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yandere-wishes · 10 months

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The Perfect Girl

Summary: Somewhere along the line the villain won and the hero lost. Now your life is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

Part #2 of Imposter Syndrome but can be read as a stand-alone. Part #3 The Spider's web

Warnings: Dollification, yandere themes but like more than usual, abuse, violence, horrible Spanish, NO NSFW but the reader and Miles are 18+. Friends to enemies to one sided lovers. This plays out as a cautionary tale.

Author's note: Can you tell I'm bad at writing Intimacy??😂🤣

You squirm uncomfortably on Miles's lap. Arms awkwardly thrown around his neck as you try to hide your face in his chest. Miles sits proudly, face void of emotions and voice overflowing with authority. He's barking orders to his underlings. For what you're not sure, you've long since stopped listening in on his conversations, your inability to do anything coupled with the innocent lives you know would be destroyed was enough to keep you awake at night. And consciousness was the last thing you wanted these days.

It's been six weeks.

Six weeks since the Prowler defeated New York's last beacon of hope. Six weeks since he'd been welcomed into the Sinister Six as their newest member. They're shining star.

Six weeks since he stole you away from everything you knew,

everything you loved.

You hear the padding of feet and the loud thump of the door. You're alone with him again. So the nightmare begins anew. You're reluctant to lift your head, to face your capturer. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. It's funny how once, back when you'd still wore your beloved silk mask, you had used to count the minutes until your midnight rendezvous.

Miles's fingers reach towards you, tilting your chin up. His smile is razor sharp, deformed as if he can't quite remember how to smile. "Muñequita" he mutters like a disjointed prayer as his fingers glide up your side. Drowning you in a sense of impending doom.

You stare into his eyes. Two voids that have seen every nightmare imaginable. Any saint, any sweet innocent boy whose been trapped inside the darkness for this long comes out as a monster. Stumbling through the night with knives instead of teeth and an appetite for destruction. Miles Morales may have been a human once, a long time ago. Before you met him, before the savior of New York met him. But now he's a monster, one who has long since buried any morals and dignity he may have once had.

Sometimes when the night rages on and you're caged between his arms and sentience. you wonder if maybe, just maybe you should go digging for any of the virtues that he's buried six feet deep. But when he laughs and tauntingly presses on a new bruise with his thumb, you conclude quickly that it's better to leave his good qualities dead. it's easier to hate him that way.

"How does it feel to sit in your arch nemesis's lap?"

He jabs as he pinches your cheek. You let out a soft cry of annoyance as you shift your gaze away from your tormentor.

Miles revels in your fall from grace. Adores pinching and probing you in front of his minions or the rest of his gang members. Loves taunting you after every failed escape attempt. You try to bite his finger, to make him feel a fraction of your pain. But before your teeth can graze his skin, he releases your cheek. He laughs, low and fragmentary. A haunting noise that reminds you that he barely counts as human anymore, just a heartless ghost masquerading as a real boy. "Trying to rebel again mi amor?".

You fight the urge to pick at the flesh of your face or bite your fingers until you reach the bone.

Miles's eyes narrow, annoyed at your lack of a response. He's growing bored, he always does when his pet refuses to play along. His gauntlet reaches for your neck. Squeezing as the claws bite into your flesh.

you should let him kill you, give him the final satisfaction of watching your blood blemish the skin-tight dress he's made you wear. Watch as the life leaves your eyes. "let's try this again mami. When I ask, how it feels your response should be.."

"I love you Miles" you mutter, all deadpan and defaced. "Not like that say it the way I taught you" he hisses, a threat, you note wearily.

"Te amo Miles"

"Bino"

Sometimes you think that he's foolish enough to believe your reprised lie. It almost helps him deceive himself into believing he still has a soul left.

He thinks he loves you.

You think he doesn't know what love quite is.

You use to be a hero, use to be revered and respected by all. You use to be someone, someone important. Laminating about all of this now will do you no good.

You're nothing more than a doll now. Painted and dressed the way Miles likes, posed forever perfectly on his lap. Flaunted and paraded as all prize trophies should be. You guess it makes sense. To the victor goes the spoils. You wonder if you would have done the same to him if you had emerged triumphant that night. Deep down, where logic doesn't reach, you know you would. At least you would have let him keep his dignity. You're not like him, you're not a villain...

But you're not a hero anymore either. What are you supposed to be anyway? When questions like this bubble into your withering mind. You force yourself to choke down the idea that you're still good, you have to be. You're not like him, like them. You're afraid that someday you'll look in the mirror and every ounce of your virtues will have evaporated. You promise yourself that that'll be the day you do something drastic. To yourself or Miles, you're not sure yet.

Miles's fingers trace the indents on your neck. Angry red puncture holes left by his steel claws. He buries his face in the crock of your neck. Licking the measly blood drops from the wounds before tenderly kissing his territory. "Stop it" you grumble trying to push at his chest. But he just growls in warning, ignoring your feeble attempts. "I got you a present, Mami" he whispers over your jugular. You flinch, as he detaches from your neck with a final kiss. He maneuvers you off his lap as he gets up and walks over to a closet on the other side of the room. Plucking out a necklace from one of the drawers.

Necklace is a generous term. Its neck tight and studded. With a silver chain hanging dead-center that speaks of horrors untold. You know what it implies, you know what he's trying to say, trying to prove. You never thought you'd miss the Prowler's iron glad punches to your stomach but you think this might just be worst. At least back then you'd been able to fight back. Reimburse every punch with a kick or stab of your own. Now you are helpless, frail. Broken glass perpetually embedded in soft cotton. Something wild, something tamed. Golden specks of a crown long since shattered tint your hair. All ghosts of who you once were.

"What do you say, muñequita," He says. In a tone that's sick, in a tone that's sweet. Like rotten nectar trickling down a destroyed paradise. Like boiling blood dripping from a broken heart. There's a click, as he fastens his present around your neck. An endless second before reality comes crashing in.

"Gracias Miles" You reply as you feel your last shard of freedom disintegrate.

You use to be something, someone. Carved from porcelain ideals and ivory hope. Divine ichor ran through your veins as you swung across New York's skyline. You had been chosen, but you hadn't been enough.

Now it feels like someone tore you apart. Ripped away your flesh, your bones, your thoughts, your soul. Stitched you up wrong with a rusted needle and a thread of ash. And all you could do was sit there and watch as your golden blood seeped through ruptured veins.

Miles grabs your shoulders. Pulling you close enough so the spikes of your necklace cut into his flesh. His lips bite yours teasingly before they finally merge into a dreadful kiss. He isn't the Prowler you remember, albeit you know that's wrong. He's not the Prowler you had fabricated when you'd thought that the two of you were both innocent souls driven to madness by this city. You use to think that Miles was beautiful, a moon-kissed face with stardust dripping from his eyes. Now you know the truth. He's nothing more than a nightmare, the embodiment of starless darkness and the terrors that lurk upon blackened city streets. He's not your friend. He never was. You were just so foolish and overwhelmed back then.

"You're mine, héroe." His voice is nothing short of a dagger laced with venom. Spreading apathetic poison from your heart to your lungs and leaking into your bloodstream. You see blood behind your eyes when your eyelids shut. Feel the apprehension pounding in the hollows of your bones.

You've long since hemmed every hole where your pride and glory use to bleed through. But it's so hard to keep divinity down when it's all you've ever known. This life isn't yours. This thing that Miles has forced you to be isn't you. There's still hope, you think. Heroes never lose hope. It's a lesson everyone learns, sooner or later.

Later that night Miles kisses you again, this time whispering how to him you are perfection personified. The dark circles under your eyes and bloody knuckles validate that. He traces circles on your arms whilst telling you about how the Sinister Six plan to expand their operations to the next city over. All this makes you wonder if he'd ever been a sweet little boy, tucked under his mother's arm, whilst his father kisses his cheek. Of if he's always been a merciless monster who wears his kills like honor badges.

You pray under your breath as he reminds you that you're no longer a hero. You wonder if you pray because you are human or if praying makes you human. There are still some fragments of hope bubbling inside you regardless of what he says.

Miles likes to remind you that you no longer have the power to save anyone. That the villains won and the heroes lost and that's the way this story ends.

