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everythingharrypotterblog · 1 year

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charmed [12]: 'expecto patronum' (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: happy new year guys<3 welcome back to charmed! this part continues directly after part 8, the christmas special, as everyone at hogwarts slowly return to classes after the holiday break. may it ease your transition back to work/school for you too. as always, id love some feedback and your thoughts/ideas as this series is still v much in progression!

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

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12.

1980 flashback.

Y/N and Remus were on a cliff. Under it, were a sea of Dementors swirling, slowly making their ascent towards them.

“Y/N, stop, this mission is too dangerous! Let’s go report back to Dumbledore saying we were ambushed!” Remus cried.

Y/N shook her head, looking towards the Dementors.

“Dumbledore wanted us to talk to them, so I will!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, with that amount of them it’s no use- they’d suck your soul out.”

Y/N cried. “Don’t you see what I’m doing? I love you and you love me, but the only reason you won’t let us be together is that you’re too scared, so now I’m gonna give you something REAL to be scared about!”

“Y/N, don’t be crazy-“

With that, Remus stepped forward, clasped both of Y/N’s cheeks in his hands and kissed with her.

Y/N jerked awake. There she laid in her bed, back slightly sweaty and her blanket sliding off the left side of her body. What the fuck was that about… she thought. Getting out of bed, she went to the bathroom to pee.

Why was she dreaming about intense, dramatic, romantic declarations with Remus? Her best friend?

Deep down, she knew.

1993, present time.

“Professor Y/L/N.”

Professor McGonagall said, walking into the teacher’s lounge. It was empty except for Y/N.

“Hi, Professor McGonagall!”

“Did you have a good Christmas holiday?” Professor McGonagall said, pulling on the chair beside Y/N’s and taking a seat. She pulled out a massive package wrapped in brown paper.

“I did, I did. Very peaceful with Remus, and happy to be at Hogwarts. It’s just magical here. You?”

“Yes, very restful. Now… listen. We have a situation that would require your help and expertise, if you would be willing to participate.”

“Yes, of course, what’s going on?” Y/N quirked her eyebrow in worry, glancing down at the package McGonagall started opening up. “Wow, beautiful broom!”

“Indeed, it is the latest model. A Firebolt. Extremely rare and expensive, as you might know, and it was sent to Harry Potter.”

Y/N looked up to meet McGonagall’s gaze before she continued, “anonymously. Because of the peculiarities of his situation… and who might have sent it, I thought it’d be best to confiscate it and have you and Madam Hooch strip it down to make sure it isn’t dangerous.”

Y/N nodded, inspecting the broom carefully. “Yes, of course, I completely understand.” She dragged a hand slowly across the broomstick to feel its new varnish. “How did Harry react to it?”

McGonagall sighed slightly. “Oh you can imagine, boys. Him and Weasley seemed absolutely furious at Miss Granger, who was the one who brought this broom to my attention. I’m afraid their friendship with her is a bit rocky at the moment… although it can’t be entirely about the Firebolt. I’ve been hearing Weasley cuss out Granger’s cat often, something about him wanting to eat his rat… anyway. I’ll leave it to Madam Hooch to store, then, and you can work out with her a schedule to perform the safety tests on it?”

“Yep, that sounds good, thank you Minerva.” Y/N said, distractedly bidding McGonagall goodbye as the latter stepped out politely, glisteningly new broomstick in hand.

Y/N tried to imagine what Harry must’ve looked like when he received the Firebolt. Little did she know that the pair actually had her husband in mind for a split second.

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry's bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. "Who -?"

"I know," said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been -- Lupin!"

"What?" said Harry, now starting to laugh himself "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."

"Yeah, but he likes you," said Ron. "And he was away when your Nimbus

186

got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you --"

"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Harry. "He was ill when I was playing in that match."

"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing," said Ron. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?"

Harry frowned at Ron.

"I can't see Lupin affording something like this.”

Hogwarts really was its students, Y/N thought. The Christmas holiday had barely ended, and now with the students coming back, the monotonous uneventfulness of the winter break came to a sudden halt as well.

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like

doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their

enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. Harry was just turning over a burning piece of wood with two sticks when a few of his friends beside him said, “Hi, Professor Lupin! Professor Y/L/N!”

Harry looked up, surprised to see his Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms teachers marching down the hill towards Hagrid’s Hut. Professor Lupin was wearing his usual patchy brown winter coat, while Professor Y/L/N was in her black one, hands clad with pink mittens and neck wrapped in a thick scarf that took up half her chest.

“Hi guys!” Y/N waved merrily, stomping her boots through the snow. “Hagrid, we saw from the window you had a salamander bonfire going and started craving fire-roasted marshmallows, do you think it’d be alright?”

“We really hope we’re not disturbing in your lesson.” Remus said.

“Of course not!” Hagrid let out a large belly laugh, “the more the merrier at my lessons! Actually gang, this is a good opportunity. Everyone, let’s feed the salamanders a bit of pepper, maybe their burps will give you a good flame for your marshmallows.”

The class excitedly lined up in front of Hagrid to get a spoonful of pepper, then went looking on the ground for a nice long stick before going to Y/N and Remus for a marshmallow.

“Do NOT roast marshmallows on your wand!” Y/N cried out, tears of laughter leaking out of her eyes as she pointed to Seamus, who was about to attempt sticking his own wand on top of the flames.

“The salamanders won’t try to eat the marshmallows, will they?” A student asked.

The class, along with Remus and Y/N looked at Hagrid, who answered, “No, no, they’re not into that food. They must eat pepper to stay alive, don’t forget that.”

Once everyone managed to successfully feed a salamander pepper and get a good crispiness on their marshmallow, Hagrid called for a break so everyone can sit down on a tree stump and enjoy their snack.

The class was coming to an end, and everyone helped clean up with sticky fingers.

“I wanna feed one of the salamanders,” Y/N whispered into Remus as they stood to the side, watching Hagrid wrap up his lesson.

“Here, let’s go get some pepper.”

They snuck up on a salamander that was blissfully roasting in the fire.

“How much do I give-“

“Oh, shit-“

“Run- aH!”

Remus had clumsily overfed a salamander and it let out a heavy burp that lit a small flame on Remus’ sleeve.

“Rem, HERE, HERE! SNOW!” Y/N frantically yelled at him, all while picking up fistfuls of snow and throwing them at him in hopes to put the fire out on.

The students watch the scene unfold with hands covering their mouths, as Y/N pushed Remus onto the snow, accidentally sending herself onto the ground as well.

“Is it out, is the fire out-“ Y/N gasped for air, partially out of breath out of exhaustion, but also from the sheer pain in her ribs that came from laughing too much.

“It’s out, it’s out.” Remus panted.

“Professors,” Hagrid said, shaking his head, pulling the both of them up as if they were dolls. “Always, always feed salamanders by the spoonful.

“Right, so sorry Hagrid.”

The class left for the Castle in extremely high spirits, faces still red from how hard they laughed at Professors Y/L/N and Lupin.

“God, they’re just the best, aren’t they?”

“They’re so fucking funny each time they’re together, I can’t.”

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" Ron said to Harry as they walked down the

corridor. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?”

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been walking behind them, wrestling to zip up her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you —"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron. "Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.

"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione.

It seemed that the marshmallows were not enough to put the boys in a mood good enough to forgive their friend.

"Had a good Christmas?" Oliver Wood said as he saw Harry in the hallway, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one... I mean... we can't afford you to — well —"

Wood broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it," said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train me to ward off the dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas.”

“Oh, okay amazing!

After Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry went up to Remus’ desk.

"Ah yes," said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see... how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough.... I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this.... We can't bring a

real dementor into the castle to practice on...."

“I love Thursday evenings.” Y/N plopped down onto the bed, rubbing her eyes. “This first week back to classes has been brutal. Thank God, my Fridays are chill.”

“My Fridays,” Remus plopped down right beside her, “are not chill. I have a 1st-period class.”

Y/N laughed, rolling over to swing her arm over him.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Remus grunted, turning over onto his side to stare at her scoldingly, which only made her laugh even more.

“Very funny.”

A few moments of silence passed as their laughter died down, before Remus broke it again.

“I have to meet up with Harry to show him how to make a Patronus, you wanna come?”

“Ooh, interesting.” Y/N said with her eyes closed.

“Or you can sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“And my mouth is moving.” Y/N replied. “If I was asleep, would I be talking right now?”

Remus chuckled, leaning down to peck her on the lips. Y/N opened one eye, squinting at him.

“Okay, yes, I’d love to come. I wonder if he’ll be better at Patronuses than me, it literally took me 4 years to get one.”

“Let’s go find out.” Remus said, getting up.

“Wait, gimme another kiss.” Y/N said, pulling him back down, to which he happily obliged.

The two then walked hand in hand to the History of Magic classroom, there were no students around at this hour, separating once they neared it.

Harry was already there when they arrived, and he already lit the lamps for them.

“Hi, Harry! How are you? Do you mind if I join you guys tonight?”

“Hi, Professor Y/L/N, it’s no problem. What’s that?” Harry said, turning to the large packing case Remus was heaving onto Professor Binn’s desk.

"Another boggart," said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll

get to a real dementor. The boggart will turn into a dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like.”

"Okay," said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real dementor.

"So..." Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Harry should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry -- well beyond ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.”

"How does it work?" said Harry nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus," said Lupin, "which is a kind of anti- dementor -- a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor. The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon -- hope, happiness, the desire to survive -- but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.”"

"What does a Patronus look like?" said Harry curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.” Y/N said.

"And how do you conjure it?”

"With an incantation-“ both Remus and Y/N said at the same time.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Remus said politely to her.

“An incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.” Y/N finished.

"The incantation is this --" Lupin cleared his throat. "Expecto patronum!”

"Expecto patronum, " Harry repeated under his breath, "expecto patronum.”

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?”

"Oh -- yeah --" said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. "Expecto patrono -- no, patronum -- sorry -- expecto patronum, expecto patronum”

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!”

Y/N let out an encouraging, excited little whoop.

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then -- ready to try it on a dementor?”

Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled. A dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him —

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto —"

“Oh God-“ Y/N said as she watched Harry’s eyes roll back and his knees buckle.

She conjured a pillow with her wand just in time to cushion his head as he fell to the ground.

“Harry!"

Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again.

"Sorry," he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.

"Are you all right?" said Lupin.

"Yes..." Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

"Here --" Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.”

"It's getting worse," Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear her louder that time -- and him -- Voldemort”

Y/N exchanged a look with Lupin, who looked paler than usual.

"Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —"

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog

into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the dementors turn up at our match

against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!”

“Okay, Harry.” Y/N said slowly. “We can try again.”

Another go, another fall to the floor. This time, Remus had to tap on his face for a minute before he woke up. Tears were streaming down his face.

“Listen, Harry -- perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced.... I shouln't have suggested putting you through this…." Remus said.

"No!" said Harry. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is.... Hang on…." He turned to Y/N. “Was it this hard for you to learn this spell?”

“Oh, yes. It took me an embarassingly long time to get a Patronus, four years.”

“Why?”

“Um… it took me a while to get a memory happy enough I think.” Y/N said, glancing over at Remus.

1980.

Things had been culminating to an all-point high. Remus and Y/N were best friends, and they had waltzed around each other past the point where all their friends were teasing them about how cute they were and were now more exasperated than amused.

Remus and Y/N also knew in their hearts something had to give soon, because they had been fighting a fire that had no chance of being contained. They were both just too afraid to set it free.

Until…

“Y/N?!” Remus screamed out when he saw her.

The pair were on a hill in the outskirts of town, where a secret Portkey was placed for a mission for the Order.

“You signed up for this mission?!” Remus yelled again, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Yeah, are you okay? Why are you yelling like this?” Y/N said.

“Don’t do this. Not right now, I can’t handle this.” Remus shook his head. “You can’t go on this mission.”

Y/N took a step back incredulously, crossing her arms. “I can’t? You’re deciding that for me?”

“It’s way too fucking dangerous, this isn’t some regular Order mission, it’s going into a werewolf habitat okay- you can’t go on this one, I won’t let you.”

Y/N scoffed. “Rem, I’ll be fine.”

She took a step towards the Portkey, but felt her body get pulled away. Her eyes went to Remus’ hand, that was firmly holding her elbow back. She met his gaze.

