#Cherry 🍒

[iamthatonefangirl]

oh look it's me again but uh winter soldier with an exhibitionism kink👀

-🍒

I love u queen

public - nsfw winter soldier

okay so obviously these two are so fucking weird but I really want to explore this fuck ass relationship dynamic, so that’s kind of what I’m doing here. for the sake of writing this scene the way I want to, assume they've never been out in public together before.

fully consensual by both parties although not explicitly stated. pre-established relationship.

~~~

when he grabbed your hand and started dragging you to the bedroom, you assumed you knew exactly what was about to go down.

except when you got there, he didn't immediately pull you into bed. he let go of your hand halfway through the room and walked over to the closet, leaving you stunned. what was he doing?

in a second, he was throwing something at you. you quickly grabbed whatever he'd tossed to you, some article of clothing, and you looked down at it to unfold it.

your little black dress?

you confusedly looked up at him for confirmation, and he nodded, pointing to it.

okay, so he wanted to fuck you while you were wearing the dress, apparently.

~~~

you were way off, apparently.

he wouldn't just tell you what he wanted, of course he wouldn't. when did he ever...

so after you finally realized you were going out, you were floored. he grumbled something about going to a bar, confusing the hell out of you.

so you decided to treat it like any other night out, do your makeup real heavy, thick eyeliner and dark lipstick. you could almost hear his whole body stiffen when he saw you all done up.

so you could still surprise him.

~~~

he took you a fairly decent bar, not one of those dingy crapholes you imagine he might go to while out on a job, looking for whatever sustenance he could find while working.

but still shoddy enough for him to be seen there.

that's when you knew for fact that there was an ulterior motive. sure, there always was with him, but now?

what was the plan here?

he didn't like to be seen, but he seemed to want to show you off. his hand never left your waist once, from the second you walked out the door until the point you ordered your drinks. and even then, he still held you like someone would try to take you from him.

regardless, he wanted the sprinkling of men in the bar to see you. to see that you were all dolled up, dressed nicer than anyone else there, and you were his.

so it's a power trip, you think. to have power over the other men in the room, that he had something they could look at but couldn't touch; could desire but couldn't have. to have the power of knowing he owns you, not only within the walls you live in, but everywhere you go.

you'd never seen him like this before.

you soaked up every second of it, of being the only person he directed any attention to in a room full of people. of finally having the chance to somewhat show off that you were, in fact, taken.

since you'd never have the chance to have a normal relationship with him.

you basked in it as long as you could.

~~~

he watched you every second, like a hawk.

he eyed you when you put on the dress, as you did your makeup so boldly, as you stepped out of the black taxicab. he watched you.

he knew this was a bad idea. he knew being seen in public with you was a bad idea.

but he had an idea in his head, and he wasn't going to back down now. so he plotted it perfectly.

over the course of one or two drinks each, you slowly meandered over to a darker corner of the room, far more sparse with people. men's gazes finally drifted away from you, focusing back on their beers, drowning their thoughts and forgetting entirely about you.

when he pushed you up against the wall, holding you by the hips, you knew.

he's about to pull something. in public.

"James, no," you hiss, holding your glass close to your chest and looking around the room for any onlookers. you found none, and looked back into his eyes.

you'd gotten good at reading him, a man of little expression and even fewer words. you had to given how little he spoke.

so when you looked in his eyes, you knew. he wanted this, but he wouldn't do something so bold without you agreeing.

this is stupid, you think. a terrible, horrible idea...

it's arguably even stupider that you're already out in public together, being seen together. granted, there were no security cameras in the place (something he'd taught you to look for) and nobody that appeared to be suspicious (something you knew he looked for everywhere he went).

so you looked around the room once more before setting down your glass and inching both of your bodies closer into the dark corner. you pulled his chest flush against yours.

and then his hands were on your thighs, trailing up underneath the fabric that left little to the imagination.

this was stupid. he was being reckless.

but he was still a trained... don't think about that.

he's trained for the worst of the worst. if it wasn't safe, he wouldn't do this, wouldn't put you in danger.

at least, that's what you try to tell yourself when your breath hitches. you try to hold it to keep yourself from making any noise as he touches you.

a metal hand comes to grope at your chest, and you swallow down a moan before it can escape your lips. he notices, obviously, and gives you a small nod to laud you for it.