You refuse to believe him.

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mysunfreckle · 6 months

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Catherine Morland's parents are described as "plain, matter-of-fact people who seldom aimed at wit of any kind" and all we see on the page of her mother is definitely more plain sense than feeling sensibility. So it is very amusing to me that we also get this account of her taste in books, in a conversation between Isabella and Catherine:

“It is so odd to me, that you should never have read Udolpho before; but I suppose Mrs. Morland objects to novels.” “No, she does not. She very often reads Sir Charles Grandison herself; but new books do not fall in our way.” “Sir Charles Grandison! That is an amazing horrid book, is it not? I remember Miss Andrews could not get through the first volume.” “It is not like Udolpho at all; but yet I think it is very entertaining.”

The History of Sir Charles Grandison is an epistolary novel in six volumes from 1753 (so about 45 years old at the time of Northanger Abbey) by Samuel Richardson, and it features:

The beautiful, virtuous young orphan Harriet Byron, with a fortune of 15000 pounds, being pursued by a whole fleet of suitors.

The dastardly Sir Hargrave kidnapping Miss Byron from a masquerade ball and imprisoning her to force her into a marriage

The valiant Sir Charles Grandison coming to her rescue and fighting Sir Hargrave until he can bring her to safety

Miss Byron and Sir Charles falling in love but knowing that it cannot be, because! he is promised to another woman!

The other woman breaking off the engagement, the hero and heroine getting married, and then valiantly stepping up to help the Other Woman stand up to her family

Sir Hargrave dying of a dueling wound after mistreating yet another woman and leaving Miss Byron part of his estate to beg her forgiveness

It also includes a lot of moralising on religion, virtue, motherhood, and good society, which is probably why it a perfect pick for Mrs. Morland. It's all the thrill of abduction and rescue and devoted pining, but neatly dressed up in a morality tale about being good and proper. So you need not blush to say you enjoyed it and can even recommend it to your daughters.

It is also a book that is known for the constancy of its characters. Their morality, good or bad, is very fixed and plain to see. Which also fits with much of the Morlands' approach to people.

All I'm seeing is 16-year-old Catherine almost tripping over her feet to get to her mother with her current volume of Sir Charles Grandison clutched to her chest. Absolutely squealing with excitement over the Miss Byron being rescued from Hargrave's carriage by a virtuous nobleman who refused to even draw his sword because he abhors violence, while her mother placidly comments on how pleasant it is to see kindness and goodness so well reflected in literature.

#austen #jane austen #northanger abbey #sunfreckle's scribbles #sir charles grandison

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fandom · 10 months

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Ships

Week Ending June 26th, 2023

Destiel Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Steddie +1 Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things

Zelink -1 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda

Punkflower Hobie Brown & Miles Morales, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Ineffable Husbands Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Byler Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things

Chaipunk Pavitr Prabhakar & Hobie Brown, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Vashwood Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun Stampede

Macdennis Mac McDonald & Dennis Reynolds, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Sulemio +6 Suletta Mercury & Miorine Rembran, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Shadowpeach Sun Wukong & the Six-Eared Macaque, Lego Monkie Kid

Jegulus James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe

Wolfstar +1 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Ghostsoap +3 Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise

Kahlopatra -2 Frida Kahlo & Cleopatra, Clone High

Hannigram -6 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Adrienette Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Soukoku Nakahara Chuuya & Dazai Osamu, Bungou Stray Dogs

Merthur -8 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Wenclair Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous week. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last week.

#ships #06/26/2023 #macdennis #iasip

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bakugoushotwife · 6 months

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kinktober day twenty-six: bondage kink

>>> yeah i got filthy with this one tbh and i've never written for daddy aizawa before! i hope we enjoy this natstiness.

>>> starring: shouta aizawa x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: kinda darkish, yandere-ish like behavior from aizawa, bondage with the scarf, choking, degradation, slight angst, mc hurt and recovery, slight breeding/baby-trapping, edging, orgasm ruining, one daddy lol >>> wc: 3.2k >>> event masterlist:

this is exactly why he kept working as an underground hero. maybe if you would have listened to him and followed his lead, then he might not regret his own choice. you were popular. way more popular than you should be for the eighth ranked pro-hero, but shouta knew why. you’re the country’s sweetheart, gorgeous and funny–perfect with the press and paparazzi, so sweet to fans but oh so brutal to villains. you were the commission’s people’s princess, and he couldn’t stand it.

shouta isn’t a jealous type. he didn’t yearn to be in your shoes, after all you were constantly complaining to him about all the photoshoots and pressers and all the key-to-the-city ceremonies you had to attend. it seems like less and less of your schedule was actual hero work and the rest of it was reserved for the flashier side of the business. he didn’t wish to trade places at all. because he stayed underground—people only knew him as eraserhead, nothing about his private life—including his long-term relationship with everyone’s favorite number eight pro. he just got to go about his business, taking down his assignments without any showmanship required. he just got to keep his head down and eliminate bad guys, all before coming home to you at night.

and sure, you were ogled. talk show hosts, interviewers, your own fanbase, and even other heroes had their fair share of tries at you, but aizawa never feared. you always gave them the same apologetic grin, informing them that you weren’t single and never would be again. of course, people pry about your love life. you never betrayed shouta’s wish for privacy, always swearing that your beau was none of their concern—your hero work should speak for itself. shouta was always proud of you and the way you handled things. you were just and fair, a strong hero with good morals and you were simply unafraid of speaking your mind. if not for the…sigh, corrupt, hero society that we were currently operating under, things would be perfect.

but this was not a perfect world, and he knew that all too well. he’s watched you and other colleagues take on mismatched quirks or scenarios without enough information. it’s a tale as old as time. they make a martyr out of a low-ranking hero just to remind the rest of society how bad villains really were, like they weren’t the biggest villains out there. as badly as aizawa hated your publicity and stardom, he had hoped that it would keep you safe. you garnered so much attention and popularity for the heroes. there was no way they would put you at risk.

so the day the word reached his base, he thought he was having a nightmare. it was only when he turned on the news that his worst fears were confirmed. the camera had the perfect shot of you laying in the rubble, face scraped and bloody—unmoving. the banner below the frame read, “breaking: number eight hero taken down in shinjuku city! villain slaughtered by the brave hero; backup on the way!”

taken down? what exactly does that mean? were you dead? did they actually take you from him—all without anyone knowing how much you mean to him, how much he loves you? his face falls, and he realizes that staying underground may have been the wrong move. would they have killed him instead? would he have been there with you then, to at least keep you safe? his head is full of questions that he can’t find answers to by standing in the middle of his hq. no one understands why eraserhead looks so pale as he navigates to the tokyo hospital, though a few have sneaking suspicions as they watch your body loaded into an ambulance.

he’s there before you are, waiting to hear any news in the lobby alongside your sidekicks and work study students. he recognized a few of them as students of his own, and it made him sick all over again. why did he allow this? why didn’t he make you take underground work? why couldn’t he follow you if nothing else, becoming a part-time hero while you took on villains way out of your league. if you had someone like him with you, you wouldn’t have ever gotten hurt.

he can’t forgive himself as he looks at you hooked up to machines reading off just how close you were to death. it took you days to wake up, weeks to get out of the hospital on your own accord. shouta was there every step of the way, taking it on himself to ensure you made a full recovery. not because he would willingly let you back into this fucked set up, but because he needed you to be okay. he would never be able to forgive himself if you suffered permanent damages from this fight.

luckily, or maybe unluckily so, the love of his life is a fighter. you make physical therapy a breeze, taking strides ahead of the curve and getting back to your new normal with the help of some rest and the loving care of your boyfriend. shouta seldom left your side, though he kept hinting at a change in your professional life once your progress proves that you’re ready to put the suit back on.

“follow you underground? shouta, honey i’m the number eight. everyone’s waiting for me!” you try to reason with him. you knew it had to be hard on him to watch you at your lowest. you can’t imagine how terrified you would be if the situation was reversed, and you were the one nursing him back to health. you’d never be able to take your eyes off him again—so how can you expect him to abandon this?

