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tenpintsof-sundrop · 2 months

Note

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

657 notes · View notes

mysicklove · 8 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

DAY 1 : PET PLAY

With: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: sub! izuku and katsuki, gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames

A/N: hi guys!! welcome to day 1!! fun fact, this randomly got posted in the middle of the night some random day in september. fuck tumblr que, idk what happened. but here we are LOL

You'll never get used to it. Having two pro-heros as your dogs. Kneeling at your feet, only in their boxers, silently waiting for their owners command. It was a dopamine rush every time the three of you went into this headspace.

They both had on their designated personally designed collars. The sweet one had a red leather one, that complimented his pleading green eyes perfectly. The brat wore a light pink sparkly collar. He had fumed the first time he saw it, yelling at you to fuck off and refusing to put it on. But after you put a muzzle on him the rest of the night, he shut his mouth. He still gets pissed when you clip it on him, but instead grumbles to himself, not wanting to risk the horrible metal muzzle. Besides, he knows you only do it to get a rise out of him. So on most nights you gave him his usual black spiked collar. Obviously tonight you were feeling more teasing.

The muzzle and a gag lay next to you in case either of them decide to act out. Izuku of course wouldnt ever dare to purposely disobey in this mental state. But he had a huge problem of talking. Dogs arent supposed to talk, so next to you lays a cartoon bone shaped gag, waiting to be put into Izukus mouth.

Tonight the two of them were leashed together, a pretty but simple black leash divided into two different clips. Their section was small, so the two of them were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder with one another to prevent pulling at the leather.

They also wore their puppy ear headbands, just because you were feeling special today. Izuku has green floppy ears, and Katsuki, blonde pointy ones. You also had tails designed for them, but that would involve some…prepping. So the collars, ears, and leash were enough for today.

You sit on the bed, crossed legs, with you wrapped around the end of the leash. You give it a hesitant tug and the two of them collapse forward, Izuku with a small whine and Katsuki with a glare, immediately bringing himself back onto his knees, pulling Izuku with him.

You reach forward to pat the both of them on the head. Izuku preens, looking down with clenched fist and a blushing smile. Katsuki looks away with a huff, but you know thats the best you'll get out of him.

“Look at my boys,” You coo, “You guys are so precious.” You gently pull the leash upward so that the two of them are forced to look up at you.

Izuku beams at you, feeling himself buzz from the praise. “Thank you, Y/N! I want to be good for you today! Even Kacchan says he does too–” You give him a sickly sweet smile, nodding your head and humming at him. He is completely unaware of you trailing your hand toward the gag, waiting for him to finish his rambling so you can shove it on him.

Katsuki’s eyes flicker to your hands immediately and his eyes widen. It doesn't take much for him to realize his situation. The two of them are tied together. That definitely means something, and Izuku hasn't seemed to realize it yet.

The two of them were in this together. If Izuku gets punished, the chances of the metal muzzle coming on are high. “We will be your good-”

Katsuki flings his hand over the others mouth, the force of it pushing Izuku over. The blonde topples forward with him, from the short binding leather. Izuku lands on his back and Katsuki lands on top of him with a groan.

You laugh hysterically and the boys both flush in embarrassment, making eye contact with eachother. Katsuki quickly pulls himself up and Izuku is forced to follow – not that he minded. They sit back on their knees both red in the face, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to look at eachother.

You pat the blondes hair, and he gulps. “Good boy, Katsuki! Poor Izu almost got gagged, that would be too bad, right puppy?” You smile, turning your gaze to the freckled boy who is nodding his head frantically, hating the gag as much as Katsuki hates the muzzle. It makes his jaw hurt, and the drool is humiliating.

You continue to run your fingers through Katsukis hair as a reward and he unconscioully leans into the touch, still unused to the praise. “I guess we don't need a muzzle today either!” Red eyes widen and he tries not to seem to excited at the thought. He gulps, and looks away, clenching at the thin fabric that fails to cover his leaking cock. You chuckle at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. Izukus eyes flicker to you, clutching his fist to hide his obvious jealousy of the affection.

“What should I do with the two of you?” You hum, admiring the leash in your hand. The boys gulp, and Izuku wants nothing more than to speak, so he bites his tongue to keep himself silent. Katsuki grows weary, wondering what type of mood you were in today.

“Should I make the two of you fuck eachother?” Izuku whines, leaning forward to rest his head on your knee, to wordlessly show his disapproval. You chuckle and bring your hand to his curly green hair, and notice that Katsuki is scowling at you, having the same view.

You know they prefer it when you are involved. They always complain its not as fun without you, and besides who would give them orders? What will two dogs do without a owner to command them?

“Alright, I've got an idea.” They peer up at you, Izuku still in your lap. “We are going to do some training!” They both flinch, eyes flickering to each other in a silent agreement. This will most likely be something not so pleasant. “I was thinking we try some obedience exercises? C'mere get on the bed you two.”

Katsuki begins to stand and you yank the leash forward, causing the both of them to fall over, foreheads resting next to the carpet. “I don't remember dogs standing.” The blonde fumes, trying not to yell at you. He hates being dragged around.

Izuku paws at the edge of the bed, glancing back at Katsuki to follow. He rolls his eyes with a grumble, but follows behind, on his hands and knees as well. Izuku sits so close to you, that he is practically in your lap. He seems to be vibrating with excitement, hoping you will be kind to him today. You rub his cheek, and he beams for you, nuzzling into your hand.

Katsuki, dramatically, sits as far away as he can, which isnt far due to the leash attached to Izuku. You smile at him at he gulps. “C'mere Kats,” You say, patting your lap.

He nods hesitantly, and climbs into your lap, looking away when you kiss his cheek. Izuku lets out a small whine and rests his hand on your thigh, obviously jealous of the positioning. “We are gonna play a little game.” Red eyes catch yours. “I am going to give out an order and the both of you are to follow them. Easy right?”

Katsuki pauses for a second. Following commands was what he struggled with the most. His pride always got the better of him. He gulps, but nods.

Izuku on the other hand, is nodding his head with a grin. This was easy for him, and he was always happy to please you. Just a couple of orders and then you will get to touch him. He could do that with his eyes closed.

“Good boys! Now paw.” You set the leash down and hold out both of your hands flat. Izuku rests his hand in yours in an instant, leaning in closer to hopefully get praised. Katsuki glances at you, and then the hand, and silently places his open hand on yours. He looks away while doing it, slightly embarrassed.

“Good job Katsuki!” You praise, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He grumbles under his breath, but the tips of his ears go pink. Izuku leans forward and waits for you to kiss his own cheek, but you don't make an effort to look at him. He whines for it, and you glance at him, a malicious smile on your face. “Dont be spoiled Izuku,” You coo, pickingup the leash and gently pulling on it, causing the both of them to lean closer.

Izuku slightly pouts, but nods. Katsuki feels uneasy; Izuku always gets praised. Something was going on.

“Alright. Now kiss.” In an instant Izuku is pouncing on the other, and Katsuki topples over at the force of the movement. He lets out an annoyed groan when Izuku's lips lock desperately with his. Izuku on the other hand is moaning into it, slightly dramaticizing the sound to hopefully coax something out of you.

You sit and watch, trying to not laugh at how different the two are in this situation. Izuku seems to be suffocating Katsuki with his tongue, while the blonde is pushing on his chest to force him off. “Alright, enough,” You command, and just like that, Izuku is pulling away, grabbing Katsuki by his collar, and pulling him up with him.

Izuku this time crawls into your lap, practically purring from how content he feels in the position. But to his dismay, you shoo him off, pushing at his chest with a stern glare. “Did I say you can sit there, dog?”

He gulps, hands trembling, and surprised at your tone. Not only that, but you called him, dog. Not puppy, or sweet boy, his usual nicknames that you give him. Did he do something bad?

Katsuki glances at him, kinda feeling a bit bad for him, but not bad enough to say anything. He feels your hand grab at his collar, and force him forward until he is in your lap again, your hand petting his hair. He peesr back at Izuku who was dragged forward, and looking up at Katsuki with hurt eyes. Jealousy, most likely, and maybe confusion of why the blonde gets to sit there and not him.

“Speak, Puppy,” You demand, tapping on Katsukis jaw.

Izuku makes a frantic woofing noise, loud enough that your eyes trail to him. The scarred hand is back on your thigh, and big green eyes peer up at you. Your facial expression doesn't change, but your words cut him like ice. “I didn't ask you to bark, mutt.” You turn back to Katsuki, ignoring the pleading stare from your right. “Speak, Katsuki.”

Bakugou pauses, his face flushed in embarrassment. This is where things got tricky. He would rather die than do something so humiliating. It was one thing to put the ears on and “look” like a dog, but to act like one is some sort of degrading thing. His pride would never let him do something as pathetic as that.

He scowls at his hands, avoiding the burning gaze on the back of his neck. You hum at him, grabbing his chin, and forcing him to look at you. “Katsukiiii,” You purr, hoping to encourage him.

He shakes his head, huffing out, and ignoring your words. The force of your hands on his jaw gets rougher, and the blonde knows you are beginning to lose patience. He can see Izuku begin to squirm uncomfortably, waiting for him.

Your eyes peer into his, and your words come out slow, every syllable seeming to have a command behind it. “C’mon puppy,” You murmur, “bark for me.”

A couple seconds go by and he doesn't make a noise. You sigh and let go of his chin. “Well, I guess nobody gets to cum tonight. How sad, I was so excited to play with you guys.”

Izuku grabs onto Katsuki frantically, eyes wide and pleading. He has been waiting for this all week, no way was he willing to give it up for his childhood friend's pride. They were being treated like dogs for god sake, the first step was giving up your ego for pleasure.

The blonde glares at Izuku, but then glances at you, who is beginning to reach forward and take off his collar. You were being serious, and that fact sent shivers down his spine.

“W-Woof?”

It's quiet, meek and nervous. Izuku covers his mouth to hold back a giggle, watching the other turn a bright shade of pink. “Louder,” You encourage, resting your head in the palm of your hand, growing more and more entertained by the second.

“Woof. Woof,” He tries, but it sounds more robotic, than dog like. He grips at his boxers, and can feel tears of humiliation prick at his eyes.

“Relax, Kats. What do dogs sound like?” You whisper, petting his head, and trying to hold back a coo, because of how tense he looks.

Izuku inches forward to the blonde, nodding at him when the two make eye contact. Katsuki gulps, and takes a deep breath. “Arf! Woof! Woof! Ruff?”

You begin to laugh, and Katsuki wants to curl up in a ball and die. He feels Izuku's hand on hisback, patting it encouragingly, but he doesn't have enough energy to bite back at him. So he lets the green haired boy continue, waiting for your giggling to stop.

You pull at the leash, and the two come forward, looking at you. You dont spare Izuku a glance, focusing solely on Katsuki. “Good boy! You did so well for me!” You praise, giving him a peck on his mouth and ruffling his hair affectionately.

He tries not to let the praise get to him, but the tint of his cheeks say otherwise. “F-Fuck you,” Katsuki mumbles, gripping at your thigh.

Izuku's eyes widen at the spoken words, and his eyes immediately flicker to the gag and muzzle. He also grabs onto your leg, hoping you wont use them. “Ah ah ah,” You tutt, “You know puppies dont speak. I'll forgive it just this once since you are doing so good for me.”

He nods, trying not to roll his eyes. “Now, lets get to the fun stuff. Katsuki definitely deserves a reward for passing his training! Right, Izuku?”

Whenever this is going, Izuku seems to not be involved. He gives you a sheepish glance, clinging closer to you. He was listening to, why isn't he getting a reward? And it didn't make sense, why were you calling him a mutt and dog, just previous to this. Katsuki was the one to get the harsh treatment by you due to his bratty nature, but Izuku didn't do anything wrong.

Red eyes meet green, and Izuku pauses. Then he sighs, and turns to you, nodding meekly. You barely look at him, but smile. “Now, lets get these off of you sweet boy,” You murmur, grabbing onto his boxers and beginning to pull them down. Katsukis eyes slightly widen, but he allows you to, jumping when the cool air kisses his skin.

Izuku stares from the spot behind the two. Watching the way Bakugou's boxers get tossed aside, and how your hand moves onto his thigh. But the only thought that was repeating in his head, was the name you called him. Sweet boy.

It was his. You have never called Katsuki that, because Katsuki isn't sweet. He isn't the docile and obedient one, the sweet one. Why are you calling Katsuki by his named? It didn't make any sense, and Izuku felt himself bite the inside of his cheek.

“Cmon, show Izuku your pretty cock, Katsuki,” You tease, turning him around in your lap, so that his back is touching your chest. The two of them make eye contact, and Katsuki is the first to fume red, hiding his face into your neck while his cock stands proudly on display. Izuku whines, feeling his own pulse against the thin fabric of his briefs.

Your hands travel to Katsukis dick, forming a makeshift hole, and beginning to stroke it up and down. “Lets test how trained you are Izuku.” He perks up at his name, practically vibrating that you finally acknowledged him. “No touching yourself till Katsuki cums. Easy right?” He pauses, frowning slightly. This is what he struggled with the most. How needy he gets.

It's not his fault, but the second he gets into bed with you or Katsuki, he just gets…excited. Constantly thinking about how quickly he can cum, and how many times he can go without falling asleep. His sex drive was high, although he gets too embarrassed to admit it. But you know him well enough by now.

“If you don't, the two of you dont get to cum for two weeks.”

