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uyinq · 2 days ago

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THE CONTAINMENT INITIATIVE ☆ B.R

chapter 4 — aggressive evolution

[bob reynolds x AFAB! reader, psychic!reader, empath?reader, slow burn, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut, messy co-dependent relationships]

❱❱ WORD COUNT ﹕3,800

❱❱ SUMMARY﹕ With the Void making itself known, it's time you get serious about your powers. Bucky and Yelena help you find an outlet, while Valentina closes in on you. Bob lets it be known how he feels about everything.

❱❱ WARNINGS ﹕ profanity, violence, trauma, eventual smut, psychological horror, mentions of: needles, injections, torture, and human testing

❱❱ NOTES ﹕ sentry is so UUURGGHH. i can fix him. i like fixing broken men. ill fix him!!!!! no beta read, i apologize for any errors i was half asleep while writing this

(divider from uzmacchiato)

★ chapters ﹒﹒ masterlist

★ tags - @coutureisart @jenneric2003 @tfamidoingwithmylife @disillusioniary @sadslasher13 @chimchoom @lewispullsman @articel1967 @jj-ma26 @hiraethmae @dark-silhouette

(ask to be tagged!) ࿐

“I let it in.”

The silence lasts too long.

Bucky doesn't move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches you–watches the tremble in your fingers, the shallow drag of your breath, the way your shoulders curl in like you’re trying to make yourself small.

“I didn’t mean to,” you say eventually, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t call to it. It just… came.”

He nods. Once. But his jaw is tight.

“Did it hurt you?”

You shake your head once.

“No… no. I– I think it likes me.”

That finally gives him pause. After a few seconds, his eyes narrow. Not in disbelief or concern, but because he understands. He knows what it means when something awful decides you’re useful.

He takes a careful step foreward, gently taking your arm in his hand.

“We’re not waiting until Val finds out,” he says. “Tomorrow, we start. My way.”

“You’re doing it again.” Bucky’s voice is grating. You’ve heard it far too many times in the past hour. He dragged you out of the tower before the sun even came up, didn’t even tell you where you were going. Some construction site in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere.

You thought it was another training session with him. The kind where you sit on the ground and hold hands for half an hour. But no, Bucky has been whooping your ass and knocking your feet out from underneath you, over and over and over.

“Doing what, exactly?”

He circles you like you’re prey–not in a cruel way, but the way someone does when they refuse to let you keep lying to yourself.

“You’re not controlling it. You’re containing it. Big difference.”

You cross your arms. “So what, I’m supposed to let it explode out of me?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” he says, voice flat. “You’re not gonna learn how to use it until you stop being scared of it.”

He comes at you fast– not to hurt, just to pressure. You block. You swing. You fail. He knocks your legs out from under you like Yelena does.

You land hard, breath knocked from your lungs.

And that’s what does it.

The frustration. The weight of everything you’re feeling. The exhaustion, the guilt, the Void’s presence still coiled in your chest.

Your hands twitch.

You reach for the closest thing you can find– a long metal pole, sitting pretty in the dirt. You wrap your fingers around it, sit up quickly, and you swing. Hard.

Something buzzes under your skin, the pole cracking loudly against Bucky’s kneecap.

It all happens so fast you nearly miss it.

A jolt in your spine like lightning, a faint glow in your veins, then sparks shooting up the pole.

Bucky stumbles back, not from the force of the hit–but from the shock. His eyes are wide, one hand gripping his knee, the other lifted like he’s half-expecting you to strike again.

“What the hell was that?”

He breaks the silence first, gesturing at you as you drop the metal pole and move to your feet.

“I– How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re the one that did it!”

Your hands are still trembling.

The glow is gone now, but your fingers feel like live wires–like something ancient and aching just woke up inside you and isn’t ready to sleep again.

“I didn’t mean to do it!” you bark back, a little too sharp, voice cracking on the edges. “It just… it happened.”

Bucky stares at the dropped pole for a beat, then at you. The breeze kicks up some dust between you, but neither of you move to break the tension.

“Okay, okay. Just… walk me through it. What happened?”

You rub at your forearm, heart still hammering against your ribs.

“I was mad,” you mutter. “At you. At everything. And then I grabbed the pole, and it felt… different. Like I was holding a lightning rod.”

“You channeled it,” Bucky murmurs, thinking out loud. “The energy–your power. Through something else instead of your body.”

Oh.

Oh…

Bucky finally relaxes his stance, shoulders still tense but no longer on edge. He steps closer, eyes scanning your face.

“You weren’t just holding that thing,” he says. “You were channeling through it. Like a conductor. And the second you got pissed off enough to stop thinking? It snapped into place.”

You look down at the pole in the dirt like it’s a cursed artifact. “So what? I’m supposed to carry a staff around like some kind of… fucked-up Jedi?”

“If it works, yeah. I don’t care if you swing around a glow stick,” he shrugs. “If it gives your power shape, it’s worth it.”

You let out a breathy laugh. Shaky. Almost manic.

This changes everything.

Because maybe–just maybe–you’re not just some broken empath caught in the crossfire of everyone else’s chaos. Maybe you’ve got a weapon of your own.

Maybe you are one.

Bucky watches you for a long moment. Then:

“We train with it tomorrow,” he says. “Same time. Don’t be late.”

Then he turns on his heel and limps off toward the rusted truck parked a few yards away–still rubbing his knee and muttering under his breath about a “psycho chick with a lightning stick.”

You smile.

And you pick the pole back up.

The gym is quiet–too quiet for how often Yelena curses during sparring.

You’re already on your back again, panting, one wrist pinned beneath Yelena’s knee.

“Again,” she says, voice low, irritated. “You’re pulling your punches.”

“No,” you wheeze. “You just have a vendetta.”

Yelena’s lip curls. She stands, offers her hand. “Get up and hit me like you mean it.”

You take her hand and let her pull you up, but your muscles are screaming. You’ve been at it for nearly an hour, sweat dripping down your temple, the weight of the metal staff in your hand getting heavier by the second.

You lunge.

She sidesteps.

You spin with the pole–clumsy, wide–but Yelena still blocks you with ease, catching the pole with her forearm and landing a sharp jab to your ribs.

Your frustration boils over.

Not just with her. With everything.

With the Void whispering in the dark. With Valentina’s eyes always on you. With this gnawing ache inside you that wants to break free.

You shove her back.

Yelena blinks–just for a second–but that’s all it takes.

Your hands spark again. The pole lights up like a fuse. The air around you cracks.

A pulse of energy blasts off the metal, like a shockwave made of light and raw feeling,and Yelena goes flying back a full ten feet.

She rolls, lands hard on her elbow, grunting.

Silence.

You stand frozen, the pole still crackling in your grip.

The observation window at the far end of the gym lights up.

One-way glass.

You know who’s behind it.

Yelena groans and pushes herself up, eyes locking on you with something close to awe. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one day,” she mutters, breathless.

You don’t answer. You’re looking at the glass.

You can feel her.

Valentina.

Then you remember where you are and wander over to Yelena, offering a hand to help her up.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, eyes scanning her carefully as she pulls herself onto her feet. She laughs it off and rolls her shoulders back.

“Don’t be. That was good. Hurt like hell.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better.

Yelena notices. Of course she does.

She narrows her eyes at you, brushing dust off her elbow with a grunt. “Don’t do that.”

You blink. “Do what?”

“That face. Like you kicked a puppy. You didn’t hurt me–you surprised me. That’s different.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the gym doors hiss open before you get the chance.

Both your heads turn.

Valentina walks in, heels echoing against the floor like gunshots.

Her expression is unreadable–sharp eyes fixed on you, hands folded neatly behind her back. Too calm. Too calculated.

“Well,” she says, voice light but poisonous, “wasn’t that fun?”

You step back instinctively. Yelena moves in closer to your side.

Val stops a few paces from you both, gaze flicking to the scorched edge of the pole you dropped. “I’d say you’re improving,” she continues. “Though I doubt you even realize what you just did.”

You stiffen.

“I didn’t mean to–”

“That much is obvious,” Val says, smile thinning. “But we’re well past the point of hiding behind excuses, aren’t we?”

She glances at Yelena. “You can go.”

Yelena doesn’t move. She squares her shoulders, jaw flexing.

“I said go.”

There’s a beat. Then another.

Finally, Yelena steps away, brushing her knuckles gently against yours as she passes. You feel the weight of her glance over your shoulder–protective, warning.

Then she’s gone.

Valentina waits until the doors slide shut again before circling you. Slowly. Like a hawk.

“You’ve been holding back,” she says.

You flinch. “I’m trying to learn how to control it–”

“No,” she interrupts, voice cool. “You’re trying not to lose control. That’s not the same thing.”

She stops in front of you. “What I just saw? That was the real thing. That was instinct. Power without chains. You should lean into it.”

You shake your head. “It’s not safe.”

Her voice lowers. “It is if we teach you how to own it. Not fear it.”

Your stomach twists. The Void stirs–interested. Hungry.

Valentina smiles like she knows.

“You’re more than an empath. You’re a weapon. It’s time you start acting like one.”

The air feels stale the moment you walk in. Everyone's already seated in the boardroom. Yelena, with her arms crossed, Walker slouched in his chair, Ava flipping a pen between her fingers. Bob sits the way he always does: hunched over, polite, like someone still pretending he’s not a god under the skin.

Valentina enters last.

She doesn’t sit. Doesn’t need to. Her heels click once as she stops in front of the projection wall, and the lights dim automatically.

She clears her throat.

“We’re changing protocol. Effective immediately, she’s a part of the team. She’ll be field-ready in three weeks.”

You blink.

“What?” Bucky’s voice cuts first, sharp as a knife.

Valentina doesn’t flinch. “We’ve wasted enough time with training wheels. You’ve all seen what she can do now. This team needs something stronger. Sentry can’t always be our first line of defense.”

Yelena slams a palm flat against the table. “No. Absolutely not. We’re not letting you do this again.”

Val raises a brow, the barest hint of annoyance slipping through her practiced calm. “And what exactly do you think I’m doing, Yelena?”

“You’re weaponizing her. Just like you did with him.”

Everyone knows who she means.

You can feel it then–Bob stiffens beside you. Doesn't look up, just clasps his hands tighter in front of him. His shoulders curve in just slightly, like he’s bracing for impact.

Ava looks between you and Valentina like she’s watching a slow-motion car crash. Even Walker straightens in his seat.

Bucky pushes back his chair with a screech of metal. “We agreed,” he growls. “Training, not conditioning. Support, not programming.”

“She’s already stronger than most of you,” Val says. “I’m simply allowing her to prove it.”

“To whom?” Bob’s voice cuts through the room like a wire pulled too tight.

He still isn’t looking at her. He’s looking at you.

“To herself?” he continues, his voice quiet, almost flat. “To you? To the people she’ll tear through if something goes wrong?”

Valentina only tilts her head. “You turned out fine.”

“No, I didn’t,” he hisses.

