#listen long hair gives you a frame gives you movement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anantaru · 7 months

Text

DAY 8 — DOGGY STYLE / ASS LOVERS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — diluc, albedo, cyno, scaramouche

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, they need to touch your ass!!! they’re obsessed, doggy & prone bone, they are all ass men <3 it‘s confirmed trust me i‘m hoyo

𖧡 — DILUC

the lucid sense of domination you could feel whenever you're slotted underneath diluc's body was always there and on plain sight— with your ass being forthrightly presented to him, just the way he liked it.

for clarification, it wasn't a secret to you anymore that he was obsessed with your ass and touching it for that matter, whilst watching you perk your behind up for him, waiting on all fours— it's mouth watering to say the least and the vermillion haired man plants his hands against the fat of your ass immediately, hissing in deep puffs when he first presses the tip of his cock against your warm pussy, your body relaxing, aflame under his scorching trace.

"diluc.." you whine out, your face burning as you're being pushed around back and forth the bed— he's already so warm inside of you, and this position just made him feel even hotter whilst rubbing his shaft against your sore walls.

"you're— you're so good to me.."

at your luscious choice of wording, with your helpless utters being high on his blows and needy for more, the force of his hips suddenly picks up as diluc continues to listen to how you're saying his name, or well, moan it for him to eagerly listen to— frankly, it makes his cock even harder when you're vocal, his dick jutting all up inside, causing you to feel full.

he gasps, noticing the skin on your hole tightening, "fuck— i need you to say that again.." and it's so hard to keep himself from just cumming early on and spilling all of himself inside, to soothe the twitching burn in your heat and warm you up in such special way.

you whine, a sound all desperate and eager to please him, "y-you're so good to me." you say once more, noticing his grip tensing on your flesh, tracing his cock over your delicate sweet spots as if he wanted to have him size embedded on your cunt forever, the fast rolls of his hips pistoling you towards the edge of release.

"my love.." he grumbles from behind, slanting his body forward whilst wrapping one strong arm around your frame, his movements now becoming a dab sloppier, somewhat careless and messy, yet do not get fooled— because you see, his enduring strength never falters, it's growing behind every thrust and remains on its place as you need to take it all, your ass smacking back at his hips, whilst needful moans and praises leave both of your darling lips.

𖧡 — ALBEDO

you attempt to watch as best as you possibly could from a position such as this one, focusing back while albedo was putting formidable pressure on your ass before listlessly shifting one large pillow under your hips, so you could relax your muscles with your behind being perfectly shaped for him, staying in place so he needn't worry and can go all out on you.

from the grip on your plushy behind, he gives it another strong squeeze before his palms begin to ghost over your lower back, suddenly adding his weight on top, his hips now beginning to shift forward so he could sink himself inside your hole— very much aware on how long you have been waiting for this to happen with your sopping cunt fluttering around sheer air, clamping and letting go again, aching for something to fill it, someone for that matter.

he starts with one inch before adding another of his cock splitting you apart effortlessly, the stretch consisting of a mild burn that developed into a mind-numbing euphoria that touched the deepest ends of your nerves, and albedo pauses for a moment just to be sure, being aware that having you pushed into such position made you extra tight for him, your warm walls constricting against his shaft so agonizingly cramped that he feels like he was about to explode.

"you're... so tight." he grunts, experimentally wiggling his hips to find the right spot, "it's even tighter like this." he notes and it doesn't even surprise you anymore on how vocal he could become— at the same time, you could also debate that it's an abysmal habit from his work as an alchemist, which was demanding him to write down every last one of his experiments— or in this silly case, how well his cock felt whilst deeply pushed into you.

"how's that?" he mutters again, warm puffs of air touching the film of the sweat on your neck before he glides a long, deep spot on your walls, your thighs beginning to strain at how he handled you, never stilling his movements and examining several reactions your body made to the heightened breathing exiting past your parted lips to the pitchy tone color of your broken whines.

you cry out, little, shaky pants evidently notable when he nudges your cheek with his nose all sweetly, a grin on his face signalizing his happiness and gratefulness to this moment.

"it's perfect..bedo.." you mumble, your lower lip trembling as your pussy lubricates his girth with your arousal, a ring of whites lacing the skin on his shaft as your complete frame quivers under him the moment he throbs inside at your whistling affirmations, a mirage of dense clouds fogging his mind from the feeling of doing everything right, pleasing you just the perfect way.

𖧡 — CYNO

"you.." a gaping, gritty whine slithers over cyno's lips, trickling undermost the silhouette of his warm heaves before he leans his weight down on your back, to nibble on your shoulder, ghosting over the skin with his white canines.

the tone of him, it never changes, and he continues, "this feels so good, baby." mumbling again, smearing messy, wet kisses along your flesh while becoming quite irritated on the lack of responses coming from you— without realizing that you're practically crumbling under the heaviness of his cock crowding your clamping walls, "you.. you feel amazing."

granted, it's silly— and somewhat cute of him, when cyno gets so overwhelmed with the pressure building inside his stomach whenever he fucks you, it's almost as if he can see the twist form on itself, together with the force of his strong hips pistoling past the desperate grip of your walls, keeping your body steady while your bodies moves as one.

and don't get him wrong but there was nothing better than looking at your hazy facial expressions or your misty eyes, consistently fusing into a stronger version whenever he paces his hips a little faster, glancing down at your cunt flooded by his erection before spitting down to lubricate you further, again then— becoming rougher so you could scream his name how much you wanted to, so he could listen to you beg him to finally make you cum.

on the other hand, he loves watching your ass tightly squeezed against him, or how you're able to grind eagerly into his touch whilst holding onto the head board for your dear life, swallowing his cock back each time he drums himself inside— with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, able to just stroke the flesh of your ass and pull you into his cock with it, his strokes long and steady taking your breath away.

you make an affirmative noise, it being the only thing you could say as a large hand rubs over your thigh. cyno presses forward and buried his face in your neck, mouth open, almost feral alike rocking his hips, his cock slipping out with a slick noise as you welcome him all lovingly.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

there was no other way as to go on about that particular matter, but scaramouche always has to have his eager hands on your plump ass— or moreover look at it, even better when it's tightly pressed against his hips so he can easily fuck into you, together with watching how the fat of your behind messily nudges and sticks on his skin due to your pussy drooling of your slick.

how he needs to spill himself on top of your ass and lower back when you cry out in babbled whines, curse out at the overstimulation taking a heavy impact on your frame as he allows your cunt to milk him forever, noticing the strong grip of your pussy tightening ever so slightly on his shaft, holding him in before softening again so he could press his dick inside, all inches sheathed while you're greedily taking him.

his cock effortlessly spreads you, his broken grunts untangling butterflies inside your belly as he shivers at each new quiver of your walls around his dick. "you know you can talk, right?" scaramouche rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue whole his hips buck hard against your bristling heat, noticing how you yelp in a tireless bliss touching the edge of your pleasure spots.

without pretence— you're not entirely sure if he's saying that to tease you or have you agitated, since scaramouche knew how much you hated it whenever he edged you on, maybe ripped you off an orgasm because he liked the way you tend to beg for it afterwards. or if he really cannot see that you're actually struggling to even breathe out in an even matter, with his hips being consistent in their blows, unwavering, making it to say something coherent even a greater task.

"fuck.. kuni please don't tease me now." you breathe, hiccuping over your utters, noticing his warm breath fanning across your back, his nose tickling your neck, grinning at the little moans that leave your lips and oh, he has you spiraling now but hey, at least you're trying to meet his demands.

now, you're keeping yourself in place to move your body as one with his own, penetrative squelching noises reverberating off the walls as the flushed, leaking tip of his cock crowds the burning ends of you, kuni's palm itching to feel the soft trace of your ass again, or the trembles of your entire body resounding over his— the slick slides of wet skin on wet skin invading his ears.

maybe he won‘t be mean tonight after all and let you have it for once, and fuck— he’s immediatly noticing how he’s succumbing to his one and only weakness, which was you— at last, choosing his enchanting darling over his ego.

3K notes · View notes

mariasont · 14 days

Text

Negotiating with Mr. H - pt. 2

a/n: part two to this

god im such a shluuuut for this man anyhow happy reading

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v (DONT DO THAT, boo tomatoes), use of sir and mr. hotchner in bed, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, honey, etc.), idk im terrible at warnings

wc: 2k

The hours had stretched into days since you all but threw yourself at Mr. Hotchner. The morning after unfolded with him dodging your company as if you were a wildfire, claiming a day at the zoo with Jack as a shield, yet you saw it as a deliberate distance he put between you. No sooner had they returned, the call for a case arrived. Typical.

But you found no room for embarrassment within yourself; you had played your hand, and he had been receptive, at least so you thought. If he had changed his mind, that was within his right; still, you wished he'd say something about it.

Your fingers tenderly combed through Jack's hair, the soft strands slipping between them, as you gently closed the book, careful not to wake him. He had a nightmare, but you soothed away the scary bits with 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar', as you coaxed him back to sleep. It was his go-to comfort read--and secretly, yours too. You eased your legs over the edge, each step a muted brush against the carpet. You flicked off the light, the soft thud of the book on the nightstand, and you stepped into the hallway--the door sealing behind you softly.

You moved with soft steps towards your room, hands outstretched as they found the doorknob, pushing it open with the slightest pressure. You froze mid-step, the distinct click of the front door's latch piercing the silence. Subconsciously, a plan formed in your mind, as if waiting for this cue. You made a beeline for the closet, fingers flying as you shimmied into your favorite panties and a cropped white long sleeve that highlighting your stiffening nipples. Listening intently for the sound of his footsteps, you slid under the sheets, the door left invitingly open, your legs peeking out as if by chance.

Was this wrong? Certainly, but the blood rushing to your cunt didn't care. You were acutely aware of each groan from the wooden steps under his weight as he made his way upstairs, and you could almost catch the hush of his breath as he lingered at Jack's room, the door's creak broadcasting his quiet check.

You snapped your eyes shut, the sound of his nearing steps triggering an automatic response. You knew he'd have to pass your room to get to his. Every sense tingled to life as his footsteps hesitated at your door. Even with your back facing him, you felt his eyes roam over you, his breath turning heavy, hanging in the air.

You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling it vibrate through the stillness as he continued on to his room. The urge to swear was heavy on your tongue, the realization dawning that your plan had left no impression on him. You turned restlessly, feeling the bite of your failed efforts. Yet, when you propped yourself up, there he was--Mr. Hotchner, standing motionless in the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Hotchner! I--I didn't realize you were home. How was the case?" Your question floated on a note higher than usual, yet you made no move to hide your body from him, welcoming the observation.

"Really? You didn't hear me? I could have sworn I heard movement in your room as I came in," he remarked, his piercing gaze locking onto you as he casually propped himself against the frame of the door.

"Movement? Could've been the wind," you suggest, your smile bright and inviting, arms falling away to give him a full display of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

His response is brief, a deliberate blink, a silent count to ten, before his gaze sharpens, a frown forming as he closes the distance between you, the door shutting behind him. "The wind, huh?" he echoed, "I've been neck-deep in a nightmare of case, and this is what I come home to?"

You maneuver closer, your legs now casually exposed as you perch on the bed's edge. "What's wrong, Mr. Hotchner? Don't appreciate the view?"

His presence fills the space by your bed. "The view," he begins, his eyes taking a leisurely journey from your exposed legs up to meet your gaze, "is more than agreeable."

You hand snakes out, catching the silk of that god damn tie, drawing him closer. "Well. Mr. Hotchner, aren't you going to do something about this agreeable view?" you challenge, eyes wide and expectant.

Assertively, he captures your chin, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You should know by now, I'm very much a man of action."

He leans down, a predator claiming his willing prey, and his mouth captures yours in a kiss that sends a surge of electricity through your veins, your fingers curling into the fabric of his suit as if the meld him into you. The way his lips were attached to yours sent shockwaves straight to your core, hands moving from his lapels to his hair.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Hotchn--," you mumbled against his mouth, but you were swiftly cut off as his teeth dug into your bottom lip.

"The next time you say my name, it's going to be when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can't form anything else but that name."

And in that moment, you could've sworn you'd never felt desire until he said those words. He began to trail sloppy kisses up your neck, your head arching back, surrendering to the sweet attention he lavished upon the column of your throat. There was a quiet authority in his actions, as he parted your thighs, his fingers grazing closer to your clothed cunt as his other hand pushed you flat against the bed.

