through the training routine with precision, you couldn't lose Natasha's gaze. Natasha, standing on the sidelines, had her usual stoic expression, but her eyes told a different story. A subtle grin played on her lips as she watched your maneuvers.

As you dribbled the ball, you felt Natasha's gaze intensify, a gaze that seemed to bear the weight of your secret connection. After a while, Natasha gathered the team together to discuss the nuances of a particular move, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint. Unaware of the hidden dynamics, the rest of the team listened intently as Natasha explained the intricacies of executing a perfect rondo.

“Well, team, the Rondo is a crucial move that can surprise the opponents,” Natasha explained, turning her gaze back to you. “Y/n, you’re at the center, orchestrating the moves. It’s all about precision and quick decisions.”

But you hesitate. "Coach, I'm not sure the Rondo is the best option here. I think a pick-and-roll could open up more scoring opportunities."

There's a brief silence in the gym as Natasha's eyes met yours and the unspoken challenge hung in the air. The team exchanged glances, unaware of the hidden disagreement unfolding before them.

Natasha stepped closer to you, seemingly unfazed. “Everyone else is going according to my plan,” she said loudly in the hall, her eyes never leaving you, “and you’re coming with me.”

Everyone looked at you with pity and you just wanted to sink into the ground in front of her. Natasha didn't looked away and then took a step back to go into her office. You run after her and hear a few whispers of “good luck.”

In Natasha's office, the weight of your opinion still weighed on you, and there was an underlying tension in the air. Natasha turned her gaze to you and lowered her gaze to your lips for a moment. A subtle, knowing smile played on Natasha's lips as she leaned in, her voice becoming a more sultry tone.

“I have to admit, that wasn’t so stupid. But beware of you questioning my competence in front of the team again." You look at her and nod, noticing how Natasha's hands go down to her pants, "Maybe it's time to put your talented mouth to better use. What do you think?"

The proposal hung in the air, laden with a seductive implication that transcended professional boundaries. You were caught in the magnetic pull of Natasha's words and felt heat rising within you.

Natasha unbuckled her belt, unzipped her pants, and then reached in to pull her cock out. The sight already made your mouth water, but you held back and looked into her cold eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?” You barely had a chance to open your mouth before your Head was pushed down and her thick shaft was pushed between your lips.

“Yes, that’s it,” Natasha grunted, pushing herself forward until she was almost down your throat. “The only thing your little mouth is good for, right? Come on, suck it..”

The words stuck in your gut, creating a burning pit of pleasure that rushed down to your pussy, making you moan around the cock in your mouth. Natasha placed her hands on either side of your head and began fucking your mouth in earnest. “Fuck yes, that’s going to cum right down my little slut’s throat,” she gasped. “Yes, right there, y-yes, shit!”

You hesitantly swirled your tongue around the tip of her cock and were pleased when you heard her let out a shuddering "yes."

A little unsure, you moved your knee, came a little closer and wrapped a hand around the base of Natasha’s cock. Then you took more into your mouth, surprised that you were taking up so much space and gasping when you felt Natasha's finger tangle in your hair.

“Careful.” It was all muffled and raspy and quiet in a way that made your stomach clench with both desire and embarrassment. You begin sucking the cock like it was an oversized baby bottle and were rewarded with a deep growl of approval and a rather sharp tug on your hair.

You felt tears forming in your eyes, and you were too distracted by your body's reactions to realize that what you were doing was good. A shot of “Coming” slid down her throat as she came in your mouth, making you cough. You awkwardly try to swallow. One thing was for sure, though: this tasted much stronger than you expected, and you really wondered if you could ever get used to it.

You wipe away her remains and stand back up. Natasha already put her cock back in her pants and looked at you until she came to you and pulled you into a kiss. She let go and also wiped a small residue from your mouth with her thumb, “Good girl. Now let’s finish training outside.”

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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plush-rabbit · 3 months

Text

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money..

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone.

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted.

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between.

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea.

