#kinktober by j
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Creep
Kinktober Day 14: Aidas x Reader [Stalking]
Summary: Anon Req: CC men, do adias lurking on reader in cat form and when she attempts to shoo it away in the rain, he appears in front of her (they're at her apartment door) and brushes muddied water from himself "is that really how you treat a guest? Not to mention royalty?"
I kinda veered from the og request but I tried to get most of it down.
Warnings: Smut, oral (F receiving)
Word Count: 3,520
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The streets are cold but you look warm.
All bundled up in your winter gear; the fur-lined hood of your coat pulled high over your head. The thick, knit cap settled upon your head and the scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, the bottom of your face huddled inside of it to keep the wind from brushing across your face. The only skin exposed are those piercing eyes of yours, accentuated by the rose of your cheeks.
It might very well be his presence that makes the alley grow cold. It is, but Aidas likes to think that the darkened, damp passageways hold an other-worldly sort of chill. It doesn’t feel like a cold he’s known before, it is one he isn’t used to in the existence of this plane.
He can see the way it overcomes your body. Aidas wishes the iciness in the air felt like more of a caress, a brush of snowflakes across pink cheeks instead of frozen claws dragging down your spine, but he doesn’t know how to wield his power for anything other than destruction.
He could crumble the brick walls in the alley but he finds himself wanting to break yours down one by one. He knows you’re hiding something, the way your pretty eyes keep flickering up and down the alley. It’s dark, and if he were a stupider male he’d think it was an anxious movement, checking your surroundings to make sure you’re not being trailed by the drunkards crowding the streets. But he prides himself in being intelligent. And handsome, but that’s besides the point.
You don’t notice the glowing iciness of his feline eyes, so pale they nearly glow in the darkness. His white fur reflects off of the moon, but you don’t notice that either, from the way that he’s tucked himself beneath the cold metal of the dumpster. It’s leaking something in the corner that he’s stayed far away from…after he’d stepped in the sickly green puddle.
Gross.
Aidas doesn’t know why you’re here, what has summoned him to the very spot you’re occupying, when it doesn’t seem like you yourself know how you’ve ended up here. The suspicious looks you’re throwing around are enough for him to creep from his spot, pad after you with that preternatural silence he only feels in his feline form.
You don’t notice. Not right away. He’s good at staying hidden, even more so at blending in, though his arrogance doesn’t allow him to keep concealed for long. As you walk down the long streets, he finds himself wanting those jewel-like eyes on him, not on the passerby and the avenue ahead.
He licks his jowls before mewling. It’s an innocent sort of noise, a beg nearly, and it tastes sour in his mouth. He’s never begged for anything in his life. People beg him, to allow them softer sentences for their crimes, the abhorrent things they’ve done to be sent to his plane of Hel. And not once has he ever given in to any of those pleas.
Your steps falter, halting. The ground is cold, slick with snow that has melted against it. Aidas can feel it in his paws, the ice pricking through his pads. He doesn’t care, it doesn’t affect him, as the cold is wafting from his presence.
Your breath puffs white clouds into the chill as you turn. He sits, straightens his spine and lifts his chin. It might look like he’s preening to you, but to him, he’s showing off, showing you his confidence, the little white kitten sitting so harmless before you.
Aidas really does feel like preening when you turn those gorgeous eyes on him. You’re suspicious, brows furrowed as you scan the alley, before resting on him. He watches the frown melt from your face into one of awe, and you’re approaching him with a newfound sort of confidence, no longer is the caution draping your shoulders down.
“Hello there, little kitty,” you coo, crouching before him. You stick your hand out for the white animal to sniff, so it doesn’t think that you’re anything dangerous. “What are you doing out here all alone? It’s pretty cold.”
As you say it, Aidas watches the plumes of breath puff from your lips. He could shift right now, tell you that it’s his presence that’s making the streets this cold, but just as you think he doesn’t trust you yet, you also wouldn’t trust him.
He needs to wait you out, play into your little game.
So, Aidas mews in response, creeping forward to nudge his head against your hand. You’re awfully warm, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of your coat have kept the warmth underneath your skin. The way you turn your hand to scratch behind his ears feels good, and his back arches in pleasure.
Before he can realize what’s going on, you’re lifting him into your arms, a soft smile on your face. He blinks up at you with crystalline blue eyes, head tilting as if in confusion, before the cat rests in the crook of your arms, seemingly wanting to come home with you as badly as you want him to.
“Yeah, you want to come home with me, little guy? Alright, let’s go.”
Little guy? Aidas would hiss, but he doesn’t like to lean into his cat-like tendencies when he’s in this form. Despite the fact that he finds himself purring into your chest. He stops when he realizes.
The warmth of your body is comforting against the chill of the outdoors. So comfortable that he shuts his eyes and revels in it, allowing you to take him back to your apartment.
He doesn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until you’re placing him down to shuck off your winter gear. He mewls tiredly, already missing the loss of your warmth. He blinks, looking around, tail flicking somewhat impatiently when you don’t acknowledge his mew, instead heading into your kitchen to wash up and fetch a damp towel to clean his paw off with.
Your touch is gentle against his paw. He wonders if he shifted right here, right now, if you would let him bend you over your couch and claim you like the primal part of him wants to. But Aidas doesn’t change, he doesn’t want to scare you away.
Not yet.
You carry him into your room, placing him on the bed where he curls into a tiny ball. You coo at him and it should annoy him, how you’re coddling him, a demon for Solas’ sake, but he enjoys it, because when he switches forms, you won’t be looking at him like that.
He doesn’t follow you into the bathroom like he wants, and you come back changed into a comfortable shirt but no pants. It makes his back curl, and he squeezes his eyes shut, willing the heat creeping towards his cock away.
“Okay, kitty. Time for cuddles,” you coo, scooping him from his spot as you shuffle under the covers. You place the white cat across your stomach, and he scooches up, resting his head between the valley of your breasts.
He purrs loudly when you begin to stroke his white fur. He’s soft and loving, and the noises he’s making helps take your mind off of the weariness you’ve been feeling lately, when you go out and feel eyes following your every move.
The kitten’s rhythmic purring and its warmth against your chest sends you into a peaceful slumber.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Iciness wakes you.
You blink, the room still filled with darkness, letting you know that it is not yet morning and still have time to sleep.
It’s freezing in the room, but the fireplace is still raging with flames in the corner of the room. Your nose is cold, and the covers are tucked all the way up to your chin, but you’re still shivering.
The heat at your back doesn’t help much either.
And something doesn’t feel right. Where there was a warmth across your chest of a cat you’d fallen asleep with, it’s no longer there.
“Aidas,” you whisper, rolling over as you seek him out. He could be pressed against your back instead, so you’re careful as you do so, but your tiredness leaves your body in a rush as you’re met with those bright blue eyes of the kitten you found, only in the form of a fae now.
You screech, trying to shove yourself away from him. If you scream loud enough perhaps your neighbor will call the Aux. Maybe they’ll even make it to your place before the male in your bed kills you.
Aidas has no intentions of doing that, though. He rolls, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists and his hips planted firmly against yours. Your gasp gets stuck in your throat at the feeling of his full cock heavy against your cunt. The only thing stopping him from entering you is the thin fabric of your panties, but as you struggle against his iron grip, the feeling of the crown on his cock pressing into you has you nearly biting through your lip.
“Who are you? Where did you come from?” You whimper, forcing your body still. The air in the room had plummeted, but his body is hot against yours. The pale blue of his eyes nearly glows in the dark, and whispers of his bright blond hair tickle your cheeks as he leans in further.
“Is that really how you treat a guest?” He says, and the liquidity of his voice sounds just like that of a purring cat. His chest rumbles with it, sending shockwaves down your body, collecting between the apex of your legs. The muscles of your thighs jump and Aidas sinks further, a rolling tease that forces the whimper from your mouth. “Not to mention royalty?”
“It is when I don’t know who the fuck you are or how you’ve gotten in my room,” you retort harshly, but the feeling of his taut body against yours attempts to negate the threat lining your voice. He’s much too handsome to be here for anything less than sex. Will he take what he wants from you and more? Why does the thought of him taking exactly what he wants from you causing your cunt to tremble?
The stranger on top of you stares you down, and while it should make you uneasy, it makes you flush. Those piercing eyes remind you of something so familiar, kind of like the kitten you’d rescued from the frozen streets.
Your kitten. Where the fuck is your kitten? Anger lances your body and you buck, struggling anew, but your strength seems to be no match for the male bolting you to the bed with his own body.
“Where is my cat?”
The corner of his mouth quirks at the corner and the beauty of it stuns you for a moment, body falling lax. “You mean you don’t recognize your little kitten?” he all but purrs, leaning down to lap at the sensitive spot of your throat much like how the kitten had lapped with scratchy tongue there. It feels much more sensual now, and your chin tucks away as your eyes flutter shut, giving the stranger more room to work. “I am him, kit.”
“How—” you struggle for breath, “How is that possible?”
Kitten licking across your jaw, Aidas continues. “The first rule about Lunathion, kitten, is not to allow anything inside of your home. Especially, a Prince of Hel.”
Your body fights a shiver creeping up your spine. A Prince of Hel? This male on top of you is one of the Princes of Hel?
All of the warmth leaves your body, replaced by an ice cold dread only he can conjure. But still, your fingers curl into the skin of his tight hips, keeping him pressed firmly into you.
You’ve heard of the Princes of Hel, all seven of them, but you hadn’t known how often they had wandered this plane of existence, nor that they were capable of shifting into animals, let alone such a pristine, innocent looking one much like this one can.
“Which one are you?” You breathe. It’s shallow, as if you might be scared taking too deeply of an inhale of his exquisite scent might drive the last of your self-control from your body. The hot press of his cock at your slick entrance is a jarring reminder that he may be here to hurt you, but there will be pleasure involved first.
Your question seems to strike him, though, confusion crossing his features for a flicker of a second before they’re turning feline again, smile pulling high at the corners and his blue eyes gleaming. You’re not afraid of him, not as much as you should be for a female in front of a Prince. He can smell the sweetness in the air, of your arousal cut with the sharper scent of your fear, and it is utterly delectable.
“Aidas,” he offers with a roll of his hips. “Prince of the Chasm.”
“Aidas,” you echo, but it’s more of a moan. Your fingers glide across his smooth skin of their own violation, tracing the hills and grooves of muscle packing his lithe body.
He growls at your name on his lips. Never has it sounded so perfect, so powerful, than it is now, a plea for more on your tongue.
Aidas’ mouth is hot and claiming as he crawls down your body, removing the shirt you’re wearing as he goes. The fabric reveals the curve of your breasts, which he takes in hand, brushing over your pert nipple with a flick of his tongue while he massages the other, drawing a sharp inhale from you. He’s never tasted anything so euphoric, so addicting. Lust roils through his body as if he’s been hit over the head with it, his light touches turning more forceful, teeth nipping, pulling at the bud of your nipple as he leans back, taking it with him.
You cry out, hips lifting off of the bed to follow him. Your fingers find his silky locks, fisting them as he manhandles you, does so as he pleases with your pliant body. It feels like roles are being reversed, like he’s going to be worshiping you instead of how you should be worshiping the Prince of Hel trailing down your body.
His fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs with an ease that threatens to snap your thighs shut. Before you can, he’s shoving his shoulders between them, draping your legs over his shoulders as he settles between your legs, taking in the sight of your perfectly pink cunt, fluttering for him. The wetness glimmers in the moonlight streaming through the window, and he licks his lips at the sight.
Goosebumps break out across your skin, the iciness of the room attempting to cool your smoldering body. You want to whimper, cry out for him to put his mouth on your cunt because you can feel each exhale of his breath against your keening cunt yet he doesn’t make a move to devour you.
“Say my name again,” he commands, and you don’t hesitate.
“Aidas!” You cry as he dives forward, slick tongue slipping between your folds.
It’s as if he knows exactly what to do with it, drawing a stripe up with the tip of his nose leading the exploration, the flat of his tongue following. He eats you out like a man starved, swirling his tongue around your clit in a way that makes you see stars. When he breaches your cunt with the tip of his tongue, fucking it in and out of you, a noise you’ve never made before escapes between your lips, and it spurs Aidas on.
“Please,” you beg, your nails scratching against his scalp as you grab his hair for something to hold onto. Your thighs squeeze but it doesn’t deter him, burying his face so deeply into your cunt that he can hardly breathe. It makes your back bow from the bed, legs wrapping around his neck to keep him pinned as you grind your cunt against his face, chasing the heat coiling your gut. “Aidas, please. Mph, I need to cum!”
He doesn’t pull away from your clit to respond, instead, he suckles harsher, thumbs digging into the meat of your thighs for a delicious bite. The temperature in the room plummets until it’s hard to breathe, your chest splintering with ice as you struggle. Not even the heat eclipsing your body can help, until he pulls back on his power and you’re cumming with a shattering cry.
Waves of pleasure roll from you. Aidas allows you to grind against his face as he works you through your orgasm, until you’re nothing but a panting, whimpering mess because even though you’ve come down from the best high of your life, Aidas isn’t done yet.
He’s pressing up onto his knees, stroking the head of his cock through your orgasm that drips down your thighs. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe or prepare, shoving his cock into you with a guttural moan until his hips meet yours.