Two pairs of eyes snap toward you in an instant. A threat like that would practically kill Izuku, and Katsuki also was not in favor of waiting that long. The two of them make a silent agreement, and Izuku slowly places his hands behind his back, clasping them together and waiting. If they dont stray from this position, it will be fine.

You grin at him, but then focus your attention on Katsuki. You open his thighs, slapping him gently when he tries to close them from embarrassment, to give Izuku a full view. One of your hand finds his nipples, and the other wraps around his cock.

Izuku stares at your slow, sensual movements. The way your hand pumps Bakugou, and the way the blonde lets out a shaky breath. He is still tense under Izuku's view, but Izuku assumed he would be. Katsuki got nervous being watched, and you liked to exploit that. You always teased him about how cute he was, even when the blonde scowled at you with a pink face.

Even now, Katsuki seemed to have a pinched brow. He glances at Midoriya, baring his teeth slightly, and then looking away. He probably didn't like how vulnerable he was right now. The only one naked, and getting touched.

Izuku would kill to be in his position.

“There you go. Feeling better now, puppy?” You coo, pressing light kisses onto his neck. He seems to melt at the sweet words, hating how easy it was you to make his heartbeat to pick up. He nods slightly, and finally falls slump against your chest, trying his best to ignore Izuku's ruthless stare.

Your hand rubs over the head, thumbing at the slit, and then moves back down to pump him some more. Your other hand cups his balls, and begins to fondle them gently. His breath begins to pick up from the intense feelings, and his hips begin to rock into your hand. Katsuki’s eyes fall shut, and he rests the back of his head on your shoulder, slightiy tilting his head upward.

And as Katsuki finally begins to relax, Izuku finds himself growing uneasy. He gulps, and glances at his briefs, sighing when he sees the dampening spot from where his cock lay. He was too hard, and the boxers were making him uncomfortable. He wants them off.

But he is not willing to risk it. So he plays with his hands behind his back, and shutters whenever he hears Katsuki moan out. He inches closer to the two of you, just until his knee touches the blondes upper leg.

A drop of pre leaks from the blondes tip, and both Izuku and Katsuki make a noise. Katsuki a groan, and Izuku, a pained whine. He was unbelievably jealous, and every cell in his body screamed at him to touch himself. Make the pain go away. Bakugou gets to feel good, why cant he?

“F-Fuckkkk,” Katsuki groans out, and you laugh, and then tilt his head to to the side, and press your lips onto his. Izuku makes a choked yelp, eyes widening and hands coming undone to grip at your shirt. It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair. His cock was weeping by now, begging for any sort of touch, and it hurt.

But you didn't care, and the sloppy noises of you are Bakugou's lips together made him let out a shaky, hurt breath. Katsuki grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your closer, and opening his mouth to slip his tongue in yours. The hand hasn't stopped its motions and Izuku can hear the slight whimpers the blonde unconsciously lets out. The whimpers that go straight to his trapped dick.

Izuku glances at you, and then his black briefs. You weren't looking, obviously very much distracted with Katsuki, and he could easily touch himself without you knowing. Just a graze of his palm, thats all he needed. Something to ease the intense discomfort. His hand inches from hid thigh, and closer to his cock.

But you seemed to read his mind, pulling away slightly, and peering back at him. Katsuki is panting, and moaning into your neck, while your eyes glance at the scarred hand. “Whatcha doing, mutt? Can't go a couple minutes without touching yourself? You are acting more like a bitch in heat, than a puppy. Isn't that right, Kats?”

Katsuki doesn't really seemed to care, just nodding slightly and bucking his hips into your closed palm. He was only thinking about his own pleasure, but he agrees anyways with a low groan.

Izukus eyes widen and he pulls his hand away in an instant, tears welling up from frustration and your words. He shakes his hand frantically, leaning in closer to hopefully convey how desperate he was. He didn't touch himself; he listened to you.

“No. Keep your hand there, dog,” You scold, and Izuku nods quickly, scrambling to place his hand back onto his thigh. Inches away from his dick.

You nod, and then suddenly, without letting either of the boys know, push Katsuki onto Izuku. Not hard, just enough for the blonde to balance either arms on Izuku's shoulders. His frame casts a shadow on the freckled boy, and he looks up to see Katsukis flushed appearance staring down at him. His ruby eyes are widen slightly in shock, but his mouth is open, and he is panting.

But the worst thing about it all, was that Katsuki's bare cock was meerly inches from his. Your hand remains wrapped around it, and once situated, begins to pump again. It sends Katsuki groaning, and resting his head on Izuku's neck.

Izuku's hand twitches, and he bucks his hips up into the air, just centimeters from touching Katsuki. He feels a drop of pre hit his thigh, and he whimpers, closing his eyes to pretend it doesn't exist. It's not fair. Its not fair. Its not fair.

“Open your eyes Izuku. Look at how pretty Katsuki looks.”

He shakily nods, and tears begin to drip down his face. This was mean. Jacking Katsuki off basically inches away from his own throbbing cock. Izuku didnt deserve this. He knows he didnt deserve this.

He feels Katsukis hot breath on his neck, and he shivers. Green eyes dont leave the lewd sight in front of him, and he feels like he is going insane. His hands begins inches his way toward his bulge, and he gulps, shivering when it comes closer and closer to the spot that will make all the pain go away.

Katsuki, takes notice to this quickly, and pins the hand to his thigh before he could reach it. “Dont you fucking dare,” he hisses into Izukus ear, quite enough so that you dont hear. Red eyes glare up at him, and Izuku looks away.

He feels angry at Katsuki’s words. How mean he was being, when he was getting all the praise and touch. They are supposed to share you, how was this fair? “You don't understand what I'm going through,” Izuku mumbles back, his tearful eyes glaring at him.

“I fucking–” You cover his mouth before he could say anything. Katsukis lidded eyes sneer at him, but they seem to roll back when you thumb at his tip.

“Are you two fighting?” You question, gently squeezing the head a little too hard in warning. Katsuki lets out a whimper, and the both shake their heads frantically, slightly panicked on what you would do if you found out.

You hum, and continue your movements. The blonde sighs out, and you release your hold on his mouth. But, his hand continues to stay on top of Izuku’s, not letting him move.

Midoriya's hand twitches from beneath his, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels your hand on his leg. His eyes widen, and he shivers under the lightness of your touch. It barely grazes the surface, and it sends a lightly ticklish feeling up his spine. It was moving closer to his bulge, an obvious tease, and Izuku feels himself begin to pant. He wants to touch himself so badly. Tears continue to fall down, and he screws his eyes shut with a sniffle.

Katsuki on the other hand, seems to be in heaven. He has a slight grin on his face, and he's moaning out with every stroke. He is approaching his high in a matter of seconds. You take notice to the way his body begins to jerk, and the slight higher pitch in his moans. “Do you want to cum, Katsuki?”

He nods his head slowly, breathing into the crook of Izuku's neck, while the other trembles. “Then beg.”

He sighs, but then immediately begins his frantic words. “I need–” You send a slap to his thigh, and he yelps, turning back to you and scowling.

“Don't be a brat. Beg like a dog,” You scold, tone fierce toward him for the first time tonight. It surprises him, and your eyes travel down toward the leash, threatening to grab it if he doesn't abide.

But Bakugou was already at his limits. He was going to cum any minute now, so he doesn't care about his pride any longer. Tears begin to coat his own eyes, and he flushes with embarrassment. “Woof! Arf! Arf! Woof!! P-Please!”

A tear drop lands on Izuku's face, and his whole body tenses. Katsuki looked…so pretty like this. He needs to readjust his pants, he needs to take off some of the weight. He feels tight, sticky from the amount of pre trapped in the fabric with him. And the noises Katsuki is making, makes his head spin, and sweat bead at his temples.

“Of course Katsuki, good puppy, you can cum all you want.”

You grab onto his cock, and give it a couple more pumps, before directing it toward Izuku's crotch. Within seconds of your premission, Bakugou buries his teeth into Izuku's neck, and moans. Its loud, but muffled by the skin. His whole body trembles, and cum flies out and lands on top of Izuku’s boxers.

Midoriya heaves, eyes widening as he watches Katsuki. He shivers at the feeling of teeth in his neck, and holds back a cry. He feels a dampening feeling land on his clothed cock, and doesnt have to do much guessing what it is.

He glances at the pool of cum stuck on his boxers, and then back to you, and finally breaks down and sobs. “Please touch me! Woof! Woof! I cant–Arf! I'm going insane, owner, owner please please please!” He rambles, voice raw from his cries.. He continues to bark, mewl, make any sound to voice his desperation.

Katsuki comes down from his high when Izuku starts hiccuping. His mind is blank, but the sounds Izuku was making was pitiful, and it bugged him. He glances at you, and you nod. He slowly pulls away from the boy, and sits down next to him. He is exhausted, but very much content, basking in the post orgasm glow.

Then, you move toward Izuku, kissing his cheek while he sobs and pinches the skin of his thighs, probably trying to stop the urge from touching himself. You pet his head, stroking the fake ears, and run your finger under his collar. Then, you grab his hands and pull them away before he could hurt himself. He peers up at you, and sniffles, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears. “Did so well, sweet boy. I'm sorry, that was mean of me wasnt it? Do you want to cum?”

He lets out a meek, “Woof,” and cries into your neck, every part of his body shaking. He nods, and tears begin to stain your shirt. Even through it all, he played the role till the very end.

Your hand travels to the bulge, and he doesn't even get a moment to process it before he is cumming. His body shakes with tremors and he screams into your neck. Katsuki watches with wide eyes as Izuku stains his pants.

It's like you knew this was going to happen. You play with his hair and coo at him, and then turn to motion Katsuki forward. He stares at the trembling boy, but abides, resting his hands on your thigh. Izuku slumps onto you, hiccuping from his sobs, but finally looking content. He buries his face into your neck, practically wagging his tail.

You pat the both of them on the head. “Good job, my adorable little puppies. Now was that so hard?”

They both look up at you, and give you the most pathetic but meaningful glare two dogs could give you.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

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missmonsters2 · 10 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life.

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it.

This was all Steve's fault.

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar.

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway.

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess.

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together.

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for.

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself.

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well.

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts.

"What?"

"Bug—"

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though."

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about.

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did.

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly.

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it.

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her.

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them.

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type.

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to.

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little.

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career.

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her.

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason.

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head.

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning.

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat.

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her.

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her.

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying.

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone.

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs.

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for.

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it.

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup.

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear.

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders.

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain.

It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way.

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers.

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed.

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits.

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap.

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm.

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him.

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship.

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it.

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together.

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight.

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision.

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda.

And you look interested.

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you.

But that just makes everything so much more confusing.

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend.

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself.

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something.

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is.

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer.

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information.

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

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The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic.

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset.

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy.

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly.

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you.

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand.

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist.

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you.

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you.

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well.

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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two-white-butterflies · 11 months

Text

lover boy | c55

Description: Carlos is jealous when someone begins hitting on you.

Pairing: carlos sainz/lawyer!reader

"Are you seriously on twitter right now?" Lando scratched the back of his head, attempting to get a clear view of Carlos' phone. "It's important," he shrugged - seeing that John Mayer's comment about you. "Wait, is this about (Your Name)?" he asked, knowing about his friend's little crush on his co-worker.

Lando remembers you as a funny person, the type of girl who'd tell jokes but her laugh would be the funniest part. He could see how his friend fell in love with you. "You didn't hear it from me, but Taylor's ex has a crush on her too." he informed, taking a sip of his champagne.

"He looks desperate," Carlos was quick to insult, feeling the blood pump through his veins with fury. Wasn't this the guy that Lewis couldn't stop complaining about? Apparently, Shakira doesn't like the John Mayer man too. "Desperate until he's in her dm's," Lando glanced at his friend - seeing if anything changed in his features.

Bingo! Carlos was frowning.

"She wouldn't, no? She's a Taylor Swift fan. We're going to the Era's Tour together." he defended himself, still staring at your tweet. "Going to a concert with no label? Carlito - you have to make it fast or else you're gonna be in the friendzone forever." Lando continued teasing, wanting to see his friend with a girl.

"Loco," he mumbled underneath his breath.

But deep inside, he knew that Lando was right.

And Carlos had to make his move.

babylemem1 J*hn Ma**r after seeing Carlos Sainz' post

carlosleclairfan: CARLOS SAID "UR NOT HITTING ON MY *ALLEGED* GIRLFRIEND" WAHHAHAH 🤣 - havanagomz22: gf?? - - carlosleclairfan: yeah, I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE DATING

"Carlos," you knocked on his door impatiently. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning his phone off and giving you his full attention. You take a step inside of his room, settling on the couch beside him. "Is everything alright between you and a certain singer?" you ask cryptically, not wanting to spook him just yet.

He probably hasn't opened twitter - and Lando - well, he's Lando.

"John Mayer, hate him." he rolled his eyes, already knowing where the conversation was headed. "Well, you'll be happy to see the tweets that Lando made about him." you bite your lower lip, turning your Ipad in his direction for him to read the tweets. "Madre mia..." he mumbled - resisting a laugh.

"I couldn't stop laughing the first time I saw it. Does this have something to do with me?" you inquire, knowing that John Mayer was currently sitting in your twitter dms (ignored.)

