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navybrat817 · 5 months

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" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 10 days

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30 / 1.1k / soap soulmate au, part 7

...

The minutes tick by. You're alone with your thoughts. It's worse than before. But what are you supposed to tell him? All but the smallest thing you could give him would lead his entire team to Captain Graves, and you... you can't do that. You owe him a debt.

The door slams open and Soap walks back in, looking tired and angry. Before you can speak, he grabs you by the arm, drags you out of your chair, and then he's kissing you, pressing you up against the wall. His hands are in your hair and on your hips, his hard body against yours, his teeth finding the place where your neck meets your shoulder.

Everything about it is possessive, angry, desperate. One hand slides around to your ass. The other weaves tighter into your hair, holding you tight between him and the wall, his hips grinding into yours.

"Thought I was gonna have to wait till you stopped being so damn stubborn. You were never going to tell me, were you?" His soft growl is low, heated, and hurt. "You’re always gonna keep this to yourself. Even if it means letting me go to my grave."

He pulls you away from the wall and pushes you into the metal interrogation table with enough force to put you on your back. He advances on you. Straddles you. His mouth is hot and he's not giving you time to think. He's taking what he needs because he wants it, he's tired of waiting for it, and he's finally got you where he wants you. His teeth on your throat have you arching your back. His grip is tight but you don't want to escape.

His fingers dig into you. "Will you even miss me?"

You open your eyes, jolting in place. A dream, it was a dream. You're still cuffed to this stupid chair. You're hot and wet and there's a horrible knot in your throat.

The door slides open. That's what woke you--activity outside. A few people filter into the weapons closet briefly to grab rifles and sidearms. They hardly spare you looks. They leave; the voices outside begin to fade and you hear an engine firing up. Muted panic rises in your gut. They're about to leave. Are they leaving you here? Is Johnny gone already?

Then the door rattles softly and Johnny's familiar shape slips in. He glances back out the door, watching for anyone who might’ve seen him slip in before he closes it. You release a breath through gritted teeth.

"Mornin’.” Soap is suited up, radioed, armed to the teeth. Looking every inch the soldier he is. Your heart sinks. You're in deep. No matter how this situation turns out, it's not good for you. Whoever wins, you lose.

Instead of taking the chair, he circles behind you. You rattle your cuffs as he leaves your line of sight.

"Change your mind?" he asks you.

"No."

He chuckles. "Thought not."

He bends closer. Your heart races. You half-expect to feel his hands--your dream flashes through your mind--but then, to your surprise, you hear the soft clink of metal on metal. He pulls on the cuffs. One falls away. Then the other.

You get to your feet, curling and uncurling your fingers. "Why are you letting me go?" you ask, voice still sharp. "I told you I'm not helping you."

Soap looks bemused. It's like you don't know how to stop being belligerent even when you're not a hostage anymore. "Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I’m under strict orders not to let you leave this room. But if you just so happen to vanish..." He holds up the key--the one he'd swiped from Ghost earlier. "That’d be fine with me.”

“What are you playing at?”

“There's a chance none of us will come back. Don't like the idea of you sittin' here like a rabbit in a trap for God knows how long." He holds out a neat little square of folded cash. When you don't take it, he reaches around and slips it into your back pocket. "There's a town four miles southwest of here. Set off in a half hour and you’ll get there before sundown. Take somethin' off the wall to protect yourself."

You stare at him, your frustration growing with every word he says. Why does he trust you enough to free you? Why? He knows very well you could pick up the first phone you see, call your Captain, and tell him everything. Hell, you could call Shepherd.

You tried your dead fucking best to show him who you are. Why doesn't he believe you? Does he think you're going to grab his hand and ask him to come with you--fuck the Shadows, fuck Las Almas, you know how to buy fake IDs and burner phones, you'll figure it out a day at a time?

Your throat tightens. You could obviously never say that. And if you did consider it, you'd bite your tongue because there's no way he'd accept. You have so much to gain from running away and he has too much to lose. He cares about his team too much.

He skims his gloved fingertips up your arm and goes to touch your cheek again, but then he hesitates and stops himself. You feel radioactive.

"How 'bout a kiss for the road?" he asks. He seems to decide on taking a strand of your hair and places it tentatively behind your ear. "Just in case."

Your hands tighten into fists. How dare he.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't make me walk away from you disappointed." He gives you a small, infuriating smile.

"If you want a kiss, then come back for it when you're done."

"Ah. Fair enough."

He brings his hands up to the sides of your face and presses his lips to your hairline anyway, leaning into you for a long, silent moment.

Then he's gone.

…

You sit cross-legged on that table for a long stretch of time, spinning in one hand the handcuffs that held you. You stare at that photograph and count the seconds. At thirty minutes, you set off, walking southwest.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / [part 7] / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

more Soap / masterlist tag

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shaisuki · 7 months

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nanami isn't rough with you despite disobeying him. his number one rule for you to never go outside without him as if the cuffs in your ankles doesn't work. it sends waves of electric shock into your body whenever you stepped your foot outside from the confines of his home and despite that you still push your luck of escaping him and you almost did. the restraints malfunctioned and you think you're finally free from his grasps but no that's why he's latch into you while he ruts deeply inside you — down in the cold floor of your "home" with him. his tie hanging around his neck, belts unbuckled and his slacks pooling in his knees. his large hand holding your thicker wrists above your head.

“what is my number one rule, baby?” he asks but he didn't gave you a chance to answer. his lips locking into yours and forcing your mouth to open and when he did — shoves his tongue. exploring it with such need and want. the sensation of his tongue gliding through the roof of your mouth and twisting it with yours. wet and sloppy. your saliva spilling in the corner of your mouth.

he wasn't angry at you. he was disappointed at himself for underestimating you that you wouldn't escape him. fully believing that you were truly dependent to him. good thing he doesn't have to do overtime or else he would lose you for good.

nanami always made sure to prep you before engaging with any sexual activities to you but this time he didn't. although it pains his heart to hear you whimper and seeing your round face twist in discomfort while he sheathed himself inside you. he makes up for it for being gentle with his actions despite you breaking his number one rule.

his other hand holding your plush waist while he rocks his hips back and forth. his cock rubbing all over your sweet spots that leaves your clenching around his lenght. nanami is so sweet to you though. sucking on your nipples like a baby, his tongue swirling and occasionally bites the hardened bud.

“don't do that again, darling. there will be no next time with me being this gentle with you if you ever break that rule again. don't make me hate myself for hurting you.” he coos at you between thrusts. “understand?” he continues but he doesn't get any response from you. he knew you hated him more than anything else and he's trying hard for you to warm up to him and it hurts him when you gazes at him through the tears pooling in your doe eyes. your lips tucked behind your teeth to suppress the moans that were threatening to spill from your mouth.

nanami frowns at you. the hard lines on his face getting deeper. “don't be mad at me, sweetheart. i'm just doing my responsibility in protecting you. the outside world is dangerous for you.” he reasons and at this point realizing it's pointless for him to explain it to you. nanami sighs. his gaze is soft and he can't help but to groan as you clench around him.

if his words won't reach you, his actions would and that's what he did. the movement of his hips and his cock brushing to your soaking hole would convey how much he wants you, the desire to protect and show you he could provide for you — that you would be contented to be with him and he is.

his hands finding comfort to the plushness of your waist. his fingers sinking as he grips it to pound deeply into you. brown eyes staring at you. quite annoyed at you for covering your mouth but he knows the effect he have in you. he can still hear the little whines and moans coming from you and that's enough for now. there will be always a another day that you wouldn't be so stubborn to him and that comforts him — a bit.

when you have cummed, that was the cue for him to spill his seed deep inside you. groaning at the sweet release and his muscles relaxing and he can feel the stress leaving from his body.

he pulls out from you, watching as his cum leaks from your dripping hole. creating a mess in the cold, wooden floor. he grabs your ankles. unlocking the cuffs and his hands rubbing the sore spot from them. he hated those cuffs but for your safety — he would endure it with the assurance that you can't never leave him. raising your legs. he softly presses a chaste kiss to them.

“you did good for me, darling.” that's a lie. you weren't and you expected that there would be more sessions of this “lovemaking” he calls and you were right. scooping you up from the floor and he walks to the direction of your bedroom.

cradled in his arms like you were a newborn and you hated every bit of it but for nanami — it is just one of the many things you deserves.

doesn't matter if you hate him or not — as long you're by his side — forever.

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #plus size reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x chubby reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 6

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

Credit to russellius for the GIF

You'd texted your dad, just asking if he wanted to meet in The Luxor, it was a hotel that you knew none of the drivers would be in to interrupt and hopefully fans would be to a minimum as it was quiet an expensive hotel.

You thought it would be better, breaking the ice with your dad first before fully speaking to George. Your dad hadn't said anything as bad as George did, so you felt like now was the time to have an adult conversation with him.

So that's where you were right now, you were stood watching over the Casino's ground floor from the balcony. You felt a sort of shadow next to you, and it made your head turn left. Your dad walked up standing next to you, his arms leaning on the balcony banister pushing the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows.

"Hey Dad!" you smile looking over at him a soft expression on your face.

"Hello Barchen" he says softly, looking over at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen on his face. Tears welled in your eyes at the sweet little nickname he'd always used for you.

"Dad I-" you start but he places a large hard over yours, keeping eye contact with you.

"No, I'm sorry for everything I said to you. You deserved a place on the team, you've done wonderful things for Red Bull. And as much as i want you back in the garage I wont ask that off you!" he admits, your head swinging to look back over him as your gaze had travelled down back to the busy casino life.

"I, but what if I want to come back?" you ask, in shock. Did your dad not want your help?

"I know you don't want too, you've found a place in Red Bull that i wish i could have given you and I'm so so proud of you. I think I was just so scared about seeing my Little Bear grow up. I always want to protect you and I don't know, making such a big step and becoming an engineer in the team..." he admits.

"I thought, you didn't think I was good enough!" you say tears brimming in your eyes.

"Never, I'm always so proud of you, my beautiful beautiful daughter. I just fear that I'm loosing you. You've been such a big part of my life for the last 23 years that...I can't let go! You come everywhere with me"

"I know, which was why branching out was the hardest thing I've ever done. But it needed to be done. I love being the daughter of Toto Wolff, not because your Toto Wolff the Team Principle of Mercedes, but because your the man who drove me 3 hours when i slipped over in the garage and cut myself on some metal. Your the man who was there for me when i first ever had my heart broken, your the man who cheered so loudly when I collected my GCSE's because I didn't have anyone else to celebrate with, and most importantly your my dad. I love you, but I wanted to prove that I don't feed off your income, and that I can pave my own way. Honestly I don't think I even would have had the chance at Red Bull if it wasn't for your last name, but I still did it" you ramble, and all your dad can do is stare at you in awe at all the memories you recounted together.

