#It is hampering me... it is slapping my hands away...

[blackwaxidol]

The reblog to original post ratio, oh the feng shui of my blog is truly fucked...

[monamipencil]

— debauched | ft. stepbro! mingyu

⋆ pairings; mingyu x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut ⋆ w.c; 4.5k+ ⋆ warnings; stepbrother! mingyu, gyu wears glasses (yes this is a warning), debauchery, oral (f.receiving), mate press, raw sex, creampie, dubcon, fucking while parents are in the room, fingering, handjob, pussy slapping, jealousy, mingyu is kinda toxic, panty stealing, somnophilia, spitting kink, exhibitionism, doggy, choking, public indecency, mentions of food ⋆ a/n; im so sorry for this monstrosity. i was possessed and i refuse to do damage control 😌 (thanks to @miabebe for assisting my lunacy and giving me ideas lol.)

“fuck, you can't do this to me.”

“i can't do what to you?” you question your step-brother as he follows you into the bathroom. you don't mind it and grab your toothbrush and the paste.

“this,” he gestures towards you, more specifically the nightwear you're wearing. a cute cropped tank top with a matching pair of underwear. it's patterned with little flower prints and lined with lace.

“i'm not doing anything. not my fault you're a horn dog.”

you don't entertain him any more and brush your teeth. and neither does he, opting to grind himself on you. his hard-on presses on your ass and his hands wander all over you, skating over your skin with experienced expertise.

you give into his wishes and bend over a bit while going on with your night routine. his calloused hands slip under your top, and squeeze your tits. your nipples pebble under his touch, complying to his wishes just the same. he pinches the buds with urgency, just the way his hips grind on yours.

without much reaction, you continue brushing. but your body is growing hot with every second, and the need to have him inside you is insatiable. you wish your dad never married his mom for various reasons, and this is one of them.

“y'smell so good.” he slurs, sniffing your neck like a hound dog. his tongue traces your jugular, tasting your sweet perspiration. one of his hands travel down south, toying with hem of your panty—

knock, knock.

mingyu throws himself off you, startled by whomever was on the outside.

“honey, are you in there?” your dad's voice resonates through the door and you give him a gargled ‘yes.’ he wishes you a good night and walks off.

mingyu takes it as a cue to use the other door, connected to his bedroom and enters it. through the closed door, you hear dad checking upon him before he walks away again.

with a sigh, you rinse your mouth. and an examination of your panty reveals a soaked patch staining it. with annoyance and longing in the mix, you discard the cloth into the laundry hamper.

[ ... ]

the creak of the floorboards stir you awake and your eyes fall on a figure standing in front of you. startled, you turn on the lights and scramble to protect yourself.

only to be met with the sight of mingyu, holding your panty to his nose as he squeezes himself through his grey sweatpants. the outline of his cock is visible through the cloth. your mouth salivates and your eyes snap up to his. his dark eyes look down at you through his glasses, the depravity of his thoughts seen through his gaze.

mingyu doesn't say anything and hooks his hand underneath your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. in one swift go, your panties are gone, causing you to yelp in surprise. feeling shy with the sudden exposure, you close your legs.

he moves to your wardrobe, quickly retrieving a tie from there.

“gyu, no.” you warn but he doesn't listen. despite your protests, he ties up your hands behind your back. you sigh in defeat, “but you should stop when i tell you to.”

“i know.” his deep voice sends a frenzy in your stomach and your legs part on their own.

he licks your lips, invading them with ease. his boner prods your thighs as he makes out with you. you cant your hips, chasing some of that delicious friction. mingyu tuts in response and looks down to where you're desperately grinding against him.

he descends down, skating his lips and teeth over the skin of your neck and torso. warm breath greets your sensitive skin that's coated with arousal. he kisses the plump flesh of your thighs, ghosting his canines over them.

he slowly reaches your core and gives it a kitten lick. you whine, and buck your hips up. flame licks your skin and the lewdness of the situation makes you desperate.

when his lips meet your cunt, it's unexpected. a loud gasp tears from your lips at the force of it. he places an open mouth kiss to your heat and his hands force your legs as apart as possible.

his tongue glides over your cunt, licking up your arousal. it's nothing soft or sweet, only rough and desperate. he sucks and slurps on your whole, sending waves of pleasure through your body. he shakes his head side to side, tongue prodding at your folds.

it's impossible to contain your moans but you try your best. the cold plastic of his glasses kiss your skin whenever you try to close your legs. he eats you out like a starved dog.

your hole clenches around nothing and mingyu fills it with his tongue. he pushes his tongue in and out of you, the wet sounds of which fills the room. the sensation causes your hips to buck up into his face.

“ah!” you moan, loudly. you just don't find it in yourself to care anymore when he thumbs your clit. he pulls away, a string of spit connecting his lips to your cunt. you look down to find him staring at you over his fogged up glasses. it slid down, letting you see his eyes uncovered.

he spits on your cunt, the warm glob drips down your folds as he maintains eye contact with you. he licks up a large stripe, savoring your taste on his tongue. his tongue prods at your hole again and he fills you up. but this time, it's slower.

your gummy walls clench around his tongue, overstimulated by his thumb on your clit. your moans echo through the room again and a knot builds in your stomach. mingyu picks up his pace, returning to slurping your cunt.

the knot gets tighter and tighter, till it breaks, leaving you a babbling and trembling mess. you black out from the intensity of the orgasm and your moans cease.

mingyu licks up your climax, not wasting a drop of it. with a final kiss to your clit, he pulls away. as much as he wants to split you open on his cock now, he can't. he respects your wishes but that doesn't stop him from leaving a present for you.

he pumps his twitching cock to the sight of you. it doesn't even take a minute till he's moaning your name and spilling his seed on your thighs and stomach. he wants to finish inside you and see his load spill out of your pretty lips but he decides it for another day.

squelch.

you shift.

more wet squelches resonate from beneath the blanket you're sharing with your stepbrother. your lips shudder as you release a sharp breath.

a family movie night. it was what it was supposed to be. that is, till your parents fell asleep and mingyu sneaked his hand inside your shorts as you both sit on the couch.

two of his fingers are buried up to the hilt in your cunt, slowly drilling in and out of you. but it isn't enough and you want more, need more. your hands venture to find his cock beneath his pants. he simply spares you a glance before focusing on the movie again.

with a cautious glance to your dad and his mom, you tilt your head, pressing small kisses to his neck. his adam's apple bobs when you lick the column of his throat.

your hand finds his hardness beneath his underwear. wrapping your hand around the base, you pump him slowly. when your hand glides up to his tip, you rub your thumb over it, smearing the pre cum all over. a low hiss fills your ear and you smirk as he bucks into your hand.

you continue to kiss and bite his tan skin. his breathing turns sporadic, abdomen clenching with restraint. you're caught off-guard when he picks up his pace and curls his fingers against your sweet spot. you gasp, and clench around him.

“look at the tv.” he teethes your earlobe, hot breath ghosting over your neck. goosebumps prickle all over your skin when his canines brush against your skin.

“you both still awake?” the voice startles you and you try to remove your hand from beneath his pants but mingyu stops you. he wraps his other hand over yours, and guides in pumping his cock.

“yeah, we're gonna finish it.” he answers his mom who searches for her glasses while mingyu adjusts the blanket. when she puts it on, everything seems fine and well. she smiles at you both and wakes up your father to move him to the bedroom.

all while mingyu's jerking himself off with your hand and curling his fingers against your sweet spot. she wishes a goodnight, and you respond in unison. the moment her bedroom door locks, he pulls the blanket off.

your clothes along with his joins the blanket on the couch. he relaxes on the couch and makes you straddle him. his cock pokes your cunt, twitching with need. his hands perch on your hips as he guides you slowly down his cock.

“fuck,” he groans, seeing his cock disappear into your cunt.

you take purchase on his shoulders while preparing to ride him. broken moans fall from his lips as you start to bounce. his hands slide down to your ass, and he gropes and massages them.

in a hope to tone down his moans, he connects his lips to yours. tongue meets tongue as your moans mix together, creating a lewd symphony. your thighs slap against his and your arousal drips down his cock to his balls.

his cock splits you open deliciously. the swollen tip hits all the right spots with precision. he fits perfectly with you, like two puzzle pieces. the kiss turns sloppy and messy. your tongue glides over his and your spit mixes with his. you taste his lewd noises on your tongue, a fuel to ride him with more energy.

your pulse beats in your cunt, and you're clenching around him in no time. mingyu does his best and meets your hips with urgency. his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple, sucking with a fervor.

soon, only his hips are moving as he holds you still against him. his strong arms wrap around you, hips drilling into yours every millisecond. but his thighs tremble, giving away his approaching orgasm.

his movements turn sloppy and his moans louder. awareness seeps into your mind when you realise you both could be caught easily. somehow, it only arouses you further. you move against him desperately, feeling his cock kiss all the right places.

you grind against him, chasing friction. sensing your neediness, he slips his hand between your bodies. his thumb circles your clit and he takes your nipple into his mouth again. your nerves fire up, overwhelmed by the attention on your body.

your cunt clenches around his twitching cock. he whines your name with more urgency and you do the same. “fuck, mingyu.”

the orgasm washes over you with an intensity that makes you quiver in his hold. with you wildly clenching around him, he meets his climax as well. he doesn't pull out and warm ribbons of cum spill inside you.

“mingyu!” you gasp in shock but he shushes you with a kiss. his tongue slips past your lips, eager to suck on yours. he holds you still and empties his load inside you. your initial protest melts away as lust seeps into your skin again.

you feel so dirty but so, so good.

mingyu shuts the tv off and picks up the clothes, all while staying inside you. a surprised gasp falls from your lips when he picks you up and walks to his room. there, you fall asleep in his arms with his cock still buried deep inside you.

mingyu's vision turns green when he sees you laughing and chatting with your guy ‘friend.’ since when did you invite your guy friends to dinners at home?

he makes sure that he does not like that guy. didn't even bother learning his name. a seat draws abruptly and four pairs of eyes settle on mingyu. “dessert anyone?”

all except your dad agrees. “wait, take your sister with you. i don't want any broken dishes tonight.”

he doesn't spare you a glance and walks to the pantry. you follow him to choose whatever fits your appetite. maybe, you should've known better than to stay in a room alone with mingyu.

the moment the pantry door is shut, he's all over you.

“mingyu—stop, others are out there.” you gasp, feeling him shift his entire weight on you.

a low scoff resonates from his chest, “you didn't care about others during our parent's wedding.”

the recall of the memory sets your nerves on fire. fuck. of course, he pulled that card.

there's no use in resisting him. especially when your body is screaming at you to submit to him. his hands itch to tear off the pretty dress you're wearing, but he decided against it.

instead, he lifts up your dress and yanks down your pretty matching underwear. a condescending chuckle resonates from his throat, “you sure you just brought him over for dinner?”

his eyes turn a shade deeper when a thought strikes him.

“or, did you already fuck him?”

his tone sends a wave of arousal through your body. you felt like a prey being cornered by a predator. his gaze is animalistic as he looks down at you, his glasses slipping off his nose once again.

“no, no! we didn't-i didn'—”

you're cut off when he slots his lips on yours. that alone is enough to elicit a moan from you. “good girl,”

he backs away from you but keeps his hand under your dress, slowly hiking it up further till your glistening pussy greets his eyes. a sadistic grin stretches on his lips as he watches arousal drip from your cunt.

he collects the fluid and smears them on your cheeks and lips, earning a whine from you.

“mingyu, they'll be suspicious if we're gone for too long.”

“and?”

a sharp sting shoots through your core. it takes some seconds for you to realise that he slapped your cunt. your jaw falls slack in shock but mingyu isn't deterred. he looks at you with hooded eyes as he delivers another slap to your cunt.

you're embarrassingly wet now and it drips down your thighs. mingyu licks his fingers before slapping your core again. a few more slaps has you whining and trembling. your cunt only gets more and more wet with each slap.

“you,” slap,

“are,” slap,

“mine.” slap.

he pokes his cheek with his tongue when you don't respond. a tut from his lips brings you back from euphoria and you stare at him with wide eyes. he roughly yanks you closer, one hand on the small of your back while another squeezes your cheek together.

you whine, more needy than ever. he shushes you, brushing his thumb over your lip. “it's ok, i can forgi—”

“spit in my mouth.”

he takes a few seconds to decipher what you said, so you repeat it. with more desperation. “mingyuu, spit in my mouth. please!”

smugness fills his veins, and he's more than happy to oblige. he collects his saliva and spits it in your mouth when you push your tongue out with your eyes rolled back.

but your bliss is cut short when he places some dessert in your hand, nodding at you to go back. “and, i'm keeping this.” he pockets your panty and follows behind you.

your hand clasps the knob when he delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “fast. you wanna get caught or somethin’?”

you were more than confused when mingyu sent a text that your ‘guy friend’ was waiting at home for you. given that, it's been a week since that dinner incident and you haven't even spoken to your friend since then.

but, you're not confused anymore. not when mingyu has you on all fours, pounding your cunt as your ‘friend’ watches.

your wanton moans sync with the lewd skin slaps. his hands perch on your hips, maneuvering your body to his needs. heavy balls slap against your clit, providing you the utmost pleasure.

the fact that someone else is witnessing this debauchery doesn't bother you. in fact, it arouses you and floods your cunt with wetness. and because your parents are out of town, it gives you the freedom to be as loud as you can.

you arch your back, leaning into all of his touches. his hand ascends to your neck, fingers hooking into your hair. you yelp when he tugs on it, the sharp sting is delicious through your lust haze and you moan louder.

he releases his grip, opting for a painless grip—his fingers wrap around your nape. the other still perches on your hips as he continues to pound you into the next dimension.

much to mingyu's amusement and annoyance, that guy's pumping his cock to the scene in front of him. with a roll of his eyes, he fucks your harder, with more force in his thrusts.

his movements are fluid. anyone can tell that this isn't a first for you both, that you've fucked multiple times before. he lands a slap on your ass, groping and spreading your cheeks.

even though, he's been fucking you straight for the past twenty minutes, he doesn't feel his climax anywhere near. so he arches your back and puts you in a chokehold. his biceps tighten around your neck, veins visible and pulsing with adrenaline.

“fuck! fuck! mingyu, please—” loud, lewd moans fill his ears and he savors each syllable that falls from your lips. it pushes him to fuck you harder and harder, till you completely fall apart in his arms. till your mind melts, and all you can remember is him. only him.

you scream, the orgasm washing over you unexpectedly. you tremble in his hold, sensitive from your climax. but mingyu isn't done. he pushes you onto the mattress and you grip the duvet with the energy left in you.

mingyu abuses your hole, thrusting sharply as his orgasm creeps closer. his balls slap against your clit, aiding in your overstimulation. with another sharp thrust, he cums inside you. a loud groan rumbles from his chest, letting the voyeur in your room know that he's reached his climax.

he pulls out and with that, his load also spills out. mingyu falls on the bed next to you, heaving for breath. another moan resonates in the room, and he lifts his head to look at the guy with a raised eyebrow. ah, right.

with a grin, mingyu walks towards him. although he's smiling, it's anything but friendly.

“listen, if any of this gets out—”

their conversation falls out of your earshot when your stepbrother starts whispering into his ears. but it isn't a mystery that he's threatening him. you don't bother with it much and fall asleep, feeling more spent than ever.

a memory plays out in your dreams, one that feels much more like the latter than the former.

[THE DAY OF YOUR PARENT'S WEDDING]

you groan out of annoyance and scream into your hands. nothing seems to be working your way today.

the heater doesn't work. your dad is marrying someone else, just six months after the divorce. your cereals were soggy. and, now you can't zip your fucking bridesmaid dress.

a knock on the door refocuses your attention. through the mirror, you see mingyu standing near the door. embarrassment shoots through your veins but you feign a smile and turn to look at him. before both of you can exchange words, his mother comes up.

“hi dear! oh, you look absolutely lovely.” she smiles at you, a genuine one. but you don't feel it in you to reciprocate it. you muster up your best smile and thank her, telling her the same.

“aww, thank you. oh, right! mingyu here said that he wanted to speak with you.”

your heart drops down to your stomach. ah, how could you forget your soon-to-be step brother from your list of mishaps? he isn't exactly mean or nice. he just acts as if you don't exist. and it hurts, especially when you feel such an attraction towards him.

you see him protest back, spitting something along the lines of “i never said that,” it worsens your nerves. she snaps at him, giving him a glare and you a smile. your heart palpitates when his mother closes the door and locks it.

mingyu doesn't say anything, instead takes time to compose himself. meanwhile, you contemplate on how to zip up your dress without further embarra— “need help with the zipper?”

“huh? ye-yes.” well, shit.

he stalks towards you and you turn around, involuntarily. you move your hair out of the way for him. he places one of his hands on the exposed skin of your neck and the other zips up your dress, albeit slowly.

and you swear on god that he caresses your skin while doing so. but you sum it up to your horny brain playing tricks on you. “thank you,” you whisper, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

“you're welcome.” his deep timbre voice shoots arousal down to your core and your body raises in temperature.

he inhales sharply before muttering, “mom wants me to get along with you.”

“but i don't want to.”

it stings. more than you'd like to admit. he continues, not giving you a chance to respond. “i don't want them to marry. i suppose you don't either. and i certainly don't want to follow whatever fucking rules they say.”

his eyes are trained on you the entire time, and you maintain it. even though, your nerves are all over the place and you're trying really hard to focus on his eyes and not lips.

“we could be good friends,” he suddenly moves closer. much closer. his body presses against yours and his hands settle on your hips. his chin rests on your shoulder and he maintains eye contact through the mirror. “only, if you can obey somethings.”

that tingles your stomach and you're more than intrigued to know what he means.

“like what?”

he smirks and breaks eye contact to look at you, rather than your reflection. “like that i'd rather be your fuckbuddy than your stepbrother.”

mingyu's heart paces on its own and he prays to god that he didn't hallucinate the way you look at him sometimes. where your eyes drift and the emotion swirling behind them. his assumptions are affirmed true when you arch your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.

he tries to control his smile and maintain his image to you. which proves to be very hard when you whine so cutely, “oh, fuck me.”

the zipper he'd just done comes undone as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your nape and the exposed skin of your back. he presses his hard-on against your ass, feeling his cock sink into the plush flesh of—

“you both have better made friends!”

he pushes away from you, but not before he zips your dress. he fixes his suit, and you pat down the perspiration on your face. she unlocks the door and smiles at you both.

“look at you both! aww,” she engulfs you both in a hug, and you pray to god she doesn't feel your palpitating heart.

[...]

the elevator dings open and whoever was on the other side lets out a surprised noise and scrambles away. but you don't give a fuck neither does mingyu.

his tongue glides over yours in a hot, deep kiss, such that your faces are obscured to anyone who can stumble upon you. the heat of his body seeps into you, driving you absolutely crazy.

the elevator dings again, the automated doors opening to the floor of your room. his hands are all over your body and so are his lips. he nibbles on your ear lobe and neck, licking the patches of red he leaves behind.

you swipe the key card with much effort and finally get in. mingyu pins you to the door as soon as you get in, grinding his hard on against your stomach. he reconnects his lips with yours, humming in content.

the bed creaks with each of his thrusts. surely, there would be complaints from the neighbors but could care less about everything else. your mind can only focus on mingyu's cock drilling in and out of you.

mingyu's addicted to the image of you writhing in pleasure, underneath him. and the bulge of his cock that appears whenever he thrusts does little to soothe aching desire.

his balls slap your ass with each heavy thrust. your breaths mingle together as he splits you open on his cock. his canines ghost over your neck, and he sinks them into your skin, wanting to see how it looks. how you'd look with his mark.

you look perfect, he thinks, absolutely drunk on the idea of making you his.

it pushes him to fuck you harder. he pushes your knees on either side of your head, drilling his cock inside you deeper and deeper. your moans turn into screams with the drive of his cock. his leaking cock is buried to the hilt, hitting your sweet, spongy spot now and then.

you lose the ability to form coherent sources. only babbles and whines fall from your lips, absolutely drunk by his cock. mingyu adds to it by reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. the delicious friction has you mewling and canting your hips.

your nails rake his back as he continues to pound your cunt with all of his strength. that combined with the clit stimulation makes you sob and squirm underneath him. your legs quiver and toes curl. your breathing turns rapid and the knot in your abdomen gets tighter.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!”

he presses your knees further down, fucking you with much ardour. tears stream down your face and broken sobs tear from your throat. mingyu licks your tears, and stares at you, drinking the sight beneath him. his cock twitches when you look up at him, “shit.”

your hips lift off the bed and legs tremble more than ever. you gasp loudly when you cum. the orgasm crashes over you, making your body a quivering mess. you see stars and you feel as if you're not on earth anymore, as if you're in heaven. mingyu brought heaven down to you.

you only realise that he pulled out when you feel his weight on your body. his body quivers just the same as yours, breathing rapidly and consciousness in another dimension. he rolls off you, lying on the spot next to you.

warm cum decorates your abdomen and it feels so right but so wrong.