The word lands harder than anything else that’s been said. Everyone falls silent again.

Bob finally looks up at her.

“I turned out useful.”

The room stills.

“I turned out good at following orders, at destroying what you asked me to destroy. I was useful until I stopped following orders and turned New York into a shadow.”

There’s no venom in his voice. Just the truth.

Then he looks at you again–really looks at you. Like he's begging you to read between the lines. Like he’s asking you to see what he became, and run the other way.

You want to puke. You want to cry. This whole briefing is about you, but you feel completely and utterly powerless. Like nothing you have to say matters.

But you say it anyway.

“I just want to help.” Valentina doesn’t flinch. She never does.

“Then do as you’re told,” she says, smooth and sharp like ice over steel.

It’s meant to be a final word. A dismissal.

But something’s shifted in the room.

You can feel it in Yelena’s stare, in the way Bucky’s jaw ticks like he’s clenching every word he wants to scream. In the quiet ache that lives in Bob’s eyes now, flickering gold at the edges like something just beneath the surface is threatening to break.

The silence stretches until Valentina turns, heels clicking, and the doors close with a hiss behind her.

Nobody speaks after she leaves.

Eventually, Walker mutters, “Jesus,” under his breath, and Ava throws her pen across the table. Yelena storms out.

You stay seated.

Bob’s still next to you. Still hunched, knuckles pale where they grip the edge of the table.

“Bob–” you start.

But he’s already pushing his chair back, already standing.

“Bob?”

You’re moving before you can stop yourself, nearly tripping over the wheels on your chair as you follow him into the hallway.

You’ve never seen him move so quickly, and it’s honestly irritating.

“Damnit, Bob, stop!”

He does–but only after another five strides down the hall. He stops so suddenly that you almost collide with his back.

He doesn’t look at you.

You circle around him, frustrated and breathless. “Hey. Talk to me.”

His jaw is tight. Eyes distant. There’s a flicker of gold at the edge of his irises, faint and fading.

“I told them this would happen,” he says finally. Quiet. Like the words weigh too much. “I told them the second she figured out what you could do, she’d find a way to use it.”

You blink, your heart pounding. “It’s not your fault, Bob.”

“Isn’t it?”

His voice comes out harsh, gold flaring in his irises as he steps forward, sudden and sharp.

You flinch– not because you're afraid of him, but because it’s the first time Bob’s ever raised his voice at you.

He sees it. Sees the way you tense, the way your fingers twitch like they might call your powers without you meaning to.

“You’re only here because of me. Because I needed something, someone to ground me. Now what?”

You know he’s starting to fade even before he straightens up, backing you up against the wall, nostrils flared and jaw clenched.

His voice stays low and controlled, but fraying around the edges. “Now she thinks she can use you the way she used me. Like we’re weapons waiting to be loaded.”

The gold in his eyes burns brighter, and the hallway seems narrower now.

Your back hits the wall. Not hard. Just enough for the tension to crack through your body like a taut wire.

“You think I don’t see it?” he hisses. “The way they look at you in briefings. The way she smiles when you do something new. That smile means you’re already halfway gone.”

“Bob.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. But it lands.

“No,” He replies, face inches away from yours as he holds your gaze. “You don’t get to suppress me right now.”

He takes a shaky breath, like he’s teetering on the edge.

“It’s not just her,” He whispers, a bit steadier now. “It’s Bucky and Yelena, too.”

You stare at him, stunned.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, but the words feel hollow. Because somewhere deep down, you already know.

“They’re watching you,” Bob says. “Every move you make. Every spark of power. Not because they’re worried you’ll get hurt, but because they’re afraid of what you’ll become.”

You want to argue. Want to say they care. That Bucky’s helping and Yelena’s training you to survive, not to cage you. But your throat closes around the words.

Because part of you has seen it, too. In the way Bucky's grip tightens when you lose focus. In the way Yelena’s teasing has turned sharp. In the way they look at you like you’re not fully you anymore.

You glance away. Bob doesn’t let you.

He grabs your chin, redirecting your gaze back to his.

“They're afraid because of what I became,” he says, voice shaking. “They think the same thing’s happening to you. But you’re not going to let them hold you back. Don’t let them hold you back.”

There’s something in his eyes– not cruel, not dark– but bright. Burning.

The golden shimmer behind his irises sharpens, flickers hotter. Like Sentry is rising, not to take over, but to defend.

Because he feels cornered. Because you feel cornered.

Because when Bob is too overwhelmed, Sentry steps in.

You realize it then– it’s still Bob. But it’s the part of him that’s all power and instinct, the part Valentina weaponized before he ever had the chance to choose.

You could stop him, you know that now. You could reach into the space between you and pull. You could say his name like a prayer or a plea. You could break the moment like glass.

But you don’t.

Because some part of you– the part they all keep trying to box in, muzzle, monitor– understands this version of him.

Not the broken soldier. Not the cautionary tale.

The storm.

The shimmer in his eyes deepens as he reads your silence not as fear, but permission. His hand, still at your chin, shifts and slides along your jaw, thumb ghosting your cheek.

He’s not smiling. Not leering.

He just looks.

Like he’s cataloging every crack in your armor and memorizing how to slip through.

“You’re not stopping me,” Sentry murmurs.

His voice is lower now. Steady. Like he’s not just talking to you, but to the echo of Bob inside him…the man who flinches and runs and wants too much.

“I don’t want to.”

The words hang there, heavier than they should be. They sound smaller when you say them. Like a confession. Like you’re scared of how much you mean it.

A flicker of gold catches in the light. Not a threat. Just a reaction. His pupils dilate, soaking you in.

He steps closer.

Your shoulders are still pressed to the wall, heart loud in your chest. But you don’t move, you don’t flinch.

“Stop letting everyone control you.” He whispers. It’s not sinister like the Void, it’s genuine guidance. Like he’s trying to mentor you.

“They’re trying to train you to be safe,” he whispers. “I want you to be free.”

A pause.

And then:

“I’ll never tell you to hold back.”

You should push him away.

You should pull Bob back to the surface, reach for the steadier version of him you know best– the one who whispers comfort into your hair, who makes you coffee when your hands won’t stop shaking. The one who tries so hard to be good.

But this?

This doesn’t feel bad.

Sentry steps in closer, and this time, your fingers twitch toward his. The contact is light, barely there, but it sparks something all the same. The same pulse you felt when your powers flared through the metal pole. That rush of something ancient and electric.

You let your eyes close. Just for a second.

It’s enough.

He breathes you in again, but it’s different this time. Slower. Like he’s grounding himself, not consuming you. Like he wants to feel tethered too.

“I feel you,” he whispers, so soft it almost breaks you. “Even when I’m buried. I feel you.”

Your lips part. But no sound comes out. Your voice isn’t working. Your brain’s too full of static and gold and want and fear.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he says.

“You don’t,” you breathe.

Then he leans forward. Not to kiss you, not quite.

His forehead presses to yours, and for the first time, he doesn’t feel like a weapon. Or a God, or a hero.

He just feels real.

Warmth builds between you, slow and steady this time, not like a flare but a current. The lights in the hallway hum louder. Your palms glow faintly where they touch. It’s not volatile. It’s steady.

Safe, even if it shouldn’t be.

You don’t know how long you stand there, forehead to forehead, tethered by something neither of you fully understand. But it’s quiet now. Charged, yes–but quiet. You can hear his breathing. Feel the tremble still lingering in his fingertips where they rest against your ribs.

Sentry… or Bob… or whatever blend of them this is now–he’s watching you like he’s memorizing you. Every flicker in your expression. Every uneven breath.

“You ground me,” he says, barely a whisper.

It’s not a declaration. It’s a confession. The kind that aches with truth.

You nod slowly, your hand lifting to cup his cheek.

Something flickers in his throat, like he wants to say your name but it might undo him. He leans in–not to press closer, but like he wants to share the same breath. As if you’re the last thread keeping him tethered to this version of himself. Not the monster. Not the myth. Just the man.

“You feel like…” he trails off, then laughs under his breath. It’s soft. Self-deprecating. “I don’t know what you feel like.”

“Then stop talking,” you whisper. “Just feel.”

You guide his hand up slightly, over your collarbone. He doesn't grip, doesn’t take, doesn’t claim. He asks without a word, and when your breath hitches just enough to answer him, he lets his hand settle there–gentle, reverent.

When he speaks again, it’s not Bob. It’s not Sentry. It’s the space between.

“You make me feel human.”

It punches the air right out of your lungs. Not because it’s dramatic, but because it’s honest. And there’s nothing more dangerous than a man with the power of a god who wants, more than anything, to be held.

Your hand curls into the front of his shirt. The fabric is still warm from the briefing room, from the rage he was trying to bury. And now he’s giving you all of it.

Slowly, you tug him forward. He comes willingly. No tension in his shoulders now. Just ache.

And when your lips meet, it’s not hot or heavy–it’s steady. Like something earned.

Like permission.

His hands tremble just slightly against your skin, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to want you. But you stay close enough to remind him he doesn’t have to be sure… he just has to feel.

And he does.

Every second of it.

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #thunderbolts fanfic #afab reader #the sentry x reader #the void x reader

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chrrybbye · 2 days ago

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Isn’t two better than one?

by chrrybbye

SERIES PAGE

Summary: Being shoved aside in the Wayne household is nothing new. But how well does that work when there’s two of you?

DIANA WAYNE

Practical. Cold. A genius with machines. A jaded general who leads the offense.

[NAME] WAYNE

Put together. Elegant. As poisonous as a flower. The strategist who attacks from the shadows.

TOGETHER

Mysterious. Balanced. You don’t need anyone else. You’re cut from the same cloth, born from the same rib. You’re twins.

future parts to be posted here⬇️

Part 1: 00 scheduled for June 22nd!

#yandere batfam #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #bruce wayne #yandere batfam x reader #twin readers #twin! reader #afab reader #damain wayne #damain al ghul

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 days ago

Note

pet and toy pet and toy pet and toy pet and toy

🤤🤤🤤

*chanting* pet and toy, pet and toy, pet and toy!

Pet and Toy [2]

Club!Blue Jones x Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • series masterlist •

Summary: Cecil shows you around the play rooms.

A/N: I'm sorry I can't stop turning oneshots into multiple parts. I have a problem. This part is mainly reader and Cecil.

Warnings: kissing, hand job, pegging, Cecil is just horny alllll the time, Cecil just talking about what he and Blue do, gonna say dubious consent because reader works in Blue's club, collars, some dub/sub dynamics, Cecil is referred to as 'pet', reader is referred to as 'toy', not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 3123

Cecil squeezes your hand, excitement practically radiating off of him. He’s a little giddy as he shows you around the ‘Play Room’. Rooms would be more accurate.

They were upstairs, the club and Blue’s office below. Other than an entrance from a secret side room in Blue’s office, there didn’t seem to be any other way to reach them.

The decoration was opulent, outlandish. But Cecil was seemingly so used to it that he didn’t bat an eye.

