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nellasbookplanet · 4 months

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Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

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kvnis · 3 months

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Obsessed with ur work ohmygod

May i request :)

How about your bf scara saves u from bullies and when u two get home he fucks the hell out of u to make u feel better about the bullies 🤭🤭

౨ৎ ﹒i love you , don’t believe me ?

── ୨୧：sub!reader x dom!scaramouche

୨୧﹑ synopsis :; you’re so fixated on the mindset of scaramouche not loving you, all because of some insignificant bullies? fine then, let him prove that he loves you.

୨୧﹑ genre :; smut, nsfw

୨୧﹑ cw :; fem!reader, established relationship, creampie, marking/biting, fingering, hair pulling, not proofread.

﹒notes ! ⸜⸜ hihi , i’ve not had a lot of motivation recently, but i managed to finish this after days and hours of procrastination!

you were currently walking back to your house, hand in hand with scaramouche. there were slight tears in your eyes that slowly cascaded down your cheeks in minimal amounts. you looked at the back of his head, admiring the way his hair swayed in the wind.

he squeezes your hand, pulling you more to his side and you almost stumble over your own two feet. you huff, keeping up with his pace.

your mind keeps glancing back to the situation just a couple hours before. you had practically been cornered up against a wall, having no way to escape whilst you practically got berated for no reason. you only managed to get away once scaramouche intervened, yet he couldn’t have prevent their thoughts from infecting your mind.

were you really not up to scaramouche’s tastes? did he even like you? you couldn’t help but frown, his cold nature made everything seem unreadable to you, so you couldn’t decipher the truth from the lies.

you didn’t even realise you were physically frowning until you felt a pinch on your cheek.

“what’s that face for?” scaramouche asks you, clearly referring to your gloomy expression.

you shake your head in dismissal, shrugging him off and saying that everything was fine. he just leaves the topic with an unenthusiastic ‘tch’.

you both eventually arrive at your home, and you unlock the door shakily before walking in. a sigh escapes your slightly parted lips, and you make a move to return to your room.

scaramouche knew how this went; you’d go up to your room, ignore anything and everything and just sleep your troubles away. so, before you even left his range, his arm darted out to grab you by the waist, guiding you down to the couch.

“talk.” he looks at you bluntly, clearly knowing that something was up. he was too observant, and that was probably the only thing you detested about him.

you fidgeted with your sleeves, before deciding to just come clean. “some of the… things they said… i’m starting to question whether they were true or not.”

scaramouche tilts his head at you, observing every little motion you made. he wasn’t missing any details. “what type of things were they saying?”

“they were saying things like… like how you wouldn’t like someone like me…” your face begins to drop to the ground, before scaramouche almost lovingly grabs your jaw, shifting closer to you and easing you down onto the couch with his body.

he shakes his head, his free hand going to your waist and squeezing roughly. he looks at you with disbelief. “and you were stupid enough to believe them?”

you face contorts into a frown, slightly embarrassed. you were so easily manipulated by your peers, and it made scaramouche tease you relentlessly. however, this time, he seemed quite comforting about it.

he chuckles under his breath at your reaction, kissing your forehead and cheek, before trailing down to press his lips against yours.

it was quick and hard to realise it had even happened. if you blinked, you would’ve probably missed it.

“you’re so naive… so gullible,” his hands move to the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping into the band of your underwear while he’s at it. “do you really need me to show you how much i love you?”

you stiffen slightly as he tugs your bottoms down with one swift go, and you’re shocked at the urgency of his advances. you writhed slightly, feeling him already run his fingers over your clothed folds. you were getting wetter by the minute, your slick almost soaking through the fabric entirely. it immediately makes your face flare up with even more embarrassment.

he begins to kiss down your neck, occasionally licking, just to gauge your reaction. every time he does, you flinch belatedly, almost like your brain was taking twice the time to process all the stimulation.

his fingers eagerly pull your panties off and to the side, only to impatiently shove two fingers inside your dripping hole. you almost instantaneously clench around him, biting your lip as a soft moan escapes you.

“i don’t love you… hm?” his breath brushes the shell of your ear, lips barely grazing the nerves. you felt as if you were on fire as he began to make a scissoring motion with his fingers, stretching out your hole for him. “then, what’s this i’m doing…?”

your breathing staggers, feeling the cold drag of his digits inside of you. you whimper as a response, too timid to say anything in reply.

as his fingers work inside of you, scaramouche begins to palm his growing erection. he was growing hard, simply by hearing your soft moans, whimpers and the amount of slick now coating his fingers. he pulls them out, watching a string connecting the tips of his fingers to your hole stretch out before breaking.

your hips jerk up as his clothed cock grinds up against your sopping pussy, desperately chasing the hot friction. you closely watch him with half lidded eyes as he slips off his pants, revealing his length for you. you were now hyperaware of everything around you, feeling the way he breathed against your neck, the way his hands burned their imprint into your thighs as he spread them. it sent your mind into overdrive, overcoming your senses and making you want more of him.

he rests his hands on your hips, slowly pushing his entire length into you. his lips press against yours, silencing your cries as he bottoms out. the feeling of your cunt immediately clenching down on him so needily almost makes him cum on the spot.

his hips languidly pulls his length out of you, until only the tip is splitting you open, before pressing back inside. he admires the sounds you make, the soft, panting breath escaping against his lips. the subtle way your thighs twitch around his waist makes him chuckle out breathily, the warmth fanning against your face.

his pace eventually speeds up, turning from slow grinds into deliberate slams, evidently making you moan out, each and every single time. he always knew the ways in how to turn you limp below him, the ways to make you crumble weakly with each of his thrusts.

a hand rests on the side of your neck, tilting your head with his thumb to make you look at him in the eyes. you eyes are slightly glassy, and when you blink a fresh tear rolls down your temple. his thumb immediately brushes it away, giving you a soothing kiss on the cheek.

“don’t cry, why are you crying?” he lets out an amusing exhale, watching you open your mouth to speak, but only sounds of pleasure coming out. “i love you, you know? dunno how you’re so stupid to think otherwise...”

his words of affection makes heat swell in your gut, and he takes note on the way your hole clenches and unclenches around him. his eyes teasingly narrow at you, glancing down to observe the state of your folds.

you look down alongside him, but you don’t stare for long as your flustered from how wet you are, the lewd sounds reaching your ears. however, you couldn’t deny the way it turned you on. it was awfully shameful, yet you didn’t have to look twice at scaramouche for him to know exactly what was going through your mind. he knew you too well for that.

his thrusts grow harder, faster, deeper, until your body is twitching and begging for release. he was hitting just the right spots inside of you, making your eyes roll and your fists tighten into his hair. you writhe, feeling an approaching orgasm. it’s almost laughable, how he was able to reduce you to such a sight with minimal effort.

he drags his lips along your skin, letting himself take indulgence in the unmarked skin of your shoulder. he eyes you, taking a fold of skin into his mouth and sucking up multiple marks, until your whole shoulder was his own personal canvas, blooming in beautiful marks of red and purple.

you gasp, head getting thrown back at the added sensations. your eyes flutter closed, a loud whine escaping your mouth as you approach your peak. your hands bunch up and tug at his hair, grasping for anything to keep you composed.

your mind goes numb, riddled with pleasure as you came, gushing all around his cock and coating it in another layer of your slick. a proud smirk reaches scaramouches face as he watches your cunt suck him in impossibly deeper while you orgasmed. he shallowly fucked you through it, giving you time to compose yourself before pulling you closer, pressing his hips flush to yours.

he continued his movements against you, letting his lips brush against yours ever so often. a moan exits your slightly parted lips as you gasp for air, sucking your teeth as he brings back the roughness in his thrusts, not caring that you just came. he was determined to make you cum as many times as possible in one night.

“pfft, ‘i don’t love you’, huh?” he scoffs, looking into your watery eyes with his own lust-stricken ones. “how could you think that shit when i make you cum like this?”

you look at him with a pout, before replying to him with a simple hum. all doubts in your mind have been thoroughly removed, and the only thing in your mind was how good he was making you feel right now.

you whip your head to the right, letting his lips gain comfort in the crook of your neck. his tongue swirls its imprint into your flesh, occasionally sucking just to throw you off guard. every time he does you writhe, making his grip on your thighs tighten.

he pushes one of your thighs up to your chest, bending it and manipulating it to throw it over his shoulder, enabling him to thrust his cock deeper into your sensitivity. your noises gradually increase in pitch, and it’s not long before your cumming around his length again. your body flushed numbly, twitching as the crest of your pleasure washes over you. your head lolls limply, and you try to catch your breath as he groans in your ear. the noise did not help with your arousal right now.

you were exhausted, and you firmly believe you can’t go another round. your legs were trembling in his grip as you looked at him with pleading, heavy lids.

“don’t worry, ‘m almost done…” scaramouche mutters into your ear, breathing heavily as he twitches inside of you, feeling his impending orgasm. his bangs were sticking to his forehead, and he uses your neck to latch onto in order to cover up—what he viewed to be embarrassing—his noises.

he moans into your flesh, before the rhythm of his hips falters and he releases inside of you, filling your walls with his sticky cum. you feel the warmth spill inside of you, your wettened lashes glancing over to his face, which he lifted from your neck with an exhale. you could see the flush on his cheeks and the slight sweat on his skin.

his eyes lock onto yours, and he gives you a smirk. he doesn’t pull out; instead, he lifts you by the waist and sits back on the couch, making you straddle him.

he firmly grips your cheeks, not letting you slack out on your shared eye contact. he searches your eyes, sifting through every shred of emotion shown through your pupils. he pulls you down so your lips just barely brushed, before speaking.

“still think i don’t love you?” he looks you up and down, taking in your spend form. he felt a mix of his cum and yours leaking out of your hole, tightening his grip on your cheeks at the feeling. you wince and end up shaking your head.

“n-no…” you meekly admit, thighs trembling around his lap. “it’s just—”

“forget about them.” he snaps quickly, using his free hand to guide your hips up his length, before slamming your body down. you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your head face downward, hair falling to cover your face. he brushes your hair out of your face, roughly squeezing your cheeks. “‘cause i’m not done yet. gonna fuck that brain of yours silly…”

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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month

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could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

John “Soap” MacTavish: Soap is a bit of a tease. (wc: 374) Kyle “Gaz” Garrick: Kyle talks you through it. (wc: 457) John Price: Wants you to watch. (wc: 404) Simon “Ghost” Riley: Simon pins you down. (wc: 391)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

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velvetures · 10 months

Note

could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>

pls and ty 🙏🏻

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic

a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.

Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.

You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.

At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.

What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.

Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.

Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.

Knowing that gave him… fantasies.

Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.

Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.

Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.

Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.

Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon answered #anon <3 #anon ask

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theslut4smut · 1 year

Text

𝘁𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 | 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻

𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: smut

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: y/n is struggling with learning korean and seungmin is here to help! with some extra motivation 😉

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.7k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, established relationship, non-idol au, kissing, teasing, slight degradation and hitting, a sprinkle of pussy slap, face and finger fucking, hair pulling, penetrative and unprotected sex

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: anything bolded means that i typed it in english, but the characters say it in korean

i didn’t want to type a full on foreign language since i know that can be a lil intimidating to read and i also feel that it’s disrespectful? of me? since i don’t speak that language? okay! 🩷

_____________________________________

“y/n, i know you can do better than that.” seungmin shakes his head slightly as his brown eyes lock onto yours.

you huff before throwing your head back. “seungmin, i’m just not meant to learn korean. i’ve been trying at it for months now and it’s not sticking.”

you slump further into the comfy sofa the two of you were sitting on as you let out a groan.

“too bad. i’m not letting you give up this easily just because you messed up a few times.” he responds.

“seungmin!” you whine.

“y/n!” he mocks.

you glare at him before rolling your eyes.

“try to remember why you wanted this. what drives you to increase your fluency?”

“i don’t know.” you quickly respond, messing with the fabric of your shorts.

“y/n.” he says firmly.

you groan once more.

“mm...” you bite your lip as you look around the room. “i really wanna have more meaningful and deeper conversations with the guys. like minho or jeongin.”

“there you go.” he says, pointing at you.

“and those shows you watch.” you start, sitting up. “i wanna be able to understand what’s going on instead of just laughing whenever i see you laugh.”

he stifles a laugh.

“it’s not funny!” you say with a faux pout.

“i didn’t say it was funny, y/n. it’s endearing, actually.” he tilts his head to the side. “is that all?”

you feel the warmth of embarrassment cloud the skin of your cheeks as you begin picking at your nails.

“well… i wanna talk to you.” you start, looking at him with slight embarrassment.

he raises his brows. “you’re going to have to further elaborate, y/n.”

he was such an asshole sometimes. he knew exactly what you meant. but you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with having him say it for you.

“i… wanna use it during our… intimate moments.”

you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face as you avoid looking at him.

it’s not like this was a new thing for the two of you. you had been together for awhile now and had explored each other sexually more times than you could count.

there was just something about this that made you feel so shy.

“is that so?” he finally speaks.

you bury your face into one of the pillows next to you as you made an uncomfortable whimper of some sort.

“no, no. look at me.” he reaches over and redirects your gaze back onto him.

you stare up at him bashfully as he held your face firmly in his grasp.

“you know i’d love that for us. having my pretty girl talk dirty to me in a different language? gets me worked about just thinking about it.” he stops to press his forehead against yours. “but how do you expect to be on that level when you can’t even properly introduce yourself?”

you push him off of you, causing him to laugh loudly.

“you’re a dick.” you snap, crossing your arms.

“y/n.” he sighs, sitting up and adjusting the wrinkles your shove left in his shirt. “i’m not trying to be mean. i just want you to do your best. you’re being really insecure about the whole thing and that’s only hindering your progress.”

“it’s hard, seungmin. i can’t get my brain to retain anything.”

it’s silent for a moment as seungmin taps his chin in thought.

“you’re just not motivated enough.” he says.

you glare at him. “did i not just tell you all of the reasons i started this whole language learning bullshit?”

“no, no.” he closes his eyes as he shakes his head. “those are all long term goals. they’re not obtainable until you’ve reached proper fluency, which then leads you to feel discouraged because of how far out of reach they seem.”

you look at him with slight confusion.

“how about this.” he starts, biting the inside of his cheek. “for every answer you get correct, you get a kiss.”

you perk up, a wide smile decorating your face.

he holds a finger up at you, signaling there was more.

you furrow your brows at him.

“i believe that training yourself should require both rewards and punishments.”

oh god.

here he goes again. being a big meanie.

“you’ll get your kiss from me when you get something right, but if you don’t… that’s one item of clothing from me off.” he smirks as he looks into your eyes. “and you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

your jaw drops. “that’s not fair! you know i can’t stand the teasing, seungmin. that’s just gonna distract me even more.”

“you have to learn one way or another.” he shrugs. “and i feel this will be the most effective for you.”

this was just great.

seungmin knew how easy you were. how the littlest thing had you so desperate and needy for him.

he was stubborn too. which meant no getting out of it.

you knew that you better get it together and start saying some correct answers, or else you’d be feeling the pain of deprivation.

“alright, come on. i need you to focus.” seungmin says.

you let out a small and shaky breath as you got into a more comfortable position on the sofa.

“alright, we’re meeting for the first time. how would you introduce yourself to me?” he asks.

you bite your lip as you look around. “formal or informal?”

he smiles as he grabs your face and kisses your lips tenderly. “ah, you get a kiss for that one. i wasn’t even thinking.” you bat your lashes up at him with a sweet smile before he continues. “let’s do formal.”

you clear your throat as you straighten your posture. “um… hello… my name is y/n.”

he chuckles softly before placing his hands on either side of your waist. “baby, you don’t have to be so nervous. it’s just me.”

you close your eyes as you let out a sigh.

“don’t let that discourage you.” he starts, caressing the side of your cheek. “i just want you to relax.”

“okay.” you say.

“why don’t you try that sentence again? this time with more confidence.”

you nod before taking another deep breath.

“hello, my name is y/n.”

he smiles before pecking your nose.

you pout, causing him to furrow his brows. “what?”

“just a nose kiss? at least give me one on my lips!”

he shrugs. “all you did was introduce yourself. nothing too impressive.”

you cross your arms. “some encouraging teacher you are.” you roll your eyes.

seungmin sighs as he shakes his head at your ridiculousness.

“now.” he starts, clearing his throat and adjusting himself on the sofa. “tell me about yourself. how old you are, any hobbies. things like that.”

you bite your nails as you rack through your brain, trying to remember all of the words and vocabulary seungmin had taught you over the last few months.

“um, i’m- i mean, i am… thirty years old.” you give him a small smile, awaiting his response.

he tilts his head to the side. “you’re thirty?”

you gasp, burying your face in your hands. “the numbers are so hard to remember!”

he clicks his tongue before making a tsking sound. “you know what that means.”

seungmin pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before leaning back into the sofa.

it’s just his chest. just his olive toned, soft, lovely chest. you feel your heart rate quicken.

he smirks knowingly, cocking an eyebrow. “what do you like to do in your free time?”

you close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. why did you have to be so weak for this man?

