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gurugirl · 7 months

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Next Door Neighbors | Part 2

neighbor!harry x reader

Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.

A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!

Word Count: 5k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff

. . .

Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.

Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.

He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.

But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.

You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.

“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.

“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.

“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.

“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.

Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”

You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.

“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”

“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”

And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.

Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.

Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.

You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.

“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”

“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”

You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”

Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”

You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”

Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.

“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.

Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”

He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.

Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.

There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”

Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”

You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”

Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”

His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”

His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”

He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”

Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.

“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”

You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.

Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.

“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”

Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.

“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.

And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?

“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.

“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.

You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”

You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”

Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.

You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.

He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.

You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.

“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”

You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.

“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”

Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”

You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”

His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”

The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”

Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.

He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.

And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.

You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.

Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.

Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”

You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.

He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.

His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.

You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.

You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.

He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”

You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?

He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?

You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.

You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.

A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.

Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.

He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.

A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.

“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.

Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.

His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.

He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.

You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.

You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.

“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”

You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”

He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”

You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.

“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”

You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.

You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.

He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.

You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.

“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”

Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.

“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”

You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.

You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.

You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.

“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.

You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”

He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”

You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”

Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.

“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.

“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”

Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”

You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months

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hello! i stumbled upon your blog and i must admit i LOVE the bakery theme. can i get a berry trifle and coffee with oscar piastri please? thank you so much!!!

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! check the original post for all the information & prompts! as for this prompt, i am loving that people are into the whole rivals idea. i love writing rivals for f1, it's like the soap opera aspect of f1. it's very funny.

berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals) served to you by oscar piastri (formula one!)

cw: smut/pwp, (failed) rivals au, driver!reader, driver!oscar, a dash of breeding kink, unprotected sex, references to masturbation, cowgirl position,

okay, oscar didn't hate you. despite what the press had been alluding to after hungary, oscar didn't hate you. in fact, he had respect for you, you were breaking barriers for women in the field.

but by god, did you light a fire in him.

when he first met you, you were in the semi-baggy driver's clothes. the fabric didn't give you much shape. so oscar just thought you were the cute new driver.

that was until you attended an event for ferrari with leclerc, the dress-code did not include the driver's suit. that was when oscar got a good look at your figure. there was a strength to your form that could clearly be seen by the lack of full sleeves on the dress you wore.

oscar didn't know he was attending the gun show!

but that only made his carnal craving for you grow deeper.

"she's turning a lot of heads." charles remarked before he took a sip of his drink, "i told her that if she really worked on it, she could get some hefty sponsors."

"or a date." lando remarked as the three men watched you talk your way through the room. eventually lando said, "i'd smash." before he downed his drink and got up to get another one.

charles looked to oscar and asked, "what are your thoughts on her, piastri?" he was genuinely curious, oscar was quiet about you.

oscar sighed and made a face, "i want to crush her on the track." he turned to the other man and shrugged, "i don't care if she's a woman, i'm here to win."

you beat him in belgium. you also beat norris, leclerc, and verstappen. you held that trophy over your head while the national anthem of your home country played. oscar swore that he saw tears in your eyes.

there was a buzz about you over the course of the summer break. oscar took it as an opportunity to invite you to england. all driver's ran in the same circles and oscar was just extending an offer for you to get out of monaco for a week!

"i promise, it does get sunny... sometimes." he said to you over the phone. he didn't admit but when he heard you beautiful voice on the other end of the line, his hand was already around his cock.

he was in anticipation for your visit and was more than happy to pick you up from the airport. you threw yourself at him and laughed.

"you were right, it is hot!" you were wearing a light sweatshirt, "i honestly thought you were fuckin' with me. you must be cold, mister australia!"

he scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes went wide when you hastily took off the sweatshirt, exposing more of your body to him. he didn't know that ferrari made such tight tank tops.

oscar's plans to really cement you as a rival failed upon impact. he thought this trip was going to be really getting to the core of you and cementing himself as you rival. but, instead you were helping him make breakfast because you 'felt bad' that he was doing 'everything'.

it was two eggs in a pain and couple of sausages.

you lingered around him, he noticed by the second day you smelt like his body wash when you got close enough to him. you were all bright smiles, soft gazes and tight little tops.

oscar ended every night with his cock in his hand, idly masturbating until his legs cramped up. the sick little kink he often let his mind wander about was the breeding kink.

his dream was two seasons with you at mclaren (sorry, lando). you in the bright orange across the paddock. then halfway through the second season, you start feeling unwell. you'd be too stubborn to take a pregnancy test, but with the amount of tests drivers have to take, it wouldn't be long before you were confronted by the fact that oscar got you pregnant! then you start a bright new future as mrs. piastri, and lando can come back (yay, lando!).

that was why his plan to make you his rival failed, because his need to get his cock wet overrode everything else.

it took a week before you two started sleeping together. you could only drink, laugh and play so many video games before you led him back to his bedroom like a siren.

it was met with giggles and bad jokes. hands touching skin and finally the clothes were shed.

oscar liked you on top, as did you. you liked having the control of your movements as your pussy was a vice around his leaky cock. you were on birth control (duh), but the other driver didn't need to know.

he honestly thought he was taking you raw.

"tell me who's going to win it all this year?" you asked as you rolled your hips. his cock was snug in you, you had to admit, the other driver was packing some heat between his legs.

and he wasn't afraid to use it.

oscar rubbed his thumb against your hip and said, "yeah, number eighty-eight for mclaren." he smiled cockily.

"wrong, try again." you said as you laughed and tapped him on the nose, which made him groan. you bent over himself as you rocked your hips and kissed at his face. he looked visibly relaxed.

"oh c'mon!" he laughed as he tried to set the pace himself. but you placed your hands on his chest and anchored yourself. you were not letting him take control.

you leaned in to kiss him again. the air conditioning in the room prevented it from getting too hot. but, oscar could see the slight sheen of sweat on your naked body in the afternoon light.

"you don't think i'll beat you?"

you shook your head and continued to move up and down on his cock. you pushed the hair out of your face, "oh, don't be silly, piastri." you playfully slapped his toned chest, "we all know i'm going to beat you." then flashed your press smile.

words like that made him want to breed you even more. but, he kept those thoughts to himself. he didn't want to risk losing such a sweet pussy in his close proximity.

it'd be hard to win championship when you were carrying the other driver's baby!

you rested up against his chest and rolled your hips. you had taken his cock to the root and it nudged against you with each thrust of your hips. you could feel his balls up against your pussy.

"shit, fuck. you feel so good."

"i bet you say that to all the girls you bring back to this place." you laughed as you really worked at riding him. you panted heavily as you moved against him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, "nah, nah. no girl's as pretty as you." oscar's plan slipped through his fingers, he wanted you more as a wife then a rival.

"well, aren't you sweet, oscar."

the two of you continued to fuck in the afternoon light. the pleasure pumped through your body as you rode him. you knew you weren't going to last long, that was one thing you could admit about oscar.

he was a good fuck.

the bed squeaked a little bit under the both of you. oscar's orgasm hit him hard and he finished inside of you in a huff. his nails dug into your hips as you continued to ride him till you found your completion.

he looked in a bit of a daze as you continued to hump against him. you felt the sweat on your back and oscar's strong chest under your nails, your short nails scratching against the skin.

"shit, oscar." you groaned as you reached your climax.

you were both out of breath. you didn't know what to do after you stopped your movements besides just giving him a firm pat on the chest. you panted, "good. good."

he laughed, "excellent. now c'mere."

you soon laid out on his chest and linked your fingers with his. your legs tangled together as you laid there trying to catch your breath. it was almost intimate.

you kissed at the other's collarbones, "so what do you say, piastri? another round and then we can get some dinner?"

that evening you called charles up, you were seated on the balcony of the flat with your legs kicked out on the small table.

"leclerc residence, charles speaking." he yawned on the other end.

you replied, "it's barely eight o'clock. you're getting too old." with a hint of laughter in your voice. in all fairness you were a little tired too.

"glad to see you're alive in england. how's oscar?"

"good, good. our little mission is a success." you beamed on the other end, "oscar will be as docile as your little leo."

charles chuckled on the other end, "if he is, he's going to need more training. i don't get why you didn't start with lando? he was into you too."

"yeah, but oscar's accent got me first." you sighed, "i mean, eventually the two will tear each other apart." you shrugged.

"or tear you apart." charles remarked.

"i'm not too worried there, leclerc. you men are quite funny sometimes. i'll tell you everything when i get back."

your teammate replied, "whatever, just don't come crawling back to me when they both catch on and you've got cum coming out of your ears."

formula one was a man's world, but if you could keep a man like oscar piastri on his knees for you. then maybe you had a chance of winning the championship.

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hannieehaee · 7 months

Note

luna, my beloved,

can i get a very down bad (and also very horny) woozi, please?? he just gives me the vibes of a very obsessed boyfie when he's truly in love.

also, i love your works so much!!!! ♡♡♡

18+ / mdi

content: simp!jihoon, established relationship, afab reader, smut, dry humping, very fluffy, jihoon is insanely in love with reader its disgusting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, etc.

wc: 2157

a/n: thank u so much!! <3 i rewrote this four times bc way too many scenarios of woozi being down bad plagued my brain (still do), so i hope u enjoy what i came up with <3

masterlist

even after months, jihoon was unable to understand this weird feeling in his chest. one that he only ever got when he was around you (and on occasion whenever he thought about you). it was some sort of inexplicable heaviness. the beating of his heart would speed up and it would feel as if time slowed down. every touch and every breath felt like a sensible decision, and his thoughts would turn into static.

sometimes it was just in the background. sometimes he'd hold your hand or listen to you rant about your day and still be able to act as a functioning human. but there were times in which it simply overtook him.

he had had relationships before; both physical and not, but he had never experienced this feeling before. jihoon was unsure whether or not he liked it. it made him feel weak, but also made him feel more.

there were instances in which this feeling would be accompanied by lust. one accidental peak of a sliver of skin of your thigh and his lips would go completely dry. one grace of your hand a little too close to a sensitive part of his body and his knees would buckle. he was unsure if you knew about how easily it was for you to get him ready to plea for even one touch, but the truth was that it didnt matter. there was no space in his empty head to think about it in those moments.

truth was, jihoon was insanely enamored by you. some (soonyoung) would call him 'down bad' for you, but jihoon liked his term better. being enamored entailed that jihoon adored everything about you, with the pleasure you gave him included among those things. though there were times in which his lust simply grew so big that jihoon could admit to simply being down bad horrendously for you.

currently, that feeling in his chest was ever so present, and he knew that his lust was just about to take over. nothing had yet happened, but still, he felt a desperation that brought a crimson color to his ears. just looking at you as you slept beside him had him holding in a whine of your name.

to be fair, you looked angelic in this moment. you were facing him – although your face was almost completely pressed up against your pillow. your arms were wrapped around your chest in front of you, causing your breasts to press up together in the form of soft mounds peeking from under your tank top. your blanket was covering most of your body but still gave him sight of some of your shoulder. your hair was covering most of your features yet he could still rejoice in your mushed up face as you seemingly made yourself as small as possible. soft breaths coming from you were the only thing he could hear. his senses were all overtaken by you, even as he leaned down and quietly smelled the floral scent from your shampoo.

the beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it ran the risk of waking you up.

it's not that he was nervous, he was simply too caught up in you. every emotion you ever made him feel was making its way to the surface, causing his hands to clam up and his lips to run dry. he wanted to touch you so badly, but he knew that the moment he did, he would fall to his undeniable lust for you. it was hard for him to simply adore you from a distance, as his carnal feelings for you would always take over somehow.

however, his need for you won, making an embarrassing side of himself take over and pull you closer to him in order to wake you up un the softest way he could. he began to pepper kisses on the nude sliver of skin your shoulder offered him, breathing heavily as he prepared himself for what he knew would come as soon as you arose from slumber.

it was only a few moments later in which you began waking up, murmuring his name in that soft morning voice he loved so much.

he hadn't mean to sound so desperate that soon, but the moment he felt you begin to arch against his hold, – encouraging him to keep kissing any available skin – he couldnt help his pleas to let him have you in a way he relished in knowing only he had the privilege of having you.

"a– angel, please ... need you so bad ..." were the first words out of his mouth, murmured against your neck as his hands rubbed at your hips through the blanket.

"hoonie? what's wrong?", you were clearly still half asleep, only taking in his touches but not computing the words he was saying. but it was fine. he could be more specific if need be.

"you're so soft ... so pretty. can i have you, angel? please?" he didnt care how desperate his first words to you that morning sounded. he never felt any shame in showing you just how badly he always wanted you.

"oh, hoonie ...", you breathed, removing the blanket from the way and pressing yourself even closer to him.

the two of you were now curled up against each other with no distance between your bodies as you faced one another. with your lack of clothing, – him in just boxers and you in a tiny tank top and booty shorts to match – jihoon was now able to feel you up as he wanted; something which he took advantage of immediately.

he finally disconnected his lips from your skin, now making eye contact at the close proximity between you. however, before even being able to express his want for you once more, his lust won over him again, making him press his lips against yours with urgency.

he moaned and whined against your lips, his hips searching for yours as he positioned himself above you. there was no way for him to help himself. you were just so soft and pretty and beautiful and perfect. nothing couldve possibly interrupted that cloud of lust that was taking over him.

jihoon still had trouble processing how such a pretty girl could ever be his. he knew he was in love with you since the day he met you. just from a first glance, he thought you the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. speaking to you as acquaintances had been hard, but befriending you had been the biggest challenge. even back then, his feelings for you manifested in very noticeable ways. all his friends would mock him for the way he'd stumble over his words or stare at you a little too much. luckily for him, this did not last long. by some grand act of god, you had found some sort of liking towards him, giving him various obvious openings for him to finally ask you out (and admittedly, it took a lot of silent encouragement from you to get him to finally act up).

upon starting your relationship, it didnt take long for jihoon to make his adoration for you known, constantly letting you know how perfect he found you in any and every capacity. all his defenses would go down when he was around you, causing him to wax poetic whenever his emotions took over him – not to mention the endless files of love songs he had produced since meeting you. anything you desired, he would deliver just for the promise of your happiness.

your relationship had him thinking that maybe his past self suffered a grand deal in a past life; just enough for karmic retribution to grant him the girl of his dreams in the next.

and that's how he felt at this moment, grinding his clothed cock against your cunt as you whined into his mouth. could life get better than this? better than having the love of his life mewling into his mouth as he carelessly canted his cock into the warm heaven between your legs? he couldnt help but groan at the reminder than you were all his, and that he had access to every inch of your breathtaking body for his and your pleasure.

"fuck ... wanna fuck you, but you feel so fucking good like this– shit ..."