“yeah i know, waiting for your return, all heroes will rally behind you and go on another villain elimination crusade.” he drawls rather annoyed. you were supposed to go back to work today–shouta’s many chides not doing the trick until he finally demanded you to stay home this morning. here you stood in your spandex suit, ready to throw your life on the line without any thought or hesitation even after you were almost killed. it makes him sick with worry. you’re brainwashed.

you bat your eyes at him, folding your arms over your chest. he watches you with a ticked brow, lazy half-lidded eyes waiting for your response. “is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

he angrily rubs at the stubble on his cheek. “yes–what actually ever comes of this? why do so many heroes die like this every year, just like you–set up to fail? you managed to escape with your life this time. but they’ll make a cause out of you, too. i cannot allow that.” he mirrors your posture, and you narrow your eyes at him this time.

“i killed that villain.” you huff indignantly. “and i’m fine, shouta. don’t pretend i am fragile.” you cock your head at him. he scoffs, looking down his nose at you.

“you are. i didn’t realize it before, but you almost died due to my overconfidence in you.” he deadpans, images of you bloody and broken flashing in his mind. “i won’t make that mistake again. beat me, and you can leave.”

it’s your turn to scoff. “excuse me? i am not fighting you, shouta—everyone gets hurt from time to time that is hardly a reason to lose faith in my abilities.” his scarf wraps around your wrist. you look at the tie and look back at him, raising and indignant brow. “really? you’re gonna play this card?”

you activate your quirk in an effort to escape his binds, purposefully moving quickly to beat your lover’s quirk. after years of being together and learning how to fight effectively against the other, you’ve learned how to avoid it—but he stays three steps ahead. his scarf keeps you from running out of view, and your quirk is gone before you can do much else but yank against his hold on your wrist. his black hair floats and his lazy eyes turn red as you roll your own. you try to throw a punch his way, your only way to win now was to make him blink. his scarf fully unravels to take you on though, catching your other wrist and tying them together in front of you.

“shouta.” you say sternly, heart racing as he proved you wrong. you couldn’t even beat someone you have battle experience on with a soft spot for you—there was no way you were ready for patrols with the possibility of engaging in battle again. you were hoping the call of his name would be enough to buy you some time, but based on the way his brow arches and he steps forward–you know he won’t be giving you any.

“you lost. i could do anything with you right now.” he pushes you back toward the bed, keeping his hold on the binds taut. “and you know me. but now you’re under my control. you know you aren’t ready.” he looks down at your form sitting on the bed, unable to fight him—unable to get away. “what would happen if i was your enemy, hm? tell me, darling. you would be finished. i could have my way with you and you couldn’t do anything to stoop it.” he tugs on the fabric around your wrists.

something about the way he says that has your bratty side kicking up like the tingling in your veins. “yeah? i’d like to see you try.” you pull back on the scarf, and he gives you a lopsided smirk. his free hand grabs your chin, lowering his face to yours.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he nods, smashing his lips on yours. your eyes fall closed, and you imagine he does the same based on the energy restored in your veins. you wouldn’t dare fight him now, however. shouta was right. you had no business going back to work yet, and if he got it his way, you wouldn’t return to that line of work at all. you were too precious to him and this incident was a wake up call. you are his whole life, the one thing that gives him unending happiness even on bad days. he wants to marry you—to build a life with you, and he can’t do that if you’re convinced you actually matter to this hero society. he can’t do that if villains take you from him. so if he has to embrace his inner bad guy for your greater good, then so be it. twist his arm.

his thin lips slot perfectly against yours, possessive and all-consuming like the heat that takes over your body from the touch. his stubbly chin collides with yours as his fingers search for your bundle through your skin-tight hero suit. it was annoyingly easy to find considering how the fabric clings to your every dip, and your head falls back as soon as he starts rubbing over it. he chuckles at how easy you are, though he knows that’s because of him. another benefit of the entire world wanting his girlfriend—they could want to their heart’s content. he got the real thing, and goddamn if you weren’t addicted to him, giving him free reign with you in moments like these. though this time it was borderline dangerous. you were letting him treat you like a villain after months of being without you as you rehabilitated. but as you kiss, he realizes he’s being too loving to teach you a lesson so serious. he pulls away, shoving you by the chin.

“you know what villains do with hero sluts?” he asks, his gravelly voice low and almost bored sounding juxtaposed against what he was actually saying as he circles around to your back. the tone goes straight to your core, and you have to bite on your lip to keep from responding. he pops the zipper on your uniform, dragging the pathetic excuse of armor down your body. he rearranges his scarf’s hold on you to get the annoying garment off you completely. you squirm at the air on your skin and the scarf wrapping around your neck—pulling your hands back together—over your head this time. it’s tight enough that you know struggling will get you nowhere, but he’s careful. “especially the weak ones, the pretty ones?”

you shake your head as if you don’t know where he’s going with the demonstration. he shoves your legs apart, replacing his fingertips on your now bare glistening pearl. “they make them villain toys instead, and you would be the most prized one.” he grumbles at you, watching the pinch of your brow as he rubs you expertly. “they’d play with you for hours, see what all your pretty cunt handle.” he hums, sliding around the mess you’re making. once his fingers are coated in your slick, he shoves three of them inside brutally. you scream out at the burn, writhing as his bony fingers curl into your spot so crudely you were seeing colors that didn’t have names. he tugs a little at the cloth around your neck, making you gasp at the slight squeeze. it’s all such a delicious combination, and your hips are still free to grind down on his perfectly angled digits. your pretty chest heaves as your orgasm rapidly approaches. “shouta–”

“they certainly wouldn’t let you cum.” he removes his fingers from you with a nasty little squelch. you whine at the loss, struggling against your binds in an effort to pull him closer. he licks the essence of you off his fingers, humming in approval. it drives you crazy how relaxed he looks, like edging you was just his average wednesday afternoon, but perhaps that was part of your lesson. besides, the crinkle of fondness by his eyes tells you that this is only done out of your best interest. he knows you arms must be getting tired, but he couldn’t risk not running you ragged. he pushes your thighs apart again, deciding the best way to exhaust you was with his cock. he shrugs his pants down his thighs, pumping his length in preparation for you. he was well endowed—certainly enough to punish you with. you shiver at the sound of his belt clinking against the button of his pants, waiting for the feeling of his hot thick length parting your walls. he was so weighty, curved just to abuse the spots he needs to reach. he’s well trimmed and pale like the rest of his lean form, his leaking slit betraying his cool appearance. he looks up at you with disdain, clearly still annoyed that he had to tame you like this anyway. he’d much rather let you free, letting you touch and enjoy him just as he does to you, but it it seems you’re more stubborn than he thought.

he shoves your legs up to your ears, giving you all of his length without pause or warning. “they’d never be careful” he grunts, squeezing the back of your plush thighs at the same time you vice grip his dick. his scarf tightens around your neck, finally constricting some of your air as he pulls out, sending you reeling when he plunges back into the hilt, repeating this and tightening his scarf every time. you moan out embarrassingly loud. in a way, you had already agreed to your partner’s wishes by letting him have his way with you, as he put it earlier. he knew this too of course, as he certainly couldn’t treat you any real way a villain would, and he knows you would love this far too much to consider it a lesson by any means.

not like he’s complaining, though this is more work than he would regularly like to put in, it sure is worth it to see your tongue loll out of your mouth and eyes roll back behind those pretty lids. he finally sets a steady pace, rocking into you evenly with an extra shove at the end to kiss your cervix. the squeeze on your throat was so stimulating, giving your head just the right amount of dizziness—his cock strokes your walls in such a mouthwatering way you know you won’t even be able to warn him about your orgasm this time. he’s smart enough to know it’s coming with the way your pussy flutters around him, little whines tumbling from your lips like a promise that you’d never leave the safety of this house again. he lets you tumble off the edge this time, watching your legs jump once before removing himself from you completely, letting his scarf wrap back around him for a brief moment. you cry out at the ruined orgasm, staring at him with contempt. he smiles in amusement.