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything.

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back.

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands.

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers.

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes.

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed.

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?” He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.”

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half.

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart.

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.”

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you.

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire.

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain.

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten.

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips.

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.”

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin.

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst.

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands.

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns.

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools.

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it.

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy.

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell.

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers.

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you.

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered.

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble.

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat.

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy.

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval.

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

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ghostwhxxre · 10 months

Text

𝗲𝘂𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮. | ɴꜱꜰᴡ

two big guysss.. and they grab on my thighs, blow up my guts like the 4th of july

just a lil 3some with ghost and könig <3

content: f!reader, p in v, spitroast, degrading names, praising, ghost talks a lot

“shh,” ghost whispers as he sees your face contort into a painful grimace. your pussy writhes in pain as könig’s cock slides inside for the first time, splitting you open. tearing your walls. his big hands grip your hips for leverage and he soon picks up the pace, pounding you from behind.

you look up at ghost kneeling in front of you, your face level with his crotch. his cock is rock hard under his pants and he’s breathing heavy. enjoying the view. your head bobs back and forth with each of könig’s hard thrusts. “do you feel his cock stretching you out, little one?”

a loud moan falls from your lips as you nod, barely able to keep your eyes open. ghost’s hand reaches under you, finding home on your lower stomach. feeling the bulge könig’s cock creates with each thrust. he chuckles. “you poor thing.”

“fuck, LT. she’s so tight,” könig grunts from behind you, and you see the two men exchange a look. ghost’s lips turn into a content smile as he starts unzipping his pants. “you’re taking his cock so well, pet. such a good slut.”

ghost’s cock smacks your face as he pulls down his boxers, and you can’t help but moan against his shaft. he grabs it by the base and slowly traces your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them. just as they open so another moan can fall out, ghost guides his dick down your throat. his hand runs through your hair, holding your head up as he starts fucking your mouth.

“arch that back for me more, liebling,” könig’s hand pushes on your lower back. this new position has his tip jabbing at your sweet spot over and over, and suddenly you feel your muscles tense up. that deep feeling of pressure building up in your core, along with könig slapping your ass has you moaning around ghost’s cock. and he seems to fucking love it. low grunts escape his mouth as he looks down at you, watching his cock disappear between your lips.

you’re close. oh, so close. your mind can barely focus on sucking him off, instead it’s picturing the way könig’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, making you feel good. so good. your mouth goes slack as the moans become more frequent and high-pitched. ghost notices. “are you gonna cum, sweetheart?”

he takes his cock out of your mouth and you gasp for air, letting out a desperate yes. you hear könig chuckle behind you. “already?”

“such a needy whore,” ghost smiles.

waiting for them to give you the green light, you try your best to hold back your orgasm. you focus on the harsh wood floors beneath your knees, the uncomfortable feeling in your neck… anything but their cocks. ghost knows what he’s doing, he’s looking at you with a smirk on his face. watching you try to resist.

just a little more…

“go on.”

finally.

you feel the pressure release as your body shudders, a wave of immense pleasure coursing through you. your pussy contracts around könig’s cock and he moans, slapping your ass and picking up the pace even more. pushing you further into bliss. ghost’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb pulling down your lower lip. “good girl.”

once you come down, ghost’s cock finds your mouth again, this time pushing even further down your throat. all the while könig continues slamming his hips into you, his breathing getting more and more erratic. his moans get more breathy, needy. he’s close.

you feel him bend down to you, his chest flush against your back, hot air fanning your ear. shivers run down your spine. it’s too much. your nose is buried in ghost’s abdomen while könig kisses your neck. both men are letting out low grunts, their breath hitching in their throat.

