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rileysluvr · 8 months

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super short price nsfw because i am his girlie til the day i die. he’s a bit of a meanie in this one tho so read with caution!!

“Again,” he orders.

You take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to somewhat ground yourself, but it’s a difficult feat when you're being held down on your surperior’s hard lap by his big arm splayed over your hips. A thick, dusty book on the desk in front of you, flipped to the page that entirely covers the military-workplace regulations he was scolding you for until tears began to bead at your waterline. You don’t think you’ve ever been this humiliated.

Your vision is blurry, and it’s at that point where your memory serves you better than what you’ve been ordered to do, which is to read until you can’t. He’s broken you down to a writhing mess atop his thigh as both of yours can only drape over one of his huge ones. Back flush against his chest with his palm rubbing your pussy in all the right ways; you swallow thickly, wondering if you can even go on any longer in this state.

“Fifty-nine, oh-one: ‘Service personnel are to wear-” you pause to breathe, fighting back a stutter, “…appropriate regulation uniform on duty—”

A bashful whimper cuts you off mid-recitement as he somehow manages to shove his two fingers even deeper into your cunt, nudging against your nerves rather harshly. Your legs squeeze around his thigh and your hands twitch in their place wrapped around to your sides. All the willpower in your body being used to keep yourself from bucking your hips forward and earning another half-hour of degrading names and treatment.

“Did you hear me tellin’ you to stop?” he barks, but it’s in that calmer manner that spins your mind around until you can’t decipher the difference between anger and sympathy. You shake your head, and you don’t need to have a visual on his face to feel the disapproval teetering off his bitten tongue and firm expression. “Then why don’t I hear you reading, eh?”

Your voice trembles, almost enough for him to take pity on you; “Sir, please- I’m trying.”

You weren’t even on duty today, for fuck’s sake. You had stopped by to pick up a personal belonging, only to be reminded how your captain views you as his own the second you step foot through the base’s front gate. And you were never good at avoiding his stalking gaze, especially when he’s got access to eyes stationed at every nook and corner.

“Christ, y’need me to spell it out for you? Is that it?” he scoffs. “How many times’ve we been over this?”

The way he berates and babies you has your cheeks stained and glistening with tears, and your mind all jumbled considering how easily he switches back and forth from mean to soft. Soft like how his fingers pull out and away from your cunt and hold themselves just far enough to make you shift your hips forward in search of them, only to be held back by his arm’s weight. Mean like his spat words and the grip with which he grabs your jaw, squeezing tight and puffing your cheeks out a bit in an attempt to get you to focus; to knock some sense into that strained, precious little brain of yours.

“Pretty fuckin’ simple task for a soldier, if y’ask me.”

Because deep down, he truly cares about your well-being. He only wants the best for his girl, and the dynamic between you.

And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your superior even more than you already have, now, would you?

He lets go of your face to allow you to finish, a nervous and newfound quietness croaking in your throat in addition to your already shy voice after his display of aggression; “—except when otherwise ordered by a Commanding Officer…’”

“Good girl,” he drags upon your completion, along with his hand that sneaks back into your panties. You jump from the coldness of his skin but he barely pays any mind to it. “Keep going for me, now, pretty. Go ‘head and skip some.”

It’s a repeated process; you recite what you know, mess up due to his cruel ways of sadistic teasing, and watch on from the outside as your self-respect crumbles so easily. You acknowledge it, you feel it, and you willingly ignore it because you know that whatever he plans on giving you afterwards will far surpass any other means to pleasure.

His time, his teachings and guidance, his own pleasure. They’re better than gifts, really.

“‘No item of uniform which has not been authorized is to be worn.’” You mumble for the entirety of the final sentence, now expecting him to get on you for not speaking clearly enough.

Instead, his middle finger delves between your folds and dips into your cunt at last, ripping a hiss and another whine from high in your throat from his rough treatment.

“And who authorizes your uniform?” he finally asks.

He adds his ring finger and the fullness in your cunt would be uncomfortable if the heel of his palm wasn’t digging into your clit at the particular angle. It numbs the stretch and your worries, so much so you nearly forget what he had asked you.

You gasp, eyes shooting open to meet cold, empty office in stark contrast to the warm, staggering frame pressed up against your back. Every muscle and every flex beneath the cotton material of his shirt being embedded into your mind.

“You do, Sir—mph!—it’s only you.”

An approving rumble from his chest vibrates against your back, and you lean into him with a soft moan when he curls his fingers upward in that way he knows you respond to the best. Head leant back on his shoulder, you hold onto his arm to stabilize your spinning mind once he begins slipping his rough fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy more firmly.

“So you show up to base in this pretty, little dress on your off-day, and expect to leave here without any punishment?”

His words exceed intimidating to a great extent, but the way he coos them so gently right by your ear leads directly to you scrambling them into nothing more than sweet blurbs and mumbles. He continues his short scolding as if he doesn’t know how dumb he’s got you already, ready to make you bite the consequences for your inability to respond to him later.

“Distractin’ me ‘nd all the other men here while we work, like you don’t know what your body does to them. What you’re worth around here, to the lot of bastards falling asleep with their dicks in their hands to the pretty image of you dressed like this,” he emphasizes with the tug of your dress’s ending hem.

“Sir,” you whine, not paying a single nod to his language because your numbed mind can simply no longer compute it. Muffled and unclear, though the mean and deep drawl that bleeds through pushes you all the much closer to bliss.

“Feels good, I—please… ’m so, so close, Sir—!”

You whine and clasp your hand down on his arm for some sort of spiritual stabilization, and he only picks up the pace. He works you up so quickly after edging you for what felt like hours, as this time he gives absolutely no notion to relenting.

“That right?” Of course, you can’t respond with much more than a whimper as you rock your hips back and forth on his hard thigh, his skilled fingers working you up to ecstasy.

“Yes, yes ‘m gonna—it’s too much, Sir, ‘m gonna come—!”

He chuckles, his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer into him. You convulse around his fingers and moan through your high as he militantly, yet somehow so expertly, turns your vision to stars and your limbs into a limp mess atop him. It’s like he knows your body better than you do yourself, making you come harder with his fingers alone than anyone has ever. You thank him profusely, soft words of mantra like music to his ears as he decides what to do with you next.

He gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping both his hefty arms around you and hauling you up in front of him, big palm instantly meeting with your shoulder blade to shove you down on the wooden desk and ripping a gasp from high in your lungs. He leans over you, caging you in as he soothes his hand across your forehead; his version of intimacy, and whatnot.

You’re panting, utterly exasperated, but simply can’t help the way you wiggle your hips back against his to chase that good friction. He laughs at your display of neediness for his cock, knowing it’ll be a much longer while before he’ll let you have it.

“My stupid fuckin’ toy,” he mutters softly against your skin, and it sounds just as good as any flattering compliment would.

He takes the hem of your dress and hikes it up to reveal your ass, humming at the sight before leaning back in to kiss your temple. Facial hair tickling and invading your senses, nearly feeling like a sweet treat to shush the way you whine out with his hard bulge pressed up against where you’re most sensitive.

Thoughts of what he could do to you right now running rampant through both of your minds, none differing from each other nor unwanted from either party.

“You’re gonna let me use this body however I like, until you learn to behave yourself ‘round your coworkers. Till you learn a fuckin’ lesson for once. Sound quite alright, sweetheart?”

#cod mw2 #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price smut

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icyminghao · 11 months

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made with love

pairing: dad!joshua x fem!reader genre: fluff warning(s): food mentions

requested by @notarshia: Heyy I really like the father's day fic with mingyu I was hoping if you could do a father's day fic with joshua :))) thankyou so much<33

summary: joshua wakes up to quite the commotion, and you’re not by his side.

A resounding bang that reverbrates through the house and a series of hisses following that is what rudely wakes Joshua from his peaceful slumber.

Groaning, Joshua rolls over and tries to drape his arm over your figure, only to be met with nothing. His eyes shoot open to see your side of the bed empty, and he sighs. Joshua hates waking up without you beside him. Joshua strains to listen for any more sounds outside, and briefly hears his daughters’ harmonious giggles. He sighs again and gets up to investigate the noise, a smile creeping up his face.

“You’re supposed to put the syrup first!” he hears the older twin, Jiyoon, as her loud complaint booms through the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter! I want to put the blueberries first!” Jihyo whines back with the same energy, and Joshua chuckles, the kitchen now in full view.

In front of him are his two daughters struggling to prepare a plate of what Joshua can only assume to be pancakes from their earlier conversation. Towering behind them is a very amused you, who make no move to quell the possible argument breaking out between your twin daughters.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, stupid! These pancakes are for daddy!” Jiyoon tells her sister off in an annoyed tone, and Joshua can’t help but feel his heart swell at how they’re taking this so seriously.

“Hmph! Do whatever you want, then!” Jihyo huffs and turns around, meeting eyes with her father.

“Daddy!” Jihyo screams, running into her father’s open arms. Joshua grins widely at his daughter, picking her up and spinning her around. “Hey, you.”

Jiyoon notices her father, too, and bolts out of the kitchen to wrap her arms around his leg. “Daddy! You’re supposed to be sleeping…”

“Sorry, sweetheart, Daddy decided to wake up earlier today,” Joshua smiles, picking Jiyoon up with his free arm. “what were you guys making?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jihyo makes a big gesture with her hands, and Joshua beams at her in endearment.

“Daddy, can you go back to sleep? We want to surprise you,” Jiyoon tugs at her father’s shirt, making her best puppy eyes at him.

Joshua chuckles in disbelief and turns to you, who shrugs with the most lovesick expression written on your face.

“Okay, girls, whatever you say,” Joshua sighs, gently putting the girls back down before going back into your shared bedroom, not missing the way his girls scramble into the kitchen to continue preparing the ‘surprise’.

Joshua lies on your side of the bed and starts scrolling through his phone, and the door opens soon after. In pops Jiyoon and Jihyo, both holding a plate of pancakes together. The pancakes in question are look too good to have been made by a pair of four-year-olds, but Joshua pushes the observation to the back of his mind. It’s drizzled with maple syrup and littered with blueberries just how Joshua likes it, and his heart swells with pride.

“Happy fathers’ day, Daddy!” Jihyo and Jiyoon exclaim in unison, presenting the pancakes to Joshua. His expression turns soft at the sight of his two daughter standing in front of him, clearly nervous to see their father’s reaction towards the surprise.

“Thank you, my little princesses, I’ll enjoy the meal well,” Joshua chuckles, patting both of their heads before taking the plate of pancakes from them. The girls squeal in satisfaction at Joshua’s reaction.

“Okay, girls, it’s time for you to take a shower now,” the girls turn around at your familiar voice to see you leaning against the doorframe with the biggest smile on your face, and they scramble out of your bedroom after giving you and Joshua a kiss on the cheek, one twin in charge of one cheek.

“Did they plan this on their own?” Joshua asks as you sit down beside him on the bed, taking in your exhausted features with a slight frown on his face. “What time did you wake up for this? You had a long day at work yesterday,”

You smile softly, tucking Joshua’s hair behind his ear. “It’s okay, I wanted to do it. The girls got the idea from Jeonghan and bugged me to help them with it last night.”

“Jeonghan, huh?” Joshua cocks an eyebrow in amusement, proceeding to dig into the pancakes.

“He’s their favourite uncle, for sure,” you chuckle, “so, are the pancakes good?”

“It’s really good,” Joshua says with food stuffed in his mouth, and it takes you a while to understand what he said. Smiling brightly once you realised what he said, you poke his cheek adoringly.

“Of course, babe,” you pinch his cheek softly, “don’t tell the girls I told you this, but they only decorated the pancake with syrup and blueberries.”

Joshua simply chuckles. “Well, I’m incredibly touched that the women of my life pulled this together for me.”

You beam at him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Happy fathers’ day, baby.”

a/n: i am aware that fathers’ day is well over but every day is fathers’ day okay

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @belladaises @xomingyu @pepperonidk

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unholyhelbig · 1 month

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I just want to say I'm already hooked on the beast you made me. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 5151

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, animal bones, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Thank you all for the overwelming support on the first chapter! I truly didn't expect that much reception. I'm going to be traveling for the next week so the next chapter might be delayed a bit]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

1917, Rural Pennsylvania

A sweeping river cut through the patch of sweetgrass on the south side of the farm. It emitted a gurgling sound that often soothed your nerves. There was a rocky clearing sandwiched between the tree line and the plain of grass that had become a perfect spot for you to settle in and read the hard-covered books you’d gotten from the corner store.

Your father would bring back any book you requested from the city during his travels. You devoured them faster than he could provide them and had read ‘Eight Cousins’ ,Lousia May Alcott’s foray into the adventures thirteen-year-old Rose, enough to nearly tear the pages from the binding.

The book itself held the clean honeyed scent of the earth, of the secluded spot that you called your own. Your muscles would thrum from loading the bales of hay into your fathers ford. Your fingers were calloused, and dirt caked around your ankle in a dark ring. All of that vanished when you cracked open the book about a girl that was so much like yourself.

It was easy to lose yourself in the paragraphs, the hum of the river sometimes lulling you to sleep. Your mother would pack you a sandwich on warm, hand-kneaded bread, usually some salted meat and mayonnaise. She’d pack sweet tea and send you on your way, knowing that you wouldn’t return to the house until you saw a flicker of a firefly.

Today, you’d fallen asleep under the sun. The book was discarded, and your forearm draped across your eyes. It was easy to drift, and easier still to dream about leaving the small dairy farm for something bigger- the very city that your father would return from with new literature and arts, and spices that made your mouth buzz with flavor.

You were in a haze when the ear-piercing scream cut through the air as if it were a natural solid. Your ears pinched at the sound, heels digging into the coarse sandy shore. Maybe it was a dream. It could have been an animal that had sunk its pointed teeth into the artery of another.

So, you waited, panting with your heart in your chest and the corner of the book barely lapped by the muddied water. And there was this sound. It was no fox caught in a trap or bovine tangled up in the barbed wire fence around the property- no, this was familiar. This was your sister.

Helena was quiet, often described as demure and borderline submissive. Despite being younger than yourself she carried a certain poise about her. Mother would often boast about how she would have no trouble finding a husband, how the boys already fawned over the child of hers that was not feral and unkempt.

Her cry was the loudest you had ever heard her and it had you on your feet, scrambling up the bank. Once past your small world of wonder, you were greeted with an endless sea of sweetgrass that was waist high in some areas.