He didn’t let go. His grip on her elbow was firm, not to the point of holding her, but tight enough for the warmness of his hand to spread along her entire arm.

“Please, Y/N, just let me go. I can’t bear to see you in danger, it’ll- it’ll.. it’ll absolutely tear my heart apart. It’ll tear me apart.”

Y/N had never seen Remus like this. His eyes were glossy.

“Rem…” Y/N whispered softly. “I’ve been in dangerous situations before-“

“No, no, it’s different now. I can’t have anything happen to you, not even the slightest risk of anything.”

Y/N blinked. Remus let go of her.

“Y/N…” Remus began, but then shook his head, cursing. He glanced at the Portkey and tried again. “My feelings… the feelings I have for you, have grown, and I’m afraid they’ve grown to a point where I-“

Y/N’s chest burned from the way she held her breath. Or maybe it was burning because this was the moment she didn’t know she was waiting for.

“I want you in my life, in-in more than just a friend way. You are the air that I breathe. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Y/N burst into happy tears.

“I’m in love with you too, Remus.”

Remus blinked away tears as the biggest expression of shock took over his face.

“You are?!” He cried.

The Portkey started shaking. It started spinning faster and faster until everything around them got caught in its stirring wind.

“Of course I am!” Y/N yelled exasperatedly. “How could you not see, of fucking course I-“

Remus pulled her to him so her chest hit his, as he crashed his lips onto hers. In this small tornado of their own, they kissed for the very first time and time stopped.

Y/N latched onto his collar, pulling him even closer. She had needed this, needed this for so long, no matter how much their lips were touching, she needed to melt into him. Remus’ arm held her tight against him, refusing to let go.

Finally, a second, a minute, a small eternity later, they broke apart. Hair messy, cheeks wet, lips bruised red. Panting, smiling.

The Portkey had left without them.

“Let’s go home.” Remus said.

“You’re my home.”

“You’re so corny,” Remus chuckled, but cupped both Y/N’s cheeks and kissed her again. That’s where his lips were meant to be.

Present time.

“Can we have another go? Just one more? Professor Y/L/N?”

“Hmm?” Y/N jerked awake from daydreaming about her fond memory. Wispy silver smoke had been leaking out from her wand. “Remus?”

“Alright…” Remus said, as if it was against his better judgement. He held onto the lid of the case. “Concentrating hard? Ready?”

Harry nodded. The Dementor rose out of it.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

He stayed on his feet this time. A huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the dementor.

"Riddikulus!" roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the dementor; he sank into a chair, clutching his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Remus and Y/N forcing the Boggart back into the case. It had turned into a silvery orb again.

"Excellent!" Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!”

“That was so good!” Y/N said, bouncing on her feet, joining them and giving Harry a clap on the back.

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?”

"Not now," said Lupin firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here --"

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

“Yeah.”

The three sat there for a small while, mostly in silence as Harry finished off his chocolate. Harry smiled to himself, sandwiched between Y/N and Remus. When he finished, he thanked them and bid them goodbye, leaving the two professors behind.

“I want one.” Y/N said abruptly, watching the door from which Harry just left.

“Oh, sorry love, I only had one bar I think-“ Remus said, patting his pockets.

“No, not chocolate,” Y/N said, this time turning her head to meet Remus’ eyes. “I want a child.”

to be continued

#remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fanfiction #charmed #professor lupin x reader #professor lupin smut

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damikun · 4 months

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Bright lights flash in your eyes, your fingers rapidly bashing buttons on your keyboard, your other hand furiously clicking your mouse. You whine as your character suddenly falls to the ground, dead.

"Ok, guys! Ok, I get it! I know I'm not that good at this game! No need to tease me!" You laugh. Inside, you're a bit peeved. These creeps aren't here for your gameplay so they better shut up. Shut up and enjoy their eye candy. You're currently streaming an online first-person shooter. You made your little hobby into a little side hustle not too long ago. Guys love watching hot people play games and it's proven to be profitable. "I'm cute? Well thank you, Mr. Husband!" This guy is a regular. Gotta give him those shout-outs he practically pays for.

As much as it hurts to deal with these weirdos, It helps with expenses. At first, you were uncomfortable with acting all sweet for your audience, but you warmed up to the idea when it started staving off homelessness. You play games dressed sexy, say sweet dumb things and the money comes pouring in.

These poor, lonely guys send you money in hopes you'll give them a crumb of attention, and you do. Sometimes, you say their names. You don't exactly care that you're taking their money at all. It's a gift! It's not like you forced them to give you money, nor did you even ask. They just want a chance to get in your pants and you're not gonna stop them from dreaming. You can't count the number of times people in the chat have asked if you have an onlyfans.

You'd never, of course, date one of these pigs. You imagine your viewers are filthy, slimy, greasy and would cum in their pants at just seeing you in person. Their whole body is probably sticky to the touch and shower maybe once a month they probably have piss filled mountain dew bottles on the floor next to their pc and cum stains on their seat. You're pretty sure a few guys in the comments are jerking off as you stream this very second.

A few times, you've received ominous messages in the comments from different users, almost threatening you for some ridiculous problem they have with you. How you play, what you're wearing, or just your face, so you make sure to always hide your location and are very vague about your personal life. You're used to them being weird, saying things about what they'd do to you if they were alone with yo- Just have to learn to ignore it. You calm yourself down.

"Well, that's enough for today, I'm getting sleepy! It was nice playing with you today. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, love you!" You blow a kiss at the camera. You see people commenting their 'i love you too's and whining about how you could stay a bit longer' in the chat before you disconnect. You made $540 from that two-hour stream. You received most of it from the same person. Mr.Husband. Not one minute after closing the stream, you get a message. You thought you disabled direct messages? You notice that it's to your personal account that's open on another tab from an unnamed account. No bio, no profile picture.

New user: Hey

New user: Do you want to meet up sometime? For coffee?

You: Who's this?

New user: I'm Damian. You can get to know me when we get coffee.

You: Uh no? How the fuck do you know me?

New user: I love your streams, pretty. Drop the fucking attitude before you piss me off. I knew you'd be more of a bitch off-camera. You just look too good to be good hearted. You have to be taught obedience. You're lucky I care about you so much.

You: Keep your tiny prick away from me. I never want to see you in my presence. Disgusting. Ugly pig. Do me a favor and never ever leave your dirty cave. Go fuck yourself

New user: Wanna watch?

*New user has now been blocked*

You stand up and walk away from your computer. how the fuck did he find your actual account? You don't even have your real name anywhere. You start to undress, not noticing your computer's camera has flicked on again.

In a dark room, a man fists his massive cock slowly, eyes trailing up and down his obsession through the screen. His mind is filled with all the things he wants to do to a little cock tease like you. Ruin you, break you, crush you under his weight, teach you a lesson for whoring yourself out. A cute treat like you should have better manners "Pig...tiny prick. Ah, I can't let you just say those things to your husband." he watches as you slide your underwear down, eyes zeroing in on the crevice between your thighs as you bend over. He shudders as hot cum coats his chest and thighs, continuing to roll down his cock in fat globs. – Two days later, you're walking back home from a late shift at the cafe. You plan to stream when you get home.

Something is watching you.

Cold sweat dribbles down the back of your neck. You shiver, the cold night air doing nothing to calm you. You can feel eyes drilling holes into your back. You picked up your pace, your eyes darting all around. Who is it? What do they want? You think you can hear footsteps not far away. They're getting closer. You break into a sprint and make it to Danube street before you're tackled to the ground. All air is pushed from your lungs, depleting you of oxygen. You do your best to fight against your unseen attacker, but they're far too strong. You try to scream, but only a wheeze comes out. The man roughly picks you up like a sack of potatoes under his arm and carries you into a van nearby, hitting your head on the cold metal ground. And as your vision fades to black, you know that you will know no more of the world. – You wake up as he throws you to the ground, trying to adjust to your surroundings in the dim light, and getting the first look at his face. He’s good looking but the expression in his eyes strikes fear in your heart. Fury is the only word you can think of to describe it. You tried to scramble away, but he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him. You scream and flail your limbs wildly, trying to get him the fuck off of you. You hear a crack and before you realize what happened, your cheek is burning. "Shut." Smack "The." Smack "Fuck." Smack "Up." He's seething by the end. Your head was knocked back into the ground by the last hit. A dribble of blood runs down your nose, your cheeks completely red and moderately swollen. You're no longer trying to fight him, head far too foggy to do anything but lay there in pain.

"I'm sorry, baby." He huffs, calming down a bit. "Don't fight me and that won't have to happen again." He wiped at the blood on your face with his thumb, cradling your cheek. A blush creeps over his face along with a deranged smile as he stares down at you with his unblinking eyes. "You're just so perfect. Everything." You feel a bulge forming atop you where he's straddled. He pants heavily as he looks you up and down. Hot tears slip down your swollen cheeks at the realization that you can't get yourself out of this one.

You lie completely still as he palms his crotch in front of you. "I...I'm Damian...you said I have a small prick, … That wasn't very nice. You should say things like that to your husband." You stare at him in awe...it's..the guy from the chat. Did he find you? He's crazy. He's insane. He's gonna kill you. Your chest heaves up and down uncontrollably. You feel blood rushing to your ears, feeling the most fear you've ever felt in your entire life. He takes notice of your panic attack and tries to calm you. "H-hey! Shhh, it's ok, just breathe!" You don't hear a word he's saying and thrash wildly again. Your legs kick underneath him, but his body doesn't budge an inch.

You freeze when you feel his lips smash onto yours. He grabs your wrists in one hand above your head, effectively immobilizing you. It feels like he's trying to eat you, no longer caring about your little tantrum. "Just stay still." He mutters as his large hands roam up and down your body like he's waited his life for this moment. You feel his ever growing bulge rub against your stomach. He grabs your hands before you could try to fight him again.

"...You know...I've been giving you my good money. All because I knew how hard it was to live on your own. But now you're here with me. You'll be my personal house whore." You feel his breath hit your cheek. "Please...let me go. I didn't do anything to you!" You're full on sobbing at this point and to your horror, you feel his cock twitch against you.

"Oh fuck! Keep crying for me like that, baby." He's clawing your pants. Your eyes dart around the room for anything that can help you, but your blood runs cold when you just see hundreds of photos of you plastered all over his walls, some even on his ceiling. You hear a loud tear. In one movement, he’s managed to rip your pants and underwear to shred, leaving a gaping home over you cunt.

You're a shaking mess as he cups it in his hand. "D-Damian, please!" You cry, trying to appeal to his humanity. "Say my name again." He demanded. His fingers rim around your hole, threatening to dive in. You quiver at the feeling. He unzipped his pants and you feel something impossibly large, heavy and hot slam onto your stomach with a thud.

He releases you momentarily and moves himself lower on your body, his head between your legs. His arms circle around your thighs in a vice grip. He takes a strong whiff and lets out a moan. You feel his tongue slide up and down your pussy as his fingers tease your hole before dipping half a finger in. You're too dry, it hurts! You whine and struggle, uncomfortable. His finger dips all the way in, uncaring for your pleasure. You scream as he continues to thrust his finger inside you as his mouth engulfs your clit. He removes his finger and lifts himself off you. You sigh in relief.

That relief dies as you feel his thick cock push at your hole. He begins to push in, but your hole resists. It's too big. He lets out a sound of annoyance before spitting on his hand and rubbing the liquid up and down his cock. It does little to help aid in his entrance. "This may hurt a bit…a lot actually." His wicked grin stretches across his face before he rears his hips back and forces his cock through. You let out a blood curdling scream he rips through your insides. He's only halfway in, your walls desperately trying to push him back out. He holds onto your waist and pulls you into him, bottoming out. You feel like you're bleeding, but you're too afraid to look down.

You can hardly breathe. His cock feels like it's in your stomach. Your body twitches, hot tears slipping past the corners of your eyes as you wheeze out please for mercy. He only looks down at you in awe at your beauty. "Oh, you're so cute like this! I knew you could take it! I know it hurts now, but just give it time." His thumb rubs at your tears. There's nothing you can do to get out of this. You feel completely helpless.He pulls himself out, and slowly goes back in, groaning. "Fuck, you're so tight" he grunts. You close your eyes and hear a flash. Your eyes snap open to see he's holding a camera. A blinding light fills your vision along with a 'click'. This sick fuck.