“i’m gonna cum inside you, engel,” könig whispers in your ear and you moan in response.

just as his thrusts become even faster, more urgent, you feel ghost’s hand on your chin. he tilts your head up slightly while still fucking your mouth, his eyes locking with yours. “look at me while he fills you up.”

so, you do. you flutter your lashes at him as könig grunts one more time before his cock twitches inside you, painting you white. you thought you couldn’t feel any fuller but once his cum spills inside, you are filled to the brim. the second he pulls out you feel the cum drip down your thighs and you moan at the feeling.

ghost’s cock leaves your mouth with a loud pop. the two shift positions, and suddenly könig is right in front of you, his chest still heaving from the orgasm. your pussy clenches as you feel ghost’s hands spreading you open from behind. “clean him up, doll. it’s my turn.”

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #heavily inspired by a certain gonewild audio iykyk

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bangchansdirty-slut · 2 months

Note

Can you write soobin x male reader where soobin gets jealous of m/n hanging out with his friends and ignores him so the m/n make it up to him

Paring: Top!Soobin x Bottom!Male reader

Genre: Smut

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Sorry for the delay. Got food poisoning and had to catch up on schoolwork. Hope you enjoy it! Also, I mistakenly disabled anonymous requests. But now it's fixed! Please feel free to request anonymously.

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city as Soobin stood outside the dormitory. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease in his gut. His boyfriend, M/n, had been spending more and more time with the other members, leaving Soobin feeling increasingly ignored and jealous. It didn't help that the dormitory, which had once been their safe haven, now felt more like a place where Soobin was constantly reminded of his boyfriend's growing attachment to his members.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way back to his car. The air was cool against his skin, a welcome relief from the suffocating heat that had been hanging over the city for days. As he drove home, his mind raced with thoughts of confronting M/n and demanding more of his attention.

When he finally arrived at M/n's apartment, his stomach was in knots. He hadn't seen his boyfriend since they'd left the dorm, and he couldn't help but feel anxious about what M/n might be doing with the other members. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before knocking on the door.

M/n answered the door a moment later, looking up at Soobin with a warm smile. "Hey, baby. I'm glad you're here. I missed you." His voice was soft and reassuring, and it made some of Soobin's tension start to ease. "I was just about to order dinner. Do you want anything in particular?"

Soobin hesitated for a moment, still feeling a little hurt, but he forced a smile back. "I'm not really hungry," he lied. "I just wanted to see you." He stepped inside, glancing around the familiar apartment. "How was your day?"

M/n followed him in, closing the door behind them. "It was alright. We just hung out and talked about music, you know?" He walked over to Soobin, wrapping his arms around him. "I missed you too. I'm sorry I've been spending so much time with the others. I didn't mean to make you feel left out."

Soobin leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. "It's okay," he said softly. "I understand. I just… wanted to be with you tonight." He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the remaining bitterness. "Can I… can I spend the night?"

M/n pulled back, his eyes searching Soobin's face. There was a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his expression. "Of course, baby. I want you to stay. I'm sorry I've been such a shitty boyfriend lately." He kissed Soobin softly on the lips, his tongue teasing the seam. "How about I make it up to you?"

Soobin smiled, returning the kiss more eagerly this time. "I'd like that," he murmured, running his hands up M/n's chest. He felt a thrill of anticipation course through him as he thought about what M/n might have in store.

M/n led Soobin over to the couch, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed. He could feel Soobin's erection pressing against his thigh, and the knowledge that his boyfriend was turned on by him filled him with a sudden rush of desire. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Why don't you take off your clothes, baby? I want to see all of you."

Soobin nodded, beginning to unbutton his shirt. As he peeled it off, revealing his chest, he caught M/n's appreciative gaze and felt a wave of heat spread through him. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before M/n in nothing but his underwear.

M/n licked his lips, taking in the sight of Soobin's bare chest and the prominent erection straining against his boxer briefs. He moved closer, running his hands up Soobin's thighs, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin. He kissed Soobin again, more roughly this time, their tongues tangling together as they explored each other's mouths.