A gasp fluttered from your lips, a delicate sound of shock. You would've never pegged him to be like this in bed. So fucking demanding. Your thighs instinctively sought each other, but his large hand held them apart, keeping you open, vulnerable.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, wide and brimming with lust, and it reflected a beauty so intense he was sure it could halt time. He was sure he must've done something right in this life to be privileged enough to see you like this—so submissive despite your big talk, so eager to please. It sent a rush to every part of his body, specifically his cock which stretched against his dress pants, begging to be released.

He wanted to take his time, to worship your body in the way it deserved, but there was nothing slow or soft about his movements. His hands explored every inch of your body as if he'd been touch starved his whole life.

"Pl-Please, sir, please touch me," you begged, your hips bucking against the graze of his hands.

The word 'sir' triggered a slight twitch in his cock, his voice a throaty rumble. "Feel that? I'm touching you, honey," he teased, his touch a tantalizing drag against your skin, inching your shirt upward, a smug smile etched on his handsome face.

"You know what I mean," you insisted, your hand intertwining with his in a silent plea, guiding them to where you wanted.

"I can't read your mind, sweetheart," he chides softly, his touch retreating teasingly, "be a good girl and tell me where you want me to touch you."

Your mind was going blank, so desperate for him you could almost feel your arousal leaking down your thighs.

"Here?" he questioned, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he propped them on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs spread wide in front of him. You shook your head in response, a whine leaving your lips, "or here," he said, his hands moving up to your thighs.

You wiggled in his grip. "Mmm, getting closer aren't I?" he taunted, "use your words pretty girl, tell me how to help."

"Mr. Hotchner, please, need you inside me," your words were more slurred than you intended, sitting up to lock your hands behind his neck, your breath fanning his.

"You don't need it, you want it," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his arm a steady band across your back, pulling you closer. "However, lucky for you, I'm inclined to be generous."

His hands eased you back towards the bed, your hands fingering through his hair as he made quick work with your underwear before tapping your shirt. "Take this off honey."

Without hesitation, you complied, flinging it carelessly to the bed's opposite edge, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows.

"God, you're so beautiful."

The words seemed to empty your lungs of air, your face turning a delicate shade of pink as you beamed at him, your smile sticky with sweetness. His fingers found your nipples, teasing and tugging as you let out soft little whimpers, arching into his touch.

"Feels so good, sir," you moaned, hands digging into the sheets, leaning towards him to close the distance between you two, your lips seeking his in a tender collision.

You could sense his mouth curve into a silent smirk against yours as his hands moved with unhurried intent to your swollen clit, eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as you writhed on the mattress. You could hear his other hand undoing his belt as his continued his leisurely movements against your cunt. In a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled out his cock from his pants.

Your mouth parted slightly at the length of it, and you had to fight off the urge to drool at the sight. Thankfully he didn't make you beg for it, sliding into you with an ease that made your head fall back against the mattress.

"Shit," he hissed, his hands finding a natural perch upon the gentle swell of your hips. "You're so wet, honey. How long have you wanted this? Hmm?"

"S-So long," you muttered, a moan pausing your sentence, "wanted you for so long."

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, his words interlaced with the obscene sound of his length pounding in and out of your drenched pussy.

"Feels so good, Mr. Hotchner."

He let out a soft groan in response, his hands tangling through your hair. Your name rolled off his tongue as you clenched around him. He had to move his hands to the bed beside your head, trying to resist the urge to absolutely destroy you.

Your moans heightened with each thrust causing his hand to fly over your mouth, eyes rolling back to your head. "Need you to be quiet, honey. You can do that for me can't you?"

You nodded desperately against his palm, hands reaching out to close around his shoulders as you moved to meet his thrusts, the familiar coil beginning to wind in your core.

"I know you're close, sweetheart. Need you to hold on just a little longer."

He let out a breathy chuckle at your body's reaction, desperately bucking against him. Hotch revealed in the sound of your pussy squishing around him, so wet you're practically soaking his dress pants.

Your slur his name as he reaches between you, his thumb rubbing feverishly at your clit. "Go ahead, honey, cum for me."

His words were all you needed, gushing around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your high. He let out a strangled groan of his own, pumping you full of his cum. His large body slumped against yours, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.

He slowly lifted off of you, tucking his cock back into his pants as moved to grasp your ankle, rubbing comforting circles over the skin.

"Tell me, was that personal bonus sufficient for you?"

Your giggle, light and airy, filled the space as you gingerly lifted yourself, hands laying a gentle claim on his chest, your smile blooming across your lips. It was in this moment he knew he would do anything to keep you like this--content, utterly fucked and next time in his bed.

"Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Hotchner," you admit, your kiss on his cheek lingering a moment longer. "I work really hard around here, maybe another round would satiate me."

"I don't know think anything would satiate you, honey."

"Maybe so, but isn't it tempting to see if something can?"

"Undoubtedly."

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchenr imagine #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch #Spotify

494 notes · View notes

keeplcving · 3 months

Text

ultraviolence.

(politician!coriolanus x innocent!f!reader)

summary: he may keep hurting you, but something keeps you from leaving .

tw: coryo is NOT a good person at all here. no delusion about it. was listening to lana and couldn’t help but write this. cw: 18+! name calling, slapping, fingering, semi-public sex, creampie, pet names (love, dove, darling, etc.), fingering, breeding kink, manipulation, threats. lmk if i missed something!

You didn’t think you were doing anything wrong, not truly. Just a little teasing never hurt your man, right? Sure, it was a very publicized gala, but Coryo was your man. It’s what wives do for husbands.

It started out like most nights. You got ready for a public outing, doing your hair and makeup to the nines, dressing to impress your husband. You couldn’t find yourself giving a damn about what Panem had to say about how you looked, only your husband. You even put on the dress he requested, sans the panties he had asked you to wear. It would be a nice surprise, right?

“Darling,” Coryo starts, rubbing his hand slowly up under the edge of your dress as you sat on his lap, smiling politely to all the guests around you. You looked so overwhelmed, and he would do the good husbandly thing, help you take the edge off.

“Yes, Coryo?” You gently responded, body already responding to his ministrations, and you couldn’t wait for him to find out the secret you had planned for him. He drew in a short breath as he reached further, expecting the barrier of your panties, instead, finding nothing blocking him from your wet cunt.

“What’s this, my little dove?” He asks you, more gently than you had assumed he would. You had intended to rile him up, get him to act a little rough with you. He had been having a long, difficult week, and you had wanted him to take his frustrations out on you. It was what a good wife did for her husband.

“Your surprise, my love.” You told him, wriggling a bit in his lap at the feeling of his long fingertips brushing up against your core.

“You know I don’t prefer it when you leave our home without panties on, my love.” He harshly gripped your thigh, seizing his movement near where you wanted it most.

“I know, but I wanted to upset you. I want you to take your anger out on me. I know my darling husband has had an awful week, and I wanted to be your outlet.” You told him, smirking when he looked flustered at your words.

“Oh, so you wanted to be a little whore.” He released his harsh grip on your thigh, instead choosing to grasp your small arm with his large hand. So large in fact, that his hand fit all the way around your arm.

He left no room for argument, forcing you to stand up, then he followed suit, practically dragging you to a private bathroom. Locking the door, his eyes met yours for the first time since discovering your secret.

He stalked up to you, towering over your small frame. He was nearly a foot taller than you, and you knew he could do just about anything to you, and you would have no power to stop it. But why would you? You’re his lovely little wife, sometimes he needs to punish you to keep you in line.

He reached his hand up, and slapped you. You recoiled at first, the pain of the blow almost too much for you to handle. But you deserved it. You upset your husband, and he was just keeping you in line. You almost wanted to moan, the pain you received from your husband was almost equal to the pleasure you received from him. He made sure of that early on in the relationship.

“I’m sorry, Coryo.” You apologized, reaching up to where he had slapped, feeling the heat of the impact.

“It’s alright, my dove. I just expected more from you, you know.” That was what you hated most about his punishing, knowing that he had excepted better of you, and you had failed to meet his expectations.

You said nothing, waiting for him to make the next move. You didn’t want to disappoint him further, because you know if you did, you would begin to cry. All you wanted was to please him, and earn his approval.

He harshly spun you around, unbuttoning the dress he had chosen for the evening, the buttons reaching all the way down to the top of your ass, which is how he preferred the dresses be styled.

“I know you were just trying to be so, so good for me, my love.” He said, petting your hair lightly, before yanking to dress off, down your legs, before throwing it away somewhere you couldn’t see.

“This won’t fully be a punishment, as I know my good girl is in there. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.” He said with a sigh, unbuttoning his slacks, pulling them down with his boxers just enough that his cock sprung out, already painfully hard for you.

You had thought he was going to start fucking you right away, but you had been wrong. He gently slipped his fingers in between your legs, circling your clit with a few harsh movements. You let out a breathy, high pitched moan in delight, not expecting him to give you any pleasure whatsoever. After all, you hadn’t respected his wishes.

“My dove, moaning so beautifully for me. I’m so very lucky that you haven’t left me. I know you’ve written your parents, wondering about leaving, and going home. I’m so glad you haven’t, otherwise I would have to find you, and punish you worse than I ever have.” He surprise you with his statement. You didn’t know he knew about the letters you had written, as you had asked one of the avoxes to discreetly send them. You should’ve known better, not to trust the avoxes when it came to Coriolanus.

You just moaned in response, writhing around in a pitiful attempt in gaining more friction. Coriolanus tsk’d you, grasping your thigh with his free hand. “No, my love. You only get what I give you. You belong to me.”

You gasped at his comment, stilling immediately. You wanted nothing more to please him tonight, and if he told you that he didn’t want you to move, you wouldn’t move a muscle.

“Good girl.” He harshly whispered into your head, slipping two of his fingers into your tight heat. “I’m prepping you for my cock, little one. I know you wouldn’t be ready for it yet, as much as I want you to.”

He roughly thrusted his fingers directly into that spongy spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. You had tried yourself, never being able to reach it. You almost felt ill, knowing that only he could provide you the pleasure you so desperately needed.

Your moans grew louder, and more needier, the more he thrusted his long fingers into your g-spot. “Please, Coryo. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never betray you again. I’ll never leave you, I love you. I’ll listen to you. Please, let me come.” You begged, waiting for his permission. You never allowed yourself to let go without his permission, otherwise he wouldn’t touch you for a week. You learned this early in the relationship, when you had come on his fingers without him allowing you, and then had scheduled two business trips to the districts back to back, not allowing you to see him for nearly a month.

“Please, please, please!” Your begging was almost a high pitched screech, as he plowed his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

“You may let go, little one.” He told you, almost sounding upset with how quickly you needed to come. He usually liked to edge you, make you wait until you damn near squirted into his palm, but today, he just wanted to fuck you.

You let go instantly, coming so hard you had begun to see stars in your vision, slumping back against his strong chest. “Good girl, waiting for my permission.” Coriolanus said, pressing a firm kiss against the top of your head. You blushed, loving when he gave you small bits of affection like that post orgasm.

He gave you a moment, letting your breathing return to normal, before slotting his cock between your legs, and inside of you. You let out a small moan in surprise, quickly standing back up to your full height as he maneuvered you to lean against the sink, hands gripping the marble.

“My girl.” He said matter of factly, thrusting roughly into you, hips bouncing off of your ass. He reached his hand around to grip your throat as he thrusted, squeezing just enough that your airflow had just begun to become restricted. He knew you liked this, whether you admitted it, or not.

He wasn’t much of a talker during sex, only grunts about you being his, and animalistic groans as you squeezed your tight cunt around his thick cock. You were much more vocal, letting out high pitched moans and noises of pleasure, encouraging him to go harder and faster.

“Fuck, yes! Harder, my love. I know you want to.” You moaned out, purposefully squeezing yourself tighter around him, knowing it drove him crazy. “Only you can make me feel like this. Only my Coryo can do this to me.”

He groaned at your words, doubling down on his thrusts, gripping your throat harder, almost choking you. “Yes, little dove. Only I can do this to you, that’s right.” He responded. You could feel him quickly reaching his peak, so you tightened more. You wanted his come, leaking out of you, staining your skin. He had been begging you for an heir, and you thought about letting him. Even though you knew if you allowed him to get you pregnant, you would never be able to leave. The thought scared you, but your love for him overpowered any doubts.