“i enjoy baking.” you respond, eyes still squeezed shut.

“oh? what’s your favorite dessert?”

your eyes snap open, looking at your boyfriend. “how am i supposed to know what you’re saying?!”

“how are you supposed to learn if you’re only being asked questions in english? that’s not realistic. you know what i’m saying, y/n. break apart the sentence and figure out the words you know.”

you take a deep breath as you picture what he’s saying, picking out the words that you do recognize until you’ve created a somewhat sentence of your own in your mind.

“[favorite dessert]”

he smirks slightly, nodding his head. “very good.” he places a kiss on your lips. his fingers ghost over your skin as he does, never getting too close.

it left you yearning for more. how could he just kiss you and leave it at that? he surely couldn’t go on for much longer. but you knew kim seungmin; stubborn and aware of his affect on you.

“what are your plans for the day?” he asks.

you glare at him, causing him to laugh softly.

“seungmin-” “what are your plans for the day?”

he gestures for you to speak.

you groan before rolling your eyes. “breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“hey.” he starts, furrowing his brows. “you don’t get to be mean to me in a language you can’t even properly say your age in.”

you sigh and shake your head. this small talk was not going to do it for you.

“have you eaten?”

you whimper softly and involuntarily at the thought of how long this could last, causing his mischievous smirk to widen and dick to twitch.

“how are you feeling today?” he changes the question and gets closer to you, rubbing your inner thighs while gently touching the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. you feel his breath fanning on your collarbone, causing goosebumps to paint the surface of your skin.

you shiver, placing your hand on top of his. “y-you said no touching.”

“i didn’t say anything about me touching you, did i?” he raises his brows at you. you bite your lip, feeling as if you could cry at just how worked up you were.

“now, answer my question.”

you let a shaky breath out. “i’m feeling frustrated.”

“awe, why?” he nibbles at your ear while cooing.

“you’re so mean, minnie.” you say softly, squeezing your legs together as you try to fight the throbbing pain in between.

“let’s set up a little scenario.” he starts, playing with the outline of his dick in his sweatpants, making your mouth water. “you want something really bad. but, you have to ask me for it. how would you say it?”

you let out a whine, quickly getting up from the couch.

seungmin places a firm grip onto your arm and pulls you down. you give him a shove, turning away from him.

he pins both of your hands down before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “you are not giving up. you cried and cried about how much this meant to you and now you’re acting like a brat. how many times am i going to have to put you in your place before you realize that you don’t always get your way with me?”

you begin breathing quickly as your head spins.

he places a hand on your rising chest, looking into your eyes. “beg for it.”

you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a moan slipping out. you look down to see seungmin’s knee firmly pressed against your thinly clothed core and grinding.

you look up to him, panting. he cocks an eyebrow as he waits for your answer.

“i-i need you, p-please.” you swallow and release a shaky and desperate breath. “i need you so bad.”

“oh.” he coos. “would you look at that? struggling to make simple conversation, but you sure know how to beg, don’t you?” he places a firm slap on your thigh, causing you to cry out.

“so nasty and desperate all of the time, aren’t you?” he says, yanking your pajama shorts off.

one less layer made you realize just how wet you were. if only seungmin could be as easy as you were. one look at your swollen and eager sex would have him practically clawing at you. his lips would be on yours while his cock was stuffed inside of you, filling and stretching out your warm walls.

the sting of another slap causes you to snap away from your heavenly thoughts and moan, this time right on your pussy.

“i asked you a question.” he snaps.

you take a moment, truly trying to remember what.

“y-yes, seungmin.” you whine. “so nasty, just for you.”

you lean in to kiss him, only for him to stop you with two single fingers against your lips. you pout.

“what did you do to deserve your kiss?” he looks down at you as he speaks.

“i’ve been good. so, so good.” you grab onto his torso desperately, pulling him closer.

he scoffs before pushing your hands off of him.

“seungmin!” you whine, arching your back as you try to get some relief.

he grabs your face firmly, squishing your cheeks together as he does. “all you do is bitch and complain. why don’t you put that mouth to good use for once?”

before you could say anything, he re-positions you to your knees on the couch, quickly removing both pairs of bottoms he still had on.

you weren’t going to tell him that he was the one who was technically giving in. that he was the one who was giving into you. that you hadn’t gotten enough answers incorrect for him to even fully undress yet.

for once, you got the better of him. he couldn’t control himself over you.

but you couldn’t tell him that he lost. you needed him too bad to risk him realizing his mistake and making you wait even longer.

“stick your tongue out.” he speaks soft, yet firm.

you quickly oblige, putting the wet and soft muscle on full display for him. you bat your pretty lashes up at him, knowing how crazy it drove him.

he slaps his dick on it a couple of times, causing strings of your spit and his pre-cum to stick together. he hisses at the sinful sight.

he sticks his length in and pushes until he hits the back of your throat. you cough, trying to pull away.

“ah.” he holds you by the throat. “this is what you wanted. you don’t get to run from me.”

he teases you by continuing to dip in and out of your warm and soft throat. quick and deep touches to your uvula that causes you to gag before he pulls out again.

“tell me you who belong to.” he orders through gritted teeth.

you let out another gag as he pulls out. “you.” you say breathlessly.

“in korean.” he places his dick in your mouth again, making it to where you only had a few seconds in between to speak.

“i’m yours.” gag. “i belong.” gag. “to you.”

“yes you do.” he inserts himself fully, this time grabbing a handful of your hair before thrusting in and out quickly.

you choke as he fucks your throat at a rapid pace, feeling your slick pooling underneath you.

drool and mascara stain your oversized top as he continues his movements.

he rubs his palm over you throat, loving the feeling of his bulge through the skin.

you lose yourself to the feeling of slight oxygen restriction, the way he twitched and throbbed in your mouth, his strong grip on your face. there was no better feeling than being dominated by seungmin.

the trance like state you were in had you completely unaware that he was no longer in your mouth and that you were now lying on your back.

he quickly puts the both of you into the spooning position before lifting the leg of yours closest to him and running his two middle fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“m-minnie.” you say, eyes rolling back.

“should i give you the satisfaction?” he asks, teasingly. “you really didn’t work that hard today.”

you begin to bable incoherent words, far past the point of understanding and clearly deep in subspace.

he finally fulfills your craving as he leans down and captures your lips into a deep and passionate kiss.

you moan into his mouth.

his two digits make their way inside of your needy cunt, causing you to break the kiss as you sing in ecstasy.

there’s no preparation or warming up as he immediately pumps his fingers in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sound of your squelching heat.

it reminds you of how shy you used to be with seungmin. how he had to create this slut that you’ve become. he likes to say it’s always been there and that he just brought it out of you, but it didn’t matter anymore.

this state of vulnerability would have your past self red in the face and full of embarrassment. the way you obey every command he has, fulfill any of his wishes, let him control you both mentally and physically.

it made you so hot for him.

you squeal as you feel the intense build up of an orgasm, grabbing onto his forearm as a way to ground yourself.

he removes his fingers and stands on his knees.

“n-no! minnie, minnie!” you claw at his arms, too desperate to notice that he’s actually just moving you onto your tummy.

he laughs like the little shit he is as he takes in your fucked out state all caused by him. he loves it too much.

he arches your back before lifting your ass up to him, rubbing the tip of his dick at your entrance.

you mindlessly grind against him, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your own pleasure.

“awe.” he coos, stroking your sweaty and tangled locks. “so needy. impatient.” he yanks a fistful of hair, causing your head to jerk back.

you moan loudly.

“you think you can fuck yourself the way i do? go ahead. show me.”

you whine like a bitch in heat before inserting his long length into you, sloppily circling your hips.

he laughs and shakes his head at your cute yet poor attempt to satisfy yourself.

he knew that he ruined you a long time ago. your vibrator would never be his tongue, your fingers would never be his, those flimsy and lifeless dildos would never hit every spot inside of you the way his dick did.

but it was adorable to watch you try.

"it's not easy, is it?" he asks.

“no.” you cry, genuine tears slipping past your lashline, making your cheeks a sticky and pink mess.

“i know it’s not, baby.” he says softly, placing his hands on your hips. “you require a lot to please. not just anyone can do it. not even you.”

you feel a shiver run up your spine at his words.

“why don’t you thank me, huh?” he wipes your pitiful tears before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “thank me for always being able to take care of you. being so good to you.”

“in korean?” you ask, grinding harder on his length.

“there you go. already catching on. so much smarter than you lead everyone to believe.” he massages the skin of your hips roughly, causing you to squeeze and contract on his cock.

“t-thank you so much. for always taking care of me. and treating me good.”

“good girl.” he whispers as he slowly begins to thrust in and out.

the feeling causes your mind to go blank as you take in the addictive sensation of his length brushing past every surface of your sensitive walls.

“keep going.”

“thank you for being so amazing. so handsome and smart. you’re- you’re the greatest i could ever have.”

you gasp as he snaps his hips into you, beginning his intense pounding as he grabs onto your hair once again.

“ah! y-yes, seungmin!” you cry out, grabbing onto the hand of his that was pressed into the couch.

all of his prior teasing made it to where you knew you weren’t going to last another second of him inside of you. he had just started, but you already felt your previously denied orgasm making a much stronger comeback.

“m-min, i’m gonna cum!” you scream, digging your nails into his skin.

“what do you say when you want something?” he responds breathlessly, feeling his peak approaching as well.

“please! please, please, please!”

he feels himself throb at you remembering to use korean without him asking.

“fuck, cum.” he demands.

stars cloud your vision as you release onto his hard cock, the screams and cries falling from your lips most likely being heard from planets away.

he spills inside of you with a groan, gently fucking you through your orgasm and allowing you to come back down.

you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“oh my god.” you say softly, closing your eyes as you exhale.

he flips you onto your back before cuddling up with you, peppering your face with kisses.

seungmin giggles against your skin. “that was pretty good, huh?”

you playfully glare at him.

“you know.” he starts, placing his chin on your chest as he looks up to you with his cute puppy eyes. “you sure knew a lot of what to say. i think you’re better than you give yourself credit for.”

“or maybe i’ve just studied things to say when you’re fucking me instead of the basics like i should be.” you respond with a smile.

he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

he places a kiss onto your lips. this one different from the rest. soft and filled with love. you smile onto his lips.

“you really are more capable than you think. you just need to apply yourself more. i’m serious about not letting you give up.” he points at you, raising his brows.

“yeah, yeah. i know.” you lay his head back down. “korean lessons are over for the day. now it’s cuddle time.”

“same time tomorrow, though.” he says.

you cover his face with a pillow.

“i’m serious!” his muffled voice yells.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #seungmin #seungmin smut

2K notes · View notes

cooliestghouliest · 6 months

Text

THE MIDDLE BEDROOM

PAIRING: established Billy/Reader relationship, bff!Eddie is a Peeping Tom

TAGS and C/W’s: this is basically just smut (which means 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), pining undertones, oral (f!receiving), Billy's filthy mouth, SPIT, Eddie's a pervert but Billy's kinda setting him up so really Eddie is just advantageous, m!masturbation, unprotected PiV

WORD COUNT: 3.4k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. basically, i’m trying to revamp everything i’ve published in hopes that an inspiration bug crawls deep, deep inside me and just fucking explodes, leaving only creativity and motivation to replace all of my blood and oxygen. it’s almost 2024, who needs to bleed and breathe anyway??? please remember that likes are greatly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are what make the writer’s world go round. :-) <33

—

It happened at Rick Lipton's annual Halloween party. '86, baby.

There were many nameless faces wandering about the bungalow, all in varying states of sobriety. Eddie only recognized a handful of people, one of them being Billy Hargrove... and the other being you, Eddie's best friend, but also Hargrove's drop-dead, knock-the-fuck-out gorgeous girlfriend.

Eddie had overheard someone guess that you were dressed as a witch. Someone else guessed that you were dressed as Stevie Nicks. With a shrug, you'd answered, "Those are the same thing," like it was the most obvious certainty in the entire world.

You were in a sheer black off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the form-fitting fabric tight in all the right places. There was a long, gracious slit down the side that ran from hip to foot. When you moved in a certain way, Eddie could see that you were wearing black suede thigh-high boots, a little kitten heel clicking against the hardwood floors as you walked.

Right up to him.

"Hi, Eddie," you'd greeted with a smile, eyes wide and welcoming. You swirled the train of your dress a bit, swaying along to some Joni Mitchell song playing in the background. "Happy Halloween."

Eddie didn't get the chance to answer, though he was sure he'd have ended up stumbling over his words anyway, because you just looked so pretty tonight. He was only able to return the smile before Billy appeared beside you.

"Hey, man," Hargrove prompted, Eddie watching as the honey blonde rested lucky fingers on the small of your back. The other palm extended to clap Eddie on the shoulder a few times. "You bring it?"

"Yeah, it's just... uh..." Eddie dug his hand around in the front pockets of his jeans, then in the back pockets of his jeans, then eventually found what he was looking for in the pocket of his denim jacket, bypassing a broken button to reach for the little baggie in question.

As he was about to pull it out, Billy’s hand gripped his forearm, halting him. "Not here," Hargrove instructed. He stepped an inch closer to Eddie, voice lowering to just above a whisper. Eddie had to dip his head forward to try and hear the blonde over the music and commotion around them. "Come upstairs. Like fifteen minutes. Middle bedroom." At Eddie's confused expression (they were at a Halloween party thrown by Hawkins' most profitable drug dealer, for fuck's sake -- who the hell would care about a little coke?), Billy fashioned him a grin, stepping back. "Don't need everybody knowing my business and shit, ya know?"

Eddie guessed that was a decent enough explanation, so he shrugged the absurdity off. He'd always thought Billy was a little weird, anyway. And coming from Eddie Munson, the biggest fucking weirdo of all, that characterization spoke volumes.

After that, you and Billy disappeared. Eddie had followed the tail-end of your dress until you were lost in a sea of strangers, then decided to try and push the rest of the weed he had onto other partygoers, wanting to leave tonight with his current debt to Rick paid and his lunch box full of fresh goodies for the new month ahead.

It was exactly fifteen minutes later that Eddie began his ascent of the stairs to Rick's second floor. He weaved in and out of groping couples, stepped over sleeping Lettermen, and gave a tight-lipped smile to a group of girls that stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed right into him. He stepped to the side, giving them the right of way, before crossing the hallway to his destination: the middle bedroom.

The door was shut, so Eddie knocked. Waited a few seconds, then knocked again.

Still with no answer, he took a large step back, surveying the other doors around him to verify he hadn't gotten turned around and was in fact standing in front of the right room, which he was.

Eddie huffed a sigh. He glanced around the hallway again, checking to see if maybe Hargrove was just running late, but there was no blonde mullet in sight.

Figuring Billy must have been inside and was just... busy or something (actively ignoring him? suddenly gone deaf?), Eddie brought his hand to the knob to twist it and enter.

The room was mostly dark. Not exactly pitch black, thanks to a streetlight seen through the big bay window, but still dark enough that Eddie needed to blink rapidly several times to adjust his eyes to the new lighting.

His immediate thought was that Billy must have either forgotten to meet him up here or had ditched the party entirely and left the dealer packing with a now homeless dimebag of blow.

Off to the right, however, was a thick slab of pale-yellow light emanating from a partially closed door. It was the bathroom, which Eddie knew from sleeping in this very bedroom more than a handful of times since first meeting Rick Lipton a few years back.

And that’s when Eddie started to hear it.

Or, as he would soon come to find out, hear you.

He had at first mistaken the quick, soft breaths of air for sounds of pain or distress, which was why he'd begun inching towards the bathroom in the first place.

But now, standing in the shadow of the ajar door, he was able to peek inside. At the sight before him, Eddie felt his eyes widen, and a prickling warmth started to spread throughout his body.

Those were definitely not sounds of pain or distress.

Billy sat kneeled in front of where you were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Your knees were hiked up towards your chest, your dress laying in a heap on the ground, and you were left only in a bright red bra. And those goddamn suede thigh-highs.

He should have walked away right then, he knew that. He was going to, really, but then you arched your back, your head falling lax behind you, and the fucking obscene moan you let out had Eddie biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he tasted blood.

How was he supposed to leave now?

He couldn't help himself.

You were just... you.

Thoughtful, generous, creative. You went out of your way to ensure no one ever felt judged or left out; you were known to drop everything without debate in order to help anyone who really needed it; you let him host Hellfire in your basement when the club needed a new location in a pinch, and even helped him plot twists in his campaigns.