A warm breeze created waves against the landscape, the farmhouse a small speck among the expanse of land. Your head was spinning, it was hard to track exactly where it had come from. It took another cracking screech to set you North.

Your legs pumped until you were consumed in a blind speed. You’d been renowned for your quickness, for your dedication to get from point A to point B. The kids in your town often joked that you were steadier than a steed. Not only were you the fastest in the class, but the fastest in the county according to some. Still- only a child of fifteen, and no man would want to wed someone with speed. It wasn’t a practical skill.

There was a pit deep in your stomach whirled, instinct knowing precisely where Helena was yowling from.

Jorge had gotten there at the same time you did; his brow was leaking with sweat and he panted against the hot air that surrounded you both. Your older brother was tall and lanky, serpent-like with beady black eyes and pitch hair to match your father’s. His shirt hung low against his midsection, his skin pale despite his hours in the sun working the fields.

“Stay back, y/n.” He demanded sharply.

The old well was a mere foot in front of you both but neither made the effort to move forward. The aged wooden plank that covered the stone shaft had been splintered through the middle, worn from age and weather.

Helena’s soft cries echoed up. When your father had first acquired the property, the previous owners explained that it had been boarded up after of the bulls had fallen down and snapped it’s neck. It was too large to pull out and they left it to starve and then rot.

Your father never let any of his children peer down into the well. You wondered if something had pulled Helena here, or if she had simply forgotten of it’s existence. Jorge dropped down to his knees and did a cautious crawl as if his own two feet couldn’t’ hold him anymore.

You saw the exact moment his skin became waxier, almost a gray porcelain paleness that had a green tint. He was swallowing too much, his white shirt coated in the red clay dirt.

“What?” You asked, voice breaking “What is it?”

“Go get Mama.”

It would have been easy to listen to your brother. He was the man of the house when your father wasn’t there but with him pleading for your mother, for an adult, you got a rancid taste in your mouth.

Against your better judgement you edged close enough to the abandoned well. The sun was setting in a fire-filled orange haze with enough color and angle to get a good view of the bottom; a slosh of fallen grass and rainwater, and muck, and yes; the bones of a beast once left to decay and rot in its own silence.

Your sister was wedged within the ribcage of the befallen bull, almost as if she replaced the beating heart that stopped pulsing long ago. Her hands gripped at the sun-bleached bone, knuckles nearly the same color.

It took you a moment to make out the slick, and the red that stemmed from the center of her stomach. The head of the bull had shattered under her weight, all expect the stretching length of it’s curved horn. That was wedged through her abdomen, surrounded in a vibrant rose red that puddled and had already coated her hands.

Prints from her struggle were against the limestone edges of the well. Her eyes pleaded up at you; your kind and caring, and animal-loving sister was trapped inside the remains of one. You fought back the urge to vomit, the rash thought that if the bone ripping through her flesh didn’t kill her, then infection would.

“Y/n get mama!” Jorge hissed again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. You nearly tripped over your own boots with the fever it took to back away from the scene, the metallic scent of blood mixing deliciously with the turn of rotted soil.

You had never run so fast in your life.

Wanda Maximoff had never felt the cold that wormed its way to her bones before. It was the type of cold that almost wasn’t, a stinging, horrible feeling that had her startled from the folded metal chair. It collapsed within itself as the blinked the wine-dark color from her eyes.

She stumbled backward, only to be brought back to the starkness of the room by a soft grip on her elbow. Wanda allowed herself to be held, if not for stability but for comfort. Steve Rodgers had a welcoming hand on the small of her back, the other steadying her.

He was a solid force, and her reaction stirred him.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from her lips, “Jesus Christ.”

There was quietness to the room in the aftershock of the fallen chair. It was nicer than a standard holding cell. The walls were cream colored, triple enforced to keep people like you inside. There was a bed bolted to the wall, a bunk that was almost like a summer camp endeavor.

A charged glass wall was blocking you from the rest of the world. It was seemingly unbreakable, and in this moment, so were you. Wanda didn’t want to test the glass, nor did she know how to make sense of the memories- your memories- that had flooded every inch of her body.

You were asleep, chest rising and falling at a normal pace, as if none of what Wanda had just seen was flitting around your mind. Soft snores pushed past your lips, one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the other followed the flow of your breathing as it rested on your chest.

Wanda didn’t understand the secrecy and the precaution that surrounded you. The Avengers compound was a constant ebb and flow of different heroes, Inhumans and mutants. What made you so different? What made you an 0-8-4?

It was a term that Natasha had used only once that was usually attached to objects, not a person. It was an object of unknown origin and in that case, it was a power-filled object from space. Space. She’d been through different dimensions, but that, for some reason, struck her as terrifying.

0-8-4’s were never brought here, but then again, they’d never been alive either. Steve had told her that your energy signal was off the charts, and that they wanted her to dig around your head. Something that she denied doing at first. It was an invasion of privacy.

But, there was a certain pleading within Captain America’s eyes that scared Wanda more than the personal rules she set for herself when it came to her power. What she had seen, what she had felt was barely scraping the surface of what your mind contained. She wasn’t keen on pushing past that barrier for the conclusion of that story. Was it even yours?

“What? Wanda, what is it?”

“I… I don’t” She shook her head, eyes hardening as she stared into Steve’s “Where did you find her?”

He hesitated to answer, his eyebrows furrowing before he looked away from the witches’ prying eyes. She’d been part of this team for years now and they were still reluctant with what they were willing to share. Wanda clenched her jaw, then unclenched it before her stare flashed back to your resting form.

There was a small frown that creased your features. You looked so… harmless. You had shifted, folded into yourself as if you were scratching the surface of what flashed before her. Your arm was folded under your head, knees flush to your chest. A small, beautiful whimper escaped you.

“She’s in distress, Steve.”

“Discomfort, more like. It’s better for all of us that she stays in there for right now. The last thing we want to do is harm anyone but if that requires some temporary-“

“Imprisonment?”

“Containment.” He said firmly, eyes hard. Wanda crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent, letting him continue. She was sure she wouldn’t have been asked if not for her ability to worm her way into minds, to rearrange things. “What did you see?”

“A memory, one that can’t possibly be hers. The timeline doesn’t fit, this is a woman in her mid-twenties and who I saw was barely a teenager on a farmstead. To experience that much tragedy, that much fear and heartache.”

She started to pace, trying to not only work through her own thoughts, but yours as well. It could have been a story, and she was convinced of the fact save for the vividness. There was the feeling of grass tickling her arms and the sharp, undeniable stench of blood.

“Her younger sister died, fell through some rotted wood and fell to her death.” Wanda’s fingers pressed against the edge of her hairline. “She could have lived, but I have my doubts.”

He lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. His expression betrayed his compassion towards you, his stance uncomfortable with the topic. While the revelation was heartbreaking it hardly made you extraordinary. They’d all lost people, none had stirred Wanda as you did.

Wanda’s stare found his after darting to you once more, “Steve, I have the sinking feeling that what I saw was only scratching the surface. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of memories that were pressing in on all sides.”

The sensation of being observed is what pulled you from your fitful sleep. Exhaustion had washed over you like a tidal wave, all at once and leaving your mouth dry like a spoonful of salt. There was a stiffness that rivaled that of the grave you’d crawled out of, and you hoped that it was all a dream.

You were in your bed, in your apartment, after having one too many drinks. It was a horrible stretching nightmare that had plunged you into one sea of darkness from another. But even you weren’t that naïve.

Just as you felt a stranger’s eyes on you now, you had felt the dirt under your nails, the cold sodium-filled takeout as you attempted to chew it. More than anything, you remembered the burning feeling of the Black Widow pressed fully against your back, bending you over Jenn’s kitchen counter.

“I would prefer if you kept the feeling of my wife’s body against yours out of your mind.”

You shot up with a dizzying amount of quickness, heart suddenly in your chest. There was an imbalance to the bed that you were laying on. It was smaller than your own and unfamiliar. The room was stark white. It hurt your eyes and you had to blink the color away. You pressed the heels of your palms close to your eyes.

It felt as if you were locked in a glass shower with an audience and stage lights. The more you looked, the more you realized it was a room, something with no personal effects but a bed and a dimmer switch that you itched to utilize.

A pitcher of water was on an end table. It wasn’t color exactly, but it was more than the rest of your surroundings. Possibly with the worst manners you’d ever exhibited, you drank straight from the pitcher, not remembering the last time you had a drink. Suddenly, you were parched enough to soak your collar.

Despite your audience, you continued until you felt your stomach protest. You used the back of your hand to wipe away the moisture, black dirt was smeared across your skin. It was then, and only then, that you forced yourself to look past the walls of your prison, your enclosure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” The woman said, walking close to the glass. You could see her clearly now, there was an heir of recognition about her, in the same way that there had been with the Black Widow.

“You were in my head.”

“For a while. It’s my job. But your thoughts are also deafening.”

“Sorry,”

This woman was intoxicating. Alluring and beautiful in her presence. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt hugging her form. You weren’t positive what time it was- what day it was- but it could be late into the night. She looked like she was roused from sleep, and a part of you felt guilty for the fact.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Her voice was much more tender than it had been a few moments ago. “You can’t control being brought back from the dead. A lot of trauma comes with that.”

You stood shakily and walked closer to the glass. They’d taken your shoes and the tile under your feet was frigid. You crossed your arms over your chest and shivered into yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that they had undressed you, probably taken your clothes for testing. Instead they left you in a blue set of scrubs.

You averted your stare from your own reflection, not willing or ready to look too hard. You’d much rather look at this stranger, your heart not slowing, your head pounding. Nothing but a simple pane of glass separated you.

“And I was brought back from the dead, wasn’t I? That wasn’t a fucked-up dream where I got hit by a car and then poof God, if there is one, decided that me of all people was worth bringing back.”

She lilted her head, quirked an amusing brow at you. A chill flushed down your spine and seemed to fizzle out at your toes. This woman was gorgeous and terrifying and made you want to squirm. But if this was prison, you had to assert dominance. Right? That’s what Wentworth taught you.

This cell didn’t look or feel like Wentworth, and this Warden had an amused smile tacked to her lips like she had heard your every thought. And she had. At least you assumed that she did. She’d mentioned her wife earlier, and the woman’s body against your own was plaguing you like a runaway freight train.

When she didn’t say anything, you clawed to fill the silence “I want to talk to Bruce.”

“Bruce? Honey, he’s off world.”

“Off… world.” You laughed, softly at first but then almost manically, tears forming in your eyes that you wiped away with your cold fingers. “No, no, that’s really cool. I worked a 9-5 and now I can’t talk to Bruce because he’s in Outer Space.”

“Maybe not outer space, maybe another dimension.”

You leveled her with a humorless glare. She had both of her hands up as if she wanted to comfort you, or the caged animal you had become. You had to give her credit, she seemed just as horrified as you were. She offered up a dim, faltering smile.

There wasn’t a way for you to process this in a gentle manner, there was no one to guide you through it other than Jenn. She’d done this before, lived a whole life that was flipped upside-down and she’d come out on the other side. It was the uncertainty that scared the hell out of you.

“You were in my head earlier,” You stopped suddenly, pressing your fingers against the glass. The woman didn’t flinch. Your frantic breath fogged with each exhalation. “Do you know why I came back?”

She shook her head, “No. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” A weak chuckle, you let your hands drop. “At least we’re on the same page.”

The nurse they allowed to enter through the side of the containment unit took cautious steps towards you that made your chest ache. All your life, people had said how welcoming and kind you were; how they were never afraid to come to you with their worries. It had bothered you before the incident, before your death, but now you missed seeing the stare of those who didn’t harbor any fear.

She was small, a mouse of a thing that had pale blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Her name tag read Julia. Your mind rushed with the paths she’d taken to this place. She must be interning here, much too young to hold a classification herself.

Your finger twitched on your knee, palm sweaty. It’s heat radiated through the thin blue fabric of the pants they’d provided you with. You hated needles, always had. But, you struggled to stay still and the effect that had on poor nurse Julia was making you fidget more.

There was a scent about her. It was under the layers of hairspray, nail polish, and shea butter. It was a sweet metal that made your stomach swirl. Was it her sweat? You’d never smelt anything past walking by the bomb that was the boys locker room, and it certainly had never been this tantalizing before.

Your eyes met hers, crystal blue and uncertain. “You’ll just feel a little pinch”

This is when you pulled your gaze back and instead focused on the cream colored walls. There was no problem with needles, you’d dutifully sit for your flu shots, but something about the sharp edge pushing through a layer of skin and fat before hitting your vein made you nauseous.

“We just need enough to run a few tests.” Julia soothed.

She was a normal nurse in that one, small way. Your mind was itching, blood seeming to congeal. It refused to cooperate and her burning touch was all but dominant against your skin. You both waited for the small tube to fill with black liquid.

Finally, you felt her press the gauze against the crook of your arm and withdraw the needle. Another small pinch and then a massive relief. Her smell hung around you and filled the room. There was an undeniable urge to sink your teeth into her. To taste her.

You’d stopped the elevator just hours before to assess your penchant for brain consumption, but this wasn’t that. This was an intoxicating pull. This was animalistic, the same rush of emotion that had flooded you without prompting during your earlier conversation.

Julia squeezed your shoulder calmly, not entirely over her own reservations, but on the penance that she was a nurse and this was her job. You kept yourself rooted to the bed, fingers digging into the wood. She left the room and you could hear the compressed lock reseal you inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

That sweet odor lingered, and your reaction to it scared you more than anything. The wood beneath your fingertips splintered, and suddenly that anger, that fear, rolled away to shock. That wasn’t… normal. None of this was normal, but you weren’t exactly picked first in sports either.

You were a middle kid, a I guess I wouldn’t mind having you on my team kid. Suddenly your fingers were cutting through wood like it was butter. You let out an indignant squeak and shifted the blanket until the slashes were covered.

“Is everything alright?”

Wanda, you had learned that her name was Wanda, occupied her usual spot in front of the window. A slick sweat covered your forehead. She was holding a small tray that had a steaming bowl of soup and a delicious hunk of French bread.

“I figured you were hungry,” She lifted her chin towards the panel next to your door. “May I?”

“I’m at your mercy.”

And you were, truly. You hadn’t seen anyone but her since you’d woken up. There were shadows of others, people that made the pit in the center of your stomach grow three sizes. You knew exactly what they were doing, you watched enough true crime with Jennifer to know.