"Maybe," he lied - looking away from you.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

carlossainz55: I don't believe in soft launches 😛

149 comments 125,923 likes

LandoNorris: Looking very respectful! 💪🏽

Y.N_Official: I like that picture of me, very good Carlito! - carlossainz55: ❤️ te amo tanto

Y.N_Official: all along there was some, invisible string. 💗

812 comments 12,842 likes

carlossainz55: Handsome ❤️ - LandoNorris: who lied to u? - - carlossainz55: I'll let you pass this one time...

twilightfan22: OMG OMG OMG Atty. Y/N Sainz. The fucking power.

----

AND THE TUMBLR IMAGE CAPACITY STRIKES AGAIN

Requests are open

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz social media au #f1 social media au

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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months

Note

So um...saw that giant!könig post...

How would he react to the reader being pregnant? Like, as they're preggo, how he would accommodate them and prepare them for the birth? If it'd be a cesarean, what would he do? I'm just feral over the idea, and I'd love to see more if you want!

Please and thank you, ignore if you desire!

Hello there, my Sweet, and thank you for writing in !

Warnings: Size Kink, Implied Baby Trapping, Mentions of Pregnancy, Mentions of Childbirth, Mentions of Pain, Mentions of Blood, Fem! Reader.

He'd honestly react with shock - like he hasn't been trapping you in a jar and creating contraptions beyond mortal comprehension for this express purpose.

Nevertheless, he's overjoyed and, initially, floored by the news.

Best believe he's got the squad (the two people he knows) on speed-dial and is 100% divulging every detail of your newfound pregnancy to them.

Bragging 24/7 about how he got a human pregnant, how Ghost and Horangi have never even touched a human, how-

Oh, they hung up.

As for the accommodations he'd make, he'd search for the best doctor around (preferably a human one, though you'll have to convince him that you want one simply because you think they'll have a higher chance of delivering the baby safely compared to a Giant doctor and not because you want their help to try and escape him). And, once he finds one, he'll be counting down the days until your due date.

If you run even a day late, he'll begin to fret - starts mourning the family he hasn't even obtained yet.

Yes, you will need to calm him down. No, it shouldn't be your job, but you aren't exactly in a position to argue with a Giant who is busy holding back tears at the prospect of losing you and your baby.

He's absolutely useless during childbirth, btw. CanNOT stand even the thought of blood, never mind the prospect of it coming from you.

He'll likely spend most of the labour period almost fainting. He nearly keeled over when your tiny grip around his finger (which he let you hold for physical support) tightened during a particularly harsh contraction. Many a tear and a whimper were held back that day.

It's all worth it in the end, though.

König couldn't be happier with the result: a happy, healthy baby and a wife he can raise it with.

Even if you aren't here of your own free will, the fact that you're here at all is what keeps König sane.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

#sweet as an angel #giant konig #cod konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod x you

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alistairsmonstercafe · 5 months

Text

NSFW How to Gain the trust of a Dragon in the Dragons Den, Guide 02

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART ?

NOTICE; TOP/SWITCH Male Hybrid Reader

CHARACTER; BOTTOM/SUB Price, BOTTOM/SWITCH Soap,

CW; Threesome, slight choking? Hella horny dragon, body worship, praise, face sitting, fingering, ass eating, cock suckin' shit like that.

ADDITIONAL; I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION; @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr & @/thegnomelord for the scale idea on tumblr.

NOTE; Accidentally posted the draft... | This will be a mini series staring our favorite little hybrids. Part ? Will be a poll of a repeat character or a non 141 character.

As Price paced outside the office, the temptation to peek behind that imposing door grew stronger. His hybrid instincts nudged him toward curiosity, but his rationality warned against it. He wasn't your mate. Not Soap's either. He'd be a prick if he suddenly barged in purely because he was a horny dragon, he hasn't felt the urge for a proper mate for years, but it was uncommon for species to crossbreed, or to even have packs, or other mates then one that weren't of the same species.

Yet, there was something magnetic about the possibility—a pull he couldn't quite resist. The thought flickered in his mind like a distant flame, leaving him torn between his innate curiosity and the risk.

And despite the gentle reach of his claw near the door, he didn't. He was old. Older then most of you, who would dare date a dragon of his age? Even people of his kind preferred dragons who could keep up with them, not groan at a sudden back pain or a weak knee. Nor the crowfeet on his eyes, signs of age in his face. His body was not as strong as in his younger days, and well, his stomach. It had a lot more pudge to it, something he'd never openly admit.

The following day, despite his position as captain, Price found himself stealing more glances at you and Soap, your little cuddles during lunch, or the way your tails intertwined. The soft cooing and purrs left to each other left him with want, tugging at the fringes of his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the inexplicable allure it held, even though he knew his authority wouldn't grant him it.

As he maneuvered through his duties, his mind kept circling back to you. He questioned his own reluctance to simply talk to you, push the conversation open. It wasn't about rules or permissions; it was a deeper, primal restraint holding him back, a fear of the unknown that clashed with his innate curiosity.

Yet, when he came back to his desk later that evening, he saw a small pile of, to what to most, would seem as mindless trinkets, was actually an abundance of jewels, some of his favorite coffee, tea, and a make shift.. Scale? No. That wouldn't make sense. He could recognize it as yours and Soap's fur. In the shape of a scale.

Were you lads trying to court him? A deep rumble erupted from his chest as he gently held up the item to his nose, his wings relaxing at the mixed scent. The scent of a mate, his instincts whispered. And he couldn't help but agree.

Tucking away the items he placed them in a small box on his shelf full of items he hoarded before. He couldn't have a huge hoard, so he did what he could. And turned the scale shaped fur, into a necklace he could wear on his chest. Closest to his heart. For he knew they had won it already.

It was the next day where you and Soap were idly chatting, he sat down infront of you, and slid over a scale cut perfectly down the middle for you two. You both easily looked up in shock, mouths open. "Wha- Cap'n- Does this mean-" Soap sputtered, and you were still quiet with your jaw still wide open.

"It does. Means it quite bloody clearly, Soap." He replies almost shyly, his firm voice is softened with love and affection as he smiles. Those beautiful crow lines appear once more and the sight of both of your tails swaying happily is a tell-tale sign hes done the right choice.

He's quick to get back up, walking to the door before stopping and turning back to say; "My room, at nine exactly. Alright?"

You're both quick to say yes and despite his cool demeanor as he leaves, Price feels hard as a rock as the first blooms of heat start back in his stomach. A feeling he hasn't felt in ages, but that can wait for later tonight. He wouldn't be a captain without all that self-discipline, after all.

So its when Price comes to the dark of his room, a little worn out, he surprised to suddenly see a nest, and you and Soap sitting on his bed with only the moon light to illuminate your features. And coo he does because he melts at the sight that you both waited for him.

You're the first to pull him in with a grin, your tail wrapping around his waist as you and Soap are quick to strip him down until hes left in a shirt and boxers. But hes quick to push you down onto your back in the nest as he sits on your lap, Soap he behind Price, kissing down his back as his tail wags.

But as you look up at Price, he looks like a beauty, and your hand gently traces down from his chin, to his toned yet supple and beautifuy scared chest, to his stomach, caressing the pudge as you whisper praise. And it. Makes Prices face burn with pride at the fact someone accepts him and his appearance, something he didn't think he'd be self conscious on.

Soap continues quick and sloppy kisses up his back, leaving soft nips and bites on him, leaving it mostly betweem you and Price. He loves both of you but you had both discussed the idea before. You wanted to pamper Price, and make him feel higher then cloud 9.

And you did, each kiss, and bite, began to switch as Price was switched around by Soap. And you easily pulled Price's hips towards you and kissed his ass, making Price groan in response. The sound cut short as Soap began to kiss him, stroking your cock in the meantime to keep you satisfied as well. It was his turn to assist.

"Fuck- Price- So fuckin' pretty for us." Soap groans out to price, and you can only agree, pressing kisses up his neck as his tail makes soft noises against the nest as it wags aggressively against it.

Price only moans a little, his hips still bucking into your mouth as your tongue is quick, and perfectly long enough to reach deep into him inside, his dragoh tail is quick to curl around your neck and slightly squeeze lovingly. The way you and Soap praise Price and his body makes him melt. Hes an old lad, scales of iron from how the world has hardened him and yet you make him so soft.

So loved.

So accepted.

He thought he was content with 141 but knowing that two of the members in it are his mates? He can only purr.

Its when Soap slides down and suck off Price whilst hes still sitting on your face does he lose it. Not knowing where to buck his hips either back and forth, and instead sways them. His claws tugging at Soaps hair and your hands wrapped tightly on his hips, bits of blood is evident from your claws but neither notice.

Its when you suddenly slide in a finger that Price goes almost limp, his tail squeezes a little tighter and his moans get louder. Damn the thin walls because tonight he knows hes going to be fucked well in his nest.

And in his eyes thats a night well spent.

Aftermath; By morning Gaz is the first of the 141 to complain. Small eyebags under his eyes as he stares at you, Soap, and Price.

"Fucked real good huh? Give me some earplugs next time alright?" He remarks, drinking some coffee, Ghost watches but said nothing. But theres something about the way his smoke slides up his arm at the words 'fucked', before sliding back down, gives you slight curiosity.

#cod #cod mw2 #gn reader #john price #john soap mactavish #male reader #monster au #john price x reader #soap x male reader #soap x reader #john x reader #john price x male reader

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everparanoid · 6 months

Text

Make me lose my breath, make me water ┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , NSFW

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: Cunnilingus, consent is hot, Reader is from Natlan, cuffs used inappropriately, Body Worship, My First Smut, Fontaine is France but it's not but it is, PWF, PWP, Mutual Pining, No use of y/n, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), Creampie, biting kink, Written After 4.1 Update, Minor spoilers for 4.0 quest, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, light orgasm denial

wordcount: 6.1k

synopsis: The notorious Duke of the fortress of Meropide hasn't been on his A-game lately, and it shows.

Originally posted: 25.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: 'Water' by Tyla.

Three quick knocks rattled the door to his large office. The sound echoed up to the second floor where his desk resided.

“Come in,” Wriothesley said not looking up from his papers.

Wriothesley was a busy man. Well, being the Duke of the self-running, man-powered Fortress of Meropide wasn’t an easy job. It wasn’t exhausting either, but that was beside the point.

He took a slow prolonged sip from his teacup. The second sip in the last hour; the flavoured water had long since cooled from the general chill in the office. Not that he could feel anything beyond the normal chill of the underwater Fortress; and with the added benefit of his cryo vision he considered himself well-suited for the climate. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the sun. Although, he could see the sun whenever he found a reason to leave the fortress, which he often didn’t.

He sighed for the fifth time that hour.

“I hear you’ve been doing that a lot,” You said ascending the spiralled staircase.

He paused and lowered his teacup, placing it on the small pile of report papers he was using as a mat. One side of his lips raised threatening to become a half smile. He quickly wiped it away.

“Oh? Have I now?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, your voice smooth and confident. “I think I’m going to have to report you to Sigewinne.”

“Am I to assume she isn’t the one who sent you?”

His eyes met yours as you arrived atop the stairs, a hand on your hip and that sassy look in your eyes that he had grown fond of. He realised now why he had been so distracted.

He missed you.

You often frequented the fortress. First as a commissioned messenger between Wriothesley and Neuvillette, then a ‘convict’, and after that a friend and now… he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain about the company. It was nice having someone as into tea as he was. Not that he would admit it, but it got lonely in the Fortress sometimes. More so since he met you.

“What? You afraid of a couple of stickers?”

“You know about that?” he grumbled, glancing at the pile of crumpled Melusine stickers littering the side of his desk, freshly pulled off the back of his coat.

“I have ears everywhere, Your Grace,” you smirk, withholding the crucial fact that you were the culprit providing the stickers for Sigewinne and her Melusine friends. They paid you back in giggles and smiles, and just the joy on their small faces was enough for you.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably know more about what’s happening in my humble home than me,” he said. Only a half lie on his part. You had an aptitude for making tough things bend to your will. Him being the toughest of things in question. He dismissed the thought of you flashing that blinding smile at anyone other than him.

Your shoulders rose and fell as a melodic laugh left your lips and graced his ears. If he could keep your voice in a bottle, he would.

You shook your head and pushed off the railing. His attention remained on you as you took a seat on the settee a bit away from his desk. His throat—as if he hadn’t just taken a sip of his cold tea— felt overwhelmingly dry. He cleared it gently and picked up his teacup.

“How’s the Traveler and Paimon?” he asked, taking a sip.

The flavoured water was colder. He needed to calm down lest he froze the entire thing. He imagined you would be the only one to find amusement in him sipping ice.

You crossed your legs, and your skirt rode up. He looked away respectfully, much to his dismay and the favour of his quickly deteriorating will. He didn’t remember when it happened. When he started seeing you as more than just the middle woman between Neuvillette and himself; more than just a pawn in this game against the fatui, but now he found himself knowing the way your cheek dimpled slightly only on your right cheek when you laugh; how the skin around your eyes crow when you yawn or squint; how you change to fix your posture every thirty minutes when you’re lost in a book, and your neck starts to get sore, and your lower back begs to be stretched out. He pulled himself out of his thoughts before they had a chance to spiral further.

“They send their regards and a thank you for your help with ‘the situation,’” you said making air quotes. You didn’t mention how you didn’t plan to return to them for a while, but some things were best left unsaid with Wriothesley.

Wriothesley nodded and gestured for you to join him in for some tea.

“If you have some time, of course,” he finished.

“Of course, If you are offering,” you responded.