“oh, you’re mistaken. weak little heroes like you are in no position to give such attitude.” he shakes his head in disappointment, his scarf descending again to roll you over and take your wrists behind your back. you have no choice but to bury your cheek in the bed as shouta positions your hips where he wanted them. you squeal out when he plows back in, the angling has your toes curling and mouth drooling. “at least this hero slut has good pussy.” he drawls, giving your ass a light spank. “probably the only thing that would keep you alive out there.” he groans as you clamp down on him again, making him grin. you clearly enjoy his dirty talk–evident by your slutty moans and spasming cunt. “think you should finally get to cum, little hero?”

you nod rapidly, whimpering loud. “please daddy, wanna stay your hero whore~” you say so sweetly that even a man as detached as shouta aizawa couldn’t deny you when he’s supposed to be the bad guy. he nods, letting your arms go.

“then do it, show me what a slut i have. maybe i’ll breed her and make her stay home.” he grunts, feeling you clench him and yell out for the last time. your vision burns white as you let yourself sink into the overwhelming ocean of pleasure that’s been denied to you for so long hitting you all at once. you sputter out whines and moans, giving his cock a pretty ring of your creamy release. his head falls back at the sight, black hair sticking to the sweat he’s worked up. he can’t hold it off any longer, pelvis still against your ass as he empties his load, balls drawing up to give you everything. you nod contently, feeling the warmth seep through your core. his scarf withdraws completely—not before pulling your hair to one side so he could see your blissed out face.

“don’t go back to work.” he pants, feeling up the curve of your back as he softens inside you. “can’t get that close again.” he nods, finding your eyes. you sigh softly, rolling to your back as he gets something to clean you up with.

“guess i gotta since you’re burying loads in me now.” you snicker, and he holds the towel out of reach to tease you, expression bored—though one corner of his mouth creeps up. he hopes it takes, nothing would distract you from your lack of career like a new one.

#kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kyleewritesmha #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa sensei #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa smut

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gosmigenergy · 7 months

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KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eight

( Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader x Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia )

SEX POLLEN/FUCK OR DIE / CHASTITY / SEXUAL COMPETITION

Summary: Coming home from work, all you want to do is collapse on the sofa with Frankie and snuggle but a mystery package makes your evening a little more interesting.

Day Eight of @absurdthirst's fabulous Kinktober prompt list!

Warnings: Mentions of food and drink, sex powder/pollen, arguing, Santiago and Frankie being dom if you squint, biting, oral - female receiving/male receiving, fingering, squirting, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), rough sex, choking, three-way, MMF, spit roasting, Santiago gets a little soft, no use of Y/N

(If I miss anything, please say and I’ll adjust)

Word Count: 4.5k

Notes: I originally planned to write a Leash and Collar story with Santiago on Day Six but never got the chance, that storyline however is alluded to here. Maybe I’ll write it someday.

You were ready to go home and collapse on the sofa after a long day at work. It was Friday night so Frankie would have order some form of take out, the fire would be on to take the edge off the chillier evenings and he probably would have stashed some snacks away from his daughter. All signs would point to a good night in, though your interest peaked when you opened the door to see Santiago also sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Santiago.”

Francisco was hidden behind the fridge door, “Drink?”

“Please.”

You pull off your coat and step further in, your cold nose immediately being alleviated by the warm orange glow filling the room.

“Your pizza’s getting cold.”

You scramble to get your shoes off, hurrying to make your way to the kitchen table, a cardboard box still steaming. Frankie always ordered your favourite, he knew each variation of your takeaway orders from the Chinese down the block to this, the pizza place just on the edge of town.

Sitting down, you open it up and sigh as the cheese stretches apart.

He places a beer in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’ve you been, Santi?”

He snorts, “See, Fish, that’s how you welcome a guest.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “Hey, I’m used to you coming and asking for a favour, hermano.”

“I’ve been fine, honey, just making sure my favourite pairing were ok.”

Actually, he was seeing if Frankie still had the hump about getting you a collar, everyone in the kink scene knows what a collar means and Santiago doesn’t necessarily own you. He’s put Francisco through too much shit to do something like it again.

You glance to Frankie, “It’s all been good.”

“You didn’t tell her how pissed you were, did you?”

“Of course, not. We’ve settled this, quit talking about it.”

You never questioned what they spoke about in their native language, it was clear they didn’t want you to know, it was also apparent that Frankie was annoyed and Santiago was fucking lapping it up, a smirk on his face.

“Now, now boys.”

You chew your food with a smile and the atmosphere calms.

They continue to ask about your day and all the usual tales about an ordinary suburban life before you can’t bring yourself to take another bite. As you tidy everything away, plating up a couple of slices for tomorrow, you catch an unopened parcel addressed to Francisco on the side.

“What’s this?”

Picking it up you see Benny’s handwriting.

“Why’s Benny sending you something?”

“I dunno, it’s Benny, he’s probably found something he thinks is funny.”

“Are you gonna open it?”

“No.”

You tilt your head, “Can I open it?”

Frankie shrugs, “Sure.”

Santiago has a glint in his eye, all he wants to do is take a jab at the fact he’s letting his girl open his mail. He chooses to keep his mouth shut because he doesn’t need Frankie throttling him this evening.

Popping the parcel on the table, you rummage for a knife to break the duck tape.

“Any ideas?”

“Nah, man, knowing Benny it’s some sort of odd sex thing. You sure you want her to open that?”

Frankie honestly couldn’t care less, Benny had sent him some shit in the past, including a fake letter with lacy underwear hanging from the seal. Benny thought he’d have a laugh however he used it as an excuse to move and never come face-to-face with that postal worker again. It was small, what harm could it do?

You press the blade along the sides first before gently cutting the box along the middle, then the next part, is a little bit of a blur.

Your soft touch meant the box didn’t quite do what it was intended to until your face was close. Whatever way Benny rigged it, the lid of the item inside exploded off like an overenthusiastic Jack in the Box, sending a smoke plume of pink.

You heard a chair scrape heftily on tiled floors, felt the pressure of hands grabbing your arms as your back met the countertop behind. Frankie spewed a variety of profanities, both in English and Spanish, as you choked and spluttered on whatever had come from that package.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You blinked, the pink still in your vision.

Frankie brought his hands to your cheeks, callous thumbs rubbing, his big brown eyes searching your face. There was a tingling sensation that spread down your face pleasantly, it wasn’t scary just unusual.

“Everything alright?”

“I - urgh,” you process your words. “What the fuck was that?”

To your surprise, Santiago was still sat down, brows knotted. Benny wouldn’t be this stupid would he?

He draws the box closer, pulling out two pieces of paper. The first reads ‘Have fun you two ;P’, and the second is a pamphlet in a pink equally matching the cloud that escaped.

“Shit.”

“What?” Frankie’s query came from deep within his throat, your pussy clenched.

“I’ve heard of this, it’s just hit the market.”

By the way he says market, you know he means a kinky one.

“Pope, I swear -“

“It’s a powdered aphrodisiac…”

Both you and Frankie look at him with confused expressions, he would never tell either of you how adorable you looked or maybe it’s because those tiny potent particles are in the air.

“And our girl just got a face full of it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh,” you say quietly.

That tingling in your face had travelled, you could feel it in every limbs, running through your veins, pooling in excitement. You wrap your fingers over the edge of the countertop to steady yourself, swallowing hard.

Frankie swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Oh no.”

You try to focus on your breathing, slowing down your increasing heartbeat but it’s seeming impossible, you can feel you legs turning to jelly. All you could think about was getting out of the space, containing your building ecstasy out of the vicinity of two men who, right now, were not burning with desire.

You take a couple of steps and Santiago is on his feet.

“Stop,” he comes forward.

“What, no, we’re not doing this,” Frankie blocks his path.

You try to make your escape as they start to argue.

“Are you serious, Fish? She’s got to get this out of her system.”

“There’s gotta be another option.”

“This isn’t the sort of thing that just wears off when she goes to sleep.”

You can’t remember their argumentative tones sounding this fucking good before. You were salivating at the thought of their heated bodies almost pressed up against each other, their hot breath teasing each other’s skin, muscle taut. The image wouldn’t leave your mind and you froze.

The noise that you released was both a cry of pain and pleasure.

Their voices hush before Frankie cautiously called your name.

Turning round, you pull at the edge of you skirt, your body vibrating. It was like you’d been called out at school, you couldn’t look either of them in the eye.