You let out an involuntary moan when he shoves himself into you at just the right angle. He presses himself deep inside you, holding himself there, his cock hugging your sweet spot. He chants your name like a mantra at each thrust, but you can barely hear him. All you can do is feel him. Hurt hurts so bad but feels equally as good.

You can't help but let little sounds of pain and pleasure spill from your lips as his hips ram into yours. You look up to see his eyes are completely rolled back. His lips press wet kisses to your cheek. You feel a knot start to build in your lower stomach without your consent and you feel yourself lift onto cloud nine. "Cum for me! Cum for your husband!" He moans. You feel shame and pleasure wash over you as you do just that. You clench around him, his breath hitches in his throat at the feeling. He slams into you harder and harder. The over stimulation is killing you now. It's too much!

You think he might break something inside you, you think his dick might knock your brain out of your skull with how hard he's pounding. You feel like your organs will never be the same. "Gonna get you pregnant, gonna breed you again and again. Gonna have my babies. We'll be great parents!" His muttering awakens what's left of the fight in you. "Ah! N-no, stop! I-I can't!" His hand slams over your mouth, his bottomless brown eyes staring directly into yours. He lifts your legs up and puts them over his shoulders in a tight mating press.

He hits your special spot and your eyes roll back. He can reach far deeper like this. He slams into you with one final thrust, pressing into you with his full weight. You can't breathe. The over stimulation finally comes for you and you cum all over his cock again. You feel his cock twitch before unloading what seems to be an endless supply of semen into you. You can almost hear the wet sound of him cumming inside you. Your lower stomach rises by the sheer volume of cum produced. You wonder if he used to be a bull at Remy's farm or something. That thought quickly vanishes along with your whole mind as your brain is unable to produce anymore thoughts.

With a satisfied sigh, he pulls his slipping wet cock out of you, a rush of lightly pink cum following after, quickly stopping when he plugs you up with a small plug. His cock isn't even fully soft. You pray he doesn't decide he wants a round two. "That wasn't so bad, now was it? You were crying for nothing." He pants. He kisses your temple before picking you up by your waist, once again like a sack of potatoes in one arm. He walks over to a mattress on the floor and drops you on it, your body softly bouncing on top before settling in a heap. He had a mattress the whole time and still fucked you on the cold, dirty cement floor!? You hear a click and see he's chained your right angle to the wall. He smiles at you and pecks you on the lips the way a husband would before leaving to work. His mood did a 180. He's so very cheerful, his handsome face cheerfully grinning down at you like you're a cute little kitten.

"You did really well today, my love. I'll be back tomorrow. You won't get dinner tonight because you fought me so much, but you'll learn to behave. I want to treat you better, so please be good for me. Goodnight." With that, your new 'husband' stands up to his full height and walks upstairs, leaving you in the cold pitch darkness of the basement.

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blametheeditor · 1 year

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Jeremy Messed Up: Chapter 4

NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES

The Sequel To Mike Messed Up

First | Previous | Next

Mike was just a night guard waiting to be killed by the end of the week. Now, he is the proud, and soon to be sole owner, of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Business is booming, animatronics are teeming with life, and Foxy is back in the spotlight after so many years. Even so, the dark past of Freddy's is slowly encroaching upon them. One with more ties than they could ever imagine.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and murder, want to harm someone, cursing (lots of cursing), mentions of tracking someone down. Mentions of teasing about being in a relationship when not.

I didn’t queue this last minute nooooooo

___________________________

"SHHHHHHHH!"

Mike should've tried to defend himself. Reacted like anyone would when someone unknown and potentially dangerous goes and lunges at him. At least jump instead of take a single step back.

Hell, he could've yelled for the animatronics. As much as he's pissed off about Henry, and them knowing he was throwing a tantrum from it, as many times as he gets angry or frustrated, getting on their nerves at times like everyone does, they would never let him get hurt. He still trusts them. And they're more than ready to rip someone's head off to make sure he stays safe.

Yet, there's no weapon. No yank at his arms before something secures his wrists together. Not even the smug look of 'it's over'.

Nope! His massive fuck up of not using his well calibrated instincts ingrained into him from getting 'hunted down' by murderous robots, the reliance he has on them making his life exciting and fulfilled, not even listening the logical side screaming to get away?

Turns out they just wanted to put a hand over his mouth. Both their hands. His head isn't held to make sure he can't jerk away and scream for help.

...well then.

Is he relieved? Yes. Is he a dumbass? Yes. Is this kid actually a young man looking as scared as Mike should be?

Also yes. What the hell?

Blue orbs meet panicked greys shinning with unshed tears. While he's scrutinized though, there's no other reaction. To make sure the slightly taller can't actually do anything to get out of the truly odd situation. Or the guy at least glancing at the doors hoping to get away before someone comes to check on the severe lack of angered screaming the new restaurant owner is famous for doing.

Looks like they're both idiots today.

"Mmm mmm mmmm mmm mmm?"

Mike huffs as he stays in place to have his 'who the hell are you' question to come out as muffled as it does, knowing he can and should simply step away. But he doesn't.

"D-Don't call the animatronics," is pleaded. Coming out weak and almost raspy. A voice of terror the slightly taller knows personally. How he sounded after finding out he was supposed to die, with Freddy not helping after holding him down with a yell. The dust and sweat coating slightly scraped cheeks certainly completes the look.

A moment passes to show the long process of contemplation. Not A Criminal immediately brightens as a nod is finally earned, relaxing as the hands are removed.

And then Mike takes a deep breath in preparation to yell.

The strangled yell as the kid leaps forward to stop him has a fit of laughter become muffled. The older gently bats away the unnecessary limbs to properly display his snickers to the betrayed expression, watching to make sure there's no true fear from the prank. Even though someone came into the employee's only section. "I trusted you!"

"I didn't call them," Mike quickly amends, hands held up to state yes, it was a dick move. No matter what the kid wouldn't get hurt, though. Be traumatized from the four after getting placed outside and politely told not to ever come back potentially.

To be honest, his opponent can't be more than eighteen years old. If he wasn't the person who fixed Foxy, upgraded them all, and kicked the asshole running the restaurant out to give them a fulfilled life being there for kids like they deserve, the technical intruder would've earned cake instead of a statement of no longer being welcomed.

The pout of an ally making him think he'll get in trouble only confirms Mike's first assumption this is a kid. Complete with brown curls that bounce with every movement. The face that should be perceived as handsome is too soft. The look being given is one the restaurant owner's seen kids have whenever they're caught stealing a bite of their parent's pizza. Definitely not someone who really should be worried about authorities being called with the assumption an idiot was trying to rob the cash registers that were up front and clearly being used.

What the fuck was he even doing?

Mike glances back at his desk, eyeing Cookie Thief with a raised eyebrow. "So, just a thought here, why were you under my desk?"

"W-Well the back room was worse!" is exclaimed. "I took one step inside and I couldn't breathe cause it smelled like death!"

Well guess who's gone nose blind...

The older nods his head seriously, because that's certainly a reason not to hide there. And if it didn't once house rotting corpses, the numerous heads staring down at you might've been a reason. He definitely understands it.

"Mhmm. Follow up question, then. Why were you hiding?"

The kid's mouth shuts with an audible clack, shoulders bunched forward as if waiting for some kind of attack. Those grey eyes lock onto the space an admittedly tight squeeze, despite how skinny he is. Mike's only an inch taller, and height alone makes hunching down that far nearly impossible.

Desperation had Not A Criminal come back here.

Mike straightens up at the realization the guy was trying to escape. That's the only reason he needs to hit the buttons to the doors.

The animatronics know not to question it. They've been told the reinforced steel will only be used in emergencies. Child in trouble, an adult, a family. One of the four will be here in a moment while everyone else in the restaurant is watched much closely. The person may or may not have trespassed, but someone in trouble would never be left to fend for themselves.

The small and panicked scream doesn't ease Mike's worries. The flinch from him placing a hand on the kid's shoulder is respectfully heeded. He waits until realization dawns from the fact they're completely alone. Nothing can get inside, including the animatronics that were terrified of.

"Is someone following you?"

"YES!" and someone's getting stuffed today. "Well...n-no."

...the fuck?

"N-Not someone!" he amends, visibly shaking, panicking at the thought Mike will turn away. "But they're following me! I-I lost my tools, my dad's, and she's going to be so mad-d, but I had to, an-nd-!"

The older catches the hands flailing about and making wonderful air-art, pulling them to the center his chest. Standing as close as they are, what he originally thought as dust from hiding with cobwebs reveals itself to be dirt with a long scratch trailing from chin to ear. Mud plastered into the fluffy curls.

The kid looks like he's been through hell. "You look like shit."

"H-Hey-!"

Mike turns them around so the East Hallway is behind him. Elbowing the door button, Chica is revealed, given both a giant smile, and a strangled scream from Would Be Robber. Only the best at Fazbear's!

"Chica-Chee! You mind grabbing the first-aid kit?"

"DON'T LET IT IN!"

"On it, Mike!"

A smile is sent toward his secretly favorite SUCK IT, BONNIE! With the chicken gone, his patient is carefully shoved into the wheeling chair miraculously having landed right-side up after getting thrown. And with that they're back in the office. Doors closed and waiting patiently for back up, the restaurant owner sitting on the desk with his glorious throne currently being used.

"Alright, ground rules Parts And Nervous."

"I'm not-!"

"Chica-Chee is a she," Mike gently interrupts. "Fuckbear, Foxy, and the pain in my ass named Bonnie are he's. Not its, they don't deserve your shit. Second, they'll make sure nothing gets to you while you're in my restaurant."

He doesn't think it's his imagination the already pale tone turns white as a ghost. "Y-Y-Y-Your restaurant?"

"Just got the official title after Mr. Fucker ditched."

The kid gives him a confused but hopeful look, meaning he's doing something right.

"Any questions, comments, or concerns?"

"I think you can-n assume I do," is sassed, and they're going to be best friends by the end of this. The underlying terror is substantially gone, what looks like bleeding knees behind the ripped-up jeans is finally spotted, but they can talk about that.

Mike knows he really should've been more cautious. There's a stranger locked inside a space not even big enough for two people. The guy could be a wanted criminal who hasn't been caught because he's so goddamn adorable.

But to hell with good decisions! By now, he should just invite William Afton himself and see how things go. For now, someone's asked for protection from something.

He'd be lying if he wasn't as curious as he is worried about what the fuck happened to the poor kid.

"What if we trade off? I ask a question, you ask one?"

For the first time, true distrust appears as grey eyes narrow.

"Hey, you hid under my desk!"

"We're allowed to skip."

Mike offers his hand to shake on it. A smile appears as it's quickly taken.

A yelp emits when a knock announces a rather unimpressed Freddy clearly having heard about how Cake Snatcher was introduced.

"Care to share, Michael?"

"My boyfriend and I need five more minutes."

"Your- I AM NOT!"

#again #to reiterate #did NOT queue this last minute #nu uh never happened #:D #but HAHA #also Happy Holidays!#hope ya'll had a good one!#semi-older writing #FNAF #Jeremy Messed Up #BTE writing #cw: gore #conent warning

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abelle25125 · 2 years

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i think every interaction between luz and hunter in the finale and COTH gets infinitely funnier when you remember that this is literally the 4th time they’ve ever met in person

#i feel like people forget this a lot but just --- based on what we know in cannon they have meet a grand total of 4 times irl #imagine meeting this guy and hes a massive jerk to you - and then the next time you meet him you save his life and have a heart to heart #and then the thrid time you meet him you get trapped in his 'uncle's' mind and discover the fact that he's secretly a clone of a dead guy #and not technically real #and then he vanishes and the next time you meet him he helps you rescue your girl friend #and you also briefly steal his identity so you can be kidnapped by a government official #like wow #toh #the owl house spoilers #toh hunter #luz noceda

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

#sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

talent that runs in the family ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2128

request?: yes!

“Being rooks sister and substitute him while he recovers and slowly start to fall in love with colson”

description: she steps in to replace her brother when he is seriously injured and ends up gaining feelings for his friend

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Thanks so much for doing this (Y/N),” Rook said over the phone. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “But does Colson know that I’m...y’know...not a seasoned vet?”

“You’ll do fine.”

I refrained from reminding him that he didn’t actually answer my question.