“Fuck a baby into me, Coryo.” You told him, testing the waters, trying to see what his reaction would be. You had never told him that before.

“Fuck!” He responded, thrusting harder and more rapidly than you had thought possible. “I will put my heir in you. Mine. My girl, big and round with my baby. My baby.” He grunted, before spurting deep inside your womb. At the feeling of his spend inside of you, you came too, moaning.

He pulled out, grinning at you as he tucked himself back into his slacks. He scooped his come back into your cunt with his fingers, making sure that it was deep inside of you. He truly wanted that heir, and he would use any means of getting that heir from you.

“You’re my good little dove, you know that.” He started, petting your head gently as you still were coming down from your orgasm. He found your dress, carefully putting your legs into it, one at a time, and gently pulling it back on.

“But if you disrespect me again, I won’t be as nice as I was tonight.”

©keeplcving 2024

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fic

710 notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 5 months

Text

sejanus is a gentle lover ... for the most part. 18+ & cw for choking

he’s a hand holder so he can soothingly rub circles on the back of your hand, or press his lips to each of your knuckles as you’re speaking to him.

he touches you like you’re made of fine china that his mother values. like you’re a family heirloom that he appreciates too much to firmly grasp. his hands instead gently glide over you, using nothing but his fingertips at times.

he slowly rocks his hips into yours with deep and long thrusts as he makes love to you at night. that’s always what it is, love making. the declaration often spoken into the air during the act, easily reciprocated from you as you take what he gives you.

and you like it this way. you’re happy. but sejanus needs to realize that you’re not made of china. you can take a lot more than he realizes. you want to take more than he realizes. you want to take something rougher, something grittier. something that’ll leave more than a giddy feeling in your stomach the next morning.

and it takes loads of convincing. as soon as you ask for it, sejanus disagrees. his tough “no” shocks you. it makes you ask for him to repeat himself, only for the words to be spoken just as clear as before.

he reasons that he won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking for. and it takes a long time for you to make him understand that he wouldn’t be hurting you, not when it’s something you desperately want. it takes even longer for him to warm up to the idea, and it’s not implemented for a while longer.

not until sejanus is fed up, pacing around your bedroom as he rants about his frustrations with his father and the capitol and with the fact that no one other than you is willing to listen to him. and you’re there, rubbing his back, scratching the short trimmed hairs of the back of his head with your nails while you coo in his ear. he calms down just enough for you to suggest him letting his physical frustration out, smiling kindly at him to hint that you want him to let it out on you.

which brings you to getting what you wanted. and it feels even better than you could’ve imagined. sejanus just short of taking what he wants, repeatedly asking you if you’re okay even as his cock drives deep into you with harsh thrusts, ones that have you accidentally fleeing up against the bed. he keeps you as still as he can with a hand on your hip, pulling your ass flush to his pelvis which does nothing but make you feel his thrusts even more.

“you like this?” he asks you, mostly as reassurance but it comes out demeaning. a little teasing, as if you’re wrong to like being used by your boyfriend like this. you nod, eyes squeezed shut for only a few seconds because then, sejanus is asking in his usual kind voice that you open your eyes and look at him.

his hair grown out a little at the tops, dangling over his forehead and bouncing with each of his movements. his big brown eyes lidded, halved in size as they stare at your frame. his pink lips parted and a little swollen from the way he’d kissed you earlier, hungry and desperate and appreciative. you can see his ends unraveling, even despite his clear desire to weave them back together. you like him like this, he looks godlike, and in this moment there's nothing more you want than to see sejanus completely unravel.

but you're so close, and he's making you feel so good, and you reason that it's best to focus on yourself.

you reach a hand out, wrapping it around the hand sejanus has on your hip. he lets you manipulate his touch, allowing you to bring his hand up to around your neck where he wraps his digits around the skin. not squeezing, just resting there with a weight that grounds you. your eyes flutter shut, you push your hips even more into sejanus', helplessly bucking and grinding against his pelvis as you near your peak.

"god, sejanus, i love you so much."

the words tumble out without you even realizing, each syllable so used to rolling off of your tongue that it doesn't sound foreign. even in these circumstances, as sejanus is fucking you unlike he's done anytime before. when you crane your eyes open, he's smiling down at you, maybe comforted by the words he knows so well, because as he leans down to press his lips against yours, his hold on your neck tightens at the sides and he pistons deep into you.

when you mewl and whine against his lips, sejanus' smile grows.

#sejsworld!#sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth fluff #sejanus plinth #celeste writes thg

794 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Note

Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!

Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??

I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.

—Love Echoes In Silence

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs.

You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen.

So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air.

Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside.

Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame.

He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot.

Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home.

You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.

“Mornin’,” Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest.

“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?”

He hums, squeezing you gently.

“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling.

“Phillip, I just got up.”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”

“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way.

“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”

All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.

628 notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 7 months

Text

Oh dear sweet god

Why do I do this to myself

This goof has such a chokehold on my heart I just CANNOT

Working on P is for Public of ABC's of Kink, but it's getting split into two. Part one is SFW, part 2 will be very much NSFW. Already working in it and planning to have it up tonight.

And awaaaaay we gooo—

I lied part 3 will be NSFW don't hurt me

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 here

Series: ABC's of Kink

Letter: P is for Public

Wordcount: 2.7k

Tags: SFW, NSFW (part 3 only), fluff, hurt/comfort other stuff maybe

LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Dear gods I loved writing this one

To say you were in a pickle would have been a grievous understatement.

You and a close friend had been caught sneaking around a Marine base after getting the bright idea to break into their treasury vault. For a few years since your father's death you had been down on your luck, and it had seemed a quick ticket to dragging yourself out of the gutter. You had become over that time a particularly skilled thief, and the training you had recieved from your father in blades, not to mention the pair of cutlasses he had smithed for you, didn't hurt your chances.

And you had been forced to give yourself up after your friend was killed while resisting arrest.

Thrown onto a Marine ship bound for Impel Down, locked in the brig with your hands and feet bound in irons. No family, no friends, set to rot for at least the next few years in prison, if not for the rest of your life.

You were fairly certain your situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

The officer guarding the brig was leaning against the desk across from the stairs that led up to the main deck of the ship, polishing his rifle with a rag and gun oil and whistling to himself. He had an easy enough time of it—you were the only prisoner there, and you weren't bothering to give him a hard time. You had been aboard the damnable ship for three days, stiff and sore from your limited range of movement in the heavy shackles clamped around your wrists and ankles, the gravity of your situation weighing heavily on you, and there really wasn't any fight left in you.

Sudden shouting from the deck overhead made him pause and look up the stairs, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cap as you both listened.

"Open fire!"

"Pirates!"

"All hands! Man the guns!"

The officer glanced into your cell, shouldering his rifle as he tossed his rag on the desk and pointed at you.

"Not a peep, wench."

You just leaned back against the wall of the cell with a sigh. "Yup."

So your situation could get worse. Wonderful.

The ship rattled and shook, the cannon fire making your ears ring. Bits of the ceiling fell into the cell around you. You flinched when a hole was blown through the wall of the cell next to your own, the cannon ball rolling across the floor and clanging against the bars. Rather than rotting in prison, you were just flat out going to die.

A fitting end for a miserable few years.

And then all at once, you heard another voice call for ceasefire. The cannon fire stopped first, and slowly the sounds of fighting on the deck above your head fell into relative silence, peppered with animated chatter and laughter.

That could only mean one thing—the Marines had lost.

And your suspicions were confirmed when, a few minutes later, one of the senior cadets on board burst through the doors and sprinted down the stairs into the brig in an outright panic, whimpering, attempting to draw his pistol with shaking hands—but not before he was followed by a broad-shouldered man with a long black ponytail, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, holding a large rifle with one hand and leveling the barrel between the young Marine's eyes.

The pirates had won. You weren't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Oh, don't shoot the kid, Benn, just get him restrained."

You watched another pirate stroll down the stairs and lean into the wall at the edge of them, bright red hair framing his face, a long black cape hanging around one of his shoulders, and a pair of cutlasses slung over his shoulder—your cutlasses. He set them lightly on the desk and patted his crewmate on the shoulder a couple times as he passed.

There was only one man on the Grand Line that matched his description, and even having lived in a town too far inland to have had much experience with pirates, you had heard of him—Red-Haired Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, who held one of the highest bounties in the world.

"Be quicker to shoot him." Benn shrugged a shoulder. "Or just coldcock him over the head."

"Kid's probably already shit himself." Shanks grabbed a coil of rope from the wall and tossed it across to him. "No use adding injury to insult."

Benn rolled his eyes over toward his captain...and then his gaze flicked back a bit, landing on you as you glanced warily between him and Shanks. Benn gave a nod toward your cell, and your heart went from racing to ceasing entirely when Shanks turned his head and locked his gaze with your own.

He lifted his eyebrows a bit, his dark brown eyes glinting.

"Well, hello there." You swallowed as he approached the cell slowly. He wrapped his hand around one of the bars, leaning forward. Evidently your anxiousness was written all over your face, as he said next, reassuringly, "Don't worry love, we don't bite. Unless you make the idiot decision of opening fire on my ship," he added, raising his voice just a bit and tilting his head to look back at the Marine cadet, who was putting up absolutely no fight over having his hands tied behind his back now.

Shanks directed his gaze back over to you, flashing a charming grin. "So what're ya in for, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, and forced yourself to speak. "I—I, er—"

"She snuck into the base in Nanohana and attempted to break into the treasury vault," the cadet chimed in, and flinched as Benn shoved him down to sit against the wall.

He then grabbed the gun-oil rag from the desk and stuffed it in the cadet's mouth.

"Nobody asked you, kid," he said, leaning against the adjacent wall and crossing his arms, his rifle propped up against the wood paneling beside him.

Shank's grin only widened at that. "Did you really?" You nodded shortly, and he chuckled. "God, what a horrible crime," he went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Everyone knows the World Government is horrifically impoverished and doesn't have a single Berry to spare." He leaned a bit closer, resting his head against one of the iron bars. "How far did you get?"

"W...we had just gotten the vault open before we were surrounded," you said quietly. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, as they widened and his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, completely taken aback.

"Impressive," he said, his eyes passing over you slowly. He bit the corner of his lip thoughtfully, before his eyes returned to yours. "You said we. You have a crew?"

You shook your head. "It was just me and my friend. Well...more like my brother, really." Your eyes dropped to your knees for a moment. "He didn't make it," you said quietly, still not quite able to process it. Your best friend, your only friend, who you had known for twenty-three years, since you were a toddler.

Gone.

When you lifted your eyes back to the red-haired captain, his expression had softened considerably, mouth turned down in a small frown, his amusement replaced with genuine concern. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said gently. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow sigh, before flipping his cape out of the way and taking a seat on the floor—and you noticed with a bit of shock as the cloak shifted that the left sleeve of his loose white shirt was empty.

He rest his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin into his palm, hand curled over his mouth for a long moment.

"Arabasta is around three days from here," he said finally. "Provided the wind cooperates, and honestly we could do with making port. We'd be more than happy to take you home."

You swallowed, your heart still pounding, still anxious, but for a different reason now. This man, who didn't even know your name, who was gazing at you with a gentle compassion spread across his handsome features that you were entirely unaccustomed to, offering to go out of his way just to get you home—this man had a bounty of over three billion berries?

After a moment, you shook your head. "Wouldn't be much use," you said, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't exactly have a home."

"Any family?" You shook your head—your father's death had been wholly unexpected, and led ultimately to the closing of his smithy, where the two of you and your "brother"—his apprentice—had also lived. Within less than a month you had been on the streets. "Friends?"

His face fell a little more every time you shook your head no. He ran the pad of his index finger over the top of his lips, glancing briefly at Benn.

Back at you, looking at you almost like you were a poor, abandoned puppy he wanted to take home.

He glanced at Benn again, longer this time, until his first mate sighed, straightening out from the wall. "I'll figure out who's got the keys," he said, already starting toward the door.

"Good man."

From the slam you heard, you were fairly sure he kicked the door open at the top, and his voice boomed over the loght chatter on the deck.

"Alright, you assholes. I'm gonna ask one of you who's got the keys to the brig. I don't get an answer in ten seconds, you're getting an extra hole in your head, and I move onto the next guy."