“thanks,” you blurt out, regretting it immediately. he chuckles, “for what?”

[NOW]

“everything.” you mumble in your sleep and mingyu glances at you with confusion. you mutter more things and it causes him to chuckle. he pinches your cheek and kisses it.

his hand caresses your back as he cuddles you. it somehow feels right despite the moral restrictions. but he doesn't care, not when you look so peaceful, curled up on his side.

it may be debauched, but it sure as hell is his heaven.

[cupcakegirl3]

“so perfect for me”

i know places - chapter 8

dark!wandanat x reader

ch 7 | ch 9

s: hurt then more hurt, then comfort, then two girls kissing and then Natasha's touching me oooooooooh

wc: 4.5k

tw: somophilia (slightly), housewife kink, fear of being alone, free use, nude pictures/videos, anxiety, stockholm syndrome, slapping, oral (on a strap), mean!daddynatasha, soft!mommywanda, arguments, throat fucking, straps referred to as cocks, anal, cock warming, spanking, cuddling

a/n: i love youuuuuu - this chapter only has smut between natasha and reader

It was raining when I finally rolled out of bed. My legs and core ached, I didn’t know which one of them had done it, my body was used to sleeping through it. Every morning they were typically up earlier than me. And typically they used me before they got up. 

The shower was on, probably Natasha. She liked to work out in the morning. Plus she wasn’t very good at cooking breakfast. 

I did have a light green nightie on but I still wrapped a small robe around me. The door was open and there were faint sounds coming from the kitchen. 

Wanda was in there, fully dressed already. So she was going to work. I internally groaned, not ready to spend a whole day with daddy. 

“Good morning princess.” 

She was smearing strawberry cream cheese on some bagels. 

“Hi mommy.” I wrapped myself around her as she continued to work. 

Eventually we made our way to the table, I sat in her lap as she drank her coffee and ate her food. Then Natasha came down the stairs. 

She was fully dressed too. 

“Want a bagel?” Wanda asked as Natasha walked to the kitchen. 

“I’ll just eat something there. We need to go soon.” 

“Both of you?” I asked suddenly. 

My heart beat uncomfortably hard in my chest. I didn’t like being alone, I hadn’t been for weeks. Even when I still lived at h— my old house, I hated being alone. 

Natasha sighed, “I knew we should have told her last night.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes, not even replying to the bait. Instead she set a hand on my cheek. “It’s just until five.” 

“That’s so long.” I whispered. My hands couldn’t help but reach out for her. Her gaze didn’t soften at all. I looked at Natasha, pleading with her. 

Natasha looked away, my heart sank. Were they really going to leave me? What was I even supposed to do without them? 

Natasha set a box down on the table and slid it to me. “Here.” She said, her voice quiet. 

I opened the box, inside was an ipad. “It’s got parental locks on it. You can only contact us.” 

It was better than nothing, but still it didn’t really help matters. 

But what I had to say didn’t matter. Even as tears formed in my eyes they still walked out the door. The silence was deafening. Even as I watched their car pull out of the driveway I couldn’t help my aching heart. 

What if this is a trap?

I tried to shake the thought, walking back to the safety of my room. What if they wanted me to fuck up somehow? They wanted to find some way to punish me? 

No. Mommy and daddy don’t do that anymore. They don’t…

I put the ipad on my bed and walked over to my closet. Deciding to wear something more comfortable then they would normally pick out for me. 

Other than cleaning up dinner, I really didn't have to do any chores around the house. I just assumed one of them always did them. The hamper in my room however was almost full. 

I took it to the laundry room, which I found right off to the side of the living room behind a set of double doors. So I started a load, which killed about five minutes. 

Just eight more hours to go…

I had noticed it last week, when they both had to work more than usual. Natasha was messy. Constantly leaving clothes all over the ground and empty cups around the house. Mommy and daddy seemed too busy with me to really clean after themselves. 

Feeling self conscious about it, I started to pick up. I had never minded cleaning, it gave me something to do now. 

Thankfully, cleaning it all up took about an hour. Only seven more. I went back up to my room, unsure if I was even allowed to watch TV. 

Was I allowed to go to the bathroom? Or eat? Or even clean? 

Everything had been their decision, I hadn’t done anything in weeks. 

I opened the ipad, the cover a picture of the three of us. Natasha must have taken it, Wanda and I were fast asleep. 

Fuck I missed them. 

I went to the messages, quickly texting the only two contacts in the ipad. 

me: hi 

The response came a couple minutes later. 

Nat: sorry princess, super busy. 

My heart sank and I closed the device completely. I needed to do something. 

It was only 10:30, I couldn’t eat breakfast again or start lunch. 

The ipad dinged, I immediately grabbed it. My heart sank almost instantly. 

remindeder: drink water baby <3

I groaned, grabbing my water bottle and taking a drink from it. 

The ipad was completely locked up, but I was able to download some games. I spent an hour playing those. It seemed like the clock in the corner of the screen was moving extra slow just to torture me.

At least I was getting hungry. They had never restricted food from me before but they always fed me. Plus they made all the meals…what was I even supposed to eat? 

I opened the fridge and it was full, but there were so many options. Instantly I was overwhelmed, trying to think about what they might choose for me to eat. 

I hated being alone, all I wanted was for them to cook me something. I sat down at the kitchen table. It seemed so huge without them. 

me: mama can I please call you? 

After a few minutes the ipad started ringing with a facetime. I set it up so she could see me. 

“Hi princess.” 

“Hi mommy.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

I shrugged, pulling my knees up to my chest. 

“We’re super busy, trying to figure out logistics for our next mission. So I can’t be here for long.”

Tears welled in my eyes but I kept them at bay. “I just don’t know what to eat.” I said just loud enough for her to hear. “And can I watch TV? or do anything?”

Wanda smiled at me. “You can do whatever you want, just don’t go outside or into any of the locked rooms. Now, why don’t you make a grilled cheese and some tomato soup, that always makes you feel better.” 

The tears stopped forming, “Okay mommy.” 

“I need to go. Bye darling.”

“I love you mommy.” 

Wanda smiled again, “I love you too.” 

The grilled cheese did make me feel better, so did having the TV on. I didn’t really watch it, I just stared out the big sliding glass doors off to the left of the tv. The rain had stopped once I had changed the laundry. 

The yard really was beautiful, the whole house was. All perfectly made for me…

You could leave. They aren’t here to chase you 

I shook the thought away, angry at myself for even having it. They probably had cameras and sensors everywhere. Stupid idea. 

Plus they loved me. They really loved me for me. 

I grabbed my ipad, trying to distract my line of thinking. For some reason, I opened the photos app out of curiosity. I should have just left it alone. 

It was full of pictures and videos of me. All of them dirty and disgusting. No matter how much praise I still didn’t like all the things they made me do. I didn’t even know they took pictures and videos of most of this stuff. 

Still, my core got wet looking at them. They did love me, they knew what was best. 

I put down my ipad, deciding to get up and do something for the next couple of hours. Maybe I could cook dinner? I knew some basic meals but I quickly went online and searched for some. 

The fridge was fully stocked, but I wanted something that would make me feel better. So pasta. 

I cleaned the kitchen, killing another hour or so before I started dinner. The timing was perfect somehow, I could hear their car pulling in when I was draining the pasta. 

I quickly ran into their arms, both of them wrapping around me. 

“We missed you too.” Natasha mumbled, kissing the top of my head. 

“I um… I cooked dinner.” I said softly. 

Wanda hummed, walking away from us. Natasha pulled be back into her, kissing my lips quickly. 

Immediately her hands started to touch me, grabbing my ass and tits harshly. I yelped in pain but her mouth swallowed any noises. Natasha pushed us back until I felt my hips hit something.

I opened my eyes with Natasha’s lips still on mine. She had pushed us all the way to the kitchen. 

“I set the table.” I mumbled against her lips.

“I don’t care.” 

She flipped me around, shoving my face onto the cold wooden table. The table rattled as she pushed her hips into mine, grabbing onto my ass. 

I cried out as she spanked me, pulling up my dress to reveal the pink skin. I heard her pulling down her pants and pressing her bare skin against me. 

She didn’t prepare me for her cock, shoving it into me brutally. I sobbed out as she opened me up. 

“Fuck I missed this.” Natasha groaned. 

“The food…”

She slapped my ass. “We’ll warm it back up. Shut up and take it.” 

I had been so overwhelmed for them to come home and all she wanted was to use me. Tears began flowing, right onto the table that I had spent so long making. 

She doesn’t love me…

Natasha groaned her hips burying herself to the hilt as she came. I held back my sobs, biting my lip so hard the metallic tang of blood was on my tongue. 

She pulled out, pulling my dress back down and lightly slapping my ass. 

“Smells good.” 

After a couple of seconds I stood up, tears still falling down my face. 

Did she ever love me?

Natasha sat down in her usual chair, checking her phone as she scooted her chair in. “Make me a plate, Wans too.” 

She wouldn’t even look at me. Did she even care about me at all? 

I took my time making mommy’s plate. Even swirling the noodles to make it look pretty, placing the chicken on top and the vegetables to the side so they wouldn’t touch. I just threw Natasha’s plate together, uncaring about how it looked or if she got enough sauce. 

I set Wanda’s plate down gently, especially now that she was sitting. Now she was dressed in her usual attire, a long shirt and sweats. She looked beautiful. 

I slammed Natasha’s plate down on the table, not even looking at her as I walked back into the kitchen to grab their wine. I wish I couldn’t spit in hers. 

I was never like this before. I would have never had such mean thoughts about a person. She made me into this. 

I did the same with their glasses as I did with their plates. 

“Wanna sit with mama.” I grumbled, taking a step towards Wanda’s chair. 

Natasha yanked me back into her, sitting me down in her lap. 

“What the fuck was that about?” She asked. I wouldn’t look at her, I even crossed my arms over my chest.  

“Yeah you don’t wanna fucking talk to me?” 

Natasha’s hand was harsh against my cheek but not even then did I relent. I had never been this mad before. She knew it too. 

She threw me to the ground, grabbing my hair and yanking me onto my knees. She smacked me again and again until my ears were ringing. It took everything in me to not give in but I didn’t. Still, silent tears ran down my face from the pain. 

“Get under the table.” She barked, grabbing her glass of wine and drinking from it. 

I didn’t move, I didn’t care anymore. It was just more proof that she didn’t love me. 

“You fucking bitch.” She growled, throwing the rest of the glass on me. 

I shrieked out, covering my face but she didn’t let me. She kicked me into the puddle on the floor. She pressed her foot down onto my neck. “Get under the table now or I’ll beat you until you’re choking on your own fucking blood.” 

Cold, wet, and defeated I crawled under the table. Natasha unzipped her pants once again, pulling my head into her cock. 

“Hold it.” 

I choked and sputtered around her cock, choking on the length of it. She didn’t care. One of her hands stayed at the back of my head, barely giving me enough space to pull back slightly. 

I heard them eating, at least in silence for a while. My stomach growled, I knew the food had to be good. 

“What do you think her problem is?” Wanda asked. 

“She’s a fucking cunt.” 

“Nat.” Wanda warned. “What’d you do to her while I was changing?”

Natasha paused, “I fucked her.” 

Wanda hummed, setting something down on the table. “Maybe she’s sore.” 

“I don’t really care.” 

Wanda mumbled something but Natasha didn’t respond. They ate the rest of dinner in silence, only the sound of their forks scraping filled the air.  

“Get out.” Natasha said, her voice sounding defeated. 

I scrambled off her cock, finally breathing in a full breath for the first time in a while. I knelt in front of her, still cold and dripping with her wine. 

“Explain yourself.” Natasha said. 

I swallowed hard, my throat hurt from Natasha's abuse. “I just missed you all day. T-then you come home…and all you want is to…do that.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Stand up.” She set her glass of wine down, standing up in front of me. She grabbed my throat, her fingernails digging into me. 

“I own you. I use you when I want, where I want and, how I want. Got it?”

I reluctantly nodded. 

“Nat.” Wanda said firmly from behind me. 

“What?” 

“Darling, go to your room.” 

“What?” Nataha asked again

“Now.” 

Natasha practically threw me off of her. I was happy to escape to my room. I ran up there, slamming the door behind me. 

I changed out of my pretty dress, throwing it on the ground and wanting to stomp on it. I wish I had one of mommy’s shirts to put on but I had just washed them all. I found the most comfortable thing I could find and slipped into shorts and tank.

I went to go lay in my bed but I could hear them shouting at one another. Dread filled me, did I really make her that mad? And mommy? Why was she so mad? 

I had to stop doing stuff wrong. I didn’t want them to get rid of me. I just needed to be good. I needed to take what they gave me. 

The shouting stopped then footsteps began coming towards me. I ran into my bed, slipping under the covers completely.

The door opened and then closed again. 

“Princess?” 

I got out of my burrow, being greeted by Wanda holding a plate full of food. 

“Am I in trouble?” I asked instantly. 

She smiled at me, although her eyes looked sad. “Couples disagree all the time.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

Wanda shrugged, gesturing for me to sit back on the bed. She handed me the plate before sitting down with me. 

“The food was great, princess.” 

“Thank you mommy.” 

We ate in silence, an uncomfortable one. God I had really messed things up haven’t I? 

“Mommy has to leave again tonight.” Wanda said suddenly, not even looking at me. 

“She’s so mad don’t leave me alone with her.” 

“Hey, don’t say that.” She said firmly. She took my empty play from my hands. “She’s not mad anymore, I promise.” 

The plate vanished from her hand with a wave of her magic. She stood up, pulling me up too. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her as hard as I dared. 

An hour later I was sitting awkwardly on the couch with Natasha. There hadn’t been words spoken and I just wanted to go to bed but I didn’t. Natasha had changed into shorts and a tanktop with no bra underneath. I tried to ignore her nipples poking through the shirt. 

After another hour of silence, my mind was racing. Unable to hold away my thoughts. 

“Why me?” I asked quietly, not able to look at her. 

Her head snapped towards me. Then she scooted to sit closer, pinning me into the corner of the couch. 

Natasha’s fingers pushed my hair back, “Look at me.” 

Slowly I brought my eyes up to hers, flushing under her gaze. 

“You’re perfect for us.” She replied. I flinched as she brought her hand to my cheek, stroking the delicate skin. 

“My body or—“

“All of you. We wanted you for so long. You’re so sweet, so kind, so beautiful.” Her long fingers stroked my face. “Don’t ever think otherwise.” 

I nodded, my hands reaching for the hem of her sweater. 

“Come here.” She whispered, pulling me into her. “I’m…sorry I made you feel that way.” 

She had never ever apologized before. Her body was so soft and warm around me. Eventually I fell asleep in her arms, safe and protected. 

I woke up pressed against her chest, now laying down on the couch. I was so warm all over and her leg was slotted in between mine…

I was wet and I couldn’t think of anything other than her.

“You awake princess?” She whispered, but I kept her pressed close against me. I grinded my hips down on her leg in between mine. 

“Fuck, come here.” Natasha said quietly again. Pulling us both up quickly so I could be perched in her lap facing the tv, which had her favorite show playing.

I laid my head back on her shoulder and she placed her lips on mine. I couldn’t help but keep grinding my hips down on her. Natasha mumbled something under her breath before pulling my dress off my body. 

She spread my legs, her fingers instantly circling around my clit. Natasha pulled away from me, “Quiet darling, this is my favorite episode.” 

I whined but tried to stay still as she played with me absentmindedly. I tried to pay attention to her show but fuck it was so hard. 

“Oh baby. Look at your precious little pussy.” Her hands continued to play with me. Spreading my lips apart. The episode had finally come to a close.

“Making such a mess.” 

“Daddy— sorry! Please…need you - fuck - please.” 

“Wanna make me feel good?” 

I nodded, pressing my head further back so I could see her. “Yeah you’ve been such a good girl. Why don’t you get on your knees.” 

I slid down her lap, getting down on the floor in front of her. She smiled at me, carding a hand through my hair. 

“So pretty and naked for me huh? Gonna suck my cock like a good girl?” 

“Yes daddy.”

She smiled again, pulling down her shorts and boxers to reveal her cock. I licked my lips and she stroked it once before grabbing my face and pushing me down onto it. 

This time she let me set my own pace. Pushing down only as far as I dared to. I slowly worked open my throat. Drool spilled my face and onto my naked body. She was still fully clothed. 

She pulled me off of her, grabbing my face so she could kiss me. I moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto her thighs so I could get closer to her. 

“You’ve been so good for me, cleaning, cooking, like a good little wife huh?” I nodded eagerly. “I think you deserve a reward, what do you think?” 

“Really daddy?” 

“Yes darling.” She pet the hair on top of my head. “Now you said your poor pussy was hurting?” I nodded, “So daddy won’t fuck you there. But you still deserve your reward. How about I fuck your pretty little ass?” 

I hated that my core throbbed at the thought. But this would make her happy. Plus I hadn’t came all day…

I nodded, my hands playing with the end of her shirt. “Please, daddy.” 

She smiled at me, “Stand up.” She said, her voice gentle. I did, loving the way that she looked at me. She guided me to lay down on the couch, spreading my legs so she could sit in between them. 

I whined as she pulled out her fake cock. She kept all of her clothes on. She put the cock up to me, lining it up to my stomach. I sighed at the sight of it almost to my belly button. 

“Gonna be a good girl?” She asked as she reached into the drawer in the ottoman. She pulled out a small tube. 

“Y-yes da-daddy.”

“Good girl, now stroke daddy’s cock while I open you up.” I cringed at the cool feeling of the lube touching me but gentleness grounded me. It was so unlike her but I was so grateful for it. 

“Taking my fingers so well.” She whispered, staring down at my holes. Two of her fingers were inside of me, opening me up slowly. 

“Daddy please.” I moaned, “Need it.” 

I just needed her. I needed her inside of me, so impossibly close to me. 

“What do you need?” 

“Daddy please!” She pushed her fingers in and out of me, still not relenting. “Need you inside.” 

“But you’re not opened up all the way, honey.” 

“Please daddy. I don’t care please please please.” 

She smiled, pulling her fingers out of me. She spit onto my hole, dragging her cock around in the slick and lube. 

Natasha slowly worked the tip into me, having to push past resistance as I moaned underneath of her. She kept my thighs spread wide, staring down at where she was slowly pushing into me. 

Fuck it hurt, but daddy opened me up slowly. When she finally fully snapped her hips into me I couldn’t help the sounds and pleas that left my mouth. 

“Fuck princess, love having my cock burried in your ass hmm?” 

“Y-yes — daddy.” 

She snapped her hips again, causing my whole body to jolt. “Your pussy’s dripping all over.” She commented. 

My head emptied as she began to set a firm pace. Her hips snapped hard and fast against mine. Her hands gripped my waist, making sure to pull me into her. 

I could only think of her, I could only feel her. Wantons of moans fell out of my mouth but I didn’t even hear them. I threw my head back, staring up at my daddy. 

“Fuck—“ She grunted, fucking me faster. “God you’re taking me so fucking well, princess.” 

“L-love you, d-daddy…” I babbled out, my hands coming up to pull at the hem of her shirt. “N-need— please d-daddy need…” 

She slapped me but I welcomed the pain. Still a whine left my lips but she let me pull her shirt off of her. “Tried to be gentle…” She mumbled under her breath. Her tank top was thrown to the other side of the room. My hands couldn’t help reaching out to touch her bare skin. 

“Want you to be you, daddy.” Her eyes flickered to mine, her hands gripping my waist so hard. 

“You’re so fucking perfect.” 

I gasped as she changed the angle slightly, her body now hovering over mine. Her lips claimed mine, her tongue shoving its way into my mouth. Our nipples rubbed against each others, the touch instantly making my pussy clench around nothing. 

She pulled away from me, her fingers quickly replacing her mouth. She pushed her fingers in and out of my warm mouth. I moaned around them but she quickly pulled them out. 