After Rook’s accident left him out of commission for some time, he came to me to ask if I’d fill in for him. I jumped at the opportunity. Rook had taught me how to drum when I was young and, much like my big brother, it became a passion of mine. How could I turn down working with one of the biggest artists of the year, even if it were just for a short while?

Well, my nerves were definitely telling me I should’ve said no as I walked into soundcheck that day.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll call you after the soundcheck.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous. You’re gonna do great.”

I said my goodbyes and hung up. I tried not to focus on how big the venue we were playing in was as I made my way to the otherwise empty stage. I thought I was the first person to arrive until I heard someone calling my name.

“(Y/N), up here!”

I looked up to see the guys sat in a booth in the balcony. Colson was all but leaning over the railing, waving for me to join them. I had no idea how to get up there on my own, but luckily a security guard showed me the way.

The guys were eating pizza and drinking from plastic cups as if they were the ones attending the concert and not performing in it.

“Pre-show ritual,” Colson told me. “Especially when we have someone new joining the band. Sit! Have a slice!”

“Shouldn’t we be practicing?” I asked, but still sat with them. I didn’t want to completely mess up my first day.

“We have hours to practice,” one of the other guys I remembered as Slim said. “And we don’t really need to. We do this every night. A soundcheck is basically just to make sure everything is working tech wise.”

I just nodded, not wanting to point out that I hadn’t been doing this every night. I hoped that I’d have some time to figure out the songs before the shows.

Colson nudged me, bringing my attention to him. “Don’t stress. You’ll do great.”

I smiled at him, wishing I’d believe him.

After our small feast of pizza and beer in plastic glasses, we finally got to our soundcheck. I was so nervous that I kept messing up during the first song. My hands were shaking and I kept hitting the wrong drum by accident. My face was burning with embarrassment as I buried it in my hands and groaned.

Colson walked up to me, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I can get this, I know I can.”

“I know you can, too,” he said. “Just take a breath, relax. We’ll try again when you’re ready. And remember, it’s just drumming. Rook says you’re great at it.”

I smiled at him and nodded. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I pictured myself back in my bedroom from my childhood, playing my drums super loud until my parents had to call out for me to keep it down.

When we started practicing again, it went off without a hitch. We did most of the setlist all the way through and did quick takes on the last few songs before our time was up.

I was proud of myself as the soundcheck came to an end. I was still nervous about performing during the actual show, but I felt confident enough in myself not to make too many noticeable mistakes when we actually had an audience that night.

I was walking to my car when I heard someone calling for me. I turned to see Colson running to catch up with me. Or rather he was taking long strides to catch up with me considering he was so tall.

“I told you you would do great!” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “It’s like drumming runs in your blood or something.”

I chuckled. “That’s what mom and dad always said too, but neither one of them can keep a beat to save their lives and no one else in our immediate family plays either.”

“You and Rook are the start of a long line of drummers then I guess.”

I shrugged in response. We both stood awkwardly for a moment. I wasn’t sure what else to say. His arm was still around my shoulder and I didn’t want to pull away and make it seem like I didn’t enjoy the contact because I definitely was not complaining about it.

I guess Colson also realized that he was still touching me, though, because he pulled his arm away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you need a run to the hotel or anything?” he asked. “We have the tour bus.”

I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks. I have my car, and besides I haven’t even checked into the hotel yet so I should probably go do that.”

“Oh, yeah you definitely should. Get some rest before the show, too. It’s a lot more physically demanding when it’s an actual show, even if you’re just sitting at a drum set the entire time. I’ll see you tonight then I guess.” He turned to walk away, but paused and turned back to add, “What were you planning on wearing tonight?”

I looked at him, confused. “Uh...this I guess.”

I was wearing a hoodie and a pair baggy jeans and my most comfortable pair of sneakers.

Colson raised an eyebrow at my outfit before looking back up at me. “I mean, it’s definitely comfy, but I would recommend something a little less...well, just less. It’s going to be hot as fuck on that stage, especially with all the lights on you and shit.”

I nodded, taking note of this as I got into my car and internally panicked a little because I didn’t know if I even had anything to wear.

~~~~~~

A few hours later, after checking into my hotel room and promptly wrecking it by throwing my clothes everywhere, I was heading back down to the lobby to meet up with the guys. We were going to the show together, which would’ve been my first tour bus ride. I couldn’t lie, I was super stoked for it.

I was the last one to the lobby. All the guys were stood around, loudly talking to one another. You’d think they were just a normal group of guys and not a group about to play a sold out show in a massive arena.

Colson spotted me first. I smiled at waved at him. His eyes widened and his jaw basically dropped, which prompted all the guys to turn. Their reactions immediately matched his as they looked me up and down.

“Rook would kill you guys if he could see you right now,” I teased.

“Damn (Y/N),” Colson dared to say first. “You look...you look hot as fuck.”

I had decided on a loose muscle shirt with a bralette underneath since the shirt showed a little more than what I was used to, a pair of ripped skinny jeans, and kept on the comfortable sneakers I had been wearing earlier that day.

I giggled. “Thanks, but again, Rook would kill you for saying that. Also, it’s not anything super attractive.”

“You got a nice body,” Baze pointed out. “Anything showing it off even a little is hot.”

I could feel my face burning as I waved their comments away. “Okay, enough with this. We have a show to get to.”

We boarded the tour bus and started towards the arena. The guys were distracted amongst one another again, completely forgetting about me and my “hot outfit”. Besides Colson, who had come to sit next to me on the couch while the rest of the guys were already drinking whatever was in the mini fridge.

“Do you guys always get drunk before your shows?” I asked.

“Not always. Usually we get high,” Colson responded.

“Now that I can get behind. I’ll probably be less afraid if I’m high.”

Colson held out the joint in his hand to me. I took it and took a quick puff, the smoke immediately burning my throat and lungs as I tried to inhale it. Colson laughed as I started to cough.

“I still say you have nothing to worry about,” he told me. “You’re gonna do great tonight. You can’t even really see or hear the audience with all the lights and the inner ear pieces.”

“That’s even worse cause then I’ll just imagine how big the audience is.”

He put a hand on my leg, something I assume was just instinct for him to do to comfort someone, but the minute he made the contact I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. Colson quickly pulled his hand away and I wondered if he had felt that too.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” he said.

“You can if you want,” I assured him. “I wasn’t mad about it or anything.”

Colson looked at me and I realized how blue his eyes were. Rook had always made jokes about how Colson could seduce any woman with just his eyes because they were such baby blues, but I didn’t really believe him until the moment I was looking in them myself. Now I was lost, completely forgetting everyone around me as I felt myself moving closer towards him.

The bus jerked to a stop, causing Colson and I to nearly be thrown from our seats. The guys started off the bus first, running towards the entrance to the arena as I could hear the waiting fans screaming outside.

Colson stood and offered a hand to me. “It’s showtime.”

~~~~~~

After the first song went perfectly, I stopped feeling nervous. Colson was right, I couldn’t see the audience in front of me, but I could faintly hear their screams of excitement over my inner ear piece. It was weird to have it in and not only hear all of us playing, but also the crew talking backstage. It was almost distracting, but it became easy to tune them out.

During one of Colson’s talking points in the show, I reached for my water bottle to take a sip. Colson was hyping the audience up, which made me smile a little.

“Before we continue the show,” he said into his mic, “you guys may have noticed that we do not have our regular drummer tonight.”

I immediately knew what he was about to do and I wanted to hurtle my drumstick at him before he went there.

“As you’ve probably heard, Rook was in a bit of an accident and is off recovering for the time being,” he continued. “So, we decided to get some family to fill in for him for the time being. Everyone, I want to hear y’all make some noise for Rook’s little sister, (Y/N)!”

The crowd cheered loudly. Colson turned to me and waved for me to stand. I glared at him, which I hoped he could see, before standing and awkwardly smiling and waving at the audience.

“All the cool drum shit you guys have been hearing all night has been (Y/N),” Colson said as he started to approach me. “She’s a bad ass fucking drummer, and she’s a pretty fucking cool chick, too.”

I was confused where he was going with this as he came to stand next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder the way he had earlier that day after soundcheck.

“Which is why, (Y/N), I gotta ask: will you go on a date with me sometime?”

Slight embarrassment was swelling somewhere inside of me at being asked out in such a public way, but that embarrassment was overshadowed by the fuzzy feeling of excitement inside of me. I looked up at Colson, my eyes wide and a smile on my lips.

He lowered the mic so he could privately add, “I’m being serious. I wanna take you out on a real date. Just the two of us.”

My words were stuck in my throat, but I was able to nod in response. The smile on Colson’s face stretched so wide that I could’ve been convinced he was the one lighting the show.

“Okay,” he said, then lifted the mic to say to his audience, “Let’s get back to the show guys!”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #imagine #request #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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steviespanties · 3 years

Note

I have a whore knee thought but I’m afraid to write it myself so I thought I’d send it here, if it catches your fancy. Love your work!

Omega!Steve always had a hard time getting turned on when he was with other alphas. His body just wasn’t into it, but with Billy he’s always ridiculously wet and ready. Everything about his alpha—Billy’s scent, his command, his fervor—keeps Steve loose and pliant.

sdfGHJ I LOVEE it!!!!!!!😍💗💗💗😳 Thank you for sharing this with me, it’s *chefs kiss* amazing!! (1,5k words. omegaverse smut, obviously. vague descriptions of unsatisfying drunk - but consensual- sex. pants being ruined. something something fated pairs. sorry for the lack of editing!!)

So, Steve’s a horny guy, okay? Always has been and has never made a secret of it. His friends know. Most of the school knows. Sure, he’ll pretend for his parents that he’s a good ol’ Christian boy who goes to church every Sunday and totally doesn’t sneak out to parties to get dicked down by eager alphas any other day of the week. It’s just also always been frustrating.

His selection in Hawkins leaves much to be desired, with smug alphas who think just having a knot makes them God’s gift to humanity and simply whipping their dicks out will get Steve gushing wet immediately. They’re lucky his libido overrules his endless disappointment. No time spent on working him up, alcohol dulling his senses to make the ache he feels less uncomfortable. It’s not bad. It’s not really good, either.

There’s an itch underneath his skin, a formless desire for more that never takes shape no matter how often he tries. He’s a spring coiled tight and no matter who he lets between his legs, he can’t bring himself to unwind. He lets fucking Brody from the baseball team plow him into the guest bed at a post-game party and even the tiny sparks of pleasure brushing his insides can’t make his back muscles unclench or his hole more wet. There’s just pathetic grunts coming from above him. The sting of a hand slapping against his asscheek and a huffed “make some noise, will ya?”

Yeah, no. He gets up instead. Ignores Brody’s halfhearted protests as he tugs up his pants and throws him an icy glare that makes the guy sputter and shut up. Pathetic.

It takes time, he thinks. Time to get him loose and trusting. Effort, too, to make him want to bow his back and present himself. Steve hates to sound like his mom, but when he jerks off later that night with a hand around his dick and three fingers in his wet hole, imagining a formless someone to sweep in and fill him up, he thinks ‘there’s just no quality alphas in this town’.

And then Billy Hargrove rolls into Hawkins, stinking of cigarette smoke, fucking Aqua Net and perfume and underneath it all? Jesus fucking Christ. A cloud of pheromones so strong and fragrant, it makes Steve drool a little just from catching a whiff of it in the hallways. They haven’t even talked yet and he already feels a hook in him. Right next to that itch. Closer than ever before to scratching it. He wants, more than he has ever wanted before, to get this guy’s scent on his skin. Wants to drip with the guy’s come. And, to his massive surprise, underneath that raging storm of pure instinctual lust, there’s simply interest. He feels like a dog with his ears perked up and his snout in the wind. He’s on the chase.

If Steve has learned one thing, though, is that if he really, desperately wants something, he has to pursue it carefully. And nothing is more of a siren-song to alphas than an interested, yet reserved omega. So he’s not among the welcoming committee of fawning followers at Billy’s heels. He counts on them to fill the guy in on all the gossip. Walks by close enough in the hallway to get a whiff of Steve walking by. Feels those ocean blue eyes burning holes into the back of his head by the end of the day, just like he anticipated. Of course, it blows in his face within hours.

He’s not even properly buzzed at Tina’s Halloween party, too busy to keep Nancy away from getting shitfaced while they wait for Jonathan to pick her up. He swallows his frustration. This was supposed to be his opportunity to leave a lasting impression and instead he’s stuck babysitting his ex because she can’t hold her liquor.