“It’s so nice to have someone else here,” he beams at you, “usually it’s just me waiting for Blue, and then he has to go off again and be busy.” He pulls a face, and you can help but smile. “I mean, what’s he got to do, really?” He shrugs. “He’s got other employees, he doesn’t need to be so completely obsessed with it, with working.” Cecil finally sighs and shakes his head, like he was trying to clear the thoughts from his head. “But, now you’re here.” He takes your other hand in his and links your fingers.

“What do you usually… do?” You ask, your voice uncertain. “When Blue’s not here, I mean?”

Cecil nods, “Eat, smoke… jerk off.” He grins sheepishly. “What about you, Blue said you’d only started here a few weeks ago?”

You nod.

“So… what was it like?”

You pause, not quite knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “It was…”

“Did you have any clients?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I…” “When I first came here, I wanted to, you know, be one of the ‘staff’.”

You tilt your head to the side in a silent question.

He giggles. “I was broke, worse than broke. Nowhere to go, and here you get somewhere to sleep and food and I don’t mind fucking or being fucked.” He shrugs again, like what he is saying is no big deal. “But Blue, I guess… he took a shine to me.” Cecil beams at you again, the expression almost blinding.

“So, did you have any clients before?” He gives you an inquisitive expression, it’s honest. Open. And very unlike the attention you’re used to.

You shake your head. “I hadn’t… yet.”

Cecil nods. “Blue probably had his eye on you, too.” He smiles again and gives you an animated hug as he giggles. “I’m so happy. It’s so nice to not be alone, you know?”

You nod, mirroring his action.

“I kind of think about what would have happened if Blue hadn’t,” he gestures to the collar around his neck, “you know?”

“Does it upset you?” You ask sympathetically.

Cecil shakes his head, laughing. “No, no, part of me kind of likes the idea.” He covers his face with his hand, “I know that sounds fucking stupid.”

You gently take his hand, moving it back so you can look at him. “It’s not stupid.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “You like what you like.”

He grins. “See? I knew you’d understand Toy.” He kisses your cheek quickly and then breathes in deeply. “Can I kiss you?”

You swallow and nod.

His kiss is soft, slow. But you can feel the energy behind it, the current that is running just underneath his skin. He presses close, lightly rubbing his half hard cock against you and moaning quietly. The sound is almost a purr.

He gulps, loud and echoing, as he pulls back a fraction, just enough to talk to you while his hands hold your hips tightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, a little breathless. “Can we…?”

You nod, that was what you were here for, wasn’t it?

He grins and kisses you quickly, taking hold of your wrist, he pulls you to the sofa. Cecil sits eagerly while you’re still standing and grabs a half full bottle of lube from underneath the coffee table.

“So if you jack me off,” he says so matter of factly while he shakes the bottle, “and then you can fuck me.” He smiles widely, then pauses. “Have you pegged someone before?”

You shake your head.

There’s a flicker of something in his expression, and you can’t be sure if it’s disappointment or not. Anxiety twists and spikes in your stomach.

“But, I get the principle.” You say quickly.

And Cecil misunderstands your apprehension as excitement. “Yay, okay, great. There’s a strap over here, erm…” he chews on his bottom lip as he gets onto his knees and bends over the side of the sofa, rummaging in a bag. You get a great view of his ass as he looks.

“Here!” He holds it aloft in a giddy elation. “So fuck me with this after?” He blinks his large doe eyes at you, and once again, you nod.

He gives you another brilliant smile and places the strap on the coffee table before settling onto the sofa and getting comfy.

“Oh,” he tugs his jogging bottoms down to the middle of his thighs, lifting his hips up just enough to wiggle free. His cock bobs against his stomach, as hard and eager as you remember. He pauses as he looks at his t-shirt, the hem between his fingers. “Should I take this off too?”

It’s oddly nice, you realise. The level of trust he’s putting in you immediately. Some of your nerves calm down a little, just taking the edge off.

You sit next to him carefully, leaving a slither of space between your bodies that Cecil moves into immediately, pressing up as close to you as he can without sitting in your lap. He rests the side of his head on your shoulder, still holding his top.

You take hold of the bottle of lube in one hand and the edge of his t-shirt with the other. “Here,” You say softly, “Why don’t you just…” You place his hand on his chest and encourage him to hold his t-shirt there so it’s pulled up and showing his soft tummy.

He giggles, wiggling his legs a little and watching you with bright, eager eyes. “Okay.”

Lightly, you touch his stomach, trailing your fingers down over his warm skin.

He shivers and chuckles lightly, “Tickles.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I kind of like it. I like how you touch me.” He presses his face to your neck, shyly. “It’s different.”

“Different?”

“Blue’s more… I don’t know. I like how he touches me, for sure, but I like how you touch me too.”

You smile gently, part of you can see why Blue chose him.

He whimpers lightly when you open the bottle and pour a copious amount onto your palm, warming and spreading it before you just trace the outline of his cock with the tip of your finger.

He moans, shivering and gulping. “Oh, fuck. Please, I’m so horny.” He blinks rapidly at you, giving you the most beseeching look.

You gently wrap your fingers around him and pump slowly.

He gasps, whining beautifully. “Fuck, that’s so nice.” He bucks his hips up, his body following the pleasure automatically. “So nice,” he swallows, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Fuck, so much better than my own hand, Toy.”

You stroke him a little faster, revelling in his cries and moans, how his muscles shiver and tense, how sensitive he is. He holds onto his top tightly, clutching it to his heart.

“How often would you touch yourself,” you think twice about calling Cecil by his nickname, but the word ends up falling from your lips anyway, “Pet?”

He sobs out a groan, convulsiving. “Oh fuck, love it when you call me that.” He shivers, pressing his head back into the sofa and forcing his eyes open so he can look at you. “I, I’d, I do it a lot.” He gulps again, almost hiccuping. “I get so worked up so easily,” he licks his bottom lip, making it shiny with his saliva. “I need to do it a lot.”

You stroke him a little firmer and lightly rub the pad of your thumb along his slit. He gifts you with a gasp and shudder.

“How often is a lot?” You ask, trying to keep your voice even and calm.

“Lots, loads, I, uh, fuck,” he squirms, bucking up eagerly into your fist. The squelch of lube echoes around the room. As he moves his t-shirt rises a little higher, the material twisted in his hand, revealing more of his chest and one of his nipples.

You don’t really think twice, too caught up in the sound he's making and his love sick expression. With your free hand, you reach out and squeeze his chest, lightly pinching his nipple and Cecil all but screams.

He comes suddenly and violently, his eyes rolling back as he spurts all over himself and your fist. Copious amounts hit his chest and tummy, some even splashing over his t-shirt and hitting the underside of his neck.

He moans loudly the whole way through, his hands squeezing any part of you he can reach, swearing and gasping your name. Your real name.

You start to relax your grip on him the second he goes limp and weak, breathing hard.

He whimpers slightly, quickly moving so that he can press his lips to yours. Hungrily, he licks into your mouth, his kisses becoming more and more demanding by the second.

He groans as you lightly bite his lip, his eyes rolling back.

“Fuck,” he swallows, his throat bobbing, “here,” he takes you hand and hastily wipes the cum from your skin with a clean part of his t-shirt. “Sorry I jizzed all over you.”

You bite back a snort, his sincerity was strangely endearing. “It’s okay.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t answer any more than a soft hum.

His cock is still semi hard between his legs, his eyes still as dark.

“Can you fuck me please?” He asks sweetly, an edge of desperation to his tone. But you get the clear feeling that he wouldn’t press, wouldn’t demand anything if you said no.

Your nerves aren’t as fraught as before, they don’t slither and slice at your insides. Instead, there’s a low constant beat of arousal that is starting to very heavily cloud your mind.

You nod and he groans.

“Fuck, thank you, thank you, I,” he scrambles up, nearly falling over and into the coffee table in the process. You grab his hips to stabilise him and he gives you the sweetest look as he pulls off his trousers completely, and then his shirt.

“Thank you,” he repeats, rubbing his stomach and hands clean with his t-shirt. “Blue says I have a crazy refractory period and that I’m po-pet-u-at-lly horny.”

“Perpetually,” you say with a kind smile and he beams at you.

“That’s it, that’s the word! You’re so smart.” His grin widens. He doesn’t give you a chance to refute his statement as he pulls you to your feet.

Quickly, he moves so that he’s bent over the sofa, his hands on the cushions and the front of his thighs resting against the armrest. He spreads his legs a little wider. “You can keep your clothes on, or take them off, I don’t mind.” He smiles again. “Whatever you want. Also I don’t need any prep, that’s,” he nods his head to the strap on the table, “a totally a-okay size. I kind of like it when there’s a bit of a stretch, you know?” He keeps running his mouth, having to fill the silence as you pick up the strap. But it’s nice, comforting even.

“Blue’s not like that.” Cecil continues. “He hates taking anything straight away, you have to work him open for hours. Not that I mind.” He looks over his shoulder at you as he speaks, his eyes lingering on your form as you take off your top.

You decide to leave your bra and underwear on, folding your clothes roughly and putting them on the armchair at the side, before you put on the strap. It takes you a moment to work out the harness, but Cecil doesn’t seem to notice.

“Sometimes he makes me suck his dick for hours, literally hours. And then I have to eat his ass for just as long.” Cecil swallows, his cock throbbing at the thought. “And then I finally get to put some fingers in him, but I got to suck him off, or lick his balls at the same time, or he makes me start all over again.”

Cecil jumps slightly as your hand touches his hip, he shivers, widening his legs yet again and groaning when he hears you open the bottle of lube and pour a more than generous amount onto the strap. The dildo is a bright, vibrant yellow, and honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised you if it had a classic smiley face at the tip.

“You can keep talking.” You say soothingly as you tightly rub his hip and he preens, arching his back a little.

“You sure? I don’t mean to talk so much, I’m not letting you say anything.”

“I like hearing you talk.” You stroke your hand down to his plump ass and gently spread him a little so that you can position the head of your strap at his entrance.

Cecil gulps, closing his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay to take this all?”

He nods viciously. “Fuck yes.” He swallows again, not as loudly as before. “Please?”

“Only if you keep talking.” You tease.

Cecil rocks back slightly, an involuntary reaction and you giggle quietly.

“I’ll, I’ll keep talking,” he pants, “promise, I swear, just-”

You push your hips forward, pressing the tip of the strap against his hole and Cecil whines.

“Oh fuck, thank you, thank you. You know how often I’d just sit on a dildo and jerk myself off? Or stick it to the shower wall? I nearly passed out once, I just kept going and going. Fuck,” he groans deeply as the strap breaches him, stretching his ring of muscle wide so satisfyingly.

You ease into him slowly, despite how he’s regaled you with stories of how easily he takes things, you still don’t want to hurt him or cause him any discomfort. Pushing forward an inch before moving back half and then repeating.