Your eyes widened a little as you looked toward the stairs, moving back over to Shanks as he laughed a little.

"Has a real knack for subtlety, doesn't he?" he said with a crooked grin. He leaned back, planting his hand on the floor behind him. "Seems you have two options, love. You can stay here, with a bunch of tied up Marines who want to take you—where, Impel Down?" You nodded, and he returned the nod. "Or..." He cooked his head slightly to one side, his grin widening a little. "We can break you out of here and you can come with us."

You blinked a few times. "And...go where?" you said slowly.

Her shrugged a shoulder. "Wherever the wind and the waves carry us."

He was asking you to join his crew. You felt your eyes widen a bit, and Shanks laughed softly when he saw his meaning had sunk in.

"I'd choose the latter option, personally," he said. "Never hurts to have another good thief on board."

"You...can't really say I'm a good thief, given..." You glanced down pointedly at the iron shackles around your ankles. "Well, circumstances."

"Ah..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Everyone makes mistakes early in their career. How long have you been thieving?"

"Two years," you said. "Since my father died. Mostly just...pick-pocketing and sneaking money pouches off vendors. This was the first actual break-in."

His eyes widened a bit. "Your first actual break-in," he said slowly, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk, "was into a Marine base in a major city?"

You shrugged a shoulder, and nodded. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Oh, I like you," he said in a low, flirtatious tone, his eyes making a slow pass over you that made your heart speed up and blood rush to your cheeks. "So tell me, princess...." He finally leaned forward again, resting his arm across his knee, and went on with a debonair grin. "Is there a pretty name to go with that pretty face?"

You managed to stammer out your name, your eyes wide as saucers. His smile softened as he shook his head a little, his gaze locked firmly onto yours as he spoke one word softly.

"Beautiful."

You jumped when the door opened, and both of you looked over as Benn descended the stairs, flicking a spent cigarette butt at the Marine cadet still seated in the corner. He tossed a ring of keys over to Shanks.

"Already informed everyone we have a new thief on the crew," he said flatly, tossing a ring of keys over to Shanks.

Shanks swiped them out of the air, grinning. "And how do you know that? I don't recall telling you."

Benn gave him a look equally as flat as his tone.

"Oh, lighten up, you grumpy old bastard," said Shanks jovially, pulling himself to his feet. Your eyes were glued to the keys as he flipped one out and tried it in the cell lock.

It didn't open.

"So what're we doing about this?" said Benn, gesturing broadly. "Caravel full of tied up Marines. Sink her? Just leave her adrift?"

Shanks shrugged. "Might as well just leave it. Take anything that isn't nailed to the floor."

There was a muffled sound of protest in the corner, and both men turned their gaze to the cadet.

Shanks tried the second key, with no success, as the cadet managed to turn his head and tug the cloth out of his mouth with traction from the shoulder of his coat. "Y—you can't just—there's no telling when another Marine ship will come by!"

Shanks snorted. "Or another pirate ship." He flipped to the next key, smirking. "So you'd rather I sink her?"

"W—well, no, but—but we—"

Benn had evidently heard enough. He rolled his eyes as he stooped down to pick up the cloth, and the cadet's jaw snapped shut immediately. Sighing in irritation, he grabbed the kid by his nose and held his nostrils shut until he was forced to open his mouth to take a gasp of air.

And Benn immediately shoved the cloth back into his mouth, and pointed a finger an inch from his nose. "Do it again and it'll be the last thing you ever do. Got it?"

The cadet nodded quickly, his eyes wide circles of terror.

The third key turned, and the lock clicked. You expelled a heavy sigh of relief at the sound. Shanks chuckled lightly as he watched you lean your head back against the damp wall behind you. "No need to worry, love," he said, kneeling down at your feet and flipping to the attached set of smaller keys for the cuffs and shackles. "I can pick a lock when I need to." He freed the first one, leveling his eyes with yours, and a small shiver coursed up your spine as he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb briefly caressing your flushed cheek. "I'm not letting a few iron bars and chains keep me from you."

"Oh dear god," Benn grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes, and you almost giggled a little, biting your lip. The guy wasn't wrong, Shanks was laying it on pretty thick.

Though you weren't really complaining.

Shanks glanced back at him as he set to unlocking the second shackle, feigning surprise. "Oh, are you still here?" he said with a sarcastic smirk. He turned his attention back to the irons. "I fear I forgot there was anyone else in the room for a moment."

He glanced up and gave you a little wink before tossing the shackles away, and touched your shoulder lightly to indicate for you to lean forward so he could get to the cuffs wrapped around your wrists.

Benn leveled his eyes with yours, glancing at his captain, and gave a small snort of laughter. "Good luck."

And with that, he headed back up the stairs.

"Oh, don't listen to him, sweetheart."

Shanks chuckled, leaning over you to quickly unlock the shackles, so close you could feel the heat of his body, smell the leathery scent of his cologne mingling with a subtler hint of spiced rum. Your heart raced as he stood back up, dropped the cuffs, and held out his hand, smiling.

You hesitated for the briefest of moments, before placing your hand in his. He pulled you to your feet...and then flush against his chest, grinning as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I promise I'm perfectly harmless."

#opla #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #help i love him #one piece fan fiction #opla fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort

618 notes · View notes

jadewritesficshere · 11 months

Text

Wrecked

Eddie Munson x Reader

Content: oral (male receiving) slight sub!Eddie. Listen I just really wanna suck him

18+ only

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness in the room as the VHS shut off with a click. The light from the TV seemed harsh, jarring you from the quietness surrounding you. It woke you up from your sleepy state, heart thumping wildly as you realized you had fallen asleep against Eddie. Eddie, who talked a mile a minute and told you interesting facts while watching movies, who had gone silent almost an hour ago as you started to drift off. Eddie, who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, hand lazily drawing patterns on your arm where it rested. Your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. "Sorry," you yawned as you sat up," Did I fall asleep?"

Eddie blinked slowly before smiling," Don't worry 'bout it. You need to rest." You lazily smile at him as he stands up. He stretches slowly, joints popping that remind you that neither of you are near your teens anymore. He reaches his arms above his head in a stretch, shirt traveling up just enough to give you a sneak peak of his stomach. Pale skin that showed the stark colors of the dragon curled over the top of his belly button. The dragon that had it's mouth open as if it was blowing fire, fire that actually was pink scars courtesy of the demobats. The scars that he always had a different story for when people saw ("I got attacked by a bear." "A witch cursed me." "I didn't eat my vegetables." "I used to defuse bombs").

Your eyes caught on his belly button, the stupid piercing he got claiming "a dragon had to have a hoard". The blue light from the tv causing the jewelry to glint, showing a kaleidoscope of rainbows in the opal gemstones. Your breath caught at the smattering of hair that trailed down from his belly button. Down to the band of his sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Plaid boxers peeking over the hem of his pants obscured your view of the slight v shape of his hips. The TV light providing the perfect amount of light and shadow to show the slight definition of his abs he had gained from long hours as a mechanic.

The sting from biting your lip pulled you from your casual perusal of Eddie's frame. Eddie who hadn't even noticed and was waving his hands around talking as he stared off at the wall,"- but those are just rumors. I mean if they do make a movie, it better be close to the book. No creative liberties. I want to see the book come to life, ya know? I want the dwarves to have full beards, especially the women and-"

You stand up abruptly," Shut the fuck up." Eddie pauses at your abrupt words and movement. Silence spans a few seconds as he notices the glimmer in your eyes," Excuse you?" You hum, running your eyes up and down his frame. Eddie was definitely a man, no longer the boy you had met in high school. He had filled out more, had some scruff on his jawline. His sweatpants had a hole in his knee and there was a stain on his shirt, but he had never looked more beautiful to you. And you had never wanted to fuck him more.

Eddie tilted his head slightly, untamed and frizzy curls bouncing as he tried to decipher the look in your eye. "I will gladly listen to this conversation, but I can't pay attention right now. Not when you're," you wave your hand gesturing to him," that!" Eddie scoffs," Excuse you? That?." One step is all it takes to get in his space, Eddie instinctively taking a step back.

You push on his chest, firm beneath your open palms, causing him to stumble back into the couch. He lands with a grunt and looks up at you with a look of exasperation. He goes to open his mouth to say what you're sure is a snarky remark, but all thoughts leave his head as you grab his knees spreading them open and kneeling in front of him. His jaw drops as he stares at you between his legs. You bat your lashes at him in what you hope is a seductive look, but let's be honest, both you and Eddie suck at flirting. You trail one hand up from his knee, barely touching as your fingers dance their way up his thigh. His cheeks flush, a beautiful dusty pink that spreads down his neck towards his chest. You wonder how far that blush goes as you lift the hem of his shirt.

Eddie is staring at you, frozen in time. You clearing your throat as you tug on his shirt knocks him from his reverie. "Yeah, okay, fuck uh yea." He leans forward enough to pull the shirt over his head. You lick your lips at the expanse of tattooed skin you see. You lean in, trying to decide where to start. You look up through your eyelids at him, slowly licking the happy trail, that definitely made you happy. The image of you licking his skin, peering up at him through your lashes, was burned into Eddie's retinas. Eddie's knuckles were white as he gripped the couch cushions. His stomach flexed unintentionally at the warmth of your tongue. The small whimper he let out fueled your desire, heat pooling low in your stomach. You nip and suck at his hips, one hand resting on his thigh, the other curled around his back to bring him closer to you. You pulled back after adding a lovely red mark that you know will fade to a bruise.

You can't believe you had fallen asleep next to this man, now the only thoughts involving a bed also involved cardio. You lightly trail a finger over the prominent bulge in his pants, earning a sharply inhaled breath and a buck of his hips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he groans, voice lower then you've ever heard. You lick your lips as your hands reach for the hem of his pants and-

"Wait!" Eddie startles you, and you glance up at his wrecked face. "Huh?" You blink a few times starting to pull back," Do you not..?" "No! No I do!" Eddie clears his throat and grabs the pillow next to him," I just...you should be comfortable..." His face flushes as he holds the pillow between you two, causing you to chuckle. You grab the pillow and put it under your knees, even if you don't need it. "Thanks baby. You're so thoughtful." Eddie preens under the praise, looking smug. Your hands return to his waist band, tugging his pants and boxers down. He lifts his hips to help and-

You've never thought a dick to be pretty before. Sure, you've seen some good ones but this? He's long, curved slightly to the right. Precum beading at the top of a head that is flushed so red it's almost purple. A prominent vein trailing the underside of his dick that you want to lick up. Curls around the base that were trimmed but still unruly. The tension is thick as you stare at his dick, wondering where to start. He twitches under your heavy gaze. "C'mon, don't make me wait.." Eddie mumbles. "You'll take what I give you, and you'll be thankful." You snap back, watching the man pout slightly. For all his bravado and extroverted demeanor, he has no power here and he knows it.

But you decide to have mercy on him as you flatten your tongue against his dick, deciding to follow the vein from his base to his tip. Eddie lets out a high-pitched whine followed by a "thank you", but you don't really care. Yes, it feels good for him, but this is also for your pleasure. You swirl your tongue around his leaking tip, tasting the salty essence. Eddie's hand finds the back of your head instinctively, not using any real force or grip. When you fully envelope his tip with your warm mouth and suck, all coherent thoughts of his are gone. He barely can remember his own name. One of your hands holding his hips back so he can't thrust up, the other wrapped around his dick slowly moving up and down.

Eddie sits there babbling nonsense, he never could stay quiet for long. And you wouldn't want him to, his moans and groans like music to your ears. You pull off of him earning a whine. Eddie's face is flushed, bangs stuck to his forehead, a slight sweat broken out on him. He looks down at you with those big brown eyes like you just kicked a dog. "Please? Fuck, please baby? Don't stop."

You smile up at the wrecked man, the man begging for you to continue. You can feel the light pressure of his hand against your head trying to push you closer to his groin. You could make him beg. Make him wait. But he looks so good like this, you want to see him completely blissed out. You inhale deeply before lightly putting the tip back in your mouth. Eddie has no time to mutter a thank you before you fully sink down on him. Your nose coming flush with the hair you admired earlier, taking him deep in your throat without gagging. "Oh fuckfuckfuck," Eddie pants above you, lost in the feeling of you. You hollow out your cheeks and suck, bobbing up and down along his length. He was a twitching writhing mess beneath you. You lightly palm at his balls, adding enough pressure to have Eddie moan. It didn't take him long before he came with a loud groan, hips bucking without a pattern. You swallowed it to the best of your ability, some leaking out and dripping down your chin.