You hiss at the stretch, hands planted at his hips as you writhe, struggling against the press of his girth. He feels incredible, stretching you wide for his taking, but you’d been unprepared, the surprise and stealth of his probing a shock to your system.
His hand finds your throat, curling around it with intention, though there isn’t a forceful pressure behind it. Aidas is showing you what he could do, if he so pleases, and the feeling of his large hand wrapped around your throat and his cock teasing your cunt in long strokes has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, a desperate mewl escaping your lips.
“That’s it, kitten. Take my cock like the good girl you are.”
Your response is so pretty, the noises you make and the wildness lacing them. The way your nails claw into his skin, raking red marks down his chest and back, the ice of his power leaking into the hot wounds.
Hooking his hands beneath your knees and lifting them to your chest, he pistons his hips deeper, harder as he finds that spot that has you going wild.
You curse, grappling for him, trying to hook your hands around his neck. “Kiss me, Aidas, please.”
His hips falter. He hadn’t been expecting you to want to kiss a demon. He’s afraid that if he gives into the urge to lie down and fucking claim your lips, the last part of him he hasn’t allowed himself to take, he’s afraid he might never leave, might never leave this little apartment that in no way compares to his palace in Hel, might never leave the warmth of your bed, of your cunt.
“I—” Fuck it. He just needs a taste, swooping down to capture your mouth against his.
The feeling explodes in his head, drifting throughout his body like lightning. The feeling of you, your mouth against his, sharing your breaths with him, sharing your body with him. He can feel it in every push of his hips, how accepting you are of him, of the demon who’d lied to you, who’d been trailing you, pretending to be the kitten he doesn’t often take the form of.
He feels your cunt constricting around his cock, holding on tight as you cum. You must be feeling what he is because the softness of your lips and the taste of your moans has him slipping over the edge as well, his orgasm wracking his body almost violently.
“Well, that—” you wince as he slips from you, mourning the loss already. Warmth trickles down your legs but Aidas doesn’t care, doesn’t want you clean from his cum because he’s pulling you close and tucking you into his side. “I’ve never had sex with a demon before.”
Aidas’ raucous laughter startles you. His fingers tighten around you and you’re breaking out into a grin, admiring the beauty of the male beside you.
“You could have referred to me as a Prince of Hel or even a cat, kitten, but you chose a demon?” He presses a kiss into your dewey brow, enjoying the way you nuzzle your hot cheeks into his chest.
You shrug, bashful. “It seemed like the right thing to say, especially with that tortuous tongue of yours.”
“Not my cock?” He questions playfully, and you hadn’t expected a Prince of Hel to have this sort of humor, to be this…well, soft. His hand trails down between your thighs, running through the mess of cum. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your breasts push against his skin. You’re not quite ready for round two, but you want it more than anything.
“Your cock,” you whisper lowly, batting your eyelashes. The gleam of your eyes has his throat working around a swallow, and you like that. A lot. “Is so much better than that.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl
#aidas#aidas crescent city#aidas smut#crescent city#azsazz#azsazz kinktober 2023#sarah j maas#aidas x reader
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In Your Boss’s Office | Peter Parker Imagine
Summary: When your boyfriend comes to take you home after a late night at the office, he sees an opportunity to send your boss mad.
Warnings: smut, P in V, semi public sex, office sex, cum swallowing, oral (female receiving), dirty talk
Word Count: 2.1K
A/N: Okay so I have been trying to get this one finished for a while. This was supposed to be day 5 of Kinktober but we all know that went off the rails. I was gonna turn it into kink til Christmas but that isn’t gonna work out either. So this is me saying that the kink list is getting thrown out the window completely, but I will still write some of the stories as prompts and short imagines as there were a couple I was looking forward to but no idea when they’ll go up. Anyway, this was one of the ideas I was really looking forward to writing so I hope you enjoy!
You had been the only one in the office for at least an hour and a half, despite your boss leaving nearly 3 hours prior. It was dark outside, you were tired, you were missing your man but you knew that if you didn’t get this list for Jameson completed now, you’d all be really behind tomorrow.
There was a sudden ding as the elevator stopped on your floor. Given the time you fully expected it to be the janitor, coming by to give things a clean and empty the waste paper baskets, but you were surprised at the sight of your boyfriend walking towards your desk.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” he asked, “I think the real question is what are you still doing here?”
You had met Peter around 6 months ago now, when you had first taken on the job as J. Jonah Jameson’s assistant after the last one quit on him. He had expected you to also follow suit, he wasn’t exactly known for being the nicest boss after all; but you gave as good as you got and the head of the Daily Bugle admired that. Peter was a freelance photographer, stopping by every now and again with a new batch of photos of Spider-man that always made your boss both froth at the mouth and get literal dollar signs in his eyes.
“What time is it?” you asked, but you already knew.
“It’s time to log off.” he softly chastised and encouraged you.
“Uhh, Pete, I really need to get this done.”
“Fine. You have until I finish putting these photos on his lordship’s desk.” He said, pulling out a manilla envelope full of new pictures of Spiderman.
“Peter, you can’t go in there.” you tried to interject as he began to reach for the door handle to the office.
“Just watch me.” He said, turning the knob, pushing the door open and going in.
“Peter.” you chastise as you get up to follow him and make sure he wasn’t going to touch anything he shouldn’t.
When you got in the room he was already sat behind the desk, lounging back in the large leather swivel chair, swaying side to side. “You know, I see why he likes this office so much now.” he says as his eyes glance over pieces of paper on the desk.
“Come on.” you try to encourage him, “We shouldn’t be in here.”
“Make me.” he challenges with a smirk on his face. You really don’t want to find out what that smirk means, you just want to finish your list of tasks and go home but he does look good sitting behind the desk. His eyes are watching your legs closely as you hesitate in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other in tiny motions. He leans forward placing both of his hands on the desk. “Close the door.” He instructs and you do. “Now come over here.” Your brain knows it’s a bad idea but you do.
He moves the chair back slightly as his hand reaches out to guide you round the back of the desk with him. When you are close enough he turns you and backs you into the desk. You hesitate at first but with further encouragement by his hands and the wicked look in his eye, you sit yourself on top of the desk. He hums slightly as his hands rest on your knees, pulling them open, then using his grip on them, pulls the wheelie chair closer to the desk, leaving you nowhere else to go.
“Peter, what are you doing?” You ask with a shaky breath as he starts to run his hands up your thighs and under your skirt.
“You work too hard for little reward.” He says as his fingertips reach to hook beneath the waistband of your underwear.
“Peter!” You interject, trying to push him away but he holds you still.
“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He teases. “He’ll never know.”
“Yes he will.” You try to hold strong, but his fingers are drawing lazy circles on your thighs that are relaxing you and wearing you down.
“But isn’t that more fun. He won’t know it was us, he’ll just come in tomorrow and he’ll know something is off but he won’t be able to put his finger on it.”
“Pete… Pete.” You try to say but your resolve is fading with his touch and when he tries again to pull your underwear down, you don’t stop him.
“Just relax okay. I’ve got you.” He said as he pulled you closer to the end of the desk. “So pretty.” He cooed as he looked up at you.
He pushed your legs up, your feet resting on the arms of the large swivel chair he sat in, as he leant forward, his tongue teasing at your clit, making you squirm. His hands held tighter to your hips, holding you in place as he began to lick through your folds.
“For someone who was putting up a lot of protest, you seem to be awfully wet for me.” He teased with raised eyebrows as his fingers moved to circle at your entrance before slipping inside, his fingers working you open.
“Uhhh, Peter.” You began to pant, as the movement of his fingers pulls tiny whimpers from between your lips.
You watch as his other hand begins to fumble with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending another wave of arousal through you. He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, palming his length through his boxers.
Normally Peter would spend ages going down on you, making you cum and soaking his fingers with your slick before he even thought about fucking you, but you didn’t have time. Although it was late and no one else was in the office, the janitor could come up to this floor and walk in at any minute and Peter knew it was taking a lot for you to go through with this without pushing his luck.
“Come here baby.” He said, pulling his length out of his boxers and sliding the chair back slightly.
You happily moved to straddle his thighs. You slowly lowered yourself down on his length. You were so close and he was so deep in this position. It didn’t leave much room for movement, just subtle gyrating, your clit rubbing against the small patch of exposed skin between his jeans and shirt.
It made you so sensitive, your head nuzzling into his neck as you quietly whined and moaned.
“You naughty little thing. See I knew this was what you needed.” Peter said as he slowly thrusted his hips up inside you. It wasn’t his preferred pace but he knew you loved it. To be close to him. To have his cock rubbing against the most sensitive parts of you. To feel every little twitch you made around him. It was intimate. “You gonna come for me?” He asked. He could read your body like a book and knew from just the pitch of your moans alone you were close. “Come on baby. Cum for me.” He encouraged as he guided your hips up and down on his length harder and harder. “Cum for me baby and then I can turn you around and fuck you right over his desk. How does that sound?” You could only moan in response. His words always brought you closer to the edge. “Yeah?” He cooed. “Does that sound good for you? Come on baby. Come on… there it is.” He said as you began to shudder around him, your body collapsing against his chest. “That’s my girl.” He said, but he didn’t give you a moment of rest.
Just as promised he picked you up as he stood, before dropping your feet to the floor. He turned you around, his hand pushing firmly against your back, getting you to bend over your boss’s desk in front of you.
Your face and chest were pushed onto the desk top as Peter took your arms, folding them behind your back and holding them firmly in place with a single hand as he lined himself back up to your entrance with his other.
You let out a loud gasp as he slammed his hips into your ass as he bottomed out inside you. “Oh baby, you look so pretty like this.” He said as he began to snap his hips faster.
You almost completely forgot where you were as the feeling of his cock spearing you open sent shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Your gasps and moans grew louder and louder as you felt yet another climax quickly building inside you. “Fuck, FUCK! Oh my god! Peter.”
“Mmm baby, I love it when you say my name like that.” You could feel his thrusts growing sloppier. You knew he was close, only holding himself together so he could make you cum one last time.
He shifted you both back slightly between thrusts so he could reach his hand around between your legs and started rubbing quick circles around your clit, bringing you to your climax faster. He watched as you screwed up your eyes, your mouth hanging open in a silent oh for just a moment before your orgasm hit and you began to shudder around him once more, your voice finally ringing out into the air of the office.
“That’s it baby.” He said as he removed his hand from between your legs.
You felt him pump one, two, three more times before the removed himself from you, pulling you up off the desk with one arm and encouraging you to turn around and get on your knees in front of him, his other hand pumping his length.
You knelt before him, opening your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out waiting for him to cum. You closed your eyes in anticipation just in case as you listened to him grunt. Then you felt the tip of his cock on the flat of your tongue and his cum burst into your mouth. You shaped your tongue around his length trying to contain as much of it in your mouth as you could.
As you felt him still you opened your eyes to look up at him, giving his length and slit a lick for good measure and he twitched away from you at the sensitivity, You didn’t look away from his eyes as you swallowed his salty cum with a closed lipped smile.
“Fuck, your gorgeous.” He said as he took your face in his hands and bent over to kiss your lips. “Now come on. Pick your panties up off the floor, it’s time to go home.”
You didn’t argue with him. You both put yourselves back together before you left the office. You quickly closed down your computer and you left hand in hand.
When you went back to work the next day your boss’s face was a picture. You watched him closely when he came in. Stepping into his office, you hot on his heels with his morning coffee and a notepad ready to take down his orders for the morning, you saw him pause. His brow furrowed as he looked around the room.
“Everything okay sir?” You dutifully asked.
“Huh?! Yeah!” He suddenly barked not wanting to seem vulnerable. “Yeah.” He looked down at the papers on his desk confused again until he saw the Manila envelope. “When did these get here?” He asked as he sat himself down in his chair and began opening up the photos and scanning through them.
“Uh I think Mr Parker dropped them off last night.” You feigned innocence.
“Really?” Your boss pondered. He suddenly looked up at you as if finally remembering who you were and where he was. “Right. I want Anderson up here stat. I need him in here brainstorming headlines with me to get these out on the front page first thing!” He shouted at you, his hand slamming the photos on the desk as he leaned back and kicked his feet up.
“Yes, sir.”
“And make sure you get finance to send Parker over his money.” He commanded as he picked the photos back up and started looking through them again.
“Is that everything sir?”
“What!? Yes! Of course! Now get out of here!” He barked and you quickly hurried from the room.
As you sat back at your desk you smiled to yourself. Peter had been right, although he knew something was up, your boss didn’t have a clue what had really taken place in his office the night before.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#andrew!peter parker#peter parker imagine#spider-man#andrew!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#j jonah jameson#Peter Parker smut#late kinktober
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kinktober day one:
homelander x reader
using this prompt list by @the-purity-pen
prompt: dirty talk
word count: 561 (super short sorry!)
author's note: i’m gonna try to do kinktober !! i miss writing sm and it has been so long since i’ve had any form of inspiration !! this is a short lil blurb i’m sorry it’s not longer, i kinda proofread (i'm like half asleep rn but i wanna post this) (ok bye)
18+ only!! minors DNI - your media consumption is your responsibility!
“What would your little friends think, huh?” His tone of voice is mocking, demeaning. “If they saw you like this,” his eyes gaze up and down your body, which is pressed against the wall of your apartment. He has a hand wrapped around your throat as his eyes sweep over you. You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, not exactly expecting a visitor at 2 a.m.