“Blue’s like the opposite of me,” he pants, trying his best to let you set the pace and not misbehave. “Blue’ll hold off for ages, like a whole day. My idea of torture.” His voice breaks at the end of the word as you bottom out. “Ah, that’s good, so good,” he bites his lip.

“I, I need to come so much,” Cecil breathes heavily. “Like all the time, the smallest thing’ll set- set me off.” He moans as you press one hand to his lower back, making him bend even further, and the other firmly to his hip.

You move slowly, giving him time to adjust before you gradually pick up your pace.

The sounds he’s making are mouth watering, they make a weight settle deep in your belly, make you want to fuck him harder and just take whatever you give him.

“Blue’ll sometimes let me fuck his ass,” Cecil moans, “But only sometimes, because normally, oh fuck, I come straight away. I can’t help it, I get inside him and it’s over. Most of the time I come while I'm sucking his cock or eating him out. He’ll, he’ll pull my hair and, and, and, I come.”

He sobs as you pick up the pace, hammering your hips into him. Each thrust sends a wave of heat along your skin. You can feel wetness building between your legs and dampening your underwear. The base of the strap presses delisouly against your clit, rubbing just right whenever you fuck Cecil particaullary roughly.

He whimpers loudly, suddenly tensing like he’s been struck by lightning. “Oh, fuck, Toy please, right there!”

You focus all your energy on hitting him exactly the same, constantly fighting the urge to grab hold of his hair and pull him back to your chest so that you can sink your teeth into his neck.

“Some-some-sometimes,” Cecil pants, utterly drunk on pleasure, but needing to please you, to keep talking like you asked. “Blue’ll let me continue to fuck him even though I’ve come, I love that, it’s my favourite. I get to work myself up and come again and make him come everywhere.” He groans, shivering, his balls drawing up. “I like it when he uses me to get off, makes me, makes me, makes me- oh fuck!”

He yells as he comes again, squeezing the strap so hard you almost can’t fuck him through it. He doesn’t make as much of a mess this time, but still a dribble of white leaks out of his cock and onto the uppostery.

You grab hold of his chest as he slumps forward to stop him from falling face first and he whines softly, but appreciatively as he shivers with aftershocks.

“Sorry, I came so fast, I…” he rests his head back against you, his hair warm and sweaty. “You’re really good at that.” He smiles. “Give me a moment and,” he manoeuvres himself, slipping the dildo out of his ass and turning to face you. “I could eat you out, if you want?” He gives you the sweetest look as he asks and you nod a little shyly. You’re about to speak when there’s a tut and you nearly jump out of your skin.

Both of you turn to the sound at the other end of the room. Blue is standing there with his arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

“What’s this Pet?” Blue shakes his head, teasing in his voice.

Cecil blinks hard.

“Playing with Toy and not even making them come once?” He raises an eyebrow as he walks forward.

“I, I was going to.” Cecil huffs a little and you nod, wide eyed, trying to back him up. A sudden tension washes over you, making you want to shrink back and hide.

Blue stands in front of both of you, regarding each of you with a hard inspective stare. He takes Cecil’s chin, turns his head left then right.

“Look at this mess, Pet.”

Cecil opens his mouth to speak but snaps his teeth shut when Blue gives him another look.

“I’m sorry Blue.” You say softly, regretting speaking the second the words are out of your mouth.

He takes your chin next, forcing your eyes to meet his. But his expression is much softer when he looks at you. “Making Toy feel that they have to apologise for you.” He tuts again and strokes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I think there’s some punishment in order.”

You stiffen, but Cecil moans wantonly and nods.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @lonelyisamyw-0love @cosmickid-inmotion

@steven-grants-world @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87

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@queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard @ominoose @ierofrnkk

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eclairemaire · 2 days ago

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eclaire maire's writing master list

Meeting the Missus | Bob Floyd x Wife! Reader | Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

the sound of music | Lewis Pullman x reader | playlist | part 1 part 2

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chososrightnipple · 11 months ago

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❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞

a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!

part two.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU

▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.

▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.

▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(

▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.

▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.

▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.

▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.

▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.

. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU

▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.

▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.

▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.

▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.

▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.

▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.

▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!

▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.

▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.

▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same

▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.

▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.

▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?

▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.

▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!

. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN

▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying

▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.

▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.

▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.

▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.

▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.

▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.

▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.

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tojisun · 10 months ago

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i feel like simon loses it when you murmur, “like this?” every time you ride him.

it’s not even the first time that you’ve ridden him—and he sure as hell would make sure that it wouldn’t be the last—but there’s always something so sweet at the shy curl of your question, your watery eyes peering up at him like simon isn’t ravenous for every inch of you; your scent, your taste, your touch—he’s hungry for everything that you are.

so when you ask him—

like this? timid and achingly soft;

like this? heart stutteringly quiet and meek;

like this? overwhelmingly intoxicating—

simon buckles and wraps his arms around you because, “yeah,” simon replies, voice rumbling in a ragged rasp. “jus’ like that, love.”

his cock twitches, pulsing, and he has to bite down at the inside of his lip to stop himself from reaching his euphoria. it’s too soon, almost embarrassingly so, but he can’t help himself. it’s like your meek question is a trigger for him, unravelling his body until he feels like he is left as mere threads of his ecstasy, stroked to its tipping completion.

yeah, simon repeats to himself, his thick hands planted on the fat of your ass, squeezing greedily, before hoisting you up to feel the delicious press of your walls drag along his cock. it is such an enveloping warmth; all feverish and soft.

how could you even ask him anything like he isn’t being unmade?

you hiccup, breathy and hitching, as you curl close to him. simon chuckles.

“that’s right,” he says, fucking you back down his length. “s’good, huh?”

all he gets is that familiar thrum of your muffled hum, and simon coos because he knows he’s hit that threshold that renders you nonverbal.

see? such a sweetheart for him.

#something something mutual virginity kink something #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #afab reader #suns #little smut little soft simon little clingy reader <3

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earlgreylatte · 3 months ago

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Hello, You

(Invincible Variants x Reader) Of course he would come to see you. You’re the reason he’s here, after all.

After hearing the news to stay inside as the attack of Invincible copycats decimated cities across the globe, you hid under your blanket, the light from your phone illuminating your face as you watched the broadcast for any sign of your Mark.

You could only hope that he was alright, that he wasn’t blaming himself, that he knew you were waiting for him to come back safe. He already has enough problems as is.

Your distress is momentarily tempered when you hear your window slide open and your floorboards creek. When you don’t hear Mark immediately greet you or tease you for being bundled up, any concern you felt for Mark becomes overshadowed by fear for yourself as you hear footsteps near your prone form.

You can only tremble, clutching your blanket close to your body until the room goes silent. You shakily exhale, becoming confused when another quiet beat passes. When your breath returns to normal, the blanket is ripped off of you, eliciting a scared yelp.

For a moment you only stare in confusion at the sight of your boyfriend’s estranged father before realizing it’s not Nolan Grayson that stands before you, but Mark clad in a costume similar to his father’s. His face is impassive, mouth a firm line, so unlike the expressive nature of your Mark.

He calls your name. Quietly, yet there was something heavy in his tone. Something you could almost delude yourself into thinking was longing.

His hand brushes against your cheek, moving down your face before resting on your shoulder, a finger pressed against your pulse.

“You sound healthy,” he comments, deceptively neutral in his delivery, but even behind his goggles, you could feel his gaze burning into your face, “In my world, you had cancer. By the time the Viltrumites reinforcements had arrived, it was too late. All that talk about life changing technology and medicine, but it ended up being utterly useless to me.”

Your breath hitches, but he continues, “But here there’s a me that rebelled and an you that never got sick. That got to live past high school. That’s just the way it goes, I suppose.”

His hand travels lower, brushing past your collarbone before resting on your breast, your heart hammering beneath his palm.

“Do you know why I came here?” He wonders, his free hand planting itself on your bed, as he moves his body to hover above yours until the only thing you can see is him.

“No,” you whisper, staring into black lenses.

“Because even after all these years, the only heart I wish to know, to hold, and to cherish is yours. I was willing to play human for you, to tolerate the presence of the idiots that breathed the same air as us, but then they all had the audacity to outlive you. And I can’t move on. So the selfish man that I am, I’m here to take you. To have you by my side again, no matter how much blood I have to spill,” He declares before pressing his lips against yours, muffling your gasp and cries, gripping your wrist when you try to shove at him.

He only pulls away when you start to feel lighthearted, looking down at you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“You can cry and protest all you want. You loved me once, you can do it again,” he asserts, bring your wrist to his mouth, leaving a kiss against your pulse point. “This world was doomed the moment your Mark decided to rebel. I won’t let you die because of his delusions.”

“…I’m not her,” you speak up. “I don’t know you, not really.”

“I know,” he responds, “but every inch of my body is crying out to you, and I’d rather kill everyone on this planet before I let you go again.”

He releases your wrist, instead sliding both hands under your shirt, gloved hands savouring the feel of your skin, your warmth seeping through the fabric.

“…you’re shaking,” he notes, throwing a glance at your discarded blanket on the ground, “I’m sorry, I’ll warm you up. I promise.”

“Mark,” you say, out of instinct more than anything else, your mind coming to a blank.

“Shh,” he hushes you, voice gentle but firm, “Let me take care of you. Like I always do.”

A part of you is relieved that he hasn’t taken off his cowl because you knew you’d crumble under the emotion that would undoubtedly be in his eyes. The same eyes that always held so much love and adoration towards you.

His lips press against yours again, more demanding and heated, as hands travel higher and higher until—

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one that thought to come here,” an amused but familiar voice drawls out, the Mark on top of you pulling away, body covering yours protectively.

Another Invincible sat at your window ledge, black and yellow costume starkly contrasting the rest of your room. He smiles at you when you peak around Mark’s arm.

“Honestly, you were acting so high and mighty earlier, but you’re pretty desperate, huh?” He mocks as the other Mark’s face becomes stonier. “But, really, you should fuck off somewhere else because that’s my girl you’re feeling up right now.”

Before he can respond, another voice interrupts him as you notice yet another Mark, floating behind the one at your window.

“Fucking seriously? How did you even get here before me? I bet you halfassed your locations,” The Mark with a mohawk that has you raising your eyebrow complains, “I literally called dibs on this one! Find someone else!”

Feeling the tension build up, you only hope that Mark checks in and saves you from the bullshit you’re witnessing as they begin to snarl and yap at each other like feral dogs.

Why me, you lament.

Shiesty Mark: hey, babe, it’s Big Dick Friday—why the fuck are you all here??

Why is there no Omni Mark content, he and that shiesty mark were my favourite…

I feel like omni mark is the definition of ‘quite literally hates everyone but you’

Masterlist

#invincible x reader #invincible imagine #mark grayson x reader #invincible variants #invincible #omni mark #yandere invincible #yandere mark grayson #yandere x reader #thriller #sinister mark #mohawk mark #afab reader

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soapcloth · 4 months ago

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CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples.