He remembered when how scared he was when he heard a little scream followed by yells from all of his mechanics. He trusted them to look after you, and he knew it wasn't their fault but he was furious that you'd slipped and gotten yourself hurt. He made sure he stayed with you in the garage at all times after that.

He remembered holding you why you cried to him, picking yourself apart and asking him why you weren't good enough. Two hearts broke that day, as his did when yours did. Seeing his little girl, crying over such a stupid and insolent boy... Toto would make sure his changes getting into F1 were zero to none.

He remembered the day you went to collect your GCSE's from the nearest school to the Mercedes F1 headquarters in Brackley. You walked in, seeing loads of people that you didn't know all excited to see each other and showing each other what they got. Some were laughing some were crying for all different reasons. It kind of reminded Toto of the last race at the end of the season in Abu Dhabi. He cheered so loud the hall looked over at the pair of you when you presented him your amazing grades.

But recently since 2021, he'd realized how absent he'd been as your dad. In the process of wanting to keep you with him as his little girl all he'd been doing was just pushing you away. And he hated himself for that.

"I know - I know I've done a lot wrong, but I'd really like it if you could find it in yourself to forgive me!" he says, pulling you into a searing hug, so tight and so warm and you'd missed it dearly.

"You know, you guys cooked really do with my help at Merc" he smile, looking away from him and back down at the casino. You hear him chuckle from your side and he observes down on the gaming floor with you.

"Mmmmm? What would you suggest?" he asks. You laugh in turn.

"Ah, see you might be my dad, but right now you're my competitor. I can't be dealing in secrets" you admit and he looks over to you in shock.

"But I'm your dad!" he fakes his offence taken making you laugh a little more.

"I know, so technically this" you say gesturing between the two of you. "Is a conflict of interest! I can't be seen meeting you in secretive locations!"

"Well, maybe you'll consider coming back to Mercedes but I want to let you know just how proud I am of what you've helped them achieve at Red Bull!" he smiles, pulling you into a tight hug, one that you didn't want to get out of.

"So, I guess I'll see you in Abu Dhabi?" you ask.

"I was actually hoping you'd come home for a bit. The house has felt so empty despite George coming over most days in the off season" he admits, knowing he'd do anything to have you come home even if it's just for a day or two.

"Well, I think I'm needed in the Red Bull Centre on the 20th, but I'll stay with you for the rest of the week, and travel to Abu Dhabi with you!" you grin, knowing you would like to spend some time with your dad Suzie and Jack.

"You're coming home?" he beams.

"I'm coming home dad" you smile nodding.

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #george russell smut #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell #toto wolff #toto wolff dad

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mybworlds · 3 months

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Sex with stranger, one-shot

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: You, a beautiful stranger, an elevator.

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning tags: porn with lil plot, no use of Y/N, no outbreak, use of 'you', age difference not specified, smut, use of pet name, dirty talk, fingering, f & m masturbation, unprotected P in V, oral f receiving, if I miss smt please write me.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

It was the end of the second semester when you met him, the man who would fuel your wildest sexual fantasies, your obsession, your sociolinguistics teacher, Dr. Miller. Before you met him you were a young woman always hunched over your books, focused on finishing your course of study as soon as possible, always ready to commit to a thousand and one projects just to get the most credits that would allow you to finish as soon as possible, then one day in February your eyes fell on his figure and that's where it all went to hell.

You're at the little kiosk outside the campus with one of your many unfailing books, this time it's the turn of the sociolinguistics book, your next course and next exam. Everyone had told you you'd soon meet the most bastard professor in the campus, the one with the cold stare, with smirks which he seemed initially to want to seduce you and then sink you in later, with a strong presence and a strong southern accent. Some had been positively impressed at first sight only to call him an asshole on the exam, others had called him a big bastard and that was it. You were never afraid to be confronted with punctilious and penetrating-looking professors, you just had to study and know more than him and everything would be fine.

That morning, you anticipate on purpose, you want to get to class before everyone else, even before the famous Dr. Miller. Arriving at the lobby, you read on the small monitor about his lecture would be on the fourth floor in Lecture Hall F. So, you head for the elevator, press the little button to call it, and wait. You are flanked by a man whom you don't dignify with a glance, however, too focused on arriving early, getting there first, being called an excellent student even by this other professor.

The doors open, and you enter, followed by this man. The doors close and you take a long breath; you never liked elevators, but that morning you made an exception. Not even a minute later the cabin stops with a jolt, and you find yourself staggering against the wall, the lights inside flicker and you start to sweat.

"Oh no." you find yourself groaning as you close your eyes.

"Afraid of elevators, aren't ya?" a voice asks you. Only then you remember you are not alone; you look up and find yourself observing the man standing there with you. Powerful physique, white shirt turned up to the elbows, jacket folded over one arm, curious look, dark brown eyes.

"Never liked 'em," you answer him, opening the jacket to breathe.

"It's okay, little one, we'll be out soon." the man says with a strong southern accent.

Little one? No one has ever called you that-- not even your ex, you find yourself thinking about that jerk and how he had sleazily cheated on you with your best friend before you started college, you've had a hard time trusting men ever since. In fact, after him, relationships with men have always been one-night stands. You were in fact too burned.

"I like people like you who anticipate, everyone should be like that," the man comments again.

You take a long look at his face, he's a handsome man, "Thank you. I'm here to make a good impression and instead I'm going to be late and maybe the professor will even be mad at me because he'll probably say you have to use the stairs instead of the elevator before going to class." now you're talking off the cuff and before long the guy is likely to tell you to shut up because he doesn't care, but then again he does, why should he listen to you?

"I'm sure he'll understan'." he tells you, throwing you a long look from head to toe.

You had even dressed strangely well that morning, you had decided to wear a dark suit and loafers with a bit of a heel, anything to make a good impression. Instead, you now have this stranger's gaze devouring you.

You notice the glint in his eyes, the way he licks his lips, you are not stupid, you understand by now what goes on in men's heads. You know when someone wants you, and the man next to you is no exception.

"You wanna fuck me?" you ask him direct, approaching him lewdly.

The man approaches you, he's tall, he's broad, "Yes." he simply answers you by dropping his jacket at his feet and then bridging the distance between him and you.

He places his lips on yours slipping his tongue into your mouth, you immediately accept it returning the kiss letting a moan escape into his mouth, you place your hands on his chest feeling him mighty under your fingers as you feel his hands in your hair and push you not too gently against the elevator wall.

You are crushed between the wall and his body, but you don't complain about it. You delight in hearing the stranger almost growl into your mouth, as you feel him place his hands on your hips almost pushing you against him.

You take that gesture as an invitation to continue, you place your fingers on the edge of his pants, then with one hand caress his still-covered intimacy, and this time you hear clearly a growl coming from his throat.

He pulls his lips away from yours only to look into your eyes to read if there is any hesitancy in you, but you don’t stop, don’t desist, not now that your senses are completely enveloped by his strong presence. He then pounces on your neck, lapping it with kisses and gentle bites that send discharges of pure lust all along your body, while with his hands he pulls away the flaps of your jacket, opening it and sliding it down your shoulders.

"You're so soft, little girl," he tells you without stopping kissing your neck.

You slip your hand into his pants, feeling his growing erection against the palm of your hand, caressing it blissfully with that soft and hard feeling at the same time.

"Take 'em off." he orders you, and you obey, lowering both his pants and boxers together, freeing his massive erection.

"Fuck, you’re so big." you groan resuming stroking his intimacy.

He smiles as he unbuttons your shirt, "Hope you're ready, little girl," he tells you, sliding your shirt off as well before lapping at your neck, your collarbones of kisses alternating with licks and small bites.

"Can't wait for you to fill me," you tease him, abandoning his erection and running your hands through his curly hair and pressing his head against your chest.

He resumes kissing you, threading his hands through your hair as he rubs against you. When you started that day, you had no idea that you were going to have sex with a stranger, you usually have sex after at least some super alcohol, never sober.

He then runs his huge hands over your chest until he frees your breasts from the cups of your bra, "Fuck, you're perfect." he tells you before lapping one of your nipples between his lips and starting to suck it ravenously, while massaging the other one unceremoniously. You groan as you thread your hands through his hair, pushing his head against your chest and pulling a few strands of his hair as he licks a nipple.

You moan with your eyes closed and your head completely abandoned against the wall. You hear in the distance the elevator bell ringing, some voices saying it's still a half hour before you can get out; it's all muffled.

You feel him fumbling with the zipper of your skirt without leaving your chest, you help him as much as you can, totally lost under those precise touches that send discharges of pure lust throughout your body. He reserves the same care and lascivious caresses for your other breast as you press yourself against him, seeking further pleasure.

The skirt finally falls at your feet, you kick it off and then lower your underwear as well.

"Spread your legs, let me feel how aroused you are," the stranger says, turning his face away from your breasts and sliding one of his huge hands directly there, you are soaked. You groan when he unceremoniously slides two fingers inside you to the hilt, you drop your head against his shoulder as he rhythmically slides his fingers in and out. You see the stars behind your eyelids, it's beautiful.

"Come, little girl, I know you want it, come," he encourages you without stopping touching that magnificent spot inside you, you cling to him as you feel the orgasm sweep over you with great violence. He keeps stroking you until he feels you relax against him.

"You are so good." he tells you by bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking your nectar. Seeing that scene makes you aroused again, you bolt to the man's lips as he wraps you in his muscular arms making you feel so small in comparison, while you're stroking his erection again.

"I want to taste you," you tell him after a while, you are breathless but want to feel his huge erection on your tongue, you see him take a half step back giving you a chance to move and kneel in front of him. His erection towers in front of you and you find yourself moistening your lips, it's massive, you look at it through your eyelashes before tasting it with just the tip of your tongue in a quick bite. You see him close his eyes and breathe heavily through his nostrils, "You ready?" you ask, you see him nod and then you wrap it completely between your lips. You struggle to keep it all in your mouth, in fact you must help yourself with your hand in pumping his erection. His hands are in your hair, urging you to do more. It's wonderful to hear him moan and growl when you do something particularly good for him, you see him with his eyes closed and abandoned against the cockpit wall. His face is tense, and judging by the way he's gripping your hair, you're sure he's close.

"I want to come in your mouth," he moans.

"Come on, then." you encourage him, pushing his arousal away just enough so you can talk before resuming sucking and pumping until you feel streams of his hot seed in your mouth. Fuck, that's wonderful. You lick every drop of that nectar moaning yourself and hearing him moan discomposedly.

You look at him, "How d' you want me?" you ask without looking away from his eyes.