No, not a visitor.
An intruder.
Sleep keeps your brain foggy, eyelids heavy as you look up at him. You don’t respond, continuing to just look at him.
He presses his body into you, hand moving up to your jaw so he can tilt it. His lips brush the shell of your ear, “You’re dripping for me.”
Your eyes flutter closed at his words, hating yourself as you think about how sweet his voice sounds. He was a casual addiction, like caffeine or sugar. You didn’t notice yourself falling for him until it was too late- until the crash came. When you found yourself stuck between your good friend, Hughie, and the man who wanted to kill him: John. When you realized that, inevitably, you would have to choose. You couldn’t have both- John wouldn’t allow it. Hell, you’re surprised he hasn’t found the old Nintendo DS that you use to communicate with Hughie (he gave it to you as a gift a while ago, thanks to his employee discount at the shop).
“What would they think,” Homelander continues, pausing to bite the shell of your ear in between his teeth and tugging gently, “if they saw me splitting you open on my cock? If they saw the way you push back against me when I bend you over? You practically fuck yourself on it.”
You moan softly at his words, “Please,” you whisper. You’re not sure why you’re saying it. Is it a plea, a prayer? To some higher power, to John, to yourself for being so fucking stupid?
“I want to break you and put you back together again, and I want to be inside of you the whole time that I do so.” John says lowly, breath against your neck. His hands begin to rub up and down your body, groping and and kneading as he goes.
“John, please,” your hands wrap around his biceps, holding on to him as if he’s an anchor. “I need you.”
“Need me to what?” he kisses your neck as he waits for your response.
“Whatever you want,” you pant, fingernails digging into him, “anything.”
His arms hook around your thighs and he lifts you up, “I wanna watch you fall apart on my cock, honey,” his voice is low and raspy, a few notches above a whisper.
Your mouth opens before you can stop it, “Yes, John, as many times as you want, please,” your arms wind around his shoulders.
His voice is a whisper this time, “I wanna hear you say it.”
There's a small part of you that is embarrassed at how fast you follow his instruction, "Ruin me," it comes out clearly, accompanied by the daring look in your eyes.
His eyes are locked with yours as he sees the many more words you're saying with just a look. He smiles, thumbs tenderly caressing your thighs as he continues to hold you, your legs wrapped around his waist.
"Whatever you want, honey."
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#homelander#homelander x reader#homelander smut#john gillman#john gillman x reader#lemon#smut#my writing#j writes#john gillman smut
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A Darling Distraction
Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only Oneshot
(Mood board by Selene Shelby @forgottenpeakywriter, this fic is especially for you, so I hope you enjoy! Thanks for the initial idea and support💕)
Summary: Robert's been married to you for a while and now in Los Alamos, after the last few years of hard work and a 'successful' Trinity Test, he desperately needs something he won't admit: his wife in pink satin lingerie and sexual stress relief.
Word Count: ~3,703
Warnings: Smut, unprotected and oral sex both ways, light daddy kink + breeding kink, some angst, mention of infidelity, period stereotypical gender roles, unspecified age gap (less than 10 years)
Disclaimer: Obviously NOT historically accurate to real life and is inspired by Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer in the film. It isn't supposed to be in total support and a complete reflection of the man's character, only my interpretation. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!
This is strictly a one shot story, no more will be added to it. If you want to read other Cillian!Oppenheimer fanfiction, check out my Masterlist
Tags: @happysparklingshadows (@forgottenpeakywriter wanted me to tag you), @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86
It had been less than 24 hours since the denotation of the gadget and Dr. Robert Oppenheimer's eyes had been engulfed in fire; the aftermath of a hot white flash as bright as a hundred suns blowing out his pupils, followed by a colorful mushrooming cloud that was somehow simultaneously beautiful and horrific. Between the hours before and after Trinity, he had thought of Jean and her influential poetry, and you of course, but now the bomb had become him and only that one vision filled his mind, haunting him.
All day he had been at the lab and offices, but mostly at the main mess hall celebrations that flowed with chatter and too many drinks shared amongst the military and scientists alike whom many believed had been witness to a great success, a miracle, but also the worst of humanity had just been born into creation. Oppenheimer had become what he supposed he had been destined to be all along: Prometheus, doomed to bring great power and advancement to humanity at a steep cost. He was the destroyer of worlds, but not technically yet, and that was the worst of it. The early morning test was exactly that; a trial, a preview of what was to manifest, and very soon would the world get to see such power he had helped birth. He desired peace, but the trick was he was only attaining that through warfare like never before. The stress was far from over and he was afraid to become a nervous wreck by the end of the decade with all these dark pervasive thoughts and doubts. Depression was nigh on the back of pressuring anxiety and there was no way anything would ever be the same again. He had changed, the world had changed, seamlessly overnight.
As he clumsily unlocked the front door to his home with slightly shaking fingers and stumbled inside, reaching up to remove his porkpie hat and hang it up on the coatrack, he called out your name hoarsely. After a beat of listening and there was no response, he sighed... Maybe you'd already gone to bed or were tucking in the children, whatever it was he didn't know and didn't care because he was too wrapped up in his own emotions. He felt ecstatic that all the hard work had come to fruition and they cemented history, but he was also at a paradoxical point of great accomplishment and great moral failure; the duality of man. But most importantly: it worked. Now what they would do with it was another matter he couldn't quit thinking about.
He reflexively twitched for a cigarette in his shirt pocket, but he was empty, so he walked to the bedroom single mindedly and fumbled for a box in the side table, yanking out the drawer and shifting through to pick up a pack of Chesterfield's.
"Darling?"
He jumped, spinning around with a huff and hand on his hip to see you standing in the shadows of the entryway and draped in a pink robe snug around your frame and he noticed your feet were bare as if you'd just been dressing.
"Y/N, I thought you were... Are the children in bed?"
"An hour ago, they were fussy and very insistent with missing Daddy, but once I read to them they finally settled down. You've been absent all day because of the test, what made you actually come home?"
He shook his head, finding relief and refuge in taking a long drag on the cigarette and blowing the smoke out, gesturing at you with the butt of it.
"You brought in the sheets like I told you to?"
"Of course, I knew."
"Good."
He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down heavily, rubbing his forehead and you noticed the tiredness he exuded for a man who usually was so attentive with higher energy levels, and how sunken in and sad his wide ocean eyes were. These past few years had taken a tremendous toll on his wellbeing more than ever... His jutting cheekbones and general gauntness were more pronounced with the unhealthy loss of weight and crinkles of wrinkles were all he truly kept gaining in eventual amounts; crow's feet, forehead lines, nasolabial folds, and etches under his eyes. His dark hair, kept meticulously cut short, was greying at the sides. Even his teeth, if inspected closely, were on a fast track to faintly showing signs of aging decay from all the smoking and drinking he did on a daily basis.
Robert was not the picture, nor rarely the temperament, of boyish youth you remembered from Berkeley.
Truthfully, you and him hadn't had proper sex in many months; it just wasn't very desirable or convenient between his never ending work that created distance between him and anyone who wasn't a scientist, the continuing socializing and parties with many other faces in town, and you personally spending days cleaning up and minding after little (often crying) children who did not have a clue of what their parents were doing out in the middle of the New Mexico desert surrounded by barbed wire fencing and uniformed men always patrolling. Life here was anything but boring, but the bedroom sure had become so. More often than not, Robert couldn't sleep soundly while you kept to your designated side of the bed and tried to ignore his tossing and turnings until eventually he doped himself up on sleeping pills to cope. He also hadn't been the same since the news of Jean Tatlock's passing and you highly suspected - no, knew - he had an affair during his trip to California once he had his security clearance approved. Of course it upset you he could be so idiotic and unfaithful, yet it wasn't shocking given his womanizing track record, but what made you more concerned was knowing how psychologically troubled Jean had been and if Robert thought he could offer her some consolation, he may have just made it worse and partly done her in. If he blamed himself for her death, you couldn't imagine carrying around that kind of guilt in addition to what he spent his time creating to end the war.
He stood now, restless, and began to pace an invisible groove into the flooring as he continually smoked and muttered to himself. You drifted away into the bathroom and shut the door, shrugging off your robe to the floor. You were completely nude underneath, coming off of a fresh bath and you had spritzed yourself with the best perfume you owned, hoping to surprise Robert, but something was clearly missing here.
Yes, and you know obviously what it is. It's his happiness, the spontaneousness that he has lost ever since he ran those calculations and went to Albert Einstein about a chain reaction igniting the atmosphere and blowing us all to bits. It was less than 0.1% chance, but it reminded him of the bigger issue... creating such a weapon with the power to destroy oneself was mighty weighty on any half decent man's conscience and even a rotten one's, for he too would be annihilated in the process if ever taken far enough. Everything these days was pure existential dread, no doubt about that, and no wonder Robert wasn't in the mood for love. His heart was being drained of it daily and you wanted to help, to fill him again even if just for once. It was difficult to watch him continually self-destruct and negatively affect those around him.
So you plucked up the ready matching pink folded satin lingerie he'd gifted you for the fifth wedding anniversary off the countertop and slipped into it, banking on the fact that it made you look sexually irresistible... And oh, it certainly did dial the appeal up to ten. You sauntered out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom where Robert was now seated on the bed, nose deep in a book and paperwork, clearly engrossed and a permanent frown was driven into his skin between his sculpted eyebrows.
"I have something for you, love," you announced softly as you leaned in the doorway, letting your body be on full display in such a loose, risqué little number.
"Hmm?" he murmured distractedly, haphazardly fluttering pages.
"Are you even reading any of that?" you asked flatly and he accidentally dropped it to the floor, hands still quivering and he tried to get up, wavering on his feet as you watched him in a strange state of both nerves cracking and drunkenness. You ached to make him better and by golly, tonight you would even if you had to throw yourself at him.
"Robert, don't you want to look at me? I have a surprise on..."
"I should pick this up and go to bed with a pill," he said to only himself, bending over and scooping the paperwork and book into his arms before standing unsteadily and he turned his back, carelessly dumping the materials onto the side table. You quickly strode up behind him and slid an arm around his waist, fingers drumming on his metal belt buckle splashed with a tinge of turquoise design.
He froze as you wound a bare leg around one of his and he reached behind his back, brushing your scantily clad silky bottom, fingers gliding over the fabric and making you moisten.
"The lingerie, you're wearing it," he stated and you couldn't quite tell if he was delighted by this or not.
"So I am, I know it's been a while since you gifted me with it, so tonight I thought I'd finally return the favor after the amount of stress we've been under, especially you."
"You-you're proposing I need... oh no. No, I don't know if I'm, uh, ready-no, I don't know if I-I can, I mean do-handle it-" he stuttered out and you fought a laugh. Oppie the great improviser, the genius, the man always in control of the proverbial cockpit was ironically clearly not thinking all that straight tonight and for once in his life, absolutely tongue-tied. You may not have much power as a housewife (that earned psychology degree had been so far deemed useless once you moved with him and had children) in this godforsaken place, but you had this way of melting your husband to molten lava that no one else was capable of. His mouth utterly agape, you ran your hands around the leather of the belt and snaked another leg around his, squeezing gently into his side as you put your lips close to his ear, murmuring.
"You know that we both need it, so just let me work my magic like a good old fashioned whore..."
He bristled, catching your hand still fondling his belt and pushing away lightly.
"I would never refer to you as that," he said, completely unamused and perhaps with a veil of disgust too that you thought seemed unnecessary.
"What am I, then, just the stoic scientific director's wife who will be at your side when you receive a Nobel for your work in stopping the world from global conflict with explosions and implosions?"
His sharp jaw clenched and in one swift motion, he abruptly fell over sideways onto the bed and you startled, leaning over and gripping at his shoulder, worried.
"Oh, Robert, are you sick? I was just being a bit sarcastic."
He closed his eyes, obviously in some sort of internal turmoil that didn't merit sharing fully.
"No, I just... We don't need to do this, not now, not when I'm having a pretty bad time. I'm fatigued, probably drunk, and I should talk to the General tomorrow about the schedule. I'll be wanting to fly to Washington soon; the President will be expecting a briefing and they need to determine the exact target and then once it's all over we'll need to settle somewhere else and..."
He began to murmur anxiously about all the engagements he was expecting (postwar and not) and you shook your head, pushing down on his chest.
"But don't you want a distraction, a temporary all consuming joy for one night?" you pressed and he finally looked up at you, really gazed at you, and a genuine buttery smile spread across his mouth.
"Come here, my love," he whispered while tugging at the lingerie panty bow unsuccessfully and you clamored onto the bed beside him. He paused, licking his lips, and then spoke too briskly.
"We'll get straight to it and once I finish, it should help me sleep naturally better than those prescriptions."
You sat up, shoving him playfully and scowling.
"That has to be the least sexist statement you've ever said to me in the bedroom. Don't you want a marathon, not a sprint? Enjoy me, Robert. That's what I'm really here for anyhow, your darling distraction."
He took this in, then rolled over on top of you, his hot alcohol and nicotine infused breath on your cheeks as he breathed heavily, and you made a cringing face.
"How many drinks have you had today? You smell of a bar and I'm thinking you should rinse your mouth out before you get the luxury of having me."