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look.

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.”

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?”

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip.

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.”

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.”

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.”

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.”

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.”

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own.

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes.

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?”

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.”

Ideally not.

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.”

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up.

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face.

“What happened to you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.”

“I just spoke to him this morning-”

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.”

You frowned “I-I can’t just-”

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you.

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed.

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned.

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out.

Had Ewan come to his senses?

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you.

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though.

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table.

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor.

“S’good, Love. eat up.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in.

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.”

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you.

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast.

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.”

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze.

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.”

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up.

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort.

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.”

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl.

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.”

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen.

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.”

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.”

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette.

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back.

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop?

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point?

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest.

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss.

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth.

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong.

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.”

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around.

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way.

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?”

#fuck it we baaaaallllll #john price x reader #price #x reader #cloth writes #afab reader #fem reader #tw noncon

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bunnis-monsters · 1 year ago

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NSFW

warning: slight Yandere behavior, breeding

Hare!hybrid bf with bunny!hybrid gf

You, a cute bunny hybrid with soft, fluffy bunny ears and a cute cotton tail that wags when you’re happy or upset. You’re round and soft, the sweetest little thing your boyfriend has ever seen.

And then there’s your hare hybrid bf… he’s tall, thin, and unsettling, with eyes that bore into you and hair that is far from soft. He’s protective and possessive of his little bunny baby, keeping you safe and literally fighting any of his rivals to the DEATH.

He’s a bit nervous about breeding with you. You’re smaller, more fragile than him… but god you both go crazy once you go into heat… and you’re a lot more durable than he thought.

You take his cock so well, begging for him to give you a litter… his perfect little mate, his sweet bunny. No one will ever put their hands on you, unless they want to die a painful death.

——————

YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa

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whokilledsamara · 7 months ago

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Hello! I don’t usually make requests but i have one could u pretty please if u have time? 🥺

Anyways the request would be like homocipher boys (especially my bbg Mr Crawling) pussy drunk. Pls.

PUSSY DRUNK

a very short fic for a few of the Homicipher boys. {Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood}. Homicipher x afab!reader.

warnings! : each are different so a bit of violence, neediness, switch!reader, smut, porn, PORN NO PLOT!!! almost all of them are cunnilingus

{an: if you meant a fic with all of them in a gangbang sense, you can send in another request}

MR. CRAWLING

"Not now Mr. Crawling, im busy." you say softly, gently petting his head as he tugs at your skirt. "Please..", he practically begs, his lips turned into a pout.

he was always so desperate to please you, stopping at nothing as long as it made you happy. his eager face made it so hard to resist, and with a sigh, you gently part your legs before continuing to use your hands with what you were doing.

almost as soon as you do so, his face is shoved as far as it can go, a whine leaving his lips as he has to pull away to remove your underwear. a giggle escapes you while you watch.

...

"mngh.. fuck, please.." the words slipped so effortlessly from your lips, Mr. Crawling's head so deep between those legs of yours that you couldnt think straight.

your hand was fisted in his hair, tugging often. whines left him almost constantly, his hands holding up your thighs on his shoulders and off the chair. "Me want, More" he states softly, his voice muffled as he stares up at you, the lower half of his face still stuffed between your thighs.

as you nod softly, he hums and shoves two of his long and slender fingers inside of you, effortlessly curling them upwards towards your g-spot. "a-ah..!" your voice hits a high peak at the sudden intrusion, legs trembling as yet another orgasm rips through you, despite how many you had previously.

as overstimulated as you were, the man between your legs gives a few more licks to your clit, slowly pulling away. as he sits up, Mr. Crawling stares up at you with a cheeky grin, his chin covered in your juices. "Good." ..... "Big, Good."

MR. SCARLETELLA

as usual, he was feeling needy.

every since you pretty much marked him as your "slave", he has been near you at all times, getting upset whenever you interact with others instead of him.

this time in particular though, you watched tears fall from his eyes as he stared up at you with a desperate expression. despite the cold look on your face, and the amount of times you rejected him, he still pleads. "Please." he whines, his hands trembling against your thighs. "Please what..? not this again." you ask, glaring down at him. his hands grab at your raincoat, face a pleading mess.

"Need, You." he begs. you think for a second, a long exasperated sigh leaving your lips before you finally do what he always dreamed of. you roll your eyes, head tilting to a nod. that was all the conformation he needed.

...

hours had gone by, your unfortunate yet aching cunt so desperately clenched around his tongue, his hands clawing at your thighs.

his skilled tongue circled your clit an uncanny amount of times, his pace never slowing. "A-ah wait.. wait i cant.. fuccckk.." another orgasm ripped through you and then, only then, did his pace falter. "You, Like?" he asked, pulling his face up from your legs with an uncanny glare.

you nod many times, his smile only growing wider. his lips lean in and press against yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as much as you denied your feelings for the man, you couldn't think of anything but how good he felt and tasted. with a thoughtful groan, you wiggle your finger at him, signaling for him to stand. immediately he obeys, face flushed and juices dripping down his chin. your eyes are locked on his for a second before you speak in a demanding tone.

"Take off your pants."

MR. SILVAIR

he was NEVER needy. so why was today different?

one of the other residents had managed to piss him off so much that he couldn't think straight. his usually calm demeanor shifted completely dark, not even a hint of his usual smile on his face.

even Mr. Chopped seemed worried, asking softly if he was okay. Mr. Silvair ignored him, his gaze fixated on your eyes. he nods his head to his "research room", silently instructing you to go. he follows closely behind you, the heavy door slamming shut and locking you both in the room.

...

a huff leaves his lips as his hands angrily lift you up and slam you on his examination table, ass up for him, with little to no way for you to escape.

"W-what are you doing? Whats wrong?.. Mr. Silvair-!" you ask hurriedly, hands scrambling to find something to grab. he ignores your pleas and hikes up your raincoat, forcing off your panties with one quick motion. you couldn't see him as you tried to look behind you, but you felt him sink to his knees. "H-hey- ah..!-" your words are cut off with a moan as his long, snakelike tongue slips between your folds.

Mr. Silvair's strong hands keep you spread with ease, giving him full access as he greedily eats your pussy like its the last meal on earth. "Stop Squirming." his usually calm voice turns dark, his fingers digging a touch deeper into your hips as he keeps you held up for him.

as hard as you can, you attempt to keep your hips still. his tongue reaches as deep as it can reach, making you harshly bite your lip and see stars, juices running down his face as you finally orgasm. "A-ah right there--fuck! please.." your begs go unnoticed as he releases you and stands, walking out of the room without another glance. seemingly, this little outburst would hold him down for a while.

be glad it was only his tongue this time.

MR. GAP

a while after you got used to your residency at the complex, you learned your lesson about walking near the gaps.

the man who always seemed to appear at the worst moments, would mainly only mess with you. usually, it would only be a small poke as your ankle as you walked by, a tug at your hair when you had your back turned, or small scares he would pull off.

eventually you learned to ignore it, or altogether stay away from the walls, but unfortunately for you, today was a day you slipped up. as careless as it seemed, you were walking on your own, tiredness taking over your expression. the day was hectic, having to deal with more than one entity at a time.

a sudden yelp escapes your throat as you are yanked by your arm into a small opening in the wall. your back ends up pressed against the nearest wall, Mr. Gap's face level with yours with that sick, uncanny expression he always has.

you huff and use your hand to push at his face, the ever so sassy man rolling his eyes and grabbing your wrist. "You're No, Fun." he grumbles, hands fumbling with your shorts. "The fuck are you doing?" you mutter as a hushed yell, eyes glaring at his.

the grin on his face grows wider as he shoves off your pants, before suddenly dissolving into nothing. your eyes dart around, confusion evident in your expression until a sudden whine leaves your lips at an unknown feeling hits your core.

looking down, you find Mr. Gap nose deep in between your legs, eyes locked on yours as he smirks into you. your hand shoots down to grab his hair, attempting to pull him away as embarrassment fills your expression. though unluckily for you, or luckily depending on how you take it,, he doesn't move. instead, he groans into your hand, his hands tighten on your thighs as he pushes his face deeper, licking and sucking anything he can manage.

after many failed orgasms, and many tears from his constant edging, finally after everything he lets you cum, sucking hard enough on your clit to have a loud moan escape you, thighs clenching around his head.

though something tells you he isnt done.

MR. HOOD

as mono tuned as the man was, and as little as expressive as he was, he couldn't help his built up tension.

while no, he didn't understand the concept of love, or at-least he wouldn't admit it- he knew and felt the need for touch.

he often would allow you inside of his coat, usually just chilling in there or whatever you called it- but you never saw it as anything more than companionship. or so he figured. the moment he felt you experiment by placing your hand just above his crotch, his views changed.

with little to no effort, Mr. Hood plucked you out of his coat, setting you gently on the nearest table. he stared at you for a second, chest heavy. he could definitely sense your confusion- but as he kept his gaze on you, he reached out to grab your leg, his oddly feeling hand sat calmly on the inside of your thigh. "May, Touch?" Mr. Hood asked, an almost worried tone in his words. quicker than he could get his words out, you were nodding.

his body stilled for a second, almost as if he was debating his life choices, but ultimately decided to continue. gentle fingers reach under your raincoat, tugging down your panties with ease. and while he would never admit it, he quite greatly enjoyed the small sounds you made when his fingers traced your lips.

he hesitates for a second, before pushing a single ghostly finger inside. it was oddly cold, but felt so good inside of you as he worked his way in. a long moan leaves you, your hands reaching out to grab his arms.

one of his tentacles shoots out, replacing his finger that instead opted for your clit, rubbing in tight, hard circles. "Oh fuck.." you breathe out, legs trembling at your embarrassingly close orgasm. "I-im gonna c- mmngh!!" a hushed scream leave you as the tentacle curls, thrusting hard at your G-spot. it sends you over the edge, your juices flowing down your thighs and around the appendage. with a sigh, he pulls out, seemingly pleased.

"Turn Around."

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

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uglygirltrying · 6 months ago

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insecure princess!reader x barbarian!ghost cw: angst, brief sexual mentions, bad writing, confusing ghost insecure princess!reader who has never had any suitors. her sisters overshadow her. her mother pities her, afraid that her daughter will never marry.

fortunately, due to an alliance that her father has made, she finally marries. he's a barbaric prince, shameless and perverted. mean and scary.

princess!reader who tries her best to make love kindle between them, to live the fantasy that she's always had. she rubs lavender oil on her neck, tugs one of her nightgowns straps down her shoulder, to be desirable like the women in paintings. her lady-in-waiting helps her make her hair silky, and her dresses pleasing to the eye. but you can't put lipstick on a pig.

the prince only has her from the back. it's a relief that he wants to make love to her, but at the same time it breaks her heart. she wants to have a face that he wants to look at.

the princess' anxiety only worsens when she notices that the prince's older brother keeps looking at her. she's not used to attention from men, she doesn't know how to interpret it. he might want to hurt her, show everyone just how disgusting she is. or maybe he laughs with his mates about her, just like everyone else. or maybe... he likes the look of her, maybe he'd like to tug her nightgown down and have her chest to chest. it's a stupid thought, she shouldn't entertain them and embarrass herself. and he's her husbands brother!! it's wrong!

then, one night during a feast, her husband's drunk antics drive her to walk away. she wanders the dark hallways of the castle, moonlight and candlelight illuminating the paintings on the walls.

the princess stops to look out of a window, a lone tear running down her cheek. it's an unending weight on her shoulder. she hates the presence of other princess', the prettier princess', they only remind her of what she isn't. knights don't fight for her, artists don't paint her beauty, and princes don't ask her to dance at balls.

a noise makes her jump out of her thoughts, she whips her head around to look down at the hallway. it's him. her husband's brother, ghost. he stands few feet away from the princess, looking her up and down.