"On your knees, from behind," he replies, and fuck, that's your favorite position. You give him your back by getting on all fours, "I'm clean, but I have no condoms," he warns you.

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean too," you reassure him, "I want you to come inside me," you add looking over your shoulder, you see him pump his erection a couple of times, then finally he lines it up against your intimacy and pushes against you, his erection slowly enters you almost giving you the sensation of opening you in two, it's so good, you feel him touching points inside you never reached until that moment.

Moaning abandoning your head forward breathlessly, you feel his hands at the height of your hips to hold you still, then you feel him rotate his hips a couple of times sending discharges of pure lust into you, and then you feel him moving back and forth, you don't know how much you'll be able to hold on, you've never been so overstimulated as you are at this moment. You feel his balls cackle against your buttocks with increasing force, a sign that he must be close too, as one of his hands descends between your legs, seeking your clit. His finger makes quick, precise, circular movements on that little bundle of nerves making you gasp and see stars. Your moans become more and more choked until you feel again clearly warm liquid of his seed inside you and then only your short breaths to fill the cockpit.

He comes out from inside you pulling away, you sit first and then stand. It was the best fucking you have had in your entire life. You dress in silence, saying nothing to each other. Now reality is back to what it was before, you always late to your first sociolinguistics class and the stranger-- you don't know where he's headed, but you don't care.

Someone tells you that a few minutes and the elevator will start up again.

"Hope to see you again," he says, "Maybe on campus."

"In the elevator, maybe, for a second round," you propose with a lascivious smile buttoning your jacket and hearing the man smile.

"Or maybe in the room at my place," he proposes.

Yes, why not.

The cockpit with a little jolt starts up again, you hope to arrive at least by the end of class, you think as you look at your watch. You look for a moment longer at the man whose name you didn't even ask, nor he yours, then the doors open and you both exit to the fourth floor.

"'m going this way," he says, you nod.

"I'm going that way, I have class. Hope my professor'll understand."

"He'll understand, you'll see," he reassures you.

You exchange one more glance and then he leaves, you see him run a hand through his hair, and then you turn your back on him and walk toward the classroom. This one is already full, but of the mysterious Dr. Miller no sign. The students all look terrified; you, on the other hand, feel relaxed and think that after the incredible morning you've had, nothing can shock you. You open your bag, pick up your book, notebook and pen ready to take notes, when the unbelievable happens: the stranger, the man you just fucked and fucked you, appears in the classroom, you widen your eyes upon seeing him and your mouth almost reaches the floor when you see him reach the desk, roll up his shirt sleeves and turn his gaze toward the class.

"Mornin', I'm Dr. Miller. Your sociolinguistics teacher." he says introducing himself and looking at you students, then his gaze falls on you "I'll be here for the entire second semester, my office door is always open."

Shit, you're screwed.

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matchadobo · 19 days

Text

KIDD; picking him up from jail😭

warning/s: gn reader, modern au, kidd is violent, mentions of injuries and sex but nothin too crazy, kidd's a red flag sighhhh

* a real piece of work!! he'd frequent his days at the police station he'd start being homies with the cops

* would have a record of like jaywalking, traffic violations, gambling, prohibited purchases, assault. falling in that range bc he's pretty impulsive and does whatever he wants, but it don't mean he'll steal or kill or sumn

* most of the times it'd be assault 😭 pls he'll always be throwing hands at folks who crosses him or rubs him the wrong way. with you coming in the picture, he lessened this attitude. but it doesn't mean it'll stop.

* you always have to pick his ass up from police station 😭 it'd almost be like dates

* he'll always look like this good little kid that got into a fight patiently waiting for you with a scowl. but sometimes, if the officers gets too overbearing and starts insulting him, you'd interrupt their screaming fest. because amidst the cuffs, kidd will not hesitate to point and sneer at them ✋😩

* you'd have to physically stop him and apologize profusely to the cops to not add to his record more

* during which, he'd be littered with bruises and cuts. his clothes would be tattered but it's mostly because of him cuz he's just way too violent 🥹 especially when the other party have the same pettiness as him

* "look at you, you're worse than the last time!

* "you shoulda seen the other guy." he'd snicker, very proud at his state.

* you'd sigh heavily and drag his ass back home

* once home, kidd will notice that you'll be pissed. cuz bailing him is getting on your nerves, another money spent cuz of his arrogance! so he'll try and "apologize" by hugging you from the back and kissing your neck or smelling your hair as he mumble his "apologies"

* "i can always count on ya, huh?"

* "fuck off, kidd."

* you'd pull away from his embrace but he'd easily lock fingers with you and pull you back again to his arms

* "okay, okay, i'm sorry, babe. thanks for having my back again, like always, hm? you'll be glad this time, cuz i really did my best to not fight, alright? the other guy started it and he pissed me off"

* "sure, he did." you looked away with knitted brows, squeezing his hands on yours. "let me guess, he was just looking at you."

* "...that and some other things too! was at the bar enjoying shots with the boys, and he stole the rum i ordered. fucker tossed his money as payment at me thinkin' i'd let it slide like that."

* "guess he deserved it then."

* he'd follow you into the living room, sit by the couch, and watch you fetch the hygiene kit. you'd sit by the coffee table across him, motioning for him to come closer. this'd always be his favorite part.

* you ask him to take his shirt off to see the bruises from his torso, he'll pull it over his head and you really still have to swallow your spit each time you see him shirtless even after the long time your relationship lasted

* while you tend to his cuts and you're so close to his face, he'd always muse at you like it's the first time he'd been close like this. it'd always make you blush and sometimes forget why you're pissed. plEASE IMAGINE HIM being real quiet, observant, and patient with you and you're so close at kissing-width KSHDBXVDBV DIES the eustass kidd shutting up for once and staring at you cuz he finds your focused face real cute✋👰‍♀️

* "with your request of stopping my impulsiveness, it'd be hard to comply if this is what i'd come home to all the damn time."

* "i'll beat your ass myself don't worry." you'd clap back, pressing the q-tip with betadine on his cuts to elicit a pain response from him. which was successful, but he'd be laughing afterward

* he'd ramble all about how great he was at the fight, real proud of his mess. while he does so, you'd move onto his body to tend to some bruises

* "your ass hurts?"

* "kind of, fell pretty hard."

* "okay, so no sex."

* "what?! hey that's not-"

* "if you end up having more bruises and injuries, i don't want that."

* "b-but- ow!" you'd dab a little bit harder but not too much, just enough to shut him up

have a lot in queue?? just polishing the others and will release soon

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arminsumi · 9 months

Note

omgg i love ur writing broo it has my giggling, kicking my feet n shi and the fact that u also do fem black readers OMG I LOVE U anyways putting my appreciation aside, what abt nerdy freaky armin (if u havent already ofcc) like u cant tell me that man is FREAKYY (i ❤️ freaks)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

A/N: you are the cutest patoodiest 💗 mwa thank u sweetiepie! and ur absolutely right UR ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!! yk what they say it's alwaysss the quiet nerdy ones!! 🥰

Pairing: ARMIN Arlert x f.reader

Summary: Min's the nerdy valedictorian with a freaky side 🥰

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, SMUT, this isn't fully proofread 👀, sub.Armin/some light dom.Armin, stereotypes (nerd, popular girl), mean reader, dirty talk, public sex (library, during class), facial, handjob (reader giving), oral (reader giving), light humiliation/degradation, bondage (blindfolding, tying hands), mean names (freak, loser), creaming in his pants, hair pulling kink, slapping kink, begging, toys (vibrator), use me kink (or whatever it's called), lmk if i missed some i was in a freaky state of mind while writing lmfao

♪ spice up your life come and get a freak

Min is the quiet blond boy that sits next to you every chance he can get. He follows you like a puppy from class to class, trying his best to interest you — the pretty popular girl of his wet dreams — with every nerdy topic that comes to mind.

Yes he's blabbing your ear off about the importance of maths, but really he's thinking about what what color panties you wear. Do you prefer lace or plain? What's your favorite position? Do you prefer backshots? Missionary? Full Nelson? Mating press?

You wouldn't suspect the school's valedictorian to have such a nasty mind.

He just can't wait 'till you give him a taste. He knows you will 'cause he's been so good to you, always helping you study for tests and even taking notes for you when you're skipping class. He's been such a help.

The first time is his fantasy come true; you jerked him under the desk during a lecture. He shuddered n tried to focus on what the professor was saying, but how could he with your fingers wrapped so tightly around his pulsing cock? :( The poor boy came in his pants and enjoyed every second of it, even when he had to embarrassedly excuse himself after class to 'tend to an emergency'.

He loves when you make his glasses fog up from how hot his face is and how heavy he's breathing. He loves when you make them slide down the bridge of his pretty nose, mouth hanging open while you make out with his cock in the library.

That all started because he asked you "can you k-kiss my cock?"

Now he melts and falls apart, desperately muffling his moans by biting down on his thin textbook. When he's close he grabs a fistful of your hair n tugs your head back, pulling you off his cock with a sloppy pop — starting to jerk himself over your face.

"C-can I cum on your face?" he pants, already deciding that he would regardless of what you say. He had to see his milky white cum painting your face.

"Oh? You're a fucking freak," you giggle sweetly, sending a rush through his body, "Of course you can cum on my face."

He absolutely folds when you call him a freak. He lives for the moments you expose his kinks, too.

Of course he's into bondage, why wouldn't he be 🙄 he loves using a neat silk tie as a blindfold... on himself, not you. He squirms and whines and pleads, "Let me see you, please."

Don't forget to cuff him to your bed and milk him nicely!

If you wanna get him achingly hard and sensitive for you, you gotta degrade him :( call him a freak, call him pathetic, call him a loser, humiliate him for cumming in his pants, tell him he's your toy.

And if you wanna make him cum loads then you should consider indulging in his slapping kink — his hair pulling kink — everything. He just wants the popular girl to pull his hair while she rides his cock like a toy.

"Please please please use me — use my cock like your toy n' call me a loser again. Please! Mmm yes yes yes I'm pathetic for you, Y/n ~ " he has the cutest high pitched moans.

He also begs you to use your vibrating toys on his cock :( <3

Speaking of begging... he is always, always begging. Pawing at your skirt to get your attention, eyes pleading for you to sneak off with your favorite loser so you can squeeze in a quickie before class.

Poor nerdy Armin just wants you to fuck him 'till his glasses slip right off, 'till his cock hurts, 'till you wring him dry of all his cum — is that too much to ask for?

#♥️ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン #🔞#mdni #smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin x reader smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x fem reader #armin x f reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader

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r0-boat · 9 months

Text

Wriothesley horny brain rot

Nsfw genshin impact headcannons

I'm going to be horny and do crimes just to have the sexy wolf officer to put me in those shiny handcuffs of his~

Cw: dubcon, Con-noncon, power play, improper use of handcuffs, degrading.