"You do, hm? I guess that's a command, Mrs. Oppenheimer," he smirked and sat up, shoving off to the bathroom and you went to go put on a record on the turntable in the living room. The classical music crackled through and you walked back to the bedroom, laying into a seductive position onto the bed, one leg propped up with a bent knee and your arm draped across the headboard.
When he came back, his eyes widened at the sight of you as though it was finally registering and he wet his lips again, unapologetically hungry. He moved to the bed, shrugging his suit jacket off to drop to the floor, taking off his black tie, and mindlessly undoing the buttons on his white shirt. That was quickly discarded as you waited for him to remove his socks and shoes, pretending to be impatient by switching position to cross your legs and checking your manicure.
"Hurry up, Oppie, I have a time limit here."
He shook his head disapprovingly, kicking the shoes under the bed and whipping off his belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk before wrestling out of his trousers and you stared at his boxer clad skinny frame, the cock not even engaged yet... Looks like he's making you do all the work again. A petulant sigh escaped when you rolled your eyes and he pointed a finger, chastising.
"Patience, my love. Hasn't Daddy taught you anything at this point?"
You bit your lip as he leaned over and his bare chest collided with yours... You pulled him into an antsy kiss, mouths crushing each other needily and he tasted of tobacco and toothpaste, a strange combination, but better than before. You felt the slight sheen of cold water he had splashed on his skin transferring to yours and you gripped his neck, fingers splaying across the back of his head.
His own hands went to fondle your covered breasts and you pulled away from his kiss for a moment.
"You are divinely doll like in this, I love such feminine expression," he murmured in a kind of rapture.
"Shame it has to be stripped of me," you whispered with raised eyebrows.
"It's only garments, what really counts is here..." He suddenly squeezed both your breasts and you let out a spurt of high pitched noise, allowing him to remove the top, shimming it off your body in one motion and tossing it over his shoulder where the strap caught on the bedpost.
He thumbed over one nipple and then transferred to the other, teasing you to rock hard nubs. He moved to your panty, slipping it down and off to expose you, and you kicked it to the end of the bed. Then, in turn, you yanked down his underwear and his cock sprung out into your ready grip. You began to pump on it and getting him to a more erect state, rising up. He groaned lightly and you pulled the oozing tip to your mouth, parting lips and flicking your tongue out to carefully lick a strip along the length before taking head, making him grow stiffer and wetter by the minute. Your mouth popped of his length, swallowing, and he gripped your waist as he focused hard on you over his throbbing member.
"What do you want, my love? Do you want me?" he whispered huskily and you shivered in anticipated arousal.
"Yes, darling, I want you... I need you, you own me and I own you."
"Sounds like a fair arrangement," he breathed before crushing into you and began to rub, purely animalistic, all over your smooth body. His head burrowed down into your freshly shaved pussy just like how you and him liked it clean, licking at your folds and massaging your lower abdomen in a desperate frenzy. You dug nails into his hair, curling, and bucked your hips to meet his appetite when he slowly slithered on top. You groaned as you took him, all of him, and let his penis expand and stretch out your core to the fullest extent, clenching instinctively around the shaft as he thrust repeatedly until you were sent easily right over the edge in freefall.
"Mmm, Robert!" you squealed in ecstasy and he muffled you, hand slapping down over your mouth and shushing insistently.
"Shh, don't need to wake the children now. God knows they'll find Mommy and Daddy intimately together one of these days and be scarred for life at the sight." He chuckled as you whined behind his palm and grooved further at a pace you both knew very well. After years of marriage and sensual exploration, he knew all your sweet spots and sensitivities, when was too much, and yet it was taking all his self control not to completely plow you apart right now. His skin smacked against yours as he ground into you, hands everywhere at once and he peppered wet kisses all along your jaw to nape.
When his warm cum finally jetted into you, flooding in your cervix fully, you were unable to constrain a loud moan and he growled primally, his whole small frame shuddered through his own climax as you gripped his back, using his boney spine as placeholders for your fingers as he rocked further at a steady pace, not going to come out right away.
More orgasms came fast and one after the other, especially as you rolled over and he took his place beneath and you rode his cock in a fervor, letting the peak hit all over again and he watched in a dazed nirvana as you pleasured. When he finally pulled out from your used leaking hole, you could tell how satisfied he was having been able to hopefully successfully seed you and that signature smugness was so evident.
You laid panting at his side as he took up another smoke, struggling to keep his eyelids from closing and drifting off to sleep. You interweaved legs, soaking wet with combined fluids dripping onto the sheets, and he flit a free finger down to your soaked pussy, groping and nearly overstimulating you with another orgasm you didn't think could be as strong as the first. He grinned at the effect and cupped your mound with his palm, dominant of it as he spoke softly.
"Groves pointed out that I have no knowledge of birth control, which is true. By this rate, you'll be having yet another baby in nine months and I can only hope we are far from this current landscape and political climate then, never to return. You know, I'm hoping for another boy this time."
You sighed with a smile, rubbing your belly and his hand joined yours, rubbing circles over your navel.
"You make a wonderful mother," he commented in praise and you laughed lightly, bitterly, and glanced at him.
"I'm not perfect, I can barely hold it together these days when they're hungry, tired, and upset for no reason I can physically see at all... Sometimes I wish to wring their necks quite honestly. And you're very hardly the model father yourself when you are always away and hardly take care of them. I know the work is everything, but they need genuine paternal love more than your science to save them."
He shrugged, nonplussed, and then set his wispy cigarette to the ashtray before leaning his head against yours.
"We are probably horrible people, but I wouldn't have it any another way. To create life with you is more than I could selfishly do alone, for obvious reasons untold."
You laughed again at his dry humor and intertwined your body with his own, wishing you could crawl inside his skin and live in his bone structure. He was absolutely everything to you, even on bad days, and maybe his prestige and stability contributed to that, but there was real love underneath his flaws.
"Whatever you face, I'll be here to try to mitigate it," you whispered seriously and he nodded, appreciative.
"I trust you and I love you, Y/N. It won't get easier for me, for us, and I'm afraid the future may be as horrifying as I imagine it."
"That's why we have sex, to stave off the inevitable for a little while," you told him, tears pushing out and slipping down your cheeks. He caught one with his finger and wiped it clean off, staring at the translucent wet spot at the tip of his fingernail sadly. It wasn't unusual for you to weep after sex, but this felt different.
"Kiss me," he murmured and you leaned forward as he grabbed the back of your head and smooshed in, tongues writhing together for a few seconds before you both pulled away, breathing in the same air together.
"Tonight is good enough for me," he decided and you snuggled into his neck, closing your eyes to succumbing exhaustion.
In an uncertain frightening world full of variables, you vowed to be his one constant for life.
Thanks for reading 🖤
#oppenheimer x reader#oppenheimer fanfiction#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x reader#j robert oppenheimer x reader#oppenheimer 2023#robert oppenheimer x y/n#j robert oppenheimer x you#cillian murphy#oppie#oppenheimer film#oppenheimer x y/n#kinktober#oneshot#requested fanfiction#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy smut#cillain murphy#cillian murphy imagine#cillian x reader#cillian x y/n#oppenheimer smut#oppenheimer au#don't like don't read#don't like don't interact#my writing#winnie's writing
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I Can Read Your Mind You Know
Title: I Can Read Your Mind You Know
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader
Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!
Word Count: 1,350
Tags: SMUT, fluff, thigh riding, exploring sexuality, eye fucking, fingering, kissing, Wanda's powers, implied oral sex, implied marking, implied biting, cum tasting, finger sucking, pet names, explicit language, explicit thoughts, explicit sexual content, and I think that's it.
Written For: @kinktober2022 and @lgbtqbingo
Square(s) Filled: Thigh Riding and Exploring Sexuality
Beta(s): T. Thompson, A. DiLorenza, and J. Landis
A/N: любимая is Russian and translates to Darling. I got this from Google Translate so I hope it’s correct. If you’re familiar with the language and it isn’t, please tell me what it should be so I can change it. I want to make sure what I put is accurate. Thank you :)
The Avenger’s Compound is quiet today. Just the way you like it. Sure, you love having everyone around too. Sharing laughs and spending quality time with your favorite group of heroes, but some days, like today, you just want some time alone.
You're sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island munching on a snack and catching up on some reading. You're so engrossed in your book that you don't see Wanda come around the corner, a surprised look on her face.
"Oh! Hello, Y/N. I thought I was the only one here."
You look up at her and almost choke on your food. In lieu of her usual attire, Wanda is sporting tight, black spandex capris and a matching sports bra. Her hair is in a high ponytail and her skin is glistening with a faint sheen of sweat.
You open your mouth to respond, but your brain has checked out and is too busy focusing on her perfectly round ass, voluptuous thighs, and perky tits.
"U-Umm…h-h-"
She tosses her empty water bottle in the recycling bin and grabs a new one from the fridge, "are you alright?"
You manage to force out a meek 'yes' and watch her as she reaches into one of the cabinets for a PowerBar. She stands on her tiptoes and your eyes can't help but glaze over as you stare directly at her backside.
Never in your life has a woman made you feel this way. You always considered yourself to be straight. Always an ally for the LGBTQ+ community, but nevertheless, straight. Until you met her.
You think about what it would be like to touch her, to map out her smooth, milky skin. Running your fingers through her soft red hair, marking her neck up with pretty, purple love bites, leaving a trail of kisses down her body until you're between her beautiful, toned thighs.
You wonder what it would be like to taste her.
You're so caught up in your fantasy that you don't realize that Wanda is now facing you, a knowing smirk on her face.
"You know I can read your mind, right?"
This time, you do choke. "I-I-I don't kn-know what you're ta-"
"Oh, I think you do know." She moves into your space and twirls a piece of your hair around her finger. “I know everything that you just conjured up in that pretty little head of yours, любимая.
You stare at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly open as she leans in a little and bites her lip. The hand that isn’t tangled in your hair comes to rest on your knee and your breath hitches.
“W-Wanda I-”
“You wanted to touch me, right?” She moves even closer, her face now only inches from yours. “You thought about what it would be like to mark me.” You swallow hard as she tilts your head back, her lips just a hair’s breadth from yours.
“You wondered what it would be like to kiss me…”
Your eyes flicker back and forth from hers down to her mouth. “Well, I-”
“Do it… Kiss me, Y/N”
You close the gap and immediately press your mouth to hers. She sighs, parting her lips and you moan desperately. Her grip tightens on your knee and you gently grab her hips. When you finally pull apart both of you are breathing heavily, and the way she’s looking at you makes your panties instantly wet.
“Wow…” You still haven’t been able to say a complete sentence to her and she giggles.
“You’re so cute, любимая.” She pulls you to your feet and leads you over to the couch. She sits down and pats her thigh, "come here, Y/N"
You turn around to sit on her lap, but she stops you. "Not like that, sweetie," she faces you toward her again and you look down at her confused, "sit here."
She gestures to her thigh and you swallow hard before doing what you're told. The combined fabric from your leggings and the spandex of her capris puts delicious friction on your core.
Wanda's petite hand finds your hair again while her other one grips your side firmly. She watches you for a moment and admires how lust-drunk you are. It's true she always thought you were very pretty, but she never really had a free moment to see what was going on in that pretty, little head of yours…until now.
"You look so innocent, Y/N. But your mind tells me something different. Do you always think about me like that?"
She watches you nod, a small whimper escaping past your parted lips.
"Have you ever been with a woman before?"
You shake your head no and Wanda smiles, "do you want to me to help you feel good, любимая?"
"Please!..."
She starts to move you along her thigh, "keep going, sweetheart. But I want to hear you too, alright? You have such a sweet voice, Y/N"
"Oh, Wanda…," you whine as you slide back and forth igniting a red-hot flame low in your belly, "oh, it feels s-so good….so good."
Wanda moans at the sight of you, the hand that was tangled in your hair now rubbing her clit. "Good girl, printsessa. I want to see you cum just like this."
God, this has to be a dream.
"Oh, it's not a dream, Y/N. It's very - mmm, fuck - r-real."
You lean down to kiss her again just to be certain. Wanda sighs and leans into it, her hips are thrusting upwards into her fingers now and the little noises she's making go straight to your soaked cunt.
It makes you almost feral seeing her like this and you decide to get bold. One of your hands grips her shoulder for leverage while the other goes down her capris and slips between her folds.
"Y/N! любимая, Fuck!"
"I wanna fuck you so bad…want you to cum around my fingers…"
Wanda rolls her eyes back as you delve two of them into her pussy. She's so wet, so fucking tight, and it makes your hips stutter a little. She guides your hips again, dragging your core over her thigh in time with the speed of your hand.
Her once blue eyes now glow red and tendrils of the same color dance from her fingers and roll over your skin. It's like someone heightened your senses, dialed them up to eleven, and your cries become louder, needier, you're so fucking addicted to how she's making you feel.
"Don't stop, printsessa…don't you dare stop!"
You fuck her faster, curling your fingers to search for her sweet spot. Desperately wanting her to feel the same way you do right now.
"Shit, you're gonna make me cum. Fuck your pretty, soft fingers feel so good. Come on, baby…show me. Be a good girl and cum with me."
You whimper and move your hips faster, chasing your high like it's a lifeline. You feel her walls start to contract and it sends you into a frenzy.