Truly, Eddie had a very hard time seeing what you saw in that prick Billy Hargrove, but that was something to ponder at a later point. Because right now, Eddie was getting to see you in a position he'd only ever dreamed of seeing you in.

When would he ever get this chance again?

Eddie refused to think too deeply into this, deciding to pretend he didn't have a moral compass for a bit. It was probably bad. Likely even made him a pervert, but he'd been called much worse, so he figured he'd just add this one to the list now, too.

He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to face either one of you again, but his feet just weren't working when his brain tried to tell them to move, and now his cock was starting to fill out the confines of his jeans in a way that had him seeking the relief of the doorframe, his hips acting of their own accord, finding a slow, rocking rhythm.

Billy had his palms splayed out on either side of your inner thighs, holding your legs open. Eddie quickly grew irritated that he couldn't see exactly what the blonde's tongue was doing. He thought that if he couldn't be the one with his own face buried against you, he wanted to at least have an unobstructed, close-up view.

He wanted to see Hargrove's lips wet with your slick, wanted to watch them wrap around your aching clit and suck until you tried to push him away. If Eddie could, he'd hold your arms down while Billy devoured you, wanting you to feel so much pleasure it was borderline painful.

He was pulled out of his fantasy by the sound of Billy's voice, raspy and teasing. "Love when you give me this sloppy fucking cunt," he said, the words themselves demeaning but his tone singing nothing but praises. Billy lowered his head back down, giving you a few long, loud licks.

Eddie knew he himself could be theatrical, but Billy Hargrove was dramatic in his own ways, and it did certainly seem like the blonde loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Apparently, eating pussy and its associated noises fell under this umbrella of Hargrove Histrionics.

Billy pulled his head back to spit several times on your well-loved cunt. Eddie didn't dare to blink as the other man brought two fingers to spread your lips and spit again, this time with your hardened nub as target. Both him and Billy watched intently as the saliva dripped slowly down your slit, past your empty hole, and leaked off of you entirely to darken an already present wet spot on Hargrove's blue jeans.

And fuck, you loved it.

With each assault of Billy's spit, you let out faint little gasps (fucking cute, Eddie had thought), body jolting at the contact, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the moisture filled in every curve of your core.

"So fucking messy, aren't you?" Billy taunted, his free hand moving to palm at his clothed length. Eddie was relieved to see Hargrove finally begin to touch himself, honestly impressed at the self-control the blonde had to disregard his pleasure and focus solely on yours. "Makes it feel so good when I finally fuck this thick cock inside you," he continued, unzipping his jeans as he stood. "You think this pussy's ready to soak me?"

Eddie felt like his skin was boiling. He wished he could eliminate some layers. Or all layers, preferably.

You were staring earnestly up at your boyfriend, a desperate pout on your face as you nodded in vigor. "Please, Billy," you begged, and Eddie couldn't take it any longer. He needed to fist his cock raw, having had enough of this grinding against the wall bullshit.

At the same time Billy dropped his jeans, Eddie did the same, pulling himself out of his boxer briefs. He muffled a groan of relief by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand, his other wrapping around the girth of his dick and just squeezing. He didn’t want to give in before Billy had gotten inside you.

The blonde sure was taking his sweet fucking time though, only wetting his length by sliding himself repeatedly between your lips. You were whining, and Eddie could tell you were trying to angle your hips in such a way that it would trip Billy up and he would slip inside. Good girl, get that fucking cock, Eddie thought, impatient and eager to cum, but not wanting to do so without first catching a glimpse at what you looked like stuffed and fucked full.

"Hmm, I dunno," Billy provoked, tapping his cock against your cunt with loud slaps. "Feels really good just like this, baby. Maybe I'll use the outside to fuck myself instead, cum all over this pretty little pussy, make an even bigger mess. You want that?"

You and Eddie both shook your heads at the same time.

You gave a grumble of annoyance (more of like a testy whimper, really) and brought a hand up to slap playfully at Billy's chest. "Fuck me, Billy," you demanded, your voice throaty and yearning. You dropped the hand at his chest to circle his cock, wrapping delicate fingers around his own and helping to stroke. "Need it inside."

"Oh, you need it, greedy girl?" It appeared he was going to listen to you, much to yours and Eddie's respite, because he lined himself up against your hole with one hand, the other moving to wrap around the nape of your neck. "I didn't know that. I gotta give my girl what she needs then. Can't have anyone thinking I don't take care of you."

Finally -- finally -- Eddie watched as Billy took one thrust to bury his cock inside you completely, the blonde releasing a loud, lewd moan. Eddie gave his own throbbing, sweat-slick length the same treatment, fucking into his fist from tip to base until he felt his tightening balls press against his twitching fingers.

You looked better stretched open than Eddie could have ever imagined -- a natural flush glowed on your skin, your bottom lip tugged tight between your upper teeth, your brows furrowed deep.

Your eyes rolled back as Billy began to move, a satisfied moan escaping your lips at the pace he was setting. The sound, contented yet desperate, was music to Eddie's ears. He wanted to record it and hear it on loop -- as a wake-up call, an afternoon pick-me-up, a bedtime lullaby.

Your hands moved to rest on either side of the surface of the sink below you, supporting your weight as Billy rocked into you with long, languid thrusts. Eddie tried to match Hargrove's pace with the stroke of his hand, envisioning it was his own cock giving you exactly what you needed.

You must have felt fucking good to be buried deep inside of, because Billy, always with something to say, was awfully quiet now.

He watched the other man's face through the reflection in the mirror, saw as Billy's baby blues fervently took in the sight underneath him, knowing he himself would be donning the same expression if positions were switched. Eddie knew Hargrove was admiring your perfect tits bouncing with the force of each thrust, knew he was lost in the dissipated doe-eyes that stared back up at him like he hung the fucking moon, when in reality he was just feeding your cunt some very well-deserved cock.

When your mouth dropped open unprompted, your pink tongue sticking out as far as it could go, that was the beginning of the end for Eddie. Both men knew exactly what you were asking for. Hargrove smirked approvingly at the sight before him, and he slowed the speed of his hips for better accuracy. He gathered as much saliva in his mouth as he could before leaning over you, parting his lips and letting gravity do its job.

Once your mouth was filled, Billy brought a hand to your jaw, forcing it shut. "Don't swallow," he instructed, his thrusts no longer slow and unhurried, but now posthaste and unrelenting.

Eddie could feel the familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, alerting him that his release was maybe a minute away. He fleetingly realized that he was going to have to very quickly clean his upcoming mess and get the hell out of the room before he was caught, but his attention was reeled back in when he heard a series of deep, breathless grunts.

"Okay, shit... spit it out now, baby," Billy was muttering, speech rushed, his head dipped to stare unwaveringly at where your bodies connected. "Oh fuck, spit on my fucking cock."

Eddie watched as you leaned yourself forward, angling your head down to release the spit you'd been holding in from your mouth, just adding to the noisy wetness between your legs.

And that did it. The visual — someone as soft and sweet as you doing something so filthy — had Eddie's toes curling in on themselves in his gym shoes, his hand pulsating around his cock to mimic a clenching cunt as he fucked himself into it. His release spilled out over his fist, dampening the ground below him and the bathroom doorframe. He saw stars.

Billy had followed Eddie right off the brink, muttering praises and obscenities interchangeably as you both came down from your highs. "Listen so well, dirty fucking girl. Always make me cum so hard, fuck, this pussy's so fucking full of me right now."

The sound of the quiet giggles urged out of you by Billy's tickling kisses on your neck were what brought Eddie back to the present reality. He wasn't back at home watching the hottest fucking porno he'd ever seen -- no, he was actually standing in a dimly lit bedroom, covered in his own cum, having just spied on his best friend while she got railed by her boyfriend.

Shit.

Eddie's moral compass came back with a vengeance. He cringed as he rubbed his sticky fingers on the inside of his band tee to clean them, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of crusty white as he made his getaway. He found a towel in a laundry basket and wiped away any remnants of his release from the wall and floor, then tossed it back into the hamper.

Not even able to glance back into the bathroom, his skin now heated from shame and embarrassment rather than arousal, Eddie buttoned up his jeans and hurried out of the room, ready to try and forget that all of that just happened.

About ten minutes later, he was perched against his van about a block from Rick's, where he'd parked. He was smoking a cigarette, having finally began to cool off and calm down. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could convince himself this was all a really vivid hallucination, and maybe he'd be able to compartmentalize his moment of perversion that way.

He just needed to stay away from the two of you for a little while.

But then, because of course...

"Munson!"

Eddie quietly groaned, taking a deep drag off his cigarette to quell his already rapidly growing nerves from just the sound of the other man's voice alone. He turned to face Billy, plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.

"Hey, man," Eddie greeted, his voice surprisingly steady.

Billy held his hands up in a 'What the fuck?' kind of way, brows furrowed. "Thought we had a plan," the blonde replied, stopping just a foot away from the tall metalhead. One side of Hargrove's mouth lifted. He looked predatory. Eddie fought back a hard swallow. "Did you even come upstairs?"

"What..." Eddie's brain went blank at the question. Or was it an accusation? It definitely sounded like one, but Billy didn't seem mad. The blonde was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Y'know," Billy continued. "Because I told you to meet me in the middle bedroom? For the coke?" What had started as the slight of a smirk had turned into a full-blown grin on Hargrove's face. "You good, Munson? Lookin' a little spooked.”

To this, Eddie sobered his expression, shaking his head. "No, just like, busy night, that's all," Eddie answered lamely. Maybe Billy really didn't know. Maybe Eddie was just hyper-paranoid about having been caught that he was reading too deeply into this. After all, wouldn't Hargrove have been pissed to find out he'd been spying? Wouldn't he already have Eddie pinned against the van, spewing threats? "Lotsa deals. Kinda forgot about yours, my bad. Here, lemme get it..."

Eddie began digging around in his pockets, having forgotten again where the coke was. He blamed the alarms of anxiety going off in his brain (thoughts like fuck, he probably knows, which means she knows, and now she's gonna fucking hate me plaguing him).

But Billy said, "Don't worry about it, I'm good. Got my energy hit a little bit ago." The blonde then looked like he had remembered something, and began looking in his own pockets, "Shit, actually. Ya know what? I have something for you."

Eddie was sure the look of confusion on his face was readable. This whole night was turning out to be a fucking fever dream. He didn't think anything else could happen to make it any more surreal.

And then Billy was reaching his hand out to give Eddie something, that I-know-something-you-don't smirk present again, and Eddie took it without looking. He just wanted Billy to walk away so he could go crawl into the back of his van and smoke himself stupid to avoid any and all realizations and repercussions.

"See you ‘round," were Billy's parting words and Eddie just nodded dumbly, mute, and watched him go.

Once Hargrove was out of sight, Eddie opened his hand. At first, it just looked like an unassuming wad of fabric, maybe a sock or something, small compared to the size of his palm.

Eddie unraveled it, holding it out in front of him, and then very quickly tossed it inside his open passenger window, eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen what Billy Hargrove had just given him —

The matching pair of panties to your bright red bra.

#billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #mungrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 month

Note

What’s the difference between Ascended, Aspects, Freljordian demigods, Aurelian Sol, and whatever Soraka’s got going on? Are they all just different varieties of League gods?

Hoo boy, okay, so. First of all, Riot have been pretty adamant that there are no gods in Runeterra, every god-like being that exists in that universe is actually a spirit or just a very powerful being of some kind, but definitely no real gods, no matter how much it seems like they are definitely writing these characters to be actual literal gods.

I don't 100% know why they are so insistent on this, but I imagine it has something to do with censorship and ratings agencies, or maybe they just don't want to have to establish any actual theology on Runeterra. Volibear isn't the god of storms for real, he's just a super powerful spirit that can create storms in the Freljord, but not all of them, so please don't ask us whether every single thunderstorm in the Freljord was something he did deliberately. That sort of vibe.

To go through them point by point:

Celestials & Aspects

The Celestials are beings like Aurelion Sol and Bard, which exist as cosmic entities operating on levels of power and motivation beyond human understanding. They came into existence with the universe itself, and tend to busy themselves governing various parts of its operation. They are, again not gods (Riot is very insistent on this), but Aurelion Sol literally made every star in the galaxy, he's functionally the progenitor god of Creation.

Some of them, though, like to interfere in the mortal world of Runetera in various ways, and they tend to use mortal vessels to do it. That's where we get Aspects: Aspects are mortals who are chosen by the Celestials that live on Mount Targon to contain their power and be their avatars in the mortal world.

Leona is the Aspect of a Sun celestial, Diana of the Moon celestial, Pantheon is the Aspect of War (or he was, until Aatrox killed it, but he retains access to many of its powers), and Zoe is the Aspect of Twilight, and so on.

Soraka is another Celestial in mortal form, but she is NOT an Ascended. Rather than possess a mortal, she created a mortal body for herself and poured the whole of her being into it, which is causing her body to permanently burn up from the inside while she regenerates it with her magic. She lives on Runeterra and acts as a mysterious mystical wise guide and mentor to mortals who need it.

Ascended & Darkin

Ascended are somewhat similar in kind to the Aspects, but usually lesser in power. The Ascended are also human beings infused with Celestial magic and power, specifically with the power of the Sun, although as far as I know, that power is drawn not from the Celestial of the Sun who empowers Leona, but directly from the physical Sun itself. This means the Ascended aren't possessed by Celestials and retain full free will, at the cost (or let's be real: benefit) of being transformed into furries, which extremely coincidentally just so happen to closely resemble the gods of the Egyptian pantheon. but again, they are definitely not gods, please don't put it in the newspaper that they are gods.

I don't know exactly how canon Riot considers this anymore, but the lore was that the Aspects of Mount Targon gifted the power of Ascension to Shurima in order to produce Ascended that could serve as shock-troops in the war against the Void, which is a swarm of extradimensional horrors that are constantly trying to eat the world. Whatever the case, the Ascended DID fight the Void, and it traumatized and corrupted them so badly that they degenerated into body-horror blood monsters called the Darkin.

The Darkin fell into civil war and it got so bad that The Aspect of Twilight (not Zoe but her predecessor in the role) decided to use some magical trickery to imprison them all in their weapons, which is where they've stayed for a few thousand years, getting even more traumatized and mentally destabilized by the total sensory deprivation and solitary confinement. If any mortal touches a Darkin weapon, it immediately assimilates them and uses their flesh as a new host, and then goes on a killing rampage about it. That's where you get your Aatrox, your Varus and (eventually, once he devours Kayn) your Rhaast.

Gods, Spirits & Demons

This is the category for Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and so on. The Freljordian people worship them as gods, but they are, technically, only extremely powerful nature spirits, manifestations of the nature of the Freljord itself, which draw power from the land and to a lesser extent from their worshipers. There are many, many lesser nature spirits, which might be worshiped as gods by particular tribes or hold power over particular areas, but Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and the Iron Boar are the most powerful and most widely revered.

On a similar note, Ionia is absolutely choked to the gills with spirits, because those lands are soaked in magic. They are usually not worshiped as gods specifically, but take the shape of everything from dragons to living trees to sprites and will-o-wisps and which roam fairly freely in Ionia. This includes characters like Lillia, who is the daughter of a magical tree of dreams on whose branches the dreams of mortals grow and mature, and it includes Ivern, who is an extremely powerful and ancient nature spirit formed from the soul of a magical tree.

Demons are distinct from spirits, in that rather than drawing on the power of the land or fountains of magic, they draw on the emotions of living things for their powers. The most powerful demons are known as The Ten, who get their power from the most primal emotions that living things feel. Fiddlesticks is the demon of Fear, and Nilah somehow draws her strength from Ashlesh, the Demon of Joy, whom her order has imprisoned. We don't know who the rest of the Ten are yet, but Riot seems to have that worked out somewhere in their internal deep lore.

Swain has a lesser (but still powerful) demon of secrets called Raum bound in his arm through some sort of deal, Evelynn is a demon of anguish and pain, Tahm Kench is a demon of addiction, and Nocturne is a demon of nightmares.

Besides those, there are an untold number of lesser demons, who feed on more and more specific feelings, and thus are less and less powerful because there's simply less of that stuff around to feed on. They are often called Azakana, and may be demons that feed on feelings as niche as, like, noblemen's fear of their extramarital affairs with handsome commoners being discovered. Yone hunts the Azakana and collects their mask, although even he doesn't know quite what for.

Death

This is where we place the Kindred. Technically they are merely Spirits of Death, but more than perhaps any other category of creature, Riot keeps writing them as Literal Gods of death and I don't think it makes sense to think of them any other way.

The Kindred take on many different shapes all across Runeterra, seemingly influenced in large part by the expectations of the people or creatures who are dying, but their most popular visage is that of a Lamb and a Wolf, hunting together. Lamb's merciful arrow ends your life if you accept that your time is up and go gently into that good night, but Wolf hunts you down and rips you to shreds if you resist and fight to your last breath, destiny be damned.