"dont stop ... i can cum like this. promise!", you cried whilst pulling at his hair, assuring his mouth stayed glued to yours.

as much as he wanted to keep letting you lick into his mouth and pulling at his hair, he was craving the two mounds that were pressing up against his chest. without further thinking, he disconnected your lips, groaning at the way you tried to chase his lips before hearing you whine once again due to his rushed removal of your top and the feeling of his tongue toying with your tit.

he practically devoured your tits, licking and nipping at every inch of them before using the tip of his tongue to play with your nipples. the way you cried his name had him losing his inhibitions, making him grind even harder and faster against you. your gorgeous and warm cunt was the only thing in his mind.

despite wanting to give you an orgasm just like this, he needed more. he needed your cunt strangling him as he chased both your highs.

"can i fuck you? please ... i know you wanna cum like this, but i cant last ... wa– wanna last for you, but you just feel so ... so fucking good."

"please, hoonie. fuck me .."

he hadnt moved faster in his life, discarding his boxers and your shorts in order to prepare himself for you, but suddenly it hit him.

"baby ... c– condom? do you have any?", he had forgotten to buy new ones before you stayed over last night, so he was hoping against all hope that maybe you had some in your discarded bag in the living room.

"no, hoonie, i .. i don't have any," your eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but he could tell you were still lightheaded from the pleasure you had been feeling just a few moments ago.

"oh, i ... i can just dry hump you? yeah, uh, i'll just–", he couldnt help himself in sounding deflated. he wanted your cunt so fucking badly, but had stupidly used his last backup condom last night.

"or ... you can just .."

his head perked up at that, halting before even starting to grind his hips against yours again.

"baby– "

"just go without it, hoonie. i trust you," you gave him a soft smile, holding onto his cheek before pulling him down for a peck.

"oh, i ... fuck. y– you– " his brain was short circuiting. raw? you were going to let him have it raw? oh. oh, fuck.

"baby, please i need you so fucking badly."

he could never say no to you. as per usual, he gave you exactly what you wanted, ignoring how badly this moment would ruin him; corrupt him and smear his brain with thoughts of your unfiltered cunt for years to come.

and ruin him it did, as he immediately lost himself the moment he entered you, groaning at the warmth and wetness coating his cock.

"you're perfect. god, fuck ... you– you're going to ruin me, arent you? you al-already have, shit ... you're my dream ... love you so fucking much, oh fuck ... make me yours and never give me back, i– i need to be yours. need you every day, fuck, please ..." he babbled senselessly as his hips went crazy against yours, drinking in every cry you released and groaning at every scratch of your nails against his back.

he was already close from having dry humped you through his boxers while he made out with you earlier, but now he knew his end was just around the corner. begging you to cum inside was likely out of the question, but his body demanded he at least try, except you somehow beat him to it.

"baby, inside, please! need you to fill me up ... fuck, please ..."

he had no way to respond other than by crying your name against your neck, relishing on the sound of slapping skin as he chased his end inside you with the desperation of a starved man.

with multiple expletives and confessions of love hidden between cries of pleasure, the two of you came one right after the other, kissing each other all throughout your highs.

now jihoon felt nothing but unfiltered bliss. he held you in his arms and caressed your body to the best of his tired ability, continuing to tell you sweet words of affirmation as you did the same in return.

jihoon was more than fine with being obsessed with you if it meant having you all to himself like this. he would gladly get teased about being down horrendously bad for you as long as he had you in the end.

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Day 13: Size Kink w/ Jason Todd

another night of working until 11pm, girl help they making me do work @ my job

if i said i wanted this boy carnally, in a way that was not and never will be biblical, what then

Kinktober Masterlist

There were a lot of upsides to Jason being massive. You never had to climb up on the counters to get things from high up anymore. He was basically a heater that kept the bed a nice, toasty warm that you loved to sink yourself into. His clothes drowned you thanks to his tall height and beefy muscle ratio.

He could also bench press you like it was nothing.

But the best part of Jason being a tank of a human being?

“Fuck,” you whimpered as his tongue lapped at your clit. You grabbed the edge of the doorframe and threw your head back as your legs began to shake. There was no need to worry about falling. Jason had your legs firmly held over his shoulders as he held you up and ate you out against the wall like it was nothing.

It had started in the kitchen like most of your Sunday mornings do. Pretty early on in your relationship, Jason had established that he wanted a time where the two of you weren’t vigilantes or baristas or anything but just the two of you. He loved making breakfast with you, the smell of coffee grounds brewing and eggs frying soaking into the fabric of your apartment. Jason savored these moments of peace and so the two of you ensured that you didn’t have anything to do before noon on Sundays.

And if that routine typically included mind blowing sex, well, tough. Take one look at the walking, talking Adonis that was Jason Todd and try to argue that you wouldn’t climb him like a tree.

“Fuck, Jase!” you whimpered as your orgasm settled and he pulled away from your cunt, his chin slick and shiny with your juices. His tongue darted out to lap up any excess from his chin and he hummed in approval.

“Your fault,” he grunted. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you bent down to grab the dish soap. Wearing no fucking panties like a little slut. You wanted this all morning, didn’t you?”

“You’re easy to convince,” you teased. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, his lips pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your navel, your pussy. Your fingers tightened in his hair and you held on as he stood up straight and carried you into the bedroom. Jason tossed you easily onto the bed and stripped off his shirt and pants.

He wasn’t wearing boxers. Hypocrite.

Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed and planted his hands on either side of your head. He dipped his head down to kiss you, softly and sweetly and so fucking dirty with the taste of you still on his tongue.

“Gonna fucking kill me one of these days,” he whispered against your lips. You smirked, but it fell apart into a soft sigh as he trailed kisses down your jaw, neck, and then to the tops of your breasts.

“You love me,” you huffed out. He raised his head so his chin rested on your stomach and you melted at the look in his eyes. One of your hands came up to cup his cheek and he smiled before kissing your palm.

“I do. I love you a lot, sweetheart.”

And then he enclosed your nipple between his lips and sucked. Your back arched off the bed as you grabbed the back of his head and held him against you, but you knew he could break out of your hold in seconds. He grinned against your sensitive skin and pulled away from your tits so he could move up and kiss you again.

You felt him press against you, thick and long and hard. Jason’s cock was a beauty to behold. It was also the largest dick you had ever taken.

He always worked you up to it with one, two, maybe even three orgasms before he even came close to fucking you. Sometimes you desperately whined and begged for him to just get on with it because you craved the feeling of him filling you. The stretch burned in such an addictive way that you woke up craving him in a way no dildo could satisfy.

“Please,” you whimpered into the kiss.

“Shh, baby, I gotcha. I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay?” His teal eyes held your gaze as he reached down and guided the head of his cock into your waiting hole. Your lips parted in a silent gasp as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You had taken him plenty of times, but it was still always an adjustment at first.

Once seated inside of you, Jason pulled his hand away from where you two met and rested it over your lower stomach. “God, I can feel myself.”

“Fuck, Jason, you can’t just say that and not fuck me,” you groaned.

“Sorry, baby. I don’t want to break you. You’re just so small.” He rolled his hips and you grabbed at his broad shoulders. Your nails dug into his back and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses across your collarbone.

The two of you would stay in bed until at least noon when Jason would carry you to the bathroom, draw you a bath, and you two would discuss your plans and obligations for the week. Then you would get boba, buy groceries for the week, and clean up the apartment.

All with a delicious ache between your legs.

Yeah, Sunday’s were your favorite day of the week.

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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star-stilinski · 10 days

Note

Hiyaaa! I got a request because it’s literally HAS NOT LEFT MY MIND but can we have stiles getting hard over anything reader does wether it’s cause the icecream she’s eating is slowly melting onto her boobs or litch anythinggg aswll, and she finds out and and yk what 😛😛

IF NOT ITS TOTALLLY FINE !!

yet another ask sent in so long ago (sept 2nd)... had to take a break from a dif ask to pop this out because with those pics of dylan in a black suit with the glasses... i need him carnally

absolutely NOT proofread. do i even have to tell you atp? (18+ below the cut!)

THERE IS UNPROTECTED SEX IN THIS FIC. I DO NOT RECCOMEND. IT'S NOT FOR THE HOTNESS ITS BECAUSE THEY AREN'T EXACTLY HAULING A BOX OF RUBBERS TO THEIR FRIEND'S HOUSE OKAY.

☆

at first, stiles didn't even notice it. the way his heart would race and his cheeks would flush; he was used to having that reaction around you. so used to it, in fact, that he had stopped letting it be a distraction. you'd giggle at his joke or look up at him through your lashes and he'd blush, fidget, move on. like his own little routine.

what got distracting was when he had made the sudden realization one day: you're hot.

the two of you had been friends for so long, crushing for almost that whole time, that by the time stiles looked up and saw you in your bikini, it was too late to turn back. he was a goner.

literally-he was out of lydia's backyard and in her half bathroom downstairs before you could even ask him to help with your sunscreen.

holy shit. he gripped the sink, glaring at his flushed reflection. get yourself together, perv. so she's got nice tits. really, really nice tits and thighs that could suffocate you and jesus her hips-

no! nope, no no no nonono. it is way too early for this. get real. she's seen you recite the entire opening crawl of the force awakens. she is not going to do that with you- woah! or that! get it together. get it together. get it together.

and so stiles marches back out where you and your friends are gathered, playing marco polo. you glance at him and smirk in that way the tells him you're totally cheating, only proven true when allison calls out "marco!" and you slide past her in the water without joining in the choruses of "polo!"s from all over the pool.

stiles stiffens. your goddamn smirk.

this is going to be a loooong day.

☆

and it was. a long day that ended in his right hand wrapped around his cock and a fantasy he wouldn't repeat even if there was a gun to his head.

but that was over, and it was three days later, anyway. the pack was meeting at the movies to see a new romcom, which the girls were excited for, and the guys were... hoping it had a good soundtrack. it's not that they didn't want to go, it's just that their time- well, stiles' time could be better spent on things like useless research and avoiding his homework. that was his mindset walking into the theater.

now, he's about three inches from having no mindset at all. you're sat next to him, too close for him to remember a single detail of the movie, and you're wearing a tank top. low cut. lace trim on the top. prettiest color he's ever seen.

and stiles can see straight down it.

every time he glances over at you, whether it be an excuse of reaching for the popcorn or making a joke or listening to you talk, he has a view down your top right to where your tits are pressed together, rising and falling subtly with each breath. he wonders what the smooth skin of your breasts would look like covered in hickeys. he imagines the sounds you'd make if he had you pinned down, mouth enveloping your pert nipples. he-

he gets up a little too hastily when he rushes out of the theater, into the quiet hall.

"god," he mumbles, tugging his own hair. "fuck."

he has to will his blood to cooperate before he can show his face again.

☆

it's getting worse.

stiles is chewing on the cap of the marker he has in his hand, eyes darting all over his murder board.

"wouldn't they hunt in packs? this fable here, it reads... stiles?"

stiles turns on his heel, watching you now as you sit on his bed. he's been avoiding looking at you lately, since just recently he had a close call when you hit your knee on scott's coffee table and whined a dramatic 'ahh', leaving stiles to imagine that noise, that face you made in other scenarios.

it's been harder (ha, ha, yeah, no pun intended. he's struggling.) when you asked to come over and help with some research he was doing after a meeting with deaton. you sat all pretty and focused on his bed, twirling and tucking and sometimes tugging your hair when you read out of a book he had borrowed (stolen) from the argent's.

so when he looked at you now, it was with great mental strength. especially when you started rattling off a really smart point he didn't think anyone else would notice that he had realized twenty minutes ago, giving him some time to zone out and watch as you gather your hair behind you, tying it up in a ponytail while you look up at him through your lashes. giving him a second to imagine you looking at him like that with your lips wrapped around his cock, letting him guide you by the ponytail-

stilinski! great. mental. strength.

he turns back to the murder board and nods, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the familiar heat spread all over and his jeans get tight. "yeah, that's- i know, that's a good point."

he hears you shift, the way you get noticeably quiet. "stiles, are you... is everything alright? you seem off."

he shrugs, nods, shrugs again. swallows. "yeah. just a bit tired, that's all."

he can feel your disbelief, but he'd rather feel that then disgust. you both sigh at the same time, and the evening moves on.

☆

it's pretty much every time he sees you now. he's a mess, unable to choose between relieving himself and willing his dick to cooperate. you've made a mess of stiles, and he's dying.

you're wearing leggings today, talking to scott while stiles watches from the bench. coach is barking orders at a couple of stray lacrosse boys, and stiles is lucky enough to have dodged his attention this evening.

game night is usually when he's free of the hold you have on him, too busy gnawing on his goalie gloves and tracking scott across the field. but you and allison showed up early (curse scott and his happy relationship), so his pea-sized brain has time to imagine sliding the buttery fabric down your legs, kissing exposed skin as he goes. he'd definitely pay close attention to your thighs- he thinks about those more than he'd care to admit, and he's aware of how idiotically insecure of them you are.

because of his train of thought, he doesn't realize you've caught him staring until it's too late. you're prancing over excitedly and leaving scott to smirk at stiles all knowingly, and stiles resists the urge to flip him off.

"you gonna play, 24?" you nudge his foot teasingly with your own. he looks up at you and feels those telltale signs as he mentally traces the line of your jaw with his finger, both of you panting softly as he coos at you while you whine pathetically. he has to blink away the thought before he can speak.

"um, i hope not. it's an important game." he leans back a bit and you tilt your head, clearly mulling over your next words. he fills the space in the meantime. "but if i do, i'll be sure to keep away from the ball."

it's music to his ears when you laugh. finally, finally he's blushing about something normal, having regular fantasies instead of these hormone fueled pornos that seem to be on repeat in his head lately. he smiles up at you and you take a small step closer to being in between his legs.

"i don't mean to bring it up so randomly..." you avoid his eyes, fiddling with your hands. "but i was just wondering if i've done something to upset you?"

he blinks. "what?"

"it's just that you've been distant and honestly, you're acting kind of like you're allergic to me. if i did something or there's something going on just tell me. it's kinda driving me crazy." you ramble, brows drawn together in discomfort.

stiles' eyes widen and he shakes his head, standing. his heart skips a beat when you have to tilt your chin up a bit to keep his eyes. "no, of course not. i didn't know... i guess i've... it's just-" he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. how is he supposed to explain this? 'oh, hey, girl i've been super into for a pathetically long time, i've been imagining what you'd look like if i pinned you to my bed and drove us both insane from a sex marathon! that's cool, right? not objectifying at all!'

you frown, crossing your arms. "just tired?"

it's bait, he knows it is. the same excuse he used less than a week ago to keep you from figuring him out. you're a clever girl and he's stupid when he's horny, so he has to play his cards right here. if you think he's lying, things will only get worse and there's a hefty chance you'll distance yourself. but if he tells a lie a little too well, you're going to be around him constantly again. either way, he's starting to wonder if he's a masochist from the amount of pain he's going to inflict on himself.