Breaking the kiss, M/n pushed Soobin back onto the couch, straddling his hips. He leaned forward, taking one of Soobin's nipples into his mouth and sucking hard. Soobin let out a small groan as pleasure coursed through him. M/n moved lower, kissing and nipping his way down Soobin's stomach, before finally reaching his target. He grabbed Soobin's boxer briefs and tugged them down, freeing his erection.

Soobin gasped as M/n wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently at first and then with more force. He arched his back, his hands fisting in the couch cushions. M/n bobbed his head, taking more of Soobin into his mouth, the hot wetness surrounding him sending shivers of pleasure through his body. He felt M/n's hand grip his hip, guiding him in deeper, and he moaned, thrusting his hips forward in time with M/n's movements.

M/n pulled off, lips wet and shining with Soobin's essence. He looked up at Soobin, their eyes meeting in a heated gaze. "You taste so good," he whispered before leaning down to take one of Soobin's nipples into his mouth, sucking roughly as he began to stroke him again. Soobin felt himself close to the edge, his hips bucking up into each thrust of M/n's hand.

With a growl, Soobin flipped them over, pinning M/n beneath him. He positioned himself between M/n's legs, feeling the heat and wetness of his entrance as he slowly lowered himself down. He thrust forward, feeling the head of his cock press against M/n's prostate. M/n arched his back, letting out a gasp as the sensation overtook him. Soobin began to move, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he lost himself in the pleasure of being inside M/n's body.

The friction of their skin together was exquisite, and M/n's moans only fueled Soobin's desire. He grabbed M/n's hips, holding him tightly as he thrust deeper and harder. M/n's ass was incredibly tight, and it felt incredible as he bottomed out inside of him. Soobin knew he couldn't last much longer. He began to thrust faster, harder, feeling the familiar tightness building in his groin.

As he neared his release, he reached down between them, finding M/n's half-hard cock. He stroked it in time with his thrusts, guiding it to his entrance. When M/n's cock was fully embedded in his hand, he squeezed, feeling the softness give way as it hardened under his touch. M/n arched his back, crying out his pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Soobin thrust harder, feeling the pressure build in his own groin. He could feel his cum rising, ready to spill free. He looked down at M/n, watching as his own thrusts pushed his cock deeper inside of him, stretching the tight muscles. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a growl, he released himself, thrusting powerfully as his seed spilled into M/n's body.

M/n arched his back, crying out in ecstasy as he felt Soobin's hot cum filling him up. His own orgasm overtook him, his body tensing and spasming as he came, shooting his own load deep inside of Soobin. The sensation was overwhelmingly pleasurable, and he clung to Soobin, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of bliss.

As the aftershocks of their climaxes began to subside, they lay there together, panting and sweaty. M/n wrapped his arms around Soobin, feeling the warmth of his skin against his own. They stayed like that for several minutes, catching their breath and reveling in the closeness they shared.

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politemenacephd · 2 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara X Reader (+18)

♥ You lose a bet with Miguel at the local bar and have to keep quiet while he gets his 𝓻𝓮𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 in the bathroom ♥

Content: Public sex, Voyeurism, PinV sex, Size kink, Silent orgasm, Creampie.

Notes: No gendered terms are used. Reader is described wearing a skirt tho so just be aware x

Word count: 1,200

‘Shh, shh.’

Miguel’s voice filled your ear, his quiet shushing just barely audible.

The low, muffled music from inside the main bar echoed into the quiet stall. It should have been the only noise here, but there was something just beneath it that seemed out of place. The faint sound of rustling fabric, underlined by the soft echo of skin smacking against skin.

Your breath came out in a shaky, stunted pant.

You were holding on for dear life.

You’d gone out drinking with Miguel at your favourite bar. He’d dressed up for the occasion, ditching his suit for tight jeans and a white shirt with a leather jacket on top that was just a little too small, and for the first time you’d decided to go out in a skirt.

You should have noticed he was behaving differently. The usually quiet and stoic man was just a little too jovial, perhaps a little too interested. You’d brushed it off.