Here was this beautiful and powerful woman offering you food and words of comfort, and you allowed yourself to fall for all of it. Listlessly. Because what did you have to lose? You’d already died, and the thought of putting your family through the heartache of resurrection and then possibly enough committal to the ground was too much.

So, let her Stockholm syndrome you. The food smelled divine.

Wanda didn’t hold the same fear that Julia had. In fact, once the compression of air signified that it was okay for her to enter, she did so without hesitation. She set the food down on the equally dull side table and lowered herself onto the corner of the bed, making herself at home.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt that had the outline of SHIELD on its sleeve. You frowned, for a company that does everything in its power to keep itself hidden, they sure loved that stupid bird so much.

“Go on, sweetie. You can eat.”

Wanda had a command about her that made you fold and listen despite any reservations. You took up a spot on the far end of the bed and shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth. An explosion of heady flavors coated your tongue, coaxing a low moan from your lips.

Blush rushed to your cheeks at the spark in the set of stormy eyes that watched you like a hawk. You rushed to break the tension. “So, what’s the plan here? Run a bunch of tests and keep me locked up?”

“Somewhat.” She paused, carefully thinking of her next words. “Y/n, I have the ability to get inside the psyche. Not only can I read every thought, every action, but I can control them too. It’s not something I like to do, nor something I want to. Not without permission.”

You frowned again. You certainly hadn’t given her permission to enter your mind before, and she tensed at the realization. But, you took another bite of soup and swallowed down the spiced broth. What’s done was done. You didn’t expect her to ask, much less admit to her wrongdoing.

“I prefer to ask. Can you tell me what you do for work?”

“Paralegal, the bar seemed like too much stress. But I’m good at my job. I was good at my job before a car turned me into sidewalk art.”

“Right, and your family, what about them?”

There was no desire to think of them and their perfect lives that you’d shattered with your death. Your mother used to sit in the tepid air on the porch swing, downing a glass of wine before she turned to you with tears in her eyes. She’d urge you to be careful working in the city. She’d plead for you to come home. More than anything, she’d utter the phrase a mother should never outlive her daughter.

“My mother is a seventh grade biology teacher and my father runs a painting business that’s been operating my whole life. They’re not very exciting people. They must be worried sick about me.”

Wanda nodded, “Any siblings?”

“Not anymore.”

She stilled at your words and didn’t pry. You were well aware of the fact that she could push through your deflections and learn the information that she wanted to know. But, you respected that she didn’t. Instead, she stared at you, and you stared right back, suddenly not hungry.

Wanda was someone that you felt the need to open-up to. Unlike the brief encounter you had had with her wife. Not that you let that word stick with you, not in the same way that her touch did. Again, you had to push the thoughts to the back of your mind, even if Wanda wasn’t prying.

Instead, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers through your body. You suppressed a whimper at the sudden contact.

“I had a brother named Pietro. He was fast, unnaturally so. Neither of us ever wanted to be heroes, we didn’t think about the future like that. So, when the Avengers, these so-called saviors of the world, recruited us, we knew about the dangers. But it still shocked me when he died. He was my brother. He wasn’t supposed to be fragile like that.”

You stared at her with an amount of tenderness in your eyes that she wasn’t used to from the others. They cared, sure, but in the way that a co-worker would care enough to purchase cut flowers and a ‘sorry for your loss’ card. You were different.

“They’re our protectors.” You swallowed hard, mouth dry “when something drastic happens, it doesn’t seem real.”

“It still doesn’t.”

There was a lapse of silence that pushed memories in your direction. The burning cold weather on the day your own brother had died. You remember the scream that died in your throat and the way you’d knelt in the cracked snow until you couldn’t’ feel your legs or your fingers. It took an EMT with a heated blanket and a horror story about hypothermia to pull you to your feet.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

She let out a questioning hum, pulling her feet from the floor and making herself more comfortable on the less-than-comfortable bed. “Your brother?”

“My older brother. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he never complained. He was a hockey player and a damn good one too. He’d use the lake behind our house in Jersey to practice and one winter the ice broke underneath him. He drowned, and I was too weak to save him.”

Wanda let out a shuddered breath. You couldn’t read her facial expression. It was a mix of confusion, or sadness, but not pity and that was something you appreciated. You’d had enough pity, just as your family had enough grief without you adding to it.

She opened her mouth to reply, but both of you were startled when three quick knocks shattered the silence. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, stood on the other side. She showed no interest in breeching the containment unit. Instead, she leveled her wife with a dark stare and held up a folded piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” Wanda whispered, giving your leg a settling squeeze.

She left the plate and exited the holding cell. Her words were muffled, but those unripe green eyes that Natasha possessed kept flicking to you nervously. She too, didn’t’ show pity. It was interest and if you were being honest, you thought you saw the smallest spark of fear.

Wanda took the paper from her wife, squinted at something you couldn’t’ see. You felt like you were at a parent teacher conference, just out of bounds of hearing but you could see their body language; the way that Natasha itched to move closer to Wanda, the fingers that the taller woman pressed to her lips, thumb creasing the paper.

Finally, Wanda turned back towards the glass. Natasha met your stare without issue, hitting the intercom on the other side of the cell. It was her who spoke, her raspy voice falling from the speaker.

“In the spirit of transparency, we want to be honest with you about your blood results.”

You stood from the bed, moving to one side of the barrier. They were intimidating like that, standing shoulder to shoulder with a natural beauty. It made you want to shrink. If not for the paper in their hands you would have curled into yourself at the sight.

“Don’t tell me I’m dying.”

“No, honey.” Wanda shook her head, “Quite the opposite, you’re getting stronger.”

“I don’t understand.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow and pressed the paper against the glass so you could read it. None of it made sense, it was lines of DNA that looked like musical notes. You shook your head, giving her a confused look.

Natasha scoffed, peeling the paper from the surface of glass. Wanda bit her thumbnail nervously. “According to these…You’re Asgardian, Kitten.”

[Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Wanda Maximoff #scarlet witch #black widow #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Wanda Maximoff x you #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Wandanat x you #Wandanat x y/n #Marvel

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

Text

Soft-dom!Azriel x reader: Dreamy[*]

A/N: this really is a “short but sweet” length fic (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: soft-Dom!Azriel, oral (f! receiving), smut

Word Count: 1,778

A hand spans your hip, keeping you gently pinned to the wall, something hard and stiff poking your middle.

Obscene sounds squish between your mouths as his tongue flicks over your lips, stroking against your own.

A whimper melts on your tongue, eagerly swallowed down as he angles your head, free hand lightly gripping your jaw. Whine when his hips roll against your own, gripping onto his shirt, fingers crumpling the fabric. “Azriel…” you pant when he pulls away, a thin strand of saliva connecting you.

His cock twitches at the sight: feeling the heat from your cheeks, the plump glistening skin of your lips, the dilated pupils that are begging him to take you to bed. And who’s he to resist?

Azriel smiles gently, “on your back tonight.”

Heat bubbles in your middle, watching as he nods toward his bed, already beginning to strip off his clothes. Smooth, tan skin reveals itself, littered with small flecks of scar tissue, speckled with ragged marks. Tongue flicks over your lips, following the V of his hips lower—mouth watering at the prominence of his arousal.

He clicks his tongue in chastisement and you dip your head, hastily murmuring out an apology. A small smile softens his mouth, your heart jumping as you fumble with your dress, then padding over to the bed. Crawl onto it carefully, settling in the middle so there’s room for his wings to drape—should he feel that way inclined.

“That’s good,” he murmurs, prowling up the mattress, settling between your spread thighs. Cups your cheek, your own hands putting themselves over him: one lightly around his wrist, the other gliding over his shoulder. Moan sweetly when your lips connect, how they slant over your own, loving and tender.

“Open,” he mumbles between kisses, tongue dipping deeper into your mouth, stroking against the roof. Moans work their way from your throat, hand sliding to lock at the nape of his neck, fingers grazing the silky strands of hair. Teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a whimper from you. His own hand settles on your inner thigh, pushing encouragingly. Legs part wider, and he slots in comfortably.

Heat sizzles in your lower tummy as you feel him rest over your heat, hips grinding softly to make sure the entrance is smooth. Arms tighten around him, pulling him deeper to your mouth, spine arching as he palms your breast. Thumb flicks across your nipple; you moan, tugging on his lower lip. You don’t want any teasing tonight. Just him.

Head spins a little as he kisses down your throat, nosing lightly, inhaling your scent. The undoubted arousal that’s also clouding his mind. Tongue licks over your skin, nipping a spot below your jaw, teeth grazing pleasurably. Back curves, nipples dragging over his chest as heat builds delicately.

“You’re a bit out of it today, aren’t you?” He whispers, pulling away to gaze down at you, hair loose upon his pillows. Blink up at him dozily, coming back to reality. Teeth push into your lip, eyes dipping to the side. “Sorry, Az,” you mumble, “I think I’m a little tired.”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, stars gleaming in his hazel eyes. “It’s adorable,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want to go to bed?” He asks, still smiling. Shake your head, definitely not wanting it to end. “Do you?” You murmur, fingers playing anxiously with the inky strands at the nape of his neck. Kisses your forehead again, “no.”

A smile pulls at your lips as you gaze up at him contentedly. “Good,” you mumble, legs wrapping around his hips. He chuckles again, the sound settling in the pit of your belly, a calloused palm stroking over your thigh, pulling you higher. His head lowers to your chest, kissing between your breasts, your own fingers threading in his hair as he latches over your right nipple.

“I’m sorry if I’m a little…subdued,” you admit quietly, spine arching as he circles the peak, thumbing across your left one. Teeth gently clasp around you, tugging lightly, causing your legs to wrap around him tighter, slippery wetness coalescing swiftly. “That’s okay,” he reassures attentively, pulling away in favour of attending your left nipple. “Just do your best,” he murmurs, delivering a light lap. “And tell me if you get too tired, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, eyes half lidded from pleasure.

“Okay…?” He goads, feeling his lips part in a smile. A helpless laugh bubbles from your chest, raising your head from his pillows slightly to meet his gaze. “Okay, Azzie.” That lovely, rich laugh resonates through his chest, warming your blood as hazel sparks with quiet joy.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, returning to your chest, slowly making his way down your stomach until he’s between your thighs. Begins slowly sucking marks into the skin, drawing whimpers from your lungs.

“Az,” you moan, his lips grazing the apex of your thighs. “Please…”

Mouth quirks in a smirk, “please what?” Roll your eyes at him, hand settling over your stomach as your head falls back into the pillows with exasperation. “Come on…” you groan, unable to fully disguise the laughter in your voice. His mouth parts in a grin, kissing down on your clit. Toes curl, a short inhale sucking between your lips. “Just a little,” he promises, lowering comfortably between your thighs.

Teeth push into your lip, his hot mouth latching over your heat, tongue licking across you, prodding at your entrance. Just a little, he’d said. Just a little; then he’ll be inside of you. Breaths deepen, hips raising for his access. Lips seal over the apex of your thighs, lapping and flicking as he enjoys himself.

You cup your breasts, shadows wrapping over your thighs, both his hands and the darkness rubbing in soothing motions, allowing you time to soften into his bed. Fingers pinch your nipples, playing with them experimentally while he creates a mess between your legs. Shadows join the fun, flicking the peaks of your breasts, gliding like silk across your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

He takes his time savouring your wet heat, tongue licking up the arousal, pressing his face deeper, eager to have as much of you as he can. Tongue pulls away from your entrance, suckling to your clit briefly before kissing, finally pulling away entirely.

Heat bubbles in your lower belly as he lines himself up, cock slick from being rubbed over you. Hands link over his shoulders, desperately dragging his mouth to your own. Needing to taste yourself on his lips, feel them ply you apart so he can delve deeper. His tip presses to your entrance and you buck, raising a little, urging him to slide home.

Teeth clasp your lower lip, tugging lightly as he pushes in further, the head of his cock nestling inside. Whimper into his mouth, fingers threading in his hair, nails scraping lightly as you silently beg, pleading for him to push his hips forward.

Azriel’s mouth opens over your own, finally relenting as he slides in to the hilt. Until his hips are pressing tight to the backs of your thighs, ankles crossed at his back. Lips part in a moan that he swallows hungrily, greedily devouring every sound you give. Every short whine, every sharp breath, all of it. Watches as your skin flushes with pleasure, hands gliding further down his back, taking in as much of him as he wants of you.

Finger graze the base of his wings, making his hips buck lightly, pushing you into his bed. Moans spill from the both of you, shadows soothing the heat that’s practically rippling beneath your skin from need. “Azriel,” you plead, desperate to feel him move, to rub against the spots he’s had memorised since the first time you coupled.

He nods compliantly, hand tangling lightly over your hair, sliding between your head and pillows to cup you. So he can watch as he begins moving.

Hips drag back, just a little as to not utterly overwhelm you. Neither of you are in the mood for that sort of play. Instead wishing to simply indulge in one another. Curse beneath your breath as he presses in again, certain you’d be able to feel him should you lay your palm over your abdomen.

Azriel groans with pleasure, moving smoothly in and out: slow but steady. Easing the both of you into the rhythm before he picks up the pace. Moans flow more frequently, exchanging noises on pleasure in a mutual give and take. Hips buck up against him, urging him deeper; you want to feel more of him.

“Az…” you pant, “please. I just want you tonight.” Bumps his nose against your own, increasing the rhythm to something better, something more suitable for the both of you. “Want it straight?” He murmurs, grinding into you, shadows skating across your skin, scraping over peaked nipples, sensitive with stimulation. You nod needfully. “No teasing tonight?” Shake your head, pleading with your eyes, fingers lacing with his at your jaw. Pull his hand away lightly, pressing kisses to his palm, affectionately adoring the scars. Vulnerability stretches between you, suddenly submerged deeper into intimacy.

“Please,” you request, moaning as his darkness makes its way between your thighs, sealing over their apex. A small smile softens his mouth, edges curving upward before nodding. “Okay,” he mumbles, “since you’ve been good.”

Relief has the coil tightening, pleasure frothing in the pit of your belly, tightening as he drives you closer to that edge. Touching the spots within you that he knows make you sob. Vision blurs, heartbeat spiking as that familiar beat drums into your bones, picking up tempo.