You went to stand but Wriothesley beat you to it. Thankful for the excuse to busy himself with something other than your smouldering presence. If he was an icy avalanche, then you were like a raging inferno, melting him into warm water. Perhaps it had something to do with the pyro vision dangling from your hip. He glanced at the vision and caught a glimpse of your bare legs. He froze, curious about what colour you might be wearing underneath your skirt: black, white, blue, red? Instead, he was beyond relieved when he saw black shorts. He breathed a sigh. That’s so you.

“I can heat the pot, you know?” you say, growing increasingly more tired of his strange mood and equally as obscure silence. Never had Wriothesley sighed so much. Honestly, you never would have considered him a sigher; more a hmpher or a quiet snickering type.

You and everyone in Fontaine who had the pleasure or misfortune—mostly the misfortune—of knowing the Duke, knew that recently he had been off. In truth, your visit hadn’t been to express Neuvillette’s message (though that made a great cover). No, you were there because of a chain of strange letters from Sigewinne, given to you by an equally as annoyed Clorinde, telling you of the Duke’s bizarre behaviour. According to these letters, he was more attentive than usual. He had appeared around the fortress checking in on the production zones and the inmates an alarming number of four times in the last month, nearly causing several heart attacks amongst the inmates, which as a result caused Sigewinne to be on high alert from all the overworking; he hasn’t been partaking in as many fights in the ring, and he hasn’t been drinking as much tea.

It was the last two on the list that shocked you the most and was most of the reason why you were there now. Wriothesley not drinking tea? Was Fontaine’s archon a fraud?

Uncrossing your legs, you stood and approached him. Placing a hand on the teapot, you heated the water with your vision.

“Let me do that," you said.

You sounded more breathless than you had intended to, but being so close to him does that to you. He always managed to take your breath away, but you had stupidly thought that with time those senseless reactions would die upon learning more about the mysterious brutish duke. The way all crushes faded when the mystic i.e., the lack of information and the delusions of projection, disappeared. Instead, it seemed to have only worsened. A butterfly somersaulted in your stomach when you accidentally brushed your hand against his.

Wriothesley stiffened. The touch went straight to his gut.

“Why are you here?” he responded smoothly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Not that he was concerned about why you were here—he couldn’t be happier—but you were supposed to be away for the next six months on a quest with the traveler to your home region, Natlan. Had Sigewinne called you back out of concern for him? He had to be more careful around the small nurse in the future.

“Your tea collection isn’t as depleted as usual,” you observed, staring into the box filled with other miniature boxes of tea, skilfully deflecting the question.

“An interrogation. You’re making me nervous,” he joked. “I am a busy man, I don’t always have time for tea.”

The look you fixed him with was not amused.

“You always drink at least three cups a day,” you said putting stress on the ‘at least.’ If it wasn’t tea, it would be a terrible addiction.

“Wow, you’re counting? I’m impressed.”

“Which flavour do you want?” you said, ignoring him.

“The special blend.”

Without a second thought, you plopped the tea bag into the teapot and left it to brew.

It was your favourite, and that is why he chose it. He was more of a black tea or green tea kind of person, but the special blend he had made specifically for you. You didn’t know that though; you didn’t have to, he enjoyed hearing your quiet hums of happiness with each sip. It was great fodder for his late-night thoughts.

His heart warmed, as the skin around your eyes crowed the way he loved. Loved? He cleared his throat.

“You aren’t booking yourself as many fights. Which I would be happy about if I thought it didn’t directly correlate to why you’re acting so strange,” you lectured, and to him, you sounded like a particular short blue-haired Melusine.

“I can’t help but feel that you are worried about me,” he jested.

“As anyone would be about a friend,” you said.

Friend? Yes, that was what you were. Friends.

“Friends. Yes,” he agreed albeit stiffly.

You gave him a cautious side-eye unsure as to why his tone hurt you.

The word left a bitter taste in Wriothesley’s mouth and when you offered to fill his cup again, he accepted. Suddenly needing the soothing numbing effects of his tea more than ever. You topped up his cup before you poured the heated water into the teacup that had unintentionally become yours.

Wriothesley didn’t let anyone else use it. It was superstitious really, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious person. However, he worried that if he let anyone else use it you suddenly won’t come back one day. Not that you would be able to tell the difference if he did let someone else use the cup; all the teacups he owned looked exactly alike, but yours was different. It was a cup with a little chip on the rim near the handle from when you decided to have your tea with Neuvillette, Clorinde, the traveler and himself after the recent troubles with the Fatui. Your cup had chipped due to the heat of your hand; he could recall the horror on your face when he informed you how much each cup cost after letting you ramble on about owing him another cup.

You eventually fell into a comfortable silence sitting together on the settee.

“Clorinde has been visiting you a lot recently,” you said from behind your teacup. You took another sip.

Wriothesley recalled his earlier meeting with the champion dualist.

“Yes, we had some tea.”

“Really?”

“Jealous?”

You turned away.

“There is no need to be, I assure you,” he said, feeling a deep sense of relief at the way you seemed so bothered by his meeting with your mutual friend. The same friend who had been lecturing him about his ‘mutual’ feelings for you. Perhaps it was because of your reaction, that he realised that Clorinde might have been right. Or he was delusional? Maybe it was both.

Wriothesley placed his mug down on the coffee table. His hand brushed your bare thigh and you both jolt.

“Who says I am jealous?” You snapped, your lip twitching.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because your lip twitches when you’re upset, and your pyro vision makes you heat the things around you without abandon. Your eyes lose that spark which makes them look like the spotlights guarding Meropide, and you refuse to look at me because you know I’ll see right through you. And I do. I see you.”

He took another sip from his tea, pretending to not notice your tea bubbling in your hand, and the crack growing on the side of the teacup.

“It’s not nice to make jokes like that, Your Grace,” you said nervously.

Your eyes darted about the office settling on anything but him. The bookshelves looked fuller than usual. Has he been reading more books?

“Indeed. It is not but come on you should know me better than that by now. I never joke about things like this,” he said. His voice was clear and sincere. “Is it so strange that I would want to give a few words of praise out of genuine adoration?”

Especially since he saw the way you’re reacting; he knew that it was real and not a fantasy from his misguided thoughts. He wouldn’t lose this opportunity to make his feelings clear. He was a straightforward guy, after all. When he knew what he wanted was within his reach he wouldn’t simply pass it up. It would be unjust. He wanted to watch you smile, to be the one that caused that smile; he wanted to be the first person you went to when something good happened in your life; he wanted to feel your skin and not just in passing touches; he wanted to let it scold him, to embrace the flames.

“Ah, it seems I have ruined the mood,” he said smoothly.

He stood.

You went to stand too, but when you did the boiling liquid in your teacup splashed your hand. You hissed and dropped it. The porcelain shattered against the metal ground; the liquid spilt everywhere.

Wriothesley sat back down on the settee and took your warm hand in his immediately not sparing a second to glance down at his soaked boots. They encased yours and worked to chill the burn; one of the many benefits of having a cryo vision. The two of you couldn't be any more different. Fire and ice co-exist? Impossible. Unimaginable. Dangerous. The tenderness in which he held your hand sets your heart ablaze as if it wasn’t already. Had he been telling the truth? You knew the Duke better than most, and with that knowledge you know he wasn’t the type to lie about that, but did he mean it? Could he mean it?

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Wriothesley’s attention remained on the forming boil on your soft skin. He soothed it gently, trying not to give you frost-burn. Thankfully the natural heat of your skin stopped his cryo from hurting you further.

“For what?” he responded softly, bringing your hand up to his lips and breathing out cool frosty air. You felt like mush, and if it weren’t for the dull ache in your hand you would have snatched up the opportunity to run said hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. It always looked so soft and maybe he would allow you to touch it.

You pulled a face between flustered and self-loathing.

“That was one of your expensive teacups,” you managed to choke out.

He continued to blow cool air onto your hand.

“There will be other teacups,” he says, his lips barely an inch from your skin.

You wanted to melt on the spot.

“But—“

He sighed and said your name sternly looking up at you through the haze of dark lashes.

“Why would I worry about a teacup when you are hurt?” he asked and lowered your hand from his lips. “In any case, I should apologise for ruining a perfectly good meeting. If you have said all you need to say then—”

You waved your hands, flabbergasting him as you snatched them from his cool encasing, momentarily forgetting about the burn, and cutting him off mid-speech.

“No, you didn’t,” you yelped.

He half smiled at the scarlet tint of your ears, and taking your burnt hand back into his, he proceeded to gently apply cryo to the festering burn.

“Ah, is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright then, how will you pay me back?”

“Huh?”

“You broke my favourite teacup, after all. So—“ he said your name with a hint of mischief in his smooth voice. “How will you pay me back?”

“That’s not fair!” You straightened in your seat. “How can that be your favourite teacup when they all look the same? Are you just saying that to make me feel worse than I already do?”

He cocked a brow and tugged you forward. You fell into him, your free hand coming to rest on his lower abdominal. Your nose brushed his, and you felt his cool breath against your cheeks. His breathe smelt of spearmint. Your lips twitched and you tried to focus on the scar under his eye (the one you’ve always wanted to trace with the tips of your fingers) so as to not meet his icy blue stare, or to glance down at the obvious smirk on his lips. You wanted to kiss him; you could kiss him; would he let you kiss him?

Wriothesley watched your tongue dart out to swipe across your lips; he wanted to bite it; but he had more control than that. He had an image to uphold. The Duke was supposed to be fair and reasonable; he was supposed to lead by example and be a neutral figure of respect and reverence, not a brute without self-control. He pushed you back gently, hoping beyond hope that in your shock you haven’t noticed how hard he was.

“Kidding, of course,” he drawled.

Anger coloured your face and you punched his shoulder, half seriously. You hissed and shake your still very much wounded hand. You had been duelling partners for a while when you had spent a significant amount of time in the Fortress pretending to be a convict back when you were neither friend nor whatever you were now. He’d only agreed to it at the time because you managed to beat everyone and nearly him.

“You are breathtaking,” he muttered. “Come on let’s get you to Sigewinne.”

He stood and offered you his hand.

Your heart stuttered. Even though you weren’t native to Fontaine you were well-versed in their mother language, but even then, you didn’t believe your ears.

“What?” you asked.

He chuckled again, a deep and hearty sound.

“When will I stop doubting the ears of a seasoned traveler,” he said out loud although it was meant for his ears alone. He must have been mentioning your mutual friend, the blond traveler, and their small pixie pie companion, Paimon. You have been accompanying them on a few commissions and quests here and there, especially through Natlan. Which kept you away from Fontaine for significant periods of time, much to Wriothesley’s silent dismay.

However, he would never keep something so precious away from the light. He tried to keep a pet once—not that you were a pet—but he soon realised that it was wrong to keep something meant to be in the sun away from it. And if he couldn’t do it to a small animal then he definitely couldn’t do that to you. You were a traveller, not even native to Fontaine. Although you have made it clear countless amounts of times that Fontaine is your favourite region; he can’t help but feel like you weren’t meant to be chained to one place. He won’t be your administrator, the fortress won’t be your prison, and he couldn’t imagine keeping you in this cage with him. He refused to, even if his more selfish desires would have you cuffed to his desk where he could gaze upon you forever till you hated him and wished him gone.

“No, I want to talk first,” you said.

“I assure you we can talk after your hand has been seen too.”

“Wriothesley.”

Your tone went straight to his cock. You have never said his name, at least not his face. Even when you’re both around your mutual ‘friends’ you still have only ever called him ‘your grace.’ He wanted to hear you say his name again. He wanted to hear you say his name breathlessly, desperately, whilst you crumbled into each other. He cleared his throat and walked across his office hoping that the distance would stop you from noticing the obvious tent in trousers. He fiddled with the cuffs on his hips to distract himself and pulled at his tie.

“You really should go…to Sigewinne,” he said.

You approached him. He turned away from you facing a bookshelf. You brushed your fingertips to his forearm feeling the chilling aura around his skin. You expected him to pull away, for him to stop you from going past the point of no return, but he didn’t.

“Wriothesley,” you said his name again, this time with a wistful air. You don’t even realise you’re saying it. You never said it; not to him, only to the crisp cold darkness when your back arched on your sheets late into the night.

“Say it again,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.”

Your eyes widened as you realised your mistake. You have always tried not to say his name to separate your lustful fantasies from the real man.

He faced you, capturing your gaze and with it your heart too in his glacial eyes that looked so warm. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but obey. His name slipped out in a hushed prayer: “Wriothesley.”

In turn, he said yours; just as quiet, just as wanting.

“You really should go to Sigewinne,” he said and ghosts his thumb along your jaw.

“What if I don’t want to?” you stepped closer. “What if I want to stay right here?”

His expression darkened.

“You shouldn’t,” he said with no bite behind it.

You didn’t budge.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, sounding way more desperate than you intended. Before you could cringe at yourself, he had you caged in his arms, mouth cold against yours. He groaned when you bit down on this bottom lip, and for the first time, you felt his thick erection brush against your stomach.

None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of kissing Wriothesley and any pain in your hand disappeared altogether. He kissed you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth; like you were his last gulp of air before he dissolved into primordial water.

He tugged on your shirt.

“If you don’t take this thing off right now I’m going to rip it,” he said, his breath laboured.

You reached under your shirt, and he helped you slip it over your head. He threw it away and pulled you into another kiss. His hand wrapped in your hair.

You took off his tie and his waistcoat, his usual fur coat was already draped on the back of his large red chair. He stopped you unbuttoning his shirt, shaking his head, trailing kisses along your jaw, and down your neck as he walked you backwards to his desk. He unclasped your bra. He watched it slide down your arms and then tossed it somewhere that was going to be your future you’s problem.