he's on edge, you can tell. still listening to everything happening in the room, prepared for anything that might happen. prepared to get you both the hell out of there at any second should he need to.

his slight distraction makes him act more gently. he eases the hem of your dress up your legs ever so slowly, making only the slightest of adjustments.

his hand on your chest touches you over your dress, pinching at your skin through the thin material to softly rile you up.

this is a bad idea.

this is so fucking hot.

his fingers trail up your inner thighs, gently kicking one of your feet to the side only enough for him to get his hand between your legs. he teases, his fingertips barely making contact with your skin. it's only enough to tickle you, and it makes you shudder the more he does it.

he lays his mouth against your collarbone, placing a bite just enough to surprise you, while his fingers move from your thighs to find where you're not wearing any panties under your dress.

you're sure you feel him smirk against you.

you scan around the room again as he begins to tease, gently testing how tight you are, how wet and ready you are for him.

there's nobody watching, not that you know of. this corner is so dark, and there's not that many people here, and...

he slowly sinks two fingers inside of you, in a room full of half-drunk men you can't trust. in fucking public.

yet there's something about this that you might never get enough of. maybe it's the adrenaline, or it's the feeling of knowing you're the only one he would do this to. the proof that this is real, he is yours.

you decide it's the adrenaline rush.

you lay your head back against the wall as he sucks a hickey over your collarbone, fingers moving so delicately in and out of you, trying to make sure you're making next to no sound between your legs or from your lips.

you do a pretty good job of keeping your composure, you think, as you let him fuck you with his fingers against the wall of a literal bar. he keeps sucking hickeys across your chest above the neckline of your dress, leaving proof that this happened, so you'll both have a reminder for the next week of the crazy, sexy stunt you pulled.

you're never doing this again, you think.

but you're fucking loving letting him do this to you while the rest of the world seems to go about their lives, having no clue of what's going on right under their noses.

his fingers work in perfect rhythm, controlling whatever he can in such an uncontrolled environment.

"gonna come?" he whispers into your ear. it's so low you almost don't hear it, but you understand the sentiment. you nod and whisper, "more," into his ear, hoping no one else hears and catches on.

he gets the point, rubbing his thumb over your clit, now paying close attention to your face.

"my name. when you come," he whispers to you.

all the attempts to be quiet, to keep this dirty secret between the two of you right now, and yet he's still asking you to affirm his claim on you. even while you let him defile you in public, he stills wants the audible confirmation that you're his.

so you dig your fingers into his hair while you're holding him in place in front of you to preserve some of your dignity. he lets you dig your nails into his scalp as you summon all the self-control in your body.

"James," you whisper, little more than an exhale, and you shudder against the wall while you bite down on your lip, refusing to make another noise as you come harder than ever before.

this is the hottest thing he's ever seen, he thinks.

mission accomplished. this is what he wanted, to do this to you right here, tonight.

but he didn't anticipate the thrill being so... enticing.

he grabs your hand in his metal one, leading you across the room, back into the gaze of every man here, and drags you out the door.

you barely fix your dress to cover your modesty before you're in the light again, and you're pretty sure you watch him suck his fingers clean in front of everyone.

you're barely out the door, expecting him to hail a cab, but you're once again proven wrong. it's been a night of nothing but surprises, clearly.

he pulls you by the hand down the road and into a dark, creepy alley on the side of the building where the bar is.

he just can't get enough of this.

he hauls you further into the shadows, and you think you see a rat run by when he pushes you up against the hard brick, holding your head in one hand so it doesn't hit the wall.

he's scrambling, overwhelmed with the desire to take you right here, right now. his hands yank and pull at his belt buckle, trying to hurry up and fuck you already.

your hands are immediately on his, helping him shove fabric to the side before hiking your dress up and wrapping a leg around him to give him easy access.

his metal hand returns to hold your head, his other tightly gripping your leg in place around him, and then he's pushing inside you harshly. this time, you make no efforts to conceal the loud breaths and noises he's evoking from you, and you moan uncontrollably as he rails you in this dark alley in god only knows where.

you can tell he's far more riled up than usual, less worried about taking the time to fuck you properly and more worried about getting you both off. he's growling and heaving, even letting out small little whines every here and there that he'll never admit to, chasing after a climax you're both desperate for.

you get so caught up in the thrill, in the idea of what you're doing and hot wrong but how hot it is, and you're not even aware when you fall apart. your orgasm hits you like a truck, out of nowhere, and you cling to him all while sobbing his name loudly.