Wriothesley x gn! reader

Wriothesley is a closet pervert; he has lots of perverted thoughts about you that he'll never act or speak up about unless he's really horny. He calls you the perverted slut/whore even though he's possibly just as bad.

When the two of you are making out, your tongue dancing with his, his bulge grinding against you, you whimper his against his mouth, wanting to say something.

"hm? What are you on about?"

"My hand cuffs? You want them around your wrists? Tch, yeah you would like that wouldn't you?...fucking slut." He growls with a smirk on his face.

Some of his more darker thoughts you probably will never hear from him unless he's horny and he needs to use you; Wriothesley would never want actually to hurt you. He takes your safety very seriously. He makes sure that you understand that you can stop at any time, and if anything makes you uncomfortable, to tell him. That being said, he thinks about abusing his power over you, his status as a policeman as well as his raw strength to take what he wants from you. Use his mouth to silence your moans unless your leg up pounds deeper inside of you till you no longer have the strength to stand. Break that cute little mind of yours till you're nothing but a mindless cumdump. He'll whisper into your ear that it's useless to fight back and to take it. Of course, he's not really proud of having these darker thoughts, but he can't help how hard it makes him feel whenever his mind starts to drift to an image of his hand around your throat and those pretty eyes of yours filled with tears from coming on his cock

Listen, the job of upholding Fontaine's Justice is very stressful, and he needs a nice little body to take that frustration out onto. So when he says "hands against the wall," he'd rather you obey him. If you want to be bratty, you can be bratty, but you'd only make it more difficult for yourself, not that he minds anyway.

Wriothesley takes his job very seriously. The door to his office is almost always locked because he has a pretty thing like you in his lap or underneath his desk warming his cock with your walls or throat. At the same time, he does paperwork for hours, occasionally giving you a little taste of his fat cock by rolling his hips and grinding up against you, his hand softly petting your head and caressing your cheek. Be his good a little cock warmer and don't move from that spot, and he'll reward you by you bending over his desk and fucking you till he spills all over your ass and back.

He does not know why but he prefers coming all over you than anything else he gets hard just thinking about you sitting there with your mouth open as he squirts his load all over your face.

With that voice of his going into a husky tone while he calls you a good girl/boy as he asks you to come over to his hand patting his lap, who wouldn't fold immediately.

#smut #wriothesley #genshin impact #fontaine #genshin x reader #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines

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saturnsorbits · 3 months

Text

Limitless

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 1k.

Summary: All you want is for Gojo to turn limitless off, even if just for a moment.

A/N: This is my first time writing Gojo and it was kinda fun, I'm ngl.

'Turn it off!’ You whine, eyes wide, lips already pulling out of their forced frown. In your hand a paper ball is hidden, it's yellowed edges sticking out from between your fingers as you coil back your arm and prepare to throw.

You'd only come into the classroom to see if he had planned next semesters syllabus (he hasn't), but he has a way to bring out the inner child in everyone.

Reclining in his chair, Gojo lifts one of his ankles to sit atop his knee. His limbs are long, stretching out impossibly as he tips back and balances the chair on it's back legs. He folds his arms behind his head and grins. 'And why would I do that?'

You tilt your head and attempt to growl. 'Turn it off.'

'Nope.' He pops the 'P' in his mouth like a piece of bubblegum.

'Satoru.'

He licks his lips, bringing a fresh blush to the skin there. 'Mmhmm?

'Turn it off...' You pout, crushing the paper projectile in your hand. '… Please?'

Even underneath the blindfold you can tell he's rolling his eyes. His eyebrows shift, rising up on his forehead. 'You're just going to throw it at me.'

Letting your hand drop, you toss the paper ball in the air and catch it. 'But what if I don't, huh? What then?'

Another roll of his eyes.

'Oh, come on. I didn't take you for such a chicken.'

A devilish smirk takes your lip, one Gojo's not too sure he likes, but before he has time to bother to come up with some witty, off-the-cuff retort you're... Clucking, at him.

'Bawk... Bawk, bawk, bawk.'

He laughs. The noise bubbles up his throat and trickles over his lips, floating through the air like a ribbon of smoke that threatens to sink into your lungs with each inhale. Your silliness makes something twist in his stomach. It's something he hadn't thought could be elicited by someone else, not since he'd called one of those shabby old dorm rooms his own. 'Seriously -.'

'Bawk!'

Gojo rocks back on his chair. 'You know...' He hooks a thumb under his blindfold and lifts, exposing one frozen eye. 'I could just turn it back on as soon as you throw it.'

You shrug. 'So turn it back on when I throw it then.' Looking at him has always been hard. You'd compare it to looking up at a Greek statue, if you didn't know it would inflate his ego impossibly. Still, the metaphor fits. There's a beauty about him, that's hard to deny, but there's also an... Emptiness. A bone-deep chill of stone sadness, a prison – one you're not sure he's all too thrilled about being trapped in.

He tips forward, slamming the front legs of the chair on the floor. Throwing out his arms, he barks a laugh. 'Fuck it. Go on. Hit me...'

The silence that follows makes him nervous, despite the Six Eyes telling him you've yet to raise your hands to throw your projectile. He waits, something he's never been good at, with a breath locked in the back of his throat. He'll have time to thwart whatever you have planned. He's more than sure of that.

It takes a particularly skilled sorcerer to be able to gradually, undetectably, channel cursed energy into an inanimate object, but it's hardly difficult for you. The energy tickles as it leaves you, bringing goose-flesh to the surface of your arms.

Gojo knows what you're doing. He's not stupid. He could detect the slither of energy dripping down your arm if he were fifty more miles away.

But, you know that too: Don't you?

His brow creases, mind whirring as he tries to fathom what hair-brained scheme you were coming up with. Letting his head loll back on his shoulders, he snorts a laugh. God, he really did fucking love it when you were up to no good.

Readying your arm, you slip your left foot forward in what could be considered a throwing stance. You wind back, let your weight sit in your back foot and then, you toss the ball of paper.

Gojo bites the inside of his cheek. As soon as the paper leaves your hand, he's reaching to catch it. He keeps his posture deliberately relaxed, knees parted, legs spread, spine curved into the cushion of the chair. So what if he wants to look cool. There's no rule saying he can't want to impress one of his fellow teachers: he's checked. The paper hits his palm as planned, his hand closing around it like a claw. He's about to laugh, to toss his head back and deliver a witty retort about your throwing skills, but he's not given the chance.

'Turn it off, Satoru.'

You're so close he can feel the breath you use to say his name on the rim of his ear. There's a pressure on his shoulders, your hands curled around him as you settle more firmly in his lap.

Or you would, if he would just turn that damn...

Gojo turns off limitless.

He's bonier than you'd expected. His thin limbs covered with a healthy, but scant layer of muscle that twitches when it finally bares your weight. So, too are his shoulders. The bulk at his back provides a cushion, while you thumb brushes clean over the jut of his collarbone.

You press closer, rolling your hips up and into his pelvic bone. Already you can feel the soft swell of his cock as it twitches, roused by the heat of your cunt.

He drops the paper, choosing instead to take hold of your waist. His hands flatten, palms flat as they slide down, down, down and cup your ass. Kneading at the flesh, he takes hold of you like he owns you, delivering a healthy slap to your left cheek as a wide grin takes his lips.

'It's off.' He cocks an eyebrow, licking over powdered sugar lips. You raise your eyebrows and wriggle your hips to check, making sure to show him just how wet the few drags of your cunt across his rapidly hardening cock has made you.

The muscle in his jaw tenses. He can smell you from here – your desperation - as it drips from you and soaks your underwear. If he plays his cards right, which he always does, he'd bet he'll be able to get a taste of you in the next ten minutes.

He smirks 'So, what now?'

-> Masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo satrou x reader #jjk x reader #saturnsorbits #saturnscribbles

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bruh-changbin · 4 months

Text

love and leather

pairing: bad boy changbin! x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: use of handcuffs, piv, exhibitionism, fingering (f receiving), some smoochin', alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, an icky man being kinda icky, i think that's all

word count: 3.4K

a/n: before y’all say anything i knowwww this is short but y'all i'm busy and fuck in my last semester of uni and i kinda need to prioritize that a bit more 😭 buuuuut on the flip side i am slowly but surely making progress on some longer fun things so keep your eyes peeled 🫶 this fic is basically a love letter to bad boy eyeliner bin *sigh* when will he return from war..... also lowkey a continuation of under the bleachers but also not really.... no real plot just smutty bc i've been super horknee lately lawl enjoy

————

seo changbin likes a lot of things.

he likes eyeliner and smoking cigarettes and hard sex. he likes going fast on his motorcycle and he likes his tattered leather jacket. he likes getting piercings with silver jewelry and he likes pretending that the taste of tequila doesn’t affect him.

but above all, he likes you.

he likes your pretty teeth and the curve of your neck. he likes the leather platform boots you bought to try to impress him. he likes the smell of your shampoo that’s now permanently interwoven into the fabric of his pillow.

he likes it when you cry when you cum and when you dig your teeth into his shoulder as he fucks you. he likes the way your speech becomes slurred after he’s given you countless mind-blowing orgasms.

he likes to be in control. but not in a weird, lowkey misogynistic way. more in a ‘i’m gonna fuck you so hard and act cold so we both feel good and then kiss away your tears because i love you more than anything else’ kind of way, you know? that’s why handcuffs are such a staple in your relationship.

you remember the first time he used those cold, metal cuffs on you.

it was after a halloween party and changbin was dressed up as, you guessed it, a police officer. the party was fun at first but soon grew to be quite boring. when changbin started to get a little too handsy was when you decided to call it a night. the cab ride back to your apartment was excruciatingly long and when you arrived you unlocked your door with trembling, sweaty hands.

no words needed to be exchanged for you to know to get onto your mattress on your stomach, hands behind your back where changbin cuffed them in place with a satisfying metallic click!

his movements were painstakingly slow, removing and discarding your bottoms and costume at a torturous pace to tease you (for what you have no idea - your costume wasn’t even that revealing). you could feel the tip of his nose tracing the skin in between your shoulder blades before he fucked you from behind, his blunt nails digging into your hips and he gripped you like he was never gonna let go. all you could do was cry and drool into your bedding as your boyfriend brought you to orgasm so many times your legs felt like tv static.

every time you tried to move, tried to find solace and stability by gripping the duvet underneath you, you were reminded of the cuffs that were binding your wrists together. changbin would chuckle every time he heard them clink and jingle, knowing he had complete and utter control over you. if anything it added fuel to his fire, resulting in him thrusting his cock into you in such a way that made it feel as if he was so deep inside of you that the two of you would forever be connected.