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as her fingers pressed down on my clit. “Gonna cum with my fat cock up your ass?” She asked, her other hand gripping my throat. 

I nodded, chasing my high. I bucked my hips up at her. My hands squeezed her arm as she choked me. 

“Be a good little toy and cum.” 

Her words sent me over the edge, I felt my pussy fluttering still being ignored but I didn’t care. I felt so full with her in me. 

“Good girl, keep going.” Her fingers didn’t stop, neither did her thrusts. I screamed, trying to fight the pain and uncomfort to listen to her. 

I came again, screaming and throwing my head back against the couch. I felt her hot cum squirting into me as her hips stilled. 

“Love you…” I whispered, barely able to keep my eyes open. 

“Fuck.” She groaned. “Can’t be done with you…”

Still she pulled out, her cum pouring out of me. Quickly, she pulled me to sit on top of her. Her back hit the couch and she pulled me into a kiss. 

I grinded my hips onto her, kissing her desperately. I needed her. Never in my life had I felt so desperate for something. 

One of her hands reached around me and guided her cock back into me. She shoved me onto her cock but left me to sit on it for a moment. 

“Love you too.” She whispered, pushing my hair out of my face. “Don’t ever think I don’t.” 

“I’m sorr—“

“No, I'm sorry.” She carded a hand through my hair. 

“No, I’m sorry.” I said firmly. “You…you did all this for me — both of you. I-I should be more grateful.” 

“So perfect for me.” She kissed my cheek. She reached out for the tv remote. I just laid my head down on her bare chest. I kissed her warm skin as she turned on my favorite tv show. 

She grabbed her phone next and dimmed the lights. “Let’s try to stay awake for Wans.” She said, wrapping her arms around me. 

I left my head down on her chest, slowly rolling my hips on her. “Keep going, princess.” 

“Love you so much.” I mumbled, burying my face into her chest. Everything about her was so wonderful. She smelled and tasted beautifully. I felt like I could never get enough. 

“I love you too.” 

I sat up, so I could properly look at her. I bit my lip at the change in the angle. I began to lift my hips, moaning pathetically. 

“Fucking look at you.” Natasha moaned, her hands shaking up to light slap my tit. “So beautiful.” 

I had no idea how long I bounced and grinded on her cock. Eventually she carried me up to our bedroom, setting me gently on the bed. 

The second my head hit the pillow I was about to fall asleep. Natasha turned the lights off, settling in behind me. She pressed her cock back into me, but I loved it. I needed her close to me. 

I fell asleep in her arms and woke up eventually to another set of arms wrapping around the front of me. I mumbled her name and fell back asleep on Wanda’s chest. 

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: I can explain!

Eddie had just barely pushed his own bedroom door open before everyone, including him, was shouting and he clapped a hand over his eyes.

“I didn’t see anything!”

“You better not have!” Robin shouted at him and he could hear her pulling her shirt back down from where she just had it held up to her chin.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Steve’s voice came out as more of a high pitched shriek rather than how it usually sounded.

“Okay, because it looks like you were feeling up Robin’s boobies.”

“You said you didn’t see anything!” Something bumped against his forehead and based on the softness of the fabric and the smell, he guessed it was probably one of Steve’s polos snatched up from the nearby hamper.

“This is my bedroom! Sorry I don’t walk into my own bedroom expecting random naked women!”

“I can explain!” Steve’s voice sounded closer now and Eddie automatically reached his free hand out blindly for him.

“Excuse you, I am not a random woman! And I am not naked nor was I naked, I was just kinda topless!” Robin huffed. “And this is Steve’s room too!”

When his hand finally landed on Steve’s arm, he felt his way down towards his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Okay, then. Let me rephrase. Sorry I don’t walk into our bedroom-” he gave Steve’s hand an exaggerated shake, “-expecting to see you topless!”

Steve squeezed his hand back. “She said her boobies felt weird.”

“Have those boobies been put away?”

Robin made a disgusted noise. “Can you two stop saying ‘boobies’? What are you, twelve fucking years old?”

“Her boobies have been put away.” Steve snickered to himself, recoiling with a hissed ow when Robin slapped him across the arm.

Eddie had to blink a few times to get his eyes to adjust back to the light in the room but when he did, he found Robin thankfully fully clothed.

“Uh,” Steve shuffled a little on his feet. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not cheating on you with Robin.”

“Obviously.” Eddie pulled him closer, tucking his hand into Steve’s back pocket and giving him a little squeeze. “You’re not the cheating type and she’s as gay as Christmas.”

Robin glared at him with her hands on her hips. “I’m Jewish.”

“Gay as Hanukkah, then. Are your boobies okay?”

Robin glared at him again but shifted her eyes over to look at Steve.

“Everything seems fine, Birdie. Same as I told you this time last month. And-”

“And the month before that, yeah, yeah. I know.” She sulked, staring at the two of them for a moment before asking, “Do you have any vanilla ice-cream? And some sprinkles?”

Brought to you by my own monthly woes

[urcallousedbaby]

loco

ian o’neill smith fic -

you love your rapper boyfriend, but that comes with some sacrifices that you are tired of dealing with.

wc: 966

cabeza (fem-receiving), arguing (ian’s toxiccc), fem! reader, nose kink??

————————————————————————————

“and you’re gonna continue to fucking leave?” you yelled.

“you don’t give me a fuckin’ choice, blowing my shit” ian said pacing back and forth the living room of your guys’ apartment, looking for his keys.

ian and you have been going through a rough patch ever since he got off tour. he spends all his time at the studio now and you barely see him since you go to school and also to work. he had been hanging out at a bar which your friend had seen him at but you wanted HIM to admit it, not you tell him.

“so because i asked you if you’re going to the studio again you’re mad..?” you said with an apparent sarcastic and condescending tone.

“and then there you go, with that attitude, killing my vibe” he responded while proceeding to look for his white tee.

“yeah cause all you want to fucking do is run away from this, i’m asking you a simple question and you’re projecting acting like i’m the one going to bars flirting with other bitches” you said getting closer to him. he stopped in his tracks and turned around. his face scrunched up, his mouth opened like he was about to say some bullshit.

“yeah you thought i didn’t fuckin’ know huh” you scoffed.

“give me your phone.” you said. he “huh?”’d you and you repeated it more louder.

“we don’t need to check shit” he said while putting his shirt on.

“nah fuck all that, let me see your fucking phone ian” you said.

he went up to you and looked down at you, as if he was trying to size you down, you saw his phone in his pocket and you tried to grab it but he quickly turned his body to not allow you to get it.

“and this is why i don’t wanna fucking be here.” he said and then muttered something under his breath. you happened to hear the word ‘bitch’ come out of his mouth and that’s when a flip switched.

you grabbed the remote from the couch and threw it at him, getting all up in his face.

“yeah a bitch? i’m a bitch?” you repeatedly said while trying to push him out the door.

he grabbed your arms with hands and stopped you from shoving him. you were holding back tears as you hated arguing with him, tears were building up and his scrunched up face turned into a solemn expression. he let go of your arms and hugged you but you slapped him.

you ran into your guys’ room and then laid on the bed, silently crying, hope he would just leave since he wanted to so bad. all you wanted was some quality time with your boyfriend, was that so much to ask for?

you heard the door from your room open and just looked away from the door.

“look at me” you heard him say in a tired voice. you flicked him off and heard shuffling and him getting closer.

“bro look at me” he repeated again. you looked over and saw him, with a saddening expression to which he pulled you into his arms. you broke down into his arms and he pulled you tighter. he gave you a kiss on the forehead and then you looked up at him to then give him a kiss on the lips.

the kiss progressed gradually as this had been the first time you guys had actually gave each other attention in weeks. you cupped his face and pushed your body closer to him. he grabbed you closer as well and groped your ass, earning a moan from you.

he pulled away but bit your bottom lip as he was pulling away. the pain aroused you and you saw what he was doing. he was taking off his jacket and his shirt. he grabbed your feet and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, as he kneeled down at the end of your guys’ bed. you were thankful you had a pair of his boxers on with a baggy shirt. he grabbed the hem of the boxers and in one swift motion pulled them off and threw them near the hamper.

your eyes were drying up but your lower area was growing wetter, as if places were swapped.

“what the fuck am i doin. i’m sorry baby” he said and glided his tongue across your inner lips. you shivered in approval and he used both of his hands to hold your thighs in place. he spit on his hands and then on your lips, licking his own lips in the process, giving your small praises saying “so pretty” and then going in and sucking on your clit. the sudden feeling of arousal made your body jolt, to which you kind of bumped his nose.

that feeling made you moan, to which he started vigorously slurping, licking, and sucking on you. he added a finger and started to pump in and out. while he was using one hand to finger you, his other hand was reaching up to go under the shirt and feel your body, he would squeeze your boobs and finger the nub, making you even more sensitive and wet. he added another finger and you felt exhilarated, becoming a moaning mess. that wasn’t until he was trying to adjust himself and made his nose hit your clit again. you squealed and became light headed. when it happened again and he took notice. he took his fingers out and you whined from the sudden absence of nothing in you.

“my nose, you liked that shit huh?” he said with a shit-eating smirk. you covered your face from embarrassment and he said,

“hollon, i got something for you.” as he proceeded to lay down on the bed.

part 2?

——————————————————————————-

we need more ian writers this shit is ridiculous.

- j!

[iheartjohnlennon]

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Ringo

Had #1 co-writer & Ringo Starr lover/expert help me with this one 😁😁

A is for Aftercare (How he treats you after sex, what happens after sex, etc...) 

• You can count on him cleaning you up after. 

• A gentle wash cloth rubs up your leg, cleans your stomach, and gently wipes down your sore cunt. After doing all the cleaning, he tends to pepper your face in kisses and praises you for how well you did and how lucky he is to love and have you.

• If the sex was particularly rough, he will hold you to him until you get so sweaty you have to push him off! He can't help it, you're his girl, he wants you to feel loved! 

• He is known for his quick jokes and smartass quips, so expect some of that thrown in during the aftermath of sex. 

 

“Looks like you’ve just seen a ghost, love! I didn’t fuck you that hard, did I?”

     

B is for Body part (His favourite body part of yours) 

• Ringo is an ass man. 

• He loves your ass, he can’t keep his hands off of it. Grabbing, smacking, spreading - whatever.

• He'll smack it and grab it randomly, you'll giggle and tell him to stop.

• Usually if you both are alone, and you’re laying over his lap as you lounge - he’ll play a silly, little beat on it.

• He also loves the way it looks when you’re wearing one of his shirts and nothing else to lounge in. 

 

“Y’know, I think your arse makes better beats than my drums do.” He mused, slapping your butt with two fingers, before going back to playing the beat to one of the many songs stuck in his head.

     

C is for Cum (Everything to do with cum!) 

• Ringo loves a good cream pie. 

• He loves to feel the warmth of your cunt flutter around his length as he spills his seed deep into you.

• He sometimes massages your lower stomach with his thumbs as he pumps you full of cum, usually comes off as sweet - but it’s more possessive in his mind, he owns you and your womb. You’re being held in place while he takes what’s his.

• After he cums in you, he loves watching it drip out of you. 

 

“Say, birdie, do you usually take it like some filthy whore?” He was between your legs, watching as the pearly liquid oozed slowly out of your used hole.

His thumb and forefinger spreading open your folds, nose brushing against your flushed labia as his tongue poked out to lap up his seed.

     

D is for Dirty secret (Something utterly filthy that he did and/or does/and or wants to do behind your back.)

• He used to sniff your panties. Before you two were together and were only friends.

• He took you home when you got drunk. You insisted you were perfectly capable of getting to your bed.

• Your pubes looked nice, he liked that. But it was highly inappropriate for him to gawk and drool over his drunk friend. 

• And yeah, he still does when you’re gone or asleep. When he’s away, he usually pockets a pair and jerks himself off with them after he sniffs them.

• Filthy, filthy man.

 

“Nuh uh, Richie, I-I can…can do it! Seeee?”

You stumbled up the stairs, knees knocked together as you nearly toppled over each step.

“Love, you’re about to fall. Let’s get inside, yeah?” He sighed, ushering you into your room.

“If I was soooo drunk, could I do this?”

And before he had time to get you to lay down, you were taking your clothes off. And there you were, lounging on your bed naked.

“Oi! Hey! Get your clothes back on!”

He turned around, hands covering his eyes as he tried to lose the boner he was sporting.

He eventually got you tucked in, you only agreed to sleep if he stayed until you slept. and so he did.

You were knocked out cold, and he went to clean up the mess that you made before you rested.

All that was left was your cute panties.

They were frilly and dawned with a cute bow at the top. He didn’t want to grab them, not with his hands. But he had already put all your clothes away in the hamper.

He eyed them for a moment, before his baby blues locked onto a slick spot in the middle of your knickers.

He sniffed them. 

     

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?) 

• Ringo was sick most of his young life, and never properly lost his virginity until he met his first girlfriend when he was in his 20s. 

• The most he did before was kissing and fumbled touching, perhaps a bit of fingering. He’s always been good with his hands.

• Now, with that being said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to fuck.

     

F is for Favourite position (How he loves to fuck you.)

• Ringo is a romantic guy. He adores missionary.

• Sure it’s a bit boring to some, a classic, but he can see your tits bounce each time he rams himself into you. 

• He can also see your lips quiver as you try not to moan, your eyes rolling and your lashes fluttering as you whine and cry.

• It's also his preferred position because he can see the outline of his dick poking in and out of you - filling you up balls deep.

• He thinks you look like a beautiful angel splayed out beneath him. His beautiful angel.

• 10/10 position.

• He also likes doggystyle, but that’s usually reserved for his days when he needs to relieve stress. Or when he simply wants to fuck the shit out of you.

     

G is for Goofy (How silly is he during sex?) 

• Ringo tends to crack jokes at the worst times. His humour is just like that, so he will totally be joking during sex.

• Your cunt made a slick sound that sounded funny…you bet he already has a comment to make about it, something silly. 

• When he eats you out, he does the little head shake his bandmates are known for. And after he’s done, he looks up at you with a dopey grin.

“She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Followed by the head shake.

 • After being a bit goofy, he'll go right back to being serious…and serious means making you orgasm. 

     

G is also for Goal (What's his goal and/or dream in relation to sex.) 

• His goal is to make you walk with a limp, his goal is to fuck you way past orgasm. 

• With how big his dick is (8 inches!!!), he definitely leaves you sore. But oh no, that’s not good enough, not at all.

• He wants you limping and waddling the next days, hell, if you’re not whining that you’re sore in the morning he’ll pin you down and fuck you until you do.

• He absolutely adores over stimulating you with his cock - until your eyes roll into the back of your head, until you can't breathe, until the sheets are drenched with bodily fluids.

     

H is for Hair (How well groomed he is, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

• He barely has leg hair, let alone chest hair. so his pubes are well kept.

• They’re not curly and unruly, they’re straight and aren’t too long.

• Also, don’t worry if you have pubic hair. Ringo doesn’t mind.

 

“Well, I don’t mind…y’know, I always fancied having a moustache!” 

     

I is for Intimacy (How romantic he is during sex, etc..)

• He is a hopeless romantic. He wants it soft and slow, and usually that’s how it goes.

• He never calls it fucking. It's always referred to as ‘making love.’

• His hands are always on your body, whether that be holding your hands above your head while he rocks into you - or his hands being placed on your hips as he thrusts.

• Will play some old vinyls of his during it, too. Usually some old Elvis records. The music really compliments it all. He'll sing the lyrics to you - whisper it in your ear as he does. a bit cheesy, but it makes you both smile.

• He won’t cum unless you guys are kissing, or unless he's looking you dead in your eyes - or both…

     

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon.) 

• He barely masturbates. Will only do it as a last resort of sorts.

• He spent his teenage years jerking off, so it’s just not as stimulating anymore. It's almost boring. 

• But if you guys are away from each other for too long, he’ll call you up on the phone and do it. Not really phone sex, but just hearing your voice will soothe his ache for you.

     

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks in relation to you.) 

• Ringo has a humiliation kink. He loves embarrassing you. Even if it’s something as little as making you beg for more. 

 • But most of the time it’s him making you masturbate in front of him and letting him watch. He loves to see your flushed face look to the side, as you bite your lip and nervously touch yourself.

• He has some weird pet play kink too, but not in the way you think. He’s not into collars or cages, none of that. He just loves calling you his pet. Depending on the partner, they’re either called his puppy or his kitten. He loves treating and spoiling you like some fancy poodle.

     

L is for Location (Favourite place to do the deed.) 

• Prefers the bedroom. He gets embarrassed doing it anywhere else. 

• You once tried doing it in the back of the car during a long ride to the hotel, and he kept getting nervous and mumbling about how the press would go absolutely wild if they saw.

• Of course he’s fine with doing it with you anywhere where there are four walls and a door. So, a broom closet would work as well. But his favourite has to be the bed, any bed.

     

M is for Motivation (What turns them on about you, gets him hard, makes him cum, etc..) 

• Your hands. Your hands get him going.

• They’re so soft and small compared to his dry and calloused hands. He loves how smooth they feel against his skin, and how they radiate such warmth. 

• If you brush his hands with yours and give him a look full of love, he’s ready to pounce. 

• Your smile also gets him going. You’re just so beautiful that he can’t help but feel lucky - and feeling lucky gets him going.

• Honestly, the easy answer could've been you.

     

N is for No (Turn offs, what pisses him off, etc..) 

• If you make a remark about his nose. 

• He knows everyone does, but it hurts coming more from you. If you make a joke involving it - he will not even think about touching you until he does. 

• He’s an insecure guy… 

     

O is for Oral sex (Does he prefer giving or receiving? How does he give, how does he receive?) 

• Ringo loves eating your pussy. 

• He loves slotting his tongue against your core and licking up in harsh stripes. Also enjoys biting your clit once or twice, just to keep you on your toes.

• He doesn't favour oral sex on him too much. He got a lot during his prime, and it was boring to him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy it every now and then.

• He’s big, he knows his dick isn’t fitting in your mouth comfortably. 

 • You wouldn't be able to deep throat him without literally choking. He wants to go balls deep into your mouth, but he knows you wouldn't be able to handle it. You always swallow him a little less than half way.

 • When you suck him off, it's nicely dragged out. You trail your tongue up and down his shaft, you suck his tip, massage his balls.

     

P is for Pace (Fast or slow? Rough or sensual? Ect.) 

• Ringo is usually a slow lover - at the start at least. His thrusts are gentle and soft starting out, they only get rougher the longer you fuck and the closer he is to cumming.

• The clapping noises fill the room. 

• He likes it to feel romantic and full of love. Like stated before, his rough and fast pace are reserved for his stressed days - which is almost everyday.

     

Q is for Quickie (His opinion on quickies, how often they happen, etc..)

• He doesn’t like quickies. Nuh uh.

• He wants you all to himself with all the time in the world, with all the space in the world.

• Buuut, if you are desperate enough, he’ll cave in and fuck you.

     

R is for Risk (What kind of risks will they take.)

• The most he’s willing to do is fucking you in a shared hotel room with either John, George, or Paul.

• He still is hesitant to do it, but he’d rather fuck you around people he knows as opposed to any prying eyes and ears he doesn’t.

• You're both probably a bit drunk as well. 

 

His hand was covering your mouth, as your knees dug into the bed below you both.

George was asleep in the other bed, not too far from yours. His face was turned the other way, he seemed to be snoozing - you hoped he was. 

That made Ringo feel a bit better about fucking you in the same room as him.

Your eyes were shut tightly as he slowly slotted himself into you, a finger pulling your panties to the side. 

He began his light thrusts, desperately trying to avoid the creak of bed springs as he did so.

“Mmph!” You softly moaned against his hand.

You were unable to shake off the feeling of his cock stroking your walls. It was an instant pleasure, his tip rubbed against your g spot nicely and consistently. 

“Fuck…” You breathed, feeling it clenching around him.

He tightened his hand against your mouth and leaned into your ear. “Keep it quiet, birdie, Hazza might wake, you don't want that do you?”

Ringo sped up a bit, your wetness started sounding as he did so. His free arm pulled your hips up so you could better meet his thrusts. 

“Do you? Do you want George to hear you getting fucked?” He asked again, wanting an answer.

He slowed down, going from tip to balls at a moderate pace. 

“N- no.” You whispered back, strained. 

You fucked him back, he'd only thrust back harder - the soft, clapping noises ensued. 