"fuck," he hisses when he buries himself in you once last time before letting go, filling you until the point you feel him dripping down your inner thighs while still buried inside you.

you stay like that for a while, catching your breath, the heat of the moment passing and making you realize the reality of what just happened.

you look up to meet his gaze. you want to be appalled, disgusted by what you both just did.

but there's not a single regret between the two of you.

~~~

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[littlestarryagere]

valentine’s day at school ♡ㅤᵕ̈

⠀

[allisluv]

prepare for a few djats requests. meeting graham in a record store and him asking us to come to his show?? :)

cherry bomb.

pairing: graham dunne x fem!reader

content warnings: meet-cute, misogyny (not from graham), flirting/ teasing, reader's nickname is cherry and reader works in a record store.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i'm lowkey obsessed with graham lately, so this is the first work in the graham x cherry (reader) universe!! requests are open for any questions/ideas! <3

“Hey, I’m gonna pop out for a coffee with a friend. You’re okay to hold down the fort for a while, right?” Andrew shrugs his jacket on, making it very clear that he has every intention of leaving, with or without your permission. 

You have to fight the urge to snap back with a smart remark. “That depends.” 

Andrew scoffs. “On what, exactly?”

“Well, how long is a little while?” You muse aloud. 

“Jesus,” Andrew mumbles. “Didn’t realise I was on the clock here.”

“You’re at work,” You deadpan.

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m well aware of that. But your type are always complaining that us men don’t trust you to do things for yourself. Here I am, giving you the perfect opportunity to do so, and what do you do? You throw it back in my face.” He braces his hands against the countertop. “So, I’ll ask again. Can you mind the shop or do you need me to hold your hand?” 

Said hand itches to reach out and smack him across the face. “Just go.” 

Andrew seems to take your answer as a win rather than you getting fed up with him, and he offers you a smug smile.

You flip him off as he walks out of the store. The bell at the top of the doorframe nearly comes loose with how hard he slams the door shut, and you have to fight the impulse to chase after him and give him a well-deserved piece of your mind. 

“What a bastard.” 

Your brows raise as you follow the sound of the voice. Your eyes land on a tall guy, maybe six foot, with a messy mop of curls on the top of his head.

He scoffs, leaning his weight against the cash register, and shakes his head in disbelief. "I swear, some people are so entitled, it's unbelievable." With one last glare in the direction of the door, he turns to you, gaze softening as a crooked smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’m Graham.”

You nod and give him your name.

Graham grins, and bats his lashes at you like a love-sick teenager. “Ah. A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Flirt.”

“Guilty.” He shrugs.

You smile despite yourself. “So… Graham. What’s a guy like you do for a living?”

“Well, apart from saving a damsels in distress?”

“Obviously.” You play along.

He smiles and two dimples carve their way into the skin around his mouth. “I’m in a band.”

You cant deny that your interest is piqued now. You lean against the countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand. “A band, you say. What’s your band’s name?”

“The Six. But you’d probably know us as Daisy Jones and The Six.”

“Never heard of them,” You lie.

“Bullshit.”

“What do you play?”

“Apart from twenty-one questions?” He chuckles when you fix him with a look. “I play lead guitar.”

“You guys any good?”

“Why don’t you come see for yourself?” You watch curiously as he starts patting down the back pocket of his blue denim jeans. A small noise of triumph slips past his lips as he brandishes about a laminated ticket. “Here. For you.”

You arch a sharp brow but take the ticket from him, anyway. “You make a habit of carrying one of these around with you?”

“You can never be too prepared.” Graham smiles and offers you a wink. Your heart does a flip in your chest, and you shake your head fondly. “It’s a VIP.” He explains. “If you stick around after, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What makes you so sure I’m going to come? I’ve just met you.”

“Is that a no?” You’re quiet and he grins before tapping the wooden countertop and waltzing in the direction of the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

And with that, he’s gone.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