Santiago stood there as he does when things get serious, hands on hips, head hanging low. His eyes are dark.

“On the table.”

Frankie’s cock twitched, mouth hanging slightly agape and he looks back to you.

“Do as he says.”

He could be authoritative when he needed to be Frankie and it made your situation worse. You shuffle, the friction of your thin underwear threatening at your clit. Following their instruction, you pick yourself up onto smooth wooden top, feet dangling.

Santiago took the lead.

His touch sent electric shocks through your knees, pushing them wider. He lifts up your skirt and sees how dark your panties are, he hisses.

“You’re fucking soaked.”

Your lip quivered, “I’m scared.”

He picked up your chin, delivered you a soft smile.

“We’re going to help you, don’t worry.”

You laugh, built up nervous energy does that to you.

He waits for it to pass.

“Lay back for me.”

You continue to do as you’re told, your back meeting the table.

Santiago throws your skirt up and out of the way, fingertips grazing your thighs as he knelt at your feet. He trailed kisses up your leg, starting soft before growing heavier, his teeth nipping at your flesh before he soothed with his tongue.

Your breath was shaky.

“You’re going to be such a good girl for us, aren’t you honey?”

Frankie watches how you shiver, how your chest rises and falls as you steady yourself. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and the sensation goes straight to his hardening cock, he can’t look away as his friend brushing the tip of his nose over your mound.

You mewl as he presses his lips against that built up bundle of nerves and groans.

“Feel free to step in whenever you like.”

Santiago glances over his shoulder, lips pouted, wet with the residue of your pleasure.

You pick up your head drunkenly, wondering why Santiago had stopped but also to look at him, eyes glossed with held back tears. The corner of your lips curl with a feeble smile, you’re worried about him.

“Just concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Frankie comes over and crashes his lips onto yours, your head falling back with the force of his action. You gasp, only allowing him to slip in his tongue and roam your mouth, yours working in tandem. He fumbles to undo your shirt buttons before his hands claw at freshly exposed skin, his thumbs following the curvature of your breasts.

Santiago hooked your underwear to one side, the tip of his tongue licking along the creases of your outer lips with careful precision.

You moan into Frankie’s mouth and he gladly accepts.

He pulls your shirt further open, catching the elasticated straps of your bra and running along the edge to free your breasts from the cups. He grabs them in handfuls, breathing in every delicious noise that escaped you.

Santiago’s cock was straining against his jeans, the air he was breathing thick with the scent of your juices. Letting go of your hip, he carries on licking you whilst his free hand pulled at his belt, popping open the button and unzipping with a satisfied sigh. He was throbbing, his balls feeling heavier than usual, he was going to take you on this fucking table if it was the last thing he did on earth.

Frankie finally let you come up for air but it didn’t mean he stopped.

His kisses ran down your neck and along your décolletage, his patchy whiskers scratching. You ran your fingers through his brown curls, nails digging into the scalp, raising his face up. His Adam’s apple bobbed as the saliva built against his cheeks, the colour of his eyes no longer visible.

And Santiago?

Santiago didn’t like not having some attention.

“Fuck!”

You cry as he presses his tongue flat against your cunt and licks in one lengthily swoop, your legs clamping around his head.

“Santi.”

Your shoulders fall back as he takes another lick.

If looks could kill, Santiago knows he’d be dead, the glare Frankie delivered him was enough to do that but it only made him smirk behind you. He chose to ignore the other man, taking two fingers and slipping them into your folds.

You moan, back arching as the spark ignited.

Frankie’s brows furrowed, expression stern but Santiago had only brought you closer.

Returning to your neck, he locked himself tightly into the crook, sucking hard.

“Shit.”

He was going to leave a mark.

His teeth grazed your chest, he moved down the middle before his slopping nose nudged your one breast. He pursed his lips before taking your nipple in his mouth and biting gently.

You hissed through gritted teeth, your hand reaching for the back of his head once again.

You were fit to burst.

Santiago was ruthless, pumping in and out of your weeping cunt at an alarming pace whilst Frankie was playing and nuzzling at your breast like a wild animal. You couldn’t see yourself but you know their brown eyes were dark, hungry to soak up every piece of pleasure you had to offer.

You weren’t going to last much longer.

The fever had entered every fibre of your being, ran hot through your veins and vibrated every muscle, your stomach coiling. Your skin was tingling, the pink film over your eyes lifting, bursting into white spots. Your walls were fluttering around Santiago’s digits and he knew exactly what he had to do then.

He straightened up, the tip of his cock notching the edge of the table as he continued to stroke you. He watched in delight as you dug your nails further into Frankie’s scalp, your neck taut as you gasped for air.

His fingertips curled, pressing into that soft sweet spot, thumb closing on your clit.

You screamed, snapping your legs closed yet you still didn’t give him what he wanted and that only coaxes him more.

He draws circles with his thumb as you visibly shake.

“Santi, please,” you whine.

You want him to stop, the sensation overwhelming, the blood rushing to your ears. Your hips rise to try and alleviate the pressure but he’s having none of it.

“You know what I want.”

His voice was low, gravely.

You sob. You were rarely a brat however you knew if you let yourself go, the flood gates would open and with the powder in your system, you had no idea of the outcome. But all three of you knew it had to happen eventually.

“Honey,” Santiago grazed his fingertips over your stomach, “Cum for me.”

He spread his hand and pushed you flat to the table, digging his fingers deep into that spongy spot and you unravelled. Your juices gushed, coating his hand as he removed it to rub over your clit and help you ride out your orgasm.

This is the first time Frankie has seen you squirt.

He finds himself unable to concentrate as he separates from your chest and watches your arousal soaks the kitchen floor.

“Fuuuck, querida.”

The comedown sent shocks through your body, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you gasp for air.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

He kissed your lips gently and that’s all it took for the powder to take effect yet again. You deepen the kiss, placing both hands on his patchy jawline to keep him there.

Santiago unzips his top before desperately pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. The sweat already clung to his chest, pre cum already leaking from his cock as he shred his trousers too. Tucking his hands underneath your hips, he hauled you closer to him in one motion, ripping you from Frankie.

He balanced your lower half on the edge of the table.

“Wouldn’t you prefer the bedroom?”

“I need you here…”

He shook his head, focusing on playing with your clit against the radiating tip of his cock. It sent a shiver down your spine, a ragged breath falling from his lips as he stroked your folds. Your hands gripped the wood for dear life, you were in trouble.

“Now.”

And he pushed himself deep in one vigorous snap of the hips.

Santiago groaned, his chest rumbling against you as he brought your body to his.

“Still so tight,” he slurred to Frankie.

“Even after that? You’re losing your touch.”

You have time to catch your breath, walls pulsating around him.

“Eh, I’ll make sure you eat your words later.”

“We all know you’ll be the one with a dick in your mouth.”

Santiago squinted at Frankie to gage whether he was lying through his teeth except the man kept a straight face. Santiago had seen Frankie’s cock in the showers during their years in the military, he knew he’d be a decent size when he was hard, he’d gladly take him.

Ok, now this conversation was taking too long. You groan, “Please, hurry up and fuck me.”

The boys share a laugh.

Neither of them were used to you being like this. Sure, you always wanted sex when it came to it but this was desperate and needy and that mouth of yours, Santiago couldn’t get over it. You were normally so pliant and good for him that he may have to ensure he puts your mouth to good use later.

He swats your ass, sending a shockwave that bucks your hips.

“Been as you asked so politely.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into hot flesh and the thought of your trouble got worse, you were in real fucking trouble now.

Santiago had always fitted in you, his length perfect, his girth enough to stretch you but pleasurable and with the powder, you were riding high. He wasn’t like his usual, meticulous self, he had lost as much sense as you.

It was fast and rough, his cock gliding through your slick.

Everything within you burned, the sounds filling the room, the grunts of Santiago and the moans of you a musical unison.

Frankie couldn’t believe what he was hearing or seeing, every detail crystal clear like he was watching a film against a cinema screen. How every thrust of Santiago’s hips sent a ripple through you muscles, boobs bouncing, your knuckles turning white as you held on, your expression scrunched as he pushed you closer to your next release.