"c'mon," he urges, his voice deep and rough. ghost nods, gesturing down the corridor, to the feast. before the princess can even respond, he has already turned around and began to walk back. but she doesn't follow.

the princess stays in place, looking down at the floor as she sniffles. why should she go back there? they don't want her there. the man in armor turns back around when he doesn't hear the princess following after him. ghost lets out a sigh, as he hears her sniffle. with couple of steps, he's standing in front of her.

"why do you cry, princess?" he mutters, reaching up and gently holding her cheek in his scarred hand.

"i hate him..." it's a silent whisper, lost to the silence of the cold castle. her face twists as she fights against more tears.

"walls have ears, and they will twist your words into treason," ghost says firmly, shutting the girl up before she can be her own doom. his thumb run over the bottom of her eye, wiping up the tears that spill. ghost sighs and leans down, pressing a small kiss between her eyebrows.

"sweet princess, you need to return to the feast... i cannot take you away tonight," he whispers huskily.

"take me away...?" she repeats, even quieter, her brows knitted in confusion.

"if i killed him, i could claim you for myself," ghost murmurs. he looks down at her, letting the princess ingest his words.

her eyes are wide in shock. kill? for her? that is the most romantic thing she's ever heard. is this what courting is? if so, then she only wants more of it. she can't tell if he's mocking her, but there's something in his voice that makes her stomach stir with excitement. the wine in his breath makes her consider for a moment that he's messing with her, but she also wants to enjoy the attention.

"h-how would you take his life?" the girl straightens her back, trying to sound more confident.

"i would slit his throat, as easy as slicing a warm pie," ghost says it as if it's nothing, his running along her cheek. "i could take you far away, we would live in a house by the sea and you could wear pretty dresses for only me to see."

her breath hitches, feeling that flutter in her stomach. jesus christ. her hands clutch onto her cute little dress as she squeezes her thighs together. now she regrets giving her virginity to that twig, when a man like this could've had it, a man who truly deserves her purity.

"now be a smart girl and return to the feast." ghost murmurs and turns to walk back to the feast.

what?

she quickly reaches forward, desperately clinging onto the man's arm, to keep him there. if she let's go now, he might just come across a wench or two and change his mind. "b-but you said that-!" she stammers, utterly confused by the change in the air. there's no one there for her. no one who she's welcome to. her heart aches. she thought that this prince wanted her. what did she do wrong? ghost scoffs, gently prying the girls hands off his forearm. "you think it’ll be like a story, a hero slaying the villain and sweeping the princess off her feet. but this is real life," his tone is suddenly colder, more detached. “you’re chasing something that will never be yours.”

her hands stay in the air for a moment when he pulls away from her, reluctant to let go. his words sting, dig in deep and leave a pit for her to collapse in. her hands fall down and settle over her stomach as she fidgets with them.

she opens her mouth to say something, but the words escape her. it all changed so fast. some wench must've bewitched him, taken him from her. why can't she have anything, not even a man who wants her?

he looks at her again, his gaze intense, unflinching. his expression hardens, though there’s still a part of him that almost looks regretful. and then, he just walks away.

the princess can do nothing else than stand in place and hold back tears. she's alone again. the moonlight makes her shaking hands look blue. did she misunderstand? did she wrongly assume the meaning of his words? or was she just so naive?

it hurts to think, and the thoughts themselves hurt even more. it'd better if she just went to bed. ------------------------------------

inspired by the fact that i'm ugly and never had a boyfriend

#uglygirltryingyaps #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #afab reader #call of duty #cod 141 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon riley #ghost #ghost fanfiction #alternate universe

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deathc-re · 1 year ago

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oh, how he just wants to make a pretty little house wife of you. leave you with absolute freedom and autonomy over your time.

you want to go shopping? here's his card.

you want to join a yoga/ pilates/ kickboxing class? let's register you together!

you want to renovate the kitchen? my buddy knows a guy.

he wants to come home and smell the amazing cooking you have for him. or on lazy days, plop on the couch with you and eat take out.

he wants to smile at his phone while at work because you sent him a selfie of you eating breakfast at noon, or taking the dog for a walk, or with shopping backs in the trunk or with the people you're volunteering with or whatever it is your heart desires.

he wants to see you on the porch, barefoot and pregnant, rubbing your belly and waving to him as he pulls up in the driveway.

he wants to hear you ramble on about the new book you read and hated/loved. or help you brainstorm ideas for your passion project.

he wants to brag about you to all his work buddies and bring you to all the corporate dinners and stroke his own ego while you bashfully tell his coworkers that you "don't have a job, my husband takes care of everything."

NANAMIN, BAKUGO, KIRISHIMA, FATGUM, IZUKU, aizawa, yuuta, armin, iida, iwazumi, sugawara + whoever else you want!

22K notes · View notes

sweetiechenle · 5 months ago

Text

would you film my s*x tape? ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ haechan

pairing: non-idol!collegestudent!haechan x collegestudent!afab!reader

summary: you and your best friend haechan are strapped for cash and desperate to make some... quick. thank god he has the best idea ever to make a sex tape!

warnings: mdni 18+ only, smut, masturbation, swearing, marking, porn with plot, face fucking, possessiveness, unprotected sex (don't do this), dirty talk, oral (receiving and giving) fingering, manhandling, praise, creampie, pet names, fluff, crack/humor, this is so unserious, you are all freaks in this

you thought the line was crossed after the internet bill cost more than an arm and a leg or when the water was shut off because of an overdue bill, but this was probably the worst thing that could’ve happened. all you wanted to do was take a nice long hot shower, you stripped off your pajamas and climbed into the tub. turning on the water you jumped back and let out a small scream, scrambling to turn off the water, you let out small cries as the ice-cold water continued to pelt your back. finally shutting off the shower, you shivered, stepping out and wrapping a towel around your body, holding it close.

leaving the bathroom, you march down the hallway, finding your best friend and roommate, haechan, on the couch. he looked up from his phone when you stopped in front of him with your arms crossed.

he smirked, ‘not sure what i did to deserve this’

rolling your eyes and huffing, ‘did you pay the gas bill? The water was freezing!!’

haechan quickly stood up, ‘i thought you did!’

‘no it was your turn this month!’ you cried.

he fell back on the couch, letting his body slump in the cushions, ‘fuck’

you sighed, moving to sit down next to him. ‘im so fucking tired of being broke, dude’

‘yeah, you’re preaching to the choir’ you replied with a lifeless laugh.

‘our jobs fucking suck, our pay fucking sucks, these prices fucking suck. we have tried everything and now what else is there to do? ask chenle for money!? yeah fucking right, i’m not owing that little shit anything’ he vented.

you sighed standing up, ‘i don’t really know what else to do either, we are too busy to take on a second job, we tried delivering food and driving others around, but it’s never enough’ you agreed with him.

he grabbed your hand when you stood up, you looked down, ‘don’t worry, i’ll think of something’ you nodded, seeing the sincerity swirl in his chocolate brown eyes you nodded.

later that evening haechan, and you sat down for dinner in front of the tv watching whatever you could pay attention to, pushing your money problems to the back of your mind. you placed your empty bowl on the small table in front of you, ‘i’m not doing the dishes with the water being this cold’ you smiled. haechan laughed and grabbed your bowl, taking it to the sink to do the dishes himself, you followed him into the small kitchen. you stood and stared at his back, his shoulders now much broader than the boy you first met ten years ago, his slender fingers moving around the bowl as he scrubbed the food off, he turned back at you and it was so hard not to notice his plush, pink lips that moved into a small smile every time he saw you, and it always made your heartbeat skip. it was so hard to decide if you wanted to be him or be with him.

‘i thought of an idea’ he said nonchalantly, glancing back at you to see your reaction.

‘oh god’ you laughed, nervously you asked, ‘should i be scared?’

‘probably?’ haechan answered, finishing up the two dishes and facing you in the kitchen now.

he ran his hand through his chestnut-colored hair, his hands flying everywhere as he started to explain his thought process behind this ‘genius idea’.

‘we should…’ he paused, and you quirked your eyebrow up, ‘make a sex tape!’

you snorted and double up laughing, ‘you’re fucking insane’ to continue the theatrics you pretended to whip non-existent tears.

‘no, okay, listen… it’s a crazy idea, but think of all the money we could make’ he sighed, now growing embarrassed due to the idea he was so confident in before. his cheeks grew red, scratching the back of his neck, ‘as we said earlier, we tried everything, but not this’

‘fuck’ you breathed, he was serious, mind going a million miles a second trying to come up with anything better, ‘they make so much money on only fans and stuff i fear you might be right’ it’s not like you didn't want to have sex with your best friend and roommate, you always thought he was attractive and had a body you dreamed to have in your bed. of course you would never tell him that to his face, his ego would get too big you'd have to move out. being best friends since middle school had its perks, each other's first kiss, each other's first small sexual experience at the end of high school, something you both agreed to never speak of after it had happened. so, you figured with something like this it would be something similar, you would make a couple of sex tapes, post them, and then rake in the cash and never speak of it ever again. however you didn't want something this extreme to change any aspect of your relationship with haechan, yes you were attracted to him and he was your favorite person but you liked where your relationship was at right now.

he pumped his fists up in the air, whooping as you finally agreed that one of his plans was feasible. ‘i know! i think it's probably one of the best ideas i’ve ever had’ he said proudly. ‘i can borrow one of jaemins nice cameras to film, we have to research what could make us the most money too’ he noted.

you nodded, ‘we should lay down some ground rules too, i don’t want to just jump into this and both do something we regret’

he turned to you, acting genuinely confused, ‘what would we regret?’ you inhaled his cologne as he moved in closer to you.

you looked up at him as he caged you between him and the kitchen table, you shuddered as your lower back made contact with the cold surface. you looked down now too nervous to look into his eyes that stared down at you, ‘i-i don’t know haechan, i just don’t want anything between us to change’ you said now feeling small even though your heart was jumping for joy.