It’s been fine at first; you got a few drinks, you chatted about work, but as the night wound on you’d made a fatal mistake. After one too many taunts Miguel had sarcastically placed down a bet, and like a fool you’d taken it.

You should have known he could drink more than you. He was twice your size, and a superhuman to boot. He knew that too, and that’s why he’d made his conditions for winning so specific.

When you inevitably lost you were mortified, yes, but you were anything but untrue to your word.

Now you were in the third stall at the back of the bar bathroom, with your cute little skirt hitched over your thighs and his jeans unzipped, and you were being bounced mercilessly up and down on the end of his enormous cock.

He was being mean about it too. He had one hand on your ass and the other on your face, his calloused thumb pressed to your wet lips, all so he could admire the agony in your face from trying to suppress the screams.

His jeans muffled the sound of you bouncing on his lap, but neither of you could quell how wet you were. The subtle squelch was clear as he rutted between your legs, his thick shaft splitting you open until you oozed slick.

You couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t stand how you’d bitten your hand to stop crying his name when he first pushed in, how he’d seen you drooling and mewling for it as he started to pump.

You shouldn’t have joked he was average sized. You were paying for it now.

You tried to slow down to muffle that erotic noise but he refused. His face was all you could focus on in the tiny stall, and you could see how much he was enjoying this, the sick fuck.

His hazy red eyes, his parted lips, the flash of his tongue as he stifled another groan. You watched his eyes roll as he nuzzled your cervix, bathing in the sensory overload of your tight, wet pussy squeezing the life out of his fat cock.

When his eyes opened again his lips tilted into a smirk. He mouthed the words to you:

‘Sore loser.’

Right as he spoke you felt his bulbous member creaming all over your cervix, smearing you with pre-cum as he thrust up into your guts. You bit your lip so hard it bled, desperate to stop any noise escaping, but fuck it was so hard.

You could hear people laughing as they walked by outside, as your body was jostled up and down on Miguel’s lap.

He was struggling to not pant at this point. You could feel the sweat on his thick, muscled, hairy thighs beneath you. You were both sweaty, both shaking.

His thick fingers dug deep into the fat of your hips as he pounded upward. You winced a little in his grip.

‘Too big?’ he mouthed. You shot him a look that could kill, and he ate it up.

‘So tight’ he mouthed dreamily. ‘So pretty.’

You felt the heat rising in your body as he pumped harder. You could feel his veins pulsing on your soft, squishy walls, and you knew he was painting you with his pre-cum. It was both arousing and embarrassing.

Even if you didn’t get caught here, you’d have to walk back into that bar like nothing happened, covering your ruined panties, knowing his cum was sitting in your tight cunt all the way home.

His eyes narrowed and he licked his fang, his smirk growing bigger. He was thinking the same thing.

In the silence of the stall he continued to fuck you hard. He wanted to ride this out, to have you ride him until you could barely walk, but it felt too good. He could feel his muscles tightening with a desire to fill you, own you, to empty out all of his seed into that perfect wet space.

But he needed one more thing first. With a soft grunt he moved his hand, lifting your skirt up so he could watch his cock impaling your creamy little pussy, before settling his thumb over your clit.

‘MMF—’

You tugged at his shirt, your face screwed up tight as you shook your head. You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t be quiet. You were dripping slick onto his stupid jeans, you were about to cum all over his stupid cock. He dug his nails in hard as he pushed you, throwing you back on his lap as he fucked you into submission.

‘Do it’ he mouthed at you dumbified face, ‘do it. Do it.’

It was right at that moment that the bathroom door swung open. A flood of noise filled the room as a group of girls came in to touch up their makeup in the bathroom mirror, forcing you to bite your hand again.

It felt too good to stop. You didn’t care if you got caught.

Their laughter just barely covered the sound of your orgasm. You trembled in agony as you spasmed on his cock, and with that smug grin still on his lips he rode out every second of your pleasure. With wide and manic eyes Miguel came with you.