Then there was his cock, hard and constricted against his jeans, he had to get involved before he blew his load.

He scrambled to get his clothes off, the heat now radiating from him.

He was never a selfish lover so he found it surprising that how Santiago dominated you was a bit of a turn on. Maybe that’s why you agreed to their offer when the four of you met that evening, each one of them were different and you liked every single one of them for just that reason.

Though the blood was pumping quickly through his veins, Frankie approached the table cautiously.

Santiago caught him out of the corner of his eye and slowed, he needed to because he knew he was close.

Frankie took your chin, soothed you as he brushed his palm across your face, a thumb rubbing your cheek bone. Your expression relaxed, head falling to the side so you could drunkenly look at him and he smiled.

“Think you can handle me too?”

His thumb crept to you mouth and Santiago stopped, drawing circles on your thighs, cock steady inside you. He waited to see if you’d answer, he knew when you got overwhelmed or had a face full of aphrodisiac powder, your brain would get foggy.

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, only enough for Frankie to hear, he leans down and delivers the lightest of kisses. You chase for him yet he pulled back, wrapping his other hand around his cock and bringing it to your lips. Much like how Santiago’s looked, the tip was flaming bright, the veins that ran his length bulging at the work of the powder.

Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip before you lick the precum off his tip, he hisses at the touch. Flitting your eyes to his face to check he’s ok, you carry on, taking the end into your mouth and circling the ridge where his skin had pulled back.

The shiver travels through him, a strangled moan that has Santiago’s cock twitching.

“Did you teach her that?”

Frankie laughed cracking under the pressure of two sets of eyes on him.

“No, she does that all by herself.”

“Fuck, how is she so good?”

“I wish I knew.”

Santiago really did because if that was just natural, he was jealous.

You circled Frankie’s tip once more before loosening your jaw and took his length in your mouth, the edge of your nose tickling at his matching brown curls at the base.

Santiago watched you pull back and match the rhythm with his hips.

As you guided yourself back down, Santiago pushed himself back in, your moan travelling along Frankie’s cock. He wrapped his hand the back of your head, fisting your hair as he helped you take what you could, your walls flutter.

“You two are gonna be the death of me.”

You and Santiago shared a look, Frankie unaware as his eyes were screwed shut.

He picked up the speed as you did you best to keep up, humming as your lips tightened around Frankie who steady you more. Santiago took both your ankles and placed them over his shoulder, practically folding you in half as he brought his weight down on you. He couldn’t keep it up much longer and if he was going, he was taking you both with him.

His next thrust hits deep.

The notion knocked the wind out of you, Frankie’s cock falling out of your mouth as you came for air.

Santiago din’t care, the way your cunt reacted to him was so intoxicated and he wanted that over and over until he filled you. Frankie couldn’t blame him either, he needed you to take him more so he could cum down that throat of yours.

They both knew you had it in you but right now, the room almost spinning as the fiery sensation entered every bone.

Frankie guided his cock back to your mouth, pushing gently at the back of your head.

Santiago was relentless, his balls shrinking as they seemed to overfill. His legs were cramping, his knees protesting yet he couldn’t stop. His grunts were now animalistic in nature, the chase for his release timeless.

You couldn’t tell how long the three of you were in that position, could only tell when they were both close and beginning to falter.

Frankie’s fingertips came to your stomach with a featherlight touch and you open your eyes to see his, irises so blown they were black. He pawed at your breast, squeezing a puffy nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your cunt holding closer to Santiago’s cock.

“We’re not gonna last much longer,” Frankie says.

You hum a response before he brings you down his cock and presses you into his belly, your throat constricts and he slides you back. He relaxes his hand on your breast and draws his hand up you décolletage, resting it at the bottom of your neck.

This is his tell.

He pumps you up and down his cock, noting the stutter in Santiago’s hips.

“Ready?”

Frankie puts his hand around your neck and applies light pressure before forcing your head down to the base of his cock. Every part of your body becomes tense, your walls trapping Santiago’s cock deep within you.

“Shit,” he chokes.

He comes thick and fast, his chin falling to his chest as he holds your hips up, his seed spilling messily out of you folds.

You whimper, your legs shaking as your orgasm washes over you.

Frankie felt your back beginning to lift from the table and he knows he’s got a fleeting moment to notch himself a little further. He squeezes your neck more, brings you closer and you feel him at the back of your throat. That immediate muscle spasm causes his cock to twitch and you suck as he groans.

The salty tang fills your mouth, Frankie’s grip loosening against the back of your head.

You slide back, milking his cock as much as you can before you removed him from your lips with an accompanying pop, a string of your saliva trailing.

He snapped to his senses and cupped your face in his hands, “I’m sorry, querida, are you ok?”

You look up at him with swollen lips and glossy doe eyes, fluttering your lashes, dumbfounded.

Santiago stroked your ankles then pulled himself out of you, the cum pooling onto the table. You body shudders from the lose and he presses a smile to your skin before lowering your legs to the table.

“I’ll get you some water.”

He knew you were cock drunk.

“Querida?”

Frankie brushed his nose to yours, teased the hair that clung to your forehead.

It was like you were under water, their voices were muffled and the scenery was swirling, light brighter from the refraction.

“I’m ok,” you mouth was drying out.

He kissed you softly, laying you back against the cooling wood.

“There’s some bottles out in the garage.”

Once you all made it to the bedroom, you were there for the night so Frankie saw it best to stock up. He took the full glass from Santiago, who continued to saunter around the house nude, his soft cock already beginning to harden.

“Are you serious, what is up with you?” Frankie gestured.

“Fuck you.”

He knew the other man would let him too.

Returning to you, Frankie helped ease you from the table, getting you to sit up straight. You took the water from him and chugged it down, he immediately got you another one.

Santiago came back into your view.

“Can we go somewhere a little more comfy?”

“Of course, honey,” he kissed your temple.

Your cunt clenched around nothing. Though you were loving the attention Frankie and Santiago were paying you, you prayed it would end soon just for your pussy's sake.

“D’you want me to carry you?”

Frankie’s fingertips grazed your hip, gently coaxing you to come with him. Your eyes flit down to his cock, his desire apparent, and he looks away sheepishly. A smile drew across your face as you entwined your fingers into his.

“If you don’t mind.”

Sure, the night wasn’t the quiet night in you expected but thank god Frankie and Santiago were there to alleviate you.

—

“Can’t sleep?”

Santiago sat in the glow of the television, volume low.

You shake your head.

He smiled, “Apparently you might be the only person who’s ever had a face full of Aphrodite’s Powder.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?”

He hummed in response.

You hadn’t moved from the nook in the hallway, your focus on playing with the sleeve of Frankie’s flannel shirt you wore, legs fidgety.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Frankie’s out cold and I’m… still itchy.”

Santiago put his phone down and beckoned for you to go over. You scuttle, legs aching and settle into his lap. He coils an arm around your frame, pressing a shoulder to his, your head resting against his temple. With his other hand, he drops two fingers to your clit and draws careful circles.

“I don’t have the energy to fuck you.”

“I know,” you kiss his salt and pepper hairline, “this will do just fine.”

Everything about the evening became a blur, they pushed you through one orgasm then another then another before you’re sure you blacked out. You wake up to the stillness of the house, the calm of the morning sun breaking through the kitchen window. The television had switched off on it’s own accord and Santiago was sleeping softly, his hand resting between your thighs.