You don’t know what possesses you to actually go to the conccert. Maybe it’s because he caught your attention earlier in the record shop. Or maybe it’s because he’s cute. Either way, you find a spot by the front of the stage and re-tie the front of your bell-sleeve top to pass the time.

As soon as the lead singers come on stage, the crowd erupts into applause so loud that you wonder if it might burst your delicate eardrums. Once the musicans have adjusted the microphones to suit their differing heights, the rest of the band file out.

Grahams eyes immediately search the VIP section for you, and he offers you a wink when he spots you in the crowd. You roll your eyes in return, but you can’t help the warmth that creeps into your cheeks or the wry smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.

Daisy speaks into the microphone and welcomes the crowd as Graham, the pianist, the bassist and the drummer all take their respective spots on stage. “So how are we feeling tonight?” She asks and the crowd responds by screaming. She smiles like a cheshire cat. “That’s what I like to hear!”

Within seconds, the drummer has counted them in and they’ve launched into their first song. You recoginse it from the charts— Aurora, you think it’s called. You sing along and sway to the music, trying to ignore the way Graham’s gaze pierces a hole through you.

At one point, you flip him the finger subtly, but all he does is laugh into his microphone and shrug his shoulders when the male lead shoots him a quizzical look.

Their songs roll into each other effortlessly and by the time “The River” has started playing, you have given up on pretending like you didn’t know who they were altogether.

Daisy thanks everyone for coming as their setlist comes to a close and she throws one of her many necklaces into the crowd, where people start to fight and claw at each other over it.

You chuckle to yourself and true to your word, hang around until the venue starts to empty. There are still thousands of people mulling around when you hear a quiet, “psst!”, from one of the stage doors.

Spinning on your heel, you turn to see Graham peeking his head out of the door and pointing at you. “Let her through,” he says to the security guards, who must be getting paid far too much to argue with him, as they part like the red sea and hurry you through.

Graham grins as he ushers you through the door and closes it behind you. The sound is muffled from back here, and he leans against the wall with a smug smile on his face. “Never heard of them my ass.”

You grin. “Didn’t want any of y’all getting a bigger ego than you already have.”

Graham presses a hand to his heart in faux offence. “All have you know, my brothers the one with the ego problem. Not me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.”

He laughs. “You have a backbone. I like that. You’re like a firecracker.” He clicks his fingers. “A cherry bomb. That’s what I’m gonna call you. Cherry.”

You roll your eyes. “What does that even mean?”

“Forget it, Cherry.”

You bite back a scoff. “You gonna buy me that drink or what?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Will this be counted as our first date or do I have to earn that?”

“Depends.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, let’s get that drink.”

[crashandlivewrites]

@soapsgf and I were feeling gay so we wrote lesbian fics for each other <3

Pairing: fem!Ghost x fem!reader (or rather, stone top butch Ghost x pillow princess reader)

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, mention of a strap, relationship insecurities, Ghost communicating (?!?!), use of daddy one (1) time

Word Count: 2.1k (this was meant to be a drabble oops)

You were cuddled up on the couch late at night in your small flat you shared with your girlfriend, Simone, whenever she was back from deployment. Your hands had slithered their way underneath her jacket and shirt, leeching the warmth from her body as she had one of her muscled arms thrown casually over you, keeping you tucked into her side as her fingers traced mindless patterns over your body.

Playing on the tv was a reality show you enjoyed, yet tonight you weren’t really paying attention to it. Simone had even chimed in a few times, to show her interest in the show for you, but her statements and questions remained unanswered. It wasn’t until something ridiculous happened that would normally have pulled a barking laugh from you that she decided enough was enough.

Switching the tv, she placed a hand over your shoulder, shaking you lightly.

“You gonna tell me what’s been rollin’ in your head since I got home or not, pretty girl?” Her voice startled you, breaking you out of your daydream as you pulled back from her, furrowing your brows.

“What? I’m sorry, wasn’t listening.”

“Clearly.” She gave you a pointed look. “Wanna know what’s on your mind, lovie. You haven’t been right since I got back.”