Lips part on a quiet, breathless moan, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure breaks, washing across your skin with delicious reprieve. His name pants from your lips, your own like a prayer on his. Hot spurts of cum spill into you, filling you to completion, finally melting across the mattress. Content to seep into his skin, splash as you liquefy with one another.

Wings shudder as pleasure rolls through his muscles, stuttered breath panting from his lips as he grinds into your heat, easing through those last waves of his high before settling at your side. An arm and a wing lay across your stomach, the latter fully concealing your lower body, keeping you contained within his warmth.

It doesn’t take long for either of you to gravitate toward one another, slotting perfectly as sleep weighs down.

He pulls you closer, shifting to his side, your back flush to his chest. Skin pressed to skin.

Content and silent.

Peace and quiet.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #soft-Dom!azriel #Azriel smut #Shadowsinger #Shadowsinger smut #Azriel x reader smut #Dreamy

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georgiapeach30513 · 15 days

Text

Your Mark on Me, Part 14

Summary: Steve should have paid attention

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, unprotected sex, PIV sex, hard sex, mirrors, creampie, threats, I'm sorry for the pain I have caused, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Steve gives you a warm smile, watching you as you bashfully eat your food. His eyes follow every movement your hand makes before you drop your fork and try to give him an angry look, “Doesn’t look right on you, Dovey.”

“Stop watching me. You eat,” it’s unnerving how he watches you. Like he needs to memorize everything about your movements. Every moan that whispers off your lips as you eat, every happy dance you do, and even the way your eyebrows reflect how your feeling with each bite. He is obsessed with your very being.

“I already have,” he lowers his eyes, motioning towards your fork before you slowly put another bite in your mouth. Dragging out the utensil at a snail speed. Sucking on the metal hard before it pops out of your mouth, “It would be better for you and that soaking wet cunt between your legs if you didn’t do that. That’s your only warning.”

Oh, you love a warning and what happens when you don’t listen, “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease. Hoping that it amps him up even more.

“Ha,” his voice bellows up into the cabin and you drop your fork. Crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at him. You weren’t the same girl he met a year ago. You were a woman that could fully take and survive Steve Rogers. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little bratty slut. You really want to see exactly how I can punish you for your behavior?”

“I’ve been spanked before,” you remind him with an edge of defiance. Shimmying your shoulders a bit as you start to smirk at him. You have been able to take everything he’s shoved your way. “I wear my badge of Steve’s Dove proudly. Been marked and forbidden for anyone to touch. Would you have claimed me if I couldn’t put up with your menacing ways?”

“I’m a menace now, am I? Tell me, Dovey, who am I a menace for?”

“You’re a menace Steve Rogers, but not to me. All I see is a fool completely in love with me. And my pussy,” you emphasize ‘my’ before you launch out of your seat, and start to run through the cabin. “So in love with me that you will chase your girlfriend around this cabin laughing.”

Steve would never say the words, but he won’t stop you from feeling his emotions. You did make him a fool for you. He would never have been caught chasing you around with the brightest smile on his face. He didn’t even want to catch up to you just yet. He hadn’t felt this way in years. Like everything was just right in the world. In his world. And all he wants is to laugh and have fun with you.

“Oh, Stevie boy,” you smile, spinning around to look at him before you pull apart his button up. Giving your shoulders a shake so he can see your tits bouncing around, and he stops just to gaze upon you. “Not tempted?”

He shakes his head no, but he can’t ignore the shuffle he does with his pants. He is such a horn dog! “What about now?” Cocking up one of your eyebrows you cup your breasts. Keeping your eyes on his, as you start to pinch and tweak your nipples, “Now?”

“Not quite,” liar. You start to undo every button slowly before letting it fall into the floor, and he hisses through his teeth. His eyes drape over every inch of your skin. His gray sweatpants start to tent, and he still wants you to believe he’s not turned on.

“Really? You want to keep chasing me through the house?”

“I’d rather see you try and crack me. That’s what you’re poorly attempting to do, hmm?” He can try to deny it, but even the way Steve speaks is different. Gone was the harsh language. He still had a filthy mouth when he was inside of you, but now he is creating a different Steve. One just for you.

He glances hungrily over your naked body before walking over to the couch. Sitting down smoothly, and even acknowledges his aching cock by rubbing over his swollen pants. Smirking at you while you want to gawk. “You’re craving me, huh, Dovey? You want that sloppy cunt to be hugging this?” Those meaty fingers grip over his covered girth, and you let out a sound that is more animalistic than human.

“Make me lose control. Make me want to show you my cock that is yours for the taking. What is my little cock slut going to do?” You take a step towards him. Trying to be sexy as you saunter closer, but he holds up a finger, “Eh eh eh. Earn your seat on this throne.”

“How?” There’s only a flicker of a moment of Steve going soft. But that twinkle of an eye is gone and replaced with an evil sneer. “Captain?”

“Use your imagination. What do you think I want more of in the world,” how are you supposed to think when your pussy is throbbing. A low hum sounds through your brain and pulses through your entire body. There is only one thing on your mind, and that is you want him to fuck you. You don’t want anything sweet. You want to be destroyed. Since he’s going to be out all day. You wanted to feel him when he left.

Taking a deep breath, you softly close your eyes. Trying to recall a moment that you were the most vulnerable to Steve? When did he feel his own need to destroy you? To own you?

Like a movie playing in your mind, you open your eyes with a grin. If you were going to be destroyed, so was he. You take a deep breath and pretend the trauma that night didn’t happen. Thinking back to when that night was sexy. To the moments of Steve struggling to look at you or your reflection. He couldn’t even figure out what the best view for him was.

Nakedly walking over to the wall, you look at him through that mirror. Biting on your lip as you lean forward. Spreading your legs and sticking out your ass, so he gets a glimpse of your weeping cunt. Feeling more empowered as he adjusts himself. His chest rumbles out a low growl, and you grab both sides of the mirror.

Leaning over it low and slow as you lay it on the floor, and you look at him over your shoulder before straddling the mirror. Shimmying your hips from side to side, and his eyes move to the reflection to stare at your spread pussy. “Do you remember, Captain? You made me watch you fuck me with your gun? Had me coming all over it while I stared at my body taking every bit of what you were giving me?”

“Dove,” he warns as you start to kneel down. Getting down on all fours before you lean forward, and his Adam’s apple bobs with just how uncomfortably hard he is. His cock out of his pants, and he fists it slowly. Beads of precum leak onto the crown of his cock and you whimper. You can already feel him pushing into you.

You are ready to drool with the way he strokes his cock. Knuckles so tense trying to replicate the feeling of your tight walls. Wagging your ass before your hand goes in between your legs, and you gently run your hand through your velvety folds. Your moans match Steve’s, and you dip even lower, using your fingers to spread yourself out, and Steve’s grip gets even tighter.

“I know what would feel better, Captain,” you coo, moving your fingers to push into your warmth. Mewling as you watch him fight the pleasure that is right here. The stairway to heaven is steps away from him, and he was denying himself the greatest high he could ever imagine. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“And what’s that?” His eyes are black pools of lust. Mouth hanging open as he watches you fuck yourself. Pulling out your fingers you spread them apart, and he gulps as strings of your arousal stick to the appendages, creating a beautiful webbing of your honey. “You’re soaked.”

“Soaked and ready to be fucked. Filled up with your cum. And I get to watch all of it. Watch how my body morphs to accommodate that big fat cock of yours. Have you ever had a pussy as tight as mine?” He shakes his head no, and you adjust yourself to have your front flat on the mirror. Face on the cold glass as you look back at him. Wiggling your ass and watch him sweat.

“It’s all yours, Captain. Whatever you want. And you know you want it. Want to fuck me so deep and hard that I feel you in my throat. Feel you for the rest of the day, and feel empty because you're not inside of me. Like what you see?”

He stands up, and lets his sweatpants drop down to the floor. His cock is angry and red as he walks over to you. Sinking to his knees, but still he stares at your needy cunt. Inspecting your hole before he spits down on your puckered hole. His warm saliva drifts down your seam before it, and possibly your slick, puddles on the mirror below you. Thick, wet, and sticky. Just the way Steve loved it.

You whine. Pushing your ass into him. Desperate and needing his touch like you need the air to survive. Rocking your body into him with so much desire that you could almost come undone like this. “Please, fuck me. Own me. Destroy me. Kill any desire for another man’s touch.”

“There will be no other man,” he grunts, railing his veiny cock into you so hard, and so deep you see stars. Nails scratching on the carpet as he impales you. Giving you no time to adjust, just raw and dirty fucking, and you go outside of your mind. The pleasured pain surges all the way to the tips of your hair.

Unadulterated euphoria that you have never felt before. This is fucking. A careless need to get off like the animals you were underneath all that humanity. Pulling out the most salacious sounds out of your mouth, and you’re a mess. He is implanting himself into the blood that courses through your veins with every hard thrust into you. Exploring parts of your body that you are sure he has never discovered.

His fingers dig into your hips with such force, but all you feel is fulfilled. He could use you. He could have you. Every last bit of you, and you would still beg for more. Searing himself into your body more than the tattoo could ever do. Choking out your sounds of ecstasy, and he goes harder. Deeper.

His eyes go between where the two of you connect and the reflection. Watching himself burrow into your body like some predator. Leaving behind a trail where his cock is rooted in your body. The vulgarity of seeing your body take him fully like that makes his balls tighten up against his body, and he spanks your ass to help him focus on going harder. Faster.

Crying out into the cabin because your belly tenses up. Heat centers into your core as your juices start spewing out onto the mirror. Filled up with Steve so much that there’s no room for anything else. Nothing but wet skin on wet skin. “You're perfect, Dovey. Perfect for me. My greedy little slut takes me like no other woman. Every inch of my cock is inside you, and every bit of my soul is owned by you.”

You clench your eyes shut as the pleasure becomes too much. Your body goes limp and pliant for him as he spears into you so hard you lose all control. His hands are the only thing keeping you upright. “You’re mine.”

“Mine.”

“And I’m yours,” one more hard and particularly deep thrusts hits you so deep that you travel to another plane of existence. A plane where Steve’s body is bare of all his markings and scars. A place where he is whole again. Your body is able to purify him. Cleansing him of all the turmoil that made him who he was. And you get the innocent man that you deserve.

The love you’ve craved to hear from him, you see it in these moments. He was different with you and for you. Nothing has ever been more clear in this plane than the fact that Steve was irrevocably in love with your bratty ass. It was going to be a hard life, but life would never be worth living without him in your life.

His hands go rigid on your hips as he blows his load deep into your belly. His hold softens as he lowers your body flat to the mirror. Letting his softening cock fall out of you, and you whine at the loss, “Shh,” he starts to pick you up, but you lift your ass up into the air. Getting back on your knees.

His eyes drift to your gaping hole, and he watches his cream dribble out of your body before drops land on the mirror, mixing with your juices below our body, “You’ve ruined me, Dove.”

“Good. We’re equal now.”

“We are,” he agrees, continuing to watch himself leave your body drop by drop. A masterpiece if he had ever seen one. “And I love it.”

“You asshole,” you snort. You didn’t even care to try and get him to say those three words anymore. You were content with him giving parts of himself that he had never given anyone else.

“I was going to say you were my best friend, though. Does that help?” It does. Steve didn’t trust easily, didn’t throw around words like best friend lightly. He meant it. And that means more to you than eight letters.

“It does. Now put me to bed, best friend.”

You are equals.

Steve walks into the club a little taller. Shoulders back as he struts in front of his people. Giving a few nods to them before he makes his way into his office. He has no intention of spending an entire day here. He left you satiated and sleepy, and he would love to get back to you.

He wants to spend less time here, and has even continued to think about what Bucky said. He is getting older, and things were getting more dangerous with Rumlow, and whatever Peggy was cooking up. Her time would come soon enough. You don’t double cross Steve Rogers and get away with it.

He is beginning to think about a future that doesn't include this business. Ways to spend the large quantities of money he had made with illegal bullshit. And none of them were without you. Houses in different locations, preferably at the beach so he can watch you walk around in next to nothing all the time. Maybe catch a glimpse of you dripping of ocean water and laying in the sun.

That is what life is about and seeing Bucky content with his choices had opened up Steve’s eyes a bit more. He’d give this one more year. The longer in the game you had the riskier things became. The more power you owned the more people wanted to steal it away from you. And now they had the perfect tool to hold over Steve’s head for ransom. You.

It became too clear to him that you were his everything. This life didn’t matter. The money didn’ mean a damn thing if he didn’t have you to spend it on. And a family. It looked good on Bucky. He’d never seen Bucky happier, and the desire he had to not just fully claim you and connect you to him forever with a legacy that was both of you hit him directly in the heart he thought had been nothing but ashes. And yet he is feeling things he thought were a fairytale.

You awoke something in him he thought he had lost years ago. Humanity. Passion. Fear. Need. A reason to not just survive but to live. All in this perfect human that he didn’t want to miss a single second with. And there is nothing that he wouldn’t do to keep you alive. Alive and living your life to its fullest potential. He needs that for you more than he needs it for him. His life and soul was burned years ago, but you were the beauty in his dark world.

A world that didn’t deserve your light, or the power you could wield with that light. You are remarkable. And you are his.

His head tilts towards his door as Sam walks in. His brows furrowed and they sit low on his face, “I need you to sit down,” Steve starts to respond, arguing about being told what to do, but in Sam’s calming and deep timbre, he tells him again, “Sit down. You need to see this, it’s about Dove.”

Without hesitation he moves to his chair that Sam points to, and he’s met with a computer screen of his home. He looks up at Sam curiously before the other man pushes play for Steve. The video is a bit distorted, but it was taken this morning. Watching your beautiful body walk into frame, and the teasing show you put on for Steve.

A part of Steve wants to smile at how amazing it is to relive this moment until he realizes this isn’t the location of his security cameras, “What. The fuck. Is this?” His fist pounds on the desk, viewing one of the most intimate moments he has ever had with you. How you made yourself completely vulnerable to him. Trying to erase the night that he branded you as his own in the most humiliating way. You retrieved that moment back this morning, and someone saw it.

“Skip to the end,” Sam answers flatly.

Steve reaches towards his keyboard, and skips towards the end where there’s a camera change. This one in your bedroom as he carries you into the bed. Laying you down and kisses all over your worn body. A moment so pure and perfect and it was stolen from him. Kissing over your heated skin until you completely fall asleep, and it pans over to the floor, and some stupid envelope. Staying on something so unimportant that it highlights the words that he utters, and Steve stands up just as the screen goes black.