Your toes curled, Ringo continued his forward movement. 

It got louder and louder with each thrust, now it sounded like you were both full on fucking. 

“Baby…” You mockingly warned, mindful of the younger man not too far from you. Though it sounded more like you were just moaning.

“Mmhm…shh…shh…I'll make you cum, don't worry.” He groaned, sounding cocky.

Shit. 

Did George just cough?

S is for Stamina (How many rounds he can last, how quickly can they cum, etc..)

• It feels like an Olympic sport keeping up with him. He lasts way longer than you, by the end of most of your sessions you're breathless, sweaty, dazed, confused. 

• He can do two rounds, at least. 

• He lasts around 20-50 minutes each round.

• But his foreplay can go on for hours if he’s in the mood and has the time for it. 

• He cums around two times. Usually once in the first round (between the 15-25 minute mark. Then the second time he cums is around the 45 minute mark.) As for the second round? That's usually when you’re about to orgasm.

• He’s a generous guy, really.

• He rarely ever cums quickly. That's just impossible for him. This is why he hates quickies, he always leaves rock hard.

T is for Toys (Does he own toys, use them, what kind of toys, etc?) 

• Oh, he owns toys. 

• He has a cock ring that he bought personally, it helps keep him harder, like rock hard. He loves the ache of being hard, he loves his stiffness. The ring makes his cock all red and veiny, and makes his balls heavy. And it's all for you (and your holes).

• He also has encouraged you to buy some for yourself. He doesn’t think it makes him less of a man - even a dildo bigger than him. Whatever makes you feel good, makes him feel good.

• He’s once tried your vibrator. He was curious…it didn’t feel too good against his dick so he never spoke of it. 

• He likes using your toys on you. Fucking you with your own dildo, using your vibrator on you as he fucks you.

 

You were out shopping with him, your arm linked tightly around his.

You stumbled upon a small, curious shop on the high street. He seemed to know exactly what it was because he didn't even let you think before he dragged you into it! 

You looked around, realising, the innocent looking shop was a filthy one, a haven for pleasure.

“Buy something.” Ringo said, taking your hand.

“What?” 

You laughed, almost stunned.

“We aren't leaving this shop till you buy something for yourself, sweetheart.”

“Something? Like what...” you teased.

     

U is for Unfair (How much does he like to tease you, how does he tease you, etc..) 

• He’s super fair. He hates teasing you. 

• If you’re not having fun, he’s not having fun. 

• He teases in some kind of way, but it’s never for long or never torturous… it’s usually a quick touch, or a sly remark. He falters as soon as you give him that look that says stop.

• So he’s a bit whipped in that sense, definitely.

     

V is for Volume (How loud is he, what noises does he make, what does he say, etc..) 

• He’s not too noisy, but he groans and huffs, like a bear almost.

• He does those long, deep sighs when he finally gets himself settled in your walls. You feel so warm and snug around his length, he can’t help but let out a sound.

• But it’s never loud enough for anyone but you two to hear unless they're in the room or something.

• Grunting and praising you through it all.

• “Such a pretty girl, taking me so well.”

     

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon.) 

• He's really into humping just as much as he is into being inside of you. He likes the sloppy pace and how desperate it is.

• He once had you sat in his lap, and you both got handsy. It ended up with you grinding yourself against his thigh and his stiff cock like a dog in heat. He'd bounce you up and down, practically fucking you with his clothes still on.

• He was into it. Definitely into it. Definitely creamed his pants.

     

X is for X-ray (His cock.) 

• Let's be straightforward here. 8 inches, thick, uncut. 

• Yeah, he is very hung. 

• It definitely slaps his stomach when he pulls it out.

• It’s awfully obvious when he has an erection too. Even when he's flaccid his bulge is still obvious. 

• Ringo Starr is not a grower, it’s usually 5-6 when soft.

I want it in me so bad 

Y is for Yearning (His sex drive, how much do they want you?) 

• His sex drive isn’t too high, but if you’re not by his side when he’s asleep he finds himself missing you.

• He tries to have sex with you three days a week, he doesn’t think sex is a need. He’s more into soft intimacy and gifts.

• But this doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. He just loves you too much to not only crave you sexually. 

• He craves you in a way a man craves water. It’s a necessity to have you, whether that be sexually or not.

     

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• After sex and cleaning you up, he wants to rest with you. Not in a sleepy way. He just loves basking in the afterglow.

• It usually takes him a while to fall asleep anyway. He doesn’t mind it though.

• He gets to watch you sleep peacefully and that’s the best way to end his night. You, curled into his side, and him, smiling like an idiot.

@legendaryskeletonpicklewolf

@zeppelin-groupie

🩷

Aaaaand that's the end of this alphabet, but of course, more to come.

Check out the masterlist for more works!

[perkqularkreashions]

Living with the Enemy, Joe Goldberg x Reader

Part 1: Last Nice Guy in New York??

Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.

Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|

Warnings: Mature Content, Manipulation, Stalking, Slightly Proofread.

It had been some time since you last spoke with Peach and her willing and obedient entourage. You blissfully ignored them, avoiding the usual hangouts and skipping daily walks with your son. You took different routes and dined at other eateries, and for a while, you enjoyed this simple and slow-paced lifestyle. 

It was a particularly warm day in New York; the increasing winds had died, allowing you to turn off the space heaters that litter your apartment. You relished the smell of cleaning products and baby formula rather than burning rubber. You watched as Rafi bounced around in his walker from his room back to the living room. His hand slapped against some trinket that sang a quick tune of “You are my sunshine.” It was probably his favorite plaything on that bouncer, but it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. The loud and high-pitched continuous loop of "you are my sunshine... my only sunshine", but he loved it, so you endure it. You cracked open the window, allowing the fresh air to filter into the apartment, the warm breeze washing over you briefly before returning to stillness. Contently, you sighed. Your eyes flickered to the door; a hesitant knock followed by two more confident knocks. You shuffled off the couch, unable to gaze through the peephole due to the grime built up over the years. You mentally noted that you need to tell the landlord about that. Unlocking your three deadbolts, you pressed your ear against the door, hearing the muffled female voices.

You opened the door and noticed Peach, Beck, Lynn, and Annika. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, Peach charging into the apartment. Her eyes glanced around as she brightly smiled at Rafi before returning her cold gaze to you. She crosses her arms, waiting for you to fill the silence with an apology. The tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, palpable and suffocating everyone as they all watched you, their once easy rapport replaced by an uneasy silence. Every word left unsaid seemed to echo between them, filling the space with a sense of unease that was almost tangible. You chuckled before turning away, gathering some of Rafi’s items out of habit. “You don’t just go MIA for weeks like that!” Everyone slowly shifts into the apartment; you feel suffocated. “I called, you never answer.”

You plainly answered, “I know.” You shoved some clothes into the hamper before returning to the group. You tried to think of something to say and formulate something harsh and crude to say back to Peach and her brainless minions that followed her every call, jumping at the snap of her fingers and pleading for some sort of acceptance from her. You sighed, sitting on the sage-colored love seat, your elbows resting on your knees as you rubbed your temples gently. “Peach, you and your…whatever this is. Can happily get the fuck out of my apartment. You can’t just storm into my home and expect me to drop to my knees begging for you to what…forgive me?” 

You felt the couch dip next to you, the smell of her engulfing you. It iterated the fuck out of you yet offered you a warm feeling. She was home; despite her manipulation, gas-lighting, and bitch behavior, she was home. You finally looked at her, your face growing warm as you pressed your lips together. Her smile growing as she knew, she squealed, wrapping her arms around you. “Say you forgive us… me?” You nodded against her before pulling back. “Great, let’s go out to eat! We’ve missed you and have lots to catch you up on!”

You nodded, pressing a feigned smile on her lips; Annika smiled, wrapping you in a brief, one-armed hug. She was followed by Lyn, who seemed more than pleased that you had returned. They moved away, gawking at Rafi as they spoke with him in an annoying, high-pitched tone. They were flashing toys in front of him before snatching them quickly as he giggled loudly. You stood beside Beck; an awkward silence washed over you both. Beck wanted to speak… she wanted to ask if what Peach had been filling in her head was true. Suppose you had been trying to pine after Joe; how would she feel? She admitted her feelings for Joe were growing; she liked having him around and the attention he provided her when Benji was off on a binge of whatever drug would provide him with whatever relief. “We missed you… I missed you,” Beck spoke, cutting through the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, bumping into her shoulder and offering her a half smile. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.  

“I’ve been dying to tell you about everything, I mean everything,” Beck whispers through her laugh as she watches you for a moment. Beck confided you about everything; you weren’t judgmental and never gave advice—you were just a lending ear that she craved in the whirlpool that was Peach. You sighed, knowing that no matter where you were in your life and how far you thought you had escaped Peach, she was always lurking in the shadows, ready to devour you at any minute.

You hummed softly, your hand occasionally, moving the visor back to check to see if your son was still alive. Your hand fluttered in front of his face; quickly, he reached for your fingers. You had spent most of the morning shopping for groceries and wanting to find some fresh produce. You gathered green apples, strawberries, and some blueberries. It has been a slow-paced morning; class was canceled, you were finally caught up on your assignments, and only needed to grade some papers from some of your classes. You hadn’t seen Peach since your lunch date with the girls two weeks ago. It was spent, for the most part, talking about Beck’s choices in men and the plethora of men that have taken her to bed… all this steaming from Benji ghosting her. You didn’t know what she saw in him, but he was a poser and couldn’t hold down an idea, let alone his own business. She had fucked, Mr. Bedroom Eyes, someone that she had met in the library, all while leading on Joe and worrying about Benji.

Your eyes shifted slightly; noticing him underneath the navy-blue baseball cap, he examined the fruit before placing it down. You smiled brightly, peering left and right before approaching him. You stuttered for a moment; wait is it weird that you were approaching him? Did you even need to say hello? You stood behind him, mindlessly watching his gaze at the fruit. Weaving through the throngs of people as your eyes held steady on him, your hands tightening against the stroller. Panic surged through you, threatening to overwhelm my senses as your hands hesitantly reach out to his shoulder. Joe jumped as he spun around; a toothy grin fell on his lips as his eyes shifted to Rafi. “Sorry, this must be weird.” You quickly tried to explain, and yet there you stood. 

“No!” Joe smiled, “No weird at all.” He watched you, taking in your beauty from the curve of your lips to the furrow of your brows. Your eyes are a soft color, filled with so much emotion. He contained his excitement, continuing to handle the slightly ripe peach in his hand. A soft breath of relief escaped your lips; Joe watched you, taking in every moment, from the twitch of your eye when you smiled to the slight tightening of your hands against the stroller’s handle. Were you nervous? You didn’t need to be! I am all yours! Joe’s thoughts muddled aggressively through his head, his eyes concentrating more on your slight movements, the way you shifted your weight to your left hip as you stood there, watching him. Your index finger nervously taps before stopping.

“Good, I thought it’d be weird if I recognized you in this crowded space,” you laughed; it was soft. A small smile crept on his face as he moved closer to you, a single step to be closer to you. You slightly shifted, leaning against the stroller as you pushed it in front of you before bringing it back. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his goofy take hold of his lips. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded hesitantly; he stepped forward, watching you walk away in the crowd, occasionally wiggling your fingers in front of your son’s view. 

“Are you alone?” Joe mentally cringed as you paused, peering over your shoulder in confusion, “I meant, I could keep you company while you go shopping… If you don’t mind.” Do you mind? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Joe thought; he watched you ponder his offer, and you fully faced him as you smiled, nodding at him. Joe joined you, shoulders bumping into each other as you continued to walk through the farmer’s market. Looking at the different herbs and vegetation sprawled on the tables, you fingered at them, rubbing your fingers with a concentrated look on your face as Joe pushed Rafi. Joe watched you in awe, his hand gripping against the stroller in angst and yearning. He watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear; you quickly turned to him, putting a strong-smelling herb in his face. He winced as he swatted at his nose; you laughed softly before agreeing with the saleswoman that the left one was more pungent. 

“My mom made this weird-tasting soup for me when I was sick, but it always helped. It helps when Rafi has a little bug. He hates it; he scratches at my arms when I force-feed it to him.” You laughed, showing him the small craters in her skin that hadn’t healed properly. Joe took your arm, letting his thumb trace over the craters. “He’s so mean when he wants to be; I guess he gets that from his dad.” Joe watched you, taking in every word that was said. 

“His dad hit you?” You were stunned; you placed the herbs in your tote bag before looking at Rafi, making a slight face and tickling him. Joe observed you, your face tense as you seemingly tried to feign enjoyment in the brief time with your son. He watched how you weren’t standing so close to him; your shoulders still touched every again, but not the same as before. Joe cursed at himself for bringing it up; Joe hated that he made you feel so small and helpless again. You froze at the sound of your name; Joe noticed it, too. He peered over his shoulder seeing someone rush to you, his hand waving wildly as he began to jog to catch up to you. He called your name again. Joe’s eyes flickered at you, and you were frozen, eyes wide in fear. Joe leaned closer to you, but you were snapped out of thoughts when the man stood directly behind you. You slowly turned, now facing the stranger. Joe watched the man; something about was familiar, the curve of his lip and the bushiness of his brow. His hair was long and pulled into a rendition of a man-bun with some pieces falling in front of his face; he was clean-shaven and muscular. His skin was a deep cooper color that glistened but wasn’t sweat…more of an oil-based lotion. 

“It’s been so long!” he smiled with a bright smile, teeth perfect and in a row, no obscurities or imperfection. He tried reaching out for a hug, but you backed away, letting a small smile rest on your lips. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to for Joe to notice how uncomfortable you were. “Who’s this?” His eyes never left yours. Joe could see the intimidation in his eyes, and his smile never reached his eyes when he spoke. 

Joe moved the stroller before him, stretching his hand in the process; a bright smile rested on his lips. “Joe.” The man didn’t acknowledge him or care for his name. Finally, he passed him a glance, his face churning into a distasteful look. His eyes moved to the stroller, and as a bright smile crossed his lips, he bent down for a moment. Wiggling at Rafi’s shoes, speaking in a babbled baby talk before looking up to you again. 

“You know he misses you and him; you shouldn’t run away. Especially with his child.” The man spoke, and he stood to his feet. “See around.” He spoke before brushing past you. Joe grabbed your arm, and you winced momentarily, flinching away from him. Your eyes finally connected with Joe’s; you sucked in a deep breath before grabbing unto the stroller. A sense of comfort washed over you. 

“Thanks for today… for this. I appreciate it,” you hummed. Joe nodded, watching you walk away; his eyes focused on the man who had ruined your perfect day together. It started innocently enough, stumbling into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Plunging into the maze of crowds, Joe found himself, trailing the stranger, drawn by the same curiosity that everyone in the market has. Joe shadowed his movements, picking up a weathered journal or a fruit that was slightly ripe. His eyes cut to the man every chance he had gotten. As Joe meanders through the maze of makeshift booths and colorful displays, the man he’s following remains blissfully unaware of his presence. They weave through the crowd, partaking in a dance that only Joe is aware of. 

“Dom! Dom! Dom Batista! As I live and breathe in the flesh it is you!” Joe groaned at the dramatic nature of New Yorkians, every word that stumbles out of their mouth an illicit affair with Shakespeare and a Soap Opera. “It has been so long since we’ve last seen each other!”

Joe followed behind you, face low as he watched you hurriedly move through the streets, passing men and women alike. 

Batista….Batista….Batista is the name of a Judge in New York City; their mother was an actress who starred in plenty of movies before her fall from grace and getting addicted to cocaine. They had three children, three boys: Jonathan, the oldest—who was a criminal defense attorney. He was married with two sons. He didn’t post on social media, but his wife, Mary Glassgo, came from an Affluent family in Virginia who had established wealth through “other means.” during the late 1700s, did, in fact, post and posted often. She was overly descriptive and pictured all the locations where they dined, shopped, and vacationed. She was on a trip with her two sons, enjoying the mountains in Vermont.  The caption was, “Can’t get away from life all the time, but when I do, it’s always with my two favorite boys.” Joe followed you across the street, scrolling through her Instagram until he came across a photo from Thanksgiving; he dragged his thumb across the screen, revealing a picture of her and another man who looked similar to Jonathan, tagged was St_Do_Batista. Dominick, the middle— Joe, recgonized him as the man he saw today; he frequently posted almost every day at the gym. He was a professional boxer; his face wasn’t riddled with too many lacerations and scars, which indicated that he was good at his craft. He had a girlfriend, one of many girlfriends. They all came and gone, as soon as a new one would be posted with a bright smile, not knowing her fate. Petite blondes, curvy brunettes, tall red-heads, even some bald girls with tattoos riddling every surface of their bodies.  

“Hello….” Joe thought; he scrutinized the photo, and you were smiling, your cheek pressed against him as you embraced him. He just won a fight; he hugged you tight. Joe scrolled to the following image… it was a video; he played it. You giggled as he spun, cheering as one hand held you tight against him. You spoke gently, words that the camera didn’t pick up, nor did anyone else. He continued to scroll as he noticed that most photos were of you cooking in his house, at the park with him, on his couch with the laptop tucked on your thighs as you carefully examined whatever was on the screen. You took up a majority of his life and then nothing. Joe saw a picture of him and another look similar to the Batista family; he clicked on the tagged name. RafiBat didn’t post much, but when he did, he generated a lot of attention from women. He was a boxer, too, and he and his brother were often referred to as the Basista Brothers. He didn’t post you often, once or twice; that was in photos with Dominick. But it was evident that you both were friends. He was attending a university known for its Marine Biology program. He had been traveling overseas, where he had been for the last few months, pictures of him with sharks, fish, turtles, and some other classmates. There was a picture of you, smiling brightly in his bed with her belly exposed; it was small, possibly in the early months of your pregnancy. His caption read “My Everything.”

Joe’s attention was averted to the left as he noticed someone briskly walking, eyes concentrated on you. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. He spoke before hanging up. Did you not notice? Did you feel someone following you? Joe broke off in a sprint, laughing softly before calling out your name; you peered over your shoulder in confusion, hesitating as you squinted your eyes at him. 

Joe’s body collided against yours, taking your hand as he smiled gently. “Why’d you run off like that? I was looking for you everywhere!” he calls out exaggeratedly loud, his hand falling at his side; he watched your wide eyes swiftly snap to him while he continued to guide you forward, Joe’s hand pressed on your lower back. “Someone has been following you,” he whispered through a gritted smile. Her body stiffened as his words echoed through the stillness in the air; you were tempted to look, her head inching to the left slightly. “No, don’t look… Just keep walking baby.” You hummed in understanding. Joe peered over his shoulder, watching the man avoiding the dim street lights, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his body focused ahead of him, but he could see the whites of his eyes and the darkness of his orbs staring deep into your side. Then Joe remembered the small encounter you had at Peach’s party, the drunken party-goer grabbing you, retelling his woes of missing their friend group and a man who seemed to miss you just as much. Your body reacted negatively, your eyes watering, and your skin paled as you stumbled away from him.  Joe watched your hands dance against your face, trying to wipe the anxiety that was trailing through your body. Joe wanted to lead you home, protecting you from the evils lurking in the shadows you weren’t aware of. Joe allowed you to lead you both to your apartment complex. Joe swiftly grabbed Rafael, allowing you to close the stroller. You put in the code 76477; Joe held open the door as you shuffled in your hands, digging through your satchel in search of your keys. He noticed three locks; just as if you practiced this a hundred times, you easily unlocked the door. 

Joe smelled deeply, taking in the scent of baby powder and your aroma. Rafael rested against his neck, his chest breathing gently as he slept. His tiny breaths could be heard as they smacked against his pacifier. Joe scanned your apartment again; it was vastly bigger than Beck’s and his. His eyes fell on an opening; it wasn’t too big but just big enough to have a window, an oak-colored crib decorated with white and green. “You can just set him down in there…He won’t last too long in the crib,” He heard your voice as you locked the front door. You were latching on the deadbolts and other self-brought knick-knacks. Joe set Rafi down, brushing his hair out his face; he squirmed slightly in a panic. Joe quickly turned on the mobile, slightly out of reach for Rafi. He pressed a button; the mobile began to hum to live, and soon, water sounds came on. Splashing, sounds of whales and dolphins, and what seems like rain hitting the waters. It was soothing, and Rafi’s face soon mellowed. Joe allowed Rafi to hold unto his finger; his grip was tight as his body sprawled on the crib’s mattress.