“Nothing. Just tired. Been a long day.” You tried to dissuade her, waving your hand as you reached over her to take the remote, only to my stopped by her firm fingers on your wrist.

“I’m not stupid, nor blind, love. You haven’t been yourself. You’ve been quiet.”

Cursing inwardly, you looked away from your overly observant girlfriend, trying not to show your discomfort. Of course, she’d noticed the small things that no one else would. Your brows furrowed and you wrung your fingers as you tried to search for the right words. Simone just sat there, a reassuring hand against your shoulder, letting you know she was there to listen. She always was.

“It’s stupid… really, I don’t know why it’s affected me so much.” The hesitancy was evident in your voice, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“It’s not nothing. It’s got you in a tiff.”

“It’s…” You faltered, eyes flicking around the room as you were unable to look at her. Only when her hand reached out to grip your jaw did you force yourself to meet her gaze and continue. “It’s about sex.”

“What about it?”

“I just… don’t you feel left out?” Her brows knitted together, and she angled her head, signalling for you to continue. “I feel like I’m always just lying there when we have sex. I do nothing. You’re doing everything, Simone, including getting me off but not yourself. Don’t you hate that?”

Her hand went soft on your jaw as her thumb stroked your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

“What stupid video have you seen now?” Blinking, you cocked your head and looked at her in bewilderment.

“How did you—”

“Doesn’t take much. Let me guess, some wanker of a broad on tiktok made a video about how pillow princesses are lazy and should do more work, hmm?” Simone leaned forward, getting into your space as you stared at her, dumbfounded.

“But isn’t it true?”

“I think you’re missing the point of the term, princess.” She elongated the term of endearment as her hand ran down your neck. “I like making you feel good. Just you. Besides, the way you sound when you come, who wouldn’t want to hear that?”

Your face heated and you tried to push her away in protest as she smiled, flashing a toothy grin before running her tongue along her lips. Though her words struck a chord with you, there was still some lingering doubts swimming in your head.

You could count the total amount of times you’d gotten her off with your own mouth or fingers on one hand. The queasiness in your stomach, however, didn’t fade with her reassurance.

“Do you not like me in that way?” Your voice was small and filled with shame, as if you already knew the question was stupid, but you couldn’t stop the feeling from clawing its way up. Simone’s eyes softened and her long fingers ran along the back of your head.

“Lovie, it’s not like that. You know it takes me a lot to want to be in the mood to receive. It’s got nothing to do with not wanting you. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But your job is stressful! Surely you’d want some release when you come back?”

“You’re my release, princess.” She whispers, voice lowering as she leans in. “The way you’re so obedient for me, how you spread your legs so eagerly, how wet you get when my fingers barely graze your skin… you’re a fucking sight, princess. And you’re mine.”

The drop in her tone sent a rush of arousal through you. Pursing your lips and squeezing your thighs together, you whine in protest.

“I want to please you!”

“You do fuckin’ please me, lovie. The sight of you on our bed, legs spread open, begging for me to touch you like a good little slut. My good little slut. Makes my head spin. Hearin’ you scream my name as you squirt over my face? A fucking godsend.”

Simone was now shuffling over the couch into your space. You felt the sturdy armrest pressing into your body as you leaned back, face heating and heart thumping. True to her words, your legs were unconsciously spreading for her, accomodating her broad frame as she nestled between your thighs, her large hands caressing your pliant one.

“Simmy…” Your voice was barely above a squeak as she cocked her eyebrow up at you, the smirk on her face deadly.

“What is it, my little princess? What do you need?”

“You.” Simone hummed, shaking her head.

“More specific, princess. You know the rules.” Her hands slid up your thin shirt, tweaking at your nipples and drawing a gasping moan from you.

“Mouth… want your mouth Simmy please.”

“My mouth where?” She pressed, squeezing your tits now in her large hands as her mouth descended on the bare skin of your stomach, pressing soft kisses as she waits for you to reply.

Moaning both in delirious pleasure and frustration, you managed to lift your head up and look down at her with a frown.