A mechanical voice vibrates deep into Steve’s core and he seethes. This moment wasn’t for anyone. Not even for you and it was stolen out from under him. A threat. A fucking threat that makes him see red, and ready to light the world on fire, “You’ve been warned.”

With an angry growl, Steve grabs his computer off the desk and hurls it into the floor. Turning to stomp out of his office and back where he came from. “Steve?”

“How the fuck did you get this?”

“It was emailed to us.”

”You saw and heard fucking nothing. I will destroy whatever asshole did this. And I will start with Lark! But I need to know what my goddamn warning was. FUCK! That night Lark was there, did anybody come into the house?”

Sam stares at him a moment. He knows he should have told Steve sooner, and this wasn’t going to go well. “The footage was tampered with,” Steve bellows out a scream that is feral. His face becomes beet red and all he wants is you. “There’s about three minutes missing from the feed.”

“Shut it down.”

“Steve?”

“No one goes in or out of here until I get to Dove. All phones confiscated. I want Natasha to get eyes on Rumlow immediately. You didn’t see or hear anything!” Emphasizing the last word before storming off.

No road laws are followed as he races to get back to the cabin. His phone propped up with a clear view of you dancing around in your little shorts. He should be coming home to you with a smile, and instead it's anger and anxiety. To see you move about with so much joy pains him to know someone had put you at risk. You’re not going to understand. You couldn’t. Not with what was captured, and he wouldn’t explain it.

Slamming his car into park he stomps up the steps, and you run to greet him, “Hey, Captain,” you give him the brightest smile. Happy because you had already missed him. This morning was perfect, but then you see his face, and you frown. “Steve?”

He doesn’t say a word as his long strides carry him to the bedroom with a few steps. Walking right over to the envelope before he picks it up to rip open. Teeth clenching harder with every line before he crumples it and the contents up, and stares out into space. So many things run through his mind, and a part of him dies. The part he was finally getting back completely burns up, and the ashes start to blow away with the wind.

“Steve, what’s going on?” The sound of your voice hits deep into his soul. He had made a private vow to never see you hurt. And you sound hurt. And it would only get worse. Already hating himself, but one look at you, and the thought of anything happening to you is worse than death. He would rather feel the pain of torture than this. The thing worse than death is to ever see anything happen to you.

“Steve?”

“We need to pack your bags. We’ve gotta go,” his voice is lifeless as you switch the weight of your feet. Something was wrong. Off. It feels bad. He says your real name, and your lip starts to tremble. “Either you pack you some bags, or I will.”

“Are you packing a bag, too?” He wasn’t. But if it is what it takes for you to not crumble right now, it’s what he would do. You see the tenseness in his body, and want to scream at him. “Steve?”

He gulps, standing up to walk towards you. Cupping your cheek, he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, but it’s like he’s seeing right past you. “If you’re going to kiss me make it mean something,” Steve’s hands move to your ass, and he picks you up. Making you wrap your legs around him as he holds you so tight. Deepening the kiss, and you melt into his skin. Holding onto him like you are going to lose him.

Feeling every bit of the love he has for you through this one kiss alone. A kiss that reminds you that he is a man that acts instead of says. And what he says is often a lie. His words never match his actions. He pulls away and sets you on the ground before walking towards the closet. “It’s not safe for you here. Do you want to help me pack your things or not?”

Sighing you decide its best to help him. Even if he thinks he knows what’s best.

Sitting on the hotel bed you curiously watch Steve on the balcony. He spent more time avoiding your eyesight and smoking a joint than he did with you. Today should have been a good day. It started off magical, and ended in — this. Confused wasn’t even the word you would use. Hurt? Maybe.

It’s like playing a game of tug-o-war and you know you’re about to lose. All this pushing and pulling you and Steve have been doing this past year made you feel like you were winning, but now it’s like he is ripping the rope right out of your grasp. Something was off and you didn’t like it. The feeling just festers inside your gut and you want to lash out at him.

He hadn’t kissed you again. Hadn’t so much as been sweet to you. It was mostly this; his back pointed towards you. He was avoiding something. And that something is you or something to do with you, and you hate it. You try and take deep breaths as you glare at his beautiful broad back. You had three bags of things, he had a small duffle bag. He was not staying as long as you, and he was lying.

“Steve Rogers, you’re a goddamn coward,” he takes a long drag of his roach, and still doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t acknowledge you said anything. “You could at least tell me the truth since I walk around with your fucking mark on my fucking neck,” sure add in some colorful words and make him want to punish you.

“You’re the biggest coward I have ever met, and you still won’t look at me,” you watch, ready to take the punishment as long as he looks at you. “Look. At. Me,” your words are harsh and spit through your teeth. You need him to feel the panic that is settling in your body. Putting out his joint, he slowly turns to look you in the face and his eyes are haunted. “Look at me!”

“I am.”

“No, look at me! See me. See all of me,” you scream, pulling off your clothes. “I need you to fucking see me, and you tell me what the fuck is going on!” he twists his neck again, and a sickening pop runs down his spine. “What the fuck are you going to do about my fucking attitude and using this fucking language, huh? Fuck you, Steve Rogers. Fuck you,” adding emphasis you throw up your middle fingers, and he sprints towards you.

Picking you up and he throws your now naked onto the bed. His thick body goes in between your legs, spreading you out and with one hand he messes around with his jeans. Struggling to get them undone, so you reach up and help him. “You see how wet my fucking pussy is from pissing you the fuck off?”

“You better shut your fucking mouth, Dove,” finally. It is violent and intense, but he said the nickname you have grown to adore. Ripping off his shirt, he spits down to your hole. Steve’s hand grips onto his member before he runs it through your slick. “You’re such a fucking slut,” he grits out, soaking his cock in your wet heat.

“Then you better fucking do something about it,” he growls low. Gripping each side of your cheeks with his thumb and fingers before he slams into you. Taking your breath away and rolling your eyes into the back of your head. You pissed him off. Good. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Steve!”

There’s no care in the way he pistons into you. Fucking you like you were some random whore that he was using to get off. Cheapening whatever this bond is between the two of you. Something is off. “Fuck you,” your voice loses the edge to it. It hurts, and not in a physical way. He’s tugging harder and harder at that rope, attempting to take it away completely.

“Fuck you,” your voice now a whisper as he fucks you harder. Still not meeting your eyes. Clenching his eyes close, and it kills you. “Fuck you. I hate you.”

“Good,” you let out a strangled sob with that one word. Giving up as he rips on that rope harder. You are losing your fight, and he was removing every bit of the rope from your hands, “But I’ll make you this promise, Dove. I promise that you will feel me etched in every part of your skin. That when you fuck another man that you still feel my cock buried deep in your body. So deep you can’t escape it. Every time some man looks at you, you remember the way I made you so weak. You’ll hate the ground that those men walk on because they’ll never be me. You’ll crave my touch and the way that I stretch you out.”

The rope is pulled completely out of your hands, and you lie below him, limp and in so much emotional pain you’re numb. His motions, and his words still don’t stop. They cut so deep that tears pour down your face. “You’ll never escape. And no man will ever make you feel the way that I do. I have left my mark on you so deep that you’re forever changed. You’re not longer that girl that I made my slut.”

“I hate you,” uttered words that mean nothing to him. Hate is just as strong as love, and you despise that you feel for him so deeply during whatever the fuck this is. You want to feel nothing for Steve Rogers, and still you feel everything.

“And you, sweet Dovey, have left your mark on me, too,” he pulls himself out of you, and you let out a strangled no as he spurts his cum on your stomach. The last fragment of the rope gone from your finger tips as he comes on your stomach just like a slut, “Don’t call me. Don’t look for me. Don’t reach out to me.”

“I’m just your whore now?”

“You’re nothing. You mean nothing. There’s money for you in one of your bags, I’ve paid for your troubles. Create a new life and forget this,” still he can’t meet your eyes as he removes that rope, and out of your hand and grasp. There’s no emotion in his words. They’re so monotone, and you hate him. But you want to erase every bit of him instead. Nothing could ever hurt as worse as being made to be a paid for slut to Steve Rogers.

“You’re goddamn liar. Spoken like a true fork tongued lying bastard!”

You let out the fiercest scream you can muster, staring right at him, but he robotically dresses himself, throwing a towel over you, “Clean yourself up,” he whispers before he walks out the door and out of your life.

A coward if you have ever seen one.

And you were a goddamn fool.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @honeylovelyy @rogersbarber

#your mark on me #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers #soft!dark!steve rogers #drug lord au #chris evans #chris evans character

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alanswhores · 4 months

Text

"Good boy~" (sneak peek)

sub alastor X dom reader

warning; sexual content 18+, foreplay

( this is a sneak peek into my next piece of art, not finished yet currently only has 433 words but I'm aiming for at least 900 )

Alastor has always been good at everything: speaking, protecting the hotel, and so much more. I know one of his weaknesses is me. Alastor gets soft when I try to touch or hold him. So, I will see how far I can go until he submits to me. This morning, he was relaxing on the couch in the hotel lobby. "Hey Al, how's the handsome demon doing today?" you say, causing him to be flustered but keeping a solid smile on his face. "Splendid, my dear!~" he replies, smiling wide. You start to think, how would you start this? Where do you take him? Thoughts running through your head till you let loose. "Alastor, baby, can you come with me?" holding your hand out. There again, he becomes soft-spoken. "Absolutely, My doe." You walk him into the bedroom you both share; what a lovely decorated room. There were old radios on the walls, a cozy fireplace, and a beautifully draped bed of red and white colors. This was our space.

You spin around with him, enjoying a moment together. You sit on the bed and ask him to get on his knees. "Show me how much you love me, Alastor." You demand him, and as a result, he runs his hand up your legs and to your thighs. begging you to let him take your pants and panties off, "beg for it." You command in a lustful tone. "Please, darling, please let me touch your bare skin.~" He begs over and over. You guide his hands by doing so, permitting him to pull your bottoms off. His face is red, and he is speechless. "Come on then~," you say as you open your legs for him. He buries his face in your sex, licking and kissing every inch. You lock your fingers in his hair and push him deeper between your legs. You feel his tongue swirl around inside of you, building tightness in your stomach; oh, but no, you're far from done with him. You get up and push him on the bed. You take his clothes off and flip him on his stomach, making him arch his back. "You're so hard for me, huh~," seeing his precum drip onto the sheets. You grab his shaft and start pleasuring him, listening to his moans and whines. You pull his head back by his hair, "Tell me how much you love it~." he starts whining and pleading for you to go faster; you tighten your grip around his member and stroke his even faster, causing more and more precum to slick your hand.

#alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor #hazbin hotel

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lychniis · 1 month

Text

⚘— DUE RESPITE.

i. SYNOPSIS : he demands his affection. it's long overdue, in his opinion. ( jing yuan x reader ) // evenfall event - prompt xi ( ❛ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips.❜ ) + daisy.

ii. WARNING(S) : mild mentions of blood and one fucked up appendix, this is lowkey selfship coded, reader is a doctor and is lowkey tired too, jing yuan is just a wee bit touchy, a tiiiny hint of angst. very small but i swear but it's all fluff and sweet talking.

# masterlist

“Come here.”

He smiles in indulgence, fingers pattering playfully over hardwood. You consider his request, sugar melting over your tongue with the passing moment. You reach out for more candy as the twisting in your gut persists. A wingbeat draws your attention again. Jing Yuan is still staring straight at you.

“Why?” you ask carefully.

“Let me kiss you.” Blunt, to the point, so unlike the lilting riddles he’d spin and confuse you with. You shake your head.

“I smell of blood.” you’d overseen the surgery of one insistent patient, a short lifer whose stomach cramps stemmed from an inflamed appendix. Even after washing yourself down you can’t quite rid the tang iron rimming your fingertips.

Jing Yuan laughs. To him, everything may as well be a joke. Or a threat. Or a simple amusement. You consider it the happy experience of going senile with age ( you had expressed it to him. He’d laughed even harder till the birds in his hair clear out and his shoulders shook and trembled like his being was wracked with earthquakes ).

“Trust me, I’ve smelled far worse.” he assures you, leaning forth to take your hand, his lips pressing up against the palm. “Come.” A tug. You’re a slave to the way his eyes shine. You hate how he has you so easily stringed up and weak for his words ( your heart is racing, it’s a traitorous little thing ripping away at your chest and stealing your breath and warming your cheeks ).

His large hands settle you easily on his lap, drumming staccato over your hips. His lips find your temple next. “Darling mine.” he whispers. “Darling mine.”

“Yes.”

Jing Yuan smiles and shuts his eyes, curling his grip around the hook of your legs. The action in firm, steady, half patient, half wanting. “Look at me.”

You turn your head away.

He presses his face to your hair. “No?” he intones with feigned disappointment. “I cannot see your face?”

“No.” you play along, reaching for more of the rock candy. Jing Yuan stops you, and it’s warm, warm, warm all over. There’s is something tempered in his gaze. It’s a lazy adoration.

“Is there any way I can appease my beloved then?” he muses. “Should I beg on my knees? Wax poetry?”

You groan. “No, no poetry, Jing Yuan.”

“No poetry either? My, you are a tough case, aren’t you?” he’s sweeping you away from the floor, draped on his lap and his chest. Your grasp lays upon his heart. You feel it beat. Your head turns and you face him, lips pursing as you try to stifle back the flustered curl tugging at the corners. “There.” he whispers. A finger taps at your jaw.

He lets you close the gap and steal away gaping kisses.

“I’m weak for you, aren’t i?” you mumble mournfully between them. Jing Yuan softens to it. “An utter fool. An idiot.”

“Maybe. But I’d be a hypocrite for belittling you for it, no?” he’s chasing after your lips again in a rare moment of greed. He’s not a selfish man. Jing Yuan would let himself be rend by a thousand swords or scorched by starfire if it means another lives a life in peace. It’s a simple truth nestled in him, so blatant in its presence yet artfully tucked away beneath paraphernalia and other quirks picked over the centuries.

( Jing Yuan who’d let himself bleed, bleed, bleed. )

Your nose nuzzles at the column of his neck. You will not be thinking of tragedy today. “Just keep holding me.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. He is flesh and blood in your grasp. he is whole. He is him.