The Kindred are there for every death on Runeterra, they are the mediators (as far as we know) of all forms of death everywhere, and by far the most classically "anthropomorphic embodiment of universal existence" style god in the lore that we know of. Where a god like Anivia only really has power in the Freljord, the Kindred have power everywhere there is life. Only the undead escape them, and even then, only temporarily.

In Conclusion

YES Runeterra has tons of gods, it obviously has gods, you can't walk five feet in that universe without tripping on a god, but they tend to be gods with hard limitations on their power and influence, and rarely have powers on the level of bending reality itself.

Even Aurelion Sol, who literally makes stars, can't snap his fingers and undo causality, for example, or suspend the laws of physics wholesale.

Riot's weird insistence on "no gods in Runeterra" is more of an affectation, a bit of a put-on, than an actual narrative principle, and most of the gods of Runeterra can be understood very comfortably through the lens of various non-Christian religions like Norse or Greek mythology, or the hero/god characters of something like Polynesian myth.

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radiance1 · 8 months

Text

Based off of the second reblogg made by this wonderful person @percyisawesome

Taking that idea.

So, the Nasty Burger explosion took place, killing everyone Danny loved an shi, then he defeats Dark Danny but Clockwork doesn't reset time so his friends and family still dead dead.

Then he gets captured by the GIW, experimented on and all of that shebang. Then, the GIW makes the decision to try and split him apart, which they succeed in doing because obviously the Fenton boy might be possessed by phantom instead of phantom pretending to be the boy.

So it works, but since ghosts are beings of pure emotions, Danny is just zapped of every human emotion. Nothing but a shell that runs on pure, undeniable logic. Which puts off the GIW, and causes them to hate Phantom even more, because it's obvious that Phantom did something to this poor, poor child who was forced into this very obviously without his input.

Then they just, drop Danny off in Amity Park. All alone, in a far too big and dangerous house with a dead family that he'll never see again. So, what does Danny do? He learns, going through each and every blueprint and file left behind by his parents before his death, even the unfinished blueprints he delves into, completes, even makes his own.

He learns everything dealing with weaponry against ghosts, then starts to learn how to hack into things, almost of par with Tucker but ever a step below him, he learns about plants and their poisons, from non-lethal to extremely deadly.

He learns, and he learns.

Distantly, in the back of his mind that he's tried to push out, is the overwhelming agony being projected to him through the bridge between him and phantom.

The separation of them may have stripped him of his emotions, but not his ability to make ambitions, nor stripped him of motivation.

When the GIW facility fell, it was the easiest thing in his life. They weren't expecting anyone to even know of their location, nor how to hack through their servers and mess with the security system or the power running through the facility. Their unpreparedness was Danny's gain.

The most logical and easiest outcome for the GIW to not be a threat anymore, would be death. So put to death they were, some parts of the facility were contaminated with toxic gas, other parts their own security system against them, or he exterminated them himself when they managed to encounter him.

He had a multitude of weaponry at his disposal hidden away on his body in the form of small trinkets. Ranging from knives, swords, guns, poison, explosives, gauntlets disguised as gloves, etc, etc. All of which, he used to raid the GIW facility and worked exactly to his calculations, letting him calmly walk through the halls and dispatching the stray few that managed to go his way.

He did not care for other ghosts, they were unnecessary in his calculations, whether they managed to escape or not in the oppurtunity he set was up to them. He only came here for one being, his other half.

Phantom.

When he found the cell keeping him contained and opened the door, he would imagine that if he were still capable of feeling, he would be experiencing a large of rage at what he saw. Instead, he cut off the chains keeping his other half fixed to the wall, tore off multiple strips of cloth to wrap around the various wounds on his body- most notable being a vivisection scar, and picked him up to carry outside, and away from the facility.

He already had everything he could've gotten from the database of this facility, but he would most definitely be coming back. The amount of high tech laying around would be a shame if rusted from disuse, especially when it would be impossible to acquire through his own means.

He might even move everything from the Fenton house over here, if only for shorter access to far better equipment.

A few days later, and he does just that. Cleaning up the entire facility- with added help from Phantom- and establishing it as his new base of operations. It's incredibly isolated, well hidden, and has multiple more defenses than just his parent's ghost defenses, defenses that he could use to make this place into a neigh-impenetrable fortress.

Phantom was relatively 'fine' with the move, after being persuaded by Danny. Though he has a high aversion to certain areas, which is understandable, with what he went through.

At the behest of Phantom, the lab coat he frequently wears is fitted more to be a cloak, and to complete the look, a highly advanced gas mask. Phantom said it was 'cool', and, well Phantom was the only one able to put dents in his logic to get his way when he really, really wanted to. Said lab coat was fitted with a high number of smaller- but extensively powerful- ghost shields, while his gas mask acted as a voice changer, an actual gas mask, and a literal laser (That to activate, it's mouth would 'open' and fire).

After Phantom recovered, he still had the ambition to be a hero, even though the threat of ghosts was at an all-time low. Danny would support him, of course, in anyway he wanted, but Danny would not join him.

His goal was to dissolve the Anti-ecto acts, so if that meant he had to drown his hands in the blood of others to achieve it, then so be it. Unfortunately, Phantom wouldn't allow him to harm the innocent, which he would account as collateral damage if it were to happen, so he would have to use different methods than the hostile takeover he used to claim ownership of their new base.

Besides, the Justice league, and the world of heroes, would be a major problem for said hostile takeover. A very true point, told to him by Phantom.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp

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bugsbia · 9 months

Text

Roommate Scaramouche x Reader smut

ʚ maybe your roommate has hidden motives behind his constant annoyances

ʚ BEFORE READING: Established. Dom scara with fem sub reader. Tired reader after a day of shitty classes. Scara is a bit of a brat. Usage of slut, fingering. mating press (although not specified to be such). Overstim. Orgasm Denial.

You just got home from a long day of classes, feeling tired and utterly annoyed at how irritating some of your classmates are, but only did your annoyance get worse upon seeing your roommate.

Scaramouche, your tease of a roomate. Always trying to get under your skin, trying every way he can to just get on your nerves for some sort of sick kick. The smirk across his face as he sat on the couch told you everything, he wasn't going to be any nicer today just because you were tired.

"hah... tired already? That'll make this fun." He mused as he stood up, slinking towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, all so he could get on your nerves.

A groan fell from your lips as you pushed him off, grumbling like an old lady who can't figure out how to use the tv remote "quit touching me jackass, you're so annoying."

He feigned heartache "so rude to me, and yet here I am just trying to comfort my tired roomie!" he turned away, shrugging and going back to his own thing. He relented for now, but that would only last so long.

You quickly went into your room, wanting nothing more but to finally get out of these stupid clothes and relax in bed. You stripped down and put on a simple nightgown before settling down in your cozy little bed, scrolling through random tiktoks and tweets to satiate your boredom.

Your peace didn't last long as Scaramouche walked into your room without knocking, as if he owned the damn place. He let out a small chuckle upon seeing the way you're cuddled up beneath your blankets. "Hiding from me, are you?"

"God, no. Just go away, I'm tired." you retort, the annoyance in your voice evident to Scara, but that didn't stop him from pulling the covers off of you in one foul swoop.

Gasping in response you quickly tried to cover yourself a bit more, your nightgown not leaving a whole lot to the imagination. "Scaramouche! what is your god damn problem?!" you squealed.

His eyes widened slightly upon noticing your clothing, but that wide-eye shock quickly turned to a mix of arousal at how much he liked the way your body looked, and amusement at how he caught you so off guard.

"You seem stressed and so worn out, How about I help you... relieve some stress, so to speak." he said as he winked, making his intentions obvious. It made your angry that he'd even dare to ask that... but the growing arousal between your thighs was undeniable.

The two of you had always had a sort of attraction to one another, but your annoyance towards his teasing attitude and his reluctance to open up meant neither of you brought it up, until now that is.

"Are you serious?" You question, surely he was just teasing? Just another one of his stupid games to get under your skin... right? That's what you thought till he moved on top of you, his knee pressed up against you wettening pussy as he grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

"Dead serious" he responded, and without even giving you a moment to respond his lips crashed down onto yours. His tongue prodding at your lips, asking, almost begging for your permission to enter your mouth, to taste you.

You relented, giving in to months worth of bottled up desire, kissing him back and parting your lips. Your tongues mingled, the kiss growing sloppy and desperate as you subconsciously began grinding against his knee.

He pulled back, the kiss leaving you both a little out of breath as he looked down at you, your cheeks flushed and brows furrowed ever so slightly. "You're getting so worked up... it's almost pathetic."

Moving swiftly he let go of your wrists and grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart so he could have a full view of your panties slowly becoming dampened by your wetness.

"Scara-'' you attempted to scold him for the embarrassing position he'd put you in, but you were quickly cut off when you felt two of his fingers drag down your clothed cunt. Gasping quietly as your hips automatically bucked up into his fingers, trying to chase the hint of pleasure he'd given.

He hushed you "Just be quiet, this'll get rid of your stress." He pulled your panties off, smirking as he gazed down at your wet and needy pussy, just begging for his touch.

Without waiting he got to work, rubbing your clit with one hand and using his other hand to slide two digits inside you, massaging your g-spot as he watched your reaction.

God did he love your reactions, the way your face contorted with pleasure as you tried to fight back a moan by biting your lip. Oh he adored how you so badly tried to fight your desire for him, it just made him want to break you down even more.

You grew closer to your release as he plunged his fingers in and out of you with fervor, teasing your sensitive clit to push you closer and closer, but as you neared your orgasm he pulled away. "don't stop! please!" you whined, being denied your release leaving you needy and so painfully desperate.

Exactly how he wanted you to be, he shoved his fingers into your mouth "Clean your filth off of them" he demanded harshly as he used his free hand to unzip his pants and release his throbbing cock.

As you sucked and licked his fingers clean of your own juices he positioned himself between your legs, his eager cock twitching while he admired the sight of you. Below him, so wet and so ready to be utterly devoured by him.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he wiped any remaining saliva on the blanket beneath you as he then held onto your hips tightly. "I'm gonna make you scream my name." he said in a husky tone.

He slowly entered you earning a small exhale from you as your walls stretched to accommodate his more than average size. "Fuck, you feel so good." he groaned as he began moving, slow strokes at first.

Soft moans began spilling from your lips as he moved inside of you, your pussy so sensitive from you previously denied orgasm. "Scara, more, need more." you cried out, just desperate for your sweet release as the tensenion inside you grew worse by the second, his slow movements almost tortuous.

"Want more? Fine, but you asked for this." He picked up his pace, ramming his cock hard and deep into you, your desperate pleas for release sending him absolutely reeling.

You let out an almost pornographic moan as he picked up the pace, feeling the way he slammed into you and reached the deepest parts of your pussy. At a loss for words from the overwhelming pressure you simply moaned and writhed beneath him, your impending orgasm closer than ever.

Scaramouche began feverishly rubbing at your clit, making the coil in your stomach snap. Your orgasm quickly washed over you, your thighs trembling as you moaned his name loudly, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock as your wetness combined with his precum.

Oh but he wasn't done, he hadn't gotten to cum yet and so his relentless thrusts didn't stop. "wait! is too much!" you whined at the oversensitivity you felt from his thrusts.

"Take it, we're not done till I say so." he chuckled darkly as pushed your thighs up against your chest, his cock only reaching deeper in this position which earnt whined high pitched moans from you.

He held you there, fucking into your overstimulated little cunt with desperation as he neared his own release. The sound of his groans, your moans and skin slapping echoing through the room as you both lose all semblances of care.

His thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching inside you due to his nearing orgasm. "Take it, take my cum you slut." he said darkly with a deep and hard thrust, shooting ropes of hot cum deep inside you. He chased out his orgasm, sloppy little thrusts as he emptied himself inside you.

You looked up at him through dazed eyes as he stopped his thrusts and slowly pulled out. "you're such a fucking mess" he said as he looked at your current state, hair all messy, cheeks flushed and eyes teary as his cum leaked out of your swollen and abused pussy. "so fucking perfect" he murmured as he got up off the bed and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Come on, we both need a shower." he said in a sweeter tone, offering to help you clean up from your messy little encounter.

#Scaramouche x reader #Scaramouche #scaramouche smut #Scaramouche x you #Scara #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin smut #smut #x reader #female reader #established relationship

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aphroditestempleimagines · 6 months

Text

My girl

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader - 18+

Words: 971

Warnings: Care, bath, Massage, Oral (fem!receiving), fingering, aftercare, established relationship (married), praise, fluff & smut combined

Summary: You had a long day and your husband decided to take care of you.

Author's note: It's Nanamin, what can I say?

Colour: very soft and loving like a warm hug

You close the door behind you. It's finally over. You're home. You take off your pumps and drag your feet over the soft carpet of your living room. You do not want to sit with your outside clothes on the couch, but the need to lie down has been grown exponentially ever since you were asked to work overtime. On top of that, things are work were not the best for some time now, the project you had been currently working on being thrown on the rails every other day.

"Y/n?", your husband's voice comes from the kitchen. You smile at the sound. There is nothing more soothing than hearing your name leave his lips. Behind your half-closed lids you watch his shadow approach you. His arms wraps around you as he kneels next to the couch. "Hey", he concerns, "Everything alright? I was worried"

"I bloody hate overtime", you bury your face in one of the pillows.

He chuckles before placing a kiss on your forehead. "You and me both baby", his hand rubs your back. He takes your hand and plants another kiss on your knuckles before leaning close to your ear. "How does bath and dinner sound?", he kisses your cheek.

You give him a tired smile. "That'd be lovely", you place your hand over his.

He smiles. "I'll draw some water. You just go get yourself out of these clothes"

With that, he lifts himself up and disappears into the bathroom. You rub your tired body as you force yourself to stand. Those soft pecks on your skin from him were enough to motivate you to continue. You take off of your shirt easily, yet as you try to wiggle your way out of your trousers you lose your balance and fall onto the vanity's chair.

"What happened?", the commotion has Kento running in the bedroom. He spots you immediately. "Are you alright?", he reaches for you.

"Yes just tripped", you reassure him.

His sleeves are rolled up, his collar undone. His golden hair falls in front of his blue eyes, his glasses nowhere to be seen. He looks deep into your eyes as he kneels in front of you. His hand cups your cheek as he continues to ask about you.

"Kento", you feel the feverish warmth of lust overcome your senses. You are aware of the blush creeping on your cheeks while you lean in to claim his lips as your own.

He takes a deep breath as he reciprocates. You climb down from the chair to his lap, weaving your hands behind his back. His touch is exhilarating as it moves from your hips to your shoulders, his kiss deepening at the sound of your sighs.

"I thought you were tired", he whispers against your lips.

"I am", you say in the drunken tone of your drowsiness, "You just look so hot right now"

You feel his lips curve against yours. He picks you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the edge of your bed. "How am I supposed to react when you say such things?", his hands caress your cheeks before he climbs down to the foot of the bed. He hikes your legs over his shoulders. His kisses mark the path along the stretch marks of your thighs. "Seems my wife is particularly needy today", he pushed your panties to the side, "I'll have to take care of her".

He trails his kisses closer and closer to your folds until his tongue dives between them. Your fingers thread through his golden locks as you pull him closer, a soft moan escaping your chest. Your legs push him against you as he sucks on your bud, his digit slowly entering your walls as he observes your flushed face. You can feel him smile as you call out his name. He plants a few shallow bites on the soft skin of your thigh.

"Is my girl feeling good?", he scissors his fingers inside your walls.

"Mhm", you bite your lip.

You gasp as he inserts a third finger inside you. Your thighs squeeze him as he sets a faster pace. The sound of his own moans vibrates along your walls, setting your heart ablaze. You gasp for breath. Your hips tremble and lift up as your back curves in pleasure.

"Kento! Ah, right-right there!", your hand pushes his head against you as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

He hums against your clit which does all the more to push you over the edge. He holds you high as you ride your orgasm until you collapse, panting on the bed. He climbs up to kiss your lips.

"How was that?", he asks between kisses.

"So good Kento", you pant, "So so good"

He smiles. His hand cups your cheek. His lips caress your forehead. "Let's get you to the bath, alright?", he rasps. You would protest, but the warmth of his embrace as he carries you in his arms makes your eyes even heavier than they already are. "I'm gonna go make dinner alright?", he kisses your cheek.

You reach for his arm as he tries to get up. "Can we please order?", you ask, guiding his hand around you, "I just...I just need you with me right now".