"it's nothing, really. i didn't mean to get distant." he clenches his jaw as he gauges your reaction, which is a less-than-ideal-but-not-terrible pout. he wants to smooth the lines of your forehead with his thumb and make you laugh again, but he has to focus. "let me make it up to you?"

you turn your face away (very, very not good) and huff. "no, don't worry about it."

stiles cringes internally and bites the inside of his cheek. how can he un-dig this hole he's in? "no, no, i want to. i shouldn't have made you worry. that's my fault. i'll pick you up tomorrow, we can get food. my treat."

you turn back to face him, and the way your bottom lip just barely juts out tells him you're playing it up, but he doesn't mind. he's come to realize that you like to feel earned, and he's more than happy to earn you. he takes a breath, eyebrows raised. "what are you thinking?"

you drop the pout (much to his relief, he was just starting to imagine you using that face on him when he makes you tell him exactly what you want him to do to you) and put your hands on your (perfect, sexy) hips. "i'm thinking that if you didn't mean to get distant then it was subconscious, and it's going to be more of an effort to be around me than not."

so clever. god, you're so hot when you use critical thinking skills.

stiles sighs and shuffles a bit. "yeah, okay, i can understand where you're getting that but it's wrong-"

"but it isn't. you've been proving it right all week and-"

"hold on, no i haven't, i've just been-"

"-you definetly lied to me in your room a few days ago-"

"-there's no way you're actually believing-"

"STILINSKI!" coach's voice booms over both of you, halting the beginning of an argument that probably would have only turned stiles on more. he whips his head around to where the entire team is gathered, and realizes he was so wrapped up in you that he tuned out everything around him, including the team rallying together to talk strategy before the game started. he blinks, distantly hearing you mumble a mortified "oh." and skitter off, leaving stiles to be completely embarrassed alone.

"would you like to join us or are you too busy harassing the young ladies in the general area?" coach's tone is strung with impatience, eyes wide.

"ah..." stiles glances to the spot you just stood in and then back to the team. "no, coach, 'm coming."

"fantastic." he drawls, before turning back to the team and continuing his rant. stiles is half-listening, half-daydreaming about 'making it up to you' in many different ways, positions, and places. for many hours.

yeah, he's dead. for sure. you're killing him.

☆

although making it up to you currently involved a lot more clothing and a lot less begging, stiles was having a really good time. sat in his room, arguing about book to movie adaptations, both of you holding your own milkshakes. with all his time spent avoiding you out of... sex-driven fear? he really forgot how much he enjoyed your company.

"you wouldn't get it," you shake your head stubbornly as he stands and sets his milkshake on his desk so he can use the dry erase board in his room. "you don't read books."

"i do-"

"yeah, i don't count the bestiary."

"that's besides the point, anyway. i don't have to read the book to know whether the movie is a good adaptation or not!" he starts writing down movies he knows are heavily based off of books while you crawl across his floor to his desk, sneaking a spoonful of vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. he's too busy to notice that the half-melted treat dribbles off of the spoon and spills above the cut of your tank top (the same one as the movie theater, actually) and onto your exposed thighs.

"fuck." you hiss under your breath. stiles turns to see what caused your quiet outburst, but his brain screeches to a halt at the sight of you.

perched on your knees, you're glaring down at the mess that's been spilled on the top of your tits and thighs, white sliding down to the line where they're pressed together. stiles doesn't even blink, just stares with a slightly open mouth at the sight of you. a small noise leaves his mouth and he can feel the tent in his sweats, but he's a bit frozen.

you look up when he makes the strangled grunt, looking caught with his milkshake in your hand, as if that's his issue right now. "uhh... whoops? i swear, it just flew into my hand! how crazy is that...."

your joke trails off as you really see his face. his eyes are dark and hungry, almost predatory as they sweep over your body, hanging on the spills that you made. his mouth shuts and his jaw clenches. his hands are curled into restrained, white-knuckled fists. and...

he's hard as a fucking rock.

it's easy to tell, with his grey sweatpants, and you feel your mouth water at the sight.

"it's fine." he mumbles, voice dry. you take a second before you realize he's talking about the milkshake. both of you are bright red. you force out a breath and he seems to come to, turning back around quickly. "uh, s-so, harry potter-"

"is that because of me?" you blurt, getting hotter in the cheeks every second.

"is... oh. um, i'm sorry, sorry, fucking hell-" he's not facing you.

"stiles."

stiles quiets, turning to face you finally. your stomach swoops and you shuffle barely closer. his adams apple bobs.

"yeah. it... it is"

that's it. a simple confession, but it feels like a chord being snapped between the two of you. your confidence grows. you made stiles like that.

"are you gonna do something about it?"

his head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at you. "you want me to?"

"why else would i ask, stiles?" you sound almost exasperated, like he's taking to long. he swallows and drops to his knees in front of you.

stiles. is crawling towards you. on his knees.

"are you... do you really?" he's close, so close now. looking into your eyes like they'll answer for you. like they contain every 'yes' you've been too scared to whisper.

which, honestly, is probably not far from true.

"i do. i really, really, d-"

his lips are on yours before you can finish, one hand cupping the back of your neck to bring you closer. you let out a muffled noise of surprise, mouth opening on it's own accord as stiles takes the kiss deeper, tongue exploring your mouth hotly.

"you're impossible-" stiles gasps, going in for more before he can finish. "-to be around-" his teeth nip your bottom lip. "-when i can't have you."

his lips leave a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth, so passionate that he misses, and he continues that trail onto your neck until he finds the spot that makes you squirm. his hands go to your waist, pulling you closer and knocking your knees together. you feel dizzy with want, barely registering his words.

"what-" you gasp, blinking and leaning into his demanding mouth. "what is that supposed to mean?"

stiles groans against the skin of your neck, kissing lower, closer to the sticky mess you made just minutes ago. "i can't think... can't even... fuckin'... breathe when you're near, look so pretty. j'st wanna make you-"

he interrupts himself again, opting instead to lick the ice cream off the top of your tits like he's starving. you gasp as the feel of his tongue against your skin, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the sudden pressure shooting down your stomach to your core. he's barely making sense and he still has you all foggy brained, swaying just a bit under his touch.

"you-you've thought about this? befo- oh-" you stumble, as he tugs lightly against the low cut to give himself better access to the sweetness melted onto your skin. he laughs, seeming to clear up a bit.

"yeah. you kidding me? i've basically been-" he's kissing back up your neck now, seeming to track a path to your lips. "-perpetually hard for the past three weeks."

you swallow thickly and he captures your lips. stiles tastes like vanilla ice cream and it's the most tempting sin, luring you over the edge. enticing you to do things you'd normally pretend you weren't into. he runs a hand down the side of your body, squeezing your hip lightly. "you're torture, you know that?"

"i could say the same to you."

he smiles at you, like a sap, like a saint. you feel your mind fall into his hands and your heart nestle against his ribcage. you no longer belong to yourself. you never have. and neither does he, it seems, as his eyes wander all over you.

"wanna move to the bed? i can clean up your thighs..." his tone is low, clearly suggestive in a bad-pickup-line way. you nod, giggling girlishly and stiles hauls you up to gently lay you back on his bed, tugging your tank top off on the way. his eyes linger on your chest before moving along, kissing a wet trail down your body as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. "god, look at you. you're gorgeous."

it's not like you're wearing lingerie and sexy makeup- you went to stiles' place to lounge, so you're wearing your lounge bra and some comfy shorts. stiles looks at you, though, as if you invented beauty. he sighs contentedly as he pulls your bottoms off slowly, eyes drinking in your stomach and hips and thighs like you're the first woman to have them. once he's got them far off enough, his hands press your hips back down and his eyes meet yours.

"not to late to back out. well- obviously it's never too late, it's just... okay, this is me asking for consent. i was trying to make it sexy, but it sounded a bit rapey."

you laugh breathlessly and nod at him where he stands, towering above your almost-naked form. "stiles, please stop talking and fulfill both of our fantasies already."

stiles grins and tugs his shirt halfway off before stopping abruptly. "wait, both?"

you roll your eyes. "stiles, why would i be so... so..."

"obedient?" he offers with a cocky smirk. you flush.

"agreeable, if i didn't want this?" you nibble your lip as he pulls his shirt the rest of the way off his body, getting on his knees at the edge of the bed and spreading your legs. your body moves pliantly under his hands. the sight of it all is downright promiscuous.

"well," stiles presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. it would be sweet if not for the sinful way his eyes are preoccupied with the wet spot on your panties. "i heard girls find consent sexy. maybe i screwed that one up a bit. what do you think is sexy?"

he asks in that absent tone that tells you he's storing away information as he kisses further up the inside of your thighs more fervently. you let out a breath that feels too shaky too early and watch as his pink tongue swipes out to lick up some ice cream spill. it makes you clench around nothing.

"any day now." his hand is gently rubbing your thigh as he moves to lick and suck almost crudely at your other thigh.

your eyes narrow slightly. "gimme a second."

he gets closer to where you're literally soaked for him, nibbling lightly at the plush flesh of your inner thigh. you shove down a low whine of impatience to avoid your already growing embarrassment.

"your attention to foreplay is- i like it." you admit softly and he hums, licking a stripe of ice cream out of the way. taking a second to think, you continue. "i like the... the desperation. how you took me without really... um... i like it when you just do what you want, i mean."

it's difficult to form a single thought once stiles presses a kiss against your clothed clit, being sure to add plenty of pressure. almost like a reward. "what if you don't like what i want? will you tell me to stop?"

you nod, chest rising and falling heavily with every breath. you glance down at stiles, and a small sound leaves your lips when your eyes catch his hand down his sweats, slowly stroking himself. he flushes.

"you.... can't i help?"

he lets out a small moan and his eyes flutter as he halts his movements. "i don't- i don't have a condom."

against all better judgement, you shake your head and thread your fingers through his messy hair. "it's okay. just pull out, yeah?"

his brows shoot up, and you wonder for a moment if he's about to cum in his pants. but then he nods and rises, standing in between your legs now. his fingers deftly tug off your panties, pocketing them in his sweats (for safe keeping...) and his lips part silently once you're exposed to him.

your legs begin to close, feeling suddenly too naked and too insecure for his hungry eyes, but his hands catch your knees easily, even giving you a little tap as a sign to scoot further onto the bed.

before you comply, curiosity takes over and you tug at the strings on his sweatpants. "wait, what about you?"

he tilts his head. "what about me?"

you narrow your eyes, fingers dipping under the band. "can i take these off?"

"oh!" his brows shoot up, as if he forgot about himself altogether. "oh, yeah, of course. please."

you waste no time pulling his bottoms off, his cock springing out. it's flushed and leaking, looking properly erotic in the dim lighting of his room. your eyes flutter up to meet his and you wrap your hands around him, pumping twice.

stiles moans, hips twitching into your hands on their own accord. "holy shit."

part of you just wants to finish him that way, positively fucking hooked on the look he has, pleasure pinching his pretty face all tight. he pants and pulls your hands away, eyes squeezing shut for just a moment. "y're gonna make me cum, holy shit."

"i'm sorry, you just..." you fluster, laughing a tad at the both of you. he shakes his head, though, so you fall silent and let him crawl over top of you, kissing you deeply. he unhooks your bra with a bit of struggle and you both have to cooperate to get it off of your body.

"don't be sorry, i've imagined that so many times it should be criminal." he kisses you again and you feel his fingers graze along your stomach. stiles pulls back far enough to see your whole face and you wonder why- then his thumb is circling your clit.

the high-pitched gasp you suck in is not as embarrassing as the louder whine that leaves your lips once he's slid a finger into you, eyes closing for a moment to soak in the bliss. it feels like heaven, for a long moment. but his fingers are slow. too slow. and even when you cant your hips, he doesn't speed up enough to have you seeing stars (like you know he can). instead, he has you writhing impatiently. "you're... stiles, please."

it's whiney and pathetic, but stiles seems to stifle a smirk when he hears it, covering it with a sympathetic pout instead. "i know, pretty girl, i know. you gonna ask nicely?"

and you knew you gave him permission to do whatever he wanted. but you didn't expect to be into it. your lips part and you almost tell him to shut up and fuck you already. but you're hot with embarrassment and something else he can totally feel when your walls clench around his torturous fingers. so instead, you opt for falling right into his hands.

"please, stiles, fuck me already." you whisper, lips brushing against his when you speak. "please."

"there we go." he presses a peck to your lips and slips his fingers out. "such a good girl."

you aren't given any time to process that and the fact that it made you throb like a personal whore- stiles is already swiping his tip through your folds, making you gasp when it catches on your clit. he's panting heavily as he lines himself up, and you're a little surprised when he finds your hand and laces his own against it.

then, he's stretching you open and you're seeing stars, just like you knew he could make you do.

stiles is sweet, but he's not exactly gentle. hips rolling into you and his tongue pressing against your own. a hand pinning you to the bed and keeping him upright, the other tweaking your nipples or teasing your clit. he's all over you, pulling back every once in awhile to watch the way you arch your back and gasp out unintelligible pleas. his moans are about as pathetic as yours and he hisses "fuck" into your ear when you clench around him tightly. your dance goes on like this for a moment, and he's rambling praises constantly.

"stiles, 'm close-" you whimper, free hand pulling him closer by the hair. he gasps out and his hips snap roughly.

"yeah, me too. jesus, you're so perfect. look at you." he pushes some of your hair out of the way, eyes meeting yours. "you gonna cum for me?"

you nod, eyebrows turning up as you feel the warmth crawl up your belly. your free hand tugs at his mussed up hair again and his expression matches yours. he speeds up and you gasp and whimper, pliant under his body as he fucks you into his mattress.

"stiles, fuck, stiles, i'm-"

"that's it, there you go, holy fuck." he holds your hips down when you finish, rutting into you with an open mouth. he's got his forehead pressed against your own, swallowing each others desperate moans as he rides you through your orgasm. stiles' moan is sudden and loud when he pulls out in a rush and finishes on your cunt, his tip pressing into your overstimulated clit and making your legs twitch.

you gasp out a breath and sink into the mattress, sighing contentedly. when your eyes flutter open on heavy lids, stiles is gazing at you. he leans down and kisses you, soft and sweet and full of a confession long coming.

"that was..."

"amazing." he finishes dazedly, hands running over your bare skin anywhere he can reach. "want me to use my mouth?"

your brows raise. "stiles, i just came."

"i know." he sighs, playing with some of your hair. "it was so fucking hot."

"you said you've been perpetually hard for three weeks?" you attempt to change the subject, but stiles only grins wider.

"yeah, so i've got plenty more fantasies to play out before i'm out of steam."

you shove him lightly, fighting a flustered smile. "just- give me a second, you dog!"