The respite is welcomed.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

working through this event like the damn aventurine boss jk jk. anyway i am ill for this man and i want him to hold me thank you.

anyway, this evenfall post was requested by @floraldresvi!! i hope you like it!!!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @dustofthedailylife @meimeimeirin @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @ofoceansandtombsanew

AINE | 2024. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#&&. my writing !!#EVENFALL ; valentines 2024 #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail #silly silly silly lion mans #i love him so god i need to be check lords #he's so kijhgfcvbghj #him and zhongli

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stvharrngton · 10 months

Note

hey! can u do 12 and 49 for the prompts if you're still doing them? with steve of course!! thank u <3

tysm for requesting!! i hope i got the right prompts cause i literally counted the list like 5 times kshfjsks but i hope you enjoy!! <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, shower sex, heavy petting, steve and reader are a little goofy

prompts: "i won't bite. unless you're into that sort of thing." and "and where do you think you're going?" from this list (x)

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Beams of yellow and gold peaked through the curtains as you stirred awake, Steve snoring softly behind you. Your neck lay on his bicep as his face was tucked softly into your shoulder. His other was draped across your stomach, his hand splayed across your skin beneath your shirt.

You stretched your limbs underneath the sheets, a soft groan rumbling in your throat as sleep still racked your body. He shifted behind you, his large hand tightening on your stomach, lips smattering soft kisses along your shoulder and back.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he hummed, voice rough and gravelly, still laced with slumber.

“Morning, handsome,” you replied, eyes still firmly closed shut. You reached behind you to card your fingers through his hair, soft brown tresses silky smooth between your fingers.

You treasured these moments with Steve. Early mornings shared together before either of you had to go to work, lay ins on Sundays when you set no alarms. You loved to just lie in each other’s arms, hands wandering, legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those mornings.

Glancing over at the red numbers on the alarm clock on the nightstand, you sighed. You really needed to get up and get moving, no matter how badly you wanted to stay wrapped up with Steve.

You managed to free yourself from his grip as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, ready to make your way towards the bathroom.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Steve whined, hands outstretching to grab at you.

“For a shower.” you stated, your eyes rows raised just a tad. A playful smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“Without me?”

Steve was a picture as he said it. Sprawled out in the mass of sheets, hair a floppy mess on his head. Pink lips formed in a pretty pout. How you ached to climb back into bed with him but you really had to get ready.

“You’re such a boy, Steve,” you chortled, finally making your way into the en-suite. You turned the shower on, letting the water heat up.

He grunted as he rolled back over onto his stomach, head laying soundly on his crossed arms on the pillow.

“Well, are you coming or not?” you asked, appearing in the doorway once more, hands on your hips in Steve’s signature pose. He responded with a sleepy Hmm? as he rolled back over, eyes fluttering up at you.

“I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” You said with a shrug as his attention was fully on you now. Eyes wide with a grin on his face, carefully watching as you lifted your sleep shirt up and off your body, revealing your tits to the boy still in bed.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m coming, shit—“ Steve stumbled out of bed, doing his best to rid himself of his boxers on his way to the bathroom. “C’mere, you,” Steve cooed, fingers wrapping around your wrist, spinning you into his arms.

His large palms delved beneath your panties, hands squeezing at your ass beneath the material. You braced yourself against his chest, rough ringlets of hair scratching at your palms.

“I am, by the way,” he breathed as his lips came only millimeters away from yours, “into that sort of thing, I mean.”

You huffed out a laugh, your arms slung over his shoulders now, “You’re such a dork,” you whispered as your lips brushed against one another in a kiss.

He pulled you closer, if that was even possible, his fingers still kneading at the doughy flesh of your ass, the kiss getting more heated by the second.

Steve was handsy and you loved it. He loved to always have his hands on you in some way, loved to pinch and squeeze, to caress and grope.

Your panties slowly made their way to the floor as you stepped out of them, leading Steve into the warmth of the shower. His hands never left you, lingering on your waist as he pecked your lips over and over, in quick succession.

You hummed as the warm droplets of water covered both your bodies, Steve’s hands slippery as they wandered up and down your skin. “I do actually have to shower, Steve,” you breathed against his lips.

You felt him smirk into your kiss as he replied, “I know.”

Steve reached behind you for your favourite body wash, with scents of grapefruit and ginger, squirting a generous amount into the palm of his hand. You watched through your wet lashes as Steve lathered the soap between his hands before starting at your shoulders, massaging the scrub into your skin.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Steve dug his fingers and palms into you so delicately, a sweet little sigh leaving your lips. His hands travelled to your chest, fingers tracing over your tits, your pert buds erecting at his featherlight touch. Steve lathered the body wash into your soft skin, large palms groping and cupping your breasts, the boy’s gaze fixated on how soapy and wet your tits looked.

“Such pretty tits, baby,” Steve groaned, as he squeezed them together, letting them bounce free. His fingers found your nipples, finger and thumb squeezing at the sensitive peaks, causing a moan to erupt from you.

“Steve,” you whimpered, hands bracing themselves on his broad shoulders, your thighs clenching beneath you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, hands still firmly on your chest as he leant into you, lips brushing against yours softly. Steve kissed you all pretty, tongue swiping along your bottom lip as he licked into you.

Not bothering to wash the soap from your body, his hands wandered to your thighs, large palms hooking underneath as he urged you to jump. Steve held you to him, your ankles crossed at the small of his back as he pressed you against the glass of the shower.

You exhaled a groan as Steve moved his lips to your neck, sloppy kisses pressed against the skin there. You felt his stiffening cock press between your bodies, electricity rolling throughout you at the feeling of his lips on your skin, his fingers pressing into your doughy thighs.

Steve reached between you, his fingers travelling to your core. They pressed at your entrance, middle and pointer finger teasing your hole, eventually pushing inside. You whimpered as your head rolled back against the glass, Steve’s fingers scissoring and pumping in and out of your pussy.

He hummed against your skin, wet lips teasing as they enveloped your ear lobe, nibbling and sucking. You breathed out a ‘please’, a pathetic whine as your lips formed in a pout, pleading with Steve to give you something more.

“Alright, alright,” Steve chuckled, hushing you softly, “easy tiger.” His fingers wrapped around his cock now, wrist pumping a few times as he pressed the tip against your entrance, pushing into your wet hole ever so slowly.

The whimper that tumbled past your lips was music to Steve’s ears, loving how the stretch of his cock inside your cunt got you to make that noise, every damn time. His lips tugged upwards as he pushed in further, his jaw going slack as he made it halfway

“That’s it, baby, there you go,” Steve cooed, praise oozing off his tongue. His hand returning to your thigh, a gentle squeeze to your flesh, a subtle way of checking on you.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving little crescent marks in their wake as you urged the boy to move. Steve began slowly, torturously so. Thick cock fucking in and out of your heat at a relaxed pace, the protruding veins pulsing against your wet walls.

“Steve, fuck–,” you moaned out, the sound bouncing off the glass along with the water continuing to blast from the shower head. The rivulets dousing your bodies, skin hot and slippery as you melted into one another.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Steve breathed, sopping wet hair flat against his forehead, cock aching within you, “taking my cock so well, s’like you were made for me, huh?”

Steve’s voice was syrupy sweet, full of saccharine with just a hint of a condescending tone. The boy loved how easy it was to get you like this, to get you whimpering and breathless. He knew exactly what buttons to push, exactly what parts of you to touch and kiss and usually, you would curse him for it. Until you were full up of his cock and moaning out his name, that is.

“Just for you, Stevie,” you cried as Steve picked up the pace now, hips snapping up against you.

“Good girl,” Steve moaned, the loud slap of skin on skin heard just above the sound of rushing water, the glass of the shower fully steamed up now. The boy’s cheeks were flushed pink, mouth hanging agape as his moans got louder and sharper. The way Steve was bullying his cock into your hole was sending you closer to the edge, the coil in your lower stomach wound tight.

“Don’t know how much longer I can last, fuck,” Steve groaned, lips searching for yours as they found your jaw instead, “pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet.”

You simply whined in response, crying out for your own climax. Your fingers found their way into Steve’s hair, tresses sopping wet as you tugged at the strands, pulling a pretty little sigh from the boy. You were so close to the end of your tether, your orgasm right around the corner as the tip of Steve’s cock brushed against your sweet spot, over and over again.

Your hand slipped between your bodies, your dainty fingers finding your puffy clit as they circled the throbbing bud harshly. Steve’s eyes followed your fingers, a lustful haze overcoming his gaze as his cock twitched inside you.

“Can you cum f’me, pretty?” he asked, desperation lingering on his voice.

You simply nodded, fingers speeding up as Steve matched your pace with his thrusts. The both of you crying out at the pleasure that overwhelmed you as you neared your summit, white hot sparks shooting through your skin.

“Need you to cum, babygirl, come on,” Steve was yearning for it now, aching and craving the sweetness you were going to give him.

And that’s all you needed. One more circle of your fingers, one more stroke of Steve’s cock and you were coming undone with Steve right behind you. You wailed as Steve grunted, his fingers digging into your skin harshly now, his thrusts becoming hard and messy as your juices coated his length.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he groaned, hot cum filling you up as your chest heaved against his, the rough scratch of his chest hair against your tits making everything ten times more euphoric. Steve lapped up everything you gave him, his thrusts slowing but still present as he longed to fuck his cum back inside your hole for as long as he could.

The sensitivity became too much eventually, toes curling on the tiled floor of the shower as Steve let his cock fall from you. He held you against him softly before setting you down on shaky legs.

He chuckled as you wobbled, holding you up straight at your shoulders, pressing soft kisses all over your face. “I’m definitely gonna be late,” you groaned, grinning as Steve continued his assault with his lips, “and I am definitely blaming you, Harrington.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #k.fic #request #miguelnation #reminder that requests are currently closed also <3

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yoditopascal · 1 month

Note

Hi!! I love your writing. I have a request for a Jason Todd smut involving the Batmobile!!

Thank you so much!!

Ahhhh thank you sm that really means a lot 🤧

And sorry for the late reply I’ve been super sick lately! Anyways I hope you like this!

This contains smut so minors pls DNI

“This is a bad idea” you said breathlessly Jason trailing up the side of your neck leaving wet open mouth kisses in his wake.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked lips grazing your ear as he came up for breath

“No way in hell.”

“That’s what I thought.” He grinned diving back down to your neck biting and sucking as he trailed down to your clavicle and chest.

What started off as a joyride in the Batmobile turned into something so much more when Jason put his hand on your thigh and gave a light squeeze.

It was date night and Jason had just gotten back from patrol. Tossing his helmet to the floor Jay quickly changed his clothes and dragged you out of your cocoon of a bed to spend time with him. By now most places had closed except for the diner around the corner from your apartment. Grabbing a quick bite of breakfast the two of you wandered around downtown for a while not wanting the night to end but also not knowing what else to do.

That’s when Jason got the bright idea to take you to the Bat Cave. He knew Bruce would still be out patrolling and dealing with his own brand of bad guys so the cave would be damn near deserted. Once you guys got there he was pleasantly surprised to find that Bruce had also left the Batmobile behind for the night too. It had taken some talking into but eventually you caved in and agreed to take the car out for a spin with him.

Cruising around Gotham in the Batmobile, as you found out, had been a blast!

Jason would switch between speeding and drifting, every time he accelerated you would grip his thigh or he’d grip yours, the adrenaline working yourselves up, which is how you found yourself parked on top of a hill overlooking the sleepy city as you made out and he worked at getting your clothes off.

Jason lifted up your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns along your skin as he dragged them down to the hem of your pants, playing with the waistband before tugging them down your legs.

Lifting you up by your hips, he drags you down the leather seats until your legs were draped over his shoulders and your clothes core was just below his face, his hot breath fanning over your thighs as he kissed and nipped at them causing a shiver to run up your spine.

“Let me take care of you baby.” He said teeth grabbing at the hem of your underwear dragging them down your legs.

You moaned softly at the first drag of his tongue. Your legs tremble around him as he drags his nose and tongue up and down teasing you.

You clamp a hand over your mouth muffling a particularly loud moan as he presses his mouth against your clit, sucking on it before pulling away and flicking it with his tongue, drawing circles and spelling out his name around it.

Jason pulls away pulling your hand from your mouth as he pushes in a finger.

“I’ll stop right here right now if you try and keep yourself quiet again.”

Watching you through dark lashes, he slowly begins to move his finger in and out of you, curling his finger against your gummy walls until he finds the right spot. You let out a strangled half-sob as he leans back down pressing his mouth against your clit again, sucking and flicking at the hard nub.

Fuuuuuuck,” you rasp out, reaching for his hair. He knew you were getting close, he could tell from the way your walls pulsed around him as he added another finger.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your orgasm building. “Please, right there!” You choked, eyes closing as you threw your head back.

“That’s it baby, just let go for me.”

You stifled a sob as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Jason doesn’t stop as he holds your trembling legs wide open as he works you through it.

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle as he finally stops.

You nod unable to fully answer him just yet. He chuckles at you again.You watch mesmerized as you catch your breath as he pulls his shirt over his head first, then goes to pull his pants down but not off all the way, just enough to free his hard dick from the stuffy confines of his boxers.

“You ready for me?” He asks, stroking himself as he lines himself up in front of you. You nod still not fully able to use your words just yet and both watch as he sinks into you.

“Shit,” he hisses. He gives a few slow calculated thrusts, just to be sure you're well adjusted to him before he picks up the pace.

“Fuck me Jay.” You begged wanting more than anything for him to go faster, harder, anything to feel more of him against you.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He said before kissing you and locking in.

You were moving together now, a hard rhythm of skin against skin filled the car as Jason fucked into you and you tried desperately to match his pace. One hand threaded through his own while the other clutched clumsily to his back, nails desperately digging in, Jason had an iron grip on your hips as he bucked into you, neither one of you wanted to let go of the other.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” He hissed into your ear burying his face against your neck, his pace becoming harsher, you were having a hard time meeting him thrust for thrust now, both too lost in the ecstasy of it all.

“Jay, please!” You scream as your orgasm washes over you once again, nails biting into his shoulders. You curl your arm around his neck and he presses his forehead against yours, the car rocking with the efforts of his movements.

“Fuck!” he grunts, kissing you hard as he comes. He continues to thrust into you roughly, hips twitching as you card your fingers through his hair, holding onto him as he spills into you.