“He usually isn’t so peaceful to put down. He must like you.” He heard you whisper; Joe peered over his shoulder, watching your head pressed against the door’s frame. Joe removed his finger, returning his attention to you. You walked out of the room as Joe followed you. The silence washed over you as you paced around the room, trying to find the right words. Joe stood there, waiting, allowing you to take as much time as needed. 

“Joe?” You finally whispered, your eyes finally landing on him. In that moment, Joe felt your souls tying together, latching and burning into each other. “Thank you.” you pushed out, tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. 

“I noticed him following you after the market…I didn’t know what to do but when I saw him trying to cross the street… Who is he?” 

“Dominick, my ex’s brother. Rafi’s father.” Joe nodded; you trusted him, you trusted him. You weren’t a liar like Beck, “Dom and I were close; I even thought we would be together, but then he got a girlfriend. He stopped coming around, that’s when I met Rafael, he was gentle at first…but I guess that was the point. I had a fling with him and then with his brother, shit just got messy fast, and I got pregnant. That’s when he got abusive… I tried pressing charges, but his dad always dropped the cases, saying that I was a daughter of a junky prostitute and a “john.” I asked for a different judge and each time I was denied. I was finally….finally allowed to get a restraining against him, but it expired, and I wasn’t allowed to renew due to no current impending dangers.” Joe watched you; he stepped close to you, grabbing your arms. You sighed, looking up at him. 

“If you need anything, anything… I am here for you.” Joe whispers; you nod, folding your arms underneath each other.

Please ask me to say; please beg me to stay. Joe thought; he nodded as he moved away from the couch. “Joe, wait!” You stood up, “You don’t mind staying for the night, do you? I would feel comfortable with a man around the house… just for the night.” Your voice is soft, and Joe could tell you needed him. He couldn’t deny you. He peered over his shoulder and smiled. 

The night progressed as you lay in the bed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Your eyes squeezing shut, trying to feign being asleep in hopes of tricking your mind into slumber.

“Joe, are you sleeping?” You called out into the darkness, “Joe?” You called out once more, panicked; you sat up quickly squinting through the darkness as you watched his chest slowly fall and rise. You sighed for a moment, shifting comfortably in the bed.

“Yes?” 

Joe rises from the couch, groaning as he shuffles to you. He crawls into bed, and you open the covers, allowing him to slide in. His eyes were low from being awoken from his sleep, his hands tight as he observed you move closer to him. You craved his warmth; a sense of comfort and protection seeped through to you. Your eyes focused on Joe’s, watching through the stillness of the night and the slight light that the moon gave you. His hand gently reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear, holding onto the strand until he reached the end. He moved closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He held it, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want to push himself onto you; he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to be like your ex or your father. Joe pulled back, your eyes fluttering open hesitantly, and you moved closer to him. Your lips molded together, smacking in the silence as your slight hums vibrated into his mouth. He pulled away; you were vulnerable and seeking out comfort in him. He needed to wait to see if this feeling rang true. He wanted you more than you could know, more than he thought possible. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this, not right now… not ever. He cuffed your cheek, kissing your forehead before you, wishing you a good night.

Burning something evoked a wide range of emotions in Joe, a symbol of something new shifting in the atmosphere. The flicker of a match igniting, the scent of smoke swirling in the air, and the crackle of flames consuming the body— the overwhelming sensory experiences that engage him in the death of Benji. He stood over the growing flames, watching them dance against his body; Joe thought he would feel at ease. He couldn’t–his mind racing back to you and Rafi. Joe grew angry, feeling compelled to kill Benji; he was powerless against the woe of Beck, her smile and innocence being stripped away. It's as if his autonomy is being stripped away, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. The heightened feelings of frustration and resentment began to grow through this loss of control. 

He thought of you as he smelled the charred remains of Benji, your face dancing in the flames. He sighed, pushing his forearm against his brow. He quickly dialed you; he needed to hear your voice. 

“Joey?” Joe heard you whisper, soothing all anxieties that rushed through him. His hand gripping the steering wheel. “Joey? Everything alright?” He hummed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. It has been one month since he had forced his way into your apartment, leaving articles of clothing behind and coming up with any excuse to stay the night, not that you minded. He had a key to your apartment now, coming in the mornings and getting Rafi together for daycare as you prep for classes and graded papers. Your glasses hung off the bridge of your nose while you gnawed on the cap of the pen—your eyes shifting from the monitor to the paper as you scribbled some markings on it before moving on to the next. The way his lips danced against yours, his hands gently caressed your skin as your lips tangled.

“Yes, everything is alright.” He heard you shuffling, the covers shifting off your body. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, Joey, no, you didn’t. What’s wrong?” You could always read him; you would always tell. You didn’t even have to look at him to see that something was picking at him. He knew that you were good for him; you were everything that he needed you to be. Joe remained silent; the only that was heard was Rafi’s babbling. “Just come over and well talk, okay.”

“Okay.” Joe hung up and made his way to you, his head spinning from his recent murder. His fingers trembled as he pulled down your street, finding a parking spot adjacent to your apartment building. He moved out of the car. His key jingled in the locks swiftly; you swung open the door, watching in bewilderment. Worry drawn on your eyebrows and lips. “Joey, what is going on? Was it—”

“No…no, just Beck.” You nodded for a moment, allowing him to enter the apartment; slamming the door, you proceeded to deadbolt the locks. You stared at the final lock, trying to compose yourself; he wasn’t yours. You were just friends. Why did it hurt at the mention of her name at the thought of him being at her apartment, embracing her? “She just makes me insane, always having to watch her and look out for her. All the lies and the—” You picked up the clothes that scattered the floor, tossing them in Rafi’s dirty clothes hamper. Mindlessly, you grabbed the toys, tossing them in a bin as they interrupted his sentence. 

“I see.” was all you could mumble out, your eyes flickering to him. He continued to ramble about how he didn’t trust her–how she was always so secretive around him. But that was Beck; the doe-like look in her eyes always masked the truth that crawled beneath the surface. She was manipulative; everything she did was calculated and meticulous. Her bold red lip contrasted against her pale skin, and her dress revealed just enough of her thigh to keep her professor yearning for more. The way she teased and poked at man’s most animalistic and primitive yearning, dangling it in front of their face before yanking it. You turned to face him, letting the hamper fall against the floor. 

“I frankly don’t want to hear about Beck. I understand she’s your girlfriend or whatever she is but, I can’t take hearing about her. When you’re sitting in my apartment, helping me take care of my son… playing house with me. I don’t want to hear about Beck. I get enough of her when I am with them. Every issue that plagues her, I hear about, all the damn time. Benji, you, the Captian. I can’t–I just can’t do it.” You turn away, heated you move into the bathroom face burning with embarrassment and angry. Angrily you slapped at the knob, turning on the hot water on. It screeched for a moment before the hot water spit out.

As you step into the shower, the hot water cascades over your skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil. Droplets dance across your body, carrying away the remnants of anger and frustration that cling to you like a heavy cloak. With each passing second, the tension melts away, replaced by a soothing sensation of renewal. You close your eyes, allowing the water to envelop you completely, washing away the Beck and Joe's monologue that echoed in your mind. Steam fills the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you stand beneath the gentle stream, letting it cleanse your body and soul. Slowly, the weight of the conversation begins to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and calm. In this sanctuary of steam and solitude, you find solace. You sighed as the shower opened; you saw his feet planted in the shower and the sound of a soft sigh resting in the air. You feel his hands gliding against your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips pecked your shoulder, sucking in the aroma that cascaded around him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”  His hand gently drummed your abdomen, his cock hardening against you as he pecked at you, his hands moving to your breast, kneading at them slowly, letting his fingers squeeze and tug at your nipples. 

“Please, forgive me” he whispered; you couldn’t say no to him. So, you nodded, turning around fully to face him. Pressing a gently kiss against his lip, stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel as you instantly moved to Rafi’s crib. 

As the tears streamed down his Rafi’s flushed cheeks, Joe’s heart ached with empathy. With gentle hands, he lifted the sobbing child into his arms, cradling him against his chest, his hand rubbing circles against his back something that he noticed his mom and he liked. Leaning close, he murmured soothing words in a soft, reassuring tone, his voice a balm to the boy's distressed soul. With each gentle stroke of his hand and whispered promise, Joe felt the tension begin to melt away from his Rafi’s trembling form. He rocked him back and forth, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of his own heart, a silent vow to always be there to chase away the shadows and dry the tears. Joe moved back your bed, and you reached out your arms, allowing Rafi to settle into your chest and Joe to cuddle back into your side. Rafi was a crybaby and wanted you to hold him 25/8; you wanted to break him out of that habit. Joe and you had been working on getting him to sleep through the night in his crib, it would only last two nights out of the week before Joe caved and dragged himself to Rafi’s crib, engulfing him in his arms. You didn’t bother to correct him; you could tell that something was off with him. You two didn’t speak much after your moment the shower; you didn’t try to get him to speak either.

A heavy knock on the door had woken Joe; he hissed in frustration, moving the walker out of the way as he stumped his toe against it. He looked back, seeing Rafi whining for him, his arm stretched as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed. Joe scooped him up, snatching your phone and checking the time—7:37 AM. He grunted as he moved to unlock the deadbolts and finally the door. The door swung open, revealing Peach. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Joe; quickly, she shook her head, trying to find the right words to say but couldn’t. Peach observed him, eyes squinted in fury and confusion. “She’s sleeping Peach.”

She called out your name, moving into the living room, her eyes falling on you as you lay in bed. Her head snapped to Joe, realizing that he was in his boxers. “What the fuck! What did you do to her?” Peach asked as she tried to grab Rafi. Joe stiffed her and backed away as she continued to reach for your son. 

Joe held Rafi tightly in his arms as Peach had her outstretched arms and a determined frown on her face. Ignoring Joe’s protective grip, Peach reached for the child, her fingers brushing against Joe’s before clasping around the little one's hand. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of protectiveness welling up within him. He pulled back, his hand resting against Rafi’s back as he watched Peach’s face morph, her eyes narrowing before he turned her attention to you. 

“Peach? What–What are you doing?” You shifted from the covers, you were in a grey crewneck, a B printed in brown and outlined in red. Your hair messing tied away from your face as you squinted to fully focus on her. 

“No! No—what are you doing?” She hisses, stomping towards you, your finger jabbing into the air as she throws her hands dramatically. 

“Peach, he was just—I saw Dominick. Since then, he has been here for me. Nothing… Nothing else has been going on.” You shouted over her rambles. Something in her face changed; she slammed her mouth shut, looking at you, taking in your words. She grabbed the back of her arm, holding it tighter to her person. Joe noticed the slight change in her demeanor at the mention of Dominick; he scared her. 

“Did you–” You quickly shook her hand, stretching out your hands for Rafi; Joe quickly moved to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rafi crawled into your lap. Joe’s hands rested on top of yours; he pressed his lips against Rafi’s head before cuffing your chin. He rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, placing them on his clothes. He jiggled his phone before leaving out of your apartment, a silent single for you to call him when she leaves. “When did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. He just was here for me at the time and… I trust him.” Peach laughs, sitting on the bed. 

“Trust him, absolutely not. You know he’s playing you just like he’s playing Beck!” You rolled your eyes, unsure of what to make of her accusations. I mean, they weren’t incorrect in their entirety. Joe had a fleeting romance with Beck and probably still does. “He’s using you. I lost Beck to him, and I am not going to lose you. In this stupid ideology where you think you need him! You don’t need him! I am here for you; call me if you are feeling scared; call me if you are feeling down!” 

“I know” you mumbled, caressing Rafi. “I shouldn’t trust him” you confessed. “I really shouldn’t” a bitter laugh left your throat as you chocked on a sob that rose in your throat. 

“He could be like Rafael! You are so blinded by love that you didn’t see it then, but I did, and now, I do.” Peach whispered, as she inched in Joe’s spot. Resting her head against your chest, her hands wrapping against your torso. 

 Joe stood outside the closed door, his fists clenched at his sides, he strained to hear the muffled voices from within. Anger simmered beneath his skin, fueled by the snippets of conversation that reached his ears. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veneer of his composure. He could hear her strained voice, a mixture with a Peach’s voice—a voice that grated on his nerves like sandpaper. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling with tension as he fought the urge to burst through the door and confront the source of his jealousy head-on. The temptation to intervene, to demand answers, pulsed through him like a steady drumbeat, drowning out reason and restraint. With every passing moment, his anger mounted, a raging inferno threatening to consume him whole. Yet, for now, he remained on the other side of the door, a silent witness to his own unraveling emotions. Something needed to happen, Peach was always in the way, the intricate dance of relationships that she always blocked. Stepping on his toes and stealing you away from him. Tangling you in her grasp, the same spell that Beck was under.  She was a figure looming in the background, casting a shadow over any potential romance that Joe worked so hard to grow and nourish. Her presence was like a shield, deflecting any attempts at romantic advancement with a casual remark or a well-timed interruption. 

He needed to kill her; her undoing was all the fault of her own. 

Goodbye Peach Sallinger. 

[chrrry-pie]

Kinktober with Wade Wilson/Deadpool

day 4: sexting

Summary: Wade has been away on a mission for couple days and he’s missing you already

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It wasn’t even a week since Wade left to go deal with some mercenary business in China. You knew he was a merc, obviously, but you never asked for details of his work. Just that he stays safe and to bring you a little trinket.

It was the same this time. Kissing him passionately on the doorstep of your shared apartment, wishing him luck, telling him to stay safe and to bring you something cute.

What you didn’t expect, is him texting you that he misses you writhing 36 hours of his departure.

Red🎀: I miss you baby

You: Baby you’ve been gone for a day and couple hours

Red🎀: I know

Red🎀: im sitting in my hotel room

Red🎀: im so fucking hard right now

Your eyes almost fell out of your sockets at the text. Sure, you’re used to his dirty mouth, his texts and the constant state of half boner, but this was a bit unexpected even for him.

Red🎀: sent photo

There it was. The tent pitched in the hello kitty pyjama pants you got him for Christmas. And you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t like the sight. Downloading the picture and quickly putting it in your ‘Dickhead❤️’ folder.

Red🎀: sent photo

Red🎀: sent video

Red🎀: look what you do to me, sugarplum

Your jaw hit the floor at the next picture and video. Hello kitty pyjamas pulled down just enough to let his swollen weeping cock out. Just the sight of the dripped at the slit made your mouth water. The video was a short one of him pushing on his cock, letting it bob and twitch before wrapping his hand around it with a piece of fabric around. The fabric…they were your panties! You recognised the white fabric with the small pink hearts.

You: Wade

You: is that my underwear?

You: please tell me it’s clean

Red🎀: yes. Unfortunately it is clean :,(

Red🎀: I would’ve taken it out of the hamper but they were already in the wash

You: WADE

Red🎀: sent video

Once again, it was a video of his cock. His scarred hand wrapped around it with your panties, wiping his precum on the crotch of the undergarment. Your breath shuddered as your hand slipped under the waistband of your matching hello kitty pyjamas.

Red🎀: sent voice message ‘fuck, baby. God you make me so hard. I wish I could be with you. Feel your tight pussy. She’s always so good to me’

You whimpered at the voice note, your fingers circling your clit. Watching the video of him jerking off with your underwear playing on repeat as you got yourself off. It didn’t take long for you to reach orgasm with the sound of his groans and the sticky slaps in the background of the video.

Red🎀: sent video

That was all you needed to see to make you happy. A video of him gasping, his hand tightly squeezing his cock, thick ropes of cum landing on the crotch of your panties.

Red🎀: I love you baby

Red🎀: I miss you so fucking much. Just want to cuddle :,(

You: I love you too baby

You: just couple more days and you’ll be home again ❤️

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: sheesh. It’s almost end of October and I’m on day 4. I just got super busy and no inspiration but hopefully I’ll finish it by the end of November 🥹

[pascalispretty]

hold me down

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: somnophilia, implied consent (they've done this before), fingering, prone bone, daddy kink (sue me), reader has a bit of a praise kink, D/s vibes, AU where Emily doesn't exist

Summary: You only moved in a few days ago, but Miguel is already reaping the benefits. (ao3)

A/N: whew, it's been a minute since I wrote for Miguel. That stupid final season totally zapped my desire to write for him for a good while. You can thank @misscharlielulu for sending me the gif that started this whole idea, and @loveletter444-kb for being such a supportive gem. Title is from 'hold me down' by Halsey. Tumblr ruined my gif banner, so alas it's only still images. There is a version of this story that involves anal if anybody wants it 🫣

Miguel still isn’t used to coming home and finding you in his bed.

You’ve only been living with him for a little over a week. When he comes home a little after one in the morning, he’s preoccupied. The contract for the latest land deal is on his mind, all of the tiny details that have to be tended to and carefully managed. He’s somewhere in the middle of planning the ecological survey when he steps into his bedroom and is momentarily surprised by the sight of you asleep in his bed.

Your bed too now, he supposes. He’s given you permission to change what you like in your new home, but you haven’t made any decisions yet beyond asking for a bigger closet. He wants you to feel at home here, wants to satisfy every whim you might have. Making room for a few more racks of dresses feels like a small price to pay for your contentment.

Miguel shoves the thought away from his mind, focusing his attention on you as he gets ready for bed.

You’ve rolled over onto his side of the bed in your sleep. Your face is pressed against his pillow, he notices smugly. Even in your sleep, you can’t get close enough to him. You look so peaceful, not a care showing on your pretty face as you nestle into his pillow. The bedsheets are a mess around your legs, your body not quite acclimated to the desert heat of Santo Padre yet.

Miguel strips off his three-piece suit methodically, his eyes on the rise and fall of your chest as he undresses. His clothes go into the hamper, leaving him naked. He can’t be bothered to find a pair of pyjama pants; he’d much rather feel you pressed against him.

He walks around to his side of the bed to plug his phone in, footsteps silent on the rug. You don’t stir, even as he gets closer, even when he’s standing right beside you.

It’s when he’s stood right beside you that he sees why the sheets are in such a tangle.

You’ve managed to kick them part of the way off you, but they still cling around your calves. It leaves your ass and thighs sticking out from under the covers. You couldn’t have posed for it better if you’d tried. The silky slip you wore to bed is rucked up around your hips, showing off the lacy panties you’re still wearing. He wonders if you got dressed up for him before falling asleep.

For a long moment, Miguel just looks. He’s enjoyed having you living with him for the past ten days, but it feels like the full potential is finally occurring to him.

He can enjoy you like this whenever he wants.

Nobody has to jet halfway across the country, or traipse up to a hotel room. You’re right here, exactly where he wants you. It’s the perfect remedy to such a long day.

He can only keep his hands to himself for so long. When the two of you were coping with hotel visits and brief stays, you’d often maximise the time together by waking the other up for sex. He’s lost count of the amount of times you’ve woken him up with your mouth around his cock; he’s equally beyond numbering the times he’s woken you with his fingers or his tongue (and once, so memorably, a slap).

Carefully, so you don’t stir, he sits on the end of the bed. He reaches out carefully, brushing the back of his hand so gently against the curve of your ass that he barely feels you. It does make you shift, almost imperceptibly. He does it again, your skin so warm under his fingers that he sighs.

Miguel loves you like this; soft, sleepy, malleable.

Turning his hand over, he lets his fingertips wander over your supple flesh. You make a soft, contented noise that’s half-muffled by the pillow. It makes his cock twitch, makes him hungrier for more. His fingers sweep upward, coming to rest at the juncture of your thighs.

He can’t feel you properly through the lace covering your cunt. For a moment, he lets his fingertips rest against the outline of your slit. One of your legs moves, and he waits to see if this will wake you. Instead, you just seem to be shifting, getting more comfortable. Satisfied that you’re still asleep, he lets his fingertips press a little more firmly, his index finger tracing lightly over your clit.

Miguel swallows thickly, uncomfortably aware of how hard he’s getting. With his free hand, he reaches down to adjust himself. He’s not surprised to find that he’s already half-hard. If anything, he’s surprised he’s not so stiff it hurts; not when he has you tucked up in his bed, waiting to be played with.

He moves slowly, carefully tracing and teasing at the outline of your cunt over your underwear. More soft sounds start to escape you, little hitches in your breath and quiet whimpers. Every noise goes straight to his cock. Other men wind down with alcohol; he has you to get drunk on.