"awooooo." stiles deadpans an imitation of a howl, nuzzling into your neck. "let me know when you're ready. i'll just be here. naked. on top of you. in the mood to make you pass out from orgasms. willing to learn every kink you have- which, hey, the praise kink was a good guess, right?"

you groan, pushing him off of you. your face is flushed red and you snatch his nearby discarded t-shirt when you sit up. "that was so out of left field."

"yeah, but was it? i mean, you-"

"i'm getting in the shower, stiles." you stand and take a few steps away from him before you turn to gauge his reaction.

his eyebrows shoot up from where he sits on the bed. it makes you bright fucking red when his eyes trail down and he watches a bead of his own cum slide down your inner thigh. he licks his lips.

"i'll come with."

☆

once again, not totally happy with it. but, like, eh. i'm getting to that time of night where my brain is just like 'PUT THE COMPUTER AWAY AND STOP THINKING ABOUT THE WHITE MAN. YOU ARE RUNNING ON FOUR HOURS OF SLEEP.'

anyway, sorry i may or may not have slipped in some personal tastes. i usually try to keep my smut open to anyone into anything, but this was laced with my own ideas.......... whoops. i'm sorry it was so rushed near the end, too!

i promise i'm trying to get around to some lovely lovely asks. don't be shy, pop into my inbox to drop a thought, comment, critique (be nice, i'm sensitive) (actually if you're a stranger idrc) or say hello! love you all!

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #teen wolf #stiles stilinksi imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #stiles x reader #star writes #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #void stiles #void stiles x reader #dylan obrien #dylan o'brian imagine

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gumbootillustrations · 1 month

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divine warriors loredump!

so yeah, the divine warriors! admittedly, i'm fascinated by them - i rlly rlly wish that we'd gotten to see more of them + their powers/domains/abilities in mcd, especially considering that they're a driving force behind the plot. so, i've gone ahead and done some redesigns for the sigils (above) and expanded on the domains and abilities of the divine warriors within the context of ashes, ashes.

more under the cut!

irene retains her matron title. for her domains, i rlly wanted to lean into her being a deity of life and family; as such, her official domains are life, light, healing, childbirth and parenthood, fertility, marriage, tradition, beauty, and romantic/familial/platonic love. menphia also has domains over aspects of love (namely over sexual/carnal/manic love), but i wanted them to sort of have an aphrodite ourania (irene) and aphrodite pandemos (menphia) sort of vibe. in terms of the abilites that her relic gives its wielders, its a lot of what's seen in canon mcd: lots of healing and light abilities, but also some dimensional manipulation and time manipulation stuff thrown in there for the shits and giggles.

for shad, i rlly wanted to play into him being both a mirror and a foil for irene. where irene creates, he destroys; where irene brings life, he brings death. his official domains are that of death, darkness, chaos, the afterlife, change, rot and decay, the Nether, bloodshed, and madness. although he's also a war deity like menphia (and, to an extent, esmund and xavier), he's mostly associated with the worst bits of battle - the blood, the rot, the awful awful deaths, that sort of thing. his relic grants its wielders a lot of destruction-associated powers like disintegration and rot/plague/death stuff, but also some shadow and blood manipulation as well.

like a lot of other folks, i felt like enki was the best fit for a knowledge deity. he looks after scholars, librarians, witches, and inventors; officially, his domains are those of knowledge, air, magick, prophecy, the weather, winter, reason, and lightning. from here, you'll start to see pretty much all the warriors having some sort of like. elemental association? is the best way i can put it. i've sort of based it off of the minor arcana of the tarot; the suit of swords, which is associated with air, is the suit of knowledge and the mental realm, which i thought was fitting for enki. enki is also one of the four seasonal divine warriors (the others being esmund, menphia, and kul'zak); he gets winter, mostly because of his centre of worship being in gal'ruk. wielders of his relic get air and weather manipulation powers, as well as powers related to memory and access to witchcraft (if they aren't witches already). they also gain clairvoyance.

esmund! again with the tarot symbolism; esmund is associated with the element of earth and the physical world, hence the mountain in his sigil. his domains are those of protection, earth, wealth, autumn, boundaries, earthquakes, guardhood, and the harvest. the domain over the harvest might seem a little left field but it makes sense i promise! i sort of saw esmund's association with the harvest not only being because of him being an earth deity, but also because i feel like being able to provide is a form of protection, and given the setting of mcd, i feel like being able to provide a good harvest is a part of that. this is also why he is associated with autumn. regarding the abilities that his relic provides, there's a lot of earth manipulation and barrier/force field creation stuff in there; his relic wielders are also freakishly stronger and more durable than those who wield other relics, sort of playing into esmund himself being a tank.

i changed menphia's title to 'the conqueror' because i thought it'd be a bit more fitting for her, especially considering how i'm working tu'la in ashes, ashes (more on that later). i also changed her colour scheme to more of a blue/copper theme despite her being a fire goddess - i thought it was neat, considering that blue flames are those that burn the hottest. her domains are those of warfare (the glorious bits), fire, soldiers, political power, summer, passion and courage, festivals and celebrations, and sexual/carnal/manic love. i'm still not suuuper sure on the abilities that her relic gives its wielders, but there's definitely some pyrokinesis and emotion/heat manipulation, along with some combat-specific foresight in there. i'm open to suggestions!

nothing much really changes regarding kul'zak. he's a nature deity and watches over journeymen and particularly sailors, given that he's a water/ocean deity; he's often worshipped by pirates. officially, his domains are travellers, water, animals, the wilderness, the cardinal directions and navigation, hunting, and spring. i really wanted to lean into him being a man of the wilderness and not really having a home in urban environments. as such, his relic grants its wielders a lot of wilderness-based abilities, like shapeshifting, water and plant manipulation, and camouflage, with a bit of teleportation in there for all your wandering needs.

xavier is probably the divine warrior that i've changed the most. first off, he becomes a divine warrior in ashes, ashes where he isn't in canon mcd. i also really wanted to lean into him being the founder of the jury of nine, hence his title - the justiciar. he's associated with the domains of guardhood (along with esmund), loyalty, metal and metalworkers, justice, balance and order, peace, brotherhood, devotion, and artisans. where esmund looks after the more physical side of being a guard (being your lord's shield and spear, aka the protection side of things), xavier looks after the more emotional side of being a guard - the devotion to your lord and the comradery that you share with your fellows. his relic's abilities capitalise on that, with its wielders being able to both amplify and nullify the magick of the people they're fighting alongside/against. there's also a bit of metal manipulation and a lot of supportive magick in there too.

and, as a fun little tidbit - a lineup of the divine warriors! (the layout is inspired by @star-boi0720 - the way you lay out your drawings like this is mint as 🤩)

i'm still not suuuper happy w kul'zak or irene's designs but i'll get there in the end i guess :)

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hvlcy0n · 2 months

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TEMPTRESS . . . toma hiragi x fem! reader

+ you think that having a small chest isn’t attractive. hiragi thinks that’s fucking ridiculous.

+ 5.7k words

+ NSFW (MDNI) // UNEDITED //oblivious reader // reader is written to be a B cup or smaller // intentional pov switching // tit play at the very end // you’re on this man’s last nerve // mentions of insecurity/self-consciousness // themes of noncon if you squint // mean!hiragi

+ yes i remember the poll i know BUT!! BUT BUT BUT i suddenly got the motivation to finish this one. it was supposed to be 1k words for hiragi and 1k for sugishita but yeah. i still haven’t gotten to sugishita yet, but it will be nowhere NEAR as long.

you’re doing this on purpose. you have to be.

beads of sweat dapple hiragi’s hairline as he sits rigidly at your kitchen counter, doing his best to occupy himself by thumbing through a recipe book you’d abandoned on the counter after your second failed attempt at baking some confectionery he’s never even heard of. the marble surface is cold against his skin as he hunches over the book in feigned interest, but it does very little to quell the heat running rampant through his body. he can spot your figure moving about in his peripheral vision, and he has to wrestle with the urge to sneak a glance at you.

something that he’s learned about you after becoming a frequent presence in your home is your newly developed habit of parading around your apartment in some of the smallest or most revealing tops he’s ever seen in his life—dainty bandeau–style tops that either cover the bare minimum or are adorned with a curtain of sheer fabric that baits him with flirtatious glimpses of your soft stomach as you move about; flimsy, little camisoles that seem more than fucking thrilled to show off the contour of your nipples and areolas; even tiny tops that appear to be nothing more than thin, delicate triangles of fabric bound together by a loose bow resting between your breasts that could be undone by a tug of his fingers.

you’re completely casual about it as well, shamelessly flaunting your new purchases and excitedly showing off to him as if the sight doesn’t leave his cock swelling with desire and straining against his jeans. he does his best to be a gentleman and prevent his eyes from lingering on your chest, only allowing them to briefly roam your figure when you ask for his opinion on the newest addition to your closet.

it seems as though every time he crosses the threshold into your apartment is a renewed clash between his wish to treat you with reverence and the flame of carnality you never fail to stoke, and it’s all he can do to remain respectful. you just make it so fucking difficult. how can he be expected to remain composed when you so brazenly seek his attention and have no problem cozying up to him dressed like that?

he recalls the first time he’d showed up to your place to find you clad in a loose–fitting, baby–blue tank top with a neckline that plunged so low that it was a miracle he didn’t catch a glimpse of your areolas. you had seemed perplexed when scarlet flooded his cheeks and he was rendered speechless, only to then grin when he awkwardly asked you if you were hot and wanted him to turn up the air conditioning. he was stunned when you dismissed his concerns with an airy wave of your hand and laughed that you didn’t think anything of it.

and truthfully, you didn’t.

it wasn’t that you were necessarily insecure about the size of your chest--at least, that's what you told yourself. you didn't like to think too hard about it. but what you could say for certain was that you didn’t believe it would ever be viewed as a catalyst for desire or as anything more than “cute” at best. the idea that men preferred large breasts had been hammered into your brain for as long as you can remember, but you had reached a point of utter exhaustion where you figured that the right person for you surely wouldn’t be deterred by something as trivial as that.

so, with that in mind, you decided to indulge the skimpier styles that your insecurities deprived you of, and you ended up wearing them around your apartment to grow accustomed to them. so what if you didn’t have the biggest tits on the block? the clothes were too cute to pass up. plus, you could get away without wearing a bra most of the time, so why not?

you definitely didn’t think that hiragi would think twice about it, either. in your eyes, he never expressed a particular interest in your breasts, so you figured that it would be alright to continue dressing however you wanted around him. surely he wouldn’t mind if you went without a bra or if your tops covered only the bare minimum, right?

wrong.

in fact, if it were up to hiragi, your chest and collarbones would be littered with hickeys. the only reason he’s refrained and kept his attention off your chest thus far is because he feared making you uncomfortable or frightening you off with his fervor. the way his large hand could completely engulf your breast alone was enough to cause saliva to pool on the cusp of his tongue, so he was less inclined to discover what would happen to his brain and you if he indulged himself.

it frustrated him. you seemed so unabashed, so certain that you could do whatever you wanted and that it would be a cold day in hell before he ravaged you. after all, you knew that at the core of his magisterial and somewhat jagged exterior existed a heart of gold and an unwavering desire to protect those he cared about. he was a natural-born leader, a protector. but, in unearthing such passion and being granted glimpses into the softer parts of his soul, it often slipped your mind that the influence of his exterior was still very much present. you’re none the wiser to his desires to hold you accountable, to make you just as flustered as you’ve made him.

“hey,” hiragi hums in surprise when you appear beside him, neck craning to take a peek at the contents of the page he absent–mindedly flipped to. “what are you looking at?”

momentarily forgetting his internal debate, he turns his head to acknowledge you, only for his eyes to subconsciously flick downward at the sight of exposed skin in his peripheral vision. he had forgotten that about two hours ago, you’d caved beneath the summer humidity and stripped off your oversized tee, leaving your torso bare aside from what you’d eagerly explained to be a “bralette.”

according to you, it served the same purpose as a bra; it just looked nicer. this one in particular is fashioned out of transparent, baby–pink lace and embellished with delicate floral patterns, the fabric plunging into a softly curved v-shape that converges at the middle of your sternum.

pretty.

he inhales sharply, ears flushing, when he notices that the petal designs adorning your chest do almost nothing to conceal you. despite the color of the material, your areolas are plainly visible, causing a zing to rocket up his spine. his grip on the book tightens until his knuckles blanch.

your brows furrow with concern when he doesn’t respond. “you okay?” you casually clasp your hands behind your back, consequently pushing your chest outward. he immediately tears his gaze away.

goddamnit. “uh, yeah. ‘m fine.” his tone is a bit more curt than he’d intended it to be. “just reading.”

“yeah?” you smile. “i never pegged you for a history guy, but i think the history of the blueberry muffin is pretty fascinating, too.”

“huh?” his eyes finally focus on the paragraph before him, and he winces when he realizes that he’s been “engrossed” in a story about sacks of flour and ripe blueberries being hoisted over mountains. “oh . . . yeah. pretty cool, huh?”

at first, he expects you to tease him for his perceived interest, but you’ve already reverted back to your worrisome expression and are now searching his face with troubled eyes. “you sure you’re alright? you look a little flushed. you might have a fever.”

“no, i—”

heat flares in his cheeks when you step closer—close enough for your chest to graze his bicep—and press the back of your hand to his forehead. “yeah, you feel a little warm.”

“i’m not sick!” he barks, succumbing to his vexation for a split second. you sharply withdraw your hand at the aggression sharpening his tone, and a thorn of guilt twists deep into his gut. he exhales deeply, raking his fingers through his soft, unstyled locks. “sorry,” he mutters. “it’s just . . . look, i don’t have a fever or anything, ‘kay? i didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

“then, what’s up?” the softening of his voice emboldens you to gently place your hand on his back and rub small circles over the cotton material of his sweatshirt. “is something else bothering you?”

is something else bothering him? he blinks, incredulous, at the innocuous twinkle in your eye. do you really not know? how could you not think anything of walking around for the past hour donning sheer fabric that shows him everything? he can’t fathom you behaving so boldly without at least possessing some sort of awareness.

he raises a brow. “you bein’ serious?”

you stare, taken aback, and your hand slows to a halt. “huh? yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

he can’t tell what has him further suspended in disbelief—the fact that you genuinely don’t understand or the fact that you have the gall to then proceed to adjust one of the straps on your bralette without breaking eye contact. his mind insists that you have to be fucking with him, but the earnest perplexity in your gaze argues otherwise. this makes zero sense to him. surely, you can’t believe that he should be indifferent to something like this. there’s no way. you should know better than that. he idly taps the fingertip of his index finger against the counter. but, if that’s not the case, then . . .

he needs to figure this out. “you, uh . . .” he’s reluctant, uncertain as to how to phrase his dilemma or how he’s even supposed to approach the issue to begin with. he offers a small nod toward your chest, but he keeps his eyes firmly planted on the space beside you. “it’s not necessarily botherin’ me, it’s just that your . . .” he mumbles. “is it s’posed to be see–through?”