He lets out a deep breath. He sits behind the tub, his arms wrapping around your body as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He kisses your supple skin as he drags the loofa over your torso, covering it with bubbles. "More than rough day huh?", he asks. You nod, pulling his arms tighter around you. "It's gonna be alright, my love", he holds you as if he is scared to let go, "We'll get through this together, like all the rest"

#nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fluff #aftercare #jjk nanami #nanamin #nanami x reader #nanami x you

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purinjoong · 28 days

Text

take off your halo and wings (j.yh)

summary: yunho can't keep his hands off his angel, especially when he stumbles on one of your less than angelic desires.

jeong yunho x reader :: established relationship, smut, fluff, pervert!yunho, soft and slight mean dom yunho, fem bodied reader (gender not specified)

warnings below the cut!

praise, dacryphilia, marking, slight size kink, fingering, unprotected sex (!!!), dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, love, puppy)

notes: sadly not proofread im too impatient .. </3 approx 4.9k words!

Yunho swears he would never do anything you’re not ready for, and he doesn’t have any ulterior motives as he snuggles deeper into your embrace on the couch, the colors dancing on the TV flickering across your face. He likes this show, he really does— he was the one who asked to watch it with you— but with the way your head is nuzzled just under his chin and your body is pressed comfortably against his, he has front-row tickets to the tantalizing scent of your hair products and the dizzying warmth of your skin under his palms and against his thighs.

Every breath he takes thrusts him further into his thoughts, heart thumping against his chest so hard he’s afraid it’ll start jostling you with its movement if it beats any faster. He’s overwhelmed by the need to smooth his palms against the sweet curve of your hips, to kiss you until you’re gasping for air, your clenched fists cutely twisting at the fabric of his loose shirt as he drops his head to your neck, nipping at the soft skin.

He’s staring blankly ahead, lost in thoughts of you when you let out a cute squeak at something happening in the show. At the noise, his gaze flits down to where your bodies are tangled together, breath hitching as you shuffle around in his hold to get more comfortable. Your thighs are sandwiching one of his arms now, and he’s genuinely holding his breath trying not to whimper from how desperately he needs to have his mouth between your thighs instead, your fingers weaved into his hair as he licks and sucks at you.

You seem to have noticed something is off, since you tear your eyes away from the screen to fix him with an angelic look of concern, pretty eyes wide and sparkly as you ask him if he’s feeling alright. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but he responds with a mumbled noise of confusion because he genuinely can’t focus on anything other than the way your lips curve around every vowel you utter and how badly he needs your lips moving against his own.

Your arm (the one that isn’t wrapped around his back) comes up to brush some of his hair out of his face, and it’s just a soft, gentle touch, but he can’t stop the shuddered breath that escapes his chest. He’s so thankful the back of your hand covers the sinful way his eyes threaten to roll back into his head from the mere brush of your fingers against his forehead.

“You’re warm, baby,” you say worriedly, flipping the hand resting against his forehead so that your palm is pressed against it instead.

“‘M fine,” he replies, inwardly pumping his fist at how normal he sounds in spite of the desire thrumming through his veins. “Let’s keep watching,”

You give him a look, eyebrows cutely knitting together in disapproval, but you bring your hand away from his forehead and go back to resting your cheek against his chest to comfortably face the TV.

The measured rise and fall of your body as it lays against his lulls him further into his daze. He tries to tug his arm away from the back of the couch so he can stroke your hair, but his limbs move like he’s trying to swim through a pool of syrup.

It doesn’t help that he’s so acutely aware of how close his other arm is to your core— the bare skin of your thighs are so soft and warm where they’re sandwiched around his forearm, and if you shift any closer he’ll literally be pressed right against the seat of your cute pajama shorts, applying sweet pressure that he knows would have you struggling to stifle a moan.

He feels like a pervert, he is a pervert, with the way he cartoonishly gulps at the slightest movement of the neckline of the shirt you’re borrowing from him. With the way it’s driving him insane right now, he can’t decide whether he wants you wearing it forever or if he should put all his clothes into a suitcase and throw it out into the ocean before he short circuits from how much he loves you and how seeing you in his clothes stokes the flames of the possessive little fire blazing in his heart, burning bright for you. It makes him want to growl mine, into every part of your body he can get his hands on, pressing a soft kiss and a sharp bite anywhere you’ll let him until you’re a collage of marks proving his adoration for you.

Yunho’s fingers have been absentmindedly stroking your hair for a while now, and as his thoughts grow more possessive, his strokes have turned into delicious little tugs that feel just right, leading you to bite at your bottom lip and tense your thighs to prevent them from closing tighter around his arm. A particularly insistent tug at your hair from his long fingers draws a pathetic whine from your throat, a needy and wanton plea that causes both of you to freeze.

You shut your eyes tightly, bashful— you’re just cuddling, for fuck’s sake, but as you’re smoldering with embarrassment, Yunho is fighting the urge to flip you onto your back and kiss the shit out of you. To draw more pretty sounds out of his favorite person until you’re begging him to stop, it’s too much, you can’t take it, but you both know you can and you love that he’ll make you take it.

He opts for being more casual, so as not to scare you with the overwhelming wave of affection that washes over him from his forehead— where your hand was resting earlier— down to the tips of his toes, and tugs at your hair again. He manages to draw another sound out of you, a muffled little whimper (because you’ve doubled down on the force you’re biting your lip with), but it sends his heart reeling nonetheless.

“What’s this, baby?” he breathes against your ear, and you shudder at his close proximity.

“Nothing,” is your petulant response, and you both know it’s a lie with how your thighs shift around his arm.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Yunho says with a soft chuckle, the slight rasp to his voice shooting a bolt of arousal straight to your core. “It sounds like my angel has a dirty little secret to spill,”

You open your mouth to protest, but he chooses that moment to apply just the right amount of pressure with his nails against your scalp and pulls. With your lips now accessible, a debauched moan floats free from your chest, and it's Yunho’s turn to feel a jolt of arousal shock his body. He wants nothing more than to take you, play you like a delicate instrument that sings a sweet melody just for him, but he sets his feelings aside because he decides he wants to hear you beg first.

Everything about you is cute, and Yunho can go on for hours given the chance, but there’s something so delectable about seeing you soft and flustered in his arms, everything from your supple cheeks to your shy gaze just begging him to keep teasing you until you melt into his embrace like a marshmallow over an open flame.

You won’t meet his eyes, not after the tempting way you keened into the pull of his fingers, and it drives him crazy. You’re embarrassed, but you don’t even have a clue how worked up everything you do makes him. It’s delightful, and it’s infuriating, but more than anything, it conjures that perverted, possessive beast in him that belongs to you, just like the rest of him.

“Why are you so shy, baby?” he whispers. “Tell me how to make you feel good, and it’s yours,” Your gaze flickers to his bow-shaped lips, but it’s still shy, measured, like you’re afraid another whine will pierce the air if you let up on how harshly you’re biting your lip.

There’s something so lewd about the way he unabashedly growls dirty words into your ears when you fuck, with his soft cheeks, sparkly eyes, and cute lips. It’s worse when his fluffy hair is half-covering his eyes, because he looks so cozy as he’s pounding into you so perfectly you can’t even form a train of thought. At the same time, whenever his pretty fingers roughly push his hair away from his face so he can fix you with a dark, predatory look as he hits that spot inside of you, you unravel for him without fail.

There’s a method to the madness that is Yunho piecing you apart and molding you back together just to ruin you again. When you don’t respond, bashful gaze still trained on his lips, he coos. “All you have to do is tell me, baby, I’ll give it to you so good,” he coaxes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, but the way your voice trembles gives you away, and his lip curls up in triumph.

He hums in response, cocky smirk still quirking his lip as he toys with a lock of your hair. “No?” he asks. “So if I took off these flimsy shorts of yours, you wouldn’t be dripping through your panties?”

Suddenly, you’re aware of the way your thighs have been clenching around his forearm, and how you’re trapped between his sturdy chest and the plush cushions of the couch.

“Yunho,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” At your lack of a response, he coos, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of your lips but not quite on the plush flesh that’s practically tingling with the desire to be engulfed by Yunho’s.

“I need it,” you breathe. “Need you,” And as badly as he wants to ravage your body with kisses until you’re moaning his name into his mouth, he’s transfixed by the image of your eyes welling with desperate tears, lips swollen from how you bite at them when you try to restrain your sounds and pleas for him to just give himself to you and to stop teasing already. Weak as he is to his desires of your flesh, he settles for pressing a sweet kiss to your collarbone and revels in the way your eyes flutter shut.

“To do what, my love?” His voice is muffled by your skin as he litters it with more kisses.

“Stop teasing me, please,” you whine pitifully, and you would have the strength to be embarrassed if it wasn’t for Yunho’s responding deep chuckle. His long fingers brush against your core, applying insistent, sweet pressure for a moment where its soaked the flimsy fabric of your shorts. He brings the glistening digits up to his mouth, pausing to admire the way your arousal clings to his fingers as he separates them. “Yunho,” you whisper, pleading with him to do something, anything to soothe the ache between your thighs.

He sucks his fingers— coated in your desire— into his mouth, answering your desperate plea with a cocky smirk and a teasing hum around the fingers in his mouth. When your eyes well with tears, he takes pity on you, cooing and swiping at your cheeks with his clean hand. It’s his turn to be embarrassed from how hard your teary, pouting face makes him; he can’t bring himself to tease his angel any further when the only thing he can think about is having you cry on his cock. Yunho brings a thumb to your lips, parting them and kissing you so fervently it feels like he’s pulling the breath out of your lungs.

You’re so lost in his lips that the gentle yet firm brush of Yunho’s knuckles against the seat of your shorts sends a delicious jolt of arousal up your spine, a cute squeak slipping out of your mouth and into his. You feel the way his lips quirk in amusement, a silent pledge to draw as many lewd noises from you as he can before the night is over. The circles he rubs against your clothed clit are anything but soothing, forcing you to break away from Yunho’s intoxicating kisses to catch your breath, face pressed against his chest while your hips buck against his hand.

“More, please,” you beg, hand sliding under his shirt to run your fingers along his soft skin.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, but how can he deny his angel, especially when asked so sweetly? He finally makes direct contact with your drooling cunt, long fingers teasing your folds until one is eagerly sucked in by your walls.

“So good,” you babble into his shirt, and the laugh that rips from his chest is mean, but so, so sexy.

“Just like that, huh, baby?” he coos. When your answer is nothing but a pathetic whine of his name, he chuckles again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, sweetheart, I’ll give it to you just how you like it,”

“Need you to fuck me, Yunho,” you gasp, fists clenching uselessly around his shirt while he scissors his fingers in you. You know he’s trying to stretch you out, make it easier for you to take him, but you don’t care at this point. Every moment without his warmth filling you up and fucking you full is driving you crazy. The sharp glint of his smirk at your words has your walls clenching frantically around his fingers, drawing a guttural groan from Yunho’s throat that he throws his head back for.

You can’t even bite back the pitiful whine the sight pulls out of you— you want to bite his neck, to bury your face in him and drown in his ocean, never coming back up for air if it means you can be surrounded by him, engulfed by him. “Please Yun, I can’t take it,” you whimper, voice catching when his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you that draws a litany of sounds and broken cries of his name as he takes advantage of it.

“But you’re soaking my hand, love,” he teases, a cruel smirk taking over his features as your fingers scrabble to grab a hold of his wrist. His ministrations have your limbs tingling, grip weak as you try to halt his pleasing assault on your pussy. “So wet, just for me, hm?”

“Yours,” you nod frantically, nails lightly scratching at his forearm as you moan at the stimulation. “Put it in, Yunho, please?” you break, too far gone, too lost in the pleasure he pushes on you to care about the indecency and lewdness of your words, not when he’s staring you down like this. Not with his fingers mercilessly teasing your g-spot, sadistically cooing at the staccato whimpers that escape your mouth despite how hard you’re trying to stay quiet.

“I can’t hear you honey, what was that?” he chuckles, voice dropping a little deeper at the frustrated moan you let out at his tormenting.

“Yunho,” you huff, indignant, but it comes out as a breathy purr when he crooks his fingers against that spot just right. His sharp, cocky grin tells you it was no accident— he plays your body like an instrument, toying with you to draw out those pretty sounds you make just for him.

“You’re clinging onto my fingers so tightly, baby, I need a little motivation to get them out to put my cock in you,” he says, voice dripping with faux sadness as though he isn’t enjoying every second of your helplessness beneath him.

“You’re the wo-rst, Yunnie,” you scowl, face warming with embarrassment at the eroticism of your voice. Even you can’t take yourself seriously with the obscene moans punctuating your every word.

“Awww, you want Yunnie that bad, baby?” he mocks. “It’s too bad you won’t beg for it,”

Your trembling fingers curl tighter around his wrist to no avail, his assault on your g-spot so pleasurably mind-numbing that you stumble over your words as you try to beg for his cock, unintelligible cries of his name slipping past your lips. “Please, Yun, need you so badly, need you to fuck me so bad,” you finally manage, head thrown back to escape his piercing stare and perverse smile. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be so good, please just give it to me,”

“There’s my angel,” he groans. Your pleading eyes brimming with unshed tears makes him want to hold you against the plush cushions of the couch and draw orgasm after orgasm from you until those tears are spilling down your cheeks, pleasure-addled brain unable to focus on anything but whining his name and pawing at his shirt the way you so endearingly do when he fucks you dumb. But since you asked so sweetly, so good for him as always, Yunho pulls his fingers out (with a firm rub against your g-spot and your pliant walls on the way out for good measure) and presses a reverent kiss to your clit before shucking down pants.

You’re practically salivating, hands wringing the hem of his shirt in anticipation after so cruelly being denied his cock for so long. ”So eager, love,” Yunho chuckles, the weight of dick resting deliciously against your pussy.

“It’s not my fault you’re such a tease,” you snark. “You could have been inside me ages ago, you sadist,”

“Yeah?” is his only response, but his tone is so dangerous— airy, but threatening, with some hidden promise beneath it that you’re morbidly curious to discover.

“Yeah,” you answer, but it comes out softly and timidly at the shift in his demeanor. The smirk on his face that disappeared at your brattiness returns, a more sinful glint in his eye as he takes in just how pliant you are for him.

“So cute, puppy,” he grins. “Fuck around and find out, huh?” And find out you do as he slides in, the glide laughably easy from how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing.

“Yunho,” you whimper, a silent plea in your wide eyes to go faster, to stop tormenting you and to just give you all of him until there’s nothing left.

“You’re soaking, angel,” he observes, blatantly ignoring your unspoken request. Instead, his thumbs find your folds, gently spreading them apart to expose your throbbing clit. You’re almost embarrassed at how closely he’s inspecting you, but you’re too overwhelmed by the hunger in his eyes as he bites his lip at your arousal. He brings a thumb against your clit, applying delicious pressure that has your body jerking against his, sheathing his cock snugly within your walls. He laughs at the cute yelp you make when his pelvis finally connects with yours, pressing a little harder against your clit to hear you squeal and watch you shut your eyes tightly to escape the pleasure.

He devours you in every sense— drinking in the sight of your trembling form trapped beneath him, savoring the erotic mewls and desperate moans you make for him as he feasts on the feeling of your hot skin beneath his fingers and trapping his cock. He has to fight the urge to gather you up in his arms and press you against him, chest to chest, face preferably buried in your neck or hair or lips smothering yours so he can be close to you in every sense of the word, but you look too lovely splayed against the couch cushions for him to manhandle you any further.

“Feel good?” he asks softly, bringing his free hand up to your face to fondly brush away the hair obstructing his view of his angel. He’s checking in on you, making sure he isn’t being too rough, making sure you can still feel all the love behind his teasing.

“So good, Yuyu,” you pant. “Please move, please fuck me,” As always, your wish is his command, so he complies, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in. Your moan is so obscene its practically pornographic, and coupled with the tight warmth of your walls sucking him in, Yunho has to throw his head back with a guttural groan to keep himself sane. You’re so fucking cute, calling him Yuyu with his cock buried within you, your pretty, teary eyes blinking up at him so sincerely as you ask him to fuck you.

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t give his angel the world on a silver platter, so if it’s a good fuck you want it’s a good fuck you’ll get. With every thrust, you let out a breathy moan or a lascivious “please.” If he angles himself just right, you punch out a sweet keen of that nickname that he would find gut-wrenchingly cute under any other circumstances— but with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, brows drawn up and arms splayed limply above your head as you’re left helpless to the pleasure he fucks into you, Yunho would have to be some kind of deity not to lose his mind. For how pliant and weak he makes you, you return it twofold, leaving him powerless before your charm.

You bring an arm down to your stomach, hand finding one of his to intertwine your fingers as he fucks you deep and calculated, thrusts perfectly orchestrated to have you falling apart on his cock. “Feels so good, Yuyu, I love you so much,” you whimper as your fingers slot into the gaps between his, and Yunho has to grip your hip with all the strength he has to stop himself from filling you up with his cum then and there.

“I love you too, angel,” he praises, fighting to keep his voice level. “Always so fucking good for me,”

Your moans begin to rise in pitch, broken little gasps and desperate whimpers of “Yuyu, just like that, please don’t stop,” that come to a peak as your back arches into a pretty crescent, hips bucking madly against his as you fall apart on his cock, cumming with a satisfied sob of his name.