And then he sees him. He takes one look at Billy Hargrove and even from across the room, clearly stalking towards him through a crowd of dancing people Steve can tell: The guy is trouble.

In his periphery, he registers Jonathan swooping in and dragging Nancy off. Registers the cheers of people around them. Hears through the pulsing music “Harrington, right?” and his mouth says “Steve, actually.”

Hargrove leans forward. Close. Closer. Right into his space, stinking of beer and smoke and that irresistible hook underneath that pulls Steve’s body over a precipice he knows he’s crossed when he watches Billy’s pupils blow up and his chest move in the most unsubtle scenting he’s ever seen.

A heavy arm wraps around Steve’s shoulder and with a decisive pull, he’s flush against the warm, firm side of- “Billy,” is purred into his ear. Breath on his sensitive skin that makes him shudder and warmth pool in his belly. His arm winds around Billy’s waist and he realizes in that moment that any resemblance of a plan has flown out of the window. He’s putty.

“I’ve already heard so much about you,” Billy grins. There’s a wild edge to his smile. A mischievous spark in his voice and eyes that sinks the hook even deeper. Steve can’t help but smile back.

“Of course you have.” As they talk, Billy steers him through a room filled with eyes glued to their every move. It’s a familiar feeling- being the center of attention, even when people desperately try to play it cool. Letting the curiosity and jealousy pearl off his skin like drops of water, an entire audience to Steve being felt up and led around and held close throughout the evening with no resistance from him.

He’s just hungry. Watches Billy drink beer from a can and lick his lips with a pink tongue. Feels Billy’s hands firmly grip his hips as they dance and his eyes on Steve’s as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. It’s impossible to escape Billy’s scent, growing stronger the more he sweats. Becoming overwhelming when he tucks that strand of hair behind Steve’s ear for him and brushes his scent gland in such a deliberately soft motion it makes that pool of warmth in Steve’s belly transform into molten heat and a shocking pulse of slick. Right in his pants.

Billy’s eyes are wide, expression stunned. This isn’t how it normally goes, Steve wants to tell him through his embarrassment. Breathes more of Billy in and hears “Let’s get out of here” instead of a leer or an insult.

Steve knows he’s easy, okay? He’s been searching for someone in this town to make it worth his while and it’s been a disappointing search so far. So even when Billy pushes him into the backseat of his car, tugs his pants down and peels Steve’s soaked briefs off his legs, he still wonders if this will be a fluke. Right up until Billy’s heavy body covers him and their lips and tongues meet in a slick, delicious glide and his hole pulses slick right onto the car seat.

Before he can even settle into pure mortification, there’s that purr again. “Holy shit,” Billy says. Wondering. Delighted. A gloved hand glides over Steve’s skin. Up the inside of his thigh, to his hole where he’s more sensitive and swollen and wet than he’s ever been before for an alpha. Steve gasps. “Open your legs,” he’s told. And he does. Gets an appreciative “Just like that” in return that makes his arms break out into goosebumps.

Maybe it doesn’t take time at all, he thinks dazedly as he watches Billy pull off his gloves and glide a finger into his pulsing hole with such confidence and ease, it makes Steve moan immediately. Maybe all it takes is an alpha with a California tan and a wicked laugh that makes Steve want to smile along. The kinda guy who drags him around a party and never lets him go, who can’t stop petting Steve’s side and his hair.

And maybe, he thinks deliriously as sweat rolls down his back and the slick glide of Billy’s cock has turned into loud squelching on every powerful thrust that makes Steve gush onto the seats, maybe it does take trust. Because Billy looks at him. He scents Steve like he can’t help it, leans down to steal breathless kisses between moans like he needs every bit of contact just as desperately as Steve does.

‘He has freckles,’ Steve thinks incoherently as his dick twitches in Billy’s grip. Once, twice. Another time, right as Billy’s knot catches, locks them together in perfect pressure and everything falls apart in white-hot pleasure that spills over Steve’s body and out of him in ropes of come over his belly. Billy bends forward when he comes. Like he can’t get close enough even when they’re locked together, a twitching, moaning weight on top of Steve’s fucked out body.

They bask in the afterglow for a long time. Steve pets Billy’s head, curls turned soft from a night of constant movement and sweat. There’s no need to get off this ride. Not when that itch has finally been scratched and one look at Billy’s blissed out face tells him that the hook he’s felt under his own skin has worked itself under Billy’s as well.

#omegaverse #omega!Steve #alpha!Billy #passivenovember #asks #harringrove #this got longer than expected?? and is also a lot more build up to the sex than expected??#look. look. i really love the whole fated pairs kinda stuff in omegaverse!!#it's like soulmates adjacent!! it's sexy AND romantic!!!!#they're gonna fuck it out and then they'll wake up in bed ten years later in their shared apartment and realize they're so fucking happy

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

#bnha 310 #midoriya izuku #ofa prime #ofa ii #bakugou katsuki #MAYBE???#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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catboybinnie · 3 years

Photo

first date ━ seo changbin.

summary: part of the first date collection. on your way home from work, florist!reader notices changbin smoking a joint on his fire escape, and decides to ask for some. what ensues is an unexpected first date.

pairing | seo changbin x fem!reader

genre | alternate universe (non idol au), fluff & smut

wordcount | 4.7k

warnings | marijuana use, sex while under the influence of marijuana, oral (f receiving), nipple play, penetrative sex, protected sex

“Hi,” you call, tilting your head up towards the man on the fire escape twenty feet above you.

After a moment, he says, “hi,” back to you, but it sounds more like a question than a greeting. You can’t blame him. You probably wouldn’t talk to someone shouting to you from the sidewalk of your apartment either. He’s staring down at you, features fuzzy in the evening shadow, but your attention isn’t on his face, anyway.

“Can I hit that?” You gesture towards the joint in his hand. The siren call of weed makes you stupid.

The man doesn’t answer you. He sits up straight again, now out of your sight completely except for his feet dangling off the edge of the fire escape. A stream of smoke curls into the air from where you suspect his head is, and you wait a moment for a response before realizing, a little too late, exactly how stupid weed makes you. He’s not going to respond.

Just as you turn on your heel to continue your trek towards the subway station, his voice calls your attention back. You twist your neck around to look up at him, peering down at you from twenty feet above. “Can I make you a deal?”

“Sure,” you nod.

With an outstretched hand, joint resting between his index and middle fingers, acting like an arrow as he points towards the taco truck at the end of the block, he propositions you. “Grab me a number three from there and I’ll roll you your own.”

Well. Shit. That’s not the answer you were expecting, though you can’t say you were expecting an answer at all. It’s a fair deal. Whatever a number three costs is probably on par for a joint, anyway, so you shoot him a thumbs up and go get him a number three. You get yourself one, too, for the road.

Minutes later, he tells you to stand back so he can drop the ladder for you, so you do, and you wonder how the fuck you plan on climbing the fire escape with a burrito in each hand. He answers that for you by taking a couple steps down the ladder until his black vans are at eye level with you.

He’s a lot closer to you now than he was before, and a combination of shop lights, streetlights, and an apartment light leaking between curtains illuminate him. He looks around your age─ dark hair, dark eyes, intense, offset by fuller cheeks and plush lips.

One hand grasped around the rungs to hold himself up, the other hand stretched down towards you with a freshly-wrapped joint. You exchange one of the burritos for it, watching as he climbs back up the fire escape with a short thanks.

“Hi,” you call back up at him once he settles again.

“Hi,” he responds, setting the burrito down next to him as he goes to pull the ladder back up.

Weed makes you stupid, so before he can pull the ladder back up, you ask him, “can I come with you?”

“If you tell me your name,” he replies, so you do. He says it slowly, like he’s tasting it, and you like the way he says your name. If you had the ability to say someone’s name like it’s the most important word in the world, you’d probably abuse it for street burritos, too.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. Maybe you do have the ability to say names like that, maybe you don’t.

“Changbin,” he tells you, so you repeat it, and you try to say it like he did─ deliberately─ but you fuck that up completely. Sounds more like you’re teasing him for something, you sound like an asshole to your own ears, but he just grins down at you.

“Are you coming up?” He─ Changbin─ takes a bite from his burrito.

So you do.

xxx

Forty minutes later and your head’s heavy, but like the weight’s all cotton candy. It isn’t something that makes sense when you’re sober, but it does when you’re stoned out of your mind, so you tell Changbin that.

“My head’s full of cotton candy,” you state, plainly, sticking your thumb in your mouth to lap at the melted cheese that dripped out of your burrito.

“What color?” Changbin asks.

You hum, pondering for a moment as the two of you swing your legs over the fire escape, staring out into the city. You decide on, “blue, but baby blue, like… periwinkle,” and he laughs beside you.

He laughs nice. The thought makes you snort, and you turn to look at him just as he blows a cloud of smoke out and hides from your sight. It’s definitely the weed spinning the world more slowly but your ears cling to his laughter, replaying it like an echo. He laughs nice, and you need to let him know.

Before you get the chance, Changbin interrupts you to ask, “why are you hiding from me?” He swats at the air between you two where thick smoke streams from both of your joints coil together. He bats it all away and smiles at you, slow and lazy.

“I’m right here,” you reply.

He jerks his head in the direction of his apartment window. “Do you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

You crawl in the window after him, balancing the last bite of your burrito between your fingers like it's a precious gemstone, holding your joint between your lips and taking shallow tokes with each breath. Smoke spills from your nose and you feel like a dragon.

The window leads you directly into his kitchen. It’s almost entirely brick, with dark wooden countertops, black steel furniture, and high ceilings. Spacious─ this guy must have money─and leads into a larger living room with a massive black L-shaped couch, more brick walls, more wooden furniture, and a spiral staircase leading to a lofted bedroom.

“What do you do for work?” You ask.

“I’m a producer,” Changbin responds, now perched on his kitchen counter. He leans over to the ashtray at his right and puts the joint out in it, abandoning it altogether, before he leans back on his palms and tilts his head to keep looking at you. “I make music.”

“Anything I’ve heard?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks. “What about you?”

“I’m a florist,” you answer him, shoving the last of your burrito in your mouth.

You spend the next fifteen minutes like this, getting to know each other. It feels like longer, like fifteen years, because even though you put your joint out in the ashtray next to his, you’re still higher than the moon and time has long since stopped moving linearly.

Somehow, you wind up standing between his legs with your hands on his knees. You don’t remember getting this close.

“Do you normally follow random men up a fire escape?” Changbin teases you with that slow, lazy grin.

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”

“What made you follow me? Besides the weed,” he adds. “You’re not going to rob me, are you?”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you tell him. “If I tried to run right now, I’d fall over.”

“Is that why you’re holding on to me so tight?” Changbin slides his hands down his thighs until he reaches his knees with ease, but stops just short of your hands. His fingers barely brush yours, like he’s shy all of a sudden.

“Maybe,” you say, watching as your fingers tap up that inch of space and intertwine with his. Your head doesn’t feel heavy anymore, but the air around you does, like it’s charged with something volatile and massive where your skin meets his. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it. You wonder if you’re suddenly being weird. You wonder if Changbin is going to kick you out of his apartment, and if your roommates are still awake because you definitely left your keys at work.

He gasps, grips your fingers right back, and the tension breaks. His heels nudge the back of your legs and you take the hint, stepping closer between his legs until your hips hit the counter and your face is inches from his. Changbin’s eyes are bloodshot and red, glistening with the effort of keeping them open to stare into yours. His pupils flick down to your lips real fast, and you lean in a little closer. Just a little closer.

“Do you kiss on the first date?” You ask.

He smirks again, tongue poking out to wet his lips, eyes still flicking down to yours like he’s waiting for the right moment. “Oh, so this is a date? You ask every guy out on a date by smoking his weed and inviting yourself over?”

“You smoked me out and I bought you food, this is definitely a date,” you smile back at him.

“More like a sesh,” Changbin responds.

Before you get the chance to say anything else, he closes the gap between you two, pushing his lips against yours. He kisses like he smiles: slowly, lazily, like time doesn’t exist and all he plans on doing for the next millennia is this. Slots your lips together and sucks your top lip between his, slips his tongue into your mouth to taste yours, nips at your bottom lip and down your chin until he’s sucking a line of sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw. All the while, you’re standing between his legs with one hand on his knee, still intertwined with his, while your other arm wraps around his neck in an attempt to fill each other’s space up with your bodies completely.