“You’re so cruel.” You pouted accusingly at her, and she laughed darkly in response, but she didn’t make any further movements. Not able to resist any longer, you tilted your hips up so they were closer to her mouth. “Want your mouth on my pussy and want you to make me come.”

This time, your girlfriend grinned wickedly, adjusting you both so your legs were thrown over her muscled shoulders.

“My good fucking girl, using her words. Gonna reward you for that.” And she did.

Her lips immediately latched onto your clit after pushing your underwear aside, dragging her tongue up your slit as she moaned, fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs. Moaning into your cunt, she moved down, tongue lapping over your wetness as your fingers wound their way into her hair.

She usually buzzed it short whenever she left for the field, then let it grow. Right now, it was just long enough for you to tug at with your fingers as you cried out her name. Simone had always been godly with her mouth, and tonight was no different.

Tonight, she was taking her time with you, pressing soft kisses over your sensitive flesh, her tongue sliding languidly up your cunt, delving into your wet hole and groaning at your taste.

“So fuckin’ wet f’me lovie. Practically dripping on our couch.” Our couch, she says. You grin amidst the pleasure, thinking about how quickly Simone began to call your home hers as well.

Sucking your clit back into her mouth, she reached down so the pads of her fingers were prodding at your soaked entrance. Clutching at her hair, you rolled your hips, eager to feel the delicious stretch as she pressed her long fingers into you. But she didn’t. Instead, she clicked her tongue and pulled back.

“So greedy tonight, princess. What was all that talk about earlier? Wanting to do all the work? No sweets, you belong here, beneath me writhing and moaning like the little slutty princess you are.”

“Simone.” You whined, rolling your hips once more as your cunt throbbed in need.

“Look at you.” She cooed, grinning salaciously as her eyes raked over your body, clothes having been shoved haphazardly out of the way. “Looking like a proper slag now, princess. Cunt all wet and swollen, perfect tits out on display. Should take a photo.”

Your lips parted at the suggestion, the debate waging in your head.

“Is that what you want?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“Probably not. As much as I’d love to show you off and brag to the blokes that you’re a fuckin’ babe, you’re mine, princess. And only I can see you like this.” To back up her words, Simone’s teeth dragged possessively along your inner thigh, wringing out another moan from you.

Returning her attention to your clit, she flicked it with the tip of her tongue, the barest stimulation still sending shivers up your spine and making your thighs clench around her ears. Ghosting her middle finger down your slit, she pressed it inside you, groaning at the ease.

“Fuck lovie… never gonna get over that feeling.” She pressed another in for good measure and curled, making you squeal and grip her hair tightly, holding her face to your cunt as she ravished you.

“Please… oh god please Simmy. ‘m gonna come.” You panted, heat pooling in you. She pulled back, thumbing your clit as she grinned down at you, fingers still plunging into your slick hole.

“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me and come, aren’t you? Gonna make a mess all over our couch and make it smell like you?” Now it was her turn to moan as she leaned back down, alternating between her tongue and thumb as she spoke.

“Love the way you smell, the way you taste… I’d live off you if I could, sweet girl. My good girl. Mine.”

“Yours, Simmy… always yours.” You managed to get out, head spinning as your fingers tightened. You were spiralling, her attentiveness to you was unparalleled, knowing exactly where to press, flick, and suck.

Unable to contain the feeling, you cried out, one hand flying to grip the couch below you as your back arched and thighs trembled. You could feel your pussy pulsing around her fingers, clenching around them tighter as the coil in your gut tightened. Your body was tantalisingly close, perched on a knife’s edge before the spring snapped and you moaned her name as your eyes fluttered closed, head tipping back.

Simone hummed contentedly into your pussy, lapping gently as she worked you through your release. Once your body had sagged back down onto the couch and your walls had stopped spasming around her fingers, she lowered back down to place a soft kiss on the hood of your clit. Jerking from overstimulation, you whined softly, but giggled as you opened your eyes blearily to look up into her smiling face.