Yunho has many hobbies, some more productive than others, but his absolute favorite is watching you cum, treasuring the pretty expressions you make only for him and the debauched sounds he can pull out of you. It was good, he can tell from the way you’re panting and blinking slowly like you’re still coming down, but he doesn’t let up because you aren’t crying yet and he promised he would have you falling apart on him so good that you wouldn’t be able to think of anything else.

You’re so cute, eyes widening in surprise as he fucks you through your orgasm. Yunho isn’t sure if he wants to show the whole world how his angel is the loveliest there could ever be, or if he wants to keep you all to himself, so sweet, all fucked out and pliant for him.

That possessive beast you conjured in him always seems to win, though, and he shifts so he’s looming over you even more dangerously now, broad shoulders filling your view with nothing but Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You’d never have it any other way though, mewling at the overstimulation, squirming beneath him and tugging uselessly at his shirt as he fucks you relentlessly.

“Can you t-take this off, at least?” you whimper, and he heeds your request with a breathy chuckle, his pace inside you never faltering as he tears his hands away from your hips to pull his shirt off. He feels your walls flutter desperately around his cock at his exposed torso, pulling a more throaty laugh from his chest.

“What a pervert,” he teases, licking his unfairly pretty bow-shaped lips as his palms find your hips once more.

“Y-You’re such a hypocrite,” you punch out between soft little whines, an indignant squeak preceding your words.

“Mmm, never said I wasn’t a pervert, my love,” Yunho grins, pinching your hip and grinning wider at the way you squirm. “I’m a proud pervert when it comes to you, but you’re just as bad, aren’t you, angel?”

You want to retort, cheeks warm with humiliation, but you can’t form the words or the thought when Yunho’s penetrating you so perfectly. You’re only able to manage a feeble moan, which draws another mean-spirited laugh from Yunho and the rewarding pressure of his thumb against your clit once more. He finally stops teasing you with his words only for his mouth to latch onto one of your nipples, the hand that’s not busy at your clit making its way up to your other nipple to toy with it until you’re jerking against his body, helpless to his desires as his chest secures you against the cushions.

Yunho has the gall to laugh against your skin when he bites the pillowy flesh around your nipple, resulting in a cute yelp from you that has him hardening impossibly further within you. The assault on all your sweet spots has you clenching uselessly around him, walls hugging him so tight he can’t tell if you’re trying to push him out or suck him in deeper, if that was even possible. Your thighs are twitching uncontrollably around his hips, fingers scrabbling against his back, seeking purchase in the soft skin and hard muscles contracting under your fingertips from how powerfully he’s thrusting into you.

You’re almost there, he can tell from the litany of pitiful whines and maddeningly sexy pleas of his name spilling from your lips, but he needs to give you just a little more to have you coming undone for him the way he wants, to give you pleasure so good it leaves you floating for the rest of the evening; so he painstakingly pulls his hand away from your (now swollen from his attention) nipple to press his palm flat against your stomach, applying just the right amount of force to have you gasping and digging your nails into his skin. It hurts so good, his eyes roll back into his head, but he has to keep himself under control at least until he draws that orgasm from you that he knows you’re craving.

Your eyes find his, and those unshed tears that have been driving him crazy finally fall past your lashes, spilling down your cheeks as you moan his name. You’re so perfect, in every sense of the word, squirting all over his cock as he fills you up. “That’s it, my love,” he praises you, voice deep and strained as he cums for you, “So good for me,”

“I love you, Yuyu,” you mumble as he pulls out, slowly and cautiously because he knows you’re probably sensitive from all his teasing from earlier. The painstakingly slow drag of his cock against your walls has you twitching against his hips, though— you can feel every ridge and every vein this way and you’re starting to think that Yunho probably had a point when he called you a pervert earlier. If you are a pervert, it’s only for him.

“I love you too, angel,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your thighs twitch as he soothingly cleans them with a warm, damp towel, carefully brushing your hair away from your face and rubbing comforting circles into your hip with his free hand. “It was okay, baby?” he asks, movements faltering slightly as he looks up at you from between your thighs with those sparkling puppy-like eyes that got you into this predicament in the first place.

“It was perfect, Yun,” you say sincerely. “You felt so good that I couldn’t really… control myself,” you mumble, trailing off out of embarrassment. You have to avert your eyes for your own sanity when that puppy face splits into a teasing grin, his canines back on display.

“Hmm, I can tell,” he chuckles, leaning up towards your face to warmly kiss away the few tears still adorning your cheeks.

“Yunho,” you whine, indignant. “You asked me just to tease,”

“Nooooo, baby,” he laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute when you get like this,”

You can’t really retort, not when he’s giggling like that, what with his pretty smile and soft cheeks.

“If my angel has any other dirty little secrets to share, I think we could have a lot of fun with it, don’t you?” he lilts, taunting you by sliding his long fingers through your hair to rest firmly at your scalp. Not tugging, not yet, but the possibility lingers, kicking up your heartbeat again.

“You’re the one hiding all these kinky secrets,” you counter, pouting. “I know you took that pair of lacy panties I asked you about the other week, you pervert, so who’s the real false angel?”

Yunho just laughs, again, a throaty chuckle rumbling in his chest that would have your thighs clenching to alleviate the jolt of arousal shocking your core if he wasn’t settled between your legs. “You have a point, love,” he acquiesces, and shoots you a wink that already has you needy for him to draw yet another orgasm from you. You’ll save this information for next time, though— you have a lifetime to explore Yunho and a lifetime to fall deeper in love with every new inch he reveals.

#yunho smut #ateez smut

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Note

He's wondering when you're gonna stop doing your boring work and do him instead

Of course, he is. 😏

Clocking Out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky makes it difficult for you to get any work done.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smutty times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: Late submission for Week 7 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents ! Prompt - "Who's this?". ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. But thanks to @rookthorne for the inspiration. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You narrowed your eyes in concentration on your laptop screen, the clicking of your keyboard the only sound in your in-home office. You typically worked with some kind of background noise, whether it be music or even the television at a low volume. It helped the day go by faster. At some point though, Bucky ventured in and shut your playlist off to ask some random question.

"Who's this?" he asked as he shoved his phone in your face and blocked your view of the monitor. "And what is FYP? What the hell does that mean?"

You had to giggle after a moment. Your boyfriend had a habit of interrupting you while you worked to get some form of attention. It happened more times than you could count and you were lucky you got any work done at all when he was home. He told you in passing that after being alone for so long that he wanted to soak up every moment he could with you.

I can't get mad when he puts it that way.

"It means 'For You Page' and I have no clue who that is," you answered, gently pushing his hand away so you could get back to typing. "Why are you on TikTok, old man?"

"Why are you?" he asked, taking a seat on the loveseat near your desk. "Is this what you look at to get inspiration for your smut or whatever it is that you call it?"

"Hey!" you said, pushing away from your desk to turn and face him. "I write stories, thank you very much. Some of them just happen to include smut and there is nothing wrong with that."

Bucky had an all too smug expression on his face when he leaned back against the cushion and widened his massive thighs. He took up almost the entire two-seater sofa with his size. The gorgeous bastard finished up his workout earlier and didn't bother getting fully dressed after his shower. Just a new pair of sweatpants and no shirt, his long hair still slightly damp and daring you to run his fingers through it.

Showing off his broad torso like a harlot.

"Sorry. You're right. You do tell stories and they are wonderful," he said, holding up his hands on surrender. His steel blue eyes had a hint of playfulness as he nodded to your laptop. "You almost done with your 'porn with plot' or should I come back later?"

You rolled your eyes as you spun away from him and pulled yourself back to your desk. "You're impossible. Turn my music back on and go back to watching TikTok videos."

"Or you could take a break and ride me," he suggested so casually your fingers froze on the keyboard. "Give you the motivation you need to finish."

With a defiant lift of your chin, you went back to typing. You did like his idea and it wouldn't be the first time you stopped writing to have Bucky pull an orgasm or two from you. The only reason you got a bigger desk was so he could fit under it. The image of him nearly getting stuck under your old desk brought a smile to your face.

It also caused a tingling sensation between your legs when you remembered just how deep he stabbed his tongue into your aching pussy.

"You can't ignore me, doll. Look at you. Already distracted and shifting in your chair," he said, his voice low. He knew exactly how it affected you. "So get over here."

Nope. His thick cock can wait for me to take a ride.

"Bet you're not even working," he accused. It wasn't true. There were words on the screen. "You're typing just to look busy when we both know you're getting your seat wet through your clothes."

"Don't you have work to do yourself?" you asked incredulously, refusing to look over at him. If you did, you'd go right to him and he'd win. Both of you would win, but that wasn't the point. He cut into your work time when you couldn't cut into his.

It's not like I can show up in the middle of a mission and demand to suck his cock.

"If by 'work' you mean your delicious cunt, yeah. I have a lot of work to do," he said. The unsubtle man he was, you knew he was about two seconds away from taking himself out and stroking his perfect cock. Anyone who said perfection didn't exist hadn't slept with Bucky Barnes. "I'll do overtime and you can pay me in orgasms."

Your head fell back against your chair with a groan. "Where is your off switch?"

"No off switch around you, doll. Only an on switch. You're lucky I don't knock stuff off the end tables since I'm practically a walking hard-on around you."

The sincerity in his statement had you beaming and laughing all at once. You wondered if something in the serum sent his libido into overdrive or if it was you who brought that side of him out. It did wonders for your self-esteem because no matter how you looked, he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to grace this planet.

A small break wouldn't hurt.

"If I step away for a few minutes," you began as you stared at the ceiling. "You have to transcribe the next few paragraphs for me so I can lay down and recover."

"Deal," he said, leaning over and gripping the chair handle to turn you toward him. "But I'm warning you. If you dirty talk, I'm gonna get hard all over again and we'll be right back where we started."

"It can't be any worse than the time you had me in your lap," you said as you lifted your head. He couldn't stop himself from running his hands along your body or kissing your neck. And that was before he had you warm his cock. "Don't look so smug. You owe me an orgasm."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

Lucky for you, Bucky always delivered on his promises.

We can't resist Bucky, can we? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #biteofcherry #hotbuckysummer2023

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strawberrynull · 2 months

Text

──౨ৎ ˙🔥 ̟ burn it down

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: riki x afab!reader

──Genre: fluff

──Synopsis: After a busy week, Riki decides its time for the two of you to hang out and have fun rather than working

──Warnings: cursing, starting fires, mentions of burning (things, not people), kissing, established relationship

──A/N: I've actually thought of this so many times and finally got the motivation to write it lol

masterlist

The car came to a stop, parking in front of an abandoned building. It was an old warehouse but was now used for people to just drop off their junk. It almost looked like a horror movie scene.

"Ki, where the fuck are we?" You asked, gripping onto your seat belt strap. You turned to look at Riki, hoping he was joking about going there.

"Get out. I'll show you." You looked at him like he was fucking insane. Then he grabbed your hand gently and laughed. "Just trust me." His sweet smile was enough to make you give in.

The two of you hadn't been hanging out very often as of recently. Riki had practice almost every day and you were always busy with work and studying. So it had taken you by surprise when Riki snatched the notebook from your desk, claiming that he was taking you somewhere fun today.

You stepped out of the car, following your boyfriend as he approached the building. With a good bit of force, Riki manages to open up the big rusted doors to the abandoned warehouse. He disappears into the darkness of the building. All you can see are the silhouettes of large piles of trashed furniture. Riki returns, hauling a ton of junk like old car parts and barrels. He continues to disappear into the piles of garbage and reappear carrying trash and throwing it into one big pile. Once he's brought out enough shit, he tosses you a lighter. You roll the small black lighter in between your fingers before looking up at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression.

"Go on. Burn it down." He says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

"What? You really want me to burn this stuff? Out in the open?" You question, eyes wide with shock. He nods. "Isn't that considered arson?" Riki chuckles at your concern. Your heart does flips in your chest hearing his deep laugh.

"Trust me. It's fun." He reassures you, pulling his hands out of his pockets and reaching for your hair. He ties it back gently, pulling any loose strands into the messy ponytail.

You flick the lighter open and hold the flame to a stick you found on the ground. Once it's lit, you toss it into the pile of trash. Riki finds himself a broken off car chair and sits on it, leaning back to watch you. You observe the beautiful flames as they dance around. While the flames rose, occupying your attention, Riki could only focus his gaze on you. His heart pounded as he watched you happily play around, lighting different items on fire.

"Woah, holy shit. That's a lot of fire, Ki."

"I'll put it out before we leave. Just go have fun." He waves his hand, telling you not to worry about it.

You skipped around the lot, deciding to add more trash to what you now called the "arson pile," making the flame grow stronger. You gaped in awe as the fire crackled and rose higher, sending smoke into the air.

You found yourself a wooden bat lying around the junkyard so naturally you took the handle and gave it a test swing. Once satisfied, you walked over to some old appliances and began beating the shit out of them. Then a loud crack was heard, making Riki shoot out of his chair. He craned his neck to find you standing with a broken bat and wide eyes. You had snapped the poor bat in half.

With a huff of defeat, you trudged back to your boyfriend who just laughed at you. He manspread so you could sit comfortably between his legs on the old leather chair. Riki wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you so your back was flush against his chest. He dipped his head down to the crook of your neck. The boy placed a few light kisses on your shoulder making you giggle.

"Sorry, you're just so pretty. I can't hide my love for you anymore." He says, half jokingly. He was being silly of course but he wasn't joking whenever he called you pretty. You were practically the light of his life.

You quickly turned around to hit his chest. "Ah you're so corny and annoying." You complained with a pout.

"Just admit that you're madly in love with me."

You glared at him with squinted eyes and a scrunched nose.

"Nope. You're the one who's obsessed with me." You sighed, turning back around and crossing your arms.

Riki just rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're right. You're a bad bitch. I can't help being in love with you."

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chosows · 9 days

Text

FIRE ON ICE 🏒

Ice hockey Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Hockey—a sport that had taken over his life, and yours. Every day of the past month has been dedicated to his performance for the upcoming game; this game determines their position in the tournament as the rightful victors.

Sukuna takes great pride in his preparations, often neglecting you in the process to ensure his focus is entirely on the game. Whatever the fate may be, he is aware of his absence in the relationship. He swears that given this victory tonight, he will share you a fix of his undivided attention.

Word count: 5.5k

Contains: Smut, established relationship, teasing, public displays of affection (brief), top!Sukuna, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, penetration, brief aftercare

Note: i keep getting hockey edits plastered over my social media feeds and it’s taking over my life, so now it can take over yours too. this is also my first post on tumblr + first oneshot (not my first time writing—i typically prefer my long fics); this may be a little rough

Saturday, September 14th, 11:00 AM

With a few hours remaining before the match begins, you attempt to settle down in the hotel room they had provided as his accommodation. It was ridiculously fancy, decked out beyond belief; the closet has its own room, something even your apartment lacks. The view was exceptional; you could see the arena from the floor-to-ceiling length windows. The building that would decide the fate of his career could change both of your lives if his team succeeds. Though Sukuna would never admit to his emotions, you could sense the tension and dread growing inside him each passing day. His anger becomes out of control when he is overwhelmed; he struggles to process his thoughts and allows them to overflow, spurting whatever hurtful words they harbour at you. You know he doesn’t mean it, he could never harm you; you’re his good luck charm—his motivation. When tensions are heightened, you figure it’s best to stay out of his way; he regulates alone, any other input will add kinder to his raging flames. Fans have been highly active in the media, small video and picture edits of the team are blowing up—especially the ones of your boyfriend. Herds of women flock to these hockey matches despite admitting they only attend to see the player they deem most attractive. Many of the older men had found your social media accounts through Sukuna and would send you direct messages, expecting you to have the latest scoop on the team. In reality, you pay little to no attention to the logic behind the sport; all you do is support Sukuna with no other thought in your mind. He has attempted to explain the process but it doesn’t register in your brain; a brick wall would take better understanding than you do. Buzzing sounds and your phone vibrates on top of the wooden bedside table, casting your attention to the lit-up phone screen. A Facetime call is coming through, so you quickly do your best to shape up your appearance before answering.

“Hey,” The camera shows Sukuna alone in the locker room, his jersey resting beside him on the bench as he rests his head against the cool metal, “Only three hours left, you excited to see me out there?”

“You know I am; you should see what it’s like on social media. They’re all talking about the game, there’s been a few thousand posts under the team name in an hour.”

“Good, we’re going to give them something to talk about.”

“I can’t wait for this to be over, I feel like I haven’t spent time with you properly in months.”

“I know. It’s been tough, you’ve gotten through it quite well though.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to steal you straight after the game?”

“Don’t know, they might have us do some interviews. I’ll try my best to make it quick.”