When he was done, you pulled off him with a pop. Eddie's chest heaved as he panted above you. Eddie looked down from the ceiling, not sure when he had thrown his head back in ecstasy. You swipe the cum off your chin before licking your fingers, eyes locked with his. "Jesus Christ," he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a chuckle. You hum and smile up at him. Eddie lightly grasps your biceps, tugging you to get up,"Not sure what brought that on, but I think its time for me to return the favor. Get up here."

#Listen Eddie deserves to have his entire world view changed through a good bj #Blow him so good you blow his mind #Also idc if he is older that man cannot flirt #He is just a funky lil dude who is a terrible flirt he gets like 0 bitches #BUT even tho he is terrible at flirting I would still suck him off like any day #like call me a succubus the way I'm gonna succ your buss- okay no that...no #Unless.... 👀#Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Things smut #Gonna post this a SECOND time as uh not even my mutual saw it so...idk why but let's try this again #If yall let this flop you don't even deserve him 😤#Jade is Talking

914 notes · View notes

deangirlsstuff67 · 1 year

Text

Sorry... Not Sorry

Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Smoking, Male masterbation, Drug and Booze use, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected sex, Orgasm denial, Dirty talk, Language

Summary: You work with the boys to fulfill Butchers mission. Your family, like MM's, were killed by Soldier Boy. The only difference, you aren't mad about it. Your family was terrible and you constantly suffered at their hands. When you all find Soldier Boy, you offer to be his babysitter, only your attraction for the older supe might be too strong to fight.

Masterlist | Patreon

-------------------------------------------------------

He escaped you in Russia, only to track him to The Legend's house. You aren't a supe so for the most part you hang back when they go fight. Butcher always had a soft spot for you.

When it comes to Soldier Boy however, you willing volunteered to babysit the nuclear powered superhero. Everyone was reluctant at first. You're the youngest of the group, but you weren't backing down. Not this time.

Eventually Butcher agreed, which led you here. Some old man's house who wants to relive the glory days. Any other day I would pretend to listen, just not today. I am on a mission.

I walk towards the room The Legend informed me he would be in. Whatever I was expecting to find on the other side of the door, orgy, some chick giving him head, was not what I found.

His back was facing the door when I opened the handle. Wildly designed silk robe hiding his body from my lust filled eyes. Leg proped up on the bed frame. His whole body moving as he grunts from the pleasure his hand was providing his dick.

A very well endowed dick if I remember Russia correctly.

My body begins to heat, my underwear quickly becoming damp from my own private show, breathing coming in fast shallow pants.

Forgetting he had super hearing, Soldier Boy rips a surprised gasp from me when he speaks into the quiet room, "I can practically smell your sopping cunt from here Pretty Girl."

He doesn't turn or even stop his movements. Though you do notice he has slowed to a lazy rhythm. No longer chasing a quick orgasm.

Closing the door behind you you take one step at a time towards the powerful man infront of you. A man who I'm positive can spit me in half with one powerful thrusts into my heat.

Oh what a way to die.

By now you're standing right behind him fighting the urge to touch him. In a blink of an eye he swings around to come face to face with me.

We are in the middle of a staring contest. Him wondering my next move. Me wondering if I even have the nerve to follow through with anything.

Now or never I guess. This is one way to thank him for saving me. I know he hurt a lot of people and is the ultimate asshole, but to me he's a hero.

With a wave of bravery rushing through my veins, I step up and wrap my hand around his huge cock. My tiny hand barely touching as I begin to slide it up and down his shaft.

Soldier Boy throws his head back from the contact. Long, messy hair shining as te sun hits him just right. What I wouldn't give to run my fingers through it. I know I've got him when I hear a deep moan leave his kissable lips.

"Been a long time since a beauty such as yourself has touched me, Doll."

I still can't speak. His husky voice drips of honey when he's aroused, eye's that were once shining green are now hooded and black with lust. The man's beautiful on any given day, but when he's in a stage of bliss, he's breathtaking.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Strong, long, thick fingers move rapidly inside me as Soldier Boy brings me to the edge again. Pistoling straight into my g spot repeatedly.

"You're stunning when you're fucked out and frustrated, Doll." He removes his fingers from my soaked core, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean. My pussy clenching around nothing.

"Mmm... taste sweet." Rolling on top of his naked body I rub my wet center up his length while sinking my tongue into his mouth. Stunned for a moment from surprise before he begins to kiss me back... hard.

Breaking away I lift my body and grab his leaking cock before impaling myself on his perfect dick.

I was right, he's going to split me in half. It burns as he stretches me to my limit. Never had a cock this good. I can feel every vein as I slipped farther down his shaft.

Bottoming out I stay still waiting for my body to adjust. Feeling my velvet walls flutter around him as they fight to accept his size. He shifts slightly sending electricity shooting through my body, another wave of arousal soaks his dick.

"Soldier Boy..."

Laughing he leans up, wrapping a strong arm protectively around my waist as he kisses me sweetly. "Sweetheart I'm balls deep in your sopping cunt right now, pretty sure you can call me Ben." Then he thrusts into me, hitting my cervix.

"Ben..." is all I can moan as he takes control of my body.

"That’s my Pretty Girl. Scream it baby, my names never sounded so sweet before."

His pace quickens sending me into my first orgasm. Clenching him so tight I'm amazed he can still move as he fucks me through it. "Squeezing my cock so good."

Ben watches where our bodies are join, "this pussy is drooling Doll. Making such a pretty mess of my dick." I tighten around him, "oh fuck yes..."

"Got one more in there for me baby girl." It wasn't a question. He brings his rough hands to my bundle of nerves and starts to vigorously rub me there.

My orgasm build fast and hard. Just as I'm think I'm about to be thrown over the edge a new sensation comes over me, "shit... Ben you have to st.. stop. I.. I think I'm go.. going to pee."

He doesn't listen. If anything the statement makes him feral as he double downs his efforts. Then it happens. My body let's go, vision goes white as I scream his name as loud as I can before slumping into his chest.

What feels like hours goes by, but I'm sure it's minutes, before I feel someone gently finger my pussy. Whimpering I hear a dark chuckle beside me.

"That was fucking hot Doll." Ben holds me to his chest as he lazily plays with my pussy and our mess, "I'm far from done with you, sleep for now."

"You should have known better than to try and tease me. Best damn pussy I've had... just might have to keep you now." He gently bites my ear lope.

Through my blessed out haze I weakly smile before whispering, "Sorry... not sorry."

I fall asleep in his warm embrace with his laughter as my lullaby and his fingers bringing small waves of pleasure every once in a while.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@syrma-sensei

#soldier boy #the boys tv #jensen ackles #soldier boy smut #the boys smut #the boys s3 #the boys season 3 #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys fanfic

1K notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 2 months

Note

sent the anon about making leon suck the strap. what about making him ride the strap.

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

Firstly, I’m so sorry this response has been so delayed, and now I can finally sit and write it out. Secondly, thank you for the initial asks of Leon taking the strap, we love that over here and it's been fun imagining every scenario. Now, as for this particular idea, yeah, he would do whatever he could to get fucked correctly.

Sure, for the most part, Leon will take what’s given to him without restraint. He lets you take control of him, to mold him into whoever you want him to be at that moment. He’ll fuck you however you ask him to, not caring so much for his own needs but to cater to you and only you. If you order him to get on his knees and use his mouth on you, he won’t stop until his jaw grows sore. Yank on his hair and tell him to suck off your strap, he’d do that in a heartbeat, not caring about how embarrassed he might feel.

Riding the strap? Oh, now you’re in for a show.

Leon would be shy because it’s something taboo to him that doesn't happen all the time, not that he hasn't taken dick before back when he was experimenting. Most days, it was him fucking you while you had the control. You’d ride him into oblivion until his head turns to mush and there isn’t a thought in his pretty head.

Having him on top like this would bring in a new wave of emotions for Leon, his body sensitive with every buck of his hips. Here you are, having a man with so much on his shoulders turned into a whimpering mess as his thighs framed your own.

You rested your head against the pillow, soft hands caressing Leon’s hips and muscular thighs as he moved his body up and down. His eyes were closed, focused on the feeling of you inside him and how well you filled him. The harness of the strap was doing wonders to stimulate you while he rode you, your hazy eyes meeting his own through the haziness of his pleasure.

“That feel good baby?”, you said to him, his head lifting to give you a better look at his fucked out face. He nods, a low whine slipping past him when the tip of your strap-on rubs deliciously into that sensitive spot inside him.

“Tell me how it feels to have my dick inside you”

“Feels so fucking good”, his words were slurring together, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You grinned as you watched him, taking in the way his muscles flexed with every soft movement he gave you. Thrusting your hips upwards into him, his cock bounced at his pelvis, the angry red tip just asking to be touched.

You brought your fingers towards his aching length, stroking it gently as your thumb pressed into his slit. He moaned then, a high-pitched sound that brought you even closer to the edge than you initially anticipated. Leon should be embarrassed, he should care more about how pathetic he seems the more he shifts over you. Instead, he puts more force into his actions, bouncing on you prominently with a smile on his face. You matched his expression, sitting further up to kiss him on the lips, his breath hitching and another groan filling the room.

“Good boy. Keep riding me like that and I’ll let you cum”, you whispered to him, Leon’s mind growing fuzzy and making sure to listen to your orders. As long as he gets his reward in the end, he’ll do anything you say.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #sub leon kennedy smut #sub! leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #ovaryacted asks #GET THE STRAP!

313 notes · View notes

movidita · 6 months

Text

18+ mdni

You aren’t entirely sure how you managed to get yourself in this predicament. Hands tied above you, secured tight to the creaking bunk bed, the metal frame rubbing against your wrists. Legs spread so far apart that it was starting to hurt.

The cool air of the prison cell causing goosebumps to rise all over your bare skin.

And the man between your legs, lapping at your swollen pussy like a starved man— like it was a five-star meal.

It’s been so long, you’d lost track of time now. The sheriff between your legs refusing to stop.

It was borderline torture. Tears were running down your cheeks, lips pressed into a soft pout as you pleaded with him.

“Please, Rick! Need to come so bad- I can’t-“ He immediately pulled his head up at your words.

Smirking at your worn out, trembling body, “Oh, you poor girl.” He stroked your tummy with his thumb, all gentle- taunting you, mocking you. “You can.”

His head dipped down again, placing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before his tongue was pressed flat against your weeping pussy. Swiping up to lap at your clit.

“Fuck! Please!”

He only sucked harder, taking his index finger to circle your hole. Not wasting a second before he shoved it inside of you.

“Rick!” You let out a pathetic whine. Too loud.

The man’s movements slowed momentarily but never stopped, “You need to be quiet, or you’ll wake everyone and I’ll leave.”

You immediately clamped your mouth shut, attempting to close your legs around his head but Rick is much stronger than you. Harshly holding them down on the worn out mattress, causing more tears to well up in your eyes.

Rick continued to kiss your clit and shove his fingers inside of you at a rapid pace. You knew you were at the brink of your orgasm, there was no way you’d be able to control it if he carried on.

“I can’t hold it anymore.” You cry, your orgasm ripping through you, juices flowing out, entire body shaking as you pant.

He pulls his fingers out, slowly, his head cocking up at you.

“Shit, fuck. I’m sorry, Rick. I’m sorry, I-“ Apologies spilled out of your mouth, you didn’t dare look at his face, knowing he would be incredibly angry at you for cumming without his permission. “I’m sorry!”

You were cut off by a sharp slap to your pussy. Making a squelchy wet sound when he lifts his hand.

“Fuckin’ slut! Did I say you could cum?” His head twists to the side, grabbing your jaw harshly- so harsh you think it might bruise.

Shaking your head, more tears drip down your chin as you babble like a pathetic little baby.

He delivers a painful slap to your cheek, hastily unbuckling the belt that was secured around your wrists and the bed frame.

Rick roughly flipped you over, ignoring your apologies and whines, shoving your face into the pillow and positioning your ass in the air.

You could hear the unzipping of his jeans from behind you, biting your lip as you stifled a cry.