It doesn’t take long before he can feel your slick starting to soak into the lace of your panties. It starts as a tiny wet spot right over your entrance and it takes all his willpower not to yank your underwear down and bury his tongue in you. Instead, he keeps playing with you, tracing firmer circles over your clit until the lace is thoroughly ruined.

Carefully, he hooks a finger around the crotch of your underwear and pulls them to one side. It gives him the barest peek at your pretty cunt. It’s enough to make his mouth water on instinct. You squirm in your sleep, and he wonders if you can feel the cooler air of the room hit your soaking folds. He lets his fingertip touch your bare flesh, shivers licking down his spine as he feels just how wet you are.

Part of him is curious about what will finally wake you up. It’s that part of him that makes him tease your entrance with his fingertip, coating his skin in your slick. You give a shuddering gasp as he slides his finger inside of you, but you still don’t wake. He moves slowly, deliberately avoiding the spot on your walls that makes you quiver when he hits it. You’re more restless with his finger inside of you, squirming at the intrusion and curling your hand in the sheets. Your hips buck a little, the sight of you trying to fuck yourself back onto his finger in your sleep making him feel like a man bewitched.

Miguel knows he’s tempting fate when he adds the second finger. He thrusts slow and deep once, twice, knuckle deep inside you when he finally hears it.

“…Miguel?”

****

It feels like you’re dreaming at first. A blissful wet dream that makes your toes curl. You’re not sure what exactly wakes you, only that you eventually become aware of two long, thick fingers carefully working inside of you.

“…Miguel?” You ask, your voice thick with sleep. It’s disorienting, waking up so agonisingly close to coming.

“Hi, baby.” His fingers don’t stop moving. If anything, he lets his fingers curl a little now he knows you’ve awoken, pressing against that spongy spot inside you. Your brain feels foggy with sleep still, miles behind your body as you abruptly crash into the pleasure of his touch.

“Daddy’s home,” whispers something deep and primal in your mind.

“Oh God, Miguel- ‘s so good,” you manage as he moves his fingers a little faster inside you, sending more heat lancing through your veins. You have no idea how long Miguel has been playing with you for, and that somehow makes it even hotter. Every thrust of his fingers makes you moan, your back arching into his touch.

“Need you to be a good girl and come for me,” he murmurs, his voice low with arousal. You do as you’re told, rocking yourself back on his fingers. It doesn’t take you long at all to tip over the edge into a blinding orgasm, one that hits you like lightning and leaves you clutching the pillow so hard your knuckles go white. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as Miguel works you through your climax, dragging it out until your legs quiver.

The loss of his fingers leaves you feeling devastatingly empty, and you whine at the feeling.

“Ya lo sé, baby.” His fingers find the waistband of your underwear, tugging them impatiently down your legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. Once they’re off, he moves you towards the middle of the bed, leaving him enough room to climb in beside you.

“Miguel-” you start, trying to turn to face him. He doesn’t let you. One of his large hands curls around your shoulder, pressing you forwards.

“You sound tired, amor,” he says, even as he rolls you onto your stomach. “Do you want me to stop?” His weight settles over you, pinning you down against the mattress. The press of his warm, broad body over yours pulls at that tension in your core, threatening to start building again.

“No! ‘m not too tired.” It’s a lie; you’re exhausted. But your need for him overrides all practicality. “Please, daddy.” If he doesn’t fuck you now, you think you might actually cry yourself back to sleep.

Miguel’s mouth finds your ear, nipping carefully at the lobe. He’s hard against the curve of your backside, and the two of you groan together as his cock presses against your slick folds.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck. He gives an idle thrust of his hips, the head of his cock brushing against your clit and making you cry out under him. “Perfect, pretty girl,” he continues, one of his hands disappearing between your bodies as he lines himself up.

The blunt head of his cock swipes through your folds again, and you tilt your hips up for a better angle. You barely have time to enjoy the feeling of him notching his cockhead against your entrance before he sinks into your cunt, filling you so exquisitely that you think you might actually black out for a moment. The stretch of it pulls a sob out of your throat. It’s a pathetic little noise that makes him smirk smugly against your neck.

His hands find yours, his palms covering the backs of your hands and lacing your fingers with his. It’s somewhere between pinning you down and holding your hands, and it only adds to the tension coiled tightly in your core.

Miguel starts fucking you slow and deep, every measured roll of his hips making you cry out against the pillow. He lets go of one of your hands just long enough to push your hair out of the way of your neck. His beard prickles the delicate skin as his mouth nips and sucks at your throat. You can feel him everywhere, on every inch of you.

The lines between you begin to blur in your mind, until you’re hard pressed to say where exactly you end and he begins, and it’s still not enough. In this position, he can hit so deeply that you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against the very end of you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans mixing together, and the slap of skin. Miguel’s breath is ragged against your ear, and when he licks a line up the column of your neck, actual tears well in your eyes.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you gasp into the pillow. “You always make me feel so good.” Miguel only groans in response, and you can’t help but feel gratified that, for all his words before, he rarely manages to keep talking once he’s inside of you. It makes you feel powerful. Even when he has you pinned like this beneath his body and the bed, even when he’s woken you up to use you, you have the power to leave him speechless.

It’s utterly intoxicating.

Miguel loses his patience before long. He speeds up his thrusts, hips snapping roughly against you. All you can do is make choked little ‘ah’ sounds, half-muffled by the pillows. You cling to Miguel’s hands as you tip over the edge of another devastating climax, your whole body shuddering in what little space you have beneath him. Tears squeeze out from beneath your lashes as you screw your eyes shut, your body feeling too small to contain the heat tearing through you. It must hurt, the way you’re gripping his hands, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead he fucks you harder as you clench down around him. His teeth find your neck again, pulling a feral sound out of you as he tightens his arms around you, holding you closer, surrounding you utterly. His hips grind against you as he comes, pressing himself flush against your body as though he can somehow force himself deeper.

Miguel stays there, his breath ragged in your ear as he starts to come down. His fingers slip from yours and it makes your hands ache as the blood flows back into your fingertips. Slowly, reluctantly, he moves off you. You can’t help the hitch in your breath as his cock, still half-hard, slips out of you. Slick drips between your legs, a mix of his come and yours. Some perverse part of you likes it, gets a thrill out of him making a mess of you. Tired as you are, you don’t bother to clean yourself up.

Instead, you let Miguel pull you into his arms and nestle your head against his shoulder. You move blindly, your eyes still closed.

“You must be so tired, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice back now he’s no longer inside you. You nod into his shoulder; the adrenaline high of your orgasm quickly gave way to such a drop that it’s a wonder you didn’t fall asleep while he was still fucking you. Miguel wraps an arm around you, his hand resting at the curve of your backside as you get comfortable.

“One last thing,” he says softly, squeezing your ass. “You’re not allowed to wear underwear to bed unless you have a very good excuse.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you mumble into his chest. Your eyelids are too heavy for you to open them again for more than a second. All you see is the briefest glimpse of his chest before they close, and you can’t reopen them. You can only yawn and nuzzle against his warm skin, enjoying the way his thumb is stroking your skin.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you won’t do it again.”

****

You wake up to an empty bed. It’s a little disorienting; the lack of Miguel makes you wonder if the night before hadn’t been a particularly vivid dream. You stretch out, something cracking in your spine as you starfish out on the huge bed. It’s been days since you moved in, but you’re still not used to having quite so much space in bed.

You’re too hungry to linger long.

Instead, you slip out from the tangle of sheets and throw on a pretty, light robe. It was a gift from Miguel, like most of the lingerie and nightwear you currently own, and you can’t help admiring yourself in the mirror for a moment. The colour brings out your eyes; he has such lovely taste.

The house is quiet as you make your way towards the kitchen. There’s faint music coming from somewhere, deep within the house, but you can’t quite pinpoint it. You don’t know everyone’s schedules well enough to know if it’s the maid listening to the radio as she cleans, or the gardener working outside. You’re not even sure if Miguel is home or not. It’s a strange feeling, to feel so detached from what’s happening inside your own home.

You’re so convinced you’re alone that you jump when you see Miguel. He’s sitting at the head of the dining table, a mug of fresh coffee in hand and a leather portfolio spread out in front of him. You’re still not used to seeing him in such a domestic setting; from the bare feet to the robe thrown over his black vest and pyjama pants, it feels a little like seeing a teacher outside of school.

“Good morning, mi amor,” he says with a smile when he notices you. He holds a hand out for you, and you take it eagerly, letting him pull you onto his lap.

“Morning, sweetheart. I didn’t sleep in too late, did I?” You ask, making yourself comfortable on his thighs. Miguel wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as you settle, and kisses your temple.

“No, I’ve not been up long myself. And I thought you could do with the rest after the very warm welcome you gave me last night.”

“Oh. Not a dream then.” You can’t help the flush that spreads across your skin, making your cheeks burn. It’s no different in practice than what you and Miguel would play at in hotel rooms, or on your fleeting visits to Santo Padre, but it feels different now. It’s not out of a desire to maximise his time with you; it was simply because he came home needing you. Your insides twist pleasurably, and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Not a dream,” he confirms, his lovely dark eyes boring into you. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes you look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. It’s soft, but with an unmistakable demanding edge that makes you squirm.

“Do you know what I realised last night?” He asks, catching your chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and forcing you to look up and meet his eyes. “That my days at work are going to feel a lot less tedious now I know I’ll be coming home to you.” He lets go of your chin and leans closer, his lips brushing the delicate shell of your ear.

“That’s romantic,” you manage with remarkable composure as his lips ghost over the bite-mark he left last night. Your hands grip a little tighter to his shoulders.

“Mm. Coming home to you waiting in my bed. Ready for me to use.” A little less romantic, you suppose, but any comeback vanishes from your head when he traces the line of your throat with the tip of his tongue.

“God, always. Whenever you want.”  You mean it too, insane as it might sound to an outsider. Miguel gives you everything you might ever want, makes you feel adored and cherished and desired in a way no other man has even come close to. Why wouldn’t you want to give him the same?

“I always want you.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @burningtacozombie @ben-c-group-therapy @90sisthenew80s @beccabarba @christinabae @pear-1206

[yandere-fics]

Reader attempts to hide from Rayna cause Rayna wants to fuck too often but Rayna keeps finding them anyways and dragging them to the bedroom.

♡ Rayna's Sister Is Hiding From Her ♡

Unfortunately your wish not to be found by Rayna was much more difficult than you originally thought because the people of the manor were frankly terrified of the way Rayna behaved when she could not find her dear sweet sister so they would often tell her where you were the moment she seemed even a bit agitated and attempts to dodge her kisses only made her more aggressive and made encounters last longer. You'd need to rethink your strategy when it came to hiding if you wanted not to be found. At this point though you basically knew every nook and cranny of the manor so finding a hiding spot was less a manor of having to look and more having to make sure there was no servant watching you like a hawk. usually the safest method to make sure of this was to go into the manor's library alone and use one of the passage ways to get out but people were starting to catch onto that too. Still even if you were eventually dragged back to Rayna it was worth it to have a few hours where she wasn't trying to show you her all consuming affection for you.

"My songbird! Please come out, I don't want you getting hurt! Remember yesterday you were stuck in that pantry!" You were not stuck but when Rayna saw you in an area she would consider dangerous for you to be in she automatically assumed you must have been stuck. The kitchen was now unfortunately locked to you. Today you were in the laundry room, hidden in a hamper under a pile of towels as Rayna tore apart the manor looking for you. Rayna usually never looked here but you think she was growing desperate and the servants were starting to get really worried. You really didn't care about what they were thinking though, you'd come out if she threatened to hurt one of them but right now they were in the clear so you were going to stay put.

"If my songbird is hurt somewhere because you failed to keep eyes on her, I will kill you and your whole family." And that was your cue to come out. You stood up out of the basket, towel falling to the floor as Rayna dropped the servant who's shirt she was holding, her expression brightening upon seeing you. She didn't acknowledge how you'd just heard her threaten a servant instead just walking over to you and picking you up out of the basket, carrying you bridal style. "I missed you songbird, never hide from your big sister again please."

"Only if you give me a break please, I can't keep doing this every day." You whined as she started to head to… the bedroom one again. It seemed she had no intentions to listen to your plea today either.

"Shhh, I have to show you how much I love you, don't worry I'll be gentle." She always was at first but the longer sessions always got rough towards the end and you had no doubt in mind this would be a long session. You almost wished you'd stayed in the basket. Especially since the laundry area would also most certainly be locked to you in the future. "It's cute when you act like you don't want to." You were going to slap her. Not that she'd feel in because in the past when you pushed her away she said your tiny hands felt adorable. Whoever decided to let her be this large would pay for your suffering…

Rayna on the other hand was grateful you couldn't see the state of the rest of the house after she spent an hour searching for you.

[huckleberrykai]

hueningkai ~ laundry basket

pairing: perv!fem!reader x mean dom!hueningkai summary: when kai finds his sweet precious girl with his dirty shirt in her face and her hand down her pants he has to teach her a lesson. genre: SMUT minors dni you will be blocked. warnings: perv reader, clothes sniffing, fingering, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cum eating, kai slaps reader with his dick LOL, kinda possessive?? not rly tho, gagging, swearing (i luv it when he says fuck lmfao sorry not sorry), mouth spitting, creampie, i think that's it?? maybe a lil angst at the end (insecurity) if u squint but fluffy ending notes: this was supposed to be a drabble but uh. yeah i got too excited. thanku anon for sending me the perv reader idea sjkdnhk i hope u like this ! and thanku ashlee for the brain fuel :3 word count: 3.6k click here for my masterlist!

kai first asked you out because he thought you were the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. your shiny eyes and happy smiles had him falling before he could think, and soon it was the two of you against the world. as time went on kai thought it was funny how adorable you were from the outside, but inside... you're absolutely insatiable.

you think he doesn't notice the way you're always drooling over him - the way you're always subtly feeling him up whenever he hugs you, squeezing his strong arms or letting your hand slip up his hoodie to feel his tummy.

he assumes physical touch is just your love language at first, which he loves, but then he sees how you react to anyone else touching you... shying away like you hate it. he never comments on it but it definitely makes him feel special <3

what he fails to see (or so you think) is just how much you're affected by him - how you rub your thighs together every time he picks something up and flexes his muscles or whenever he throws you a flirty comment with a wink. when first you got together a few months ago, you both agreed you'd take your relationship slowly... but you were starting to regret that decision every night when you'd fuck yourself open with your dildo wishing it was your big strong boyfriend drilling into you and spouting filthy, sinful words instead of a piece of plastic with his cute, completely clean voice notes echoing in the background.

you started to find yourself taking his clothes and basking in his scent every night when you'd fuck yourself to the thought of him, and it was all too much - but somehow still not enough.

he of course starts to notice his clothes going missing, frantically looking for his favourite hoodie he's so sure he left on his bed... he finds it a week later when he comes over to your house for a sleepover - crumpled next to your bed. he doesn't mind, he must have just forgotten he leant it to you - so you cuddle up and all is well.

until he asks if he could take a shower after dinner. he casually grabs his spare clean clothes from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom attached to your room. he slings his t-shirt he's been wearing the whole day into your hamper carelessly and waddles off to the shower. you stare at the hamper for a good few seconds, willing yourself to be good and not take it - but of course, his desperate pervy gf can't help but sneak in there and grab his dirty shirt >.<

you bring the soft fabric up to your nose and take in his natural scent mixed with the lingering of his favourite cologne he sprayed this morning. you feel an impatient dampness growing between your legs and jump back into bed, clutching the shirt tightly in your fist. you slide on his favourite hoodie crumpled by your bed - which has lost his scent by now - but it still makes you feel completely surrounded by him :3

you feel ridiculous. you're in his hoodie, shoving your face into his worn shirt... and you can't help but let your hand slip into your shorts. kai would be out of the shower soon, and you couldn't let him see you like this... so desperate and perverted and so so obsessed with him, but you need to get off. he was driving you crazy.

who in their right mind was that obsessed with their own boyfriend and still didn't have the courage to ask him to fuck them? you, obviously.

your thoughts wander to his big hands and how much better they'd feel down your pants than your own, and you whisper his name like a mantra as you move your fingers as quickly as possible so you could just cum and hide his shirt before he gets out. unfortunately for you though, kai finishes his shower quicker than usual and almost runs out of the bathroom when he can hear what sounds like crying and panting on the other side of the door.

he comes out in all his glory in only his sweatpants and a towel around his neck to check on you, just to see his precious girl humping her hand with his dirty clothes shoved in her face chanting his name >.<

"hey... what's all this hm? needy girl."

you panic and rush to throw the shirt away and pull your hand out of your shorts, which only makes him chuckle darkly - a scary grin gracing his lips and a look in his eye you'd never seen before.

"cutie if you wanted me so bad you could have just asked... but you chose to be a gross little pervert and go through my laundry instead hm? and you couldn't even get yourself off~ pathetic."

his scolding makes you tear up and try to look away, but he's quick to hover over you and grab your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. he grabs the hand you had been playing with yourself with and takes the first few fingers between his lips to suck on them gently.

"you need some help?" he asks softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

"'m sorry hyuka. you probably think i'm disgusting..." you sniffle. he shakes his head and laughs a little, mean facade breaking to make sure you really were okay with this. "it's okay baby. sniffing my sweaty shirt is a little gross though~" he teases. "is this the first time you've done this? or do you fuck yourself over my clothes all the time? hm?"

he's just trying to humiliate you at this point, but he can tell you're enjoying him bullying you a little. so he continues...

"do it all the time.." you hiccup in response. "'m sorry 'm so gross and yucky."

"'m sorry if you hate me... please don't leave." the tears stream down your cheeks again and he kisses every single one away between mean chuckles as you sob.

"ah i don't hate you baby~ i'm not going anywhere. but you understand i'm gonna have to punish you for being such a yucky girl right?"

you can only nod, still blubbering with red eyes and splotchy cheeks. to say you're flustered would be an understatement - to be caught in such a compromising position and then finally have kai hovering over you like this, hair damp, no shirt and being so passive-aggressive has you soaking through your panties. he was so sweet, you never expected him to fulfil your wildest fantasies of domming you so harshly~ but then again he never expected you to bring it out of him so fast either.

he makes quick work of pulling off the hoodie and your shorts, leaving you in only a bra and your translucent underwear. he pushes your legs open and settles himself between them, running his long fingers over your panties.

"so wet already... are you seriously getting off on this? on being a disgusting little pervert? you know i see how you look at me every day, i should have expected this from you."

"no!" you squeak in an attempt to save the last of your dignity.

"don't fucking lie to me."

his words are laced with venom, and he deliveres a harsh slap to your thinly covered pussy, causing you to yelp.

"now lets try this again. are you seriously enjoying this? me humiliating you like a pathetic little slut?"

this time you nod. there was no use in lying to him, especially when he's like this.

"words cutie."

"yes!"

"good. yucky girl isn't so stupid after all."

he rewards you with a sweet peck on the forehead before he pushes your panties to the side and finally touches you where you need him most. he rubs your slick over your folds before plunging 2 fingers into you without warning.

"ah-!" you whine at the protrusion, and kai kisses your lips harshly.

"shut up." he mutters against your mouth. you try your best to keep quiet, but whenever a sound would slip past your lips he'd slap your clit harshly. he fingers you quick and harsh, the feeling so intense you feel like you could burst at any second.

"please.. please let me cum!" you beg as his hand speeds up. you could have cried even harder when he decides to pull his hand away completely, placing your uncomfortably wet underwear right back in its place.

"no. no i don't think i will."

"please! no! no! please keep going!" you cry, trying to pull his hand back to your core. "hueningie please..." you pout, tears spilling from your ruined orgasm.

"being cute won't work on me. not after i caught you fingering yourself like a fucking slut. you haven't earned it yet princess~" he sings playfully as if he isn't torturing you. delicious torture.

"on your knees. on the ground." he orders. no please, no trace of your sweet boy on his face - you're in trouble. and you're LOVING it. clearly he is just as into this as you are, even slapping your ass hard as you crawl across the bed to get on your knees on the pillow he'd set down for you - he is a gentleman after all.

"be good for me and i'll fuck you just like you want me to okay? open your mouth."

you do as he asks with no argument, opening your mouth and fidgeting in your cold damp underwear. you almost start salivating at the sight in front of you as kai stands up and unties his sweatpants before pushing them down to free his gorgeously flushed dick. you watch as he moves over to your door, grabbing the belt tie of your bathrobe hanging from the back of it. you knew what was coming before he even had to ask, and so you hold your arms together behind your back.