“what?” you tilt your head slightly, only for your eyes to pop open in realization. “oh! you mean this?” you pinch the lace hem between your fingers. “it didn’t come with an extra layer, so i guess so. sorry. it’s supposed to go under clothes, but it’s just you here. plus, there’s not much of anything there, so whatever.”

a small, apologetic smile punctuates your final statement, but it hardly registers in his brain. rather, his brows are knit together in confusion, and he stares blankly as you nonchalantly shift your attention to something across the room. “huh? what’s that matter?”

“huh? what do you mean?” your eyes flicker back to his.

his lips part, but he remains silent, his jumbled thoughts tangling around his tongue as he processes your words. everything finally clicks into place, a wave of clarity sweeping away the stains of bewilderment obscuring his understanding of the situation. do you think . . ? certainly not. certainly, you aren’t insinuating that you anticipated indifference simply because of the size of your chest. that would be ridiculous.

but, he has to be positive.

after a beat of silence, he inhales deeply. “lemme ask you something,” he slides off the stool to stand before you. “what was goin’ through your mind an hour ago when you had the bright idea to strip?” he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders slowly rolling back to acquire that extra inch that brings him to his full height.

“uh . . .” your eyes widen a fraction of an inch at his close proximity. “i don’t know what you mean, toma. i was just too hot. i wasn’t really—”

“you were.” he insists. he removes a hand from his pocket to lightly tap a finger against your forehead. “don’t lie to me. you’ve always got something goin’ on up in that head of yours.”

“no, it really wasn’t anything important!” you insist. “i just—” you hesitate, a shadow of hesitation crossing your features. “i know that guys don’t think anything of small boobs, so i thought it would be fine! i thought you would just see it as like, y’know . . . just as whatever. that’s literally it. that’s all i was thinking!”

you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“so,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “lemme get this straight. you think that just ‘cause you don’t have big tits means that i wouldn’t care about you prancin’ around wearin’ shit like that?”

you flinch, and he regrets not having selected his words more meticulously. but, before he can backpedal and correct his mistake, you avert your eyes and fold your arms petulantly over your chest. “well, if you say it like that . . .” you mumble, “then it sounds bad.”

“well, then you’re really not gonna like what i have to say next.” he crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “thinkin’ that guys don’t care about their girl walkin’ around half–naked is about as stupid as firing a gun straight up and expecting the bullet not to come back down. i dunno what kinda guys you’ve been talkin’ to, but something like . . . that doesn’t matter.”

“have you seen literally any piece of media or met any other man? it does—”

“no, it doesn’t,” he grunts. “look,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i’ll be honest. i wasn’t readin’ shit out of that book. i was only pretending so i didn’t keep starin’ at you and make you uncomfortable, ‘cause i thought you knew that any man with a shred of common sense would have a damn field day with you wandering around like that.” he kisses his teeth. “doesn’t matter if you’ve got the biggest tits in the world or the smallest. any guy that wouldn’t look twice at you when you’re this pretty and dressed like that has to be out of his damn mind, and i gotta say . . .” he allows his gaze to roam for a moment, catching the stutter of your chest as you listen to him speak, “i’m disappointed you think that low of me.”

this time, you don’t have a retort already rolling around in your brain. it’s as if his words have wiped it blank and scattered your thoughts, leaving you to stare at him in what can only be described as sheer wonder. for a moment, hiragi’s shoulders relax, believing that he’d managed to get through to you. but, almost as soon as he dares to exhale, the corners of your lips twitch upward, and your laughter splits the air.

“aw, toma,” his eyes round when they search yours and find nothing more than twinkling mirth and mischief. your arms unfold to swing playfully down to your sides. he stiffens, head retracting slightly when you lean in with a jocose grin.

you’re close—close enough for there to only be a hairsbreadth of an inch between your bodies. a shadow of molten lust seeps into his emerald irises, melting them down into muted, viridescent pools lit only by the smoldering flame flickering beneath the surface. but, you don’t seem to notice, head too stuffed with cotton and saccharine adoration to realize that your antics have landed you in the perfect position to be ensnared and swept off your feet before you can even think to smear that pleased grin off your face.

it doesn’t matter if it’s your intention or not—you’re pushing him, testing the waters, steadily chipping away at his last fragments of discipline until they’re whittled down into tapered fangs poised to sink greedily into your soft body. but, he resolves to remain still, letting you handle him as you please. after all, he’s done all that he can. the consequences of whatever you decide to do with the information he revealed to you will fall entirely on your shoulders.

your hands raise to cradle his face between your palms, and you coo, “i have the sweetest boyfriend ever! always the gentleman.” when you release him and take a step back, he notices a glint of something almost wistful in your gaze. “but, you don’t have to say any of that. i’d rather you be truthful than try to make me feel better, and you really don’t have to! it doesn’t really bother me anymore. it just is what it is, y’know?” you shrug.

disbelief flares inside him as he lowers his arms back to his sides and stares at you, aghast. he can’t believe it. even after all of that, you’re still not taking him seriously.

“you think i’m lying?”

“i have to admit,” you confess with a chuckle, “it made me happy to hear you say that. but,” your index finger lifts to tap against his chest, and the sparkle in your eye has returned, “i’ve heard it before. it’s the same, old story, but there’s never any follow–through.” you chuckle, but his features soften in surprise when he notices the slightly wry edge to it. “see, half the time the guys saying it are just hoping that girls will be insecure or ‘appreciative’ enough to fuck them just because they’re ‘different’ and ‘not shallow,’ or whatever.” suddenly, your eyes widen, and you rush to correct yourself. “oh! but that’s not to say i think that’s what you’re doing. i know you’re not like that. but, like, for example, up until literally today, you’ve never really expressed any sort of interest in that part of me, and it’s okay, toma. seriously. i’m not expecting you to or anything, so you don’t have to feel bad.”

it’s right then and there that it truly dawns on hiragi that this isn’t about you toying with his restraint or playing dumb. rather, this is about a misconception that’s so deeply rooted in your psyche that you believe it to be the truth. he had a difficult time wrestling with the idea, but now . . . a dull ache of culpability bleeds throughout his chest as he realizes that in the end, it doesn’t even matter why he kept himself reserved. what matters is that he did, and now he doesn’t even have a leg to stand on in convincing you, because all you know are his actions—or, he supposes, his lack of action.

“shit,” his voice is so quiet that it’s intelligible, and his eyes flutter shut in resignation. all at once, every ounce of the tumult and guilt churning in the pit of his stomach roils into a surge of agitation. had he known what to say to dismantle your misconceptions, had he taken the initiative to demonstrate his feelings, had he been more attentive or perhaps more in–tune with you as your boyfriend—then maybe neither of you would even be here, the helpless frustration simmering in his gaze reflecting off the jumble of unreadable emotions in your own, standing on opposite sides of the same spectrum with zero intention of budging on your views despite there being only a fraction of an inch of space between your bodies.

but, you are.

he loathes the feeling of being powerless in the face of turmoil—of being unable to fully comprehend or relate to the depth of your issues and thus being left to scramble for a solution unattainable by his own wisdom or the hardened fists he’d relied upon for years. he doesn’t know what to do, and it’s both disheartening and vexing.

this is nothing like when he’d mentored his underclassman or tried to boost morale among disheartened gang members in the past. he’s never been quite skilled at appealing to women or handling their emotions, either his intimidating physical appearance or his rough and occasionally crude manner of speaking tending to spark more anxiety than comfort. the rational part of his brain reasons that a more delicate, gentle approach would be suitable for handling your insecurities. but when all he’s left with is dogged determination, internalized frustration that he hasn’t yet found an outlet for, and a particularly agitating throb of desire that’s been wreaking havoc on his self–control for the better part of a week, he finds that his composure is wearing thin.

“hey,” he’s snapped back into focus at the feeling of your ticklish fingertips sliding over his hands, coaxing open the fists he didn’t realize he’d balled them into. “either way, i appreciated it.” he expels a deep, drawn–out breath at your reassurance. perhaps it’s due to the heavy sense of responsibility that’d been drilled into him during his time in furin, but he can’t bring himself to accept your words. he should have done more. he should be able to do more. he’s mowed down countless opponents in the past and garnered respect from even more, yet he can’t manage to do his job as your boyfriend?

that can’t be true.

when he doesn’t reply, you toss your arms around his waist in a loose embrace. “c’mon, quit sulking,” you tease. “if you keep frowning like that, you’ll have wrinkles in three years.”

“i’m not sulking,” he gripes, but the way he folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the counter tells you otherwise.

“you are.” you retort playfully. you’re intent on closing the distance, and hiragi can’t help the rosy blush that blooms along his cheeks when you push your chest up against his forearm in the process. you’re quick to notice, and a devilish smile crosses your lips. “oh, don’t tell me. what, is my voluptuous bust bothering you? is it distracting?” you snort, suggestively raising your brows. but hiragi doesn’t find your taunting amusing.

“what’s the matter? why are you so quiet?” hiragi’s jaw ticks, the mirthful twinkle in your eye exacerbating the heat welling under his skin. “you’re pretty red—oh, was i right all along and you do have a fever?”

“you’re pushin’ it.” he grunts.

“i’m not doing anything.” you protest, but you both know that you’re full of shit. “i can’t be worried about my boyfriend’s health?”

a vein pulses in his temple.

ignoring the murkiness seeping into his gaze, you lift your hand with an ostentatious flourish and make a show of placing your palm flat over his forehead, melding your body flush against his. “just as i thought. not only are you flushed, but you’re pretty warm, too. say,” you release him and step back, planting your hands on your hips in feigned contemplation, “it’s still kinda hot in here, isn’t it?

“no.”

“mm, i think it is,” you grin. “at least, i’m a bit warm.” you reach out and tug on the hem of his sweatshirt. “maybe you should take this off.” your eyes light up with a new idea, and he feels his jaw slacken, world slowing to a crawl, when you hook your fingers beneath the band of your bralette with a wicked glint in your eye. “or, maybe, i should take this off—”

all at once, the maelstrom swelling in his chest detonates, splattering his muscles and veins with a white-hot smattering of frustration that licks over every fiber and striation until he can practically feel the steam emanating from his skin. your laughter cuts off into a surprised gasp when his large hands clamp down on your hips, calloused fingertips dimpling the soft flesh just above your waistband as he hoists you up and slams you down onto the counter as if you were nothing more than a glass paperweight.

he scoffs when you have the audacity to look shocked from your place seated atop the marble surface, pretty eyes wide with surprise and hands instinctively clutching at his shoulders for balance—or maybe it’s to keep him at bay, he isn’t certain. “toma . . ?” to his satisfaction, your voice is now hushed, stripped of every salacious undertone and taunting lilt that had been driving him up the fucking wall.

your eyes nervously flicker down to his hands when they brace themselves on the edge of the counter on either side of you, sinewy arms bracketing you in and barricading every quick escape route. you wither under the dark intensity of his gaze, and when he speaks, his low, gravelly tone borders on a growl. “so, you still think i’m lyin’, huh?

you flinch as he renews the topic that you’d been adamant on dismissing. your lips form words, but your voice is still wedged in your throat as your brain struggles to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere and the fact that you were literally swept off your feet.

pride sears his chest as he realizes that he has you exactly as he needs you—subdued and finally ready to fucking listen. all you needed was a little jolt back to reality, it seems. it is a shame, really, how you’ve forced his hand. maybe if you had teased him just a little bit less . . . or maybe if you’d refrained from pulling that very last stunt, he’d have been ready to demonstrate his gratitude to you for dialing it back. unfortunately, now he’s wound too tightly to let you off the hook without returning the favor.

he chuckles dryly. “what’s the matter? why’re ya so quiet? had the biggest mouth just a second ago.”

indignation sparks in your eyes as he shamelessly throws your words back in your face, but such tiny scintillas aren’t enough to sustain the steadiness of your voice as you mumble, “i don’t . . . i don’t know what you want me to say.” your fingers curl into his sweatshirt, drawing the loose material into your fists.

he scoffs. “‘course not. that brain of yours always stops workin’ right about now, doesn’t it?”

“hey!” you object. “i’m not—”

but, he’s reached his limit, and he doesn’t intend to let you hold the reins anymore. you will hear him, even if he has to pluck at a couple of your strings to make you.

you owe him that much.

“you think you’re real cute, huh?” he cuts you off, the sunlight glinting off the sharp points of his pearly white teeth a drastic contrast to the shadow of bated need swallowing up his irises. “tell me. you been havin’ fun runnin’ around and hangin’ all over me with your tits on display? bein’ a damn tease? almost makin’ me pop a blood vessel tryin’ to keep my eyes up? all ‘cause you thought i wouldn’t care?”

a wave of something unreadable floods your gaze, and you wince. “wait . . . you were being serious?” you pipe up timidly.

“deadly.”

reluctance tinges your features, and he can practically see your internal divide as you drift between the past and the present—between the words of some asshole and the unfiltered, undeniable need flaring in hiragi’s gaze. “i didn’t know you were actually . . .” your voice trails off. “but why? it’s like every guy—”

“doesn’t matter.” he leans forward until his face is level with yours, and the conflict swirling behind your eyes is clearer than ever. “this isn’t about anyone except for you and me.” his voice is a low rumble. “no one else.” you don’t answer. instead, you break eye contact with a slight downward tilt of your head, cheeks warm with embarrassment. his palm moves to cradle your jaw, blunt fingernails sinking harmlessly into your cheeks as he angles your head up and redirects your line of sight back to him. “you understand?” his voice is firm yet not unkind, bearing an edge just rough enough to get his point across.

his grip yields under the tiny nod you return. “i understand,” your response is timid, but there’s a tiny seed of a newfound acceptance beginning to take root in your eyes that makes his stomach flip.

in one smooth movement, he releases your face and slips his fingers beneath the dainty straps of your bralette, sliding them off your shoulders and down your arms. your petulant, mild whine of “hey!” is kicked to the backburner as he hooks his fingertips over the band at the center of your chest and yanks the fabric down to expose you entirely.

you yelp in surprise and snatch your hands away from him, but he hardly notices. his mouth waters as his eyes brazenly roam the expanse of your chest. “christ, look at you.” he mutters, occupying his tongue with skimming over the tips of his teeth to ward off the urge to pop one of your nipples in his mouth and abuse it until it’s swollen and shiny with saliva—exactly like he’s been dreaming about. “fuckin’ perfect.”

embarrassment is scrawled across your features at his crude language and the sudden barrage of attention as you sit, stone–still and rigid with uncertainty. your skin is hot to the touch, and hiragi watches in displeasure as your shoulders bow forward ever–so slightly, as if curling into yourself to evade his view. it becomes clear to him that your brain is still suspended in limbo as you try to comprehend his behavior. it’s almost amusing. for as much as you were running your mouth before, now you can’t bring yourself to raise your eyes any higher than the silver chain peeking just above the collar of his hoodie, and your arms instinctively snake across your chest to conceal your breasts.