Pulling away Jason looks at you, a crooked smile settling on his lips as he leans down to kiss you one more time.

“Oh my god I can’t believe we did that!” You squeak embarrassedly voice going hoarse from screaming.

“What? It’s not like it’s the first time we did this.” Jason chuckles, going to pull up his pants and handing you your clothes.

“No, I mean here! In the Batmobile!” You cried as you get dressed in a hurry, you could only move so fast though as the bonelessness of being fucked senseless had started to set in.

“What if Batman finds out?” You asked biting your nails. Jason lets out another laugh as he leans down to kiss you one last time before whispering in your ear. “Fuck, Batman.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #dc comics #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #answered asks #yodito speaks

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screebyy · 4 months

Text

Part 2: local empath tries and fails to parse his own feelings apart from the feelings of the dead little freak living inside his brain

Next part is either gonna be either a really big one or split into several little parts idk yet but i would like to finish this at least through the next Scene™️

Prev || Next

ID below cut

Panel 1: Crow is sitting on a branch high up in a dead tree, on a hill above the Harbinger’s Seclude temple in the Dreaming City. Crow is relaxing along the branch, with one leg stretched out and one propped up so he can rest his hand on his knee. He is leaning back against the trunk of the tree as he looks to his right, down at the temple and away from the viewer. He is holding a flaming hunter throwing knife in his hand, flicking it back and forth. Glint is floating next to him. Glint: “Do you want to see him again?” Crow: “I don’t think he wants to see me.” Glint: “That’s not what I asked!”

Panel 2: Crow twirls the knife in his hand, scowling as he looks down at it. The knife is made of solar flame, and leaves trails of fire behind it as he twirls it. Crow looks like he is reluctantly considering Glint’s question.

Panel 3: Crow turns back towards the temple, grabbing the knife and pulling his knees into his chest. Crow: “I just want him to be alright.”

Panel 4: Crow hugs his knees into his chest. His face is not visible. Crow: “And… it seems like knowing me doesn’t help with that.”

Panel 5: Crow has his arms crossed over his knees, and is resting his face on his forearm. With his other hand, he continues to fidget with the solar knife, twirling it between his fingers. He is looking at the knife, but his expression is distant. Crow: “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Panel 6: In a memory, Uldren and Jolyon are in bed, late at night. Jolyon seems to be sleeping peacefully, and is embracing Uldren from behind with his face pressed against the back of Uldren’s head. One arm is draped over Uldren’s waist, while the other is resting under Uldren’s cheek, with his hand palm-up on the mattress in front of Uldren’s face.Uldren is awake. He is clutching the blanket around his waist with one hand. His other hand is clutching desperately at Jolyon’s hand on the mattress in front of him, with his fingers threaded between Jolyon’s at an awkward, stiff angle. He is staring at their clasped hands, looking distraught and almost angry. He is crying. Crow (from present day): “I always knew I was bad for him. Even before the garden, when things were… Mostly good. I knew I’d never be what he wanted. What he deserved…”

Panel 7: In present day, Crow continues to twirl the knife, but has turned his face further into the crook of his elbow, staring vacantly into the distance. Crow: “I was just too selfish to let him go.” Panel 8: Close up of Glint staring down at Crow passively. Glint: “It sounds like that’s how Uldren felt. What about you?”

Panel 8: Close up of Crow’s hand holding the knife. He has stopped it mid-spin, catching it between his fingers. Crow: “...”

Panel 9: Close up of Crow’s hand. He dissolves the knife into a fizzling burst of flame as he closes his hand into a fist. Crow: “Right.”

Panel 10: Wide shot from behind Crow. Crow turns his body fully towards the temple, still resting his left hand on his knee. Glint is floating in front of him, looking at his face. Crow: “I don’t want to make the same mistake. So… if he asks, I’ll be there. But after everything Uldren did, the way things ended…”

Panel 11: Crow turns his head away from Glint, leaning on his right hand stiffly. Crow: “I don’t think I’ll hear from him again.”

Panel 12: Glint floats in front of Crow again. Crow is looking down and away from the camera. Glint: “... And you’re okay with that?”

Panel 13: Crow starts to turn back towards Glint, looking torn. Crow: “... I-” He is interrupted by a dinging sound coming from his pocket.

Panel 14: Crow pulls his phone from his pocket, looking at the screen curiously. The phone dings again, and the screen shows that there are two new notifications.

Panel 15: Crow pulls the phone very close to his face, clutching it tightly with both hands. He is staring at the phone with comically wide eyes, looking alarmed and is blushing lightly. The phone shows two messages from an external sender [EXT]. Crow: “A-” Phone: “Are you still in the reef?” Phone: “It’s Jolyon”

Panel 16: Wide shot of Crow squatting like a gremlin on the branch, holding the phone with both hands directly in front of his face as he types on it quickly. He is blushing, and looks extremely focused. Glint is spinning excitedly above him. Crow’s response is visible coming from the phone. Phone (Crow’s response): “yes leaving tomorrow” Glint: “He’s messaging you!! Do you think he wants to see you??” Crow: “I don’t know shush” Crow: “He’s typing…”

Panel 17: Close up of the phone screen, where 3 messages from Jolyon are visible: [EXT]: Can we talk? [EXT]: Meet me here? [EXT]: (a UI element reads NAV DATA SHARED, showing a nav point over cartographical lines)

Panel 18: Close up of Crow’s face, looking down at the phone. He look surprised.

Panel 19: Text shows Crow’s response: “on my way.”

#i like them so much!!!!!!!!!#It's Crow Sulking Hours #i will be getting deep into mine own headcanons for jolyon & uldren for this project #starting with: whatever they had going on i think it was probably a 'b- needs improvement' realistically #on account of uldren having so much wrong with him all of the time #society if the sovs didn't have absolutely nuclear levels of mommy problems #crowlyon #crow destiny #jolyon till #uldren sov #destiny 2

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bobgasm · 9 months

Text

oral technique | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 1348 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], oral sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), bob’s a virgin in this

summary: in which you teach bob how to give head

author’s note:

oneshot | masterlist | ao3

You felt a warmth flourish in the pit of your stomach. “If you want to learn, I can always teach you.”

You lay across the couch, legs in Bob’s lap, a hand of his resting above your knee, the other draped over the back of the couch. A light dusting of colour tainted his cheeks as he looked towards you, embarrassed by what he’d just confessed, and what you’d just proposed. You felt your chest start to rise and fall rapidly, watching the internal conflict he was having with himself as he let his emotions show on his face. A frown turning into what could have been a smirk before he cleared his throat and composed himself.

You could only assume this was how he had been raised, internalizing any and all emotions. He was how men had been raised to be for decades, but slowly you were trying to teach him that he could tell you anything without any judgment. That you wouldn’t reveal to anyone his secrets or make fun of him. Talking to you was a safe space.

And tonight was one of those nights where you had acknowledged the feelings that you had towards each other. Flirting heavily and touching each other as frequently as possible. You can’t remember how you got onto the topic, but hearing that he’d never been down on a woman, let alone been with one, sent your mind into overdrive. There was so much you wanted to teach him, that you didn’t think twice about asking if he wanted to learn.

“I…like you’d give me pointers?” He asked, the hand he had resting on your leg subconsciously sliding further up.

“Like, I’d show you,” you replied, placing your hand over his and stopping it from moving. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable and there was no pressure for him to agree, and making sure his hand stopped where it did was vital. You were turned on and if he asked you innocent questions while his hands had a mind of their own, you’d be in a different situation.

“Show me on what?”

“Me.” The confusion on his face almost broke you. “I’d tell you what to do as you did it,” you elaborated and he nodded slowly.

“What would be the best position to…? What would give me a better angle?”

“If you got on the ground,” you said, your head spinning as he slid onto the floor and sat back on his knees, watching you spin around so that you were facing him. Your legs parted slightly. “God, are you sure, Bob?”

“I’m sure.” He looked up at you with lust-blown pupils. The intensity and sincerity of his eyes made you melt as he placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs so he could settle himself in between them.

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweats and lifted your hips, only to have his hands replace your own as he removed your pants. His touch searing your skin and making you crave him even more. His hands made quick work of discarding your sweats as you scooted yourself forward so you were half off the couch, feeling so exposed as you set your feet on the ground, legs spread wide and your crotch level with his eyes.

“So do I just…go for it?” He asked and you released a nervous laugh.

“Kiss my thighs,” you instructed him. “You want to build up the anticipation. She’s already going to be wet and wanting you, but you want to tease her. Turn her into putty in your hands…or mouth.”

Bob kissed your thighs as instructed, but left quick pecks rather than sloppy kisses. He was clearly as nervous as you.

“Don’t be afraid to be sloppy,” you told him and he looked up at you, holding your gaze as he licked from your inner mid-thigh to hip. Tongue tantalizingly close to where you desperately wanted him. “Mm, yeah,” you encouraged breathily, running your fingers through his hair. “Most women don’t like visible hickeys, but it’ll drive her crazy if there are ones only she knows about. Like over her breast or hip.”

He got the hint and began nipping at your skin, sucking a bruise into your hip as you arched into his touch. Needing him to touch you more than he already was.

“Play with her while you tease her,” you said, unsure as to how you were still able to form coherent sentences. “Give her a finger to suck on or play with her breasts.”

You closed your eyes and felt a finger trace over your bottom lip. Your mouth opened instinctively as you welcomely sucked the digit. His mouth left sloppy kisses over your lower abdomen.

You moaned around his finger and grabbed his wrist, removing it from your mouth when it was nice and wet. Guiding his hand down between your thighs and teasing your clit with his finger.

“When you go down on a girl you always pay special attention to this little nub,” you said, opening your eyes as his mouth left your stomach. Finding his gaze where you were teasing yourself with his finger. “The clitoris will always be your best friend in pleasuring a woman.”

“I’m so fucking hard,” he cursed, barely speaking above a whisper.

“Good,” you said, groaning as he slipped his finger lower, barely able to restrain yourself from taking him into my warmth. Knowing his finger alone would feel good.

God, there had been nights where you had fantasized about what his hands could do to you, and now one of those fantasies was coming true. Even if you had to teach him.

“Bob.” you moaned. “Fuck, I need your mouth. Lick up my slit.”

You let go of his hand so you could guide his head to where you needed his mouth. Your hands wound tightly into his hair, legs struggling to stay open as you felt the heat of his tongue against your core. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as he tasted you and let a gloriously loud moan vibrate against your center.

“Oh, holy fuck,” you panted as his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked gently. Your legs closed around his head, only to be forced open again by his strong hands.

You felt the scratch of his stubble against your inner thighs and threw your head back in bliss as he pressed a finger inside you. Your body welcomed the intrusion by bucking your hips against his mouth as his tongue lapped at your most sensitive spot.

“Mm–oh, god! Move your finger. In and out,” you struggled to say. “Make a hook out of it once you’re in. Pl–fuck–play with the spongy wall.”

Bob did as you said and you had no time to feel embarrassed about the sound that just came out of your mouth as he pressed another finger into your core and did just that. Fucking you with his mouth and fingers.

“Bob, yes. Bob!” You moaned, your high building as you held onto his head for dear life, your other hand roughly palming your breasts. “When a woman says she’s close, whatever you do, don’t you f–uh, fuck,– fucking dare change what you’re doing. Y-You want her to come, and trust me, it’s a glorious sight when she does. You’ll want to make her come all the time. Bob, fuck, I’m close.”

Bob hummed against you as you were pushed over the edge. This time he didn’t bother spreading your legs, he let them wrap tightly around his head as your hips rolled against his mouth and your thighs quivered. Your entire body convulsing as he coaxed your orgasm from you while you rode out your high. Continuing to taste you long after you had finished and still suffering from the aftershocks that he’d brought on.

“Fuck, that was…oh my god.” Bob chuckled as you smoothed your hand through his hair, a euphoric grin on your lips. “You taste so good.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #*oral technique

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loveliestlovelygirl · 4 months

Text

an affair of the heart

boss!anakin x secretary!reader

synopsis: after months and months of mutual pining, your boss, anakin skywalker finally makes a move on you, though he has the absolute worst timing.

w.c: 0.6k+

highlights: {minors dni} office romance, power imbalance, infidelity, anakin is married, semi-public sexual encounter, explicit language, brief mentions of domestic violence

“I won’t tell her,” Anakin whispers, his deep voice low, his lips brushing over your ear. “Will you?” His entire body drapes over yours and presses you against the edge of your work desk.

With the perfect way your bodies fit together, you can’t help but wonder if this is meant to be. You’ll never be his glamourous wife, the model, her beauty displayed on countless fashion magazines. She’s his equal in every way. But you know the truth of their marriage. He’s told you all his secrets. How she cheats on him. How she screams in rage when he disappoints her. How she hits him when they fight.

You’ve seen the bruises, evidence of the abuse he’s entertained for all the years they’ve been married. And you know he’ll never hit her back. It’s not in his character. He’s a sweetheart to her, and until now, such a loyal husband.

“I wouldn’t. But this… isn’t a good idea,” you say, trying to find the willpower to resist him.

Your nails dig into the hard surface while Anakin, your boss, hugs your body tightly and holds you dangerously close to his broad chest. The edges of his curly hair tickle the side of your cheek and your neck as he kisses you softly.

Anakin spins you around to face him. He leans down to match up your lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Haven’t you? I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me ever since I hired you.”

You shake your head. “No. No. I need this job.”

“Fucking me can be added to your list of duties if it makes you feel better.” He sighs against your skin. “I’ll even throw in a little raise for you… no, a big one.”

Your boss trails his hand around your waist and down your abdomen, rubbing your stomach through your clothes. Your skin twitches from the electricity you feel at only his touch. “Mmm… can’t. That wouldn’t be legal.”

“Angel… make an exception. For me.” His intense gaze burns your vision. He’s almost too pretty to look at. “I make the rules around here, don’t I?”

You bite the edge of your lips. This is bad. Very bad. And very tempting.

“Someone might see,” you argue, more with yourself than with him. That’s the only excuse you could think of besides the fact that Anakin is your fucking boss. Now he wants to be your boss that fucks you.

You really never wanted this to happen. Of course, you’d have the occasional fantasy, a little daydream about him here and there, but you’d never thought he’d come onto you. And at the worst possible timing. You’re supposed to be briefing him for the upcoming meeting. The one that’s supposed to be happening in—you check the clock about the door—twenty fucking minutes.