Changbin’s teeth lightly scrape your neck and you gasp. “You make the sweetest little sounds for me, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

Your face flushes with the realization that you’ve been making noises this whole time. You rebel against this information by bringing your hand up to his face, guiding him back to your lips, taking a step back with each kiss so he follows after you. Changbin slides off the counter and crowds you into the corner of the kitchen’s entrance, capturing your lips again in the process. One of his hands grips your jaw, applying just enough pressure for you to open wider, giving his tongue better access to your mouth. His other hand reaches down to hook your leg up at the thigh, pushing his hips flush against yours and forcing you to wrap your leg around his waist for balance.

He tastes like weed and street tacos. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Changbin pulls his lips off of yours with a wet smack, nosing into your cheek to ask, “do you fuck on the first date?”

“So this is a date?” You grin. “Not just a sesh?”

It’s his turn to laugh now, mumbling for you to fuck off, before he gives you a series of languid kisses. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

You capture his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back towards you for more kisses. You pull apart just to nod and say, “then yeah, I fuck on the first date.”

xxx

The walk up the spiral staircase to his lofted bedroom takes a little longer than it should, with the two of you giggling and crawling up on your hands and knees the entire time. Once the two of you reach the loft, he ducks quickly to scoop you up into his arms and carry you over to the bed, smiling at you the entire time. It’s romantic until his knees hit the edge of the bed and his smile turns devious before he throws onto the mattress. You shriek, gripping at his black sheets, already pushing him away with your feet as he crawls toward you.

“Stop kicking, Y/N/,” Changbin laughs. In the small moment that you falter, too wrapped up in the way he says your name, like it’s the most important word in the world─

Changbin manages to grab your ankles and spread them apart, effectively stilling your kicks even as you persevere in your attacks, cursing him out while laughing.

“Do you ever worry that someone’s watching you through a telescope?” You ask, gesturing towards the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the loft. The back of his apartment provides you with a view of the rest of the city just beyond the river and the bridge that divide it.

“Not until now, no,” Changbin’s eyebrows furrow as he looks out at the city, and it’s obvious that he’s literally never even considered that. He sighs, then shrugs. “Well, at this point they’ve seen my dick from every angle, so what’s one more time.”

Before you push the subject further with something even more ridiculous, he slides up between your legs, forearms on either side of your head, and kisses you deep. Whatever it was that you were going to say dies on your tongue and disappears from your mind completely as your five senses are completely overwhelmed by Changbin.

The taste of his lips; the smell of marijuana mixing with his sheets; his fingers reaching down to skim your hip where your shirt’s riding up; the little sounds he’s somehow pulling out of you, like no one’s ever done before; he pulls back, and you open your eyes to take in his disheveled appearance, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen, and you think, proudly, I did that.

His fingers tug at your shirt, and you wordlessly reach down to pull it off. Changbin sits back on his heels, hands reaching down to run up and down your arms, your waist, the swell of your tits underneath your lace bra. He swallows, a small sound in the back of his throat, and his tongue pokes out again to wet his lips.

“You too,” you say, your voice breaking the spell he’s under, and he hastily pulls his own shirt off.

You sit up on your elbows, taking in the view of his bare skin; Changbin looks strong but still so soft, so you reach out to skim the pads of your fingers down his chest, down his abs, tracing the warmth of his skin and the vague line of his abs down to the waistband of his jeans. You hook your fingers in the band and look back up in time to see the way his throat bobs.

“Can I see?” You ask.

Changbin snorts. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Fuck you!”

“Isn’t that the point, too?” Changbin laughs, and dodges another kick you send his way.

“Shut up and take your pants off, Changbin!” You flop down onto your back, throwing your arm over your eyes and groaning just to be dramatic.

You hear him laugh again, more of a light, warm giggle, and then the sound of fabric rustling and metal unzipping. Moments later, he guides your arm away from your eyes and rolls his hips down into yours, kissing you again before you get a good look at the prize. You can certainly feel it, though, thick and heavy on your hip. Your heart stutters in your chest at its weight, and you’re suddenly very aware of the heat in between your legs.

“Why am I completely naked and all you’ve done is take your shirt off?” Changbin mumbles against your lips, squeezing one of your tits in his hand.

“Do something about it,” your voice is breathier than normal.

Changbin sits back again and you follow up on your elbows, finally getting a look at his cock springing up from between his thighs. Thick, long, and hard, and you bite your lip as you admire it.

Never in your life have you ever wanted a dick inside of you this badly.

“You’re drooling,” Changbin teases you, yanking your pants and your underwear down to your ankles. You kick around a bit until, with his help, you’re also (almost) entirely naked.

You sit up and reach for his cock, but Changbin backs away from your touch.

“Not until you take your bra off,” he says.

“Brat,” you roll your eyes but comply, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and pull it off your chest.

Changbin’s eyes are locked on your body, his gaze so intense that you start fidgeting beneath it. Your heart hammers in your chest. Any funny remark or weird comment you can make dies in your throat the second his hands travel up your legs, spreading them further the closer he gets to your pussy. Embarrassed, suddenly, you turn your head to stare out the window, fisting at the duvet beneath you.

“Hey, no, look at me,” you hear Changbin say before he grips your chin and turns you towards him. He swoops down to kiss you again (slowly, lazily) until you start making noises of contentment into his mouth.

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his fingers rubbing against your pussy, dipping between your folds, circling your clit, teasing your cunt as he smears your own slick around. Your hands instinctively come up to cradle his face and run through his hair, your lips chasing after his in a series of hot, open-mouth kisses.

Changbin breaks away first, sitting back on his heels again and pulling his fingers away from your pussy to hold in front of his face. He huffs out a laugh at the string of slick connecting his middle and index fingers, his eyes meeting yours. “Look how wet you are for me, Y/N.”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t fuck me already,” you growl, sitting up so you’re eye-to-eye with Changbin as you take his wrist and wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself.

His eyes glaze over and his mouth drops open watching as you suck his fingers dry. Slowly, you drag his fingers out of your mouth by his wrist, letting them catch on your lower lip and pull a little, before smearing spit down your chin.

“You’re trying to kill me now, holy shit,” Changbin babbles and lets his hand grab your neck, not choking you, but to steady you as he kisses you again. Despite the urgency in his voice, he manages to kiss you slow, again, like time means nothing.

He guides you down onto your back again, kissing you the whole way down, before his lips start making their way down your jaw, your neck, your body. Once he reaches your hips, he glances up at you, eyes glazed and hooded, so you can watch him kiss a trail from your hip to halfway up the inside of your thigh. His other hand pushes your other leg up, hooking your thigh over his shoulder so he can shimmy up closer to your leaking pussy. You’re so wet, so hot, for him that his breath fanning out over your core feels cold. It sends shivers up your spine.

Changbin licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, making your back arch as you push your hips up into him, a deep groan coming from him. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he moans.

You can do nothing but whine as he sucks on your clit, his tongue rapidly flicking across the sensitive nub. You push your hips up again for deeper friction only for Changbin to push you back down, his forearm pinning your hips in place as he continues eating you out.

And he’s fucking messy about it, too. Alternating between kitten licks at your hole, sucking kisses up your pussy, flattening his tongue to catch as much of you in his mouth and the rest dribbling down his chin to mix with his own saliva. His spits on your pussy a few times, his thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit while his tongue fucks your cunt. You’re babbling his name, begging for more, moaning and gasping and grabbing your own tits with your own hand while the other rakes through his hair.

Then, Changbin adds two fingers. You gasp at the sudden intrusion so he takes your clit between his lips again as he fucks you with his fingers. Your eyes are half-lidded in absolute pleasure, blinking blearily at him while he busies himself pushing saliva out of his mouth again, coating your pussy in a mix of slick and spit. The added wetness makes it easier for him to finger fuck you, makes it easier to curl his fingers into your walls just right and find the spot that has you moaning his name loudly enough for the entire city to hear.

Heat pools in the bottom of your stomach and before you know it, your back arches and your body stills as you cum. Changbin licks you all the way through it, his fingers pressing against that spot inside of you that exploded from his touch, until you release one final moan.

Chest heaving, you look down to see him sit up from between your legs, smiling, lips and chin wet with spit and your own slick. You haven’t managed to catch your voice back yet, so you beckon him over with a lazy twist of your fingers. He rolls his body down to meet you and you hold your face in his hands, kissing him deeply, still moaning a little bit into his mouth.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You murmur, dragging one knuckle down his spine.

He giggles against your mouth and ducks away from you, hiding his face in your neck. “The internet,” he replies.

“So are you going to fuck me now?” You ask, and smirk when he (with a swiftness) sits back and rifles through his bedside drawer.

Changbin pulls out a condom and a half empty bottle of lube, which you raise your eyebrows at. “Someone’s busy.”

“Fuck you,” he rolls his eyes but smirks, working at rolling the condom over his cock. “I’m a chronic masturbator.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but that’s actually the hottest thing in the world,” you reply, not even trying to hide the lust in your voice at the mental image of Changbin fucking his own fist in this very bed.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch sometime,” Changbin smirks again.

Before he can position himself, you roll over and push at his shoulders until he gets the hint to lie back in the spot you just vacated. “I’m going to ride you,” you tell him, swinging your leg over his hips until you’re straddling him, “until I physically can’t anymore. You deserve it for eating pussy like a champ.”

Changbin laughs, and it’s his turn to cover his face with his hands as a red flush spreads across his cheeks. You pry his hands away from his face, smiling as you plant kisses all over it (saving his lips for last) until you’re both laughing together. It’s sweet. It’s the best sex you’ve had in a while, and you don’t even have his dick in you yet.

Your fingers circle the base of his cock as you line yourself up with him. You look up to see his eyes staring as you lower yourself onto it, biting your lip through the stretch until you're fully seated. As soon as he bottoms out in you, Changbin groans, and his hands find your hips. After a few moments, once you get used to the stretch, you slowly begin to move. Your legs shake with the effort, your body still tired after your own orgasm and lazy from all the weed you smoked, but you manage to pick up a good pace. You roll your hips down as you fuck yourself on Changbin’s cock, relishing in the sensation of him throbbing inside of you, and butterflies erupt in your stomach once he starts moaning your name.

Absentmindedly, you press your hands down on his pecs and settle your weight into them for balance. Like the rest of him, they’re firm but soft, like he definitely works out and could probably deadlift you like it's nothing, but still soft enough to cuddle into for warmth. You quicken your pace a bit as heat starts pooling in your stomach again, his cock brushing that sensitive part inside your cunt that has you hurtling towards a second climax. One of your hands massages into his chest, your other hand tweaking at his nipples for something to do.

Changbin makes a strangled cry in his throat, like he’s trying not to let it out, as your fingers keep pinching at his nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers, while your hips circle an agonizing rhythm on his cock. Suddenly, his hands squeeze your hips to hold you in place while his hips buck up, burying his cock deep inside you as he cums with a loud groan.

Brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips red and kiss-swollen─ he is truly a sight to behold.

Even as he releases his death-grip on your hips, you don’t move to get up, opting to stare at the man beneath you as he slowly collects himself. Changbin notices you staring and the flush on his cheeks intensifies, his eyes suddenly looking anywhere but you.

“I─ sorry, that was… new for me.” He mutters sheepishly.

“Huh?” You tilt your head in confusion.

Changbin huffs in frustration, finally meeting your eyes. “I usually last longer than that, I mean. But, uh, the… you know.” He gestures between your hands and his chest, eyes shifty again.

Then it clicks for you. “Ooooooh,” you slap your hands down on his pecs, ignoring the squawk of surprise from Changbin, and press your tongue against the inside of your cheek to try and stop the spread of your smile. “The nipples! Was it the nipples?”

Changbin makes another sound in his throat, looking to his left and out at the city before he nods.

“Oh my god, you liked it!” You giggle with glee. You’ve never been with a man who liked his nipples played with, and if you have─ well, they certainly never let you know.

“Shut up about it,” Changbin mutters, crossing his arms over his chest to dislodge your hands.

You lean over, softly cradling his cheek in your hand as you guide him to look back at you. “I’m not making fun of you,” you reassure him with a kiss, “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Do you think you can cum without me ever touching your cock? Only your nipples?”