when he finally relented and unlocked you, your wrists were bruised and throbbing - it felt amazing.

the stinging of your wrists coupled with the pulsing of your abused cunt had you passing out on changbin’s broad chest in minutes and falling into one of the deepest sleeps you had ever experienced.

but of course, come morning time, he treated you as if you were royalty and kissed the marks that his handcuffs left on you with so much delicacy you thought you were going to turn into a puddle.

unbeknownst to the outside world, seo changbin has a soft side; which you discovered the first time he brought you into his room and had forgotten to hide his munchlax plushie beforehand. watching him scramble to hide it under his bed made the situation 10 times worse, and all he could do was scratch the back of his neck sheepishly as you attempted to stifle your laugh.

once the two of you became, you know, official, he let this side of him shine through more often.

at times he treats you as if you’re made of porcelain, as if you’ll crack and break at even the slightest touches - hence the way he traces the back of your hand with his thumb when you’re holding hands, his strokes akin to that of a feather.

you’ve lost track of the amount of times he’s almost burnt your kitchen down while attempting to make you breakfast after making love to you for hours on end the night before. it always ends the same, with changbin holding a plate of toast so burnt it's turned into bedrock and scrambled eggs you could bounce off the wall because of how rubbery they are. the result is always changbin dragging you to your favourite cafe for brunch in defeat, claiming that ‘it’s the thought that counts, y/n’.

but only you have the privilege of seeing him like this. these small, tender moments reserved only for the two of you in private, away from the curious eyes of onlookers in public.

on the days where both of you are lucky enough to not have to pull yourself out of bed early for the sake of attending a lecture or getting work done, you get to revel in the warmth provided by each other’s sleeping bodies. if you wake before changbin, you’re greeted with a view of his broad shoulders, his skin dotted with small imperfections and the bumps of his individual vertebrae visible. small, soft snores can be heard escaping his parted lips. if changbin wakes before you do… he never does.

sometimes you’re able to spend the whole entire day together without having to tend to other duties. these days usually entail slow, lazy starts to the day followed by changbin dragging you to the gym to watch him do lat pulldowns and cable rows followed by a shared shower where you help massage shampoo into his scalp. or, it could involve the two of you screaming at the tv as you battle over the top spot in mario kart 8 - changbin mains bowser, of course, whereas you opt to play as king boo. it takes almost all of your strength to avoid whipping your remote at the wall when he absolutely clobbers you during grumble volcano.

“don’t be upset y/n,” he coos without fail, “i’ll make it up to you later tonight!”

and he always does.

in public, he’s brooding, mysterious, sexy. it’s rare to see him without a cocky smirk painted across his face, his puffed lips quirked upwards as if to say ‘i’m better than you’ to anyone who crosses his path. and it’s true, he is.

he’s also the type to get jealous very easily.

case in point:

it’s friday night, and the two of you are perusing the city streets looking for some fun. earlier in the day, jisung had informed you that a small group of friends was planning on paying a visit to a well loved bar to get sloshed later that night. with nothing better to do, you and changbin accepted the invitation.

at first it was fun, with everyone reconnecting and catching eachother up on the current drama in their lives. but after an hour or two the vibe changed and the atmosphere became almost… cliquey. everyone had chosen their respective person or group for the night, choosing to only converse within their little bubble and never straying from it. this resulted in you and changbin fleeing the scene, opting to enjoy yourselves elsewhere where you can get lost in the music and each other… and alcohol.

soon after you’re at the front of a line for some club you’ve never been to with changbin’s arm wrapped around your waist as the bouncer checks your i.d. you’re let in with a nonchalant wave of a hand, and changbin follows shortly after.

once inside you make your way up the stairs to where the crowd is, choosing to forgo coat check and instead tossing your jackets on top of a pile that has formed on one of the few tables lining the walls near the entrance. then, you make a beeline to the bar where you order yourself a vodka cran and changbin a heineken.

with alcohol in hand you shove your way to the middle of the dance floor, getting lost in the club music while bumping and grinding on your boyfriend who’s posted up behind you. you’re not sure how much time you spend on the dancefloor with warm cheeks and limbs that have gone fuzzy, but it feels as if time itself has come to a momentary halt, allowing you to enjoy yourself in this moment while the world continues on outside without you.

so, when changbin taps your shoulder and motions to the bar to wordlessly say ‘i’m going to get more drinks’ you only nod and continue to dance on your own while you wait for his return.

this decision proves to be fatal however, for only moments after changbin’s departure you feel a clammy hand wrap around your bicep. you whip around only to find yourself face to face with some random man wearing a nike tracksuit ogling at you like you’re the last piece of his favourite candy at the candy store. gross.

“sorry, are you trying to get past me?”

“nah i’m trying to get with you, ma,” he practically yells into your ear in order to be heard over the music.

“oh! no thanks, my boyfriend’s at the bar getting drinks,” you say and attempt to shuffle away, an action that proves to be harder than you thought due to the mass of people surrounding you.

much to your dismay, the man persists, “boyfriend? why’d he leave you here all alone?”

“... to get us drinks.”

“well, if i was your man i’d never leave you alone, princess.”

princess? gross. only changbin gets to call you that… when he’s fucking you.

“is everything okay, y/n?” you feel an arm nudge yours and turn around to see changbin, your knight in shining armour, who’s come to save you from this god awkward conversation. in each hold he hands a drink, one for you and one for himself, and you fear what he may do with them in the next few moments.

“yea, all good, this guy was just being… weird,”

the skepticism that was previously evident on changbin’s face quickly morphs into annoyance (and jealousy at the prospect of someone other than himself making moves on you). without speaking he shoves the recently acquired drinks into your hands - making you scramble to stop yourself from dropping them and creating a sticky, syrupy mess all over the dance floor - before moving to size up the ‘bro’ that was just hitting on you with his chest puffed and chin held high.

not wanting to get into any sort of trouble tonight, you practically throw yourself in front of the freight train that is your boyfriend.

“no! it’s fine, changbin, let’s just forget him and have a good time, ‘kay?” you attempt to reason with him to no avail. all changbin does is shift his gaze between you and the guy who was making moves on you several times before wordlessly grasping your arm and pulling you towards the exit; you’re forced to abandon the dripping drinks in your hands on the edge of the bar (not before you manage to spill about half of one all over your lower arm).

soon you’re out of the crowded space, and are making your way towards the exit of the building and the city streets that are surely still teeming with nightlife.

“bin-”

“we’re going home,” he asserts, “i don’t want anyone talking to you like that.”

all you can do is allow yourself to be dragged behind your boyfriend like a ragdoll, his grip on your wrist so tight your fingertips start to lose their sensation. you know that any words of dissatisfaction you voice will be falling on deaf ears, so you opt to keep quiet and let changbin take the lead.

the bite of the cold night air of the winter jolts you awake once you step outside. a dull ring settles in your ears as the loud club music dissipates and changbin drags you further and further away from the establishment, almost dislocating your shoulder when he suddenly yanks you down a small, secluded alleyway.

“bin i’m fine, really,” you attest, your eyes never leaving the troubled face of your boyfriend, who pulls a pack of marlboros and a lighter out of his pocket. you watch as he places a cigarette between his lips before lighting it, using his hand to shelter the flame from the wind. in that moment you become envious of a measly little cigarette, for you so desperately wish that it was you and your mouth that changbin was putting his lips on and inhaling deeply, sucking you in like you’re his lifeline.

a haze of smoke soon surrounds you as changbin takes several drags from his dart, his eyes dark and refusing to meet yours. the scent burns your nostrils and you have to fight back the urge to cough; smoking only appeals to you when you’re drunk, and the alcohol you consumed earlier in the night has mostly exited your system.

with a sigh that manifests in a grey cloud changbin tosses his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, squashing the spark with the heel of his boot before catching your eye. his leather jacket rustles as he raises his hands to cup your face, the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“you’re mine, and nobody else’s,” his gaze is so piercing it feels as if he’s going to burn a hole through you, “right?”

you nod enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down as you whisper a quiet ‘right’ through squished cheeks and puckered lips - lips that are then being pressed against your boyfriends.

changbin tastes like the nicotine he just inhaled and smells like the cologne he saturated himself with earlier this evening, and you find yourself getting drunk all over again on something other than alcohol this time - him.

with your back pressed up against a brick wall you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of your lover’s mouth on yours, enraptured by the way changbin moves his lips in tandem with your own. the warmth radiating from the palms of his hands that have yet to leave your face makes your cheeks flush, and you tangle your fingers in the wavy strands of his hair that he’s choosing to let grow out, much to your delight.

the skin of your cheek stings when it’s exposed to the cold as changbin retracts his hand from your face, the tips of his fingers tracing the skin of your neck and sternum before reaching the waistband of your bottoms. his curious hand only hovers there for a moment before slipping underneath, not allowing a mere piece of fabric to be an obstacle in the way of your pleasure. a feeble moan escapes you when changbin gropes your cunt over your panties, the fabric already sticky and wet with your arousal.

“here, bin?” you question while scanning your surroundings, making sure there isn't anyone spying on the two of you being exhibitionists, “are you sure this is a good idea?’

“the best one i’ve ever had,” as he speaks his lips graze your neck, his breath hot and heavy before he starts to nip and suck at the supple skin; your pulse skyrockets and you clamp your thighs shut, ultimately trapping changbin’s hand in between them.

he manages to pry your legs apart just enough in order to move his hand, sliding your panties to the side and running two deft fingers through the folds of your dripping, needy pussy. it’s funny in the sense that changbin’s actions are so simple yet they already have you whining in pleasure, head rolling forward as you hide yourself in the crook of his neck.

“shhh baby, try to keep it down,” he coos, yet continues on nonetheless - easy for him to say, he’s not the one taking your fingers in an alleyway where a bunch of drunk people are parading by only metres away.

changbin continues to play with your cunt nonchalantly, much to your chagrin. every now and then he lets the tip of his middle finger dip into your dripping hole, causing you to go weak in the knees as the calloused heel of his palm kisses and bumps your aching clit.

“binnie,” you heave out rather embarrassingly, “i need it.”

“my girl needs my fingers in her pretty pussy, huh?” he teases, you nod pathetically with glassy eyes.

and at long last changbin finally relents and slips his middle and ring fingers fully inside of you, your cunt immediately clenching around his digits. the way he drags his fingers in and out of you so slowly before fucking them back into you feels so euphoric that you can’t help the goofy, drunken smile that makes its way onto your face as you drool onto the shoulder of his leather jacket.

with his broad shoulders shielding you from the outside world, changbin begins to curl and scissor his fingers inside of your warm, wet walls, making you moan and plead against his neck.