You felt everything. You felt his cock pulse and expand as he shot the first spurt of cum inside you, hot and thick and warm, and then the next, and the next, and the next. You felt his clawed fingers digging into your hips so hard that it left a mark. You saw his eyes rolling, his fangs digging into his lower lip to stop screaming.

Through the haze of pleasure, you took the smallest bit of victory in knowing Miguel would have screamed your name too.

He emptied himself inside you before carefully lifting you off his lap.

He was kind enough to help you stand, and to help pull your panties and tights up. He had the gall to kiss you on the cheek as he stood, his own legs unphased by what he’d done, and then he did the worst thing imaginable.

He pushed open the stall door and left.

You heard the girls all go silent as he strolled past and out of the main door. You heard the continued silence as you stood, shaking, in the now open stall, just barely concealed from their curious eyes. You clung to the wall and closed your eyes.

‘You… fucking asshole’ you hissed.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #smut #+18 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine

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friendofthecrows · 2 years

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I don't have any advice for the inability to maintain the daily streaks thing but I just wanted to say I struggle with the same problem and totally understand how frustrating it is, mine is more "can maintain it for awhile until one day I decide to take a break and never touch it again".

Yeah (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Good luck to us both ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)b

#unzip your guts #good bestie #routines...hard

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rainylana · 11 months

Text

“See you in home room.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: an interesting interaction between you and your bully on the bus.

warnings: bully!eddie, he’s a meanie, language, smut, public fingering, spanking in a smut flashback, enemies to lovers trope, dirty talk.

a/n: i’ve been obsessed with bully eddie i hope you’re living for these posts as much as i have been lmfao. also really happy with how this turned out i’m in love lol.

Your relationship with Eddie was special. Well, not special, and it wasn’t a relationship. More of a…situation-ship. You hated each other’s guts. You despised him and he despised you. He was cruel to you, picked on you and called you horrible names. You took it, turned the other cheek and buried all your horrible thoughts about him deep down, clutching your cross necklace every time you did so.

You hated it, but your feelings for Eddie had slowly developed over time. He touched you in ways that no man had ever before, said things to you that made your skin shiver. Eddie just knew how to do it right. He was a cocky bastard about it, too. He knew he was good. Your situation had started when you moved. Two years ago, from california to hawkins, indiana.

Today was not a good day, one where for the first time in forever, you didn’t want Eddie’s attention, nor did you want anyones. You had so much homework, finals to study for, chores to attempt at when you got home. It was just one of those days where you felt overstimulated and stressed. Normally, Eddie knew how to take care of you.

You couldn’t really remember the first time you had slept with him. After a heated brawl led a steaming make out, turning into a quickie that had rocked your world. And that was that. But Eddie made one thing clear to you everytime he was done fucking you. He always said he hated you. Sometimes he’d spit in your mouth when he’d say it, smack your ass or yank your hair.

Today however, you didn’t want any of that. You wanted to be left alone.

You were seated on the backseat of the school bus, rocking back and forth as you and everyone else bounced from the roughness of the gravel road. You stared out the window, sad and depressed, mind unfocused and stressed. Eddie made the mistake of plopping down beside you.

“Do you have it?” He smacked his gum.

You didn’t look at him as you unzipped your backpack and pulled out the biology homework, giving it to him to copy on his own worksheet.

“Sweet.” He nodded to himself, taking it from your hands as he pulled out a pencil from his pocket.

You turned back to look out the window, ignoring his presence. You’d learned long ago not to interfere with him copying your work. He’d make you pay if you did. Besides, you typically adored the attention he gave you for it, even if he was a mean son of a bitch.

“Why so quiet?” He continued to copy down answers, tongue sticking out.

“Huh?” Your eyes squinted from the sun.

“You’re quiet.” He retorted. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s actually quite nice, but it’s odd since you don’t ever stop yapping. So what is it?” He still didn’t look at you, his thick, veiny arm brushing against yours.