Yes, this will do just fine, you thought, nestling back under his jaw.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie catfish morales #santiago garcia #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #kinktober

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shihlun · 2 years

Photo

Eric Rohmer

- Love in the Afternoon

1972

#eric rohmer #éric rohmer #love in the afternoon #chloe in the afternoon #l'amour l'après-midi #l'amour l'après midi #six moral tales #six contes moraux #french film #1972

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comicaurora · 9 months

Note

I feel like no tags or morning visibility reblogs is being good at this site. Nearly everyone whose username or icon I recognize from viral posts (and the people who have 5 million strangers trying to pick fights with them at all times because they're "popular") have absolutely no tags for anything other than extra nonsense that didn't go in the posts. And occasionally content warnings

tumblr's collective personality sometimes feels like a morality challenge from a saccharine and severely defanged 19th-century fairy tale retelling where the Good Daughter meanders into the woods and says "dopamine go brrr" and the cheerful woodsprites laugh like bells and whisper "posts that have 10K notes To Me" and "investing at 5 notes" and bless her such that pure clout will fall from her lips whene'er she speaks so then the Wicked Daughter storms into the woods with a perfectly curated queue with three guilt-trip calls to action per post and a lengthy diatribe prepared on why likes without reblogs are tantamount to spitting in her hair and the cheerful woodsprites impassively scroll past and then six hours later vaguepost about how much they dislike seeing a specific take that doesn't name any names but sounds suspiciously like her so the Wicked Daughter anonymously hits up their askbox to complain and for this she is cursed to be screenshotted and mocked in untagged anonymity for all eternity and also spit frogs or something

#asks #not aurora

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lostgoonie1980 · 2 years

Photo

214. A Padeira do Bairro (Six contes moraux 1: La boulangère de Monceau, 1963), dir. Éric Rohmer

0 notes

misshoneyimhome · 5 months

Note

So I’m thinking thoughts I shouldn’t be this early in the AM any whoooo, Will may be kinky and chill but tbh doesn’t really seem to me to be a boyfriend that would want to share you with someone - a rando threesome when he’s single yeah for sure - but you’re his human so he’d go feral seeing you with another dude YET I feel like maybe with Auston going through a bit of a slump he’s someone Will trusts and could be added to the equation for a boost in team morale ya know? 🫠

Oh, I'm well aware, babe! 😍 So, I've been thinking... and I've got an idea 🙈 I might even just have unlocked a threesome I didn't know I needed! Is it too much? Or not enough? Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it 😛

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Warnings; 18+ smut; threesome, Boyfriend!Willy x Reader x bestfriend!Auston; fingering; oral sex (f and m recieving), unprotected sex (p in v); i think that's about it

Word count: 3K

Lifting Spirits

William never once imagined finding himself in this situation – here, in his own bed, alongside you and one of his closest friends. The three of you were nearly completely unclothed, and it was clear to everyone what was about to happen.

The whole situation began around six months ago when William had started noticing the subtle hints, where there were those shared glances loaded with unspoken desire between you and Auston.

Your connection with Auston had always been special, and it would have been naive to deny the chemistry. However, despite the great rapport and banter, your feelings towards him were purely platonic. He was a fantastic friend, someone funny and wonderful, but you never harboured any romantic feelings for him.

William was your boyfriend, and your love for him was unwavering. And every day, you made sure he felt that love and devotion.

Even though William had previously been quite the charmer with the ladies, everything had changed when he met you. You walked right into his heart, and he never wished for it to be any other way.

You were his everything, and although he had never been one to believe in such fairy tale notions, you had made him believe in the concept of a true soulmate.

Therefore, the playful banter between you and Auston didn't faze him much. He had complete trust in you, knowing deep down to his core that you were his and his alone.

Yet recently, there had been a noticeable shift in dynamics, not necessarily in a romantic manner, but a slight blossoming in the bond between you and William's teammate seemed to be emerging.

And this transformation might have been linked to Auston going through a rough patch. Despite his strong start with three impressive hatties, he hit a slump, affecting both his streak and overall performance. And it took a toll on him.

You had of course tried to support your friend, offering a comforting presence and a listening ear, however, it felt like something more was lacking.

To Auston, you held a unique place – not just a friend, potential girlfriend, or sibling figure, but as someone he could confide in openly without any reservation. Either you’d always have a quick wit or a comforting response ready at hand.

And while he understood that your heart belonged to William, he couldn't deny finding you incredibly attractive. Your radiant smile, captivating eyes, and infectious laughter held a magnetic charm for him. But he would never jeopardize your friendship or put you in a position to choose. It wasn't even a consideration. He knew he'd never be the one chosen, and strangely, he was completely ok with that.

So, during this period when his hockey skills weren't at their peak, Auston found himself turning to you once more. However, this time, he confessed that perhaps he needed more than just a friend to talk to. He longed for a connection similar to what you and William shared.

You had initially suggested to Auston to find a casual hook-up to lift his spirits, but it seemed that solution didn't quite fit the bill.

And after spending a few hours with Auston and unable to uplift his mood, you came home and turned to William to discuss his friend's situation. As teammates, everyone's psychological state could significantly impact others, and it was evident that Auston's struggles were affecting the team.

"I don’t know what to do, Willy," you shared while lounging on the sofa with your boyfriend. "He's really not himself... I might not be a hockey expert, but it looks like he's lost his touch."

William nodded in agreement. Auston's struggle wasn't just during games; it extended to training sessions and work outs, and his usual upbeat mood seemed to be notably absent.

"Hmm, maybe we should find a way to cheer him up," William suggested, a hint of concern in his voice.

"I suggested the same, but he's not keen on meeting anyone, especially not hooking up with strangers," you replied, offering a gentle smile as both of you brainstormed ideas.

But then after a few moments of contemplation, William's thoughts drifted to a suggestion he never thought he'd consider. And he tentatively began, "Well, um... there might be something."

He remembered a moment during the off-season when some of the guys had gathered for some quality time and a casual chat on a late summer evening. Mitch had suggested playing a round of truth or dare, a typical scenario among the players.

Then the conversation turned to Auston, who opted for truth. The question posed was nothing extraordinary for such conversations, but it stirred the summer air into a sudden hush. Everyone was curious to hear the answer from the single forwarder.

"If you had to have a threesome with a teammate and their partner, who would it be?"

The query hung in the air, and while it might have been a standard 'guy talk', it brought an unexpected moment of silence among the lads.

"Well, I think I'd go with my man Willy and y/n," Auston had chuckled. It wasn't much of a surprise to anyone. William knew Auston had an interest in you and had shared a few thoughts about you in the early days, before your relationship with William became serious.

Back on the sofa, William pondered whether he should bring it up, deciding to do so, partly to see your reaction.

"You know, Aus might not feel up to being with any random girl, but..." He paused briefly, clearing his throat before continuing, "I know he'd want to be with you..."

You glanced at William, a puzzled expression on your face. Did he just suggest that you sleep with Auston?

"Willy... you mean, like... I should sleep with him?" you asked, seeking clarification.

William chuckled slightly. "Well, maybe not just the two of you, I'd be there too."

You weren't entirely sure if he was serious, but there was a sincerity in his tone that made you consider his words. The attraction towards the Scottsdale lad had crossed your mind, but the idea of actually sleeping with him was something you hadn't entertained before.

"Is that something you'd really want?" you asked gently, observing William's expression for any signs of insincerity, yet finding none.

"Sure, I mean, I don't like the idea of sharing you with anyone, but if I had to, it would be Auston. I know there's an attraction between you two, and he's drawn to you – but I also trust him, and you know I trust you with anything..." William explained, a hint of a smile on his lips, his eyes conveying honesty.

Your lips curved into a smile as you searched his eyes for any hint of falsehood, yet again finding none.

You genuinely believed that this was something he also desired, an offering to his friend, yet you knew William would still want to maintain control.

Your sex life with William had never been boring. And while he had experienced a threesome or two in his single days, and although you had considered it, both of you hadn't ventured into that territory together.

Being his girlfriend, William was particular about whom he'd involve, trusting someone completely because he wasn't comfortable with the idea of others touching you. However, Auston was an exception.

"Okay," you spoke softly, surprising your boyfriend slightly. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to do it."

"Yeah... I'm good with it. Besides, I do think it might be hot," he murmured, leaning in towards you, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, his hands encircling your body. "You'd look incredibly sexy."

The mere thought of being entangled with both William and Auston set your mind racing, and without hesitation, you pulled William into a passionate and intense kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair.

In this moment, there you were, nestled between your boyfriend and Auston without a barrier, all three positioned on your knees on the bed. Auston faced you while William was behind you, and their bare torsos pressed against your skin, their hands exploring your body cautiously, ensuring they didn't accidentally touch each other.

William gently swept your hair to one side, planting soft kisses on the nape of your neck, occasionally nibbling lightly before trailing down to your shoulder blade. Meanwhile, Auston engaged in kissing you passionately, his tongue intertwining with yours.