"Fuck, oh, my god….oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I’m close! Wanda, I'm so close!"
She slams her mouth on yours and that's all it takes for you to fall over the edge into the best orgasm of your life.
She's still peppering little kisses to your lips as her pussy squeezes your fingers and you clench around nothing feeling her come undone.
Wanda grabs your wrist and pulls your fingers out, bringing them to her mouth and you stop breathing when she swirls her tongue around them.
"God, Wanda…"
She stands you up and leads you down the hallway to her room. Once your inside she shuts the door and pushes you gently against the wall, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"But the team…" You stare into her eyes as she cocks her head a little.
"These walls are soundproof, Y/N." Her lips connect with yours in a chaste kiss and once again you're mesmerized by the way she's looking at you.
"Besides, I'm not even close to being done with you, printsessa."
#j snow writes#kinktober2022#kinktober 2022#lgbtq+ bingo#wanda maximoff#wanda imagine#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x reader
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Kinktober 2023 Day 2 - Spanking (Elain Archeron x reader)
A/N: Day 2 from my Kinktober masterlist! Smut! (18+ plz)
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
"I didn't wanna have to do this, baby," you coo as your hand rubs soothing circles into your mate's red and tender right ass cheek. Elain whimpers, a pitiful whine falling from her lips as she wiggles where she's bent over your lap, her hands obediently clasped at the small of her back.
"I-I'm sorry," she cries, voice stuffy from the tears she's shed while you've smacked her ass raw for the past thirty minutes.
"Hmmm, I don't think you are," your hand rears back, landing yet another harsh slap, this time to her other cheek. She squeals, her body jerking forward as she huffs into the comforter. She's panting, her face red, her body covered in sweat.
"If you hadn't acted like such a fucking slut earlier, I wouldn't be punishing you right now." You land two quick smacks, enjoying the way her cheeks ripple under your hand, the imprint of the wedding ring you adorn leaving a distinct bruise on her flesh.
She sobs, her knuckles turning white where she grips her own wrist. Again, you rub the ache you've caused, then drift your hand downwards to her sopping cunt. When your fingers meet her slick entrance, you click your tongue. She groans while you tease her clit, then gasps when you give the bundle of nerves a harsh pinch.
"Do you like making me angry?"
She shakes her head rapidly, her facing turning to the side as she strains to look at you over her shoulder, desperate to make sure you know how truly sorry she is.
"No, no, no," she breaks off into a cry, "I-I swear I didn't mean to upset you."
"Shh, Elain," you coo, hand coming to swipe the sweaty hair away from where it's plastered to her face. "I want to believe you, but I saw the way you laughed with him, my love, how you touched Azriel's arm like a desperate whore." You spit the last word like a curse, and your mate cries out again as you smack the tender flesh once more.
You laugh quietly at the feeling of her cunt dripping onto your naked thighs. "I think you are liking this, baby, and then it's not much of a punishment, hmm?"
She shakes her head. "I'm s-sorry," she whines, "you know I l-love you." Her voice is muffled, both by the tears and where she's pressed into the bed. "I didn't mean a-anything by it, promise." She clenches in preparation for another spank, and you can't help but grin at how well your pretty little mate is trained.
Again, you massage her inflamed ass. You hum as her body begins to relax, thinking her apology has finally satisfied you.
"I don't think you've quite learned your lesson yet, pretty girl."
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A/N: My first time writing for Elain! I honestly had a good bit of fun :) I look forward to writing more for her this Kinktober!
#sarah j maas#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#elain archeron x reader#elain archeron#elain archeron smut#elain archeron x reader smut#elriel#elain acotar#pro elain#acomaf#acowar#acosf#acofas#acotar thoughts#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar smut#kinktober#kinktober 2023
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━ 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑
˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗
pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x reader
word count — 3.5k
note — this little number was day one of my patreon kinktober this year, and it was too beloved (by patrons and myself) to be gatekept forever!
recommended viewing — TI WEST'S X (2022) + PEARL (2022)
bingo squares and additional content warnings below the cut.
bingo squares — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism
additional content warnings — implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth
JOSH ANDERSON HATES TO WASTE A SWEET GESTURE, but, even in the scorching mid-day heat, ice-cold lemonade just couldn't compare where it would never compete.
While fresh squeezed is good, drinking the sugary nectar straight from the tap is better.
Still, it hurt Josh's heart a bit to watch the fruit of your afternoon's labor get soaked up by the dirt. He reckons he's the only one who minds the undue waste.
Though, that shouldn't be much of a surprise; it's hard to mind much of anything when you've long since lost yours.
He supposes you have him to blame for that particular loss, too.
How did a harmless compliment devolve into this?
His hips flush to the skin of his boss' daughter, bent over the tailgate, cotton twisted at the knees, and in full view of the main road...
The afternoon began normal enough; the old man sputtered down the long drive towards town around noon, as usual, and the screen door slammed shut not a minute after the rusty ford dipped around the bend, as usual.
And, as if on cue, the delicate twinkle of glassware on a tray pulled his attention from the task at hand—barrels of hay that now lay abandoned at his boots—and Josh was treated to the eyeful that never failed to make his jeans feel two-sizes too tight and burn his neck faster than the looming sun.
Josh enjoyed the back and forth, however one-sided it often was. Though, not for a lack of trying, however girlishly awkward those efforts might be. It wasn't your fault you were sheltered beyond belief, and it made the mental reprieve all the more addicting, too.
You were easily frazzled in a way many weren't and it—a bashful purse of your lips, the gentle tremble of nervous fingers just behind you back, the way you can't meet his eye for more than a minute at a time—stirred up a sick, juvenile satisfaction Josh thought he long outgrew.
The game was relatively harmless because you were exactly that—harmless. A girl too sweet for her own good, recklessly trusting, and shouldering the heavy predisposition to assume the best in people.
Which is why he hadn't thought much about praising your equestrian skill, having been subjected to the visual torture that was the lessons you gave to local children each weekend.
Josh loved how you couldn't take a compliment without coaxing and, even then, you still squirmed like a newborn kitten.
Blinded by a halo of purity and the lure of a timid smile, your inquiry into his own riding prowess appeared just as unassuming. Another opportunity to get his fix, naively offered up on a serving tray, and he was powerless to resist the temptation.
Josh recalls chuckling to himself, prematurely reveling in the delicious reaction, as he threw a bushel out of the truck bed.
"Not as well as you, darlin', but I know my way around."
He expected you to shrivel. If not at his thinly veiled undertone, at the crass wink he tacked on between innuendos, sandwiched beside the candied term of endearment that made your thighs rub together every time he put it to use.
"I could...teach you a few tricks? Maybe show you my skills one-on-one? Something tells me you're a hands-on learner."
Josh nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn't tell if you were being serious or not; you've never given back an ounce of what you've gotten from him, but it felt too bold to be a first foray.
Sayin' something as lamely disguised as that? It'd be like jumping into a swimming hole without testing the depth beforehand.
Surely, you were brighter than that. Or, at least, puritanical by proxy.
"You're playin' with fire, darlin'."
Your resolve proved resistant to his polite warning. The grin on your face could've only been categorized as wicked.
"I'm not playing with anything—yet."
"Your daddy know you talk like that?"
"You gonna tell on me?"
You were lent against the truck by then, wide doe-eyes blinking up at him through a fan of lashes. They casted a shadow onto your cheeks that created the illusion of sob-streaked makeup; he groaned out loud.
You've set things hurtling toward mutually assured destruction. Josh had to rein you and your girlish whims in before it was too late for common sense to win out against the ache in his jeans.
That dog won't hunt.
"No, because you ain't serious. I wouldn't wanna get you in trouble for a fib."
"S'not a fib."
Your face pinched in irritation then, understandably annoyed at not being taken seriously.
He hadn't been around too long, but Josh'd seen enough to know hardly anyone did 'round these parts. Probably why you were fixed on him like junebug pursuing light to its own detriment.
For that reason alone, he should've stopped there. It was an easy place to lay the interaction to rest. You'd gotten too big for your britches and it was his responsibility—morally and professionally—to bring your head out of the clouds and put those faded pink boots back on dirt.
Josh should've left it a bluff and sent you on your way, but he had the forethought of a bull straight out of the chute. His impulse control was on par, too, come to think of it.
So, Josh did what any red-blooded man with a death wish would; he hopped down from the truck-bed.
Stalked forward until you were pinned between his bare chest and the hot metal of the truck, his gloves shed and discarded elsewhere sometime between now and when reason got caught in the wind.
"No?"
You bit your lip and shook your head, body shrunken away from his.
Josh would have thought himself safe if not for the mischievous glint in your eyes, sparkling bright and strong in the heavy sunshine. He took that glimmer as a plea for more and caged you between his arms, palms burned by the surface.
It hurt no less than the punishment for his indiscretion would if, God forbid, someone caught him takin' advantage like this.
"I'm not soft and gentle like the boys i've seen droppin' you off."
Half a mile down the road, lights off, and in the middle of the night—Josh had half a mind to steal the ladder right out from under your window in order to facilitate some natural consequences.
"You spyin' on me, Mr. Anderson?"
You weren't too much younger than him, but you treated him with the same respect and reverence as your daddy's business partners or any other senior member of your small community in next-to-nowhere Tennessee. It was endearing, how dedicated you were to respecting your elders, no matter the gap's size.
And nothing in Josh's twenty-nine years has sounded better on his sunburnt ears—or to his throbbing cock—than 'Mr. Anderson' falling from your sweet, glossy lips.
"Got to," Josh shrugged.
He feigned nonchalance about as well as you wore a poker face.
He considered you for a moment then, considered the skin exposed by your top. The way your chest rose and fell; delicious little quakes. Josh liked the way you watched him with bated breath. Perhaps, a little too much.
You were so hungry for attention and approval, so fucking eager for anything he might dish out next—he'd test the bounds of your devotion eventually if luck and time were on his side.
"It's my job to keep all your daddy's property safe and in line, sweetheart... but, i'm also a man, so I can't say I ain't dyin' t'see you ride somethin' else."
Caution bled from his mind hearin' you moan so lewdly at words alone. Any bystander would've been at a loss imagining what he could've done to coax out a sound so broken and overtly impatient from such a pious, pretty thing such as yourself. All he did was utter a quip that would've made a teenager scoff and roll their eyes, and you practically melted in his palms.
You wore your neon innocence on your chest.
"Darlin, it ain't too late to pretend this never happened. We haven't done anythin' wrong, but you're toeing a dangerous line. You're a good girl. Y'wouldn't wanna get us both into any trouble, would'ya?"
"'m not gonna to tell."
You're persistent, he'd give you that.
Bold, too, he came to learn; your warm hand palmed his considerable bulge with enough enthusiasm to negate your palpable inexperience.
"You keep movin' those hands and i'll have to, sweetheart."
"You won't."
You said it with as much conviction as you say grace every night. Josh can almost feel your palm in his.
"How can you be so sure? You hardly know me, sugar. I've been here all summer and this is the most you've said to me in one go."
"Because you wanna touch me as much as i wanna touch you."
"That right, sweet girl?"
"Yessir."
Josh would have you if the creek don't rise.
And even if it did, he would find a way.
You squeak out a garble of protest as you wriggle in his arms. The struggle only worsens the dig of his wide tip prodding the mint hole, his length slick and sliding between your sticky folds with absolutely no resistance—a fact josh goaded you with, one that only made you gush out even more.
"N-not inside, Mr. Anderson," you hiccup.
All your sobbing and moaning has rubbed your vocal cords raw. And thank God for it, because you're louder than a rooster in a hen house and he hasn't even been inside anywhere.
You wouldn't even kiss him with tongue.
"Why's that, sugar? You savin' this sweet cherry for your future husband?"
A pathetic, bashful nod is all he gets from you. Josh chuckles into the musky skin of your soft neck. The patronizing sound makes you mewl and rut back into his lap in spite of your earnest vow of chastity.
"Well, aren't you precious, sweetheart? But that don't mean I can't fuck you, though. You've got another perfectly good hole back here for me to stick my cock in."
You don't hate the filthy suggestion, even though you know you should; you curled into yourself as if you did. The escaped whimper and roll of your body scream the truth when your mouth insists on lying. You might love his idea more than whatever you originally sought out.
In fact, if Josh was a betting man, he'd feel good putting his savings on that.
"Aw, don't get all shy on me now, darlin'. Where'd my little cocktease go, huh? Thought she'd be over the moon at the thought of me stretching out one of her little holes—no matter which one—but I guess I was mistaken."
Josh makes a show of separating your bodies. He leaves you bent over the truck bed, fingers threaded through crumpled hay, as his belt rattles dismissively in his hand.
"Go on, sugar. Run along now. I got work to do and you ain't gonna waste any more of my time."
"No!" you burst, spinning on a bare heel to latch onto his forearm. The tears of a blossoming fit well in your already glassy eyes. "I-I want to, I've just never...nothin's ever been...y'know."
"Never?" Josh blinks incredulously. He wretches off your iron grip to take your hand in his. "Not even these cute little fingers?"
Your head wags.
He smirks. "What about that hairbrush of yours?"
You wear embarrassment just as pretty as you do lust. Josh thinks you might cry for real this time.
He can't wait to lick your cheeks dry.