“Up,” he ordered.

You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grasped the underside of your thighs and placed you down on the free space of his grand desk.

He bit your shoulder, and you moaned out his name in a way that had him almost feral. He lapped at the wound and kissed it. You threw your head back biting down on your lip. He continued leaving kisses and nibbles along your collarbone, slowly lowering until your breasts were under his hungry gaze. You suddenly felt nervous. You wouldn’t say you were insecure in your looks. You knew that your looks were something to behold and of which you were very proud. They’ve come in handy in your many jobs as many times as they have caused unnecessary issues but being under the watchful gaze of Wriothesley felt different… intimate. You tried to bring your hands up to cover yourself. Wriothesley caught your wrists, looking up at you from his crouched position.

“Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

“Wriothesley,” you said.

“If you aren’t comfortable, we can stop,” he assured you, although the words pained him and his dick, consent was king—always. If you weren’t comfortable, he could always sort himself out later. You were the most important thing to him. He let go of your wrists and you dropped them, letting him feast his eyes on your breasts.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop,” he said. “Give me a safe word.”

“Cake,” you instantly responded.

“Cake?” He cocked a brow. “Cake, it is.”

Without a moment spared, he grasped your breasts and planted a kiss there, dragging his lips over your nipples in a way that made you shiver. He smiled to himself at the occasional whimpers that left you; even more pleased that he was the one causing them.

“I love the noises you make. I love your voice. I’m obsessed with it. I wish to capture it and listen to it whenever you’re away,” he groaned.

He dragged his tongue down, further, and further until he was on his knees, he pushed up your skirt that had been bothering him since you crossed your gorgeous legs earlier. He was tempted to have you keep it on when he fucked you, for no other reason than the thought that the next time you decided to wear that poor excuse of a skirt he knew all you would be able to think about was how he messed you up in it. The thought brought him immense pleasure.

He slid his hands into your shorts, squeezing your thighs. The flimsy piece of black material and whatever surprise underwear beneath it were the only things keeping him from what he wanted. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel how you’ll curl on his tongue; he wanted to feel you gripping his hair and screaming his name as he brought you to a high only he could give you.

“These damn shorts,” he grumbled.

“I climb mountains. How else am I going to keep myself comfortable?” you asked.

He tutted and tore them open; the fabric did not put up much of a fight at all.

“I guess you won’t be climbing mountains anytime soon,” he said guiding the torn fabric down your legs.

“Those were my favourites, you brute.”

He winked up at you.

“Ah, I suppose that makes us even,” he drawled.

Was he thinking about that damn teacup right now?

“How are you?” He said, checking in on you.

“Good.”

He smiled and your heart melted a little.

He froze when he took in the sight of your lingerie.

“Were you thinking of me when you bought these?”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you said.

“Too late.”

You bit your lip. It hadn’t been intentional, your underwear matching the colour of his eyes. He trailed his nose up the soaked fabric brushing your clit. You grabbed his hair at the stimulation. You felt the beginnings of the scruff threatening to break out of his chin tickling you as he guided your lingerie aside and gave your clit an ardent lick. Wriothesley wasn’t big on savoury treats, but you weren’t savoury, you tasted like you, and you were fast becoming his favourite dessert.

“You taste divine,” he said.

“Oh Archons,” you muttered.

“They won’t hear you down here,” he said.

It didn’t take long before your toes were curling, and you were chanting his name. Wriothesley gripped your thigh with one hand and fingered you with the other, stretching you out in preparation for him; because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that you were going to cum around him. He was going to feel the way you would clench around him; he was going to watch your blissed-out face twist as he fucked you hard into his desk. Although he would love to feel you climax on his face there would be time for that. He’d be damned if this was the first and only time he had you. You were his. Morals and reputation be damned, he wanted—no, needed to be inside you. He didn’t care if the entirety of Meropide could hear you; in fact, he got off on the thought.

Just when you felt like you were about to climax, he pulled away and licked his lips. You glared at him as he stood and bent over you kissing you softer than before. You could taste yourself on his lips, and instead of it turning you off it spurred you on. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, grinding against his clothed erection.

“Do you trust me?” he asked between heated kisses.

Everything felt wet like you both were melting, and you probably were. If so, you didn’t care, becoming water wasn’t half bad if it was with him. You heard his cuffs before you saw them spinning around the two fingers that had been inside you.

“Right now, no,” you lied.

He half smiled.

“I suppose I deserve that. I guess I’ll just have to persuade you then.”

You untangled from around him. He stepped back unbuttoning his shirt and revealing lean scar-littered skin. You wanted to reach out and so you did, tracing the long jagged discoloured scars, slightly keloid. Some looked fresher than others. He shivered and breathed out a low groan when you grazed over his nipple. He raised his signature cuffs.

“Give me your wrists,” he said.

It clinked when it secured around both wrists. The spiked metal looked so beautiful against your skin; he was almost tempted to throw away the key.

“Oh no, you’ve caught me, your grace,” you teased. Something you shouldn’t have done because the way he looked at you after told you that you had triggered something in him.

“You did break my favourite teacup after all,” he said.

“I thought we were even.”

You watched him slowly unbuckle his belt and step between your legs. There would be time for savouring the moment later, many moments if he could help it but not then. You felt his erection only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers press against your vagina, he leans over you caging you between his arms and the desk.

“Indeed, we are for breaking.” He nibbled on your ear, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. That was an expensive cup you know some flimsy shorts won’t cover the costs. You should know I only play fair, and you got some of the tea on my freshly shined boots.”

Your cuffed hands resting on your stomach fiddled with the lining of his boxers. You lost your breath when he nuzzled into the base of your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he grunted.

You manage to slip his cock out.

“Says the man who denied me my orgasm.”

You felt his smile on your neck.

He rubbed his cock along your folds but didn’t push in. He wanted to be sure that you’re sure.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he said as he continued to edge your hole.

“Just fuck me already,” you sassed.

He thrust into you, filling you completely. He was thicker than you expected, thicker than you had had before. You couldn’t be more thankful for the earlier foreplay because without it he wouldn’t have fit. He remained still for a while, and you slowly adjusted to his size. The dull ache of the intrusion quickly turned from discomfort to bliss.

“Wriothesley.”

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed. “Don’t stop saying my name.”

You didn’t.

“Good girl,” he said.

The desk jutted, the papers shook, and books slid off the desk smacking the floor in their wake, but the sound was lost to you both. Despite his strong persona, and much to your delight, he didn’t hold back his occasional whimpers, and grunts. The sound blessed your ears like a symphony. Sometime after your first orgasm, he took off the cuffs and threw them to his settee.

He left the occasional bites and kisses on the underside of your jaw, and down to your breasts. You, in turn, added to the long scars down his back, your nails clawing into the flesh. He would treasure those when they scarred.

You guided his face up from your neck, where he had been breathing you in as if he couldn’t get enough of you into his system. In truth, he couldn’t. You kissed him deeply, filling it with all the words you hadn’t yet been able to say. You felt your third climax on the horizon as he hit the same spot that made your back arch.

“Wriothesley,” you said against his mouth. “There.”

He chased your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, rolling his hips. He slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and rubbed your swollen clit. You let out a needy moan.

“I’ve got you,” he said as you clenched around him.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of primordial water. He held you to him, as he continued to thrust towards his own high, encasing you in his arms.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groaned.

Wriothesley felt like he was on cloud nine. Being with you was entirely different from what he imagined in the best way possible. It felt like a dream having you here, in his arms, pliant to his every desire. In each kiss, he pretended that you felt the same way; that you wanted the same things. He pretended that this moment wasn’t just a moment but forever—because he wanted you forever.

He slowed down prolonging the experience and straightened up looking down at the fucked-out expression on your face. He knew he didn’t look any better. Swiping a hand through his hair, he continued to roll his hip slowly. He placed a hand on your pelvis steadying you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat which glistened under the light of the office. He felt like he was melting into you—like you were melting into each other.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered opening your arms for him, beckoning him home. And truly, to him, you felt like home.

He pushed his damp hair back once again, before leaning over you. With a final grunt and a spam of your walls around him, he came. He didn’t pull out right away, wrapping his arms around you as if afraid to let go.

Your thighs were sticky from your combined releases, and your body felt like it had been sitting in a sauna for hours but seeing the rare, satisfied look on his face made it all worth it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“You owe me new shorts,” you said.

“I’ll buy you as many shorts as your heart desires,” he uttered, tiredly.

“Really?”

He hummed and nodded slowly.

“Good because I think I’m going to need a lot of them if you’re going to rip them off every time,” you said causing him to perk up. “You know to repay for the teacup.”

“Oh?”

“Unless this was a one-time thing then—“you hesitated.

He kissed you again, unable to hide his smile.

“Next time let’s use my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you said.

He tried to intertwine your hands, but you winced when he brushed against the forming boil.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and to Sigewinne, for real this time.”

“First, can we have a cup of tea?” you asked.

He laughed. Of course, you wanted to have tea. He could do with some tea too; he was famished after all. He laid a kiss on your forehead and made a mental note to send Clorinde an extra box of his finest tea.

“Of course, first let's clean up and then we'll have tea. I promise, but don’t spill it this time.”

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

#wriothesley imagines #Genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #wriothesley #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley x you #genshin drabbles #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley thirst #genshin smut #i am unhealthily obsessed with this man

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percygranate · 1 year

Text

⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️

⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.

I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.

In-depth explanation [HERE]!

This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.

I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.

They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.

——— Update ———

Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.

——— Update ———

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.

Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓

Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.

⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️

——————————————————

↓These are their two original works↓

Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.

Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.

——————————————————

↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓

Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.

1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”

2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o

3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o

4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o

5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o

6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o

7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o

8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o

9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o

10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”

11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o

12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o

13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!

14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o

15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”

16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o

——————————————————

They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.

If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.

Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.

If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.

⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️

Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!

Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!

Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.

⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️

AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.

Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.

⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️

DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!

In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!

⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️

#ickybatz

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 8 months

Text

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part three)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows), Makarov

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

A/n: I tried so hard to get this one out in time with the other but my other wips are getting to me 😭. I posted twice today just to feed y'all ahaha.

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

König

ꕥ (PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER ME, I DON'T KNOW ANY GERMAN AND I'M USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE)

ꕥ Speaking of König, I don't think this man is the shy boy that some people is making him out to be (not that he doesn't have that side at all, I just feel like they make it his whole personality). Based on voice lines alone this man is cocky asf.

ꕥ There's a reason for his mask, yes he was bullied as a child because of his looks and that's one of the causes to his social anxiety but that doesn't mean this mf is shy. He just like to avoid people and social interactions yk. (Y'all have no idea how much I can relate to this)

ꕥ Has and will continue to use his height to his advantage, someone bothering you while you're both sat having a wonderful time together? This mf stands the fuck up, shoulders back, chest out and everything. Looming over that person while glaring down, arms crossed while they're engulfed by the shadow of this 6'10 behemoth of a man.

ꕥ Chubby!Reader? He'll throw you over his shoulders, only using one arm below your ass while he carries you off. Seriously it is no problem to this man, he'd beg you to sit on his face and suffocate him. If anything I'd say he has a preference for it yk, very soft and plush reader for real.

ꕥ Our DIY king here wearing a shirt for a hood, his hair sticking out of the hole for the head whenever he's dressing casual. Play with his hair like right now, you'll make him melt right then and there.

ꕥ Enjoys cuddling, hasn't had many partners and by that I mean kinda none. Nobody was insane enough to approach him till you came around so he's very touch starved. He didn't even know he enjoyed touching that much till he was able to feel the amount of warmth your body gives him. He'd swear on his life that he was intoxicated in that moment.

ꕥ Whenever you sit or straddle on his lap, he's still so fucking tall. I swear you will gain neck pains if you wanna keep eye contact while talking to him. (I understand the struggle, I am a 5'1 girly. Every character I know within the CoD universe is taller than me 😭)

ꕥ Doesn't actually wear his mask around you, he's comfortable and trust you enough to know you wouldn't go around telling everyone what he looks like.

ꕥ Nicknames he'd call you in German are Mein Schatz, Fräulein, Liebling, Engel and Kleine Maus

ꕥ He's still definitely bitter about not being a sniper. (AHAHAHA)

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

ꕥ (IF I'M BEING HONEST, I DID NOT EXPECT HIS VOICE TO BE THAT DEEP. ALSO HIS VOICE LINES IN KOREAN/HANGUL (IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT)

ꕥ He has doodles on his tactical gear that he did himself (there are also one that are a tribute to squid game because man's had a gambling addiction), has asked you to draw on it too and he proudly wears it when on duty. Will feel stupid while unconsciously smiling if you draw a heart.

ꕥ Writing something down on his vest from your own mother tongue and he's asking the meaning, if it's genuinely something good like a compliment or something like "I love you" then you will catch this man with a shit eating grin.

ꕥ He used to be a gambler before entering the military and it eventually got him to stop, though he still has a thing for risk, he got himself a more deadlier alternative.

ꕥ Expect surprise back hugs, this man isn't called Horangi for nothing. He's stealthy, I like to think that whatever he says to you is well thought out as well. Man knows how to think before he speaks.

ꕥ Horangi likes to pounce on things, just for the fun of it. It leads him to tackle you on your shared bed a lot, lots of play fighting too.

ꕥ HAS THE PRETTIEST EYES EVER. Like seriously, the only people who knows what he looks like is you and König. Had gentle eyes, you know that quote "His eyes softened", yeah that's the definition of his eyes.