You didn’t roll your eyes like you normally did. “Oh.” You blinked. “Sorry.”

“You on your period?” He gave you a quick glance through his lashes.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh my, god, just- just hurry up.”

He snickered and nodded. “So that’s a yes.”

“No,” You huffed. “I’m tired. Not that it’s any of your business.”

His pencil tapped against the paper before he put it back in his pocket. When he finally looked at you, his face was solemn as he handed you back the paper. “You’re awful mouthy today.”

You couldn’t help but glance at his lips. He didn’t miss it, either.

“Do you need anything else?” You raised your chin daringly. “Because I sure don’t feel like dealing with your shit today.”

“My, my,” He raised a brow. “She’s awful brave today.” His words made your thighs warm. It was hard to stay in a bad mood when he looked at you like that.

“I’m just trying to make it through the day, Munson.” You rolled your eyes, looking forward.

“Well,” He licked his lips. “I don’t think I need to remind you what happened the last time you smarted off to me, so I’d tread lightly, sweetheart.” He hooked a finger under your chin and turned your face back to him.

Your cheeks burned at the memory.

“I said count them or I’m starting over.” Eddie warned, hand squeezing the flesh of your ass as he smacked it hard. You squealed, crying out against his lap that you were bent over. He’d been at it repeatedly, bringing his thick hands down over and over, all because you’d directed one little curse word at him.

“I can’t,” You blubbered, snot and tears dripping down into your lips and onto the floor of the abandoned drama room. “Please, Eddie- touch me,”

“No,” He said sternly, continuing your punishment with a heavy hand. “You haven’t earned it, but you have earned this.”

He watched the memory replay in your eyes and he smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced, you looked down to his lips again, moving in slightly.

“Ah, ah,” He pushed you back gently. “You know the rules.”

You did. He made them loud and clear every chance he got. No one was to know of your business with him. He didn’t like people knowing what he did with you. You wondered maybe if it was because he cared about you. He loved the admirational look you got in your eyes when you looked at him, like you’d be willing to do anything for him. Even take a life. It made him unbelievably hard.

His hand went to your thigh, dangerously close to your pussy. “But since my good girl is having a hard day, maybe I can bend the rules for once, huh?”

Your stomach ached at his words as you nodded. You leaned back in for a kiss.

“No,” He rolled his eyes, making you frown. “Keep your eyes to the front. Make sure no one sees.”

You were confused with his instructions, but you listened and looked to the front with a beat red face. There wasn’t very many kids left on the bus, only the byers and your neighbors.

You gasped when his fingers went up your skirt, and he pinched your skin as a warning. “Keep it down,” He said sternly. “Gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, keeping your eyes trained forward, hands gripping the seat as his fingers grazed the fabric of your underwear.

“What happens when you’re not a good girl?” His padded thumb swiped over your clit, his index finger moving aside your panties to dip into your warm cunt.

“I get punished.” Your lips parted into in o shape.

“You like when I punish you?” He asked, curiosity peaked in the back of his throat.

Your belly twisted as he entered a finger inside of you, his thumb working quickly on your clit.

“Hurry,” You blinked, whining as your house got closer and closer.

“Quit your whining or I’ll stop.” He growled. “Be a good girl.” He did as you asked, however, devoted to you in his own sick ways as he fingered you sloppily and quickly.

You leaned back into your seat, hands on your knees to spread your legs apart. Your slick cunt was easy for him to enter his other digits inside of you at a quick pace, and he kept his eyes on you the entire time, making sure you kept yours at the front of the bus. He thrusted them in and out, the loud squelch of your arousal only heard by the his ears.

His thumb pressed against your clit like a button, pressing and pushing, making you pulse and shake. He let you look away when your orgasm came, and you shriveled up into a ball, bending your body over against the seat.

He pulled his fingers out and wiped the shiny wetness off on your skirt. “See you in home room.” He smirked before standing, leaving you a hot, sweaty mess as your house finally came into view.

#lana’s shit post #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut

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