Josh does his best not to laugh, but your pained, guilt-ridden expression is too amusing. You try to look away but he's quicker—and stronger—than you. Josh grabs your cheeks with his free hand and squeezes until you whimper in obvious submission.
Like a tomcat with a belly full of yellow feathers, Josh bares his teeth. "Shouldn't leave your curtains open if you ain't inviting me to a free show, sugar. Not that I'm complaining—the hours go by much quicker when y'got somethin' nice to look at."
He smells the shame rolling off of you in uneven waves, can just about taste it, too. Fuck, one taste of you'll never be enough to satiate him. Of that, the foreman is certain.
Josh drops your wrist and cups your face with warm, calloused hands. His thumbs rub the teardrops into your cheeks as he coos, "I promise I'll take real good care of you, sweetheart. Nice and slow...get you so ready you'll be beggin' me to split you open. Y'can trust me, I know what I'm doin'—y'ain't the first i've had the pleasure of breakin' in."
You scowl, jaw set and eyes narrowed; rearing to charge. Invisible steam plumes from your rabbit-twitch nose. You are so dang cute, he could hardly stand it.
"Put that pout away before I spank it off of ya, y'hear?"
He nearly busts with how quickly you fall in line at the mere implication of corporal punishment.
Josh'll remember that for later.
"Didn't even give me a chance to say ain't none of them could hold a candle to you, sugar."
Taking you on your back proved to be too much of a temptation, what with your virginal hole mouthing around nothing like a siren song, and your demure face crinkled into disrepair at the hand of your own perverse wants. Your limp thighs splayed open as Josh fucked your ass bare with no assistance, save from his spit and your dribble.
"Look how ripe you are, sugar. Your little pussyhole is cryin' for me and you won't even let me touch her...not even a little bit."
He gave you your first peak in that position, his teeth ground into the side of his cheek as he fought to keep his own at bay; Josh was far from done playing with your supple, sensitive body. With his thumb pressed to your puffy button, he stroked you halfway to your second and then abruptly pulled out.
The hiss of pain and surprise is swallowed by a mound of hay as you're flipped over and he hikes your hips up high into the muggy air. Your hands curl into fists on either side of your head.
Josh's face lowers until his nose slots in the valley between the rounded muscles. His deep inhale and subsequent hum of approval exacerbates the battle waging behind your glazed, lust-blown eyes. His thick tongue slips past the love-loosened ring and he fucks you with it like he can hear the conflict monopolizing your mind.
Josh laps and laps, kneading the tender flesh of your rear like he's got something to prove, until your back aches and you scream into the earth.
The obscene smacking of his lips as he parts from your tender hole is nothing short of profane, but it's no match for the fresh, hot glob of spit that lands on the sore pucker with a loud splat!
And Josh can't help but throw salt in the wound, "'wanna be able to smell your wrecked little asshole for hours, sugar, wanna be able to taste you on my lips all fucking day."
Tears race down your cheeks. This is everything you've been taught is immoral. A one-way ticket to the fiery domain down below. This is a sin, desecration of the worst kind.
This is the most pleasure you've felt in your entire life.
The sun is far too close to the adjacent range of mountains for his liking; the old man will be home a little before it dips behind them for the night with your mama in tow.
Josh is going to cum before then. At least once. Propriety be damned.
He maneuvers you up and off of the ground, taking the time to brush the dirt and smushed fodder from your tear-stained cheeks and clammy palms.
Your heart jumps to your throat when he finishes positioning you—split open on his girth, straddling his broad hips, turned away from his kind eyes, and facing the dirt road. You grip his rippling, jean-clad thighs.
Josh can feel your freshly-painted claws through the sturdy fabric.
"I d-don't know how, sir."
His hips involuntarily buck at the honorific; it'll never get old.
"Yes, you do, darlin'. I know y'do. Seen it with my own two eyes." Josh taps the fleshy bit of your hip. He's growing impatient. "Go on, pretty girl. Ride me like you ride your ponies."
"Not ponies."
He doesn't need to see your face to know you're glowering. Probably singeing holes into the poor, weathered barn ahead, your kind features scrunched tightly into a frown. If you do it any harder, you'll get stuck that way.
And Josh can't have that. Can't have his sweet, good girl permanently pouting. He'd never get a lick of work done again; he'd be to busy fucking that absent-minded smile back where it belongs.
Admittedly, the open-palm hit is harder than the situation warrants but he's waited too long to watch it jiggle at his hand to control himself.
"What was that?" he growls.
You grind down, swiveling your hips as you grasp onto the lifeline, "Nothin', sir."
"God, even with a cock in your ass you still mind your manners. Your daddy would be so proud of ya, wouldn't he, sugar? Raised ya so good, got ya so obedient."
Josh's vision clouds as you find your stride. The feel of you rocking over his cock is unreal. Entirely unmatched by anything he's ever experienced, in practice or in theory. You feel divine.
You're just as dedicated and passionate in riding him as you are that gentle Tennessee Walker of yours. But there's an intense undercurrent he's never seen before—a fervid need that he could only hope would surface and possess you someday.
Today is that day, and it is glorious.
"Spread yourself f'me, honey."
You do so without lip or hesitation. You just reach back and grab yourself with both hands, hips never wavering.
Heaven-sent, he muses. His very own fallen angel.
A she-devil in disguise; a dirty whore with a greedy, greedy hole.
Josh's never seen anything hotter than your tight little ass fighting to accommodate another of his blessings.
It ain't like you're going easy on yourself either, forcing that sweet hole to take a beating because slow and steady ain't enough anymore. The floodgates have been opened, you're now subservient to the mounting heat low in your tummy and the pulse of your neglected, untouched pussy. You're fucking yourself hard enough for both holes, and you've graciously awarded Josh a front-row seat.
"Sweet Jesus, you're prettier than a peach—juicer, too. I reckon you got the nicest set of holes this side of the Mississippi, sugar."
You preen, back arching. In response, you hold yourself open even wider for his perverted gaze.
"That's it—show me where my cock is. Show me what you've let me take, what you've let me claim—what I'll always call my own. Even when you're good and hitched, it'll be mine. And whenever your empty ass aches, you'll think of this—think of me.
You'll always remember the time you let your daddy's foreman soil you in the middle of his pasture."
The moan that tumbles from your gaping mouth is as uncouth as the visual feast you're treating him to. Even in your struggle to balance on chaffed knees.
Taking mercy on your poor skin, Josh sits up, tugging you back so that your back is pressed tight to his sweat-drenched chest. His grip on your hips matches the ferocity of your hole pulsing around the base of his member, his heavy sack jumping up to repeatedly slap your sensitive clit.
"Y'gonna let me fill this little hole, sugar?" His voice is low in your ear, his breath humid and encouraging.
Your head bobs, your body in a frenzy.
Josh hums his satisfaction, "m'gonna stuff you full and send you back inside—have you make supper right next to your mama with me leakin' down these pretty thighs...M'gonna make you sit in your sin across the table from your daddy."
It's that thought—and your enthusiasm for it—that kicks him over the edge, and, without warning, Josh is unloading warm ropes into your ruined body while you spill for a third time, painting his generous sack in your cream—and it's the crumpled white cotton sticking out of his back pocket that lays the foundation for it to become a reality.
As you limp back to the main house like a freshly dropped foul, Josh knows there won't be any more boys parked at the edge of the property line. No need for the ladder tucked behind the bushes.
Your daddy's gonna be so pleased with him. For weeks, he's been asking Josh for his two cents on how to exterminate the vermin in his field. They're gone now, and Josh'll make sure they stay gone.
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#foreman!josh anderson#josh anderson#josh anderson x reader#josh anderson imagine#canadiens#habs#montreal canadiens#j. anderson#josh anderson smut#josh anderson fic#kinktober 2023#kinktober 2022#farmer's daughter!reader#ti west#x (2022)#pearl (2022)#x reader#x reader smut#hockey rpf#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl rpf#hockey x reader#my work#hockey fandom#hockey fic#hockey romance#hockey boys#hockey au#nhl smut
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Kinktober day 29: milking: Michael
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“Come on, Michael, you can give me another right?” You hum out, pumping the fleshlight faster warning a guttural groan. Michael made no attempt to move, despite the overstimulation was kicking in at this point, you know he feels it.
You twist the toy in your hand, making him jerk a bit. “You’re hopeless, can’t last more than five minutes, huh?” Michael ignores you, bucking up into the toy. “What a masochist…”
You watch in amusement as he tries to further stimulate himself. You reach your free hand down to caress his balls. That was enough to force him into another orgasm. He’s silent the entire time, merely struggling lightly against the binds holding him to the bed.
He trembled the entire time, legs willfully spread so you wouldn’t slow down. “That’s it, just like that…” You twist the toy again, making him buck towards you.
#nsft#kinktober#kinktober 2022#dom reader#milk play#michael myers#michael x reader#halloween movie#surprise!!! took me a year to finish this :’) /j#overstim#sub Michael#sub Michael Meyers
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Kinktober2023 Day 14: Formal Wear + Deep Throating
banner art by @/auroblaze
Impromptu Consummation
contains: oral sex/fellatio, semi-public sex, cis/trans, angel/demon
Kinktober2023 Prompt List & Neocities Page
Tips are appreciated!
For his first—and most likely only—human wedding, Pride thought he was doing a fantastic job of keeping his shit together. It helped that it was a celebration of two of his best friends and that the ceremony wasn’t in a church, but having to sit still for hours made him itch. When the reception rolled around, he praised the presence of alcohol, but even that was a short-lived gift. So many people wanted to talk to him, for so long, practically shouting over the music. He smiled through gritted teeth, acting polite and civil, pretending to enjoy every second of it. In truth, he wanted to tear his skin off.
Halfway through the reception, he retreated into the corner of the room to brood. Staring daggers at everyone who came close solved that problem, but created a new one. He couldn’t find Justice. And if he stood up to go looking, he would invite the small-talk vultures back.
Much more of a social butterfly, Justice fluttered off to have a dozen conversations right after dinner. Pride did his best to keep up, determined to stay glued to his side no matter what, but it was just too much. They got separated when Pride tried to drink himself into sociability, but only managed to have a glass of wine before he got swarmed. And now he was here.
He scanned the shifting crowd. Justice had his hair up tonight, tucked into a tight bun on the crown of his head, which should have been a beacon for any search, but Pride had no such luck. He played with the zipper of the clutch that dangled off his wrist, disappointed.
It was such a waste to get separated—they even coordinated their outfits. Justice wore a deep teal three-piece suit, to match the wedding theme, but picked out a black tie to match Pride’s glittery dress. Pride, on the other hand, adorned himself with teal jewelry, letting his hair down to swing around his shoulders. They looked incredible together, but now he was just wearing a necklace. Not to mention that the idea of anyone in this crowd ogling Justice made him want to flip tables.
“Pride?"
He jerked up, and immediately melted at the sight of someone tolerable. Sofia floated down into a chair across from him, her billowing white dress filling enough space for three, dirty blonde hair still pinned up with a beautiful flower crown.
“What are you doing over here?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”
“I lost Justice somewhere,” Pride admitted, waving into the crowd. “I’d go look for him but I—cannot talk to any more people, you know?”
“Of course, of course!” She jumped out of her seat, determined. “I’ll see if I can drag him over here for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” She pressed their cheeks together and made a kiss sound into his ear. Then she darted off, the crowd easily parting for one of the two brides. Pride slouched back in his chair. Sometimes, having friends was really nice.
Sofia came back a few minutes later, leading Justice by the hand. She brought him over, excused herself to go find Ollie, and whirled away again.
“I was looking for you too,” Justice said, sitting down next to him. Pride latched onto his arm immediately, pressing his face into the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I need a break,” he said.
“We can talk a walk outside.”
“Yeah, that works.”
They snuck out the back door. The outdoor half of the venue was beautiful, a manicured garden full of seasonal flowers and trees. It was perfect for any wedding photoshoot. Or, in their case, an escape from the party.
Pride clung to Justice as they made an idle path through the garden. It was a pleasantly warm night, crickets chirping in the grass, full moon and stars twinkling above. But most importantly, it was empty. No hordes of people, no forced conversations. Just the two of them.
They made a circuit around the garden, silently walking. Already, life and energy bled back into Pride’s mood. In the dark and quiet, he could finally breathe. Now he held onto Justice not out of fear he would slip away again, but to be close to him, like they should always be.
“Are you proud of me for behaving myself?” Pride asked.
“You’ve already exceeded my expectations,” Justice replied. “Not a single drunken fistfight all night. Good job.”
He glimmered from the praise. He was doing a good job. “Did I tell you how hot you look in that suit yet?”
“Four times, but thank you.” He bent over to kiss the top of his head. “You look beautiful too.”
Pride squeezed his arm, gazing up at him adoringly. His compliment wasn’t for nothing—Justice wore his suit extremely well. The blueish teal made a perfect contrast to his skin, lighting up the golden brown. His broad shoulders filled the jacket easily, cutting a handsome silhouette. The vest underneath it slimmed his waist in a way that Pride in particular found very tempting. It dragged his eyes down, urging him to follow the lines of his body. And maybe it was because Pride knew what was underneath those slacks, but the way they hugged his hips made him salivate.
“Can we kiss?” he asked.