“You should know I don’t care about that.” His tone is suggestive, hinting at the time you caught him with his wife one day when you came in early. He had her sprawled out over his desk. That was when things were good between them, before she started to get violent.

“You’ll be late to the meeting with—”

He shuts you up with a kiss, his mouth pressing to yours gently and quietly demanding more. This is the first time you’ve ever kissed him. Though it’s something you thought of a lot over the months of your employment. His lips are soft and smooth, everything you’ve dreamed about. And when you kiss him back, against your better judgment, you swear you hear him gasp. How long has he wanted this too?

Anakin lifts you up onto your desk and pulls your legs apart, squeezing his body between your thighs. Halfheartedly, you try to hold him there, keep him away, but it doesn’t work. It can’t work. Because. You. You love him.

And so, you yield… to his every impulse.

add yourself to my taglist!!

#loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #hayden christensen #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine

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jeongin-lvr · 9 months

Note

Hii I saw that you were taking requests and I wanted to see if you couldn’t write Hyunjin x thick!reader? 🫶🏽✨

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ love you more, h. hyunjin

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗒！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋，𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 （𝖿！ 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀）， 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗑， 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒／𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄／𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝗒／𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗒， 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖧𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄， 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 ／ 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽， 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

[ 2723 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗟 began when I mentioned how out of place I felt at the party. Surrounded by those pretty girls all in their gorgeously draped, diaphanous fabric of choice. All with their makeup done and delicately etched onto their faces like canvas work; some wearing their hair in sweet up-do’s, their locks framing their face, while others opted to just leave their hair free. Curled or straightened, they were all stunning. And maybe comparison isn’t the best choice but how could I not when I was surrounded by them all? Gowns felicitous for the occasion and heels high, the feeling of being completely out of place was hard to bare.

“Everyone’s so… pretty,” I had mumbled to my boyfriend, tugging the sleeve of his tuxedo while scanning the group of gorgeous girls. It hurt to be jealous but it wasn’t just a feeling I could push down; their smiles bright and gowns flowing behind them as they tramped around, the air surrounding them full of giggles.

Hyunjin glanced down at me, perplexed by why I looked so saddened by the sight.

“You’re the prettiest one here,” And every bit of me wanted to believe that. To feel seen and loved and heard by the one I loved the most. But my heart felt like a heavy stone sinking in water, until I felt like it couldn’t go any further. Hyunjin squeezed my hand, bringing me back into reality. A pretty smile on his plump lips, and while no words left his mouth I knew what he was trying to say.

Words were meaningless if they didn’t have intention behind them; so actions were beginning to speak louder.

And the action of his head being between my thighs was enough to make my head spin, warm tongue gliding up and down my slit. Little groans leaving his mouth as I callously tugged on his hair, chanting his name in breathless moans like a song. Synchronized with the way his slender hands delicately felt me up and down, squeezing my thighs like bread dough. Squishing them, enjoying how they’d close tightly around his head each time his tongue would suddenly flick at my clit.

“Love these pretty thighs, baby,” Hyunjin broke free from between my legs, kissing up and down my flesh with his shiny chin and mouth, both drenched in the wetness of my cunt. He still wore that gorgeous red satin tie on his neck, loosened but precedent. His suit crinkled, white button down creased and halfway undone. Hyunjin was far too excited to taste the nectar between my thighs to even worry about his own attire.

His pretty disheveled hair was sticking to the slick on his face as he kissed me more. A trail of precum and saliva trailing up and down my inner thigh, “So fucking pretty when they’re shaky like this.” Another kiss, his teeth nipping at my skin again, a sharp pain that made my leg jerk, “Do I do this to you, baby? Make you feel good? What do you want me to do for you, hon?” Hyunjin’s caramel dewy eyes were practically glowing as he licked a stripe up my leg, going from my calves to my thighs, then kitten-licking my sopping cunt.

“More… Jinnie, please more,” I breathed out in shaky whispers. Maintaining eye contact as he held up my thigh, draping it over his shoulder and dipping his head down again. Lips wrapping around my clit and sucking harshly, eliciting the prettiest moans he loved to hear- borderline pornographic as my fingers meshed with his hair.

“Wan’ more, pretty?” Hyunjin mumbled against my cunt, vibrations from his husky voice making me shiver, “More what? Speak up.”

My eyes shot to the mirror behind Hyunjin, eyeing his crouched figure, head buried in my pussy, tongue desperately lapping up my neediness. Pretty slurps and groans leaving his mouth only to be absorbed by my body, fueling my oncoming orgasm.

“More of you-“ his tongue entered my hole, making my neck crane, falling back into the white pillow beneath my head, “Fuck- your cock, wanna feel it, please-“ I chanted those pleas over and over again, egging him on once I caught wind of his erection growing in the mirror. Hyunjin’s needy rutting into the mattress as he worked diligently between my legs. His fingers held my thighs open, periodically letting them clamp around his head and neck because he silently enjoyed the struggle for hair.

“My cock? You want my cock, honey?” Hyunjin let go of my clit with a wet pop, lewdly swiping at the precum pooling at the end of his chin. Pretty lashes fluttering as he rose his head, finally meeting my face as he pressed a hand to the side of the mattress. Gripping the sheets as he propped his body up above me, tongue flickering over his bottom lip. Patiently waiting for my words.

“Yeah, baby,” I hummed with watery eyes. Hyunjin groaned, just as desperate.

“You’re the prettiest girl,” He lathered my cheeks and lips with kisses, praising me like a goddess. My heart swelled, mind running foggy and pink with lusty haze. His pretty hand cutely held my chin, eyes boring into my lips, “The fucking prettiest. And you’re all mine. Yeah?”

I nodded feverishly, feeling his hard-on press into my inner thigh the more he spoke. Little praises filling the air and drenching the lustful atmosphere with adoration, love. Nothing more pure in the world. Almost as if he was inebriated, his words slurred and dragged on, lips brushing against mine from the close propinquity.

He squeezed the flesh of my thigh, my throat letting out a soft whimper from his touch. He wanted a response fast.

“Yes! All yours, my pretty Jinnie,” His name felt like candy on my tongue, his eyes little golden trinkets that poured passion between us. Drowning us with the prettiest haze of desire.

“You know you’re the prettiest?”

I paused, unsure. My hands lacing together at the back of his hair and gently tugging. Cute mewls leaving my lips as he massaged the fat of my thighs. Insecurity wasn’t supposed to be brought up in the bedroom, I know. But suddenly I was growing aware of myself. My thighs, my belly, my everything. Suddenly I was the fish out of water; the air was no longer hot and warm with lust but nervousness. Not the good kind. Not the kind that generously pooled in my panties.

I closed my legs, thighs squeezing together between his legs. He glanced down, Hyunjin’s lips parting as if to say something.

Then he did, “You don’t believe me?”

My breathe hitched, eyes tracing his expressions, silently searching for something. I didn’t quite know what, though.

I shook my head, lips quivering. My eyes once again fell to the mirror behind him, then the chair beside it that draped my dress. A dress I was so excited to wear to that party until I got there. Because when I got to that little formal event I felt so out of place; everyone else elegantly dressed, meanwhile my mind was racing with how I wasn’t pretty enough. Wasn’t good enough.

His voice lowered to a sensual whisper, softening his eyes as he looked at a me and pressed on, “Want me to show you, baby?”

I head tilted, his pale hands cupping the side of my face as he watched my expressions. His dark hair trickling down to tickle my cheek, kindly holding me like the most delicate glass ever. I felt the warmth of his hand, the gentleness of his actions, and the somber undertone of his voice. He was sincere and that saccharine look in his eyes said it more than words ever could.

I meekly nodded, curious as to what he’d do- what he’d say.

I watched him adjust, moving up from on top of me, sitting beside my body with his legs spread wide and his eyes on me. The man gestured me over, hand beckoning me forward. I crawled over, quickly sitting in his lap, face close to his and thighs around his body.

“Gorgeous, can you turn around,” Hyunjin muttered against my lips, fixing my hair out of my face. I nodded, following his orders obediently. Hyunjin watched as I turned around in his lap, spreading my legs prettily for him while narrowly avoiding the view of the mirror. Hyunjin placed a hand firmly on my jaw, the only force was his words, however, “Look. Look at yourself, pretty.”

I blinked at the reflection, first seeing my widened thighs, exposing my shiny pink cunt that was drenched with arousal. A sinful reflection yet all I saw how my body and the way it moved and curved, every indent catching my eye, every little mark I wasn’t too fond of.

“This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Hyunjin muttered, pressing his lips into the skin of my neck, hands raising to my chest, fawning at my breasts with enthusiasm. Fingers playing with my nipples as he peppered kisses up and down my clavicle bone, so gentle. Adorning my skin were fresh blotches of hickeys, teeth indents bruising me along with the shine of his saliva. All of it was reflecting back at me through the shine of the mirror.

Another kiss, “My pretty thing.” Hyunjin’s pretty cock was begging to be freed from its fabric prison, pressing firmly into my ass, each little movement making him hiss. But he stood still, only feeling me and giving me the kisses. The pleasure with his hands, sleeves of his button down tickling my bare flesh. “Wanna have my cock?” Hyunjin whispered, “Show you how pretty you are when you’re fucked out.”

My cunt oozed with thrill at the thought of his cock, my eyes flickering to his bronze gaze in the reflection, a slight head nod, “Yes, so bad.”

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Hyunjin muttered into my skin, running a hand up my cunt and collecting the precum between his fingers, a slight look of mirth on his face, “Get up for me, baby, please.”

I whimpered from his hands, his pointer brushing against my nub as I got up. I watched the boy, undo the button of his pretty dress pants, letting them fall to his ankles while his boxers showcased the thick cock behind the fabric. Limerence filled my soul as I watched him take those off as well, the prettiest pink cock springing out against his crumbled shirt. His hands then holding the base and letting out a stiff whimper at his own touch, hair falling in front of his eyes.

“C’mere, my love,” Hyunjin grabbed my waist, bringing me to his aid. I did so, facing the mirror across the room as I trapped his legs between mine, the soft, supple flesh of my thighs warming his legs, “God, gonna fuck this pretty cunt so good. Ready?” He asked sweetly, lewd words rocking through my head. Every syllable making the feeling of being exposed inch away slowly, draining out my mind.

Hyunjin aligned his gorgeous, sparkling cock with my cunt, teasingly brushing the tip over my folds in a strategic motion. Whines of desire at the tip of my tongue, just about to spill out when I felt the indescribable stretch of his cock inside me, just an inch or two, the rest slowly beginning to rock inside me. My head fell back against his shoulder, stars burring my eyes with pink and white fuzz.

He slid me down all the way, bottoming out with my cunt full and dripping against his thighs. Hyunjin held my waist, a sheen of sweat glistening upon his face and chest, already wanting to pound into me and feel every inch my cunt had to offer. But he resisted, turning his attention onto the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” Hyunjin held my chin, turning my gaze to the mirror before us. My eyes fell to wear our bodies connected, mind numbing pleasure already making my hole clench around his member, twitching from just the pleasurable stretch, “Don’t look away. Want you to see how pretty you look as I make you feel good, kay?” He laid a delicate kiss into my cheek, looping his arms under my thighs and swiftly raising my body gently. Enough to feel the way his cock nearly emptied me, only to have him plow into me, so agonizingly slow. Perfectly dragging across my soaking walls.

I watched in awe, mouth dropping open the more I felt. Wet noises of our sexes meeting, skin slapping was the only sound in the air. Little moans left my throat, suppressing them to focus on keeping my head up. Staring at the reflection in the glass with lidded eyes.

Watching his pretty dick glide in and out of me in the reflection was better than any cinematic film I’ve watched; vein-ridden cock, stretching my pussy so beautifully while the thickness of it was coated in my own juices. Suddenly my reflection was all I wanted to stare at.

“See that, baby? See how good you take it?” Hyunjin placed a hand on my tummy, steadying himself. Quiet moans whispered into my ear from his lips, making my skin crawl in every direction.

“Fuck, Jin, so good,” I moaned, his hips snapping up into me now. Hands still gripping my thighs wide open for the mirror to see.

“You like that?” Hyunjin let out a moan, breathing heavy as he spoke, “My pretty girl like that? Want more, beautiful?”

“M-more,” I whimpered out, grinding my hips desperately each time he’d thrust into me. The speed of his hips blinding me periodically; my brain was so fuzzy I couldn’t see anything but the orgasm I desperately longed for.

The calamity of needed to finish was eating my insides.

Hyunjin’s nails dug into my thighs, pace quickening, the noises more frequent. Little squelch’s as I took him inside of my tight little cunt, wetness all over my inner thighs. I couldn’t withhold my moans anymore, all I could do was moan and watch as he fucked me so good.

“You gonna cum?” Hyunjin asked, watching in the mirror as I dropped my head back, keeping my eyes on myself, “Cum so I can show you how good you look when you do.”

His hand moved to my clit, matching his thrusts with the smooth feeling of his finger rubbing my clit. It was a dangerous combination.

“Cum, baby,” Hyunjin took notice of how my cunt clenched around him, whines less controlled and whiny.

“Gonna cum,” I yelled, shaky breath hitching each time he fucked into me, “Fuck me so good, Hyunjin-“ My words were slurred out, more stars in my eyes. His fingers working so good on my sweet love nub, dick hitting that gummy spot deep inside of me. Filling me only to thrust into me harder, deeper. It was inevitable. I felt my thighs ache, shaking as my own orgasm began to erupt inside me; overwhelming my senses, throaty moans leaving my mouth.

Hyunjin knew where to hit to make my climax drag on so good. He watched in the mirror, holding my chin tightly to make me look back at my reflecting body. Eyeing myself and my clenching, sensitive hole. I watched my own cum French the insides of my thighs, coating his cock in a pretty white.

Then I felt the familiar twitch of his cock inside of me. He pulled out, wrapping a hand around his length, his thick cock about to burst from his own high. To show my appreciation, I replaced his hand and jerked him into his own high, entranced as I watched his pretty pink tip ejaculation onto my tummy and hand, the white fluid hot and non-stop.

Covered in cum, I lulled my head back, vision clearing as I watched the ceiling with intrigue.

“Did so good,” Hyunjin mumbled into my skin, kissing the spots where his love bites burned my skin, “You really are the prettiest, y’know.”

I nodded, turning my head into his neck and kissing lazily, “Thank you, love.”

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