Naturally, before diving into action, the three of you had had a conversation about boundaries and limitations. Although William was open to sharing you with Auston, his teammate's eagerness to join in swiftly prompted him to establish clear ground rules.

it was ok for Auston to kiss you on your lips, with tongue.

He could eat you out as much as he’d like.

And you could suck his dick and he was even allowed to come in your mouth if you were ok with it.

He had to make you come before himself.

He wasn’t allowed to bite or mark you in any way.

And finally, he could fuck you in your cunt, if he wore a condom or made damn sure to pull out and not come inside you.

William didn’t like to share that much if you with him. He was the only one who could come inside you. Surely you were on birth control so no danger there but filling you with his cum was just something else.

As you moved your mouth in sync with Auston's, sharing saliva, your hands sought a place to settle. His chest felt suitable, while he held your face and William gripped your hips.

The three of you shifted gently, switching positions, when you broke away from Auston to turn and kiss William, and Auston focused on the other side of your neck.

It was a bit chaotic and disorganised, yet undeniably pleasurable. The room filled with warmth, sweat, and a mix of raw desire and sexual tension.

Amidst the kissing, William's hand found its way down to your most sensitive spot, delicately rubbing your clit, and your kiss with him broke, as you released a soft moan from your lips. Auston eased back a little too, his hand joining William's but travelling further, slowly inserting two fingers with ease inside you. They were slightly rougher compared to William's touch, yet similarly substantial, akin to how you'd imagined his cock might be.

Their eyes were fixed intensely on your face as you leaned back against your boyfriend for support, relishing in the pleasure they were giving you. You could sense William's hard member against your lower back, prompting you to glance down and notice Auston's erection, restrained in his boxers.

"Shit, she's so wet," Auston murmured as his fingers glided in and out of your warmth, already coated with your juices. "And fucking tight. I can't wait to be inside her."

The sheen of sweat adorned your bodies as the temperature rose between you all.

"Remember the rule, Tony," William spoke softly, sensing your trembling against him. "Her pleasure comes first."

Auston nodded, continuing his gentle movements with his fingers, while William persisted in stimulating your sensitive spot. And you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to reach climax; you’d already been all riled up before anything had even begun.

"Then allow me to taste her," Auston proposed, and William simply nodded, both men tenderly withdrawing from your body.

Sensing a void within, you offered the boys a pleasant smile before they guided you to lie back on the bed, your head resting against the pillows.

William lounged beside you, planting tender kisses, while Auston settled onto his knees at the edge of the bed, leaning forward to come close to your heat with his mouth.

And as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, his gentle licks between your folds elicited a louder moan from you, causing you to close your eyes and grasp onto the nearby sheets.

William's intense gaze remained fixed on you as he softly pleasured himself, occasionally glancing at his friend's attentiveness between your legs. "Good girl," he murmured, noticing how much you relished Auston's ministrations. "Show Auston how good you can be for him," William whispered softly.

This experience brought more enjoyment than he had anticipated. Watching his friend satisfy his girlfriend while still retaining control, being able to signal when to proceed or halt, was a thrill for him.

Your moans echoed like a sweet music to him, growing louder as Auston continued his work on your cunt. He licked, sucked, poking your entrance with his tongue, and you found yourself becoming as mess for him. Sensing your impending climax, you surrendered to the mattress, as your heavy breaths escaping your lungs.

"Oh, Auston, yes… I'm… I'm coming."

With his nose subtly nudging your clit and his skilled tongue at work, you released a loud relief, arching your back as the rush of orgasm overwhelmed you.

"Fuck," you breathed heavily, gradually easing down from the intense peak.

Auston, wearing a smirk, withdrew from pleasuring you and stood to remove his boxers, revealing his proud cock. And leaning on your elbows, you shared a kiss with William, silently expressing gratitude for the experience, before offering him your best puppy eyes.

"Darling, let me taste you," you whispered softly.

With a satisfied smirk, William nodded gently, rising from his relaxed position to kneel on the pillows, facing you and Auston.

"On your hands and knees, babe," he softly commanded, and you eagerly complied.

Understanding the unspoken cue, Auston returned to kneel behind you, aligning the tip of his member with your entrance and resting his hands on your hips. Gently pushing inside, you released a deep gasp as his considerable length filled you.

"Shit, she's tight," Auston exhaled, feeling your inner walls enveloping him. And his cock matched your imagination: thick and lengthy, akin to William's, and incredibly pleasurable.

"I know, she's such a good girl,” William praised you, softly running his fingers through your hair, his own cock eagerly awaiting your mouth.

And as Auston gradually began moving his hips behind you, stimulating your inner walls, you glanced up at your boyfriend and opened your mouth, inviting him to enter.

William licked his lips as his erection met yours, inviting him into your warm mouth, skilfully manoeuvring your tongue to explore every inch of him.

Leaning back slightly, William released a moan as you pleasured him with your mouth, while Auston continued to hit you deeply, making you drip with juices.

And with a bit more coordination, the three of you established a good rhythm. Auston thrusting into you, while William rocked his hips, allowing you to take him deeper into your throat. As you breathed steadily through your nose, you let saliva cascade down his shaft, having almost teary-eyed from the overwhelming pleasure.

William's fingers entwined in your hair, anchoring you in place as your entire body moved along with Auston's rhythm.

"I'm getting close," Auston softly warned, prompting William to halt and look down at you.

"Take good care of him," he commanded once more, withdrawing his member from your mouth and shifting from his position.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you refilled your lungs with air before Auston repositioned himself in front of you. Your hungry gaze met his, then lowered to his erection, causing you to instinctively lick your lips.

With a satisfied grin, Auston guided himself between your eager lips, emitting a moan as you took him in fully, coming to taste yourself.

"Fuck," he exclaimed.

"Oh, and just so you know, she's amazing at that," William chuckled lightly, positioning himself behind you and reconstructing the previous formation before entering you again.

Swiftly settling into a steady rhythm once more, Auston quickly neared his climax. His breaths grew erratic, his eyes closing shut.

"Yes, y/n, I'm gonna come," his husky voice announced, followed by a groan as he released his load into your mouth.

And as William continued thrusting into you, you eagerly swallowed all of Auston's release, ensuring he was thoroughly cleaned up. Yet, it didn't take much longer for you to declare your own impending climax.

"Willy, I'm coming," you gasped, your legs trembling as you tightened around him, letting yourself go to a second orgasm.

William skilfully maintained the pace through the intensity, but your tightness pushed him close to the edge as well.

Swiftly withdrawing, he flipped you onto your back, securing your legs around his hips as he entered again in missionary style—a position he adored, allowing him to be close to you, exert himself fully, and reinforce the feeling that you belonged with him.

"I'm almost there," he moaned against the curve of your neck as your harmonious moans filled the air.

"Come for me, baby," you urged, and with just a few more thrusts, William released into your depths, his panting echoing the intensity of the moment.

The experience had been incredibly intense. And lounging beside you, Auston couldn't help but beam with satisfaction.

It had been beyond his wildest imaginations of the chance to be with you like this.

Glancing up, William tenderly withdrew and settled on your other side, allowing the mixture of your fluids to trickle gently from your core.

Smiles lit up your faces, the aftermath leaving you all euphoric, as you turned to Auston, unable to suppress a smile.

"I hope this lifted your spirits a bit, love.”

"Absolutely," he replied, still catching his breath.

"Good," you simply smiled.

Then after spending a couple of hours cuddling and unwinding, Auston bid farewell, leaving just you and William in the condo, and your boyfriend wore a serene smile as he joined you in bed after a post-sex shower.

"Hey," he spoke softly. "I love you, you know that, right?"

You nodded, matching his gentle smile.

"And about what went down with Auston... I'm happy we did it for him, and I just really hope you enjoyed it."

Your eyes met in a tender exchange as you responded gently.

"Darling, it was truly incredible..." you expressed softly, pressing your lips lightly together. "But if it's okay with you, I'm more than happy being just us two."

William couldn't resist smiling at your endearing nature and simply nodded.

"Don't worry, babe. I prefer it like that anyway.”

#my asks #18+#nhl smut #william nylander imagine #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #wn88 imagine

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