‘you don’t? that’s a shame’ he clicked his tongue in disappointment, his voice low. not knowing what to say, you gulped waiting for him to continue, ‘when it comes to you, i don’t think there’s anything i could regret sweetheart’

oh, damn him, if you weren't supported by the table your knees would've already given out and you would've sucked his dick right then and there. what he said lit your body on fire but the subtle pet name went right to your core, shamefully feeling your panties growing wetter. he always played these games when he wanted something, using cute pet names and pleading in a cute way where anyone would say yes, but this time seemed different. hearing the sincerity in his voice made the situation feel all too real, you couldn't believe this was real.

‘wha-’ you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, ready to ask for further explanation but he stopped you, placing his finger over your open mouth.

��do you trust me?’ he whispered.

all you could do was nod at him, while your best friend was playful and mischievous, you knew he could also be serious and forthright. it makes you think back to the time when mark wouldn't let haechan drive his car ever, saying he would never in a million years trust him. on the other hand when there was ever tension between his friend group he would be the one to go out of his way and get everyone all together again and diffuse any tensity. there were some things most people wouldn't trust haechan on but if he said you two could climb mount everest, you'd meet him at the spot.

‘good’ he replied, ‘get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow’ he smirked and stalked away from you, hearing his bedroom door shut you let out a long breath. the air around you seemed too thin and you took that as your cue to also head to your room. you got ready for bed, climbed into your sheet and turned off your lamp, falling back into the mattress you stared up at the ceiling mind blanking and trying to process everything that happened an hour ago. you turned and grabbed your phone, wincing as the light burned your eyes. opening up the search engine you turned on incognito because there was no way this was ever going into your search history. typing in ‘popular porn categories’ you nervously waited as the page loaded. ‘seriously?’ you said to yourself as you read the words ‘milf’ and ‘lesbian’, so those were off the table. continuing to scroll you made mental notes of everything that could get you clicks, words like ‘creampie’ and ‘anal’, some things you weren't against, but stuff that seemed pretty straightforward.

you put down your phone and sighed, bored and unable to sleep. so, doing what most girls do when they are bored and in bed: masturbate. you slide your hand down your body, stopping just above the waistband of your pink sleep shorts. automatically thinking of haechan and imagining it was his hands sliding into your panties. soon, you reminded yourself. you finally reached the sweet spot, you tried your best to suppress your moans as your fingers worked in circles around your clit, occasionally taking your fingers down to dip in between your folds and pump them in and out, closing your eyes and making up a picture of haechan in your head on him above you, wishing it was his cock being driven inside of you. biting down on your bottom lip as your hips lurched forward due to the friction, you let out a small cry as you came all over your fingers, ending it by rubbing the stickiness over your worn-out pussy.

you cursed silently, getting up and going to the bathroom to clean yourself. after you gave yourself a well-deserved whores bath you got a clean pair of undies and slipped back into bed, now tired enough to go to sleep.

you wake up to a sunny saturday morning, stretching your limbs out you get out of bed and grab your phone, heading to the kitchen for what little breakfast you can have. you and haechan were never big money makers, at least not yet. you had a job doing entry graphic design for a yearbook company, paid like shit, but at least you were working towards something while going to school. haechan was majoring in software engineering but couldn't find any companies willing to hire someone without a degree, he seemed to always miss the chance to apply for internships so he was stuck at his job of being a mystery shopper, which also didn't pay that well. so, you both lived paycheck to paycheck and scraped what little you could to do things with friends and go out, haechan always telling you to go bat your eyes and act cute with every man in clubs so you both could get free drinks.

you opened the pantry and opted for the generic-branded cereal, hoping to every god in existence there was some milk in the fridge, you slowly opened it and silently cheered when there was a bit left. having all the ingredients you made up your bowl of cereal, sat down in the creaky kitchen chair and dug in. looking around you noticed haechan wasn't home, his shoes were gone along with his house keys, he never mentioned going anywhere so you opened your phone and checked on ‘find my friends’. you zoomed in on his little contact picture that was set years ago and obviously the perfectly, most embarrassing picture. he was at jaemins, for some reason unbeknownst to you. you continued to eat and scroll through whatever social media app could hold your attention. after breakfast, you cleaned your bowl (despite the cold water) and sat on the couch to pass the time until haechan came home.

you heard the door swing open, immediately standing up you walked without even thinking up to haechan. he gave you an inquisitive look as to why you came upon him so suddenly. then you noticed the camcorder in his hand… jaemins camcorder, oh.

‘i didn't know you left this morning’ you explained.

‘i was at jaemins’ i know you wanted to say, ‘i was getting this.’ he gestured to the video camera in his hand, taking off his shoes and throwing his keys onto the table.

you were rooted in place as you watched him move around the apartment nonchalantly, ‘did you tell him what it was for?’ you asked restlessly. scared that he confided in jaemin of your little plan to make more money, if he did, you could probably never look into the poor man's eyes ever again.

‘oh god no, i told him it was for a project you were working on but couldn't come to get it yourself’ haechan answered and that consoled your worried mind. ‘he expects it back by thursday’ he winked at you, and closed the door to his room, leaving you a loss for words at the front door.

you went back to your room, confused as to why haechan didn't bring up anything about the sex tape(scapades), like he knew nothing about it while it was his idea in the first place. he was probably nervous and getting ready, didn't want to ruin the mood or overthink any decisions that were already put into place from last night. you decided to lay in bed and watch videos and play on your phone to pass the time. after a while of shifting around in bed and switching between the same ten apps, you didn't realize the time when haechan softly knocked on your door, saying that dinner was ready.

you got up and opened your door, surprised by the setup he put together, there was a white sheet over the coffee table in front of the tv with multiple candles lit (needed them for when your electricity got shut off), there were wine glasses included a plate of food that looked absolutely delicious. ‘wow, haechan you really outdone yourself’ haechan was romantic when he wanted to be, asking gift and flower suggestions for whatever girl he decided to get involved with during that time. it always stung a bit, but you could never turn him away as a best friend.

‘anything for my favorite girl’ he smiled, and led you to the couch, taking your hand as you sat down. you blushed at his comment, almost feeling like this was a real date at a real fancy restaurant. but of course reality is that you are eating spaghetti on a couch in pajamas before getting absolutely railed by your best friend. you almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. he poured some wine into your glass, and turned towards the tv to put on your favorite movie. it was all really sweet and made your heart swell with adoration for the boy next to you. even with the cards he was dealt in the situation he exceeded expectations and went out of his way to make everything special for you. you dug into your food and took a sip of wine, ‘ugh’ you gagged, ‘this is the cheap shit’ you both laughed at the reaction and he gave you a of course it is look.

‘don’t worry, when we are raking in the cash, i’ll get you the good stuff, and take you on a real, proper first date’ he smiled sheepishly, not confident in his words, worried you'd object to his obvious advances.

it was almost impossible to keep your heart from jumping out of your throat at his words, not believing what you just heard. you coughed, thinking of a way to get back at him, ‘i will be looking forward to that’. he beamed, giving you a toothy smile, your insides twisted, he was too cute for his own good, taking everything in you not to devour him whole right there. you swallowed your spit and turned back towards your food, finishing it off within a couple of bites.

haechan got up and took your plate to the sink, not bothering to clean them. he walked up to you and took your hands in his, looking down at the connection. wondering if he could feel how hot you were, haechan was always a touchy person and cuddled with you more times than you could count. but those times didn't make you feel this way, you knew tonight was different. ‘go get ready,’ he walked you to your bedroom door, dropping your hands he went to his door, ‘the video camera is all charged up’ he went inside and with that you scrambled around your room, thinking of what ‘get ready’ could mean. it was his job to prep you right? pacing around the room reality sunk in and you knew what to do. now going through your small closet, trying to find the only piece of lingerie you had. a gift from a past boyfriend, probably worth more than what you wanted to know.

‘ah-ha!’ you pulled it out of the pile of clothes that remained on the floor, it was somewhat misshapen from being at the bottom of the wreckage but salvageable. it was a red teddy with lace and a thong that hugged your curves perfectly. it was comfortable and sexy while also leaving some stuff up to the imagination, you knew haechan would love it. mentally thanking yourself for shaving everything before the gas got turned off, you slipped it on and checked yourself in the mirror, twisting and turning admiring the way it snatched your waist perfectly. you moved to your small vanity and put on light makeup, with plenty of mascara, knowing it would be picture-perfect to let the camera witness as it flows down your cheeks knowing you'd probably end up crying in pleasure soon. you threw on your robe and peeked outside of the door, haechan was nowhere to be seen but you were ready, hyping yourself up there was no backing out now.

you moved towards his door, softly knocking and waiting for him, clit quivering in anticipation. you pictured all the ways he'd have you tonight, silently hoping this would take off and you'd have no choice but to make more videos to appease the viewers that didn't even exist yet. haechan opened the door, he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly. ‘you look beautiful, doll’ he breathed, like he was a tiger, and you were the prey, he took his time taking in your appearance.

you blushed, ‘you look gorgeous too’ he was in a tight-fitted black shirt along with those famous gray sweatpants, and you could barely control yourself. he looked like a god, his brown hair now dark, the light only coming from his room. his features were highlighted under the warm glow, his eyes growing dark in hunger, his nose perfectly sculpted and you were ready to beg him to let you sit on his face, needless to say, he was absolutely divine.

he opened his door wider, ‘shall we start?’ his eyebrow up in question. you nodded walking into his room, entrapped in his space and musk, you could get lost in the space forever. he grabbed your hands like before, ‘do you trust me?’ he was sincere, and you nodded, ‘because everything is about to change’

you nodded, whispering, ‘i can't wait’ you looked up at him, silently pleading for him to do anything at all. he leaned into you, noticing how his eyes kept moving from your eyes to your mouth, bracing yourself and closing your eyes, his breath was on your cheek.

‘the camera is rolling baby’ and with that he graced his lips with yours, moving to a rhythm you both fell into immediately. you could feel the sparks fly as your heart soared, his lips fitting perfectly into yours, soft but also rugged with the way he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. your body now flush with his, shrugged off your robe you let it fall to the ground, haechan stopped his movements and took a step back. breathing hard and looking over your body in a very new way, staring at him feeling like daniel being thrown into the lion's den, chest heaving up and down you whined due to the surprising lack of contact. ‘fuck, you are so fucking hot baby’ he moaned, going back to the position you were both in. you gave him a coy smile, ‘did you wear this just for me? do you know how crazy i get when you walk around the apartment looking like a total slut? now here you are, in something that barely covers anything’ he grabbed the strap over your shoulder, pulled it back with his finger, and let it slap back on your skin. you sucked in a breath, feeling the slick pool into the thread, on your thighs. ‘not sure what i did to deserve this baby’ he ghosted his hands over your body, grabbing onto your lace-covered tit. you moaned at the contact, his lips now on yours again, moving much rougher and more hungry and teeth clashed together and tongues dancing in dominance. haechan picked you up, lips never leaving yours until he threw you on the bed, landing with a thump, going limp you grabbed the sheets in anticipation, watching as he threw off his shirt and pants. your mouth dropped, ready to take him right now if he wanted. his defined body shone with sweat, abs glistening, eyes finding his happy trail and erection confined in his briefs your mouth watered at the sight. you figured he was blessed with a good length, but now you were wondering if it would even fit.

taking the situation into your own hands, getting on all fours you crawl to him at the end of the bed. ‘haechan, please let me suck your cock’ you begged, yearning for nothing else but to feel his fat and heavy member choke you. he said nothing, acting unimpressed like your pleads didn't meet his expectations. whimpering in desperation, ‘i can show you what you deserve my pretty boy, please use my mouth’ he groaned at the pet name, stroking his length. he took a step in front of you, face now in front of his thick cock.