“don’t.”

the stern authority in his voice splinters the tension between you, and you immediately freeze in place, eyes shooting up to his. there’s a moment of heavy silence that stretches between you, suffocating and cumbersome as it drapes itself over hiragi’s shoulders. it’s a moment of waiting—waiting for you to cleave through his control with a single word, waiting for you to push him away and establish boundaries, waiting for any sign of rejection that would cause him to withdraw entirely and give you room to breathe.

but, you refrain.

it’s slow, akin to a flower’s petals unfurling under the kiss of sunlight. but he can see it in the ebb of the guarded furrow of your brows and the shift of your expression into something more open and trusting; the measured bloom of need that’s beginning to emerge from beneath the gossamer sheen of embarrassment and inhibition veiling your eyes; the gradual relaxation of your muscles until your hands fall acquiescently into your lap and your tense shoulders decompress—you’re making the step toward relinquishing yourself to him, trusting him.

the sight provides the assurance he needs, and just like that, the dynamic resumes.

“spent all damn week showin’ off. don’t know what you’re gettin’ shy for now.” he mutters, and you frown at his words.

“no—” you gasp softly when he dips his head down to plant a heated kiss on your shoulder, “wasn’t showing off. you’re just being mean.”

he can see the goosebumps scatter across your chest when he huffs a low laugh, warm breath caressing your collarbone. “me? if anyone was bein’ mean, it was you. you know how difficult you were makin’ it to keep my hands off ya?”

“how was i supposed to know?” you whine, squirming under the ticklish sensation. “you never . . . i thought . . .”

“i know i didn’t, and ‘m sorry. i should’ve.” he can hear the hitch in your breathing at his murmured confession. “just didn’t wanna scare ya off.” he retracts his head to meet your eyes and places a warm hand on your thigh in an attempt to reassure you. but when he feels the prickle of goosebumps beneath his palm and spots the heated dilation of your pupils as you observe him, he chuckles. “although, it looks like i never had anything to worry about to begin with.”

“of course not.” you mumble shyly. “just tell me next time.”

“deal.” he cracks a lopsided, wolfish grin. “so, you gonna give me the chance to make up for it?”

your eyes round, flustered at the implication of his offer. it’s one final chance for you to back out—for you to successfully extinguish the lecherous flame stirring within him, because he’s not sure how well he’ll be able to wrangle himself back in once you finally let him have his way with you. instead, your head bobs forward in a quick, little nod, and you confess sheepishly, “i would like that.”

his heart thuds in his chest at your permissive words, and god, he hopes that you know what floodgates you’ve opened. . .

you squeal when his head dips low without warning, fingertips rough with greed as they eagerly pinch and grope at your supple nipples, sharp teeth already grazing over your skin in search of the best place to leave the first mark of many. it happens so abruptly that you choke on the gasp that’s punched from your chest, body trembling beneath the blitz of stimulation.

. . . because he’s certain that by the time he’s satisfied, weeks from now, long after the marks of tonight have vanished, merely catching a glimpse of your bare skin in the mirror will be enough to remind you exactly how he feels about you.

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #windbreaker smut #hiragi smut #toma hiragi smut #toma hiragi x reader #hiragi x reader #hiragi toma

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diejager · 1 year

Note

wait did that person not know what cnc meant? not to be rude, but what did they think they were reading when it said cnc😭

i love your yandere price stuff so so so much omg grrrr 😵‍💫🩵 can you talk about any yandere price headcannons you have? kidnapping the reader and taking them home, locking the reader away and him using them like toy for his own needs 😖 you can make this non-con if you want, i don't mind since i know you have amazing ideas! :)

but please ignore this if it makes you uncomfy!!! 💐

On the contrary, this made me smile a bit too much to be seen as normal tbh… I’m actually not even sure what they expected from Non-con, sunshines and rainbows? Maybe the just didn’t expect that. And thank you!!🥰 I just ADORE you’re toxic dadbod!Price. It’s bloody genius 🤤

Headcanon

Pairing: Yan!Captain John Price x fem!reader

CW: DARK, yandere, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, NON-CON, power kink, authority kink, breeding, pregnancy, basement wife, spanking, I def missed a few- WC: 1.1k

Yan!Price isn’t afraid of showing others who you belong to. It might be in many purple and red marks on your neck, kisses and bites from the day before and accumulating with every passing day. Or it might be various dark bruises on your arms and thighs, placed in specific areas that would make it impossible to hide when you wear shorts, t-shirts and a tank top.

For someone known for his professionalism, he doesn’t hide his affection for you at all. Yan!Price hovers over you like a hawk, always keeping a hand on you. Whether it’s his hand on your shoulder, his arm around your hip, or his warm palm sliding down the hollow of your back, dancing on the edge of indecent and suggestive.

Yan!Price may not be a firm believer of fate or destiny, but for you, he believes it was the iron hand of fate. He was destined to meet you when you were still fresh, a bright-eyed and happy soldier that passed the assessment tests and followed superiors like a lost puppy. You were a blessing to him, you didn’t challenge his authority, you did boast about your grades and you didn’t spew nonsensical dreams and goals of becoming a general, the best sniper or the strongest.

Yan!Price is a respectable man with respectable habits, even with the subtle glances he throws your way and the hungry way his eyes rove over your body. With respectability, comes other less appropriate things he does when he’s on his own. His rank and power ooze from his form, the broad shoulders and gruff, yet kind, face inspire respect from others, but from you, he demands more. His carnality drowns his sense of duty with you.

Yan!Price has a deep need to sate his power kink, keeping his rank even in moments of intimacy. His words are law, his hands are the hammer and you, the thing he manhandles and bends to his will.

Yan!Price likes to call you his pet when he punishes you for something that might or might not have been of your own doing. He bends you over his knee and makes you count the number of spanks he gives. If you miss one, he makes you redo them from the start, no matter the number of strikes. Or he uses you to his leisure, in a rough and demeaning way that makes you cry and whimper, apologise for something - anything so that he would stop.

Yan!Price calls you private - your rank - when he feels the need to use it, enforcing his authority kink. Fucking you dumb over his desk until you drool and lose all sense, babbling and crying. He likes hearing you beg, hearing you plead. Screaming “please” over and over again sends his body shuddering (He could care less if they were pleads for more or for him to stop, he doesn’t bother with that theoretics).

Or Yan!Price sings you poems and adoringly obsessive nothings, calling you love as he takes care of you, pulling you over the edge again and again, over and over, until you pass out from pleasure. He’s soft in those moments, caring and loving to his cute fiancé. He focuses on your pleasure over his, leaving his leaking and aching until you’re satisfied or out cold.

If he can’t have you transferred to his team - for whatever reason - he’d result in kidnapping you. Kidnapping is a harsh word, he’s not kidnapping you, he’s taking you away from a life of pain and hardship. Yan!Price is taking care of you at home, where you’re far from having a gun pointed at you or being threatened by a knife.

You start up in the basement if you act out too much. Yan!Price has the room built just right to fit your every need. The door’s locked with a dozen locks, he’s not paranoid, he’s simply planning in advance as a Captain should. He’s caring for you.

When you start listening, he lets you roam the house, sleep in the same bed, eat at the kitchen table and shower in the upstairs bathroom. Yan!Price’s softer in this setting, he acts like your lover and husband-to-be - he is. He cooks for you, he helps you shower, he orders you around and he does everything to ensure that you live comfortably - or as comfortably as you can in this situation.

Try as he might, you don’t fall madly in love with him as he does with you. Loving embraces, mind-blowing orgasms, a comfortable life and a caring man seem meaningless to you. So Yan!Price decides to fuck a kid into you, what other option would make you marry him? You weren’t so heartless as to want to separate your child from their father. You’re too soft, too caring for the life of a soldier. How dreadful would it be to have a child out of wedlock? You’d marry him then, wouldn’t you?

Pregnant or not; subservient or not; happy or not; none of it matters, you’re his, his to love, his to care, his to fuck. You are his to do so. After everything he went through to take you, to care for and feed you, to give you a child, you owe him all the world. His pet, his private, his love, his wife, you owe Yan!Price so much that he could do anything he wants with you. You would let him let him use you as he wants, wouldn’t you?

He has a desk in his office where he can bend you over, he has a queen size bed where he can mount you, he has so many walls in the hose where he can push you against and he has a garage where he stores his car for other uses.

You’re on your period? Doesn’t matter to him, he doesn’t shy from a bit of blood, he’s in the army. You’re in pain? Don’t worry, he’ll take the pain away with his cock. You’re sleepy? He doesn’t mind fucking an unconscious body, you’ll still react in your sleepy haze. You’re pregnant? He’ll be careful, he promises, he’ll only use his tongue and finger, he can fuck his hand or your warm mouth.

Although he’s rough and mean, Yan!Price loves you, he truly does. He cares for you. You’re his world. He even takes time off from his military campaigns to spend time with you. If you want something, he’d buy it for you. If you want him, he’d give himself to you. If you want more kids running around, he’d get you as fat and round as many times you want. But if you want freedom? The possibility of returning to your training? That wouldn’t be possible, he doesn’t approve.

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daydream-cement · 1 year

Note

PLEEEAAASEEE MAKE MORE LARISSA WEEMS SMUT IM BEGGING ITS MY THERAPY AFTER SCHOOL

The Challenge (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

A bit of Sub!Larissa who appreciates size in the bedroom.

Author’s Note: This is one of the longest smut pieces I have ever written. Thank you so much to @alexusonfire for beta-ing!!!

Larissa couldn’t hide her displeasure with the sex scene at hand. Her nose crinkled, brow furrowed, and lip curled in complete disbelief that a woman could be screaming like this due to carnal pleasure. The scene continued on a few more seconds and the shapeshifter couldn’t help but scoff, earning the attention of you who sat curled into her side.

“What?” You inquired, eyes now focused up at the blonde, curious to what could have caused the headmistress to let out such an incredulous scoff. The shapeshifter shifted down into her seat, pulling you closer and partially wishing she hadn’t made her disapproval of the movie known.

The headmistress hummed thinking up her reply before responding nonchalantly, raking a hand through your silky locks as she did so, “Nothing... It’s just... Who actually makes that much noise? I mean... it’s just a little unrealistic.”

“I don’t know what you are referring to. I’ve heard you make noise in the bedroom.” You blinked quickly as you thought back to all of the times Larissa had moaned and cried out under your touch, disproving the headmistress’s argument.

The same disapproving look covered the headmistress’s face, her words tinged with disbelief that any woman could make such a display of herself in the bedroom, “Not like that.”

You only raised a brow. The blonde had struck a nerve and you were beginning to take the headmistress’s words as a challenge, “I could make you sound like that.”

“I don’t think so, darling. I’m just quieter in the bedroom. There is no way around it.” The headmistress apparently hadn’t noticed your intense gaze as the blonde continued watching the movie like she hadn’t imposed such a challenge on you.

It wasn’t until your wandering hands on her breasts accompanied by a growl that jolted the shapeshifter’s attention away from the tv screen. Quickly you readjusted your position to straddle the headmistress’s lap, hands pulling the blonde’s tank top top down to reveal her bare breasts. Your hands massaged them gently at first. Your eyes were dark as they met the headmistress’s, your voice conveying to Larissa what you had planned for the rest of the evening, “I can make you sound like that.”

“I don’t think you can.” The blonde’s tone was sweet, as always, coming off more condescending than anything. The shapeshifter truly didn’t believe the words she spoke, but the thought of riling you up more was irresistible.

You only smiled in response. The type of smile that made Larissa’s stomach flip for she knew the night would end with her on her knees or face into the mattress, unable to form a single coherent thought.

Larissa raised a hand to the back of your head, desperate to feel her lips against yours. When she leaned in to kiss you, however, you pulled away, the game was already afoot, “You can have a kiss when I’m finished with you.”

The blonde only huffed in response, already displeased she wasn’t getting her way. If one thing was true, it was the fact that the headmistress had spent much of the beginning of your sex life on the receiving end, always getting what she wanted sexually. As the you grew more comfortable with one another, the kinks began surfacing, leading to a whole new world in the bedroom.

You slipped off the shapeshifter’s lap, your hand swatting at the blonde’s thigh, “Get that pretty ass in the bedroom. I want you to strip before you get on that bed.”

Larissa did as she was told, stripping off her shirt before she even left the living room and tossing it back at you. Before she passed into the bedroom, she glanced at the clock above the mantle: 9:37pm, denoting the time as it would be hours before you would be finished with her.

Stripping herself of her pajama shorts and underwear, Larissa crawled into bed as quickly as possible, hoping she didn’t seem too overzealous for this challenge to get underway. While she hadn’t been too horny ten minutes ago, she had already soaked through her panties, but she wasn’t about to let you in on that information.

The shapeshifter lounged on the bed as she waited for you, a pillow tucked under her head and her legs lazily parted, anxious for you to get in there and fuck her already. It wasn’t until a couple minutes later that you walked in, naked and already wearing the harness with the usual 6in cock attached, but your left hand carried three different sizes of dildo, each one bigger than the last. The largest of the bunch seemed to have something attached to it, but what it was, the headmistress had no clue.

Larissa attempted to hide a shiver that traveled down her spine, but you caught the reaction, a pleased smile spreading across your face. Dropping the sex toys next to Larissa on the bed, your fingertips grazed the headmistress’s knees, teasing the blonde with your touch, “I think we should make a little wager. If I get you to scream and moan like the woman in the movie, then...” You trailed off, leaving your prize up to the headmistress.

“I’ll do that nude photoshoot you wanted and if I win... I want to fuck you with the nine inch.” Larissa was all too confident in her wager. Never in her life had she cried out in the bedroom like the woman in the film. Only quiet whimpers and moans had ever escaped her before she was with you.

You hummed at the offer, feeling an added pressure now that the headmistress planned to demolish you with the nine inch if you lost.You were so sure of yourself, you dipped her face low, pressing a kiss to your lover’s shin as you replied, “You have yourself a deal. Now, give me a kiss...”

The headmistress paused for a moment, knowing your intentions weren’t as pure as she would like to believe. She pushed herself up on her hands, leaning up, ready to kiss her beloved. You reached a hand out quickly, gripping the shapeshifter by the cheeks and squeezing, “Open your mouth for me.”