"so now you're desperate for me to tie you up too? fuck you really are a pervert. come on. admit it." he spits from behind you, looping the fluffy rope around your wrists and typing them tightly - though not tight enough to hurt.

"wh-what?" you ask, bewildered.

"don't act clueless. tell me you're a pervert."

"i'm not-"

"i thought i told you already, don't fucking lie to me darling. it won't end well for you." he takes his place standing in front of you, the backs of his legs pressed against the bed. you're eye level with his cock - hard and girthy and huge. you open your mouth for him and lick up his shaft softly - but he pulls you back with a scowl.

"nuh uh. not until you say it."

he takes his heavy length into his hand and slaps your cheek with his cock harshly. "come on."

"i- i'm a-"

"louder."

"i'm a pervert! i'm a pervert for you kai!" you almost shout, tears threatening to spill at the embarrassment.

"good girl. not so hard was it baby? my pretty perv~ stick your tongue out."

he taps his tip against your lips and tongue before pushing himself into your mouth. he encourages you to suck him off properly and groans at the sight of you taking as much of him in your mouth as possible. you make eye contact every now and then - tears brimming to your eyes and spilling so beautifully down your cheeks.

"more."

you hum in protest, he's big - but he gathers your hair into a bunch anyway and pushes you down on him. his tip hits the back of your throat as your lips almost touch his pelvis - but you can't bring yourself to complain about gagging when he moans so pretty with his eyes squeezed shut.

you swirl your tongue around him as he fucks your throat, and he seems to like this since his whines only increase.

"so fucking good. little perv knows how to do something right- fuck. gonna cum down your fucking throat." he whimpers. his brutal pace makes your throat constrict around him which only brings him closer to his high.

"you better swallow every drop." he warns.

and you know better than to get him angry now, so you blow him until he shoots his whole load in your mouth. he pulls out fast and you splutter a little, trying your best to swallow it all down. he taps his tip on your tongue again, letting the last drops of his release land on your awaiting tongue.

"perfect princess.. my slut.. so good." he sighs. "you look so pretty with my cock down your throat like that."

you smile up at him sweetly while he tucks himself back into his sweats. your eyes are pleading for his help, and he figures you deserve your reward.

he's not making it easy though <3

"you want your reward? want me to fuck you dumb baby?"

"please hyuka.. need your cock please.. 't hurts."

and so he happily unties your arm restraints and lifts you up, throwing you on the bed like a ragdoll. you squeal when he drops you, and your eyes blow wide when he straddles you, ripping off your bra and forcefully grabbing your wrists, bounding them together with the fluffy robe tie once more- this time tying you to the headboard too. he has you right where he wants you.

"not a sound, okay? not until i tell you." he says before hastily pulling your panties off fully and throwing them on the floor.

he knew you wouldn't be able to stay quiet - it was all in his plan to humiliate you just a little more before you finally get your sweet release.

with how enthusiastically you agree he almost thinks you might be able to pull it off ~ ''m gonna be so quiet. just like a doll for you.. just please! please fuck me!"

but he takes that as a personal challenge to turn you into a screaming mess just so he can pusnish you one more time.

"okay.. you ready gorgeous? you okay?" he asks genuinely.

"'m okay hyuka. just- please!"

"still so desperate? pervy baby needs me inside huh?" he taunts, removing his sweatpants completely and lining himself up with your still sopping wet cunt. he takes the time to tease you, tapping his head on your clit and rubbing himself on your folds. he can tell you're already fighting back your whines- especially when he buries himself to the hilt all in one go.

he hooks a finger under your chin and rests his other hand on your hip, leaning close to your face. "not a peep."

he was lying. he wants you to slip up so badly, and so he sits back and grabs your hips so hard they'll definitely be bruised in the shape of his fingerprints tomorrow - and slams his hips into yours.

he laughs meanly at you biting your lip to prevent a moan and angles his hips just right to have you weeping once again. "so pretty.. how can someone so cute be such a disgusting pervert?" he rambles. his eyes are glued to your boobs bouncing with every thrust and your face so scrunched in concentration. he can't help but let a giggle escape him at how cute you are - and an evil thought pops into his head.

continuing his rhythm, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, he moves a hand to fondle one of your boobs - attaching his lips to the other one and attacking your nipple with his hot tongue.

with your eyes squeezed shut you couldn't see what he was doing, and the sudden stimulation to your chest catches you completely off guard and... "ah-!"

you feel kai smile evilly against your nipple, and he leans even closer to bite it gently - just enough to sting. you yelp, then he sits back and stills his movements completely.

kai pulls out, and leans off the bed to grab the dirty shirt you had your face buried in not long ago.

"no! no please! please keep going! 't- 'twas too much! 'm sorry kai i'll be quiet.. plea- hmph!"

he balls up the shirt in his hands and holds your chin with one hand and shoves the shirt in your mouth to gag you with the other.

"that should keep you quiet. pervy girl probably likes this since you like my dirty clothes so much right? you asked for it, choke on it."

he wraps a hand around your neck and returns the other to your hip after entering you again, slamming into you even faster than before. you moan freely, letting the fabric muffle the sounds slightly while your boyfriend rails you beyond comprehension.

your fucked out face has kai mesmerised, and he lets his hands roam to squeeze your boobs again.

the closer you get to your highs, the closer he wants to be to you, so he decides to lift your legs, pressing them into your chest to get even deeper. this has your eyes rolling back, fucked out expression and drool dribbling into the fabric of his worn-out t-shirt in your mouth.

"such a s-slut for me aren't you?" he mumbles out, words hushed and brain elsewhere as he watches your tits bounce again. "couldn't keep your hands off yourself for 5 minutes? too embarrassed of being such a perv to ask for my help? fucking pathetic."

you started crying again, feeling so humiliated and overstimulated and just so horny. you started making noises, speaking nonsense words muffled by the fabric in your mouth as you nodded frantically. pathetically. desperately.

"tell me. tell me you're my slut. my yucky girl~ only i can catch you with your hands on your pussy~ ah! only t-thinking about me!" kai yanks the shirt from your mouth and throws it across the room, prodding your legs harder and thrusting into you at a brutal pace. "say it!"

"'m your sl-slut, 'm only gross for you! all for you hyu- hyuka!"

"that's it baby~" he coos, sticking his thumb in your mouth and pressing on your tongue to keep your mouth open. "this what you wanted? creepy little perv? wanted me to punish you like this?"

when you whine in agreement against his thumb he spits in your mouth.

"disgusting." he taunts.

he pulls his thumb from your lips and smiles at you adorably.

"swallow and i'll let you cum."

and so you do, sticking your tongue out to show him your empty mouth as he grabs your face to check.

"that's right baby- fuck! 'm gonna cum pretty, you wanna cum with me? is that what you want? my little slut~"

you nod frantically and moan embarrassingly loudly when he starts rubbing your clit furiously along with his thrusts. "where do you want it princess?" he pants.

"in- inside- ah! please! fill me up kai- plea- fuck!"

he smirks at you, pace becoming sloppy as he teeters over the edge.

"thought so~ i'll fill you up good baby. bet you wanted this? wanted me to get you all messy... fucking pervert."

kai cums right as you pant out your next sentence, filthy words sending him into overdrive.

"your pervert- all for you! 'm all slutty for you.. obsessed with you- oh fuck kai! kai i'm- oh my god-"

right as you feel him fill you up with his release, his attacks on your clit speed up and send you over the edge, your walls tightening around his cock has him seeing stars and stilling inside you as you let the relief wash over you both. he rests his forehead on yours and presses a few lazy kisses to your lips that you half reciprocate.

"you okay princess?"

he waits a few seconds for you to come down, dropping your legs and pulling out with a whine from you both. "earth to y/n? baby? did i really fuck you dumb?" he jokes and you giggle - letting yourself come back to reality from the most intense orgasm you'd ever had.

"i.. i didn't know you had that in you," you mutter hoarsely. he unties your hands from the bed, and at the sound of your voice he grabs your bottle of water from your nightstand and helps you sit up to drink it. "well i didn't know you'd be sat in bed jerking off with my shirt." he teases, laughing as he sat beside you and rubbed your back.

"are you gonna break up with me?" you ask once you chug half the bottle.

"and why the hell would i do that?" he answers back with another question.

"because i'm disgusting and desperate...?"

"i didn't mean that. i mean i was a little shocked when i walked in.. and that definitely isn't how i saw our first time together going but.. fuck you're amazing." he comforts you, smoothing down your messy hair and planting a kiss on your temple. "plus... you seem to like it when i call you disgusting and desperate." he chuckles, hand landing on your shoulder and hugging you close to him.

"so you don't think i'm gross for sniffing your clothes? and weird for liking when you degrade me like that...?"

"no way. maybe a little perverted, and kinkier than i expected... but i'm into it. my little slut~" you look at him making a silly sexy face you and both burst out laughing.

"let me clean you up okay? you want a snack? or i can boot up mario kart? cuddles maybe?" he smiles his cute goofy grin, sweet boyfriend back in full swing - so you nod to all of the above.

you feel happy and satisfied at the fact he still likes you as you are, and that somehow you bagged yourself the cutest sweetest guy who could absolutely destroy you in bed. nice.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he hands you a towel and a package of cookies with a kiss to the forehead.

"and next time when you're horny.. just tell me. the real thing is better than whatever's in the laundry basket <3"

nsfw taglist: @subbyjvnnie @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @banggyu0308 @majestyjun @pumpkinkaiii @beom-pyu @txtistheloml @nightlytyuns @dido-of-the-endless + @agustdiv1ne

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Six: Seungmin - Part Two

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warning: Smut.. sneaky smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1k

Previous Stories

“Mom, dad.” You smile as you drop your luggage before you embrace your parents, that you hadn't seen in months.

“Y/N, oh baby, we missed you so much.” Your mom squeals as she holds you tighter. Your dad had moved on to his son, your brother, Bang Chan, and then your mom as well.

“I hope you don't mind, some of the members came with.” Chan smiles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The more the merrier.” Your mom grins as she welcomes Jeongin, Felix, Changbin and Seungmin into the house. “What about Minho, Han and Hyunjin?” She asks.

“They had work to do so they couldn't come. Next time they said.” Chan tells your mom.

“Okay we're going to have to switch up sleeping arrangements.” Your mom laughs. “Chan, Changbin and Jeongin will be in Chan's room with him, and Y/N, you're going to share a room with Seungmin.” She finishes, clapping her hands.

“Why him?” You groan, giving him a heavy side eye.

“Because I know he won't do anything to you.” Your mom says, grabbing Seungmin's chin, grinning at him. You roll your eyes, taking your bag up to your room before dinner. You were exhausted and ready to sleep but it was still too early. You set your bag down on your bed, stretching as Seungmin walks in, you don't say anything, instead walk out of the room, you can hear him chuckle as you leave, heading downstairs.

“Asshole.” you mumble.

After dinner is done, you all stay up and talk for a bit until Changbin heads to bed, then Jeongin. You excuse yourself to your room soon after, with your parents following suit. Chan and Felix head out to visit some old friends, and you assume 3d Seungmin was going with them. You take off your shirt and pants, discarding them in your hamper. You can hear your parents get into bed, their room being right next to yours. As you take off your bra, the door opens, your bra falls to the floor. Seungmin stands there, eyeing you up and down.

He doesn't say anything to you, instead walking towards you, pressing his lips to yours, his hand grabbing the back of your neck. You pull away with a gasp, staring at him. “What are you doing? My parents' room is right there.” You whisper.

“I'll guess you'll have to be quiet then, baby.” He winks. He kisses you again, this time sliding his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your body against him. His hands roam your body, before breaking the kiss, turning you around. You laid your head back, resting on his chest as his hand moved from your throat, down, over the curve of your breast, down your stomach, reaching into the waist of your panties. He had barely even touched you and you were already panting, the neediness you felt for him was like nothing you'd ever felt before.

Seungmin moves his hand into your panties, only taking two fingers between your lips, slowly circling your clit. Your body jolts at the sensation, it had been so long since the two of you had any time alone.

“Fuck.” You pant. “Please.” You whisper.

“What baby?” He whispers in your ear, his fingers moving at the same pace. “Use your words.”

“I need more.” You say, trying to move your hips with the rhythm of his fingers.

“So needy.” He chuckles quietly. He removes his hand from your panties, getting down to his knees. He pulls your panties down, pooling them around your feet before he pulls you to your bed. He pushes you down, your legs spread, ready and waiting for him.

“This has to be quick, and quiet.” He tells you, pulling his sweat pants down, letting his cock spring free. You lick your lips, seeing how red his tip was, the precum leaking out of him

“Yeah Yeah, just fucking me already.” You whine. Seungmin crawls onto the bed, slowly sliding his cock inside of you. You let out a loud, partial moan. He moves up, slapping his hand across your mouth as he harshly thrusts into you. Your eyes roll back as he quietly grunts, the feeling of you clenching your cunt around him, drives him absolutely crazy.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” He whimpers, pushing his cock inside you as far as he could, the sensation makes him want to cum so fucking fast. “Rub your clit.” He tells you. You move your hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit fast as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. His hand still clamped over your mouth as he fucks you, the feeling of him being inside of you, your clit being rubbed, his hand muffling your moans, and the chance the two of you could be caught, built your orgasm up so fucking fast. Fast enough that it even took you by surprise, shooting through your body as your back arches, his hand still muffling your cries from your orgasm.

Seungmin pins you down even harder, ramming into you at a speed you thought would break the bed for sure, or alert your parents.

He cums quickly after you, spilling deep inside you. He gasps for air as he comes down from his high, leaving his cock inside you as he rests his head on your chest. He gets up, putting his pants back on.

“Go shower and get some sleep, I'll be back in a bit, okay?” He smiles, placing a small kiss on your lips.

You sit up, confused. “What? You weren't coming up to go to bed?” You ask.

“Nah, I came up to grab a sweater.” He chuckles. “Chan and Felix are downstairs waiting for me.” He grins.

“You fucked me while my brother and your band mates were waiting for you!?” You gasp. “If they find out we're dating now, it's all on you.”

“Hey, I'll take it baby.” He winks, leaving the room.

“Asshole.”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Favorite Chapter 5

Summary:  Bucky Barnes, the big boss of the crime underworld, is notorious for his unhinged behavior and punishments.  There’s not much that can fully set him off, unless someone messes with his favorite…

Warnings:  violence, blood, gore, language, smut, depravity 

**Picture is A.I., found on Pinterest.  Don’t come for me.**

Previous chapter Next chapter

Hours later Bucky was drenched in blood as the cleaners came into the interrogation room and rounded up the pieces of Nicky before hauling him all out toward one of the cars for transportation.  He walked into the shower station just off the interrogation room, turning it on so multiple hoses started pouring water and a fountain of red dripped down his body.  He stripped out of his clothes and threw them in the hamper to get burned, washing off the gore as best as he could before walking out of the shower.  Steve was waiting for him, holding out a robe for him that Bucky put on and tied before facing Steve.

Steve’s face stayed neutral, and Bucky took a stuttering breath.  “How is she?” he asked.

“Still critical, but stable,” Steve answered.  Bucky nodded, looking away and blinking away his tears.  Steve clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.  “She’s a fighter, Buck.  She’ll make it. I know she will.”  Bucky sniffed and nodded again.  Steve stepped forward and hugged him for just a moment, then pulled away and kept his hands on his shoulders.  “We’re ready when you are,” he continued.  “I already sent a group out that surrounded the house and has been taking down his security quietly.  The wife and daughter are there, I just need to know how far you’re wanting to take this before we advance.”

Bucky thought about little Seraphina that he’d met just days before.  He wanted Falcone to hurt.  He’d taken his family, and now his last reason for living was hanging on by a thread.  His jaw ticked as he met Steve’s gaze.  “Make it quick.  One second they’re here and the next they’re not, got it?”

Steve nodded somberly.  “Got it.”

***

Falcone never stood a chance.  The attack came from all sides and was quick, the rhythmic popping from gunshots echoing through the mansion and then all stopping within a matter of minutes.  Steve held Falcone firmly as Bucky walked through the house, inspecting everything as his other men drenched everything they could reach in lighter fluid.  Falcone was trying to twist out of Steve’s grip, grunting and swearing up a storm.

“Fuckers!  Get out of my house!  Trina!  Seraphina!” he screamed, his head trying to whip back at Steve, who dodged it easily.

“Trina?  Seraphina?” Bucky called out, and a few of his men brought in their bodies.  Falcone stared in shock, then started wailing as the men set them down on the floor.  “Such a shame,” Bucky said, sounding bored as he glared at Falcone.  “Uncle Sal couldn’t save his favorite nephew, and then Daddy couldn’t save his precious little family.  She had such potential,” he said, glancing at Seraphina.  “If it’s any consolation, they didn’t even feel it.  Which is more than I can say you did for my family.  I’m nice like that.”

Falcone snarled at him.  “Tit for tat, is that it?”

“You made it personal years ago, Sal,” Bucky snarled back at him and slapped him hard, making Falcone yell.  “I’ve been planning your downfall ever since.  I was playing the long game.  I even considered taking her in, giving her the family she deserved,” he pointed at Seraphina.  “But then you came into my house, and you almost took my favorite person in the whole world from me.  You involved my wife.  MY WIFE!” he screamed in his face.  “And that’s a transgression that I simply cannot condone, Sally.”  He grabbed him by the throat and threw him towards his family’s bodies, then took out his gun and shot his kneecaps.  Falcone howled in pain, tears streaming down his face.  “Now you get to stay right here in the castle you built, and watch it all burn to the ground.  What a fine resting place,” he smiled bitterly at him.  “Tell the devil I say hi,” he sing-songed, then walked toward the front door.  “Light it up!” he shouted, and his men started to light everything on fire.

Bucky ignored Falcone’s screams as he left the house, Steve and Sam on his tail as his other men all poured out of the house and surrounding area.  They all watched the house quickly go up in flames, and even as the rest of them left after a while, Bucky stayed, wanting to make sure that the whole house burned to a crisp.  When the house was finally nothing more than charred embers, he walked back to where Falcone and his family were.  He shoved away fallen wood beams and debris until he found their remains, and picked out the family ring that Falcone had been wearing on his right middle finger.  He scrubbed off the soot and ash, admiring the gold band and the large emerald in the middle with the Falcone crest etched into the sides of the band.  

“You okay, Boss?”  Steve asked, following him into the house.

“Better,” Bucky said.  “How is she?”

“No longer critical,” Steve said.  Bucky hung his head in relief, letting out a huff of breath.  Steve pulled Bucky up and kept an arm around his shoulders.  “Let’s get you back to her,” he said.

[delirious-donna]

For You [Hanma Shuji]

an: Pure self-indulgence as I've been sick the past few days and I'll use any excuse to continue my soft Shuji agenda...

pairing: Hanma Shuji x female reader

warnings: fluff, self-ship coded, reader has longish hair with a similar texture to Shuji’s, fluff, bit of a sick fic I guess, domesticity, soft shuji, suggestive if you squint, did I mention the fluff?

He didn’t know what to do. That much was evident from the white noise tumbling inside his head and the empty stare that roamed your apartment. Everything was as it should be, and at the same time, nothing was right.

Shuji hadn’t heard a peep from you in almost two days, and that was unheard of before now. He appreciated that you were not overtly clingy. You didn’t need to know his exact whereabouts at any given moment of the day, but you checked in now and then, and for the first time in his life, he looked forward to those moments. So when you went radio silent except for one cursory message in reply to his attempt at humour that you were ghosting him, worry settled heavily.

The smell was apparent the second he let himself in with the spare key you had gifted him months ago. Until now, he hadn’t had reason to use it, but there was no way he would allow another day to pass without knowing what was going on. Sickness–sweet and sour–lingered in the nose, an unmistakable smell.

What he found huddled in a nest of twisted blankets tugged at a heart he had not long grown to realise existed. A mass of tangled hair obscured most of your sleeping face, though he doesn’t miss the scrunched expression etched across your features. Your skin that peeks from beneath your adorable kitty pyjamas was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body when he closed the distance in two quick strides.

You’re sick. 

The rasp of your breathing indicated something was sitting on your chest, likely a bad cold or some infection, and he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. Turning, he raised his glasses atop his head to pass a weary palm down his face.