“god binnie you’re so good, feels so fucking good,” you cry through cracked lips while blinking away the eyeliner that stings your shiny, tearfilled eyes.

changbin then uses his thumb to massage your clit while his fingers continue to reach deep inside of you, making your lower abdomen twist and churn and your heart go thump thump thump from behind your chest. your fingers only tighten their grip on changbin’s jacket as you subtly rock your hips against his hand in an attempt to bring your orgasm on sooner.

you find yourself tuning out the sounds of traffic and people and nightlife to instead hone in on the beating of changbin’s heart that you can hear beating in his chest, your moans that only continue to increase in pitch, the rustle of bin’s jacket as he fingers you.

“so close honey, can you cum for me?” changbin groans into your ear in response to your pussy clenching around his fingers, a telltale sign that you’re on the brink of finishing all over his hand. at this point your back is aching from being pressed against brick for so long and you have a headache from how intensely you’ve been furrowing your brows, but the fire you feel in your aching pelvis makes it all worth it.

it only takes changbin several more thrusts before you’re creaming all over his fingers, whining his name is a nasally, needy tone as you all but collapse against his built frame as your orgasm explodes inside of you like fireworks. after a few moments you begin to come down, immediately noticing how dry your open mouth is and how sore your fingers are from gripping changbin’s jacket with everything you got.

when you pull away from changbin to stand up straight, a string of spit from your mouth to his jacket follows you - you wipe it away and pray he didn’t notice. it takes you a second to fully regain your balance and when you do, changbin finally lets go of your hips only to move his soiled fingers to his mouth where he sucks them clean of your essence. then he places his mouth on yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he swallows you down his throat.

words needn’t be exchanged for you to know what comes next, you simply follow changbins lead as he drags you all the way home and makes a mess of you on the sheets of his bed.

#stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin fanfiction #seo changbin blurbs #seo changbin imagines

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kittyball23 · 6 months

Text

Visitor (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: A month after his imprisonment, Veneer is paid a visit from someone he didn’t think he’d ever see again

__________________________________________

“Aw, no…”

Veneer moaned to himself, slumping down on his cot and facepalming in dismay. He was so not in the mood for this. He never was. And today it was hitting especially hard. Maybe because it had been exactly a month since his incarceration. Maybe because his attempt to speak to his sister had resulted in the throbbing pain that plagued his left cheek. Or maybe because of the haranguing speech that he knew awaited him once he left his cell.

He peeked a glance at the guard awaiting him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as if to say “Well? Are you coming or not? You may have all day, but not everybody else does!” They were usually stoic, poker-faced, and unsympathetic towards inmates’ desires. Rightly so. Much of the prisoners were delinquents who, if shown even an ounce of freedom, would take it to the extreme. His own sister had learned the hard way when her request to have the ankle chain removed from her leg was surprisingly granted. The teen was quick to make a run for it, but even quicker to have been thwarted by the security. Veneer hadn't really seen Velvet around since, but from what he heard, she was taken into solitary confinement.

That was why he had made it his mission to be on his very best behavior. He'd speak when spoken to, eat the entire tray of slop that they called “food,” and hit the hay as soon as lights out was called. He never looked for fights or started any, and mostly kept to himself. So maybe, just maaaybe, if he asked really nicely, he could get out of this.

“Say, you know what? I'm not really sure if I can do this. You think maybe we could pick some other time?” Veneer grinned, hoping he looked and sounded polite.

But the guard was unmoved. "NO.”

“But… I'm really not feeling well!” It was a little true. Veneer's stomach was churning at the thought of leaving his cell for what was intended for him. In a desperate attempt, he clasped his hands together, stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and made his eyes big. “Pretty pleeeease?”

The guard had an unreadable expression for a moment, before he raised his walkie talkie up to his mouth to speak. “Increase the prison sentence for inmate number 8231978.”

Veneer dropped and act and gasped. “What? No! Okay, alright, I'll come!”

The guard humphed, unlocking the cell door so the teen could exit. With cuffs secured to his hands and an ankle chain to his left leg, the guard guided Veneer down the hallway.

The former Pop-star suppressed a groan and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. This was one of the parts he hated about this. The ‘Walk of Shame.’ The glares he'd receive. The jeers sent his way. Veneer wished he could burrow himself in the ground if it meant he didn't have to see the dirty looks being cast at him. And if looks could kill… Veneer shuddered to think that he'd probably be dead many times over.

Among other treacherous felonies, it seemed Mount Rageons truly despised frauds. Veneer supposed he understood why. It broke a golden value that was very challenging to win back - trust. He needn't look any further for an example of that, not only with what he and his sister had done, but also for his own sentiments towards her now. The resentment over Velvet’s manipulation… and the painful sorrow he felt in his heart at her stubbornness in refusing to ever speak to him again.

He focused on the sound of the clinking chain rather than the colorful words of the other inmates, and felt only a fraction of relief once he was out of that hallway and brought into the next room over. Veneer stared at the familiar tile flooring beneath his feet. It was perhaps slightly more welcoming in sight than the cell units, for its brighter lights and fresher smell. But that's where the welcome wore out. So far, this room hadn't been a place of positivity for him.

Veneer lifted his head slightly to assess the scene today. The booths were not as busy as it could be, which he was silently grateful for. The less folks to see him, the better. Inmates, all donning the same shabby orange jumpsuit he had on, were seated at them and already engaged in their own conversations with the recipients on the other end of the glass that separated them. He heard snippets of the chatting as he passed by.

“Six more months in the brig, can you believe it? Six months! I'll be old and wrinkled by then - “

“ - and you can't even tell the difference between the chicken and the broccoli sometimes. Ugh, it's awful! How can that even be allowed? That should be a crime!”

“Friends? In prison? Pfft, come on, dude! This isn't gradeschool - “

Veneer attempted to swallow down the lump in his throat, and thought about who his visitor would be this time around. Maybe it was a Mount Rageon, reminding him of how they used to be a fan of his music until he turned out to be a phony, while he sat, quietly mumbling an “I'm sorry” that fell deaf upon their ears. Or, they could whisper about how they still liked him, and believed that the whole Troll-talent thing was an elaborate hoax to spice up the drama. Veneer hated that scenario more than the first, and he would get frustrated in explaining that his jail-time was deserved. Or maybe still, it could be his parents, there to chew him out and express their disappointment in him and his sister. The first time they'd come, Veneer had easily taken the verbal beating, but Velvet only had her anger spiked. He shuddered remembering the way she'd spewed a string of obscenities so foul, even a sailor would be put to shame.

Veneer didn’t dare look up to see who it was at the booth when the guard told him to be seated. He just picked up the phone, and tried to sound somewhat alive as he mumbled into it.

“Hello?”

“It isn't as hip as your old pad, but at least it's something, huh?”

Veneer gasped, recognizing the serene voice at once, and whipped his head up. “Floyd?”

Sure enough, it was the teal Troll speaking into the phone’s receiver. When Floyd offered a gentle smile, Veneer couldn’t help grinning back. Floyd had that effect on folks, it seemed, one of shining positivity even in the darkest times. But that grin disappeared when he caught sight of the Troll’s hair, a rich sweep of magenta… save for the significant white streaks that ran through it. Ones that had been caused by Veneer’s own doing. The guilt bit at him, and the teen suddenly didn’t feel comfort in his unexpected presence. “Floyd, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I came to see you,” he answered simply.

“Why?” Veneer asked, flailing his arms in a baffled manner. “If I were you, I’d be the last person I’d wanna see!” It was only when the guard standing at the far end of the room had shot him a warning look that Veneer realized his outburst had been too loud, and he toned it down.

“That’s not true, Veneer,” Floyd said, and then he smirked. “I’d say your sister wins in that category, wouldn’t you?”

Veneer had to chuckle at that. “Yeah, you are so not wrong there.”

Floyd laughed a little, too, and then spoke again. “But even then, I’m still gonna try to talk to her at some point, too.”

“Good luck with that,” the former Pop-star scoffed. “Anytime I’ve tried to talk to her, it just ends like this.” He turned his face to the side a little so Floyd could see the ugly purplish bruise that was his left cheek.

The Troll winced. “Ouch.”

“Ouch is right,” Veneer whimpered, gently touching the injury in hopes that perhaps it didn’t throb as much. Nope. Still did. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated groan, unable to contain it in him anymore. “So much for my sister not treating me like garbage. This has literally been the worst month of my life! Vel’s never gonna talk to me again. This uniform stinks! And you can only chop so many rocks before it starts to get to your head…” He huffed and heaved a sigh. “You’re SO lucky you don’t ever have to go through something like this. You’ve probably never done one bad thing in your life!”

Veneer expected him to agree right away, but became curious at Floyd’s silence, and the shamed look accompanying it. “Don’t be so sure.”

The teen cocked his head. “Wha?”

The Troll nodded. “I did something twenty years ago that I regret to this very day.”

“Geez,” Veneer said, considering the amount of time. He was hardly twenty years of age himself! “What happened?”

“I abandoned my baby brother. I promised I’d come back, but I never did…” Floyd’s voice got quieter as he continued to explain. “Turned out he wasn’t as well off as I thought he’d be. Our Grandma died, and there wasn’t anybody else to take care of him.”

Veneer winced. “Oof. Sounds rough.”

“Believe me, he let me know,” Floyd confirmed. “He was pretty upset. But then do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“He forgave me. Sure, it’s gonna take some time to heal the hurt of the past, but we know we can do it. And I'm confident that you and Velvet can do it, too.”

But Veneer disagreed. “How can you say that?” he blurted. “You’ve seen Vel. You’ll have better luck talking to a brick wall! It’s hopeless!”

Floyd paused for a moment, considering his next words. “You know, I felt pretty hopeless inside that diamond. You seemed pretty in love with all that fame and money, and whatever other ‘bling-a-ding’ you had…”

“Don’t remind me,” the teen whimpered, embarrassed for the selfish behavior he’d exhibited.

“And yet, you listened to me… didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” he replied warily.

“Then I trust Velvet can with you.”

“But you don’t understand!” Veneer cried. “Vel and I aren’t the same! Well… not entirely,” he amended, recalling how he and she hadn't been so different when it came to their desires for fame and fortune. “Just because I listened doesn’t mean Velvet will. That part of her that would listen has been long gone.”

Floyd cocked his head. “What part?” he pressed.

“Oh, you know,” Veneer went on, “the part that liked to make up bad dances, and didn’t care if we sang off key, as long as we were having fun.”

“Ohh,” The Troll said, nodding in understanding. “But you never know. That part of her could still exist.”