You could sense the headmistress’s hesitation when the blonde’s mouth only opened slightly, so you instructed the shapeshifter once more, “Open your mouth wider for me, slut.”

It took everything in you not to groan at the sight of the shapeshifter's doe eyes gazing up at you as she stuck out her tongue, ready to accept whatever you were about to do. You allowed the headmistress to sit like that for a moment, tongue outstretched, looking so vulnerable as she waited for the degradation that was to come. Finally giving in, you leaned over the blonde, gathered saliva in your mouth before spitting it into Larissa’s.

Larissa’s clit was absolutely throbbing and breath shaky from your actions and you hadn’t truly touched her yet. This was going to be a long night.

“S-” You were beginning to speak once more, but Larissa anticipated the thought, swallowing your saliva before you had a chance to order her to do so. This earned the headmistress an appreciative look from you as you stood looming over her, “Such a good little pet...” Your words made Larissa tremble, “Lay back for me.”

Doing as she was told, Larissa laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in anxious anticipation of what was to come. Chills ran across her body and she shook as you knelt between her legs. Slow, lazy kisses began to cover every square inch of the inside of her thighs. Larissa knew you wanted to tease and make her squirm and if the shapeshifter was perfectly honest with herself, you were doing an incredible job.

The kisses turned into long strokes of your tongue followed by subsequent sucking of the headmistress’s flesh. Larissa was aching to be touched by you. She wanted those devine hands to spread her open and rub at her clit. She wanted you to push her fingers deep inside her until your wedding ring disappeared, just as she always did. But the whole while, you didn’t seem particularly inclined on giving the shapeshifter what she absolutely craved.

Deep sighs from Larissa conveyed her displeasure with the lack of pleasure, but you only let out a wry chuckle, “If you want more, all you have to do is moan for me.”

The blonde clenched her jaw in defiance, not willing to give up so soon, or so easily for that matter. You were happy to see Larissa feeling so obstinate today. It would make the evening so much more pleasurable that way.

Dipping your face low, you finally made contact with her aching center, minorly relieving the shapeshifter of the desire she felt for you. Your tongue would always be Larissa’s undoing.

Your hands gripped the headmistress’s thighs, pushing them up and out to spread the shapeshifter even wider. Hungrily, you began lapping at the blonde’s core, tasting everything the headmistress had to offer.

The shapeshifter’s breathing was shaky, but nowhere near the screaming ecstasy you were aiming for. With each stroke of your tongue against the headmistress’s clit, the blonde released a sigh of pleasure, her hips pressing into the mattress beneath herself. The bit of sound was enough for you to smirk, knowing you were headed in the right direction.

The blonde was soon writhing under your tongue, but no loud sounds were emitted from Larissa, only the soft hums and sighs of a job well done. You were growing tired of the headmistress’s obstinance, knowing upping the ante was the only way for you to get your way.

Larissa released a huff of disappointment when you pulled away, but soon the blonde herself was smirking, as she had won the first round. The smile on her face soon disappeared when your disapproving gaze met the headmistress’s, “Flip over. I want your ass in the air and your hands behind your back.”

Doing as she was told, Larissa rolled onto her stomach, pulling up her knees to raise her ass in the air. She knew what you were planning for her. Wrapping her hands behind her back, the shapeshifter heard the opening and closing of your bedside drawer and soon felt the familiar sensation of her bondage cuffs being strapped to her wrists.

“The quiet ones are always the most fun to break,” You growled before she unceremoniously shoved the strap deep inside the headmistress.

Yet again, she only elicited a hum of pleasure from Larissa as she enjoyed the sensation of being filled. You quickened your pace, making sure each time you plunged deep into the blonde, you yanked the headmistress’s hips back against herself, hoping the roughness may bring out more noise. You grasped at the headmistress’s wrists, showing the cuffs were merely there for show from the way you held them firmly between your fingers.

“Is that all?” Larissa asked quietly, knowing this would egg you on even more. The blonde was more so hoping you would up the size of the strap, knowing you were well aware the 6in did nothing for her.

You growled, spare hand coming to rest on the headmistress’s ass, roughly squeezing and man-handling the flesh there, “Don’t play coy, dearest. We both know how much of a slut for me you can be. For someone insistent on not being an object, you certainly make a good fucktoy.”

A laugh resounded from the blonde, the need to challenge you was all too consuming. This only resulted in a loud smack as your hand came down on Larissa’s ass. The pain was absolutely divine and Larissa let out a small whine in hopes you would spank her once more. The headmistress got her way when three subsequent spanks followed, all of which caused the blonde to whine and whimper, but not nearly loud enough for you to win the bet.

With a frustrated sigh, you pulled from Larissa, knowing the only way to accomplish her goal was to push an even larger strap inside of the blonde. Pulling the 6in from the strap-on, you replaced it with the 8in, not quite ready to give Larissa the sizes that she found to be most pleasurable.

You teased the shapeshifter with the new strap, rubbing it against her entrance to lube it up before pushing it inside. You forced the strap to the hilt in one motion, earning an appreciative groan from Larissa. Louder but still not loud enough.

You found a good pace, not quite pounding Larissa, but firm enough to earn a whimper every few strokes. Reaching a hand around the headmistress’s hip, your hand found the blonde’s clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive nub. This was a fail proof method in making Larissa cum.

You rutted against Larissa, the blonde’s whimpers still quiet, but now continuous as an orgasm drew near. Larissa seemed to mumble something, but not nearly clear enough for you to hear.

“Say it again? I didn’t hear you.” Your voice was so condescending, nearly enough to make Larissa cum just from hearing it. Reaching your spare hand up, you grasped the shapeshifter’s neck, pulling the tall woman up against you.

One hand squeezing her neck while the other manipulated her clit, the blonde was finding it hard to control herself, “P-please let me cum…”

Your hand came down hard on the headmistress’s ass, grasping at the flesh you spanked, “Who do you think you’re talking to, slut?”

“Ple-please let m-me cum, my love-” the headmistress was getting desperate for any form of relief.

“That’s better. Now beg harder, you’ve had it FAR easier than you deserve.”

Larissa began to beg, unlike anything you had ever heard before, “Please, please, pleasepleaseplease-“ The woman’s words began to join together as she attempted to stave off an incoming orgasm. Her eyes squeezed shut, it was almost painful, the sensation of trying not to cum.

“Better.” You muttered, her grip tightening on the headmistress’s throat enough to restrict airflow for a fraction of a second, “Now cum for me.”

Your hand on her throat released when Larissa allowed herself to cum. The cry of pleasure that came from the shapeshifter was a hiss turned growl. You gritted your teeth, knowing the blonde was still keeping a lid on her cries of pleasure. Releasing Larissa from your grip, you watched as the blonde settled back into her previous position, ass held high in the air as she waited for another round. You knew she was trying to silently torment you.

Time to go up another size.

With a new dildo in place, you dipped two fingers through the headmistress’s cunt and now noticed Larissa had cum more than the one time she asked to. Her cunt was soaked, dripping down to create a wet spot beneath on the bed beneath her.

Pulling your fingers from the blonde’s pussy, you bent over Larissa, holding them out for her to suck clean. Greedily, the headmistress took your fingers into her mouth, earning words of encouragement from you, “Oh, yes, that’s a pretty slut...”

Satisfied with the blonde’s performance, you pulled your hand away, ready to begin pounding Larissa once more. You gripped Larissa’s hips hard enough to leave them bruised, watching the tip of the fake cock disappear into the shapeshifter.

Your gaze met the ceiling, settling into a wonderful rhythm that led to Larissa whining and moaning with each stroke. There was a reason this toy was Larissa’s favorite. Each time the shapeshifter came she buried her face in the pillow, making you smirk.

“You are the best fucktoy in the world. I’m so lucky to have you, my little slut.” You hummed, offering a few words of encouragement to the woman becoming a puddle beneath you. As a reward, you undid the fastenings on the cuffs, allowing Larissa to brace herself against the bed with her hands rather than her face.

Larissa took the cock so well. Her whimpers and moans were music to your ears as you knew the woman was melting into a puddle beneath you. While she wasn’t loud enough to win now, you knew once you went up another size, the blonde would come completely undone.

Staring down at where your bodies were connected by the fake cock, you adored the way it completely disappeared within her. Larissa could take so much it was admirable.

Increasing your pace, you began to pound Larissa, tilting your head to the side so you could watch the shapeshifter’s face. The blonde’s eyes were squeezed shut, moans pouring from her as she drooled onto the mattress beneath her. You slowed to a stop when Larissa regained control of herself and stopped moaning. You knew Larissa was almost at her limit when you finally pulled the strap from her, but the blonde still had one size left to go.

Replacing the 10in with the 12in, you grasped Larissa's ass once more, making sure to grip where it was bright red and raw. The blonde whimpered, the loudest noise thus far, but not where you wanted her to be. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to Larissa’s reddened ass, your voice low, “Get on your back. I want to see that pretty little face as you take this entire cock.”

Larissa was exhausted, not knowing if she could take any more. She couldn’t move from the spot where she had been fucked so roughly for God-knows-how-long.

“Let’s not be difficult now, dearest.” Grumbling at the headmistress’s inability to do as she was told, you gripped the headmistress’s right arm and thigh, pulling her onto her stomach through sheer force. The blonde moaned as her back hit the bed, her body was absolutely aching from the ordeal she was putting it through, “So close yet, so far. I need to hear you, baby, and this will all be over.”

Even through her tired gaze, the headmistress attempted to remain steadfast, her eyes closing and face tilting towards the ceiling as she waited for the final bout of penetration. You were growing impatient with Larissa, but you were filled with immense satisfaction that the blonde was about to fail miserably at keeping quiet.

Positioning the strap at her entrance, you began nice and slow and grinned widely when Larissa’s hum of approval grew in volume as more inches slipped inside of her. A full groan escaped Larissa when you had the entire strap buried inside of her. Deeply satisfied, you pushed the shapeshifter’s legs wider, your voice the gentlest it had been that night, “Atta girl.”

She was achingly full, but you still had more for the blonde. Pulling out slightly, you plunged the fake cock back into Larissa at full force eliciting yet another full blown, pained cry from the woman beneath you. The shapeshifter winced, from discomfort and from the knowledge that she was about to lose this bet miserably.

You gripped the blonde’s hips, pulling out and pushing in with broad strokes, drawing cries from Larissa, each louder than the last. While you were winning the bet, you received something even greater than the satisfaction of winning. You had been the first to draw these sounds from Larissa. Needing to encourage your love, you crawled over the blonde, your voice a whisper, “You take me so well, darling. It’s almost like you were made for this…nothing else.”

The headmistress couldn’t form words, only loud moans and cries of ecstasy. The blonde reached out a hand to grasp your wrist. Straightening back up, you slipped your hand down to intertwine your fingers. Your other hand came to grip the headmistress’s leg, right under her knee to keep her pussy spread wide for continuous fucking.

While you began to quicken her pace, the shapeshifter's cries mimicked that of the movie. The only thing spilling from the headmistress’s lips was her seeming to say your name over and over again, which was music to your ears.

Larissa’s loud cries diminished as she could hardly process the fucking she was recieving. Her eyes were rolled back deep into her skull, only a groan-growl in the back of her throat made you know the blonde was still conscious.

You decided it was time for the final part of tonight’s activities, “Look at me, baby.”

It took almost all of her energy to pry her eyes open. Exhausted, she stared up at you, examining the plunger in your hand that was attached to the far end of the dildo. A groan grew in the blonde’s throat, knowing what was to come, literally and figuratively. You smirked with deep satisfaction when you pushed down on the plunger, filling Larissa with the fake cum. In response, Larissa let out a soundless scream, her mouth was held open wide while her body trembled and shook from her orgasm.

With a firm hand pressed to Larissa’s abdomen, you slowly pulled the cock from the headmistress, leaving the blonde shaking. You smiled in sweet satisfaction, watching the cum spill from Larissa who was almost fucked to the point of unconsciousness.

You took to unbuckling the strap from your body, frowning at the sight of lines marking your own body from the intensity in which you fucked Larissa. Dropping the strap to the floor, your eyes crawled up Larissa’s spent body, finding the headmistress’s face scrunched up with tears.

You scrambled across the bed, hands cradling Larissa’s face to comfort her in any way you could, “Shhh, shh, shhh, what’s happened? What hurts?”

“I-I-I’m s-so t-t-tired.” The blonde could hardly catch her breath and her voice was so quiet, you feared you had broken Larissa altogether.

“Just rest. I will help get you ready for bed.” You bent down, covering the blonde’s face in countless kisses, your voice aimed to soothe, “You are incredible, my sweet girl. I’m so proud of you, my beautiful, brilliant, sweet girl.”

With a shaky breath, Larissa tried to steady herself, your sweetness bringing her peace.

You went about preparing the headmistress for bed. You wet a towel with warm water, cleaning the headmistress of the cum leaking from her. You found the blonde’s makeup wipes and a dry towel, cleaning her face of makeup and pressing additional kisses to her now clean face. Finally, you pulled the covers back on the headmistress’s side of the bed, having to rouse the sleeping woman to help her snuggle into bed.

“Tomorrow we will take a bath and take it easy, hmm?” You spoke quietly, tucking Larissa’s stray hairs behind her ear as you pulled the blankets up over your love’s shoulders, “I love you.”

Larissa hummed the words ‘I love you too’, far too tired to respond with true verbal words.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @ihavenoclue2008, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @teashock, @enchantressb, @alex-nyx, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @l22e22a , @shyladyfan, @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @Alexthefavgay , @ladylarissaweems , @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @ohana19 , @principal-weems09, @emilynissangt-r, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @kay-liah-scope , @oculusalien, @kimiinou , @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @milciak, @Awkprettywrad , @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @h-doodles, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @Awkprettyward , @bychrissi, @fyrecatz

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal weems #principal larissa weems #nevermore academy #wednesday netflix #fanfic #oneshot #gwendoline christie #smut #principal weems x reader #gwen christie

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rawmeknockout · 8 months

Note

pls can I get a lonely cassette!reader being taken in by soundwave???? i need that man carnally and i need to be inside his boobs even more 💥💥💥

The city is burning. It's been on fire for days, the skyline you loved nothing but smoke and ash, and there is no relief in sight. Metal melting into itself and the surroundings, buildings merged together, until it looks like a great beast crying in agony. Fighting to pull itself out from it's own destruction. Your cassette-player is among those trapped under the rubble, squeezed beneath concrete and metal. Perhaps it's fortunate, then, that you know he's dead. You were his only companion, and now you're alone. It gives you comfort knowing he's not the one in your place.

There is no one coming to save you. The Decepticons and Autobots have torn Cybertron apart, your home just collateral among the list of casualties. It had filled you with rage when you saw the way they would cast anything in the way to achieve victory, but your anger is hollow now. You're not even sure you can feel anything at all. All you can think about is where you will find energon next.