Changbin tries to hide his face again, but you gently take hold of his wrists and pin them to either side of his head. Instead of providing you with an answer, his eyes scan your face, like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he cranes his neck up to kiss you again (slow and lazy, just how you like it).

“Do you work tomorrow?” He asks after a while.

“No,” you answer.

He hugs you close to his chest, using the position to roll you both around until you’re on your back beneath him. Slowly, he finally pulls out of you, both of you hissing at the sensation after having been joined together for so long, and he ties the condom off and throws it in the little trash bin beside his bed.

“If you stay over, our first date doesn’t have to end,” Changbin says, casually, like it’s nothing, but there’s a lilt to his voice that makes you think he’s holding himself back.

“Are you not the type to fuck on the second date?” You challenge him. “Is that why you want our first date to last forever?”

Changbin laughs again─ warm, light; butterflies erupt in your stomach again─ and shakes his head, “Y/N.”

Your name sounds safe in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hands up over your head, and kisses you again. Says your name a few more times, like he knows it makes your heart race.

“What if I promise to cum from you playing with my nipples?” Changbin asks between kisses. “Will you stay?”

“Oh, fine, I guess,” you huff, being purposefully dramatic even though you made the decision not to leave this man the second your fingers brushed on the fire escape.

xxx

In the morning, Changbin keeps his promise, and cums untouched after mere minutes of you pinching and sucking at his nipples. He says your name again, just to get your attention, just so you can kiss him, and it sounds safe in his mouth.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fic #skz fic #changbin fic #collection: first date

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

Baby Horse (Alex Morgan x Reader)

It’s a routine sunny morning in Florida when you meet Alex Morgan. Alex Morgan who you’re currently writing a parking ticket for, for forgetting to feed the meter...

Little did either of you know that this chance meeting would change both your lives forever.

“Shit.” Alex grimaces when she sees a police officer standing beside her car, a notepad in hand, a notepad which is, OF COURSE, full of tickets.

“Wait! I’m here!” Alex grimaces as she jogs up to the car, having been an hour late to feed the coin machine that she’d parked beside.

Your brow arches as you turn to her, taking off the sunglasses covering your eyes.

“You didn’t think that would work, did you?” You shake your head, turning back to your notepad.

Alex is taken aback, not because of your bluntness, but because you’re absolutely stunning. She swallows hard, tracing your jawline with her blue orbs, the woman smiling when she sees your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you write her, unfortunately, a ticket.

Her eyes run down your uniform, her mouth drying slightly, her eyes running along the name plate on your chest reading Y/L/N.

“Is there anything I can do?” Alex frowns and you sigh.

“Sorry miss, you know how it is here, most of Florida’s funding comes from these meters.” You tease with a tiny smile, something that, despite the situation, makes Alex chuckle.

The woman sighs, unlocking her car before leaning against it.

“Do you write tickets a lot?” She asks and you chuckle.

“More than you know, no one seems to feed the meter.” You glance up at her, your eyes widening.

“Y-Y-You're...” You clear your throat, glancing around, realizing a number of pedestrians are standing nearby.

“Keep it moving guys or I’ll ticket you for loitering.” You nod your head in the opposite direction, those around you begrudgingly slinking off.

“I imagine you deal with that a lot Ms. Morgan.” You frown, the USWNT player shrugging.

“I’ve gotten used to it really.”

You clear your throat, taking a step towards her, tearing the piece of paper from your notepad before folding it in half.

“Well Ms. Morgan, I hope your day gets a little better, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You smile, handing her the slip of paper.

Alex pouts, opening the slip of paper, her brows furrowed when she only sees the word, WARNING scrawled across it.

She picks her head up, her lips splitting into a grin that you can’t help but mirror.

“Try and keep the meter fed next time, yeah?”

Alex surprises you by resting a hand on your forearm, goosebumps sprouting beneath her fingertips as she gives it a squeeze.

You completely miss the fact that her cheeks flushes, the woman keenly aware of the firmness of your forearm’s muscle.

“Thank you for this, really.” She gives it another squeeze and you nod.

“Just don’t make it a habit.”

The woman’s hand slides from your arm as you take a step back.

“Enjoy the rest of your day Ms. Morgan.” You turn on your heels, ready to take your leave but her voice stops you.

“Please, call me Alex.”

Your lips split in a grin.

“Alright, enjoy the rest of your day, Alex.”

Alex watches you go with a smile, her cheeks flushed bright red as she glances down at her ticket before lifting her gaze, catching you just as your rounding the corner and out of sight.

Alex’s heart skips a beat in her chest, the woman grinning.

“Oh, I will Officer Y/L/N.”

***

The only thing Alex really regretted about that day was not asking for your number, which she was sure would’ve been unprofessional, but for some reason, you’d made her feel something she hadn’t felt before, with ANYONE.

That feeling is what leads her to the Precinct whose number was stamped across the top of the ticket.

Alex warily wanders into the police station, a number of the officers looking her way with wide eyes.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The man at the front desk asks and Alex clears her throat.

“I was looking for Officer Y/L/N. I wasn’t sure if she’d be here or not.”

The man hums.

“She actually just left for her beat.” He frowns and Alex nods, knowing exactly where she could find you.

“Thanks for your help.” She smiles, turning on her heels and heading for the exit, an extra pep in her step.

With luck, she’d find you where she met you weeks ago.

***

Nearly an hour after searching, Alex is about to give up, that is until she rounds the corner heading to her car, the woman running, literally straight into you.

“Whoa, pardon me.” You frown, your hands moving to her waist to keep her from falling.

Your eyes double in size when you realize who it is standing before you.

“Ms. Mor-

You stop midsentence, clearing your throat.

“Alex... I hope you fed the meter.” You tease, a grin stretching across your face, a grin that Alex mirrors.

“I did, even if I WAS looking for a certain officer who gave me a warning a few weeks ago.” She shrugs and your brows arch, your head tilted to one side.

“You were looking for me?” You ask in confusion and Alex nods.

“I forgot to ask you for something a few weeks ago.”

You hum, eyes widening when you realize you’re still holding her waist, retracting your hands with a blush.

“W-w-w-well um, what was it that you needed?” You ask, stuttering slightly.

Alex giggles, the sound making your cheeks flush.

“Your number.”

Your eyes widen, nearly bulging from your skull.

“M-M-My number?” You ask, doing your best to bite back a smile.

“Yeah, your number.”

You shuffle from foot to foot nervously, Alex’s heart skipping a beat as you glance away shyly.

You shrug.

“I guess I could give you that.”

***

After that day the two of you texted nonstop, at least of course, when you were both able to.

Every time you got off of work the first thing you do is message Alex, the USWNT player the first thing on your mind when you wake up and the last thing on your mind when you fall asleep.

Your favorite sound had become that of your chiming phone, dinging with the specific chime you’d assigned specifically to Alex’s number.

It wasn’t long before you realized what you’d felt for her was more than friendship, you only hoped what she felt for you was the same.

***

Nearly two weeks later Alex is pacing the length of her living room, her heart racing in her chest, her phone against her ear.

“Jan, seriously, just ask her, I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.” Kelley says through the phone’s receiver and Alex sighs.

“What if I’m looking into it too much, what if she doesn’t like me.” Alex pauses. “Th-That way.”

Kelley snorts loudly into the phone, so loud in fact that Alex has to pull the phone away from her ear.

“Dude, she likes you, ANYONE can see that.” She snickers and Alex rolls her eyes.

“So, I should...?”

Kelley barks out a laugh.

“INVITE HER OVER TO DINNER TOMORROW!” She yells and Alex sighs, the butterflies in her stomach flapping their wings.

“T-T-Tomorrow?” She stutters and Kelley chuckles.

“Yes Jan, tomorrow.”

Alex clears her throat, nodding.

“Alright... T-Tomorrow.”

***

You couldn’t believe you were currently making your way to Alex Morgan’s house, a house that wasn’t at all hard to find considering its was massive in size.

You clear your throat, killing your car’s engine before wiping your hands down the front of your old academy shirt.

You nod to yourself.

You were incredibly nervous, so nervous in fact that your clammy hands had slipped on your steering wheel multiple times on the way here.

Alex Morgan had invited you over for dinner, ALEX MORGAN, a woman who over a month ago you’d been about to ticket nonetheless.

You clear your throat, scanning your face in the rear-view mirror.

You nod.

“I got this.”

***

It takes every ounce of strength Alex has to not look out the window at the sound of a coming car, but that strength ebbs away when she hears a car door slam shut.

She bounces on her heels.

You were here, you were here at her house and about to come inside.

Alex glances around nervously.

What if you thought the house was messy?

What if you weren’t satisfied with what she was making for dinner?

Considering her thoughts are so loud, she misses the fact that you’d finally gained the courage to knock on the door, your brows furrowing when she doesn’t answer.

You knock, uncertainly the next time, pulling Alex out of her trance, the defender stumbling as she rushes to the door, jerking it open.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you the first time.” Alex smiles, the woman’s blue orbs widening as her eyes rake down your front.

You’d forgone the uniform, which of course, Alex loved, and instead went with what Alex suspected was a shirt from your time in the academy and a pair of ironed jeans.

Your eyes widen when Alex moves closer, her arms slipping boldly around your neck.

“Good to see you” She whispers in your ear and you smile, wrapping your arms around her, giving her a squeeze.

“Yeah, you too.”

Alex sighs, the feel of your arms around her bringing her a comfort like something she’d never felt, the woman giving you a tight squeeze before she reluctantly pulls away.

“Come on in, I have dinner going, it should be almost done.”

You follow her inside, mouth agape as you glance around the large living room.

“Damn, you have a nice house.” You mumble and Alex smiles.

“Sometimes it’s too big for one person, you know?” She shrugs, eyes widening when she realizes what the connotation of that could possibly mean.

You follow Alex into an equally large kitchen, your eyes wide and mouth still agape as you take in the expansive kitchen.

“I made pasta, I hope that’s alright.” Alex moves towards the stove, with her back to you, you get a chance to take the woman’s outfit in.

The woman dressed simply, as you had, wearing a faded Berkley shirt and a pair of jeans.

Boldly you make your way towards Alex, your hands moving to rest on her hips as you stand behind her, looking down at the meal she’d prepared.

You turn towards her, swallowing hard when you realize how close you are to her.

“It looks great.” You smile, the forward’s cheeks flushing.

“Th-Thanks.” She swallows hard and you grin.

“Anyway I can help?” You ask as you take a step back and Alex shakes her head.

“No, I got it, go sit down. I invited you over, remember?” She teases and you shrug.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

Alex sighs, nodding to a nearby cabinet.

“Alright then, get the plates down. “

“You got it.”

***

The two of you eventually end up at the dinner table, Alex’s blue orbs darting to you as you take the first bite, humming loudly.

“You like it?” She asks nervously and you inhale loudly.

“I love it, it’s fantastic.”

Alex wiggles in her chair happily a grin stretching across her face, as she takes her first bite.

“Write a lot of tickets lately?” Alex asks and you chuckle.

“A LOT of tickets, it looks like you’re not the only one who doesn’t feed the meter.” You wink, taking another forkful of food into your mouth.

“That was one time.” She pouts and you smirk.

“Be careful Morgan, I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Alex rolls her eyes.

“Ohh we’ll see.”

You shake your head with a laugh.

The two of you make small talk until plates go empty, the forward’s eyes narrowing when you insist on cleaning the empty plates.

“Al, you made dinner, least I can do is clean the plates.”

You abruptly turn away, cheeks blood red when you realize you’d called her Al instead of Alex.

Alex is unable to bite back a grin as you clean the plates off and place them in the dishwasher.

You turn around, giving the woman a charming grin.

“I have movies we could watch in the other room, if you want...” Alex shuffles nervously from foot to foot, the woman’s boldness disappearing before your eyes.

You take a step towards her, your hand resting on her forearm.

“I’d love to.”

***

It’s not long after that you’re perusing the massive living room, smiling when you see a number of pictures of Alex with the remainder of the USWNT.

“I have a confession.” You say as you glance over your shoulder at Alex, the woman turning your way with a furrowed brow.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never watched a USWNT game.”

Your eyes widen when Alex jumps to her feet.

“Are you serious?” She asks and you shrug.

“M-Maybe...”

Alex scoops her iPad up off the coffee table and waves you towards the couch.