ꕥ Loves it when you trace the veins on his arms with your finger nails, will just straight up offer his arm to you.

Keegan P. Russ

ꕥ This man and his panty dropping voice like holy hell I have never heard a voice as deep as his without a vocal fry (from those try hard guys on TikTok who try to hard thinking their thirst traps are good).

ꕥ Calls you "kid" in an affectionate way? It's honestly just what he calls anyone younger than him, you're shorter? He'll emphasize on that shit. Elaborating on the nickname I said earlier, he uses it less when y'all are dating but still does on some occasions.

ꕥ Would say the most dirty and uncalled for things, whispering it in your ears. He's and asshole in the best way possible, loves it when you gasp and playfully slap his chest.

ꕥ He's sweet though, would see you as his wife even if you're not married. You're his now, the moment you entered his life, he basically had a death grip on you.

ꕥ Something tells me that he likes talking about you or to you through radios yk. His voice sounding even deeper through the device, calling you doll even though he's supposed to refer to you with your call sign.

ꕥ Praise kink? I mean you've more likely heard his voice lines, is the type of man to praise you and ruffle your hair, either that or he'll kiss you depending on what stage of your relationship you are both in.

ꕥ Constantly thinks his eyes are weird even though they aren't, he just has sleepy eyes. Speaking of sleeping, I feel like he has such a fucked up sleeping schedule and is used to pulling all nighters more than the normal person.

ꕥ Will drag you in bed though and lay his whole weight on top of you because you ain't going nowhere, you are staying there with him and only him.

Philip Graves

ꕥ (If it isn't "Fix It Felix", please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it AHAHAHA)

ꕥ Philip is touchy, somebody for the love of everything that is holy cuddle this man please. He is just screaming at any type of physical contact at this point. (My sources? Right fucking here)

ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to come home to you and just hug you, y'all would be there for a solid 10 minutes before he lets you go. Burying his head into your neck and just inhaling your scent while having his arms wrapped tightly around you.

ꕥ His Shadows? More like his fucking children, again going back to the TikTok. He knows how to get their attention, the little pats on the shoulder and small praises are his way of saying they did a good job and they're eating it up.

ꕥ That being said, you are either gonna be their mother figure or someone they enjoy protecting because their dad is so fond of you. Why not be both right?

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man won't be next to the grill, spatula, tongs or whatever kitchen utensil in one hand and a cold bottle of beer in the other.

ꕥ Spends his weekends with you on his lap while he watches football in your guys' couch, you're definitely scrolling on your phone during this.

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man doesn't wear cowboy hats and boots because he certainly does, is it a turn on or a turn off? I genuinely do not know..

ꕥ Is fruity on some aspects but would never fucking admit it..

Makarov

ꕥ Y'ALL ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D WRITE FOR THIS MAN? NAH THIS ACC IS WHOLESOME (OR ANGSTY) AND ION THINK THIS MAN IS SALVAGEABLE. (This came from a girl who once was obsessed with Tom Riddle for years when she was 13, I recovered from it dw)

ꕥ This man would literally use anyone and anything as leverage for whatever he wants to achieve. (Yes I am one of those "I can fix him" people but damn idk if this man is fixable)

ꕥ Please don't tell me you actually genuinely think this man would be good to you.. I knew what I was writing was unrealistic but damn y'all are delulu on another level (so am I, stay delulu). Jokes aside I love y'all and he's one of the few I won't write for. (AHEM Severus Snape (that greasy mop haired mf)

ꕥ And yes I understand most of my shit are kind of OOC but damn if I wrote him, it would be extremely fucking far from canon and I don't like romanticizing toxic relationships (if I ever do write it, it will be angst and I can't ever promise a happy ending).

ꕥ Happy April fool's! (I know I'm posting this end of September (it's actually October now 😭)

#cod headcanons #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #philip graves x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x female reader #cod x gn!reader #cod modern warfare #cod mwf2 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 #makarov x reader #satire #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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gambleminds · 3 months

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kitty boy.. oc x bttm ftm reader

this is also a very sudden self-indulgent idea that I got because I was scrolling through my Tumblr feed, and I stumbled across @seojunniea's post about kitty boys. I'm sorry if this doesn't turn out the way you wanted. ;~;

warnings: fingering, light pet play(?), praise, usage of the words; cunt, pussy, clit, folds to refer to reader's genitalia.

You were currently lying down on your bed playing with your own tail as you waited for your master to finish with his paperwork, but you couldn't help but peek to check if he had finished yet.

You were literally praying and mumbling words and wishes about your master to quickly finish his paperwork. You missed him, you missed his touch, his kisses, his cuddles, you missed everything about him.

Spade noticed that, and he couldn't help but approach you. He walked up behind you, and he then gave you some pets on your sensitive cat ears.

"Master!" You say happily before purring from the pets he gave you. You seemed happy to receive the attention that Spade was giving you.

"Awww, did my little kitty miss me?" He asks as he continues to pet you. He hasn't been able to spend time with you lately due to the work that he had been getting.

"Mhm! I miss you so much master.." You admit, before he then gives you a peck on the cheek, which leads up to you to turn to a flustered mess.

Spade then continued to pamper you with kisses, and he kept petting your cute little ears as well! he loves it whenever you're happy, it makes him happy as well.

After a few minutes, he then gave you a sloppy kiss. It had been awhile since you two had last fucked.

"M-Master?" You asked, a bit confused of the intrusion.

Spade then kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours and after almost ten minutes of kissing he finally let's go of your lips so you could breathe.

"Breathe kitty, breathe." Spade says, as he watched you breathe slowly.

As you finally gain your composure back, he then sat you down on his lap before unbuckling your pants, revealing your wet cunt.

"Oh my... you're so wet, kitty..." He teased before inserting a finger in your pussy. he slowly fingers you with one finger.

"M-Master!..." You mewled as you felt his finger inside of your wet folds, Spade's finger was covered in your juices as he continued to finger you.

"Does that feel good? I bet it does kitty." He smirked at the sight of your face as he continued to finger you.

"F-Feels so good!~" You moaned as you feel him add another finger, his fingers rubbing your clit and making you squirm.

"Good kitties get presents, and you were a well-behaved kitty today.." Spade whispered in your ears, which made you feel butterflies.

"You'll be a good kitty the whole night for me, promise that, kitty? It's gonna be a long night for the both of us."

authors note: sorry if it's not the best, aha...

#oc x reader #ftm reader #bottom male reader #male reader smut #male reader #self indulgence at its finest

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secretmelanie · 8 months

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Desire For The Forbidden - Negan Smith

dbsf!negan x reader

word count: 3,3k

A/N: First of all, I have to apologize for accidentally posting this before, because I'm fucking stupid and I don't know how to use tumblr properly (yeah, I didn't go through that phase when I was a teen...)

But well... Shit happens to everyone 🤷🏻

This is the first time I've written a TWD fic and the first time I've published a fanfic... I have no idea how this is going to turn out. This story is just something that was in my crazy little head.

Warnings: Teasing, age gap (reader is 23, negan is mid 40s), fingering, face fucking, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, cum play, p in v, dirty talk, praise, rough negan

━━⊱✿⊰━━

Your father and Negan have been friends for as long as they can remember, Negan held you when you were a baby, took care of you when your parents were busy and he was your gym teacher throughout high school.

When the outbreak began and you lost your mother to the rotters, or "walkers" as you call them nowadays, You and your father fled their city, ending up moving away Negan, not hearing from him for a long time, thinking he had died.

Almost a year after it all started, you came across a group called The Saviors, and your reunion with Negan came to light. You and your father didn't expect to see Negan in this situation, a powerful and dangerous leader, who had communities in his hands.

Now, you guys live in the Sanctuary, your dad is one of Negan's "henchmen," and you're, well, you. Negan hasn't given you any trouble since you arrived, you basically help the weakest people in the Sanctuary to protect themselves and slash walkers when the Saviors let you out. It's quite boring to be honest.

Well, it WAS quite boring.

Your room and your father's room were on the same block as Negan's, since you are very close. This can be counted as both an advantage and a disadvantage. An advantage because it is an extremely protected and safe place, and a disadvantage because you had to deal with the noise that came from his room when he was with his wives.

One day, it was pretty late and the top of the Sanctuary was practically empty, your father and Negan were celebrating with a bottle of whiskey the acquisition of another community. You were with them, just watching them and listening to their conversations, with a glass of wine in your hand, practically the only thing you drink, as it was the only thing your mother drank. You can't help but notice the way Negan's throat moves as he swallows the drink, how the liquid sometimes runs down the corner of his lips and onto his neck and how he licked his lips after. "He had no right to be so hot." you thought, as you took a sip of your wine.

A few hours passed and your father crawled into bed, and Negan went to a small room that contained a TV and a couch, a room that only the three of you had access to.

You saw him heading there, and decided it would be a good idea to go with him, but first, you needed to get comfortable.

You put on your pajamas, a tight white shorts and a tight white tank top, the print on them is some black kittens. These pajamas highlight your curves and breasts, and it's pretty clear that you're not wearing panties or bra. You know damn well how wrong what you're going to do is, but hey, is it your fault that Negan is so fucking hot? No, it isn't.

After changing, you go to the small room where Negan is, he's sprawled out on the couch, legs spread, and a glass of whiskey in his hand. You look at the TV, but completely ignore the movie that was playing. Some VHS tapes are scattered near the TV.

Negan looks at you, you notice his eyes roam your body and he takes a sip of the drink in his hand.

"Hey, kiddo... It's pretty late, I thought you were already asleep." he says, his voice a little hoarse from drinking. Unlike what he does with his wives, blatantly looking at their bodies, he avoids checking out your body, focusing on your face.

You shrug, sitting next to him, and he closes his legs, looking at you. "I'm not sleepy." You respond, resting your head on his shoulder.

"What film is that?" you almost whisper, looking up at him and meeting his eyes, You notice that he is avoiding touching you as much as possible, something that is definitely not normal for Negan when it comes to a woman desiring him, but you completely understand him, after all, you are his best friend's daughter.

"Just a stupid western movie, we don't have much choice here." you nod to his anwser, your eyes focusing on the TV.

You notice that his eyes are now focused on your body, roaming over your curves and your breasts, focusing on your cleavage, but you ignore it completely, pretending to be focused on the movie. He keeps checking you out, and you smile inside, everything is going according to how you planned.

After a few minutes, you stretch and spread your legs a little, getting more comfortable next to him. Negan obviously notices this, and he holds his breath, biting his lip. He takes his free hand to your thigh, as if he didn't want anything, and you ignore it too, as if just one touch from him wouldn't make you melt inside and your intimacy get soaked. You hug his chest, your hand passing teasingly across his stomach until it reaches the other side of his body, moving closer to him.

"Why don't we find something else to do, sweetie?" he clears his throat before saying it with a little mischief in his voice. "Oh, sure..." you get up from the couch, crossing your arms, highlighting your breasts even more. "I'm going to sleep." a smile spreads in your face as you say this and he frowns.

Your body moves closer to his again, and you lean down, kissing his forehead, your cleavage right in front of his face.

He looks a little shocked when you pull away, and you smile at him, saying goodnight and leaving the room, closing the door. Negan couldn't help but look at your ass when you left, your shorts barely covering that area of your body.

When you closed the door, you stood there, and you could hear Negan saying "Damn, she's going to drive me crazy someday." and the sound of his pants zipper opening, followed by the noise of his pants being removed, and a sigh of relief, which you deduced was when he touched himself. You stayed there for a while, listening to Negan's low moans, and smiled when you heard your name escape those lips.

You walked to your room smiling, your intimacy wet from hearing him moan your name, which made you satisfy yourself before going to sleep. Your plan is working.

You woke up the next morning, and headed to the meeting room, which was where you, your father, and Negan usually had breakfast together. You were no longer wearing your pajamas from the night before, but a pair of sweatpants and a loose blouse, which you stole from your father when the outbreak began and you barely had any clothes to change.

Negan and your father were talking about the group's achievements, and you sat next to Negan, greeting them.

They both said good morning to you, and continued talking. You pick up an apple and bite into it, the fruit probably came from some group, you feel a little bad about consuming products taken from other communities, but you couldn't do anything about it.

You listened to their conversation for a long time, until you felt Negan's hand on your thigh, smoothing it and squeezing it lightly. You ignored it, once again pretending that it didn't make your whole body shiver. Everything was going well, until Negan looked at you for half a second, and his hand touched your intimate area, still covered by your pants, caressing it gently, you didn't know how to react, you thought it would take him a while to create the courage to do that out of respect for your father, especially since you two were in front of him, you just opened your legs a bit, giving him permission to continue. He smirked, and quickly got his hand into your pants and panties.

His fingers began to explore your pussy, gently passing through your folds, and his thumb caressed your clit, as he teased your entrance with his index and middle finger. You had to control yourself, because your father is on the other side of the table, but this is so difficult, since now Negan's fingers are slowly entering you.

Your eyes are focused on the wall in front of you as you try to control your breathing and eat your apple normally, but when his fingers get knuckles deep inside you and curl, you let out a gasp, having to pretend that you choke on the apple when your father asks what happened, earning a chuckle from Negan.

Your intimacy is increasingly wet, and this makes it easier for Negan, who fucks you with his fingers, going as deep as he can, reaching your g-spot, and increasing the speed of his thrusts. You do your best not to moan, your breathing is labored, and a drop of sweat runs down your forehead, you notice how slow your father is, because he didn't notice your strangeness, but you and Negan are obviously grateful for that. Your thoughts don't stay on that for long, as Negan's stimulation brings you closer and closer to your orgasm, making you bite your bottom lip hard, causing your lower lip to bleed a little.