There are no more relief stations near you, no more safe encampments that can take you in. All neutral parties, all crisis servants, have been pushed to the very edges of Cybertron where there is still just a bit of energon to mine. It wouldn't matter if you could get to them, anyway. Most have picked their side and will push recruitment if you come looking for aid, ensuring you will be safe if only you will be their fodder.

And you can't leave your home. Even when it is unrecognizable, the bright city lights long since blown out. This is where you want to be, the only place for you. You slowly duck and trudge between buildings, dirt settling in your joints and making the ache of your frame worse. You scan for any sign of energy, a leak of oil even, but it is bare here.

So lost in your HUD, you don't hear the clink of pedes on concrete, the glitching of your processor getting worse and more obstructive by the cycle. You try tapping at settings on your helm, but the static clears minimally. A giant blue mech stands in front of you when your vision clears of errors. You jump back, stumbling over your pedes to stay upright, and lean back to take in the intimidating bot before you.

His face is covered and his visor is red. So red against the white and blue of his paintjob. The blue gleams beautifully under the muffled sunlight, just barely able to break through the ash covering the sky. He must be important, or was. You could have never afforded a polish so uniform and bright. His chest is a window into a docked and rather comfortable looking cassette. You could laugh from how fortuitous this oasis is.

The purple of his insignia almost misses your awareness, but it is an ugly symbol and it hurts your optics to look upon it. You should be angry, but there is nothing. Perhaps this meeting is Primus' mercy, no matter how cold.

The large mech kneels in front of you, his helm still looming above your own, as his servo comes to rub dirt away from your faceplate. You don't shy away, despite the true dirtiness being in his allegiance. It's nice to feel a friendly touch. You eye his tapedeck enviously, like you want to rip the mech out of there and settle in its place. It's a horrible feeling that leaves a pit of shame in your tank. The fear and grief has turned you into an animal hungry for any sign of salvation.

The intimidating mech pulls from his subspace a wrapped packet: energon rations. Meager and half-eaten, it wouldn't be the best you've ever tasted, but you're grateful for the pity. It's hardly two bites before you're done. Despite the quality, it's the sweetest energon that's ever touched your glossa. Lubricant tracks down your cheekplates.

And despite it all, you want to live. A feeling that builds in your chassis and sings in your spark. You want to live, you want to leave this place. You don't care what you have to do. All you want is to tear free of the rubble and rip yourself from the metal melting down around you.

"Inquiry: Free to dock?" You grasp the opportunity with firm servos.

#asks #txt #reader insert #transformers #reader imagine #transformers idw #tf idw #transformers mtmte #tf mtmte #soundwave #tf soundwave #idw soundwave #mtmte soundwave

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eldritch-spouse · 11 months

Note

Pinnie I want Lacai to give me kissing lessons (I'm a virgin who's never been kissed even though I'm in my 20s it's so embarrassing)

[Oh shut it, things will happen when they're supposed to happen, jfc. Fem reader. Also, terrible idea as a whole.]

TW: Dubcon.

Boy, he lucked out. Lacai really got lucky this time.

See, when Lord Vesper spends a little more time in the surface than usual, Lacai is allowed to wander. On a bit of a tight leash, but wander nonetheless. And when Lacai's crafty, when luck favors him, he can mingle with the perfect crowds.

What he didn't expect however, was to find someone amongst the crowds like you this time. A virgin. Cute, shy little thing. The type of human concubi in Lust would lick their lips at and claw each other over. He can picture it now, demons of all ranks circling around your helpless form like sharks in a tank, bloodshed and frenzied arousal, tugging at your clothes, groping, biting- You'd be ruined.

Which makes the impcubus all the more giddy to have you all to himself.

Lacai is shorter than you, and yet, when he first approached you, you nearly jumped out of your skin. He could hear your poor heart thunder against its ribcage, a hint of immediate desire muffled by the scent of great panic.

He had to beckon you somewhere quieter, hidden, to be able to have a real conversation with you, bring you out of your shell. This careful process is one that not all of his kin have patience or time for, but Lacai is no stranger to it, enjoying getting to know some of his meals on a deeper level. And besides, virgins should be treated with care. If he is to be your guide into shared carnality, then he must make more than a good impression.

Conversation flowed surprisingly easily between you two, gentle laughter and awe from your part as the imp regaled you with happenings from his home, his work. Most of them scandalous in some way or another... And, as time passed, the fear you exhibited started to melt, your tense shoulders relaxed, those small hints of want starting to grow into genuine thirst. Lacai himself blushed, the pull of a soul yet to experience sex being stronger on those of low-rank, he perspired faintly.

Without him even having to steer the topic too much, you eventually brought up your inexperience, your desire to experience things you claim most people your age already have. It struck him as a bit silly that you were complaining about it as if you were in a race to the finish line -When really these first experiences ought to not be rushed- But fiend that he is, Lacai was very quick to assure you that such a simple request could become reality.

You wanted experience?

You wanted a kiss from someone who's embraced many a lover before?

He'd do that for you.

It seems, much to his fortune, that sexuality isn't the only thing you are inexperienced in. Because anyone who has ever dealt with demons would think twice before accepting a transaction disguised as a favor.

You didn't.

You were as blind as a bat, seeing only your goals within reach, and not the teeth behind Lacai's smirk as he rested a hand on your cheek.

And so, committed to this, perhaps endeared by you, the dance started. With the servant of Lust setting up a specific time and place where the two of you meet, and he helps you "practice".

Truth be told, Lacai is getting a little too fond of these moments. Seeing the way your eyes light up with joy at the sight of him, how you shrink slightly in yourself but always manage some sort of cheeky greeting, your attention and the way you hang off his every motion is a sweet respite from his duties back in the Rings. Even if these moments are too wholesome for his tastes, leave him dreadfully famished by the end, Lacai finds them to be worth it. Because they're part of the game. Because he...

He's grown to like you. More than that, truly.

Which is interesting, he'd always thought himself a little too hedonistic to humor the idea of genuine love, something that isn't fleeting. The imp doesn't know where this is going, but he does know he wants to be a part of it.

He can dwell on it later, when he's not claiming your lips.

You were never a bad kisser. Timid, for sure, barely ghosting across his in your fear of upsetting Lacai, but not bad.

In fact, it's never been hard to sway you into the right movement. The way you're so responsive paired with his natural sensuality, the drunkenness of need, it all makes this learning process a lot easier than you were probably expecting it to be.

Every night you meet, Lacai takes it just a bit further. However much you're willing to humor.

It didn't take too long for him to be slipping his tongue into your mouth the same way he does now, playful yet full of fervor, every one of your explorative motions rewarded with more of his intensity and an encouraging moan.

A kiss from an incubus is a trap. A weapon. A deadly seal coated in saccharine promises you're too flustered to question. It's the lure that makes you set your foot in a bear trap with a smile on your face. All the tastes you've ever loved you shall find on his tongue and all the pleasures you've yearned for will manifest in your mind. To you, it's an unstoppable force.

You were never able to kiss him once and stop, as expected. From day one, you'd always follow when he would pull away, more for your sake than his. And he always took the care to stop when he thought you'd had enough to be kept wanton and anticipating the next time.

Lately though, it's getting harder to do such. Because the further Lacai lets himself go, the more he indulges you, the less willing he is to leave you- To leave a meal worth writing home about after sampling but the very tip of it. Painful.

" You're getting better. "

The impcubus praises as you part, having allowed you to take initiative just to see how far things had gotten. And while yes, you had made a lot of progress, swiftly on your way to becoming a better kisser than most humans- Most of his rabid enjoyment came from your touch, from the fantasies he keeps conjuring of you putting your lips elsewhere.

" You- You think so? "

The demon nods eagerly, a hand on the back of your head bringing you forward to lick the sheen off your lips, bite at your bottom one. His breathing was quick but yours came faster, it was something of an open secret that neither of you were doing this for the sake of learning anymore.

The next kiss is rougher courtesy of his excitement, but you can handle it, he's made sure of it. It's nothing new, even as his clawed fingers drift to your neck, tracing your throat and darting to your sides, hungrily groping, pulling you closer. A growl of his has you shivering just the way Lacai likes it, and he wonders for how much longer he can keep things tame.

His drool starts taking, as it always does.

Pretty eyes turn glassy, you nearly sway in his grasp, overheated, disoriented. You lean onto his pervy fondling and Lacai purrs his delight openly. A stream of soft, almost pleading noises dies muffled on his tongue, and he has to tense his every muscle not to throw you to the ground, show you what lies beyond hidden kisses- Make you feel it all firsthand, fuck you over and over and over and over so that you learn to be the very best. Trained by Vesper's head servant. Trained to be a fine example of his Ring's standards.

Lacai's greedy left hand finishes its trip up your thigh by dipping between your legs. The touch alone, even through your pants, is enough to sober you up some. When your legs try to close around his hand, either to trap it there or in a futile effort to remove it, he grins and presses harder against your core, another desperate gasp falling out of your slightly swollen lips.

" Mm, what's that face for? " He teases when you offer him a scandalized look.

" It's not all just kissing, you know honeybee? "

Lacai takes advantage of your contemplative silence to move his fingers towards your zipper, pulling it down playfully.

" What are you going to do when you want to move onto the next steps? I can help you prepare for that... "

" And then I can teach you how to touch others. " The concubus huddles closer, nearly panting. " After all, you have so much to learn... "

#Lacai oc #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monsterfucker #terato tag #monster boyfriend #demon x reader #not sfw #minors dni

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sadhours · 1 year

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gosh ok bestie I wonder when ur gonna hate me for always being here but I can’t help it.

imagine dom billy wakes up horny, and fucks you from behind as he’s spooning you-drilling his cock in and out chasing high. It’s so rough and you love it- you can’t help but moan so loudly to which billy grabs onto you and tells you to shut up because they’re not alone in the house. He’s just using you at this point for his relief. At one point you start crying because it feels so good and he’s all in your ear like -‘fuck. you’re crying?’ And somehow manages to go even faster moaning in your ear. Inspired by this below ☺️

I’m a lil embarrassed I didn’t even realize I had written that until like just now 👀 I was like ugh I love that who wrote that let’s credit them and then I reread it a couple times and I was like oh shit that was me 🙄

Anyways I love you! Here’s this :)

It’s the smell of your hair and skin that triggers it. His nose is shoved into the mess of as he spoons you from behind. Billy woke up maybe ten minutes ago, but he wasn’t really awake. He was drifting in and out, nuzzling against the crook of your neck when he inhales deeply. The sleepy scent of you is one of his favorites, right up there with the salty air at the beach. Usually, it’s a comforting smell as it tries to lure him back to sleep. But this morning, it makes his dick twitch and he actually feels a little feral, going in for another breath of it.

He gropes your hip while he rolls his against your ass. The sensation stirs you, a sweet hum coming from your throat as you turn to look up at him.

“Morning,” you purr, voice a tad scratchy with sleep and Billy thinks you sound so sexy.

“Mhm,” he kisses your jaw and grinds against you again, “Need you.”

His words go straight to your cunt, thighs tingling as you grow wet. It’s what’s so lovely about him; the way he makes you feel so desired. Never in your life have you felt so god damn good about yourself. Not until you met Billy.

“Take me, then,” you plead softly.

You ain’t gotta tell him twice. He moves his hand between your bodies, pushing his briefs to his ankles and kicking them off. Next, his hands pull your flimsy tank top over your breasts and he gives them a squeeze for good measure. Can’t help himself, really. Finds himself grabbing you whenever he gets the urge. He loves the way you act embarrassed about it in public but your body always melts into it, enjoying it just as much as he does. Billy makes quick work of your panties and then grabs your thigh, angling your leg up so you’re open for him.

He smoothes his hand over your ass before rubbing his fingers against your leaking hole. A devious chuckle bordering on a moan leaves his lips as he soaks his fingers in your slick.

“Such an eager slut for me,” he purrs.

Before you can reply, he’s shoving his cock inside your pussy. A low groan escapes him and you let out a little squeal. Billy pounds into you relentlessly, rough and quick thrusts that force your eyes wide before they’re rolling back in your head. It’s an otherworldly bliss. You swear his cock was made just specifically for you; it reaches exactly how deep you need and the slight curve of it angles his tip perfectly against your g-spot. In fact, Billy’s the only person who’s ever made you climax from penetration alone. You seriously didn’t even know it was possible.

His fingernails dig into the skin of your hip as he jackrabbits into you. Your body jerks back and forth with his movements and the bed springs squeak rhythmically. He’s so rough, his face scrunches up in pleasure as he grunts with it. Billy’s pretty damn pornographic and it only makes your cunt that much more soaked, you can hear the squelch of it but it’s more arousing than disgusting. Just evidence of how carnally you want him. Billy’s hips snap against you even harder and you can’t help the loud moan erupting from you.

He grabs hold of your face and looks down at you, “Shut the fuck up. You wanna wake everyone up with that little whore mouth of yours?”

You almost want to say yes, it feels so fucking good you don’t care who hears and a part of you wants everyone to know what he can do to you. But, more than anything to want to please this man, want to be the best good girl for him so you bite your lip and try to keep it down. It’s a struggle though, the drag of his thick length against your clenching walls is excruciatingly delicious. Billy fucks you dumb, drool pooling at the corner of your lips as you meet his gaze with big, shiny eyes.

The position is a little strenuous, you’re almost on your stomach but your neck is craned up to look at him. But you don’t dare complain, can’t fathom him stopping for even a second to throw into whatever position he wants. The sound of skin slapping together is loud, he’s really fucking into you at breakneck speed. Billy’s essentially using you for his release at this point, pushing you hard into the mattress but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re more than happy to be his little fuck toy, a vessel for his pleasure. It’s so demanding yet satisfying that tears begin leaking from your eyes.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly, still holding onto your jaw, “you’re crying.”

It excites him, spurs him even further and he lowers his face down to yours. His thrusts accelerate, force even harder as he drills into your aching cunt. You can’t hold it in any longer, you let out a sob while he moans into your ear.

“Billy! Billy, Billy!” you cry out, whining and moaning. You’re clenching around his cock, it’s too much but too amazing to stop. You need this like you need air.

“Such a good girl,” he praises, moving his hand to grab at your tits. “Feels so good your crying, huh baby?”

“So fucking good,” you whine out, “Billy… gonna cum.”

He groans lowly, “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl. Give me what I want.”

You spasm around his cock, urged by his words, by the permission. It rips another sob from you, then a slew of loud moans, surely waking your roommates.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, pushing you fully into your stomach while he thrusts in and out you faster, the slick from your orgasm making it easier. He cums inside you with a guttural moan, collapsing his weight on to your back while he pants in your ear. You can’t imagine a better way to wake up.

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #request

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