Cuts, scrapes and bruises are things he can deal with. He is well accustomed to peroxide on rags to clean wounds and disinfect any dirt that might linger inside split knuckles. A raw steak slapped over a swollen eye might be considered a bit of a health hazard these days, but he still swore that nothing reduced the swelling faster. Hell, Shuji was even a dab hand with a needle and thread. He had lost count with how many of his exclusively short list of friends he had patched up to avoid the inevitable hospital questions over the years. He had even sewn himself up from time to time.

Hell, he needed to act. Standing here doing nothing was beginning to sizzle his blood.

You woke from being jostled, the haze of your fever dream preventing the usual fight or flight instinct from kicking in. Craning your neck, you blinked and scrubbed at your eyes. There was no way you were looking up at your boyfriend. No way that he had you cradled in his arms in the most delicate hold you had ever experienced.

“Shuji?” 

“Yeah, princess, it’s me. Need you to sit here f’me, alright?” He rasped, voice affected by some emotion you couldn’t quite place.

Cool porcelain met your backside, your body guided upright until you could manage your equilibrium. Hanma Shuji was here, in your apartment, in your bathroom. Rummaging through your medicine cabinet and looking for god knows what.

A bath. He could at least run you a warm bath and rid you of the smell of sweat and sickness from your pretty skin. Methodically, he worked to fill the tub and added a few splashes of some scented shit that smelled familiar from your cabinet. Shuji dutifully peeled the pyjamas and underwear from your body and threw them in the hamper with a mind to run a load for you if he remembered.

Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your twisted fever-induced dreams had shifted away from the nauseatingly vibrant images you had experienced only a few hours ago to this muted peaceful scene. It was a nice thought, but no, this was reality and not one you ever thought you’d experience. 

A hand from behind your head came into view, a hand you knew immediately, not just by the stark black kanji inked against golden skin but the length of his slender fingers and the slight yellowish stain from the cigarettes he smoked. He handed you a soapy washcloth, which you gratefully accepted, wiping it across your body and sluffing off the grim that had caked you over the course of the last few days.

It was heaven, pure and simple, and when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Shuji surprised you once more. He gently tilted your head back, your eyes met his, and you smiled in adoration at the concentration evident on his face seconds before he began wetting your hair with the jug you kept on the edge of the bath.

“You don’t have to… Shu, I can take care of my hair once I’m better.”

Shuji clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment, but he held back from scolding you further for not trusting him with this small task. He washed his own damn hair, so washing yours wasn’t going to be some impossible task. His fingers worked in the suds of your shampoo into a thick lather, digging deep against your scalp and massaging firmly enough to elicit moans of bliss. 

Normally such noises would make him hard, but right now it only raised a genuine smile. This was possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done for you. Never mind all those times he had rearranged your insides or made slow, passionate love to you. No, this was on a whole other level, and he liked it–more than he ever believed he would.

You must have dozed off whilst he shampooed and conditioned your hair because the next thing you were aware of was being lifted from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel that draped past your toes. Shuji returned you to your bedroom but paused in where to deposit you, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mess of sheets that most definitely needed to be washed and changed. Eventually, he planted your feet on the plush rug by the bottom of your bed, one which his knees were intimately familiar with and helped towel dry your body from head to foot.

“Put these on, baby. Imma strip your bed, do you have another set?” He asked with a kiss to your temple, handing you a clean set of yellow pyjamas with little ducks covering them from your dresser drawer. 

Nodding sleepily, you pointed to the wicker storage box in the far corner before stepping into the pj pants and clumsily covering yourself with the top that bagged just enough that you could truthfully forgo the pants if you wanted.

You watched in amusement as the man known far and wide as both a talented photographer and sometimes enforcer for certain well-connected friends changed your bedding. His tall frame made it easy for him to manipulate the fitted sheet into place and wrangle a clean duvet cover on your kingsize duvet. This shitty task would have taken you nearly half an hour by yourself, but he managed in only ten.

“Need to dry my hair,” you yawned, leaning your face on his bicep and gratefully folding into his body when his arm snaked around your waist. He looked lost again, and you took pity on him. This kind of care was not his forte, but he didn’t know that all of this meant more to you than you could verbalise in your current state.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Take your time, alright?” With a final kiss to your forehead, he rounded the door of your bedroom and was gone from sight.

Shuji tried to sit still whilst the sound of your hairdryer filled his ears, but he was never one to sit idly by. He thought back on the times he had been sick as a kid with no one to really care for him and the things he would have wished for. In truth, a hot bath, clean clothes and a full stomach were all he ever wanted.

He was no cook, but he got by. A can of chicken soup caught his attention as he scanned your cupboards and set about warming it up on the stovetop. Your bread was still fresh, and he found butter in the fridge. He could do this. He could be the caring boyfriend when he wanted and though he had never felt inclined before, you were different.

You didn’t blow up his phone looking for sympathy or attention–no–you had tried to tough it out much like he had growing up, and it further sparked the flicker of kindred spirit that he felt about you. He wanted to protect you. There was no sense of obligation, and that made the difference. You were the first person he had loved outside of himself, and you reciprocated unconditionally. 

You took the man he was, the boy he had been and loved every part of him, flaws and all. Shuji could do the same for you, and he vowed that the next time one of you fell sick, you’d be living together and there would be no need to guess that something was wrong.

So engrossed in sentimental thoughts that were still rather foreign to him, Shuji didn’t notice the hairdryer cut off nor the sound of your bare feet padding in search of him. It wasn’t until two small arms wound around his waist that he noticed or acknowledged your presence at all.

“What did I do to deserve you, Hanma Shuji?” You sobbed wetly into the shirt covering his back. Your emotions were overwhelming you, head still stuffy from whatever sickness had beat your ass the past few days, coupled with the domesticity of watching him cook for you. Tears streaked towards your cheeks, and you smushed your face deeper into him in an attempt to halt the flow.

He chuckled whilst continuing to stir the soup. “I know a lot of people that would say you must have been real bad in a past life to have ended up with me as a boyfriend.”

You sniffled and mustered every ounce of strength–barely anything–to smack him for that comment. “Shut up, you ass. Don’t spoil it.”

Shuji turned slowly. The amused expression softening in the face of your soppy, pathetic face that he couldn’t possibly adore any more, and he raised a hand to thumb away your tears. Enfolding you fully into his arms, he cooed softly against your freshly dried hair and smiled at the scent that was uniquely you had returned to your skin.

“I want you to know that I would do anything for you. Not only would I rip apart this entire fucking world if someone dared hurt you.” He enthused before his tone softened with a quiet exhale as if he were about to whisper some unspoken secret. “But I’ll also bathe you when you need the help, and I’ll feed you when you’re hungry. For you, there is nothing too much.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi hi I hope you are doing amazing 💕💕

All I have been thinking about is Eddie doing his "nightly routine" with reader

I hope you enjoy this little fluffy blurb 🩷

Words: 1k

Eddie tries not to show exactly how excited he is that you’re spending the night for the first time. You’re excited as well, but Eddie is doing his best to keep it cool. The thought of falling asleep and waking up next to you has kept a permanent smile on his face the whole day. But when the two of you start to get ready for bed, Eddie finds something else he enjoys about having you in his home. 

Blue toothbrush in hand, Eddie squeezes out the white minty paste from the tube. As you slip into the bathroom behind him, his eyes dart up to the mirror to watch you make your way to the other side of his body. One of your hands holds the bristles of your purple toothbrush under the water as the other waits palm up, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to hand over the Crest. 

The two of you brush your teeth side by side and it has Eddie grinning around his brush. There’s nothing romantic or particularly special about the moment, but it’s so domestic. Just the two of you, silent except for the scrubbing of your teeth. Eddie’s suddenly sure this is how he wants to brush for the rest of his life. 

He leans in towards the sink to spit out the mouthful of suds, and with your free hand you hold some of his curls back, so they don’t get caught in the way. After Eddie’s rinsed and spit, it’s your turn. The cheeky man takes advantage of you slightly bending at the waist to playfully slap your ass. A shriek squeaks out of you and the purple toothbrush falls from your hand and lands in the sink with a clatter. A low rumble of laughter reverberates behind you while you rinse your mouth out. Standing up, you spin to face him with a playful glare.

“That’s not fair,” you say.

“And why’s that?” Eddie asks.

“Because,” you answer, yanking the hand towel from the rack behind him, “I didn’t get to touch your ass.”

Eddie holds his hands up and turns so his back is towards you. “Touch away, gorgeous.”

“I need both hands to wash my face; gimme a second.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums and leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you pop the cap of your face wash. The way your facial expressions change as you rub the foamy cleanser into your skin has him grinning. Every time he thinks you can’t get any cuter, you prove him wrong. His adoring gaze never leaves you as you rinse your face and pat it dry with the towel. You hang the towel back up and turn to face him.

“Okay,” you say with a deep breath. “I’m ready for your ass.”

Eddie laughs and flicks the bathroom light off before slowly walking backwards into the hallway.

“Come and get me then,” he goads. There’s no hesitation as you lunge at him and chase him down the hall, into his bedroom. Both of you laugh as he stops short and you collide with his back, but steady yourself by wrapping your arms around his middle and letting him anchor you. 

“Baaabe,” Eddie mock whines, “I gotta get dressed for bed.”

“Oh please,” you scoff. “We both know all you wear to bed is your boxers. So, strip for me, handsome.”

“Can’t. Breathe,” Eddie gasps as you slightly tighten your arms around him.

“So dramatic.” You press a kiss to the back of his shoulder before letting go. 

Eddie whips his t-shirt off and tosses it in the general direction of his hamper. The black jeans are the next to go and you manage to give his ass a good squeeze before he plops himself down on his bed. 

“First one’s free. Second one will cost you.” Eddie lounges back on the bed and laces his fingers behind his head. 

“What’s the price to grab my boyfriend’s ass again?” 

“Now I want a strip show,” he says, smirk settled on his lips. 

Rolling your eyes at the fact that he hardly gave you a show at all, you acquiesce and rock your hips back and forth as you slip off your shirt. Eddie’s eyebrows raise as the smile grows on his face. Next, come your jeans and when you slip your bra off, he’s practically drooling. 

“Does that earn me the right to touch that sexy butt of yours now?” you ask.

“Baby, you know you can touch me anywhere at any time.” Eddie throws you a wink and you blow him a kiss before walking over and pulling one of his t-shirts out of a drawer. You shrug on the Megadeth tee on your way to the bed. Large, calloused hands grip your hips once you’re close enough, and he pulls your body down on top of his. 

“Hi,” you murmur as you look up at him. 

“Hi.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. The mango scent of your face wash and the mint of the toothpaste flood his senses as he holds you even closer. “I like having you here with me.”

“Me too.” 

Scooting off of Eddie’s body, you lay down next to him and cuddle up to his side. With an over-dramatic groan, he reaches over and clicks off the lamp. Relaxing back against you, Eddie tugs the blankets over you both. Your eyes drift closed, and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Tired?” he whispers.

“A little. Mostly just comfortable. Love when you hold me.”

Eddie’s thumb and forefinger tilt your chin up so he can press his lips against yours. 

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“You tired?” 

“Kinda,” he says.

“Too tired to have a little fun?” Even in the dim lighting Eddie can see the suggestive smirk on your lips.

He chuckles and slips his hands up beneath the sides of your shirt.

“Never too tired for that, baby.”

[wannab-urs]

Bared Teeth

Pairing: Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: Biting the hand that feeds you OR Dave doesn’t know how to accept domesticity and care.

Warnings: Softness and affection, stark descriptions of domesticity, food, brief reference to past injuries, arguments, me fucking with canon, nonsexual slapping, weird smut. WC: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @atinylittlepain, @pr0ximamidnight, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and @beskarandblasters for reading this, for hyping me up, and for generally being amazing human beings. This is the first thing I’ve written in like two months and I’m decently proud of it. Plus, I missed these two a lot. They’re my favorites (don’t tell AGOY!Dieter, he’ll cry). 

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

His back is pressed against your front, your arm wrapped around his torso, leg between his legs. He holds your hand against his chest, pressed over his heart. You press a kiss to the back of his neck, just under where his too long hair curls against it. You feel him wake up, his body shifting against yours. He presses a kiss to your knuckles before extricating himself from your tangled limbs. 

He goes to the bathroom, takes a piss, brushes his teeth. You watch him through the open door. He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. As he waits for the water to boil he rummages in the cabinet for a tea bag and the jar of honey. He makes your tea and sets it on the table. You get out of bed, take the tea off the table, and take a sip through a smile. He makes it just the way you like it. 

You slot two pieces of bread in the toaster, crack eggs into a pan and scramble them, dish everything up onto two plates. You eat in comfortable silence, sip your perfect tea, watch Dave shovel eggs into his mouth. 

He clears the table, hand washes the plates while you gather your clothes for a shower. You go to the bathroom, strip your clothes off and toss them in the hamper, turn on the water in your shower. He slips in behind you just as you get your hair wet. His ribs are no longer bruised, but some of his movements are still halting. You trace a finger over his scar and he backs away from the tender touch. 

You squirt shampoo into your hand and reach for him, burying your hands in his thick hair. You massage the shampoo into his scalp, work it through his hair just starting to curl at the ends. You like it long, like having something to grasp. You tug hard at the back of his head, just to keep him from getting skittish. 

He shies away from soft touches, too used to hard ones. He seems to lean into your hands anyway. You run your fingers through his hair as the soap washes out and down the drain, press your lips into the hollow of his throat, let him wash your body with a softness he doesn’t himself deserve. 

You have to go to the grocery store. Dave has to stay hidden in your apartment, away from anyone who might be looking for him. He isn’t comfortable sitting still since his body has mostly healed. He strips your bed and carries everything down to the laundry. Back in your apartment, he puts your clean clothes away. He gets furniture polish and an old rag and dusts your dresser, your nightstands, your kitchen table. He puts away the now dry dishes from this morning. He goes back downstairs and switches your bedding over to the dryer. He sweeps and mops your floor, scrubs the toilet, wipes down all the counters, scrubs the grout in your shower. He retrieves your bedding and makes the bed army style. 

He has never, even with Carol, done anything so domestic as clean an entire apartment for someone. He feels awkward sitting in your clean apartment, waiting for you to come home with groceries he will help you put away, help you turn into meals. He doesn’t know if he can do this anymore.

You carry the bags into the kitchen and set them down on the table. You put away all the cold stuff while Dave stands stiffly behind you in the archway. You hand him a bag and he asks you what’s in it. He’s doing your chores and you’re buying him things at the grocery store and it’s all a little bit too much. 

“What is this?”

“Well I know you prefer coffee to tea and all I had was that shitty instant coffee.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t buy things for me.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

His whole body is taut with tension, a coiled spring that will either snap or lash out under this much pressure. You snatch the bag from him and pull out the body wash and shampoo you bought him, carrying them to the bathroom and setting them next to yours. 

“What is that?”

“I thought you might want to stop smelling like flowers? I got you sandalwood. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. Why are you doing this? Why are you buying me shit? You don’t need to buy me shit. It’s not like I live here.”

“Then what is it we’re doing Dave? You sleep in my bed and you eat my food and you’re doing fucking chores. Your toothbrush is in my goddamn bathroom for fuck’s sake. What exactly are we doing here?”

“I don’t know, okay! I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m not staying. This isn’t that.”

He grabs his still unpacked duffel bag, pulls his shoes on, and leaves, slamming the door behind him. You throw it open and chase him into the hall. 

“David.”

He turns and pushes you back through the threshold of your apartment. He stalks off down the hallway and you watch him go. 

The reason he’s been holed up in your apartment is not because he wants to play house, not because he even wants you necessarily. The entire reason, the only reason, he’s stashed himself in your apartment is because no one knows about you. It’s too dangerous for him to go anywhere, the risk of being seen too great. He killed Mac, meaning Mac knew who and what he was. There would be others. 

Before he came back to you broken, nearly dead really, it had been an abstract concept that he could get seriously hurt. That he could die. Now, though, you’ve seen him nearly dead and you can’t bear the thought of him being gone. 

You stand in your doorway for a long time, willing him to come back to you. Finally, you close the door and slip into your bed. You hardly leave it for days, needing to have eyes on the door he’d eventually walk through. He has to come back, he will come back. 

He pounds on the door. You open the door a crack and he shoves it open. You stumble backwards with the force of it and he snatches your arm and kicks the door shut behind him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls.

“What’s wrong with me?” Your voice high pitched and breaking on the last syllable. You yank your arm back from him and shove him in the chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Dave?” You shove him again, and his back hits the wall. “You fucking left! You were gone for days.” You wrap your hands into his shirt, pulling him toward you and shoving him away over and over. “I didn’t know where the fuck you were. Do you not fucking get it? Do you not understand how it feels for me when you walk out that door? I never know if you’re coming back. If I’ll ever get to see you again. You can’t just fucking leave like that.” 

“Why the fuck not?” Dave shoves you away from him and you hit the ground. You look up at him, tears pooling in your waterline. Chest heaving, hackles raised, eye wide and locked with yours – he’s like a prey animal about to meet its death. He’s terrified. 

“Because I love you.” He recoils at that.

“No you don’t,” he whispers before stalking further into your apartment, away from you. You scramble to your feet and chase him into the kitchen. 

“Yes I fucking do, David. Maybe you aren’t capable of love. Maybe you have too much blood on your hands or you’re too fucked up inside and full of shame too feel anything else. Maybe you’re a disgusting, dirty, defiled person who doesn’t deserve to love or be loved.” You cage him against the counter, one hand on either side of him, body trembling with rage. “You were always going to lose everything because you never deserved to have it in the first place,” you spit at him. 

He slaps you then, hard, a stinging hot pain blossoming across your cheek. You slap him back, just as hard, watch his head snap to the side with it. You grab his cheeks in your hands. 

“But I’m a terrible person too, David. I must be. Because I love you so much, it’s like I’m caving in on myself. I feel this fucking rot in my chest, this dark thing that is slowly consuming me and it’s you. I love you and it’s fucking killing me because you won’t ever let me have you – not really. You won’t ever stay.” 

He hangs his head and it looks like shame, his shoulders slumped like your love is a weight he can barely carry. You snag the curls at the back of his head in your hand and drag his face up to look at you. 

“When you aren’t here, all I can think about is losing you. When you aren’t here, my whole body trembles and my chest aches. I can’t work or eat or sleep. Do you understand me? I am so afraid of losing you..” He squeezes his eye shut, face scrunching up in something like pain.

“No,” he whispers. 

“The only thing that could destroy me is never touching you again, do you understand me?” He shakes his head. You kiss him then, soft at first but quickly devolving into more teeth than tongue. He bites your lip and you jerk his head back so far he starts sinking to the floor with it. You follow him down, straddle him as he sinks against your kitchen cabinets. 

He pulls you as snugly against him as you can get, savoring the feeling of your body pressed against him. He slides his hands under your shirt and lifts it off of you before shoving you off of him. You land sprawled out on your kitchen floor. He dives forward and rips your shorts and underwear off of you in one go. You sit up and tug his pants down, his hard cock springing out and bobbing against his stomach. 

You want to tear him apart, but you need him inside you. You grab his shirt and pull him down on top of you, slamming your mouths together again. He thrusts his hips against your core, the head of his cock catching your clit. 

You growl and reach between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You hook a leg around his hips and pull him close to you, bury him inside yourself. He sets a brutal pace, your back sliding on the floor. You brace a hand on the cabinets and drive your hips up to meet his. He fucks you fast and hard and it hurts. He’s tearing you open and making room for himself inside you. You drag his shirt off, needing to feel his skin. He doesn’t even slow down. Your nails sink into his shoulders. You feel the powerful muscles shifting beneath his skin. 

He grabs your right leg and throws it over his shoulder, leaning forward enough that you feel the stretch as he pounds into you. It almost hurts, the way your muscles pull, and you dig your nails in deeper. You can feel his skin gathering under your fingernails. You pull your leg back and kick him in the chest. He sprawls on the floor much like you had earlier. You dive for him, crawling onto his lap and settling him deep inside you again. 

You lean forward until your face is over his. He plants his feet on the floor and fucks you just as hard and fast as before. You grab his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and spit onto his tongue. 

“Mine,” you snarl. You let go of his jaw and he swallows. 

Whatever reservations he had before are gone, at least for the moment. As you clench around him again and again, your eyes rolling back into your head and your body going limp on top of him, he realizes he is completely and utterly yours. 

He marks you as such, coming deep inside you, fucking you until his cock goes soft. In the aftermath, you lay with your head on his chest. He traces soft lines up and down your spine, his lips pressed against your hair. . 

“Will you stay?”

“For now.”