“Rick, I’m sorry-“

You were cut off by his hand tangling in your hair and yanking your head up, his fingers swiftly burying themself in your mouth, a pointer and a middle finger pressing down on your tongue, making you gag.

“I’m gonna teach you the rules, alright? And your gonna listen and your gonna do what I say, okay?”

You manage to muster up enough energy to nod, despite his death grip on your hair, lips wrapping around his fingers and giving a harsh suck.

“Little whore like you needs to learn her place, learn that she can’t do what she wants. That she listens to me.”

You could almost come again at just his words. It was humiliating, even more so now that he could see the arousal dripping from you, dripping down your thigh.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #twd x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick x reader #rick grimes imagine

343 notes · View notes

holybibly · 2 months

Note

Hello~~ I've previously asked anonymously but I wanna send pics and gifs, so I'm uncovering my identity batman style to lose my mind over Seonghwa 🤭🫣

Like what?? 😭😭

This man man makes me lose my mind so bad, like every picture I see of him just flips a switch in my brain and suddenly *I'm* the rabid wolf chasing after a pretty bunny

I feel like he'd maybe try to be really dominant at first but would so easily let himself be flipped and ruined, I wanna blow this man's mind fr

This picture even has his hands in the perfect position to tie them up ahsjshshsj someone take my internet away please 😭😭

Firstly, hi baby, good to see you. Secondly, should I even mention that I have been drooling over him on a daily basis? God, I think the Ateez have ruined my mind just a little bit. Third, I'm going to go and make that damn fic with the cute hybrid Hwa. So we can all (I really hope) quench our thirst for the whining, submissive, and subservient Seonghwa. God, I fucking need this. I am needy and not ashamed.

In the meantime, I give you this. Have fun, my brave bunny.

"God, why must you be so beautiful? Is that fair?" You coo, running your thumb over the sugary brown flesh of his nipple. He twitches at the touch—too sensitive. "Too beautiful, annoying."

Seonghwa's arms are lifted and tied to the bed frame with silk ribbons, leaving him helpless and writhing as you deny him his second orgasm of the night, bringing him to the brink of pleasure before you withdraw. He lets out a soft, needy whimper as he is unable to make any other sounds.

He looks lost in his pleasure, his pupils dilating so that only a small ring of iris can be seen, his sensuous lips parted, and his chest rising and falling in small breathless sighs.

"Oh, darling, you sound so anxious. Don't you want to cum already, my beautiful boy?" Your teasing elicits another moan from Seonghwa as you delicately run your fingernail along the bulging vein on his cock. He twitches in response.

Overstimulated, Seonghwa closes his big, shining eyes and pushes his hips into your hand, hoping to feel some kind of friction. You chuckle weakly and lower yourself to kiss his beautiful, sensitive cock. As you blow on his dripping, reddened head, you hear another pitiful whimper from him.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do in the whole of the world. He melts so easily and submits to the sweet torture. It is too beautiful to ignore. You just want to eat him whole. Sue you for that.

Your soft tongue traces the same vein as your long fingernail did a few moments ago; pre-cum flows freely down his shaft, and you lap it up hungrily. Sweet. Covering his cock completely with your lips, you slowly lower your head down, a movement that you know will drive him crazy, but it's not enough to make him come. This only serves to make Seonghwa even more desperate.

"Please, I can't stand it anymore." He's got this wonderful voice; you could listen to it for hours when he's at his peak.

He lifts his hips, begging you to take him deeper into your hot, wet mouth, but instead he gets slapped lightly. Forcing him to stay still under your care, your hands rest on his hips. In an agonisingly slow motion, you slide down the length of his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone. You simply suck him into your mouth, warming him up and trying not to add any extra stimulation with your tongue.

His high is rising again. You can feel the tension in his lithe, elegant body. The sound of his lingering, unsatisfied moans is suspiciously quiet as he tries to hold himself back. Admiring his delicious, high-pitched moan of utter frustration, you remove your lips from his cock with a pop.

"My sweet, handsome boy." You're just mocking him; it's a little sadistic of you, but who allowed Seonghwa to be so handsome? All your actions are completely justified. "You've been such a good boy to me, Hwa. Are you ready for your reward?"

He nods feverishly; his long hair is spread all over the pillow, and he looks so wonderful in your eyes. You reach out and untie his hands, kissing his chest on the way and leaving a couple of hickeys.

"Seonghwa, this is your wish, isn't it? I need words, my beautiful." You whisper in his ear as you untie his numb hands.

"Yes, I do... I really want my reward." He breathes out.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me what your wish is." He's so unbelievably cute when he's winded. He pauses for a second, thinking about what he wants, and you gently rub his wrists where they were bound with the silk.

"I want you so badly, please." He pulls you by your hips so that you straddle him, gently stroking your curves with his graceful, thin palms. Seonghwa reaches up to kiss you, his plump, wet lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss before you feel his cock enter you.

You let him do whatever he wants to you, but you lean down and put your hands on his shoulders to help balance you, whispering again.

"Come on, my beauty, fuck me good."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader

161 notes · View notes

elfiewhore · 14 days

Text

Mommy domme elf story

Hello my dears and darlings! Finally, the long promised elf mommy domme story is here! Or at least, the first two chapters. As I began writing I realised that this idea had a firm hold on my mind and I want to write a slow, lewd and enticing tale. So that means this will be part 1 of ? - The first two chapters.

Please feel free to give me any feedback and/or tell me what you'd like to see next! This story is written from the perspective of the reader as the member of an adventuring party. The gender and name of the protagonist is purposefully left vague which, while it does mean some specific descriptions will be a little nonspecific, hopefully means that you can easily identify yourself in the story <3 This story is strictly 18+ and contains/will contain content including but not limited to: Humiliation, peeing, diapers, AB/DL, gfd, age regression, crossdressing(depending on how you identify), chastity and monsterfucking. All that out of the way, without further adieu I give you the first two chapters of my as-yet-unnamed story!

Chapter 1: An unexpected parting “I’m afraid I cannot continue along this path. To be quite frank you are all far too reckless. The strain it places upon me is far greater than any I have faced before. I wish you well, but I must depart.” That was the last words of your party’s healer, a priestess sworn to a god of healing. She was your last resort, having had to beg for the mercy of the church to provide her services free of charge. And she wasn’t wrong. Your party are notably reckless, charging headlong into combat without a second thought. This devil-may-care attitude had at first earned you some renown, as your bravado led to taking on the most dangerous of missions posted in the Adventurer’s guild. Slaying harpies, undead, and even a gryphon! The stuffed head of which is now resting within the guilds’ storage as collateral for your replacement arms and armour after the last debacle. Not that it was your fault, mind! You were always good. You listened to the numerous healers that had come and gone through your party. Standing where they wished, protecting them, ferrying potions. You were always their favourites, it wasn’t fair that the others always dragged you down. But you couldn’t leave either, the reputation stuck. You sent out subtle enquiries to other famous bands only to be rejected at each turn. Even the less reputable groups required steep entry fees as ‘insurance’ should they require costly resurrection magicks. Truly it was a terrible situation. And now here you were sitting in the foyer of the guild. The wooden walls of this esteemed establishment groaning under the weight of trophies and banners of heroes long past. They did little to inspire as you sat with your chin in your hands, waiting for a representative from the guilds’ treasury so that you can convince them not to repossess your equipment. “Just give ‘em the puppydog eyes. No one can resist those!” Your group had told you. And this was also true. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t especially strong or imposing. It was useful for fulfilling your role but unfortunately led to you often being underestimated or treated childishly. Your mind swirled in a thunderstorm. Travelling without a healer was tantamount to a death sentence. Out in the wilderness, even the smallest cut could lead to a life-threatening infection. Not to mention mummy rot, lycanthropy, wyvern stings. Everyone had a role to play and you were missing one. “Excuse me. Is this the Adventuring Guild?” Came a breathy, soft spoken voice. Airy and light. You glanced up to see a woman standing before the desk, speaking to the clerk. Your breath caught for a moment in your throat as you took her in. Long, beautiful hair the colour of spun gold and braided with gems that glittered like stars tumbled down her back like a waterfall, framing the back of this curvy, enchanting figure. Every movement, no matter how small, was performed with effortless grace as she rested a staff of living wood against the desk. Atop it rested a crystal so pure one could see right through it, and silvery threads of magicked metals intertwined with the knots and whorls of the staff. Pretty (and valuable) as that staff may be your eyes refused to be pulled away from this woman. Clad in a robe of forest greens that flowed about her as if pulled by an unfelt breeze. Trumpet sleeves made of thin, almost translucent fabrics revealed pale and unblemished skin. But most notable of all, perhaps, were her ears. An unusual thing, one might thing, to focus upon. But the tips were long and pointed.

An elf.. you think to yourself. A rarity to be sure. These reclusive, powerful creatures lived for millennia within their enchanted forests and reclusive holds. To see one traveling the world was an unusual sight indeed, for they often cared not for the affairs of men, halflings and other mortal beings. Content to remain within their own communities and spend their time plumbing the depths of the arcane and the nature of the divine, among others. “Yes this is the Ad-” the clerk stops, their eyes widening as they look up at this woman. “H-How may I.. Help you?” “Hehe! Oh please don’t be alarmed, sweetie. I don’t bite!” The woman’s voice again, a soft whisper. The susurration of a blanket being draped around you. “I’m only here to see if any parties are in need of a.. Oh what’s the word in this era.. A physiker? No..” “A healer?” Your eyes widen. That was your voice. Why did you speak? You groaned internally. Drawing attention to yourself never ended well. The figure turns, blessing you with a radiant smile. “Yes! Oh thank you!” Her eyes regard you from above as you are given a chance to look upon her face. Flawless as the rest, her eyes were a strange cavalcade of colour. At once purple, then gold, then blue as they took you in. Though no wrinkles could be seen, for elves are forever youthful, her countenance held a certain age to it. A wisdom beyond your own. You attempted to be polite, to meet her gaze. But that was difficult at the best of times and you were somewhat distracted by the revelation that her dress did little to contain a bountiful chest. The creamy pale skin stark against the deep green dress. It did not look ill-fitting, mind. Simply.. This woman’s bust demanded attention. Her ruby-clad lips draw your eyes northward once more. “My my! Let me help you with that!” She coos, in a voice tinged deeply with maternal concern. She reaches down and cups your cheek with a touch so delicate and warm you at once wish to melt into it. Your face had been rather beaten up in the last adventure, and with none to restore your vigor now you simply had to patch them up. But now the aches subsided more swiftly than they had ever before. Not just those upon your face, as the elf whispers her magic, it travels through your body. Soothing the woes of fatigue and injury. Even old wounds you had long since accepted receded before her radiance. Her hand pulls away and you can’t stop your face from following. Unbalanced, you collapse upon the floor with an embarrassed groan as you are snapped back to reality. A sound graces your ears. Like a babbling brook meets the chime of crystals. You realise she’s giggling. Your cheeks flush red as you rush to your feet.

Her laughter stops as she looks genuinely apologetic. “I am sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was simply.. Cute.” Normally being called such a thing enraged you, frustrated you. But now… It felt comforting. “It’s okay.” you mumble.

“A-hem!” a stuffy voice draws your attention. You see the stuffy mustache first, like a hateful caterpillar resting upon the craggy face of a mountain filled with debt. The treasurer. “You again. I told you before if your party cannot prove to this guild that you are capable of finding a consistent and reliable healer to prevent any further deaths we will be forced to repossess the equipment we have graciously provided! I shan’t hear any more arguments or delays! So I ask for a final time. Have you a member capable of sealing wounds and ensuring your survival?” their stern gaze pierces you and your words wither in your throat. You tried to muster some kind of response but all that begins to croak out is a pathetic “N-no..” “Now now!” A scolding voice rang out. “There’s no need for that! No matter how urgent you feel your issue may be there’s no excuse for snapping! Or being impolite! If you must know ‘tis I that has joined this worthy band of warriors and, personally, I believe you would scarcely find a better purveyor of magicks and mending than one of my people. Now unless you would doubt the provenance of my ability, I have matters to discuss with my noble companion!” It was the elf. When did- You didn’t ask her to join you?! You barely spoke a word to her. And yet here she was, standing beside you with an arm protectively holding you against her side. Your cheek presses against her soft, warm breast through the thin fabric as you are held with a surprisingly firm grip.