Justice responded by scooping his cheeks up to give him what he asked for. Pride threw arms around his neck the moment their lips touched, drinking him in like he’d wanted to do since they left the house. Since he’d first seen Justice in this suit at the fitting, when his jaw dropped and his eyes nearly rolled out of his skull. It took every ounce of willpower not to jump on him right there. But now they were alone.
Pride dragged Justice to the wall of the venue and pushed him against it. His breath hitched, and stopped altogether when Pride sank, raking his hands down on the way, until his knees hit the grass.
“W-what—why?” Justice stammered.
“Please?” Pride begged. He tugged on the empty beltloops. “I want to choke on you so bad.”
“I—I’m renting this!”
“Don’t worry.” He squeezed the soft bump where he knew Justice’s cock would be, and he gasped. “I won’t be messy.”
Justice blinked down at him, not buying it, but ultimately relented. He nodded once and Pride raced to open his fly, drawing his cock out semi-hard. He pumped it a few times, Justice squirming against the wall, watching him grow and thicken in his hand. Pride shakily licked his lips, staring down his shaft.
“Oh, wait!” he remembered. He unzipped his clutch and produced a tube of black lipstick.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t make me messy,” Justice reminded him.
“I won’t.” Pride smeared on a thick layer and popped his lips. “This is for me.”
Before he could ask what that meant, Pride slid his cock into his mouth. Justice slapped a hand over his mouth, but Pride could hear the moan he muffled. Halfway down, Pride folded back his fly and pressed his hands over the fabric, protecting his slacks from what would follow.
Pride sucked gently and dragged his mouth up, tongue pressed against his shaft. Justice whined behind his hand, eyes hazy already. He pulled off, swirled around his tip, and sank back down. Salty pre-cum hit his tongue and mixed with the taste of lust. Pride muffled his own moan at the combination.
The garden around them was quiet except for that. Whether it was Justice trying to stay quiet, or Pride with no choice, their muted sounds cut through the peaceful night. Pride licked, sucked, and curled his tongue to paint even more of the nightscape with their escapade. He hoped nobody would come out to investigate—Sofia and Ollie probably wouldn’t care, but their guests might. But if they did, oh well. Pride wasn’t going to stop.
He bobbed his head on Justice, pulling his lips into a tight ring. When he got to the top, he laved the tip of his cock, licking and sucking on it, then plunged back down. Justice panted into his hand, the occasional whimper slipping between his fingers. Pride went lower and lower each time, letting it fill his mouth a little more. The more of Justice’s heavy, warm cock sat on his tongue, the faster the excitement built.
Pride licked patterns on his shaft, played with his tip, sucked him over and over, and Justice shook. His pants turned into wheezes, moans getting louder behind his fingers. He slid all the way up his cock and teased his tip until he whimpered. Desperate, his hips twitched off the wall, begging for more.
Finally unable to resist, Pride took a deep breath and sank back down. He swallowed every inch of Justice, taking him until his tip hit the back of his throat, and his nose dug into his curly bush. Justice froze. His eyes went wide, reflecting the silver moon and dozens of stars. Pride held his breath, relishing the feeling of a mouth full to bursting, holding his hard cock in his throat like a prize.
Justice slid a shaky hand into his loose hair, combing it back from his face. Pride shuddered, getting to the end of his air, and pulled back. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks to give Justice everything at once. A long, broken moan leaked from behind his fingers, hand fisting in his hair. Pride moaned with the last of his breath, popping off his cock to gasp.
Not a minute had passed before Pride was down on him again. Every bob hit the back of his throat, licking and sucking every inch of his cock. Justice twisted and gasped, shaky keening floating off into the night. Pride moaned around him as he fucked his own throat, dripping from both ends. Drool and pre-cum leaked from his mouth, dripping past his lips, but he only stopped to lick it back inside. He bobbed fast and sucked hard, frantic with lust.
Justice clenched his hair hard, and Pride moaned. Urgent whines met his ears suddenly—Justice was close. Not backing down, Pride buried his nose in his bush again, taking his cock all the way, and swallowed around it.
Cum shot down his throat and he choked on it. Justice trembled through his orgasm while Pride reeled back coughing, adding another disparate sound into the night. Justice dribbled onto the grass at his knees, and only when he was spent did he realize what happened.
“A-are you okay?” he asked, trying to sound worried through his breathlessness.
“Fine,” Pride rasped, grinning. “I said I wanted to choke.”
Before he could be exasperated, Pride licked up the mess on his cock, and tucked the flaccid thing back into his underwear. As promised, the slacks were perfectly clean. On the contrary, Pride’s face was a complete wreck, lipstick smeared and drool shining on his mouth. Exactly as he planned—because now they had to go back into the venue to clean him up.
That was attention he could handle.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#original writing#original smut#original fiction#original characters#queer characters#trans character#mlm#bi4bi#smut#queer nsft#trans nsft#annika talks#P&J#Pride & Justice
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Day 9: Lactation | The Daily Life of a Noble
Pairing: Jimin x Hoseok x Fem!Reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 773
A/N: Pregnant warning, mentions of past physical abuse! And really bad descrriptions of how people had sex in the victorian era....like shakespeare made up words too! I may have made some shit up but that's why we write fanfics!
🎃 Don't be shy, check my other cocktober fics! 🎃
⇤Prev | Next ⇥
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“I’m so glad we can be together now…” Your husband placed a hand on your belly.
“All three of us…” The Park clan’s middle child placed his hand on the other side of your lower stomach.
“How did this even happen?” You leaned into Hoseok’s embrace.
“Are you still not used to me, dear?” Jimin asked, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Not at all. I’m not used to being loved, I suppose.” Your previous fiance, Hoseok’s brother, was an evil man. He often belittled you and struck you down when no one was watching. And then he died on his way back from visiting the royal palace, killed by assassins. Of course you were worried about your new beloved, but that was before you knew Hoseok.
Jimin came into the picture a few months after you were married to Hoseok, as his guest. And then you heard it, the sounds of their noisy lovemaking. You walked in, unaware of what was happening and thanks to Jimin’s playful nature you ended up staying the entire night. Eventually you ended up taking him as a lover as well, and then shifted into a more deeper relationship between the two, entangled nights a many between them, until you became pregnant with the seeds of their love. It didn’t matter to you who the father was, and neither did they care. They loved you deeply, and knew each would love the baby in his own way, regardless of who’s blood the child carried. The servants whispered about you surely, as Jimin indefinitely lived with you but he was here under the pretenses of business and hospitality as your guest. You knew the servants were no idiots, they surely knew of the nightly partakings you had with your “guest” and husband, sometimes both at once.
You were on the rocking chair as Hoseok pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and Jimin was kissing down your folds. You were quivering, holding your voice back as the servants were probably readying the mansion for your audience with your mother and sisters later. Right now you just needed a release which your lover was more than excited to give you.
“You taste impossibly wet today, my dear.” Jimin hummed as he worked down your sopping bud.
“Oh, look at that, she’s soaked from the top…sweetheart, let me take off that for you.” Hoseok helped you remove your garments and undergarments, both him and Jimin staring at your pregnant body in awe.
“Sixth month and you still look as ripe as the day I arrived.” Jimin kissed your hands with pure love in his eyes.
“She is a vision.” Your husband agreed with his lover. Slowly, your breasts began to leak a thick white substance.
“Is that…oh my….she’s leaking, darling.” Jimin pointed out to your husband.
“I believe that our lady is preparing for the babe’s arrival,” Hoseok replied curtly, closing his eyes and turning his face towards your hardened nipples. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we had a little taste.” Before you could get a word in, his lips were wrapped around your left tit, suckling them as greedily as he smirked, rubbing the other one with his free hand. And then Jimin began to suck too.
“F-fuck!” You closed your eyes as both men sucked your tits.
“Uh-oh…we might be making the babe a little angry.” Jimin said. They shared a laugh as they felt the baby kick your belly. You groaned, feeling needier than usual.
“P-please…” You whined.
“Alright, sweet girl. That’s enough. Time for the main event.” Jimin stood up, whipping out his cock for you to take.
“Go on, suck his cock, my love.” Hoseok’s voice rang like church bells in your ears.
“Mmm…” You wasted no time on taking Jimin’s cock in your mouth while your husband squeezed your nipples and slowly lowered his shaft into your entrance. You fucked your lover with your mouth as your husband worked your pussy open.
You clenched around him as he came effortlessly, and with a few more pumps, Jimin’s semen painted your face white and your breast milk coated their bodies as you had your orgasm. Jimin would not stop rubbing your clit while Hoseok fucked you, and on top of all that using his lips, the little cheater! You came easily thanks to his help and collapsed from exhaustion.
“My god…” You moaned. “Thank you.” You sighed.
“You’re very welcome.” Jimin gave you a soft kiss and wiped your face off with a wet cloth.
“Let’s clean off our girl now.” Your husband handed him another cloth and helped you back into your gown.
#jimin#j hope#hoseok#bts#jimin x reader x hoseok#jihope x reader#jihope#poly bts#kinktober 2023#female reader#victorian au#jimin x reader#hoseok x reader#jhope x reader#bts smut
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Kinktober 2024
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
So I have never done a kinktober before but I really wanted to do one this year, I'm posting about it now so that way I have plenty of time to get the drabbles done by.
I hope to write a drabble per day of course except for 2 days (those 2 days I will be participating in another event)
I was thinking of opening requests but only for the following: after looking through the following kinks you can send in which member you want for a kink (for example: can ice play be with bts tae please?) (actually that sounds good ice play is taken)
(bts, ateez, or stray kids only please) (also I want each member to feel included no member should be left out)
Reminder that nothing will start posting until October (please don't be that bitch and ask for updates)
Letting my besties know hehe!! @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @ja3hwa @anyamaris @whatudowhennooneseesyou @shinestarhwaa
KINKS finished!!!!
Ice play - bts taehyung
wax play - skz chan
handcuffs - skz hyunjin
choking - skz chan
ginger paste - atz seonghwa
vaginal fisting - bts jungkook
double pen - bts taehyung
edging - skz minho
overstim - bts jimin
needle play - bts hoseok
breast appreciation nipple clamps - bts yoongi
somnophilla - skz jeongin
cockwarming - atz wooyoung
electro stim - bts jungkook
double pen same hole - skz minho
breath play other (not choking) - bts jimin
long tern denial - atz hongjoong
dacryphilia - atz wooyoung
exhibitionism - atz san
voyeurism - skz jisung
anal fisting - skz changbin
total deprivation (blindfoldes, earplugs, ball gag) - skz seonghwa
Double ended dildo - bts yoongi
shibari - atz jongho
suspension - bts namjoon
omoroshi - skz seungmin
Spreader bar - skz felix
thigh riding - atz yunho
impact play - atz mingi
mirror sex - atz san
knife play (no cutting only fear) - atz yeosang
Period sex - bts seokjin
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#bts kinktober#ateez kinktober#stray kids kinktober#bts jimin#bts v#bts jungkook#bts jin#bts rm#bts suga#bts j-hope#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez yunho#ateez seonghwa#ateez hongjoong#ateez yeosang#ateez jongho#ateez wooyoung#stray kids bang chan#stray kids leeknow#stray kids han#stray kids changbin#stray kids Felix#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids I.N#stray kids seungmin
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InkTober My Version Days 1-3
InkTober Day 1: Dream, KinkTober Day 1: Lap Pillow, GoodOmensTober: Duck
#david tennant#good omens#anthony j crowley#crowley#neil gaiman#terry pratchett#michael sheen#aziraphale#digital art#instagram#inktober#kinktober
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Is there a kink that RO has never tried and they want to try with MC?
NSFW below!
The ROs' kinks for reference^^
Honestly this has never crossed my mind!
I know J would be open to trying doing it in public (exhibitionism) / watching someone banging MC, or having someone watch them.
Uma doesn't have much experience but they'd be pretty open with going along with what MC wants (within reason). They don't know the extent of their own kinkiness yet.
I headcanon m!Statler secretly wonders about being pegged. F!Statler wouldn't trying out a strap-on.
Wanda would be open to trying edging/being edged.
Kai would be into dressing up for sure. They've never tried it but it wouldn't take too much convincing from MC. And DP.
I think Travis would be really into a brat.
#i used a kinktober list to get some inspo and#what my eyes have witnessed today...#I'm not the same woman I was a few minutes ago#dropout#dropout if#ask#nsft#j gray#kai alofa#ros#statler amani#travis camaro#uma bharat#wanda pavon
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hung for a sheep as a lamb (hung for a unicorn as a horse)
Title: hung for a sheep as a lamb (hung for a unicorn as a horse)
Pairing: Temporarily!Unicorn!Aziraphale x Temporarily!Unicorn!Crowley
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4,505
Warnings: Smut, fully shifted sex, inhuman genitalia, breeding, impregnation, implied past dub-con
Summary:
Heaven wants to use unicorns in the Great War. They're a bit late for that, of course–and not happy about it. They tell Aziraphale to bring the unicorns back, or be punished. Well, turns out you can't just create unicorns from mortal creatures, or bless mortal creatures into producing unicorns.
It's a good thing then that, to an angel and a demon, shape is merely a suggestion.