“How come you’re not dressed?”

“Started sweating so I took everything off, it’s been a mess over here.” He pats his hand against his abs, then tilts his head slightly to the side to reposition himself more comfortably.

“You’re stressing yourself out again, Sukuna.”

“You think?”

“Give yourself a breather, don’t let it weigh too heavily on your mind. You don’t want to let your emotions mess with you mid-game.”

“That’s easy for you to say, it’s far harder than it looks.”

“I believe in you,” You smile at him through the screen, and his eyes drift to your mouth, “I’ll be there yelling your name, cheering you on louder than everyone else.”

“That’s all I need. I’ll see you soon, baby.”

“I love you, go win us that game.” He takes a final moment to glance at you, the grin on his face visible before he ends the call.

With little time left to spare, you take action and begin dressing accordingly. Since it can get cold being so close to the ice, you’re advised to layer up. You select one of your sweatshirts and a pair of pants that will ideally match the outfit you crafted inside of your mind, praying that it will look better when it’s on your body than it does laid out in front of you. Pairing the sweatshirt with one of Sukuna’s jerseys adds to a cosy yet stylish outfit; you have to look your best since there are chances that the cameras, at some stage, will be on you. It doesn’t have to be formal, but it must be presentable—that’s what Sukuna always tells you. If you wouldn’t wear it for a job interview then you shouldn’t wear it in front of the camera, so you take those words into careful consideration while dolling yourself up. You do your usual makeup routine and style your hair in your preferred way, aiming to keep the casual look to not overdo yourself. To finalise your appearance, you slip on a bobble hat and scarf which matches the colour of the team; your pace increases as you catch the time, sliding into your shoes by the door.

Travel has already been arranged for you; there’s a car waiting outside to take you to the stadium to avoid the hassle of fans. Since you are the girlfriend of a team member, they allow you to enter earlier. Driving through the city spotting civilians wearing the rugby jerseys and merchandise sends sparks of exhilaration through your soul; it’s a thrilling experience and you are more than grateful to be in the position you’re in. Many women would kill to be you; Sukuna is just as dreamy as they make him out to be, but they will never gain the true experience of being his lover. His appearance is what gets them hooked; he’s brooding, standing at around 6’7” tall. Fierce eyes, proportional features, and cocky mannerisms make him the man he is. You can’t blame them for drooling over him, he’s everything any woman could ever want. His career isn’t what you chased him for; you initially had no idea who he was when you first met him at that party. The car comes to a halt and you step out, cluelessly approaching the stadium until you wait for someone to guide you. Sukuna’s personal jersey makes you stand out, fans would never be able to attain one like this; he had signed your name under his, a true limited edition. Two of the event managers spot you and escort you through the back, now passing through the hallways where all the players are situated before the game starts. You attempt to peek around corners in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sukuna before the game, but your luck runs dry.

Front row, in a seat beside the wife of the coach; you are more than familiar with Kenjaku, considering yourselves as friends due to the interactions you share outside of the sports world. Her seat was empty but his jacket was draped over the chair, signalling his return shortly. A few other women were here, though you aren’t acquainted with them; a majority of the men on the team switch their girlfriends far quicker than you can keep up with. Sukuna is teased for his long-term relationship, especially for the fact that he still hasn’t proposed to you. Their words are a nuisance to him, nothing but fodder; when the time is right, he will make his move. Peer pressure could not affect someone who has always stood out amongst the crowd. You settle down and shove your hands into your pockets, eagerly waiting for the fans to begin piling in. The sound elevates when the main doors open, and then the hordes of people flock to their designated areas. Life is what makes the atmosphere of these games so mesmerising, you wonder if Sukuna still feels that awe while on the ice. Kenjaku slips past and takes his wife’s seat momentarily, handing you a pair of gloves Sukuna advised him to give to you.

“Good afternoon, hockey fans!” The commentator blasts out on the speakers, diminishing the build-up of chatter into silence. Kenjaku pleads with you to keep a keen eye on his wife’s personal belongings while he dips back to the player bench, awaiting the arrival of his team.

“Welcome to the final game of the tournament; a great day to show up and support your favourite team!”

On the giant screen, the camera pans to the players exiting backstage. There he was, taking steps onto the ice and gliding as though he were still on land. Sukuna was breathtaking, your eyes are trained on him as though he were a deer you are hunting in the wild. The commentator continued to ramble on with the general procedure of announcing the lineups of both respective teams and introducing the coaches to the fans. You stand up from your seat like the others around you and clap, joining in with the chant before the game officially begins. Sukuna spots you in the crowd, shaking his head at how clueless you appear; he tries his best to suppress the chuckle attempting to burst out—he can’t shame you for trying. He settles down, now shifting his mindset to the main goal—securing this game as a victory. This team may cause a problem, but he’s confident enough that this win is in their hands.

“Good luck to both teams, may the game commence!” The voice fades out and then both teams launch towards the puck, battling for ownership.

It’s hard to make out what’s happening as all you can see is the mass amounts of various players whizzing past your eyes. Sukuna is determined to take the lead, so he does. He manoeuvres his way, breaking the opposing team’s line of defence and sending the puck directly to another one of his teammates, only to have it stolen back almost instantly. This battle has been ongoing for the past ten minutes, and Sukuna’s fury is beginning to bubble up. His team are unable to maintain security and control of the puck, rendering his efforts useless. You glance over at Kenjaku near the team bench and notice him holding his head in his hands; his team is falling apart in front of his eyes, and there is little hope for them to obtain a goal anytime soon.

Crashing, cursing, and tumbling are all that have happened so far. Sukuna’s performance is becoming more aggressive, nudging players out of the way as though they were ragdolls and sending them crashing into the barrier. Kenjaku’s screams register over the rowdy crowd, urging him to stop before the referee targets him for fault. Frenzied turmoil had possessed him as he turned a deaf ear, now taking the game into his own hands. He secured the puck and denied making the same mistake he did before; he kept the puck close and eased his way through the obstacles, acting as crowd control amongst all the other players. They were struggling to catch up to him as he approached the opposing goal, their goalkeeper springing to action as he saw Sukuna heading his way—rapidly. That sight alone is enough to make anyone begin to falter, and before he knew it, Sukuna had made his shot, sending the puck straight into the goal through the space left unprotected. The crowd roars as the commentator announces Sukuna’s name and number as the unassisted goal scorer. He sticks his tongue out as the camera captures his face, skating backwards to return to his original position.

Shortly after, the opposing team had matched the scores just before the first intermission commenced. While other members of his team were escorted off, he swiftly made his way over to you, banging his hands against the barrier to grab your attention. You run over to him from your seat, catching a glimpse of Kenjaku scolding him in the background. Sukuna points at you and you cock your head aside, confused as to what he could be wanting to say. You point at yourself and he nods, then he changes the positioning of his finger to himself. You copy his motions and he bobs his head with approval, a knowing smirk painting its way onto his face. He bites his lip and spins in place, rolling his eyes back to make a dirty innuendo. The people behind you were puzzled at the interaction taking place in front of them and you motioned for him to cut it out, hearing his laughter descend as he made his way to catch back up with the members of the team. Before he disappears to the locker room, he points at the area where his heart resides and then back at you, leaving you with a stupidly big smile presented as your current expression. Sukuna deserves this win more than anybody else on their team does.

Behind the scenes, Kenjaku devised a new approach. Since Sukuna is the fastest and most offensive on the ice, he’s their best shot at scoring, meaning the opposing team will have their members on high defence around him. With the idea shared of deceiving them with who their main shooter could be, the other team will not know exactly who to target or when. Sukuna is going to remain off the radar until he’s required to strike, a simple approach that fools typically fall for. While the discussion dies down, they are shortly announced to arrive back on the ice to continue the game with an equal score of 1:1 for both teams.

A new energy radiates and overtakes the rink, Sukuna’s body language is shifting and his eyes darkening. As soon as they began, someone had already shoved into him. In turn, Sukuna manages to subtly take him to the floor, avoiding a penalty since he cannot be pinned for the fault. Several of the opposing team are hounding him, hardly allowing him any free movement even when he isn’t in possession of the puck. It’s incredibly hard to play a game when you are boxed in, especially in a sport where movement plays a key factor in success. In a sudden outburst, Sukuna shifts his position and sends two people into the barrier. The referee intervenes and pulls them to the side, a possible penalty on Sukuna’s behalf. The chants increase in volume as the game picks up pace, yet you can hear the sound of Sukuna’s voice overpowering the chaos unfolding around him. He was furious, battling the violent thoughts plaguing his mind. If he wasn’t so strong-willed, he would’ve lost control of his hands and swung the hockey stick against the skulls of the pests who have been harassing him. Upon final decision, he was sent to the penalty box and was unable to participate in the last two minutes of the period.

No goals were scored as the game shifted to the second intermission; there were zero rational thoughts left inside Sukuna’s mind, he was a walking hazard. While he was exiting the rink, he swung his stick against the metal pole and snapped it in two, tossing the remains aside as he stormed past the rest of the team. Kenjaku informed the group that he would temporarily bench Sukuna since it would give him time to recollect and focus his attention back on the game—and he had no other option but to agree with this decision. Sweat was rolling down his face and the veins on his hands were threatening to burst; riling himself up like this is never a position he wishes to put himself in, especially in important scenarios such as this. When intermission finished, Sukuna had switched out with a member of the bench and sat there bouncing his leg, a new hockey stick by his side. You scoot to the end of the row and shout over to him, catching his attention by pure miracle. Though in a terrible state of mind, the sight of you had twisted his lips up into a subtle smile. He raises his hand to wave until he’s suddenly switched out, now making his way back to the ice. There was an opening and he didn’t hesitate to take it, he checked the puck away from the imbecile navigating it and was making his way swiftly to the goal. Rather than taking the shot, he passed the puck to Kashimo; their secret weapon. While they rushed to Sukuna, Kashimo had taken the opportunity to score the goal, adding a point to the team on the leaderboard. Sukuna grins widely as the other team realises they had been outsmarted, relishing in their failure.

Kenjaku stands up from his seat and claps his hands while the camera zooms in on him and splits screens between Kashimo and Sukuna. The final intermission had arrived with a score of 2:1; the last round would determine the winner, and at this rate, this would leave their team victorious. While they’re in the locker room, you send Sukuna a text. He won’t be able to read it until the game is finished, but you feel it’s only fair to let him know how proud of him you are. Watching him out there while understanding how hard he works is rewarding, especially when it goes in his favour—he puts his soul into this sport; no one could work harder than him. Sukuna is a legend in the making, a fire that will only burn brighter. You’ll be there throwing gasoline into the flames, making sure he doesn’t die out.

5:20 PM

2:1, the final score was announced and the stadium celebrated the victory of Sukuna’s team. It warmed your heart to see the wide variety of individuals supporting him; from children to elders, Sukuna was able to please all of his fans on this special day. Most importantly, he had pleased you. You watched as they placed a medal around his neck and cheered his name, holding your hands together in the shape of a heart. When the award ceremony had concluded, many fans were flocking out of the stadium, preparing to camp outside and say their farewells to the players. When the arena had cleared out, most players went straight through to the back. Sukuna strides over to you, dropping his helmet while you wrap your arms around him. He had lifted you off of your feet and squeezed you, almost crushing you with the sheer dumb strength he harbours. You gaze up at him and pout, an unspoken demand for a kiss. Who would he be to deny you? He pressed your back against the glass barrier and held you there until the sound of a voice behind caused him to break away, placing a final peck on your cheek before he turned to the source.

“You’re in public, you know?” Kenjaku points at his tongue, mimicking a gag as he picks his jacket up. “You need to behave, you had me on the ropes that entire game. Are you serious, Sukuna? I can’t keep—”

“We won, didn’t we?” Sukuna takes your hand into his, though there was no skin-to-skin contact you could still feel the heat he radiates.

“Don’t be arrogant, and don’t make a total fool out of yourself in the interview. I’ll be in the room, I’ll make sure I’m sitting right beside you to keep you in place.”

“I can’t believe you’re the same man who gets shitface drunk every weekend; I’ve babysat your kids and you still hound me.”

“I’m a man of many wonders—endless possibilities. Come on, this interview is about to start,” Kenjaku turns away to head through the back, then addresses you in his final words, “You can come too, they have seats behind the cameras.”

Sukuna waits until Kenjaku is out of sight before he pulls out the puck used for the match. He closes your hands over it and links your arm with his, dragging you towards the room where the interview will take place. Walking through the hallways filled with pictures of local legends is bone-chilling; perhaps Sukuna will be on one of these walls someday. When you reach the interview room, you take your seat and beam at him, proud to see him amongst his members with medals hanging from their necks.

8:30 PM

Left on the back wheel of the team, you had become burned out from their excessive amount of celebratory activities. Interviews, photographs, autograph signing, and the list goes on. You were forgotten about, struggling to remain patient for much longer; all you want to do is go back to the hotel room and sleep. Sukuna steps out of the locker in his casual attire, pushing you out the exit doors with him to the cab he booked. It was silent on the way home—in your case. You had dozed off while he muttered about the game, unintentionally exhausted from so much hockey. You don’t intend to be disrespectful, but when it’s the only thing you hear constantly for a month, your brain begins shutting down at the trigger word—hockey. You’re surprised you are able to escape it in your dreams; it’s a mosquito you cannot kill, nipping at you and draining your energy.

Thump. Your eyes flutter open as the mattress sways. Sukuna had carried you to the room and had fully prepared himself for the evening. His hair is still damp and his skin is clammy, your hand had intertwined with his the second you recognised his presence. It had been a long day for both of you—more so him, you were just the spectator. You scoot closer to him and place your chin on his shoulder, coming into contact with his eyes that possess a devilish glint.

“You tired? It must be so much work cheering me on.” His nail scratches under your chin, causing you to scrunch up from the sensation.

“It is, it’s a lot of work. Unpaid too.”

“How should I pay you?” It was a rhetorical question—he already had his answer, he just wanted to hear it from you.

“Some attention would be nice, we haven’t cuddled properly since last month. You always come home late and—” Before you can finish your complaint, he lifts you and places you on top of his chest. His hands rest on the small of your back, sliding under your sweatshirt.

“Poor you,” He coos, his fingers tracing lines down your skin the lower his hands venture, “You must feel so neglected.”

“I forgot what your touch feels like.” You mumble into his bare skin, the vibration of his raspy laugh causing you to stiffen up.

“Has it been that long? Or are you just that desperate?” His thumb toys with your lips, your breath fanning his hands while he waits for you to reply, “What one of the two is it?”

“Both. It’s been three weeks since we had sex, I started to believe you fell out of love with me. You wouldn’t even kiss me properly.”

“I couldn’t afford any distractions, you know that.”

“But it’s not fair, Sukuna. You can’t just kick me off to the side, I won’t distract you—I promise. It’s been horrible for me, I hate it when you have to play these big games.”

“Didn’t know it was that bad for you, I never meant to make you feel like shit. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Sukuna pushes you off of him and looms over you, unbuttoning your pants, “I’ll make it all better, you shouldn’t have negative thoughts in that pretty little head.”

“Should be me, I’d take it all from you if I could. You’ve been there for me through it all, my most loyal supporter. My number one girl.” He tugs your pants down, revealing your panties and the wet patch that had formed in them.

“You’re—”

“Turning you on? I can see that.” He pokes his finger on the patch and your legs clamp shut, tramping him in between them.

“—Making me flustered! Slow down—” You’re cut off when his lips graze your inner thigh, planting pecks down the strips of exposed flesh.

His teeth attach to the thin fabric and slide your panties down slowly, the heat from his breath interacting with your cold skin causing goosebumps to rise. When he drags them past your knees, he slings them off to the side and spreads your legs, keeping your most vulnerable region in view for his prying eyes. You’re there in his jersey, eyes unable to meet him and hands gripping the sheets—he had almost forgotten how pleasant this view could be. He lowers his head and his hair brushes against you, smearing some of the moisture it withheld from his shower. Rather than diving straight in, his index finger slips between your folds and coaxes your clit with slick. You were far too easy—getting this soaked when he had hardly even touched you. You must’ve been fantasising about this moment all day. While he could give you what you want, he decides to drag it out further, testing your limits. Your patience has already broken and the weak pressure he is applying to your clit isn’t enough to stimulate you, it’s just enough to make you aware of his presence.

“Are you grinding against my fingers? You’re so needy,” He cackles at your desperate attempts to receive satisfaction and pulls his fingers away, slipping them into his mouth and indulging in your taste, “You’ll wait until I’m ready.”

“Please don’t do this to me, it’s been so long—don’t you think I deserve it?”

“I do think you deserve it, which is exactly why I’ll give it to you in a way you won’t forget. You’ll get what you want if you are patient, can you do that for me?” His hands knead your thighs, and you nod in response, “Good.”