Your orgasm hits hard, and you close your eyes tightly, your legs shaking and your body squirming surreptitiously, as you try as hard as you can to not moan, causing a small noise to come out of your throat. Negan gives a satisfied smile, and only now do you pay attention to what they were talking about again, your father is going out with some of the Saviors, to look for other communities, deep down you hope they don't find any, but you know that not everything goes as you expect.

You finished your breakfast feeling Negan's eyes on you, but every time you looked at him, he wasn't even looking at you. Your father got up after finishing his coffee, and kissed you on the forehead, leaving the place.

Negan looks at me as I take a sip of my orange juice. "Have you seen the time, sweetie? I can't believe you woke up so late..." he teases you, since you're always one of the first person to wake up in the Sanctuary.

"I don't believe you woke up early, Negan, since you stayed busy late." you say it back, and he understands right away that you know that he jerked off thinking about you, and it definitely doesn't bother him.

"Oh damn, you heard it, huh?" his tone of voice is provocative, and he has that fucking smirk on his face. "What did you think, did you like it, sweetie? I know you did..." you just roll your eyes when he says that. "If I say no, I'll be lying."

And that was it, that was the trigger for him to get up, pick you up and take you to his room.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask, trying to get down, making him chuckle. "Shit, sweetie, you teased me like hell last night, and now you don't want me to fuck that delicious pussy of yours? You let me finger you and now you don't want me to feel your pussy contracting around my dick like I felt it around my fingers? Damn, you're selfish, huh?" he opens the door to his room, entering and closing it with his foot, placing you on his bed, looking down at you.

You feel your cheeks blush, and you avoid eye contact with him, he certainly notices this, and holds your chin, making you look at him. "Are you embarrassed now? It doesn't even look like you were almost naked in front of me, and rubbing your fucking tits in my face when you went to say goodnight." you bite your lip as he says this, and takes a deep breath, you really didn't expect Negan to react this way so soon, apparently he doesn't even care that you're his best friend's daughter.

"You were a bad girl, you know that? Teasing me like that... Damn, I never thought I'd want to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck you" you couldn't help but end up smirking, licking your lips as you looked at him. Negan pulled you close, kissing you with so much intensity that surprised you, but you quickly kissed him back, moaning into the kiss when his tongue touched yours. He makes you lie down on bed, and he climbed on top of you, kissing you violently, while his hands hungrily explored your body, making you moan and squirm when he gave your right breast a hard squeeze. The man pull away from the kiss by biting your bottom lip hard, and he starts to attack the skin of your neck, sucking it, leaving red marks all over your neck and throat. He quickly removes your shirt, biting his lip as he sees your bare torso.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so fucking beautiful." he sighs, before sucking one of your breasts while his hand massaged the other, he did it in a delirious way, your pussy desperate for his touch once again, as it gets wetter and wetter with every little thing he does to you.

"Negan, please..." you whispered, and he looks at you.

"Please what, doll?"

"F-fuck me, please..."

Negan chuckles, shaking his head.

"Don't think I'm going to do it before I fuck that pretty little mouth of yours..."

You moan at his words, imagining what it would be like to suck his dick, and you smiled.

"Let me suck you then, please, I want to taste you."

He smiled, there's no way he could deny a request like that, especially since you look so pretty asking for it. Then, Negan gets up, and you quickly do the same, kneeling in front of him, "Goddamn baby, are you that desperate for me?" you nod quickly, clumsily opening the button on his pants as he took off his jacket and t-shirt, throwing them on the bed. He had to help you remove hid pants, as your hands were shaking, making him more turned on than ever to see you so desperate to suck him.

As you pull down his pants, you see his dick almost slipping out of his underwear, and you quickly take off that last piece of clothing, his dick almost hits your face, and your mouth waters when you see it, he really wasn't lying when he talked about how big his dick was, you didn't know if you'd be able to make it all fit in your mouth.

You licked the tip, staring into his eyes, which sparkled as he looked back at you. You licked his entire length, and sucked the pink tip gently, making him let out a sigh. You spat on his dick, letting your saliva run from the head to the base, and began to slowly masturbate him, sometimes licking the head, teasing him, but you saw that he was getting impatient with so much teasing and little real action, so you take as much of his cock as you could in your mouth, and he moaned softly, grabbing your hair. You knew he would want to control it, so you opened your lips in an O shape and now he could make you suck him the way he wanted.

The hold on your hair became tighter, and he began to move his hips back and forth slowly, fucking your mouth. You didn't take your eyes off his. Negan quickly increased his speed, but he wasn't going deep enough to choke you, well, not yet.

He stopped for a few seconds, letting you run your tongue all over his cock again, and then he started moving again. His tip started to hit the back of your throat, and he stopped, forcing his cock deep, making you choke and your eyes water, but he didn't take it off, you tried to make him move away, but you couldn't, he stayed like that for a few more seconds, and took his dick out of your mouth, making you take a deep breath, still looking at him.

You kissed the head of his cock, and once again he fucked your mouth, his balls hitting your chin, while his tip reached the back of your throat, until you got used to it and stopped gagging. The noises he made were like music to your ears, he moaned hoarsely and praised you, pulling your hair hard.

When his orgasm hit him, he left his dick buried in your throat, his cum filling your mouth and you swallowed it all. He took his dick from your lips, and lifted you up, holding your chin. "Open your mouth for me, sweetie." you obeyed, and he smiled proudly, "That's it, darling, you swallowed it all", he kissed you deeply, feeling his own taste in your mouth, but he broke the kiss too quickly, biting his lips as he looked at you.

"Lie face up on the bed." you obeyed again, he opened your legs and removed your sweatpants, looking at the puddle in your panties.

"Damn, sweetie... You're soaked. That's all for me, huh? How cute." you just nodded, and he teasingly brushed the tip of his dick against your pussy, which was unfortunately still covered by your panties.

"Negan..." you're almost begging.

"What, princess?"

"P-please..."

"Please what? Use your words."

"Fuck me, fuck me until I can't barely walk." you begged, and he ripped your panties, throwing them away, and penetrated you deep without warning, making you feel like you've been torn apart, and you moan with him.

"Damn baby, you're exactly how I though you would be, so fucking delicious..." he moans, starting to move, not caring if it was hurting you or not, because he knows that that annoying pain will soon become immense pleasure.

He picked up the pace quickly, thrusting into you deep and hard, almost drooling as he heard your moans and saw your breasts swaying in rhythm with his thrusts.

He leaned over you, getting into a position that made him hit your g-spot again and again, making you almost scream as he was going as fast as he could. You hugged him, and he began to leave marks on your neck as he fucked you violently, one hand on one of your breasts and the other holding your hip so hard that it would mark you.

You feel a delicious and somewhat desperate feeling in your stomach, your orgasm coming quickly, making you bite his shoulder hard while scratching his back, your liquids dripping down his cock, making him moan as your pussy got even wetter now.

Your breaths were labored, and just by the way he moaned and fucked you, not caring that you had just reached your peak, you realized he was close too.

He went to take his dick out of you when the time was coming, but you didn't let him, you want him to cum inside you.

"What a naughty girl, do you want me to fill you up?" you nodded desperately, looking deep into his eyes, and so he did, He continued fucking you until he came and filled you, making you throw your head back at the sensation.

He slowly came out of you, and took two of his fingers to your pussy, taking some of his cum that was mixed with your juices, and brought it to your lips, you opened them, and sucked his fingers, tasting your mixed fluids.

He smirked, and looked at your pussy, his cum dripping from it, and he pushed back inside.

"Keep my cum inside you, sweetie." you just nodded, looking at him, his hair is wet, and his breathing labored, just like yours.

He lay down next to you, and you quickly hugged him, resting your head on his chest, sighing.

"That was so fucking wrong" you muttered, and he nodded, shruging.

"It was, but I don't give a fuck."

"Yeah, me neither."

#the walking dead #twd #jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan smut #negan smith smut #twd smut #negan smith #smut #twd negan #twd x reader #negan x reader

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bowieandqueen11 · 8 months

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Love For You / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I just found your ao3 account a few days ago and your writing style is excellent! Legitimately some of the most visual and evocative writing I've seen on that website, and I've been devouring your izzy hands fics since I caught up on season two! Can I request another izzy x reader post-amputation and just the reader caring for him while he's pining hard? Maybe the reader has some medical experience so they've been able to help him a little better than the rest of the crew, making sure he's taking time to heal in a difficult moment (physically as well as emotionally, god knows he needs that.) Letting him know he's loved and him realizing he hasn't...heard someone say that to him or treat him this gently in a long time

Thank you so much that's so kind of you to say, it's so lovely people finding me from AO3!! Honestly one of the best feelings, and goodness knows Izzy needs this :)

Okay so I haven't been able to watch the new season so all my knowledge is coming from Tumblr gifs and posts, so I really hope this isn't too ooc my lovely!! Anyway let's get this man some comfort!

I spent all day writing this, so all comments are much appreciated! Thank you! :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury, mentions of physical abuse, mention of smoking, kissing and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Something monstrous seemed to be creeping up the shuddering walls.

No, it wasn't the stifling silence that had seemed to envelop those of Blackbeard's crew still left, hiding their heads between their legs and closing their eyes as they felt the quicksand drain out through the fingers. Nor was it the creaking organ snore of Wee John thrumming up the timber; the rest of your usually upbeat crew grew despondent as they wracked their brains together and came up with a way to save you all from imminent demise, having flopped onto their sides and fallen into fitful sleeps just before sunset. Sadly it wasn't even the feel of Lucius' finger stroking yours through the cold grates of your jail, his smile lost and forlorn as he thumped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well, feeling even more entrapped in himself than you did.

It was, in fact, the hard glare Izzy Hands was shooting into the side of your face. He hadn't spoken a word since Stede had left, choosing instead to let out the odd sniffle from his corner bucket and busy himself by watching you like a man possessed: like something wild, something smothering itself in the shadows to stop its howling heart from devouring the light around itself. From tearing his dagger out of his scabbard and devouring his heart himself with clawed hooks. He looked ghastly, and he looked gargantuan as the life seemed to convulse within him, leeching out and darting its tongue around the creaking wood until it filled up the room and began to fill your heart up with a hope you thought had been lost weeks ago.

He looked beautiful and proud and defeated and assured in spite of it all, and you were finally beginning to understand why Zheng Yi Sao had locked him away in this cage.

And in a way, it terrified you that this cataclysmic, lucent shadow was creeping its merry way straight for you.

The tenebrosity was quickly broken by Izzy's shining eyes gliding across the bridge of your nose to land instead on your top lip. He wasn't entirely sure why exactly he was feeling so timid. It wasn't as if Frenchie was still awake, as he was too busy hugging his free arm around the remaining muscle of Izzy's thigh and burying his head into the muscle with a soft murmur of contentment. Yet the idea of being caught leering at you like a dopey boy was enough to make him judder with embarrassment, and enough to send Frenchie's head keeling sideways so his lips were rammed up against his trousers.

Thankfully, it was exactly Frenchie's floppy head that gave away the fact that he was fast asleep, and allowed you to steal Izzy away for yourself. With a gentle lift, you were quick to replace your friend's cheek with your own hand, giving the side of Izzy's thigh a reassuring squeeze.

'You look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders', you sighed as you took in Izzy's harrowing form. It wasn't his paleness that worried you, or the redness that cracked and splintered around his irises. It was the way he was watching you, eyes trained steadily on your face for the last hour and a half, as if he were doing his best to memorise everything he could before he ran out of time. As if he would never have the chance to look at you again.

The edges of his lips curled up, and he thumped his head back against the wall. 'Me? I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Never been better. Why do you ask?'

'Well', you began as softly as you could, straining to reach the vials in your hip knapsack to retrieve some salve for the scarring that had begun to pucker around his skin. 'We are about to be executed. I guess I just wanted you to know this is a safe space to let it all out before we are. A confessional of sorts, if a little makeshift.'

He wet his bottom lip as his eyes darted down to you, confused.

You pointedly looked him in the eyes, before unscrewing the vial and dipping your pointer finger in. Making sure he didn't seem too uncomfortable, you leant forwards as innocuously as you could, trying not to startle him anymore than he already had been. With a swipe, you began to rub the herb mixture around the sore looking welts left around his cut leg, making a point to run your fingertips soothingly over the goose-bumps that began to rise at the feel of you against him.

'I wanted you to know- to know that you're always safe around your crew.' You did your best not to let your voice tremble, no matter how much your throat tried to choke you. You turned your head back down to his leg, trying to hide the fact that your mouth was crumpling in on itself.

He winced as your hand brushed against a tender point, and you ran the back of your knuckles over his skin in apology. He felt like he was burning alive: a fire blazing so furiously in the pit of his stomach he was sure it was gushing out, swinging around the room and warning everyone of his impending falter as he fell upon the crags of your fingers below. He had no idea how, in all the seas, you couldn't possibly see how ecstatically devastated he was to be sitting here with you.

He didn't mind dying. He wasn't scared of it. As long as you were there to enhalo his misty light in the end. As long as you were there to love him until his last breath. As long as, no matter what form he took, you were still enclosed around his heart.

'Who says I have anything to confess?', he glanced at you with heavy eyelashes, eyes bleary but sharp as he started straight into your soul. I don't have to confess it, he thought, it's so fucking painfully obvious.