Events
Here There Be Monsters: (@theladydrgn)
shapeshifting
breeding
Kinktober List by @edensrose & @cilil:
telepathy
Kink Bingo Card: (@anyfandomkinkbingo)
free space - impregnation
#good omens fanfiction#good omens#aziraphale x crowley#ineffable husbands#anthony j crowley#anthony crowley#crowley#aziraphale#gomonsterkinktober#Here There Be Monsters#Here There Be Monsters Day 8#Here There Be Monsters Day 11#afkinkbingo#Kinktober List by edensrose & cilil#Kinktober List by edensrose & cilil Day 19
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Love Dust
Title: Love Dust
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!
Word Count: 2,245
Tags: SMUT, Angst, fluff, sex pollen, kink: harder, find the cure, arguing, sexual tension, minor injuries, masturbation, mutual masturbation, wall sex, unprotected sex, choking, biting, oral sex (female receiving), kissing, multiple orgasms, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it but please let me know if I forgot something.
Written For: @kinktober2022 , @buckybarnesbingo , and @badthingshappenbingo
Square(s) Filled: Sex Pollen for Kinktober // B2 - Kink: Harder for Bucky Barnes Bingo // O1 - Find The Cure for Bad Things Happen Bingo
Beta(s): T. Thompson and A. DiLorenza
"Bucky? Hey, Buck can you hear me?"
You were partnered with the super soldier on the most recent mission, and things started out bad and kept getting worse.
The two of you didn't really get along, to begin with. Add that to the fact that neither of you agreed with the other's decisions, and well, that's how you ended up here, in this dark, dilapidated room.
The walls are cement, the floor is concrete, there are no windows, and the only light is coming from a little vent on the wall by the steel door.
Neither of you is restrained, but you're a hundred percent certain the door is locked. Instead of wasting your time trying to pry it open, you decide to check on Bucky. After all, he's the one with super soldier serum running through his veins, and with his super strength and metal arm, he's your best bet at getting out.
You crouch down and brush his shoulder-length hair out of his face. He really is beautiful, but you'd never tell him that to his face. He'd never let you live that confession down.
He's got a pretty gnarly gash above his eyebrow but other than that, he's unscathed. Well, from what you can immediately determine anyway. You gently roll him onto his back and press two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse.
Okay, so at least he's not dead.
His chest rises and falls and you can't help but run your fingers over his silver hand. The metal is cool and you flatten his palm to look at the intricate grooves. You've always been fascinated with the inner workings and design of his prosthetic, but never had a chance to look at it up close. Until now.
"The fuck are you doing?"
You jump and scoot back to give him some room, "sorry… you were out cold and I couldn't get you to wake up."
He raises an eyebrow, "so you decide the best way to do that is to play with my metal hand?"
"Just shut up and help me get us out of here."
Bucky sits up and looks around. He doesn't remember much other than the stubborn tactics that got the two of you surrounded by Hydra agents.
He stands and rolls the sleeve of his red Henley up to expose his metal forearm before gripping the door handle.
"You should probably stand back."
You roll your eyes, "I'm fine. Would you just do it already? I'm hungry and want to shower."
He shrugs and gives the handle a hard tug. Nothing happens so he fixes his stance and uses both arms to pull as hard as he can.
You stand and watch with your hands on your hips. Even though his efforts didn't work it was still nice to admire his back and arm muscles flexing. Just because you think Bucky's insufferable doesn't make him unattractive. You're only human.
"Good try and all, but I don't think the door's gonna budge."
Bucky sighs and lowers himself onto the floor again, the back of his head resting against the wall. Out of all the people he could have been trapped in a ten-by-ten empty room with it just had to be you.
He's honestly not sure what Fury sees in you. Sure you're skilled in combat and can hold you're own on missions. He'd be lying if he said you weren't pretty, but your arrogant personality rubs him the wrong way. It's just like that saying goes, you can't have everything.
"So, any ideas?"
He doesn't even bother opening his eyes.
"Not unless you got a way to bust through that thick, steel door."
"So, we're just supposed to sit here then?"
Bucky sighs, a twinge of annoyance hints in his tone. "Well, seeing as there's only us in here, and I'm the only one who would have been able to open the door, I don't see how we can do anything else."
"That's really helpful," you deadpan. He grunts and you roll your eyes. You watch him from the opposite wall. He's always so nice to everyone else at the compound. Granted he doesn't talk that much or participate in the parties that Tony holds, but he never seems unpleasant with anyone else. So why is he that way with you?
You can't put your finger on it, and so long as you are stuck in this tiny ass room with him you're going to figure out why.
"What's your deal?"
Bucky cracks an eye open and subtly tilts his head toward you, "excuse me?"
"Why are you always such a dick to me?"
He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm not getting into this with you, Y/N. My head hurts, I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood to open this can of worms right now."
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can a hissing noise catches both of your attention. You look at the vent and begin to panic at the sight of a pale yellow mist flowing out.
"Bucky? What the fuck is that?"
"I…don't know…but whatever it is it can't be good."
He stands and goes to pull on the door handle again, but to no avail. The dust-like substance floats in front of his face and he stumbles back, his body becoming overwhelmed with heat.
"Bucky?!"
He collapses onto all fours, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He's hot all over, and even though he hears you call out to him, he can't focus on anything but the thick, molten heat pooling in his groin.
Once he can finally catch his breath he realizes something else.
He can smell you.
Bucky grits his teeth and tries so hard to ignore the intoxicating scent of your arousal. It's surrounding him, and he can't help the tent forming in his jeans. He's hard and leaking, his cock begging to be touched, and it's taking everything in him to keep himself from tearing your clothes off and pounding it into your tight, wet heat.
You slowly get closer to him avoiding the yellow dust as best as you can. He's doubled over like he's in serious pain, and even though the two of you don't see eye to eye it doesn't mean you want him to suffer.
Your hand gently touches his shoulder and he immediately whips his head around to look at you, your eyebrows shooting up in shock.
Bucky's unrecognizable. His skin is flushed, his pupils are dilated, and his nostrils flare as his lip curls upwards. He looks absolutely feral and you aren't sure if it's because he wants to kill you or if he wants to devour you.
He stands and turns to you, his shoulders moving up and down as he breathes. His fists clench at his sides and he inhales deeply, groaning as he closes his eyes.
"You smell so fucking good, Y/N…"
"Bucky?" You hold your hands up as he stalks toward you, "please…y-you don't have to do this!"
He backs you into the wall and plants a hand on either side of you. His face lowers down to yours and you turn your head to cower away. You're unsure what his motive is. Is he going to eat you? Is this some sort of cannibalistic dust that infects the people that ingest it?
Bucky leans into your neck, his nose dragging along your throat as he breathes in again.
"Mmm, wanna taste you…"
You push on his chest but it's no use. Trying to move him away is like trying to move a brick wall.
There's no where for you to go. Bucky's blocking you from the front and the dust is slowly surrounding you from both sides.
The first flakes of it dance across your face and it's like you've been dipped in a sea of lava. Your back arches off the wall and your panties immediately become soaked through. The throbbing between your legs is so intense that you can't even think straight.
One of your hands slides into your panties and you immediately push two fingers inside of yourself. It does nothing to soothe your need for release, but you just can't stop.
Bucky growls and nearly tears his own off so he can fist his cock. He thrusts into his hand as he watches you, his eyes wild and primal.
Your orgasm comes suddenly and you cry out as slick covers your hand. Bucky’s isn't far behind, seemingly endless ropes of cum bursting from his tip.
Although it felt good, reaching your high did nothing to satiate the unbearable ache in your core. You rub fast circles on your clit while Bucky strokes up and down his still leaking cock.
"Bucky," you whine desperately, his eyes fierce as he looks down at you, "i-it won't stop…"
Bucky closes his eyes and swallows hard. He can hear how wet you are and the last shreds of his self control are dwindling away.
"Buck, please I-I can't… We need to… to find the cure."
"Fuck!" He growls and drags you down so you're laying on the floor, "gotta taste you, doll. Smell so fucking good."
At this point, you'd let him do anything if it made you feel better. You lift your hips and he strips you, tossing your clothes somewhere behind him. He spreads your thighs apart and curses under his breath.
"Jesus, you're dripping all over the floor, baby."
You whimper and circle your clit again, but he swats your hand away.
"Please!" You beg. "Just please do something. I can't take much mo-OH, FUCK!"
Bucky dives between your legs like a starved man. He uses his thumbs to spread you open, his tongue diving into your soaked cunt. He's relentless as he licks and sucks your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.
You're practically crying from how intense it feels and when he slips his tongue inside of you, it hurdles you over the edge. Bucky doesn't stop, his low groan vibrates through your core and makes you scream and squirt all over his face.
"Bucky! Bucky oh, my g- oh, fuck! Baby please!"
He finally lets you go and pulls his face away so he can look at you. His chin is shining from your cum and it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen. There's still a dull, pounding heat and your eyes fill with tears as your hand works its way to rub your clit again.
"B-Bucky…"
He shushes you and lifts you into his arms, "shh, I've got you, doll. I know, I know it hurts, but I'll make it better, okay?"
You nod and grab onto his shoulders as he pushes you against the wall. His kiss is needy and rough as his cock stretches your pussy.
Bucky can't fuck you fast enough. He's never been more feral for anyone than he is right now. His body pins you to the wall, his mouth ravishes your exposed skin in open-mouthed kisses, and the way your velvety cunt pulls him in is intoxicating.
"Oh, baby," he groans deeply, "you feel so fuckin' good… taking my cock so well…"
"Harder, Bucky!" You cry out and throw your head back, his metal hand coming up to close around your throat.
"Yeah, princess? You need me to fuck this little pussy harder?" He grips your side with his free hand, his hips pistoning upward with reckless abandon. "I'm gonna ruin you, doll. No one else will ever fuck you like this."
"Oh, shit! Bucky! I-I'm gonna cum! You're gonna make me cum oh, my god!"
He squeezes your throat a little tighter and kisses you vigorously, "yeah, that's it, pretty girl…cum…cum all over my cock."
His words are like a trigger, sending you over the edge for a third time, and it's intensity makes little spots dance in your vision. Bucky's release is right behind yours, his legs shaking as he cums with an animalistic shout.
Bucky pants wetly against your lips and lets his metal arm slide down to grab your other hip. He turns around and sinks down to the floor with you in his lap, his cock slowly softening inside of you.
Your still shaking as you lay limp in his arms, his fingertips rubbing lightly up and down your back. It's quiet other than your breathing and you realize that you finally feel relief.
You raise your head to thank him, but before you can, the door is blown off its hinges and hits the wall behind you making you jump.
Bucky wraps his flesh arm protectively around you and raises his metal one to block the debris. He pulls you off of him and stands to put himself between you and whatever’s behind the dissolving dust. Naked or not, he won't let anyone hurt you.
"Buck? Oh, thank god we found y-...wait, why don't you have clothes on? What's going on?" Steve gazes from him, to the yellow pollen-like substance on the floor, and back to Bucky. He's thoroughly confused until he notices you behind his best friend. He shakes his head and chuckles to himself.
"I don't know what happened in here, but whatever it was I'm glad you two aren't at each other's throats anymore. The tension was getting to be too much, so I guess all I have to say is…
It's about damn time."
#j snow writes#kinktober2022#buckybarnesbingo#badthingshappenbingo#kinktober 2022#buckybarnesbingo2022#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#bucky fluff#bucky fic#bucky fanfic#beefy bucky#bucky smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes x you#james buchanan barnes x reader#sergeant barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes x reader#sergeant bucky barnes#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes
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Sapphic Kinktober
Okay ya'll! Let's talk Sapphic Kinktober <3
Plz remember that I cannot make any promises about how well I'll stick to this, but I would love to provide for the queer girls out there who wanna read about their faves this month.
What I need from you guys is to send me some kinks you'd like to see me cover this month, and with whom you'd like to see it with! I'll list the characters I'll write for in just a moment, and I'll list some kinks I'm already thinking of.
I'll also add that smut writing isn't something I've been doing for very long, and while I like to read some pretty kinky shit, i'm not sure how I feel about writing super kinky shit. So if you suggest something truly wild, I may love it, but may not write it. At least not at this point in my writing! Who knows what Kinktober 2024 will bring!
Okay so.. here are the kinks/themes I'll have for this list:
Face sitting
Thigh riding
Spanking
Brat taming
Choking
Bondage
Virginity
Toys
Mommy kink
Exhibitionism/Voyeurism
Overstimulation
Double penetration
Humiliation/Degradation
Praise
Hate sex
Okay, that's about half of what I need for 31 days of kinks! Shoot me some ideas. If anything, I also don't mind repeating some kinks :)
Characters I'll be writing for:
Manon Blackbeak
Elide Lochan
Nesta Archeron
Elain Archeron
Mor
Zoya Nazyalensky
Alina Starkov
I realize this isn't a very long list, but these are all characters that are of age and that I feel like I could write well. So of course these characters will be repeated several times!
Let me know what kinks you'd like to see with them this month!
#sarah j maas#throne of glass#kinktober#manon blackbeak#acotar#shadow and bone#a court of thorns and roses#sapphic smut#zoya nazyalensky#alina starkov#nesta archeron#elain archeron#mor#elide lochan#mor x reader#manon blackbeak smut#zoya nazyalensky x reader#manon blackbeak x reader#sapphic fantasy#nesta archeron x reader
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