“So fuckin’ pretty, lovie.” She whispered before diving in to claim your mouth, tongue immediately pressing in so you could taste yourself. Pulling back just as quickly, her eyes darkened with lust, she looked down at you, head cocked slightly.

“Got an idea, princess. Since you had all that talk about doing some work in the bedroom, why don’t you get out that strap of mine that makes you scream?”

Drawing your lip into your mouth, you nodded eagerly, quickly getting up on shaky legs as you stumbled to the bedroom. You could hear Simone laughing as you walked, but you didn’t care. Returning, strap in hand, you held it out to her.

It was a mean thing, cruelly thick and curved, large enough to hit that spot inside you that made you cream with ease, and she knew it too. Standing up, Simone loomed over you, shucking off her jacket and pants revealing her hulking frame, she tugged on the strap before sitting back down on the couch, legs spread in a way that made you want to crawl between them and worship her. But she had other plans.

“Want you to ride me, lovie. Ride my cock until you can’t take it anymore and need me to take over. Wanna watch that pretty face fall apart as you realise you can’t come without me, then I’ll plow you into the couch.” Whining softly, you crawled into her lap, positioning yourself over her strap.

“Be a good girl and ride Daddy’s cock, like a pretty little slut.”

[pollypocketpssy]

This set is so pretty 🍒

[cherryrottenhaji]

[cheerrygirl]

[tinydancerfreelancersblog]

[shiebunnie]

cherry chai latte <3

[kamaslittlestar]

Spooktober/Drawlloween Day 15: Matchablossom 🍵 🌸

DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION/CREDIT

Masterlist

support a small artist 👩🏾‍🎨

[sunniewr]

ׁ ⠀ יִ⠀⠀ᝲ⠀𝟬𝟦:𝟬𝟦⠀⏝࿙࿚⠀❜⠀ꨣ𝗈f𝗂ִ⍺᪾.⠀媵꯭𝖻᪾᪾ֵֺ𝗒⠀❨⠀ᥴ𝑙⍺᪾꯭𝗂ִ𝗋𝗈⠀¥𝟣꯭𝖮𝖮

[littlestarryagere]

easter w grandma moodboard 🪺

[allisluv]

allisluv's readersona masterlist!

inspired by @auroralwriting <33

request are open for all of these so feel free to ask away!!

———— shy!wifey (the hunger games)

ABOUT SHY!WIFEY... // grew up in a poorer part of district four. daughter of a fisherman. volunteered when her father was in so much debt that there was no other way for them to get money. was mentored by finnick and the two fell in love from there. won the 67th hunger games at sixteen years of age. played the sweet and innocent act (which wasn't really an act as thats genuinely who she is). shy!wifey is kind, strong-willed and soft-spoken, but she is not afraid to put someone in their place if the need arises.

•••• you can find out more about shy!wifey by using the “#shy!wifey” tag on my page.

———— CHERRY (daisy jones and the six)

ABOUT CHERRY… // cherry works in a record/vinyl store and meets graham dunne during the height of his career with his band in the 70s. after being invited to watch him and his band mates play, both graham and cherry begin to bond. cherry is sarcastic, blunt witty, and isn’t afraid to knock billy dunne down a peg or two when necessary.

•••• you can find out more about cherry by using the “#cherry 🍒” tag on my page.

——— HARMONY (daisy jones and the six)

ABOUT HARMONY…// harmony is graham and billys younger sister who moves to la with cami, karen and the boys to pursue her acting career. harmony meets daisy at the band’s practice one day, and is instantly smitten. harmony isnt comfortable with her sexuality, unlike daisy, who couldn’t give a damn. harmony also saw what drugs and alcohol did to her brother, and is very anti-substances because of this, which leads to many issues in her situationship with daisy. harmony is outspoken and naive and, at times, a bit stuck up, but she almost always has good intentions.

•••• you can find out more about harmony by using the “#harmony 🎼” tag on my page.

[crashandlivewrites]

omg am i your first ask??? anyway, crawling to your inbox on my hands and knees to please ask for dom!soap overstimming reader <3 like she’s overwhelmed from work and can’t get her brain to shut off so johnny forces her brain to melt by making her cum over and over again. idk i just think that would be yummy :(

You know you are, Cherry darling <3 taking my ask virginity. Enjoy me not shutting up about your (our) man xx

As requested: Dom!Soap x fem!reader

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, overstim, degradation, Johnny being nasty and mean (but that’s normal), me ranting my ass off

“Hen, what’ve I told ye about overworkin’ yerself?” Johnny growled as he stepped over the threshold, home from the gym. Chucking his towel and bag in the corner and shutting the door behind him, he marched over to where you were sitting at the table. You were seated in the exact same place you were when he’d left for the gym and the same place you’d been when he’d woken up this morning. Tugging your chair back, he slid his body between you and your laptop, frown evident on his face.