Dominance came naturally to Sukuna, in both his hobbies and his sex life. It’s what he knows best, and is certainly what he excels at. He makes you weak just by the touch of a few fingers, melting slowly as his buttery words raise you to the pedestal he sits you on. Held so highly in his life only to be belittled by his condescending words—humiliating you and taunting you for becoming so aroused. You find your gaze fixed on his heaving chest, eyes daring to lower and come in contact with his highly defined abs. Sukuna’s physique resembles a hand-carved statue, chiselled with all the fine details a true creative could only dream of. He lowers his face and stares up at you, his eyes fluttering gently making him appear innocent–you both know that’s not the case. Kisses are littered on your abdomen, and your body wriggles, silently begging for more. Your body was heating up and your stomach was in knots, anticipating the moment he finally made contact with your clit. Sensing the urgency, he drags his tongue between your folds, sending a shudder through your core. Since he started, he can’t turn back–he’s hooked on your taste, and he’s starved; a luxury he had forced himself to miss out on. He got lost quickly, but you had been far gone for much longer than he had. Your hands are tangled in his ashy, strawberry-coloured hair, fingers wrapping around strands doing their best to bring him closer. Sukuna’s tongue was toying with your clit, repeating the same circular motions. Wriggling due to the pleasure didn’t affect him, he had you locked in a position where you couldn’t move. Breathy moans fill the atmosphere as you near your climax, though your release is yet to be granted as he pulls away. Your slick is smeared across his lips, his cheeks possessing a hardly noticeable twinge of pink from his lack of oxygen intake.

“I’ve missed you, you know?” He wipes his face clean with his forearm and drags you into a longing kiss, his eyes flickering with adoration as he distances himself, “Do you think I stop thinking about you when we aren’t together?”

“I missed you more.” He pins your arms behind your head, a sultry smirk twisting his lips up. All you can do is gawk at how heavenly he looks; he’s an angel with the personality of a devil, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

“That’s impossible,” Using one hand to restrain you, his other ventures down to his boxers, stroking his dick through the fabric, “You have no idea how much you mean to me—I don’t think you fully understand the lengths I’d go for you.”

That’s the truth—you don’t know how far he’d go for you, and you’re unsure if you want to find out. His struggles with regulating his fury place him in treacherous territory; there is no doubt in your mind that he could take a life just by using his bare hands, there are times when even he is unaware of the extent his strength can reach. With his boxers now discarded, he lines his tip up with your entrance, teasing your hole while he prepares to thrust in. Though he is completely bare, your top half remains covered with his jersey. In a sudden snap of his hips, he forces his way in, your plush walls massaging the length of his dick. Allowing you time to adjust, he slowly inched his way deeper, being careful not to overstimulate you. All of his six and a half inches being consumed by you, taking him in nicely. Getting you wet is no struggle, and it certainly helps with the penetration; your body has adjusted to his girth and size, similar to a lock and key mechanism.

Thrust after thrust; sweat was pouring from Sukuna. The bed would creak at any given movement and the two of you were far from quiet, giving this floor of the hotel an insight into what you were doing. His groans would cause knots to tie in your stomach, your walls clenching around him only adding to the pleasure he receives. You are beautiful when you are sprawled out like this for him, muttering and whispering his name under your breath, assuming he wouldn’t hear it—but he heard everything. He heard how good you said it felt, he heard you chanting his name as though you were handing yourself over to him, he also heard those pleas for a release. It was nearing your breaking point, your climax had been toyed with, but now it is threatening to reach its peak.

“Tell me everything that’s been on your mind, let it all out.” Sukuna continues to wind his hips in those rugged motions, hitting sweet spots you weren’t aware existed. It took you a while to process his words, too fucked out to think straight.

“I hate how— How you distance yourself from me—” Your mouth hangs open while whines roll from your tongue, head lolling back and your eyes closing over, “And I hate how you never listen— You always— It’s always what you think is best.”

“And?”

“I wish that you’d just— That you’d—” You can’t fight your release and you cum, allowing yourself to come loose. Your breath hitches as he continues, chasing his own release.

“That I’d what?”

“I just want you to myself, ‘Kuna.” A tear slips from your eye as your overstimulation turns into a second orgasm; the presence of his lips on yours catches you off guard, resulting in you moaning in his mouth.

What once started strong becomes sloppy; his forehead is pushed against your shoulder while his groans become silent, the huffs of his breath now creating more sound. His core tightened as he pumped his cum deep inside you, your hands rubbing up and down his back while he lay down. All of the pent-up tension from his mind and body dissipated, replaced by the lust shared with you. His teeth nip at the skin on your neck, nuzzling his head further into the crook to latch on better. Your nails had etched their mark into his flesh, and his teeth had imprinted their shape into yours—a fair exchange.

“I am all yours. Every day during this break will be dedicated to you.”

“It’s the worst feeling knowing other women wish they were yours.” That’s the biggest con of having a boyfriend known in the media; it drives you insane seeing what others say about him online—especially when they find a way to criticise you for being the one he chose to settle for.

“None of them could ever compare to you; they’re spiteful. Who wouldn’t be? You’re a gorgeous young woman who is successful. They have to take their anger out on the people who are better than them. You have everything they will never obtain.” He squeezes your hand, intertwining your fingers; a symbol of remaining linked for eternity.

“I have you. I think I’ll keep you forever.” You plant a kiss on his forehead, watching the smile spread across his face; the shift in his tone was noticeable, his voice huskier than it was before.

“Who said that was a choice? You’re never leaving my side.”

#jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #oneshot #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #alternate universe #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

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hsjazebel · 2 months

Text

Desperate part 2*

Word count: 2763

A/n: I’m sorry to have made you wait so long for part 2, but here it is! I hope you enjoy💘

main masterlist | desperate masterlist

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to look me in the eyes for a week without blushing."

He looks you straight in the eyes and your mind is blank, you just want to be fucked so good and not think about anything.

“Cat got your tongue? I've barely touched you and you're already all stupid! You just want my cock in your little pussy, don't you?”

You nod not having the strength to speak, but this isn't enough for him.

“Words, baby. I need to hear your beautiful voice. Is that what you want?”

"Yes, yes. I want you!"

“Oh is it, pretty girl? You want me? Who expected that the good girl who knows how to cook such good pasta would actually hide a dirty part! But don't worry, now I'm here to scratch your itch, I'll treat your pussy so good I'll ruin you! Are you ready pretty girl? There’s no turning back.”

“Yes, I want it so bad!”

“Good girl!”

And so, he sticks his cock in you and it's like the rest disappears. You lie there with your mouth open making little moans because of the feeling of his big cock opening you up and stretching you out to make his way in your pussy.

“This is all you’re good for, just a hole for me to fuck. Such a nice, wet little pussy for m-“

The sound of your alarm clock wakes you up from your wet dream. You open your eyes trying to adjust to the light coming from the windows. Last night you forgot to lower the shutters and you're mentally cursing yourself for it.

The memories of your dream are still in your mind that you can even feel your panties getting wet.

It's been a week since your first meeting with Harry and it's been a week that you only have him on your mind.

This isn't the first time you've had a dream like this. And you know it won't be the last either.

You desperately want to take care of yourself but you don't have time because you promised your mother to go out and do some shopping together.

You decide to go take a cold shower trying not to think about the all too real feeling of Harry fucking you.

Then you choose an outfit for the day and go down to the living room where you find your mother fully dressed.

“I'm so happy to have a mother-daughter day! It's been a while since we went shopping together. I'm sad your sister isn't here too, it would have been nice to just be girls!” Your mom says as she grabs her purse and keys.

“Yeah, but she’s like Dad, she doesn't like shopping,” you follow her as you leave the house.

“I really don't know how she doesn't feel like going out and buying new clothes!” She laughs.

“I always ask myself that too!” You laugh along with her.

You both head towards the city center and start entering various shops.

After spending an hour trying on clothes, you decide to go into Sephora, a place you can't resist, and while you're debating whether or not to buy the Rare Beauty blush you hear your mother's phone ringing. She spends a few minutes on the phone and when she hangs up the call she looks at you with a sad look.

“They just called me from work. They said they found a motive against the other defendant in the trial. I have to go to the office. I'm so sorry to have to leave now, I even thought about going to brunch together.” You can tell she wasn't happy about leaving, but your mom was an established lawyer in your city, and she was now working on this very important case, she couldn't do anything about it.

“Don't worry Mom, I know how important this case is for you! I think I'll take another look in here and then I'll go get something to eat quickly,” you smile at her trying to cheer her up. “Come on, don't make that face, I'll stay here all summer, we'll find many more days to have another mother-daughter moment.”

"You are right! It seems to me that I don't see you very often and I was so happy to spend this day with you! Please don't spend too much money on makeup, I know you don't have a minimum of self-control when you come in here,” she laughs as she hugs you goodbye. You hug her back and with that you see her leave the shop.

You finish your shopping trip - and you may not have exactly listened to what your mother told you about not buying too much makeup - and decide to go alone to that brunch you were supposed to have with her.

You arrive at a small place near the center called Jerome and already from the outside you could see that the interior was all decorated in pink and this caught your attention.

You had passed by here several times but you had never seen it or heard the name of the place, so you deduce that it is a new opening, and so you decide to go in.

The interior was as you expected, all pink with neon cursive writing. On the left was a wall covered in pink and white roses with large swings as eating stations, which also had a large teddy bear that you found absolutely adorable, and on the left a large glass counter showing that which, in your opinion, was paradise.

A waitress with a welcoming smile comes towards you, inviting you to take a seat in the front room and that someone will come to take your order once you are ready.

You return her smile by thanking her kindly and make your way into the room she indicated.

On the way, you find on the right side a wall covered with pink velvet and a bicycle leaning against it with another big teddy bear on it. You find this corner particularly cute so you take your phone out of your bag to take a photo.

As you open the camera app you hear a familiar voice calling you.

“Hi Y/n!”

You turn in the direction of the voice and find the protagonist of your latest dreams sitting at a table on a pink velvet armchair.

"Oh! Hi Harry!" You return the greeting by smiling at him.

He pulls back a chair as a sign to sit next to him and you gladly accept.

“Shopping day I see,” Harry tells you pointing to the bags you had to bring with you.

"Oh yes!" You laugh. “I was out with Mum but she had to run away to work, so I'm forced to go around with all these bags!”

Harry laughs back. “That's why you're here alone.”

You are about to answer him but are interrupted by a waiter who has come to take your orders.

Once he leaves - not before giving you a sweet smile - you see Harry give the boy a not-so-kind look.

You continue your conversation until within a few minutes your food arrives.

You start eating in silence and you notice that Harry keeps staring at you.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Mh? What?"

“I see you staring at me, I asked you if I had something on my face.”

“No, no you don't have anything on your face, it's just… I don't know if it's appropriate to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

He takes a long sigh. “I was just thinking… if you have a boyfriend”

You stop yourself from laughing at his question. “No, I don't have a boyfriend. Why do you ask?"

“I was just curious to know I guess. It is undeniable that you are a beautiful girl and I also noticed how that boy looked at you before and I was just wondering if you have a boyfriend, that's all."

"Don’t worry. In fact, right now I don't want a boyfriend, I broke up a couple of months ago so I'm thinking more about myself now."

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you broke up recently. Can I ask why if it doesn't bother you?”

“Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. I've been with this Italian guy named Lorenzo for more or less a year and a half, except that in the last period, things between us haven't been going so well. In the last few months, I saw him as more detached, and in the end, I discovered that he had another woman... that’s the reason!" you laugh sarcastically.

“Excuse my language but… he must be a real dickhead to have cheated on you.”

“I'm big now, you can use bad words in my presence, and yes you're right, he's a big dickhead!” You laugh and he follows you.

After finishing your brunch you are the first to get up.

“Thanks for keeping me company, Harry. I really enjoyed talking to you!”

“No, thanks to you Y/n! And I enjoyed talking to you too! It could be done more often!” He tells you smiling, making his dimples appear.

“Yes, I would be more than happy to do it again. Maybe I could mention to Dad to invite you to dinner some evening.”

"I'd really like to."

And so you head towards the exit of the place with him opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

Once outside, however, you remember that you had arrived here in your mother's car and now that she was gone you didn't know how to get home. So your only option - other than walking in the July sun for 40 minutes on foot, which you didn't think was the best option - was to ask Harry for help.

“Um, Harry?” You call him. “Sorry but I just realized that I don't know how to get home since my mother left with the car, and.. uhm I wanted to ask you if by any chance, if it were possible for you, you could take me home.”

You didn't like bothering people about your things, because you always had the impression that you were annoying.

“Of course, I can take you home Y/n! I would never leave you stranded. In fact, I was just asking you if you wanted a ride but you beat me to it."

And with that, you head towards his car. And again, being the gentleman that he is, he opens the door for you to get into the car.

Along the way you are rather silent, in addition to the noise of the radio music in the background, there is every now and then an exchange of words.

Once you arrive at the gate of your house you almost feel sorry to let Harry go, and he seems to think the same as you.

You're about to say bye and thank him when an idea comes to you.

“You know I was thinking about the conversation we had that evening at my house and I just remembered that I have another book that I think you might like… if you want you could come in the house for a moment.”

“Yes, I'd like to come in but I don't want to disturb you."

“Don't worry, there's no one at home. Mom and Dad are at work and my sister is at the beach with some friends.”

“Oh…okay.”

He leaves the car in the driveway and so you go into the house.

As soon as you enter you head towards the bookcase in the living room but looking carefully among the books you don't find what you were looking for.

Going back in your memory you remember leaving it in your room; you had recently finished reading it and you immediately thought Harry might like it.

“Um…I think I left it in my room, if you want you can come with me, I also have other books there and I think you might find something you might like.”

"Yes, of course!"

So you go up the stairs and enter your room, but as soon as you enter you see the chair near your bathroom with your pajamas and underwear on it that you had taken off before entering the shower.

But the thing that immediately catches your eyes are your white lace panties on top of your clothes, and, if you look at them better you can also see a darker part on their crotch which you know well what is due to: the man next to you to you.

While you were both in your room, you felt a strange tension in the air. You look at Harry and notice the way he avoids your gaze as if he's hiding something. You suddenly feel vulnerable, remembering the embarrassing moment when you had accidentally left your panties on the chair. You wonder if he saw it.

“Sorry if the room is a little messy,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence.

He smiled faintly. “Don't worry, you told me that the book you recommended is here somewhere, right?”

Your heart beats faster in your chest as you try to figure out if he's just trying to be nice or if he's trying to avoid the awkward moment.

“Sure, it's right there on the nightstand,” you reply, gesturing to the book with a wave of your hand. “Sorry about the mess.”

He walks over to the nightstand, but in his gaze, he notices your panties casually placed on the chair. He lets out a short sigh, trying not to let his embarrassing discovery show. “Thank you,” he said, taking the book carefully.

The tension in the air seems to increase as they both look into each other's eyes, an energy filled with repressed desire and forbidden curiosity.

You try to ignore the racing of your heart as he walks away from the nightstand with the book in his hands.

“There are some really interesting parts,” you say, trying to keep the conversation light. "I hope you like it."

He nodded with a gentle smile. “I can't wait to read it, thanks for the advice.”

The silence that followed was heavy, full of tension and unspoken meaning. You both knew what was behind that embarrassing moment, but neither seemed ready to face it.

You bit your lower lip, trying to find the courage to say something, anything that would break the overwhelming tension. But the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

Finally, he turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you tremble slightly.

“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?” He asks you, his voice barely a whisper.

You swallow, feeling your heart beat so loudly it sounds like a drum in his ears. “Yes,” you admit in a small voice. “There is something we need to address.”

You feel your heart beating furiously in your chest as he gently approaches, creating an atmosphere full of anticipation.

“I know,” he whispers softly, his voice a seductive harmony in the air vibrant with desire.

A shiver of emotion runs through your skin as your gazes meet, communicating desires and secrets hidden deep inside.

You nod slightly, unable to articulate a sound, your breath held in anticipation of what was about to happen.

He gets even closer, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, but without ever crossing that invisible border that separated reality from enchantment.

An instant of silence full of meaning lasts longer, time seems to have stopped as you let yourself be enveloped by the magic of waiting, aware of how powerful and precious that tension suspended between you can be.

You get dangerously close to the point where you can feel his nose touching yours, the desire between you vibrating in the tense air.

Lips a few millimeters apart, the imminent contact was like a promise of suspended passion, when suddenly the sound of the front door opening resonates in the air, interrupting the intimate moment.

You both tense up instinctively, your heart quickening its pace in your chest as your gazes meet in a mixture of agitation and repressed desire.

“Y/n! I am home!" You hear your father's voice coming from downstairs.

“Fuck,” you say as you pull away from Harry, but the heat of the barely touched contact still burned on his lips, while your body trembled slightly in anticipation of what might happen.

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