Chapter 2: Mommy’s home

The elf, whom you learned was named Nimue, was true to her word. Requesting (or gently demanding) to be taken to where your group were staying to introduce herself. She was apparently a mage of great renown amongst her own people who had left the isolation of her home to travel amongst the younger races as, in her own words, she ‘missed the energy and vibrancy of youth’ You couldn’t very well say no. You needed a healer. Furthermore elves legendarily had little need for riches which was a source of great frustration for any trader that fancied trying to arrange a trade deal for their crafts. So payment seemed not to be an issue. Dutifully you returned to the house your party had purchased many moons ago. Now somewhat dilapidated, the garden overgrown. It made you well up with shame to bring such a perfect and ethereal figure to this place. But her face remained impassive as she was led inside not that the interior fared much better. Broken bottles, dust, overturned chairs. Too often had your party returned here either too tired or drunk to care about cleanliness and it had become simply a part of the decor. First to meet you were the leaders of your band. A pair of twins, one a swordsman named Krennan and the other a channeller of barbaric rage named Mithra. “Well now, pipsqueak. Who’s this you brought with yo-” Began the swordsman, only to be cut off. “I think that’s quite a rude nickname to give someone, don’t you think?” The elf’s voice came in clipped tones, her hands on her hips. “How would you like it if someone called you pipsqueak, hmm? Just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you get to bully others you know!” The twins look stunned. Confused. They hadn’t even exchanged names and already this lady was scolding them like a schoolteacher. “Well? Not to mention the absolute state of this abode. I’m told you are the ‘leaders’ of this little group? Hmm? Well I don’t see much leading if you leave this place in such a mess!” You couldn’t help but smile, though you attempted to hide it. To see these two being taken down a peg was… Wonderful. You glanced up at this woman, this saviour and your heart leapt just a little. You clung to her side even though you technically could have left at any time. Nowhere felt safer than right here, especially after her gentle arm almost habitually draped itself around you. “Now do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?” Her voice never raised, not once. But the tone, the power, the authority. It was all that was needed. The duo mumble and hang their heads, somehow cowed by this beautiful stranger. “Now apologize.” She commands. Krennan begins to mumble but withers under her gaze. “S-Sorry for calling you a pipsqueak.” He says a little more clearly. “That’s better. Now dearies. Thanks to a certain someone here-” she announces, rubbing your arm affectionately. “-I am your new… What was the word again in this era?” She asks you. “Healer” You say back up to her, feeling an utter rush of pride that you could be helpful to her. Especially as she beams back down at you. “I am your new healer! I’ll make sure you’re all back in bed safe and sound each and every night!” Her words are accompanied with a happy giggle. “But first sweeties, I think we need to do something about this mess, don’t you? After all. Cleanliness is next to godliness! So come along, pick up a brush. No dillydallying!” She ferries you and the other two further into the house, ushering you like children.

The next few hours consisted of chores. Cleaning the house, trimming the garden, dusting every inch that could be dusted. Your other companions - A scout named Callie and a sorcerer named Ilnax, were roped into the affair with sleepy confusion. That they fucked regularly was the worst kept secret in the group and today was no exception. But Nimue had some kind of.. Allure. Power. Nothing magical, you don’t think. Simply an aura of maternal authority. You found yourself eager to please, trusting that she knew best. And before long, the house was transformed. No longer a dilapidated sty, it looked somewhat close to actually livable! “Okay sweeties! Well done! I’m so proud of you! Teehee! And now it’s bath and bedtime for all of you!” That snapped some of them out of the strange spell she had woven. “Bedtime? We’re not-” Began Callie, only to find Nimue’s smiling face gazing down at her. “I am responsible for your health and that begins with a good and consistent sleep schedule! I’m told you four are constantly staying up far too late. This won’t do, so long as I’m here you will sleep at a reasonable hour! You wouldn’t want to die because of a silly mistake you made because you were cranky, would you?”

As usual, you were last for the bath. You were used to it. The others simply barged their way past you to take the hot water for themselves. As you stepped into the bathroom you blush as immediately you realise that Nimue is also in there, standing near-naked before the tub. You never thought you would see an ass that perfect but you could probably bounce a gold coin off that thing as silken underwear are nearly swallowed by the cheeks. She turns with a yelp, covering her bare chest but then chuckling and dropping her hands revealing perfectly pink nipples. “Oh, it’s just you! Hehe! Close the door silly.” She says with a chuckle. Your cheeks burn, not just because of her nudity but how somehow you don’t count as someone she would be embarrassed by. As if she doesn’t see you as an adult that would find such a sight enticing. But you find yourself closing the door. “It’s getting late, so I thought I would join you in the bath! That’s okay, right? No one changed the water so I did it myself and added some firestones. It should be nice and warm! C’mon!” She beckons, turning and slipping off her panties before climbing into the tub. You debated leaving, but why should you? She was inviting you in. And the water was literally steaming hot. You hadn’t had a warm bath in so long. You realise that while you had been debating internally your body had made the choice and you were already sinking into that warm, steaming water. The tub, small as it was, would only fit if you sat between her gorgeous thighs. They cushioned your hips like pillows as she wrapped her arms around your stomach, pulling you back against her to give you a hug. Her breasts squishing against the back of your head as she does so. “I’m so glad I found you, little one. This was just what I needed! Oh this is going to be a wonderful, wonderful time!” She coos, bringing some water up and beginning to wash you. Overwhelmed, you simply sit still. It was nice, finally. To have someone stand up for you, take care of you, protect you. Finally you could just relax. Just.. Relax.. “Ooop! It looks like someone’s having a bit of an accident!” She titters. Your eyes flutter open as you look down and to your utter horror you see between your legs a definite tinge of gold in the water. Did you- You pissed yourself! You immediately try to scramble out, stammering an embarrassed apology but again those powerful arms keep you still. “Shhh…” She soothes, softly petting your head. “It’s okay. I understand. You were relaxed. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She whispers into your ear. “I’ll take care of it. I promise. But for now.. We should make sure there’s nothing else in there, hmm?” Unsure of what she meant, you simply settled back into the water as her hand trailed down between your legs. You tense as she touches your most intimate place, but quickly relax as her gentle hands slowly start to rub and tease you. “W-What are you…” “Helping you relax.. Shhh..” She whispers into your ear as she continues just gently touching you. Holding you in a motherly embrace as her delicate strokes make you shiver so sweetly. You had never been touched like this. So carefully, tenderly. Not trying to simply get you off as quickly as possible. But wanting to fill your mind with a haze of pleasure. It was overwhelming. It was everything. You settle even more comfortably against her chest, half turning to nuzzle into her breast as she holds you close. “That’s my little champion. My brave heroic adventurer! You’ve done so much, such a good job! Now just relax. Let me take care of you. Let mommy take good, good care of you now…” Those words reached your ears and swirled into your mind. Soothing all worries, caressing your anxious soul. You didn’t even realise when you felt your hips lift and grind against her hand as you cum for her. She was taking care of you now. You were hers, happily and hopelessly hers. You could never have imagined how far that would go.

#trans nsft #nsft #ab dl #ab dl kink #diaper kink #piss kink #diaper humiliation #diaper wetting #fantasy kink #ab dl baby #mommydomme #mommy k1nk

140 notes · View notes

always-andromeda · 8 months

Text

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.

For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.

Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.

He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.

Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.

You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.

The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.

In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy.

It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.

"What can I do for you this afternoon?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.

"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."

"Ah, I did," he said simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"

The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.

But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.

You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.

Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."

Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"

"Easy. Asgard."

"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.

Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.

"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."

Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.

"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."

The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"

Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."

With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.

Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.

Then he did something else you didn't expect.

He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."

You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.

With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.

You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.

"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."

Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"

He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.

"What kind of presentation?" you asked.

Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."

There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.

"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"

You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."

The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.

"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"

"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."

"Proving myself?"

"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.

Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed.

You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.

"Very good," Sam breathed out.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."

You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.

"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."

He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.

"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."

His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.

"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."

You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged.

You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.

Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.

“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.

You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.

Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”

“Mhmmm,” you whined.

“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”

You nodded.

“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”

You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.

But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.

With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.

Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.

Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.

Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”

Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?

“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”

This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.

Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.

You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.

While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.

Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"

Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"

"Professor?"

Sam nodded darkly.

You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge.

Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.

And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."

With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.

But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.

Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.

He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.

"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic

342 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

Rolling in the Deep

Prequel to Make You Feel My Love

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, blood, miscarriage. Warnings may not be exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

Summary: You try to get out.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: Please leave any thoughts or comments or reblogs or anything you like!

You take the suitcase out of the closet. Already packed, waiting, ready to go at just the right time. That moment has come. Bucky’s gone. A mission out of the country.

It’s not just the bag. You have a plan. You’ll leave your phone there. When you get downtown, you’ll find a public bathroom to do a sweep of your clothing for any other trackers. You have cross-country tickets. You don’t need a passport for those, it will be harder for him to find you.

You’ll disembark at a midway point and do something about your hair. A change that obscures your trail. From there, you’ll take a bus and buy a train ticket at the first major city. You just need to lose yourself in the shuffle of life outside your tiny world.

You check the pouch strapped around your stomach. Cash. Enough to get you far away. You’ll figure it out from there. You lift the bag and near the door. You hold your breath. The house is ominously silent. The only witness to your flight.

You look out into the hall. You take a breath and carry the compact luggage cautiously along, steps softened by the long runner rug. Your hand goes to your stomach. It’ll be okay. You’re almost there. You just need to get outside.

As you near the top of the staircase, a shadow appears in the doorway closest to you. You take a step back, stunned by the unexpected figure. No. No. It can’t be. You know you can’t lie, he can hear your heartbeat.

“Steve,” you gasp and drop the bag.

You stand in a deadlock, you caught and him knowing. You swallow and repeat his name again. He tuts and puts his hand on the door frame.

“Why?” He utters. You should ask the same. Bucky’s little lap dog, his left hand, another enabler.

“You know why…” you say crisply.

He rolls his eyes and steps into the hall. You flinch as he grabs your arm. You wriggle and try to rip yourself away. You know it’s futile but your pride makes you fight.

“You’re going to let him hurt me. Again,” you sneer as he marches you backward.

He doesn’t respond as he nearly bowls you over. He gives a small shove so you stumble back into the bedroom. You catch your balance and stare at him. You knew before you tried it wouldn’t work. You don’t even know why you put so much effort in.

“You ask for it,” Steve grabs the door and snaps it shut.

You rush forward and hit the wood. You holler through it as you bring your fist against it, over and over, “Steve. You’re not like him. You can let me go. You can save me. Aren’t you supposed to save people… Captain?”

His footfalls pause not far from the other side. A sigh puffs loudly and he clears his throat. He continues on, the stairs groaning beneath his descent. You back up and cradle your stomach, the bump hidden by the loose fabric. I’m sorry, you look down at your shirt, I wanted better for you.

💔

Dread. That emotion has coloured much of your relationship with Bucky.

At first, that dread that this man with the dreamy blue eyes and chiseled jaw wouldn’t like you.

Dread again when you sat on the cusp of your wedding day, stressing about everything that could go wrong.

And when it all went wrong and it was the fear of his temper, of his fist. Of how you might unwittingly bring out the worst of him. That part of himself you didn’t see until the last day of your honeymoon.

Now you wallow in it. You sit against the door, waiting. This is it. You know this doesn’t end well for you. You knew that when you packed the suitcase.

The dread twists in your chest, threatening to choke you as you hear movement below. The front door and the exchange of low voices. Silence, and then the unmistakable, discernible trad of his step. You know it anywhere, you’ve learned to listen for it, to recognise it.

You will not face this on your knees. You stand and face the door. You try to shake out your fear but that you cannot escape as much as you could not get away from this man. You take a deep breath as his slow progress creaks down the hallway, his weight shifting down the floorboards.

You stare at the handle as it turns, the lock sliding back. No one would ever know it but if they did, they would indeed think it rather odd that the lock is on the outside. They might even guess why.

You’re speechless and Bucky looks much the same. You see the anger pulsing in his forehead as his glare scalds you. As it all boils under the surface ready to bubble over. He is just deciding how he’ll let it come out. His lip twitches and his hand balls to a fist. Words or force, it doesn’t matter.

“Why can’t you just let me go?” You whisper.

His blue eyes flare and he takes a step forward. You retreat on your heels and he stops short. He sways as a shadow of hurt washes over his features.