“I’m just finishing things up, Johnny. Need to get this last thing done—”

“No, hen. Yer not.” There was no room for argument in his tone, so you shut your mouth and furrowed your brows together in annoyance. “Dinnae look at me like that, I’m in a right mood tae punish ye.”

“For what? I’m trying to finish this.” You snapped, trying to reach over his shoulder for your laptop, but he grabbed your wrist, pinning it to your side as he raised his brow.

“Dinnae give me that attitude, hen. Yer walkin’ a thin line.” His voice lowered and eyes narrowed, sending shivers down your spine. Meeting his hard gaze, you reached out with your other arm for the laptop again, attempting to click the save button on the email you’d been drafting when he snapped.

“Fuckin’ brat. Ye naw listenin’ tae me. Gonna give it tae ye now.” Standing up and throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to the bedroom where he unceremoniously dumped you onto the bed, before manhandling you so you were bent over the end of it, face pressing into the sheets.

“Johnny—” You gasped out, but you were interrupted by a sharp click of his tongue.

“Shut it, ye wee slut. I gave ye a chance and ye didnae listen.” His hands were rough as he stripped your bottom half bare, kicking your legs apart to expose your cunt which, much to your embarrassment and his delight, was already wet. Johnny chuckled darkly as he ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers as he cooed. “Haven’t even touched ye, hen. Mah good wee slut, ain’t ye?”

He allowed two of his thick fingers to slide into you slowly, clicking his tongue again as he felt you try and shift to pull away. A hand came down to slap sharply on your ass.

“Ye lost the right tae move, hen. Already proved tae me ye cannae take care of yerself.” Curling his fingers, he pressed directly against that spongy spot that he knew made you moan. You did just that, tilting your hips back to meet his fingers as he thrust them into you. “Look at ye. Fuckin’ slut takin’ my fingers. Listen to yer pussy. She’s fuckin’ missed me. All wet and leakin’., makin’ the sweetest sounds fer me.”

He kneeled down between your spread legs, ignoring your cries and calls of his name. Instead, he crooned directly to your pussy as he added another finger, producing slick sounds that made you want to bury your face into the bed.

“I ken I’ve been neglecting ye. But dinnae fash, I’ll make ye feel so good tonight, aye? Make up fer lost time.”

“Please… Johnny I need—” You yelped as another hard strike stung your ass cheek.

“Naw, bonnie. Ye get nae say in this. This is between me and ye bonnie wee cunt. At least I’ve got one lassie that listens tae me.” Whining, you dug your fingers into the sheets, turning your head to look back at your boyfriend over your shoulder, who was pointedly looking at your sopping cunt and not you.

“C’mon bonnie. Cum fer me, aye?” He cooed, leaning in so his tongue could dance over your clit.

And you did. Over. And over. And over until slick covered your inner thighs, the bed, his fingers, his face…

“Please Johnny… I can’t… no more please!” You cried, struggling to form the words as your legs were numb and trembling, making it virtually impossible to push him away.

“Yer still talkin’ hen, clearly need to muddle ye brain more. Ye can handle another one, aye? Ain’t even shoved my cock in ye yet.”

Johnny was usually the most impatient bastard around, but when it came to teaching you a lesson… he suddenly had all the patience and self-control in the world.

“Besides, ain’t heard yer safe word yet, bonnie thing. Ye remember it, dinnae ye?” Chucking, he spun you around so you were sprawled on your back, hooking your knees over his elbows and looming over you. “Gonna be a good girl fer me? Gonna listen tae me next time I tell ye to take a break?”

Heavily panting and body lax from climax after climax, you gave him a small nod and his responding smile was wicked. Letting go of one of your legs, he reached down to drag his thick cock along your slit before pressing in. Johnny moaned loudly as he slid in right to the hilt, meeting no resistance.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, hen. Pussy feels s’fuckin good ‘n wet. Gonna fuck ye, breed ye til ye cannae even think of work nae more.”

[cherryrottenhaji]

[iamthatonefangirl]

BUCKYS HAIR IN THE POST CREDIT SCENE OF THUNDERBOLTS*??? WHOS FUCKING DYSON CORDLESS VACUUM DID THAT SHIT

-🍒

bro at first i was in shock when i saw the new look. ok.

24 hours later it’s growing on me because i love him so hairy. it’s literally that one photoshopped image from fatws. it’s defo a wig that man is bald

GRAH i loved the movie i love this man.

not gonna add any spoilers guys i promise