‘lay on your back’ he ordered, obliging immediately, he grabbed you and brought you towards him, head now hanging slightly off the bed. you watched him upside down stripping himself of his briefs and letting his member free, it slapped against his toned stomach, never taking his eyes off of you as he spit in his palm and pumped his erection. he had such a pretty cock, and your core burned at the beautiful sight in front of you. thighs instinctively rubbing together to create some friction. ‘open up’ mouth falling open he teased the tip on your lips. he pushed his length into your mouth, trying to adjust quickly, haechan started trusting at a small pace, letting you get used to the feeling. haechan shudders at the hot feeling, groaning as you gag on his cock. drool piled up and spilled out of your mouth and all over heachan, he trusted faster losing his mind over the noises you continued to make. you grabbed the sheets under you until your knuckles went white, mind spinning from the position as your best friend fucked your mouth with full force. he grabbed your boob under the lingerie and pinched your nipple making you shiver and cry around his length. he pulled out and you coughed and whipped the spit from your face. moving back into an upright position, collecting yourself, and watching as haechan went to grab the camcorder that sat on his desk. he brought it to your face, ‘did you enjoy sucking my dick?’ he asked.

‘yes’ you breathed, ‘your cock is so pretty and big’ staring into the camera lens, haechan watched you through the screen, his dick jumped in excitement at the lewd scene in front of him. his hand reached behind your head, you accepted it melting into his touch. grabbing your hand he pushed your lips back to his pulsing member, head red with anger and ready to let go. instinctively opening, he pushes it back into your mouth, raggedly pushing the back of your head down his length until your nose touches his pelvis. gagging and slurping up your spit as best as you could, it dribbles down your chin as you moan around him, making him groan at the vibration. as glassy eyes stared into the camera, the camcorder picked up the whimpered sounds as hot, wet tears glided down your cheeks. after a couple of last thrusts haechan lets go of your hair, pushing you off of him, and moves back, ‘give me a show baby, take it off’ you oblige and start with the straps, trying to make it as sexy as possible for the camera. you smile innocently, as you free your tits, moving your hand to play with it, before lifting your lower body to strip yourself naked.

haechan moans, as you toss the garment to the floor, staring up at him he cages you in, climbing on top of you and kissing your neck, violently sucking on the skin and lightly biting, ‘im going to leave so many bruises, so everyone knows you're mine’ he whispered against your sensitive skin. you mewled at his words, the thought of being his. ‘please,’ you gasped through rugged breaths, ‘make me yours’ he placed his knees between your thighs, feeling your wetness as it pooled onto the sheets and him. your hips buckled forward, trying to get some sort of pressure onto your sopping cunt. he continued moving downward, the camcording moving with him, letting it see what he did. he kissed over your boobs, giving them little kitten licks as you moaned at the contact.

finally reaching your entrance, he motioned for you to take the camera and film him, which you did with shaking hands. now pointed at him, he stared into the lens, as you watched him through the screen he delved in, giving your lips small licks which turned into harsh lapping sounds as he abused your clit. he never looked away from the camera, the eye contact making you moan as it felt so intimate, yet so dirty. this really was the best idea he ever had. you hissed as his finger slid into your entrance, so hot and warm, you distinctively moved your hips towards his hand, wanting more. he added another finger, stretching you in preparation, ‘fuck, you are so tight’ he observed, pumping his fingers in and out of you. the coil in your stomach tightened and the air around you felt so heavy, you knew the band was about to snap. shuddering, your eyes and head rolling back ‘i think i’m gonna cum chan’ you whimpered. but, he stopped and his fingers exited your hole with a squelching sound, crying at the loss of contact your head moved back towards his, shooting daggers.

‘i want you to cum on my cock beautiful. watch you fall apart as i fuck you stupid’ he confessed, grabbing the camera from you. now turned back towards you, you gulped, body buzzing and hot at his nasty words. he grabbed your ankles, forcing you closer to him. haechan pushed your legs against your chest, giving him perfect access to your swollen lips. he casts the camcorder downward, ready for the money shot. lining up his tip with your entrance, he pushes in, causing you both to gasp and sigh at the contact. finally bottoming out, his hips reach your thighs, giving you a minute to adjust he started to thrust lightly, making you keen at the feeling of being so full, that, and the wet sounds of your bodies, almost made haechan cum right there on the spot. ‘fuck, you feel so tight baby, you don't know how long i’ve waited for this’ he whimpered, trying to keep himself composed. moaning at his confession you grabbed his arm and brought him down suddenly to kiss you. now in a missionary-esque position, haechan sat the camcorder down on the bed to face you both, sloppy kisses were exchanged, and you both gasped into each other mouths when haechan went deep and hit your sweet spot. moving up to his knees, and grabbing the camcorder, he pulls his hips down harder, drilling into your weeping cunt. you grunted growing incoherent as you babbled about how his dick was so big and for him to keep going, ‘you take me so well pretty girl’ he groaned, zooming in on your fucked out expression, ‘it’s like you were made for me, you're mine baby, all mine’ he breathed, his rhyme becoming sloppy and harder, faster.

you could feel fire start to poll in your lower abdomen, sinking your nails into haechans forearm as he moved circles in your burning clit with his free hand. ‘cum with me baby please’ he begged, ready to release inside of your warm pussy. you tensed feeling the lightning strike as you felt the earth stutter on its axis. groaning loudly, you finally let go, waves of pleasure coarse over your body, walls convulsing griping haechan like a vice. he whimpered above you, stilling his hips as he coated your insides white, curses flew out of his mouth as he made small trusts, loving the feeling of overstimulation. your thighs vibrated and jerked, letting your orgasm die down, haechan pulled out slowly, making you both hiss. he sighed contently, getting up and heading to the bathroom and coming back with a washcloth. he videotaped as his sticky substance dripped from your hole, cleaning you up thoroughly as he continued to zoom in.

‘well… that's a wrap’ he said cheekily and turned off the camera, placing it on his bedside table. you laughed at the comment, moving closer to him as he climbed into bed beside you. heart floating as he pulled you closer, bringing your head to rest on his chest. ‘i think that would win at fucking sundance’ he whispered, making you snort and playfully hit his chest. you both sat in comfortable silence, his fingers ghosting your back, moving up and down.

‘did you mean it? what you said?’ you asked, feeling small in his embrace.

‘what part?’ he ventured, grabbing hold of your shoulder.

‘when you said you had been waiting for this moment, was that real or just for the tape?’ you felt stupid needing clarification. you both had decided to make it overzealous so it would do numbers, he wouldn't think twice to say any of that stuff when money was on the line, or maybe he had meant it and in the heat of the moment confused about what you were also thinking.

‘of course i meant it love, if you can't tell, i’ve been in love with you for a while’ he confessed.

you gasped, head lifting off of his chest to gaze up at him, eyes shown in full sincerity, he went on ‘there's no one else who understands me as you do, you continue to put up with my shit, you're honest when i need it most, but you also support me in everything i do. you spent a week trying to find any companies that would take me on, going as far as to call continually when i never asked you to in the first place’

you groan remembering the hiring manager that had said ‘his resume wasn't good enough’ to which you gave them an earful telling them they would be stupid not to accept him. ‘you laugh at my stupid jokes and you always let me win in league, you are effortlessly beautiful without even trying, even after you have woken up after 15 hours of sleeping, seeing your face walk out of your bedroom door is the best feeling, i get so excited when you come home from work, like i’m a dog waiting for its owner’ you cry as you both sit up, holding each other.

‘haechan… i don't-… you’re my best friend, the person who knows me better than i know myself,’ he wipes small tears pricking from the corners of your eyes, just as they are about to fall ‘you always know when i’m down, you help me with tasks whenever i get frustrated and you never complain, you are my rock and i know i can always rely on you for anything, you’re my home.’ you finished your turn of the confession with a simple, ‘i love you too’

haechan gives you a small kiss, ‘no more crying, we should rest’ moving to turn off the lamp next to him, he puts you in an embrace and lays you down back in your previous position, kissing your hair you let your eyes flutter shut. ‘what if i told you i was a secret billionaire?’ he mumbled.

you squirmed, pretending to be annoyed at his antics, he gripped tighter, trapping you in his warmth, whining ‘please, go to fucking sleep’ you grumbled, finally settling down after a long day of shooting.

you stirred awake as the sunlight from the window hit your eyes, blinking you stretched and sat up, groaning as every muscle seemed to ache after last night. ‘good morning girlfriend’ haechan sang, walking into his room holding a plate of food for you.

‘girlfriend?’ you questioned, grabbing the fake porcelain from him.

he shook his head from side to side ‘mmm well we’re married in my head already, so that’s we can go with for now’

you sighed and nodded, smiling, ‘okay boyfriend, whatever you say’ picking up the bagel you got ready to take a bite when haechan gave you a nervous smile without saying anything, still standing in front of you ‘... what's wrong?’

‘don’t get mad, but hypothetically, what if i told you i forgot to hit record last night’ he cast his eyes downward, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

you groaned, knowing he was still messing with you, ‘i saw the red light on the camera stupid, you can’t fool me.’ he looked up hearing the crunch from the toasted donut, happily eating away. ‘now come here and massage my back’ he immediately obliged, coming behind you to rub your pain away. ‘and make sure to delete everything before giving the camera to jaemin. please.’

haechan stopped, ‘but he said he wanted to see!!’

you turned around ready to grab him by the neck and not in a good way, ‘HAECHAN’. all he could do was laugh and hug you as tight as he could, never wanting to let go.

‘holy shit babe, come here and look at this’ haechan called from the kitchen, you came buzzing in, eager to see what he had to show you.

‘what is it?’ you mused, glancing down at his phone as he handed it to you.

you gasped, seeing the number of money your videos have made over the past couple of months, ‘that's enough to pay for four months of rent!!’ after a couple of months and making more videos, you started posting them to a private channel online and promoting them in various placing, thus helping you both reach pretty decent number for amateur porn. you even moved into his bedroom and turned your old one into a perfect little studio.

‘i know!!’ he got up from the table and hugged you in celebration, ‘and we owe it all to our first subscriber and top donator… maybe we can ask him to film for us some time’

you dropped your arms and grimaced, ‘jaemin’

it really was the best idea he ever had, and you love him for it.

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