How could he confess something so inexplicable? Something that wrapped around all of his bones, that wormed its way into parts of himself he thought long numb: long lost. How could someone ever articulate the feeling of life itself? It was insurmountable, far too transcendent, too impetuous for mortals to to unsnarl into words.

'Oh Izzy', you said, mouth falling into a frown at the way his hips reflexively bucked up at the feel of a new cream being slathered around his leg to try and numb the pain. He moaned, trying to mask the sound by clenching his fist into his mouth and biting desperately into his knuckles. One more touch, and he was about to fall apart. 'Your eyes are drowning in so many regrets I can barely see the stars in them anymore.'

He huffed out a laugh, looking at you with incredulous, wild eyes. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he let it rest, still clenched, by his quivering chin. 'Not in my eyes. You never could. That's not possible. Not me.'

'I could.' You were quick to reply. 'I always could. You're our guiding light, Israel Hands.'

Oh boy, if he wasn't devastated before he sure was now. His face fell immediately, and for a moment you felt your heart ache with a sore regret at the silvery tears that began to cloud in the crinkles of his eyes. But then he does something that surprised even you.

The way he opened his legs up was almost miniscule: too small for anyone who didn't know this man's quirks and intricacies and giveaways to notice, but a well aimed shot that sent a rush of heat prickling up your cheeks. Before he changed his mind and retreated into himself again, you were quick to scoot your backside over and come to rest far too intimately between the tightening leather of his inner thighs.

'You can't be surprised that we care about you', he started after a moment of comfortable silence, leaning the side of your head to rest gingerly on his intact leg. 'That the whole crew has always cared about you. Look, someone even got you a mop-', you gestured to his side, trying to make him laugh before the sun rises, and thankfully you succeeded.

He shook his head out as if trying to refocus himself as his chuckle died out in his chest. He didn't want to laugh right now. He wanted to focus on the weight on his leg: on the feel of your nose brushing on the length of seam running up to his groin. He blinked back heavy tears that spread along his lashes, sniffling coarsely. He probably should laugh, he thought. He should be fucking howling, spitting, going rabid at the irony that the one thing he had been yearning his whole life was lying right there on his lap, and he only had a few hours left in his pathetic life to savour it.

'How are you doing, by the way? Seriously', you jolt your head up to watch him quizzically. He did his best not to meet your eye, choosing instead to stare at the black grains above Jim's slumped head. 'After, you know, everything that happened with Ed-'

'You don't need to worry about me', he sniffed, but his hand twitched as he lifted it up to rest on his thigh, just above the top of your head. 'It's my job to worry about all of you. Not the other way round.'

'When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we want to worry about you. This isn't some kind of weird mandate or self-preservation tactic on our part Izzy. You may be a fucking idiot, but you're our fucking idiot. Let us take care of you too, like you've been looking out for us.'

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head beginning to shake furiously enough to send his stray silver locks clambering over his eyes. He was glad for their cover, so he wouldn't have to see the way you had lurched forward: the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, as you rose onto your knees and pressed your hands firmly around his waist, just where the joint of his legs met the soft squish of his tummy.

'Don't you shake your head at me. We all know you've been trying to direct Blackbeard's anger your way. We do!' You cocked your head, trying to follow his face as he squirmed in your grasp. Losing your patience, you gripped his jaw with your thumb and pointer finger, directing Izzy's widening eyes back your way. 'We do, Izzy. We know what you've been doing for us. What you've been sacrificing. And I'm sorry - I'm sorry that none of this is fair. I'm sorry that any of this happened at all.'

One. Two. You tapped your finger a third time, your fingernail swirling over the fine nuances of the holster running over his sawed leg.

It had always been your little secret: a shared confidence, between you and Izzy. One tap. Two. Three on each other's arms after battles, three taps there on your shoulder before you went down to your bunk, three fleeting touches burning at the back of his spine to let him know that you were alright: to let him know that he was alright.

You only stopped when you heard a brisk inhale: a sharp whistle that broke through your indulgent repose and made Roach roll over. Thankfully, a moment later, the cook's arm was splayed out across the floor again, and his leg kicked out backwards with a swift jolt up poor Button's behind. Izzy, though. Izzy, despite the surprising tenderness of the moment, was almost smouldering. The muscle by the side of his femur began to writhe underneath just the point of your fingertip, the feeling of just your warmth making him feel too feeble. Too needy to even control the rest of his body; he desperately tried to reach out a hand to shove your shoulder back and push you away, but his mind was too busy swimming with the concentration of trying to remember how to inhale.

The sharp breaths he dragged in painfully were starting to worry you, as were the wracks of his spine as he seemed to writhe backwards and forwards, back arching off the wall before collapsing back down on itself painfully again.

He felt your hand clench around his back, guiding him to sit still again. You were close, far too close - your noses almost touching, as you took a risk and used your free hand to slowly.... god, so fucking slowly he felt like he was going to split in half. He looked like a wounded animal: something terrified of being hurt as his eyes stayed trained on your approaching fingers, face wary until your fingertips touched his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

And then he felt that warmth. That warmth against the shell of his ear. He bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood, and for once, he was glad for the taste. It was comforting. Familiar. Deserved. He wasn't one for the fucking heartache of tenderness. And god, how his heart ached.

'Come on,' you nestled yourself between his legs again and perched your elbow up on his left leg. 'People must have cared about you before. Might as well get it all out in the open. Be honest with each other now.'

He paused, before the stubbornness wormed its way in again. 'No, they haven't-'

'Well, what about your parents? Your parents must have been kind. Besides, the crew obviously cares about you. I obviously care about you. Stop being so pig-headed.''

He startled you with a laugh: he seemed to choke on it, his teeth baring as he barked it out, yet he still couldn't seem to look at you quite yet. That's alright. You had an eternity left in these few hours.

Kindness?

He couldn't remember a time before joining Stede's crew that he had ever felt such a thing, let alone let it fester in the crevices of his ribcage until he felt the dreaded thing was going to claw its way out. Perhaps, if he let himself fester in the silence for a moment, an image of his mother would squirm its way out of his long repressed memories. Clawing and scratching and digging her pointed nails to dig her way out. No, his mother had never offered him a jot of comfort. She could stay buried in that coffin he had stuffed her down into, instead of rotting inside of him. He had enough barnacles to scrape off his body as it was.

It wasn't as if he had any surprisingly sweet memories of his life before. His mother had never been one for grace: her words always bit at his brain like a frenzied tempest, his actions never good enough. Once, when he was six years old, he had tottered up before the sun rose and followed his older brother down to the docks, trying to please his mother. Even so young, he had spent most of his years yearning to be seen as anything but the 'nuisance' or 'pest' his mother used to spit at his feet, and yearned to return with a line full of fish to please her. To help her with the chores that she always yammered his father had left her to rot with. Had left him. That he rotted away her youth. When he came slinking into the doorway, a nervous smile twitching at his ruddy cheeks, his mother had taken one look at the muddy, damp fringes of his trousers and had slapped him clean across the face for his troubles.

Another part of him remembered her warmth. The same that radiated off your palm as you spread your fingers across his knee; the way she would sometimes scutter into his bed at night, and he could smell the harsh sting of alcohol on her breath as she curled up and hugged him close against her chest. Of the way she would sometimes let him sit on her knee once the three of them had returned home after service, and she would brush back his growing hair and he would curl himself up to chase the stray ray of sunlight that glowed against her neck.

It had left him a Gordian mess of a man. Simultaneously spending his life seeking any kind of validation, any kind of affection, while his stubborn self-preservation did its best to push everyone away.And yet here you came, watching him with those sweet, sad eyes. Swinging the sword to undo him.

'I don't remember much about them', he replied curtly, but not unkindly. 'My father left us when I was young. I was... mainly left to my own devices.'

You nod slowly, letting his words thinking in. Letting the misery drenching every seething heave of his tongue wash over your head. 'Well', you began to rub your thumb in circles against his trousers, 'at least you have us here now. One good thing to add to the pile.'

There we go. The knot's slowly being undone.

You tried to smile, but the intensity of his gaze falling on you again unsettled you.

'You're right.' His voice was far too earnest for his own good. 'I have had one good thing in my life. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

You nearly jolted when you felt his hand smack down on top of yours. He had closed his eyes to try and hide himself from his discomfort, but his gloved fingers still slid between yours and squeezed despite himself. Once he was assured they were firmly intertwined: his own grasping tight enough to bust the leather at the stitching, he dared himself to finish his train of thought before he lost his nerve.

'I do... I do care about the crew. None of this was their fault, and they shouldn't have been fucking blamed for it. But I- I, I care about someone else far more than all of this twatty lot put together.'

It's a whisper into the darkness. A despairing yell of defiance against the solitude. A smothered light, long lingering and far longer forgotten. A spark of hope against the threat of ruination. It was a silver tear, glinting like starlight against his iris and falling with a content plop onto the back of your hand.

'I-I-', he stuttered out, clenching his teeth as he wills himself not to cry. 'I-'

The words refused to unlatch from his throat. Luckily, you were adept enough to notice the longing that drew a sad ache across his face.

'Izzy, I-'

'Let me finish', he stumbled out, his whole face now contorting as he struggled with the weight of it all. His bottom lip began to wobble against his will, face falling in on itself.

'I have-I have... love. For you. 'What I'm trying to say is'-, he shakes his head, chiding himself.

'Izzy, I know, it's alright. I know. I understand.' You grabbed tighter onto the back of your hand, enveloping it with your free one until his stopped shaking, begging him to realise you could see him.

'No-. No. If I don't say it now, I'm worried I never will.'

'Take your time, take your time. We have all the time in the world'. A sob finally gasped out from Izzy, chest heaving as he felt you draw his hands up towards your mouth. Still safe. Still warm. Still firmly cupped between your own, but the feel of your lips brushing against his knuckles was enough to send him reeling. The gentle peck that followed, though, was enough to finally let him break free.

A tentative finger reached out, checking for any signs of repulsion before landing awkwardly to point into the blade of your shoulder. He seemed to freeze: immobile marble frozen in fear as he seemed unaware as to what to next. After a few wary blinks, he clumsily spent a few seconds trying to manoeuvre the rest of his arm to cross across your back, before tugging your torso to lean closer towards him.

For a moment, it finally seems as if the world has skittered upright on his axis again. It felt normal. It felt right, feeling him grow comfortable with affection again as he melted, for the second time that week, into your hug. For his sake, as he burrowed his head into the pulse point of your neck until his stubble began to tickle your collar bone, you pretended not to hear the maimed whimpers that struggled past his closed lips.

The only time he moved was to raise his head up towards your nose, bumping it playfully against the tip of your own. Then another graze. A rub, and then another one, his eyes the whole time languidly drawn down to stare at your cupid's bow, until he slowly brought himself down to breathe unsteadily against your mouth. After a final moment of contemplation, he blinked placidly before closing his eyes and tilting his head to close the miniscule distance between the two of you.

His jaw was tense as you ran your finger down it, so busy trying to commit to his memory the pressure of your lips against his bottom one that he was forgetting to breath. But he didn't pull away. In fact, his hand clamped around your neck, digging almost painfully into your back as he stumblingly latched onto you, forcing himself further against your opening mouth. His hand found solace by cupping the back of your skull, chest squeezed against your breasts as he opened his lips and almost devoured you whole.

A loud 'awww!' erupted from your side, making the two of you jolt apart. The only problem was, Izzy's bottom lip had been rather firmly attached to yours. This meant that as you drew back, Izzy, in his stubborn unwillingness to let you go, let his bottom lip drag down along your inner mouth until a line of saliva connected your bottom lips, which only made the person the other side of the brig giggle even louder.

'You guys are cute', Black Pete yawned with a wakening stretch.

'Yes!', Roach chimed in as he teddy bear rolled his lanky legs round in front of him. 'I swear!', he continues, ostentatiously wiping his finger underneath his eye, 'I must be crying! I'm two seconds away from going up there and commencing our escape myself.'

With a tilt of your head that hit Izzy's chin, you looked at the cook incredulously. Izzy only gazed down at you past the crook of his nose, wonderstruck as the he let the words wash over his head.

'You. You really think you can take on all those very competent pirates up there.'

'Of course!'

'You cried for twenty minutes earlier about soup!'

Roach waved his hand unconvincingly in front of his face. 'Broth, it was broth! But I'm great with knives, remember! I have one hidden in my underwear right now!'

'Why... why is it in your underwear?', Oluwande piped in as he rested his head on the side of a barrel.

'Yeah, you weren't captured', Archie added, shuffling her own head off Jim's shoulder to look out past the bars. 'Why isn't it, I don't know, in your pocket or something.'

Even though Roach has opened his mouth to answer, his train of thought is broken by the tired grumble of another one of your friends. 'I hate to admit it, but that was actually very sweet', Lucius chimed in, twisting his lips into a shit-eating grin as he eyed the both of you up, another cigarette now firmly tucked in and freshly lit between his fingers as he took a drag.

'Is everyone on this fucking boat awake?!', Izzy cried, wrapping a hand protectively around your shoulder joint.

You snorted, burying your head protectively against the soft skin of his bellybutton. The sound of the crew beginning to argue with an increasingly impatient Izzy was like music to your ears; the monster was beginning to retreat.

No longer did it hang and shake and pierce the walls with its talons until it bled umbras. It retreated: chased away by the comely love of your crew. Of your family. Of the man who held you protectively against him, blinding you with his tender love.

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