Veneer gave a dry laugh. “Yeah right.”

“I’m serious,” Floyd said. “She’s still there. You just gotta help her find it again.”

The teen eyed the Troll. “You really, truly think that’s possible?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Let’s hope not,” Veneer said, feeling a shudder go down his spine as he remembered the way the Troll had gone transparent and nearly succumbed to death. But then he thought about what the magenta Troll said. Velvet being that sister she once was? It would be wonderful. “I guess she's been a diva for so long, I never thought it'd be possible for her to change…”

“It is,” Floyd assured with a smile. “It really is.”

Suddenly, a ping resounded, and he looked down at the bracelet on his wrist and gasped. “Oh! I promised my brothers I’d be only fifteen minutes. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have even let me come. They’re outside waiting for me. I’m sorry.”

Veneer nodded. “It’s all right, I understand. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Thanks. It was nice talking to you,” Floyd said sincerely. “Ooo, and make sure you check the mail! The letter I sent should have arrived today.”

Veneer nodded again. “Oh! Okay, I will. And it was nice talking to you, too!”

Floyd smiled, and was about to head off, when Veneer stopped him. “Wait! I, um… do you have a quick second? I've been working on something… I was kinda hoping you might wanna hear it?”

As Floyd glanced at him expectantly, Veneer cleared his throat, suddenly second-guessing himself. What if he sounded awful? What if Floyd laughed at him? Regardless, he’d already stopped him, so he had to follow through. The song flowed out of him softly at first, his voice cracking a couple of times and making him inwardly cringe. But soon his voice became stronger, the notes rich and beautiful. When Veneer was done, he was met not only by applause from Floyd, but from the other inmates and recipients at the booths as well! He blushed as Floyd offered his compliments.

“That was great!”

“And I swear it was all me,” Veneer hurriedly explained. “No talent-stealing here!”

Floyd chuckled. “That’s good. You really do have some real talent.”

Veneer shrugged. “Guess I just had to work hard at it.”

Floyd gave him a thumbs up. “Right.” Then he turned to go. “I’ll see you around, Veneer.”

The Troll waved, and he waved back. A sense of uplifting filled Veneer. He was in slightly better spirits than he had anticipated himself to feel, and was glad for it. On his way back to the cell, he questioned the guard on any mail delivery for him, and true to Floyd’s word, one letter, sealed with the BroZone lightning emblem, was awaiting him.

Veneer didn’t waste a minute as he tore open the envelope and began to read:

Veneer,

It’s amazing how time passes by so quickly. I can hardly believe it’s already been a month’s time since the incident, of which I don’t believe you need me to mention for you to know what I’m talking about. But, I AM going to mention it anyhow, as it was an experience which has produced great effect. I also see this as an opportunity to debunk or confirm any assumptions you may have regarding me on the matter.

Spending two months encased within a small, and rather uncomfortable diamond imprisonment was, to put it bluntly, an awful experience for me to have undergone, as I’m sure you can imagine. I can’t lie there, or try to sugarcoat anything. Matters were not helped when you were under the impression that this was a necessary thing to do. But shortcuts can sometimes be more ‘cut’ than ‘short,’ as came to be you and your sister’s case. But this is not to say that cuts can’t heal. With time and learning they can, and from there, things are bound to get better.

In the same manner that everyone deserves to be treated kindly, everyone also deserves a second chance. I can’t say that the first impression you left of me was a good one, but have an inkling that my sentiments will change in the near future. Know that you are forgiven for your actions, so long as you understand where your mistakes were, and so long as you have learned from it. I know I can’t make you heed to any advice that I or anybody else may give you, though I strongly recommend taking it, for your own benefit.

I have been on my way to recovery from everything, and am living with my brothers. If you are interested, I can speak to the prison management team and see if we could get you work release at my older brother’s cantina. It’s on a beautiful little island that I think you will find quite becoming (plus, it has a karaoke stage!)

By this point, I would imagine that we would have already spoken to each other, and, should the conversation have gone the way I envisioned, I believe that we can likely look forward to speaking again.

Your friend,

Floyd

P.S. If you choose to respond to this letter, send it out attached with the postcard in the envelope. Trust me, it will get there :)

Veneer wondered what he meant by that last part, and soon understood when he pulled out the said postcard - with no return address or sender information. But, he shrugged it off. If Floyd had said it would get there, then surely it would get there! And so, Veneer got to work composing a return letter, finishing it with just a few seconds to spare before lights out. The letter looked something like this:

Floyd,

It was unexpected seeing you today. If I was in your place, I would have just moved on with my life and not looked back - especially at the guys who captured me. I want you to know that I am very, VERY sorry for what I did to you and regret it very much. You can take my word that I will never do something like that again to anybody. I was too afraid to say anything about it to my sister before, but now she knows where I stand on this. I hope you’re right and that she will come around one day…

I’m glad to hear that you are recovering and hope that you continue to regain your health. I think that work release idea sounds great! (Although, I’ve never been to an island before… do you mind telling me a little bit about what it’s like?)

I was afraid to talk to you at first, but I actually did like the turnout of it and, if you have any time to spare in the future, I really would like for us to talk again!

Sincerely,

Veneer

P.S. Gonna try and have the full version of that song ready by the time you come back :)

__________________________________________ A/N: I like the idea of Floyd and Veneer becoming friends after the whole ordeal

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #veneer trolls #velvet trolls #velvet and veneer #branch trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction #100+

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Text

Yautja x Fem.Reader

Edit: I see someone wants a part two, if ya'll get this to 200 notes by next Saturday, I'll totally do it. I'll give ya a little extra if you make it to any number higher than that, even by one. *genuinely intrigued about how this'll go* Edit 2: Here it is babes, Part 2, Part 3

I hear people are looking for this so, here. Also, this is my shitty attempt at a dark fic, because I wanna try one--even though it's faaaar from my regular style, I'm far from a darkfic writer, but I like challenges-- and it seems many people have been craving a dark fic of Yautja more than not, so I'll hopefully help y'all out (I wrote this when I was sleepy so idk how it was). *puts all smutty writing experience into this*

Want more from me? Ask or check out my Masterlist!

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Breed (Predator)

Warning(s): Probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted, noncon details, breeding, rough, unprotected, a creamy little pie, size difference, triggers (so do not read if they apply to you), this turned long asf.

You survive with a Predator who killed all of your friends...but it seems the Yautja have taken an interest in you and don't plan to let you leave...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You groan out, tossing your head to the side.

What makes you realize you aren't in your bed is a few things.

There's an echo.

It feels like you're laying on a hard table.

Your wrists are bound to your chest.

Your ankles are weighed down by something heavy, which after moving around your toes you realize are cuffs connected by a chain, where most of the weight came from.

And most importantly, you can't see, you noticed as your lashes fluttered against a cloth.

"Where am I?"

"Above earth," an amused, disembodied voice responds.

A familiar voice, one of your friends.

"Ester...? I thought you died..."

"What you didn't see didn't happen."

"Hey, can you take this stuff off me?" you grunted as moved to shift your arms to no avail.

"Why would I do that? I put you there."

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"You see. That whole thing was a setup, I was working with them this whole time."

"But why? They killed your friends! Our friends!"

She chuckled, "Oh, that's what you believed. I was just doing my job to survive. To find them the perfect specimen."

You grunted as you struggled and failed to loosen your restraints.

"You see, they've been for years, creating more advanced creatures to hunt. They've already tried to with another species, Xenomorphs--the ones that spit acid. But they wondered if they could try such a thing with humans..."

Your blood ran cold, "Please don't tell me..."

"They realized they could, they hunted for the perfect human, one who possessed certain genes that had a high percentage of handling a Yautja seed. And when one wanted to kill me after hunting all my allies a few years ago, I offered to do anything. Now I've found you."

"So-ugh--then what? They're just gonna let you go?"

"Well, my part of the deal is finished. There's no other use for me."

"Exactly, idiot," you muttered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thumping sound.

"Ah, here they come."

You moan in despair as you try to move, the cold metal biting against your ankles, "This is hopeless."

"Here's the human you left with, she's perfect, she's worthy of you due to her survival."

Yes, you remember.

Suddenly you found yourself helpless, the two...Xenomorphs you supposed, had terrorized your college class during your international trip to the Daintree Rainforest.

The other creature--the...Yautja had killed a few security guards and three of your friends. As you grew to understand this Predator, you realized it only killed something that seemed to be a challenge, everyone that was killed by it had a weapon at some point.

But you, you're a tough one. You survived, and the Yautja gave you weapons to aid it, you managed to kill a Xenomorph on your own.

You had enough education about tribal tradition to know when it smeared some of its excruciatingly burning blood on you, it found you worthy in a sense.

Or he, since as far as you know most creatures bred with the opposite sex.

"I can leave now, right? If you want I can tell you where I can be dropped off," Ester happily spoke up.

You heard a familiar sound slice through the air, his weapon.

"W-wait...what are you doing? I did what you--what you asked...No! No! No-!"

You heard a body thump and a strong smell of blood fill the air, you knew the smell with little effort after the last two days.

There was some shuffling, you guessed she was being dragged away to be dumped by another one of them.

Then the thumping footsteps started up again, getting closer. Until he stood next to your... examination table.

You tried to shift away, not being able to do much but hold yourself up and not fall halfway off the edge. Only for your arms to get tugged and move you back to the more comfortable position.

"Please...I can't--I can't provide you with anything."

You jumped as you felt a nail trail down your jaw before a scaly hand--that was still surprisingly smoother than you expected--gripped your chin, twisting your head left and right.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine.

A thumb brushed against the acid mark he gave you on your cheek.

The only sound you heard was a sharp grunt, in disapproval or satisfaction, you didn't know.

His thumb dragged across your lips before his hand went lower...

You stiffened when the wandering hand paused, before yelping at the sound of a blade moving through the air.

He slowly sliced through your long-sleeved shirt and bra, your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal graze your skin. If there was any more pressure, he would've sliced you open.

You let out a breathless sigh as the restricting bra released you. You hated bras sometimes.

You could feel him move and tried to shift away, only for him to catch you by your neck and slide you back into the position you were in.

With a quivering lip, you felt curious hands explore your breasts.

"Please, just let me go..."

You bit your lip at an experimental squeeze.

You couldn't seriously be reacting to this? Could you?

But when you felt something brush against your sensitive bud...

Your breathing skipped.

Another pause, before it was tested again.

Your hands tightened into fists.

Then without warning, he relentlessly rolled the hardened bud between his fingers.

With a whine, you tried to move away, only for his grip on your neck to tighten.

You tried to keep as much self-control as you could, but that changed a few minutes later when his hand moved, your stomach jumping as it came and went and stiffening as the hand stopped at the band of your pants.