“Why don’t you love me?” He grits.

You shake your head and cross your arms, “that’s the problems, Bucky, I do love you.”

He sighs, a deep exhale akin to a growl. His gaze falls and wanders over to the dresser. You wince as he stomps towards it and rips open the top drawer. It’s empty. He slams it and you cower as he faces you again.

“It’s true,” he sneers, “you were going to leave.”

You hang your head. Does he not see that you have no other option? That he has left you with no other choice. It is your life or no life at all. Whether you stayed or not, it would end like that.

“You–” he snarls and you cry out as he seizes the back of your neck.

He moves fast, faster than you can. You untangle your arms and reach back to claw at his forearm. He marches you down the hall as your feet bounce off the floor clumsily. You whine as his fingers curl into the tendons of your neck.

“Bucky, please, you’re hurting me–”

“You hurt me!” He hollers as he urges you to the top of the stairs.

“I… I never wanted to–”

“That’s all you’ve ever done,” he barks into your hair, sending hot breaths across your scalp. “You want to leave me? After all I did for you? After I loved you?”

“Bucky, I was scared–”

“Of what? I’ve protected you!”

“You!” Your squeeze his wrist as his metal fingers threaten to crush down to your spine, “I am terrified of you–”

“So you want to leave? You don’t want to talk?” He hisses as he pushes his head next to yours.

You look down the stairs as he hovers you on the top step. Your toes hang over the edge. You keep one hand on his forearm, the other clinging to the post beside you.

“I tried–”

“You want to go,” he snaps, swallowing loudly, “then… go.”

The last words are a gravelly whisper. He shoves you, throwing you off the step as you fall without obstacle. Your arms flail as he lets you go, as you try to catch yourself on anything. There is only air and then the harsh devastating crack of the first stair.

Your knees hit first and you shield your head against your uncontrollable plummet. Your chest hits next and you go ass over head, twisting around to bounce on your side, rolling and bumping over each step. Your foot flies out, hitting the banister as you hit the bottom and catches between the columns, the wood wrench your leg in the socket.

You stop, one leg bent unnaturally up as your foot stays hooked in the railing. Your breaths rattle as you lay strewn and broken. Agony coils around every part of you, burning most hotly at the base of your spine.

Bucky descends, a step at a time, each echoing ominously over you as you gulp and gasp for air. He looms over you and clicks his tongue as he bends to look you in the face.

“You fell, baby,” he shakes his head, “it’s a goddamn tragedy.”

You feel a churning in your pelvis, a hot pain in your stomach that makes you want to puke. You groan, vision speckling as you struggle just to lift a single finger. You close your eyes and shudder.

“Bucky…” you rest your hand over your stomach, “...the baby.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #prequel #drabble #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

384 notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.1k] soft, fluff, bed sharing.

Hawkins was dark as you strolled through it, following the white lines that led you down the middle of the streets. Houses and manicured lawns closed you in, cars parked on driveways, bikes abandoned on front porches as your watch told you it was nearing one am.

You sighed as you rounded the corner, cursing under your breath at the Harrington residence as you noticed another two cars were parked beside your boyfriend’s burgundy BMW. The other two vehicles were gleaming, not overly familiar looking due to the trips out of town they regularly took with their owners but you kicked a rock on the sidewalk, wondering when Steve’s parents had arrived home.

The spare key your boyfriend had cut for you felt hot and heavy in your shorts pocket, useless now that the house had more than one person inside. But the night was too warm and you were restless, unable to sleep and you’d spent an hour or two tangled in your sheets before you’d slipped out your own front door and walked the blocks it took to reach Steve’s.

Undeterred, you made your way around the side of the house, the sprawling mansion surrounded by thickets of plush, green hedges and tall trees. You groaned when you reached Steve’s window, nose scrunched and hands on your hips as you remembered the boy didn’t sleep above the garage roof like you did, that there wasn’t a drainpipe or ledge for you to easily hoist yourself up onto.

But you were so close and his window was open, the barely there summer breeze lifting at his curtains. Your chest ached a little at the thought of him sprawled out in his bed, hair mussed, eyes sleepy, skin soft.

Fuck it.

You couldn’t lie, the climb up the tree took longer than you thought it would, your legs seemingly shorter than you had remembered. But you reached the taller branches, placing your old converse on the limbs that seemed the strongest before shimmying yourself out and across. The gap between your branch and Steve’s window seemed a lot larger than from where you’d originally viewed it from the ground and you let out a small noise of concern. Shit.

Your bare legs were scuffed from the rough bark and your movements were clumsy, but the night had been far too warm to consider anything longer than the cotton shorts you had pulled on before you’d left, one of Steve’s old basketball t-shirts falling to their hem. It had long stopped smelling of him, cedar and mint and his aftershave washed away after too many nights of sleeping in it.

All the more reason you wanted to crawl in beside him, you thought. And if it had anything to do with the nightmares you were still having after watching the boy get dragged into the depths of Lovers Lake, well, you weren’t ready to admit it.

The night was silent around you, the wind lifting at the loose hair around your neck and face and for once, the town felt peaceful.

“Steve.”

Nothing. Your whisper was carried away with the breeze, swallowed by the trees around you and you huffed. If you strained your ears, you could hear the soft, snuffled breathing of the boy inside, his face most definitely pressed into his pillow.

“Steve!” You tried again, hands still wrapped tightly around the branches.

The soft snoring stuttered and stopped and you froze, listening for the sounds of movement that would let you know the boy had heard you. Sure enough, the curtains were pulled back, your boyfriend appearing in the open window frame, eyes wide.

He hissed your name and you grinned when it fell from his lips, sounding more like a swear.

“What the hell are you doing?” He whisper yelled, his gaze on you a little panicked as he took in your dirty knees and the height of the tree you had scrambled up.

You beamed at him, eyes roving over his bare chest appreciatively before you extended a hand to him, fingers wiggling.

“Hey pretty boy, you wanna give me a hand here?”

There was a fond, if not a little exasperated, smile on Steve’s lips as he leant out the window and grasped your hand. Stepping back a little, he murmured softly, telling you to be careful as you pushed yourself out of the tree. Your soles found the sill, your free hand wrapping around the open window frame and before you could panic at the feeling of balancing on the edge, the boy’s free hand wrapped around your waist, comforting and heavy.

He practically lifted you into his room, your body pressed up against his and you hummed happily at the feel of him, still warm from sleep. He let you slip down his front, his hands bunched in your shirt - his shirt, he noticed with delight - and as you moved, he exposed the bare skin on your sides, your stomach.

Steve couldn’t help but smooth his thumb over your navel, biting back a smile at the stray leaf that was stuck in your hair. Plucking it out, he grinned down at you. “What are you doin’ here sweetheart, tryin’ to to give me a heart attack or something?”

If he wasn’t already guiding you over to his bed, you would’ve pouted and asked him if he didn’t appreciate your tree climbing efforts. But the boy had wrapped a strong arm around your waist, humming contently as he pulled you back into the nest of white sheets that smelled like him.

You weren’t close enough until you were both sharing the same pillow and Steve pressed the bridge of his nose into the column of your neck, drawing lines over it until you caught the hint and tipped your head back for him. Shivers raised across your body as he pressed kisses across the skin there, your arms winding around his neck and holding him to you.

“Just wanted to see you,” you mumbled, already feeling soft with sleep and Steve. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He pulled back to look at you, brown eyes knowing as he let his gaze roam over your features. Steve noted the slight downturn to the corner of your lips, the dark circles that started to shadow the skin underneath your eyes and he frowned.

But he didn’t question you, didn’t push it, ‘cause you were pressing yourself further into him, the need to be close becoming suddenly overwhelming. You pushed your face into the crook of his neck, your fingers finding the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck and you twisted them around each digit.

You sighed into him, soft and sweet and Steve smiled when he felt your lips press into the spot underneath his ear.

“And here I thought that I was s’posed to be the one sneaking in through your bedroom window,” he whispered, his hand sneaking up the sides of your top, warm palm running flat across the curves of your waist, teasing the soft skin on the underside of your breast.

“Thought I’d give you the night off,” you answered, toeing off your converse and wincing when they thumped to the floor. You both stilled, listening for any movement in the quiet house. “I didn’t realise your parents were home.”

Your legs tangled with Steve’s, wrapped around the light sheets, both of you too warm for anything but the other's body heat. Your hand travelled down to his chest, smoothing over the ridges of muscle there, the leftover marks that were starting to scar on his side. You worried your lip between your teeth as your finger flitted around the edges of the raised skin and he bumped the tip of his nose into yours to gain your attention, his hand wrapping around yours.

“Hey,” he scolded gently, bringing your hands between your bodies, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, to your fingertips, “you either gotta stop worrying or tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You let out a huff of breath, pulling away just enough so you could meet Steve’s gaze. His brown eyes were gentle, still soft with sleep and concern for you but he didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you, fingers ghosting over your curves.

“Just struggling to sleep, y’know?” And he did, god Steve did. You closed your eyes, let your forehead fall into the boy’s bare chest and you pressed your lips to the dip in his collarbone. “Bad dreams.”

You didn’t offer any other information on the matter, you didn’t really need to. Because when the boy closed his eyes at night, he was at the bottom of the lake looking up, watching you dive into the darkness after him. Except in his dreams, you didn’t reach him and he couldn’t break free to find you.

He woke up sweating, panting, more often than not. Alone and on edge, awake until the early morning sun bled through the cracks in his curtains and he deemed it an acceptable hour to call your house phone and wake everyone up - he just needed to hear your voice.

So he nodded, silent and understanding, fingers picking at the flyaway lengths of your hair and he tucked them behind your ear, the slow, methodical movement of it all lulling you into the most relaxed state you’d felt all night.

“S’nice,” you told him, voice softer and slower as sleep settled over you.

Steve hummed his reply, his smile hidden in the noise and he wondered what it would take to have you in his bed every night. He’d given you a spare key months into your relationship but you hadn’t had to use it all that much, not until the world decided to implode again, not since monsters and nightmares came crawling back out of the splits in earth.

When you did, it was usually ‘cause he was in a shower after work and he always delighted in the surprise of you appearing in front of the frosted glass, giving him a show as you slipped off your clothes, letting your underwear stutter down your hips and pool at your feet before joining him under the spray.

But then again, his parents were never home. They’d arrived back from whatever business trip they’d been on for the past few weeks when he was already tumbling into bed, his mothers head appearing from his door, checking that her son was indeed alive.

If she noticed the marks on his side, the silver stretches of skin that were beginning to heal and scar, she didn’t say shit.

“Can I stay here tonight?” You whispered into his skin, and then you added a soft please, as an afterthought, as if the boy needed convincing.

He chuckled into the crown of your head and you felt his smile as you grabbed at the waistband of your shorts, still too warm despite the open window, the lack of sheets around you both. You wiggled out of them lazily, rolling onto your back for a second as you kicked them off your ankles, leaving you in Steve’s shirt and a pair of underwear that said ‘Wednesday’ on the front.

It was Friday.

“Hot,” Steve grinned, only half joking, and he smothered a laugh when you slapped at him without any real heat, letting him wrap you back into his arms.

“You really think I was letting you crawl back out my window?” He told you, a hand roving quick and appreciatively over the curve of your ass before it snuck back underneath your shirt, pressing against the small of your back.

You shrugged, yawning, despite knowing the answer, despite knowing that there wasn’t a chance in hell the boy was letting you go. It was easier together. The world turned softer, slower, when you were with Steve. The night seemed less dark, and the chances of monsters creeping out from underneath your bed seemed slimmer if you were in his.

“Not a chance sweetheart,” he told you and despite sleep pulling your eyes heavy and closed, you lifted your head blindly to him, searching and needy.

He gave you what you wanted immediately, lips pushing against your own, soft and warm and you could taste the traces of spearmint that sleep hadn’t taken from him yet. Despite being wrapped around him, half naked in his bed, it was a kiss that made you feel safe, at ease.

A kiss that made his arms wrap around you a little tighter than before, a kiss that was sleep slow and languid, and by the time he pulled away, nose nudging yours, your head sunk into his pillow even further.

“Get some sleep, yeah?” You heard him murmur into your jaw, lips pushing extra kisses there and making you smile. “You got me all night.“

And wasn’t that just something fantastic?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic

3K notes · View notes