"Please...don't..." you desperately pleaded.

There are a few seconds of dragging his thumb back and forth against your hip, as if deciding, but ultimately tearing it all off in one motion.

You squealed at suddenly being exposed, trying to clench your thighs together.

He denied you of this, effortlessly opening your thighs to expose for him to fully see.

You decided to be defiant as you felt him shift onto the table.

"This is--isn't going to work. Humans and Aliens aren't going to be able to--do this," you tried to move your legs, the heavy chain helping you none, "I'm not even remotely aroused--"

He interrupted you as you felt him lean closer to your wetness, feeling his breath hit the sensitive area.

The clicking sound he made almost sounded amused, before making you gasp as he rubbed a curious finger against you.

"Mm--stop--you--you can't--!"

Shuddering as a finger slid into you, you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Only for his grip to tighten a little more, at this point, he was definitely warning you.

You felt embarrassed by the light squelching sound you heard. At least you didn't have to see.

Then two more were added.

"I can't--that's too much!" you cried out.

But when his wrist brushed against your cilt, your body completely surrendered.

He realized how greatly that affected you and decided to continue learning.

With a shaky breath, you desperately tried to hold back. Tried to deny your body's pleasure with your mind.

You clenched your thighs together at an attempt to stop his hand, but all it seemed to do was piss him off and force your legs apart, his originally slow and curious pace becoming rougher.

You bit your lip hard, keeping in any sounds.

But in the end, your body betrayed you, and with a long whine and bucking hips, you released.

He pulled his hand away and for a moment you thought he was done for now.

Until you felt something rubbing against you, something you could tell already wouldn't fit.

"That's not gonna--!"

You whimpered as he effortlessly slid in with a gravelly groan, the stretch stung.

"It's not gunna--It's not gunna...Take it out...."

Your head thumped back onto the table.

Without a break in movement, he kept moving, the chain connecting your ankles lightly clinking.

You let out a little sob as you bit your lip, you didn't know if it was from the violation or the pleasure, possibly both.

Every time he thrust forward, you could feel the stretch.

"It's gunna...gunna..."

He slid his hand up your throat just enough to push down the lip your teeth dug into with an index finger.

He wanted to hear you.

But with defiance, you swallowed every sound you made.

Until the speed changed, the cold metal rubbing against your back from the table, a stark contrast to the heat you felt.

Finally, he started getting little sounds out of you, whimpers, pleads.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you empty, before easily moving the weighted chain that felt like a ton to you and flipping you over on your knees.

You winced as your face smacked into the table. Your arms still bound in front of you.

You groaned into the metal as he completely filled you again.

As he moved, you felt more force behind each thrust.

"I can't--It's too--too much-ah!"

He slammed harder, which made you try to cushion your face.

Your heard a few sharp grunts, yet not of effort, which didn't surprise you. You were probably a warm-up.

Your body gently quivered from the force.

And the chains loudly clinked in time with him.

"I--Mm--hah--Lemme..."

Combing his fingers into your hair, he tugged you back, landing seated in his lap.

He sat motionless for a few seconds, a throaty groan was let out.

You made one last attempt to wriggle away.

And you think that made him completely snap from annoyance.

And you knew this because when he moved again, it was like he'd decided to completely destroy you.

With roughness you never experienced before, a deepness you never felt, a speed you didn't know was possible, he pounded into you at least a few times before your skin even slapped against his again.

And it seemed he was satisfied, every sound you hid before was milked out until you couldn't even process where you were anymore.

All you could feel was him, the pleasure, that stretch, all you could hear was the squelching of your wetness.

Your mouth couldn't even close anymore, completely drunk off him.

Your thighs shook terribly, barely able to handle him.

And you wouldn't even be surprised if he still went easy on you.

You were close.

When he tightened his grip, cutting off your breathing that was it.

Your hips bucked wildly as you released for the second time, a long moan ripping out of you.

Clenching around him so deliciously made him follow after. Filling you to the brim, and dripping down his length.

You sighed, as you began to settle only to whimper when you realized...

He wasn't done yet.

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riririnnnn · 3 months

Text

As I mentioned in my post earlier:

His cuff (that thing around his neck) is near transparent which gives us a lot of room to ponder since we don't exactly know what this chain even represent.

Taking Hiori as an example, let's suppose the chain represents the burden that holds back someone's true ego.

His cuff being transparent gives us two things:

1. It might be plastic which doesn't really make any sense if I were to be honest.

2. It is glass which makes a lot of sense because how's glass? Hell yeah, my geniuses, glass is really fragile which completely fits into what he said:

Further, in that volume cover, he has pulled down his collar which puts a lot of spotlight into his blue rose tattoo, and we all know what that tattoo symbolises for Kaiser.

In case you don't remember: Kaiser got this tattoo as a reminder to himself to never fall back into his weak mentality because Blue Rose symbolises the achievement of impossible, and he saw it as an example to turn impossible to reality since Blue Rose, itself, is artificial and defies the natural order.

What is said above can be found with a quick Google search:

But what grabbed my most attention is this panel:

WHY?

If he only wanted to push the soccer industry to despair, then why he is adamant about winning the Champions league and the World Cup?????

Also, contrary to popular beliefs, I don't actually think Kaiser has a superiority complex because, look:

What Chris said could be considered as an exaggerated way to rile someone, but isn't this, indirectly, exactly what Kaiser says after the Manshine City match ended?

Kaiser said something along the lines of, "BM's main character is Noa and it's impossible for me to be the current number one, that's why I came to NEL to use Isagi as a way to increase my value." He even went as far as to say that he is a secondary character in BM because BM is Noa's team.

I don't think so that anyone with superior complex will admit such real facts.

Further, why did he got so angry when Chris said those things? Isn't someone bound to be angrier if the other one was to point out their obvious weak point? So, does this mean, Kaiser actually got an inferior complex?

I'm not a psychologist, so I'm not dwelling too much into it.

However, there is another thing I want to point out:

So, because of that spreadsheet/official art of a very damaged soccer ball beside Kaiser's foot, the Fandom widely believes that Kaiser was poor while growing up .

BUT!

Being poor as a backstory has already been used three times: Naruhaya Asahi, Noel Noa, and Lorenzo Don.

I understand that in any sector with a lot of money and/or fame, there are many people who come from a poor economic background, but this is fiction, baby. No author wants anything be repeated to the point it feels overused.

That's why, I highly believe that Kaiser was either bullied or mistreated by his seniors when he started playing soccer which explains that he practiced fucking hard that the soccer ball was damaged, and also his supposed hatred towards the soccer industry. It also explains his long, unkempt hair because he was too indulged in practice.

OR!

It goes a bit darker, so proceed with caution:

Soccer somehow destroyed his family's peace just like the brotherhood of Itoshi brothers.

I may write about others in another post, but in this post, I would like to think that the person who destroyed his family's peace was his own father. It could be that his father was a soccer player himself and due to some circumstances, he fell off the soccer industry which took a toll on his mental health, and he started physically abusing either Kaiser, his mom or both.

Why physical abuse? Because Kaiser is shown having an affinity to choking.

If we get our minds out of the gutter, then there have been instances when he choked himself because he was frustrated. Also, didn't he say that he stroked his rose tattoo as a good luck before matches and compared it to, "as if tightening a noose," or something.

That's why, I kinda think that, AT LEAST, someone has choked Kaiser as abuse/bullying.

I'll rant about the above thing in another post tomorrow or some time later because I don't want this post to be too long, and also because I'm hungry af.

I remember a vivid dream when Kaiser threatened me to join BM.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock theory #bllk theory #michael kaiser #雪 ranting

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month

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Hi Ro😌❤️

for the dirty A-Z ask：Bondage/ Outdoor/ Water for the beloved Bedrock and Blueprints Ari x reader😋😋

From this ask game, concerning this AU series where Ari is retired from Special Forces and ends up with his best friend of ten years.

Woah, boy, coming at me with these... You and this wet boy is a whole thing, huh? Okay. Makes sense. 😏

B - Bondage

Honestly, I don't think Ari would have ever been comfortable being tied up while still serving in the army, and all of those short-term girls he would 'date' before you would get dropped like a hot potato if they'd mention cuffs or anything like that.

You're different though--not just because he's known you so long, not just because he trusts you, but because it evolves--since you both kinda discover this play together.

It starts innocently enough when he's trying to get you to come one more time before you fall asleep for the night. He grabs your wrists. You're weakly trying to fight him off, overstimulated and whining. So he simply holds you until he's satisfied...that you're satisfied.

Then one time later, you push down on his spread arms while riding him, ordering him not to move. Of course, he tries to ignore your command, playfully, so you shove at him a lot harder, moving faster and almost growling at him to behave.

Well.

That sticks with him.

Is dom!brat a thing? Ari's that.

He is 100% in control of it (the sex, I mean), but he doesn't mind you spreading your authoritative wings in bed to use him how you please. He will tease you about it, a bit, and he can always get out of whatever is 'restraining' him. He just loves to watch you go a little power drunk on the thrill.

O - Outdoor

Look. Your house has a backyard and a she-shed. There's space to lay out some blankets and have a picnic or stargaze...

...which is exactly what y'all were doing when things got hot and heavy.

So far and for the most part, it's only comfortable enough to be naked/intimate like that when it's also dark or extremely secluded.

The seclusion is also for the noise. Because that whole time in the backyard under the stars, Ari had to clamp his hand over your mouth and keep his lips sealed against your shoulder.

Ya know, so you will be invited back to your neighbor's pool next season.

W - Water

[I am about to simply do the most self-indulgent thing and put something in this series because I want it and I want to and idgaf. You can't stop me.]

ALL. THE. SHOWER. SEX.

He's into it because I want him to be. Every so often, it's not full-blown or whatever, but he enjoys the closeness in that space. He loves to kiss you. He loves to press you against the wall and capture your squeals at the cold tile in his mouth. He loves to watch a long, hard day swirl down that drain while his hands hold your arms around him as you hug him from behind. He loves to let you wash him, and he weirdly loved to learn how to wash you.

This is especially important because as a patented Dude with a capital D, Ari rushed through most of his cleaning routine always. Like, I'm talking, a bar of soup for everything. He was proud to describe to you that it was somehow made to be used for everything??? and that's just stupid??? Ari, why??? You ain't conditioning shit if it foams, bruh.

Anyway...

If and when you two ever get to go on a nice vacation where there could be a bathtub big enough for you both, or even a hot tub, then he'd be into it there, too. Ari's a big guy though, so that's gotta be one hell of a bath.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: ugh, I have to write all of these actual scenarios, don't I. That wasn't a question, either. I just know it.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #ask game #dirty asks #18+ content #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson series

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