“Get over here, I’m introducing you to the world of professional soccer.”

You laugh, making your way towards the couch, your eyes widening when Alex literally pulls you down beside her.

It’s in that moment that you realize how close the two of you are, Alex’s thigh pressed against yours.

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing.

It’s only seconds later that Alex pulls her feet up to the couch, tucking her legs behind her.

The TV blares to life and you jump, making Alex giggle.

“Sorry, was a little loud.” She laughs and you pout.

“Just a little.”

Your focus turns to the TV, missing Alex’s excited little flail at the proximity between the two of you.

“You might have to walk me through some of the rules.” You grimace and Alex gives you a nudge.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

You grin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***

The look on your face is downright comical when you see your first corner kick take place.

“Wait, what... Is that because it went out of bounds like...” You wave a hand in the air. “Passed the goal?”

Alex nods.

“That’s right.”

Alex smiles as you lean towards the TV, watching intently as Megan Rapinoe takes the corner kick.

It leaves her foot and you stiffen, the ball flying through the air towards goal, hitting the back of the net seconds later, courtesy of Alex’s foot.

“YEAH!” You yell, jumping from your seat, throwing your fists in the air and Alex giggles.

“THAT WAS SICK.” You say as you flop down beside her on the couch.

“You’re so talented.” You smile excitedly and Alex blushes, shrugging.

Your lips split in a grin.

“You are!”

You turn back to the TV, taking a deep breath.

If you were going to make your move, a move that would tell the woman beside you that you wanted more, now was the time.

Alex nods to herself.

This was the moment she was going to make her move.

“Wait...” You mumble, leaning towards the TV with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

You point at the screen.

“That’s you, right?” You ask and Alex nods.

You snicker.

“Hey! What!?” Alex gives you a shove and you snort.

“Your run.”

Alex’s cheeks flush, the woman HOPING you wouldn’t notice what others had.

“What about it?” She asks and you grin.

“It’s adorable!” Your grin impossibly widening.

“It is not!” She pouts and you throw your head back with a laugh.

“It isss! It’s like, like...” You snap your fingers, trying to think of what it is that Alex looks like when running.

“Don’t say it.” Alex covers her face with her hands and you clap your hands.

“A foal!” You yell, turning to Alex with a grin.

“A baby horse...” She mumbles and you nod.

“Yeah!”

Alex gives you a playful shove and you snicker.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re adorable.”

Alex throws her head back with a lengthy whine and you shake your head.

“Okay, okay, I’m done.”

Alex’s eyes narrow, the woman staring at you for a moment, watching as you try and fail to bite back a smile.

She rolls her eyes, surprising you when she wiggles closer.

Your eyes double in size, your laughter caught in your throat when Alex rests her head on your chest.

“Come on, let’s watch the rest.” Alex says, voice unwavering even though her heart is literally about to burst from its ribbed cage.

She can’t help but smile when she feels you moving, your arm slipping around her, pulling her closer.

“Okay.” You whisper, nervously and Alex grins.

Boldly, she reaches across your lap, her hand resting on top of yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip as you turn your hand over, your fingers spreading, an invitation, an invitation that Alex accepts, her fingers slipping between your own.

“Okay?” She asks turning to you and you chuckle, your cheeks dusted pink as you turn her way.

“More than okay.”

***

Neither of you move after that, unless in fact it’s to move closer, which currently is impossible considering you’re as close as humanly possible.

Eventually you’re unable to resist and rest your head on top of hers, your eyes fluttering shut.

This solidified it for you, what was going on between the two of you was more than friendship, something much more, something that frightened you in all honesty, but seeing her, the woman curled into your side, her blue orbs fluttering shut, the woman fighting off sleep, all that fright went away.

If there was someone that you wanted to be with, it was Alex Morgan.

Alex yawns again and you smile, glancing at the watch on your wrist.

“Damn, I didn’t realize it was so late.” You grimace, the woman beside you frowning when she realizes it’s passed midnight.

You frown, glancing down at the woman on your chest.

“I guess I better get going.” Your frown deepens as Alex moves off of your chest and moves to her feet.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” She holds a hand out and you smile, taking it with no reluctance.

The two of you walk begrudgingly to the door, Alex’s fingers intertwined with yours.

The front door swings open and you sigh, turning to Alex with a tiny smile.

“I really uhh, enjoyed tonight.” You say shyly, giving Alex’s hand a squeeze.

Reluctantly, your fingers untangle from hers, though you don’t go far, Alex’s eyes widening when you take a step towards her, ducking down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I hope we do it again soon.” You whisper against her skin, the woman wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Oh, we will.” She turns her head, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek.

Again, but with much more reluctance, the two of you part, both smiling shyly at one another.

“Drive home safe Officer Y/L/N.” You shake your head with a grin, throwing her a wave before turning on your heels and heading to your car.

The second you slip into your car you throw a fist in the air, meanwhile, Alex has made her way inside, the woman doing a happy dance in her living room.

The prospect of meeting again, of furthering the relationship between the two of you was thrilling and neither of you could wait to see where it went.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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telli1206 · 3 years

Note

Anddddd Jaylos + 15. Total darkness, place unknown? 💖

Ok ok, I think I have a cute Auradon drabble in my head now...let's see what you think @hersilentlanguage 😉

-----

Carlos grips Jay's shoulder tightly as he tries to follow behind him. Jay's moving so fast, and Carlos has already stumbled over his feet a few times trying to keep up with the pace. The hallway is nearly pitch black, and as much as he tries to blink and adjust, he sees nothing but darkness.

"Jayyyy," he whines, and shifts to loop his arm through his boyfriend's. "Where are we going? Do you even know where we are?? I can't see shit."

"Don't worry C," Jay tuts, patting Carlos' hand reassuringly as he pulls him along. "I already scoped it out. And I found something I think you'll like."

Jay throws him a wink. At least, that's what Carlos thinks he sees.

"Fine, but let's not take too long, ok? We haven't even sung 'Happy Birthday' to Ben, yet. Evie and Mal will probably be looking for us in a few minutes."

"Yeah, yeah. This won't take long. Promise."

Jay drops Carlos' grip to wrap his arm around his shoulders instead, pulling him in close. Carlos sighs and cuddles in as they walk. Jay smells so fresh and clean, and his silky hair is soft against Carlos' cheek. It’s wonderfully distracting from the eeriness of the dark, abandoned hall.

"Wait-here! Right here, C."

Carlos startles and jumps back a little as Jay reaches in front of him to grab the nearest doorknob. He yanks it open quickly, flooding the hallway with a warm golden light. Carlos blinks furiously at the brightness as Jay drags him through the threshold.

"This is what I found," Jay adds with a nod. Carlos glances around the room, and it's...incredible.

It's a bedroom, that made clear by the massive canopy bed in front of them, just across from the gold-framed window. It's draped in ivory silks, the most detailed rose carvings trailing down the wooden posts. And the elegant bedspread is covered in sparkling embroidered gold linens. Everything in this room is more opulent than anything Carlos has ever seen in his life.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Carlos barely hears Jay, too lost in his quiet ogling. But he does eventually manage to close his mouth and give a slight nod.

“It’s the most amazing room I’ve ever seen,” he sighs, his voice still breathy with awe. “It’s just...beautiful.”

Jay chuckles, letting his hand drop to Carlos’ waist. “Yeah, I thought you’d like it.”

Jay adds pressure to his grip, gently guiding Carlos backwards. Carlos perks a brow at him, confused, until he’s pressed against the wall and Jay leans in to kiss him softly.

“Kinda romantic, don’tcha think? A dark, quiet castle...you and me, alone in a big gorgeous bedroom. Does it give you any...ideas?”

Carlos shakes his head, chuckling quietly before he’s silenced by another kiss, this one more heated than the first. He pulls back a little, pressing a hand to Jay’s chest before he can go back in. “I guess it’s giving you a few. So this is why you were so eager to wander around the castle?”

Jay smirks proudly, curling over Carlos’ hand to kiss at his jaw. “Maybe. It’s not every day we get alone time in a fancy place like this, huh?”

Carlos has to agree. It’s definitely been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves, and especially not somewhere as nice as this. But the approval he wants to voice is quickly lost in the expanse of Jay’s throat, the dark-haired boy already kissing Carlos so deeply, so passionately that he’s forgotten what he was going to say. All his focus has turned to kissing Jay, his arms encircling Jay’s neck to pull him in even closer.

Minutes slip past, neither one even noticing how long they’ve stayed in this spot, with Carlos pinned under Jay, happily making out against the bedroom wall. Eventually Jay’s hands slide under Carlos’ shirt, teasing Carlos with light touches and coaxing giggles against his lips. Carlos retaliates with a firm tug on Jay’s hair, his fingers tangled near the roots and scraping against Jay’s scalp. The combined sensations elicit a pleased groan from Jay - a very, very loud groan, that has Carlos slapping a hand over Jay’s mouth.

“Jay!” he hisses, curling his hand tighter when Jay tries to shake it off. “Do you want to get in trouble?? We need to be quiet.”

Jay jerks his hand back, sliding out of Carlos’ grip to flash him a pointed grin. “Get in trouble? From who, C? The suit of armor in the hallway? Everyone’s back at the party.”

He grabs Carlos’ chin and tilts his face up, smiling sweetly at him and stroking his thumb along Carlos’ cheek.

“Baby. You can chill, ok? It’s just us.”

Carlos relaxes against the warmth of Jay’s body. “I guess you’re right,” he sighs, pecking at Jay’s lips. “It’s just...you know I hate this. I’m not a-a, delinquent.”

Jay chuckles, kissing Carlos firmly before pulling back again. “I know, C. Let’s be real, you were never really good at it, were you?” Jay grins as Carlos serves him a less-than-convincing angry glare. “Oh come on, I just meant the delinquency part’s always been my job. Your brains are what keeps us from getting caught.”

Jay puffs up his chest, smirking proudly, and Carlos just smiles and shakes his head. “Please. You’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll keep making out with you.”

Jay snakes an arm around Carlos’ waist, pushing him in so he’s flush against Jay’s chest. “Maybe. Did it work?” He quips, before sealing their lips again. Carlos hums his agreement, arching into the solidity of Jay’s muscled form as he melts further into the kiss.

"Um..guys?”

Carlos quickly shoves Jay and springs back at the sound of the familiar voice, wiping furiously at his mouth and refusing to meet Ben’s eyes. Jay however, stands tall, crossing his arms and perking a brow at the king, who’s looking shocked and confused from the doorway.

“When did...how...why, are you in here?”

“Sorry man, we were just, uh, looking for the bathroom. And got lost.” The lie spills so casually from Jay’s lips it’s almost hard not to believe it, so Carlos stays quiet next to him, chewing his lip and squeezing Jay’s hand tightly.

“Oh. Wow, you really got lost then.” Ben’s tone is dry as he looks around the room, then scans the hallway briefly. His eyes are wide and a little frantic. “Um, let me show you to the bathroom, ok? This is actually my parents’ room, so we really need to get out of here.”

Ben waves them on, and Jay and Carlos quickly stumble in line behind him out of the room. The king is shuffling down the hall so fast it’s hard for them to keep up, and his awkward gait from the speed has Jay almost snorting.

“Jay,” Carlos hisses, slapping him hard in the stomach. “Don’t make it worse! I can’t believe you took me to the former king Beast’s room. I think we almost gave Ben a heart attack.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jay glances at Ben again, and his smile softens. “Ok, I feel a little bad about that. But,” he adds, his eyes alight, “I can’t wait to tell Mal we did it in Beasty’s room. She’s gonna be so fucking jealous!”

Settings To Imagine Your OTP Prompts

#jaylos #jay x carlos #my writing #drabble prompts #otp prompts #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #ben florian #descendants

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fantasia-monogram · 3 years

Text

Seven to twelve

♥️ Inseong x female reader (female anatomy); mentions of other SF9 members.

♥️ This is set in the As the clock strikes midnight universe, right after the epilogue! Read it before this one to get the context.

♥️ Smut (2.7k words); y/n is a professional Domme. Inseong is a bisexual sub. Mommy kink, degradation, spanking. Mentions of other BDSM practices.

♥️ Quality Department leader Kim Inseong has two secrets: first is his love for kink, second is a massive crush on a hot guy from HR department. Every Thursday, a trusted Domme helps him deal with frustration keeping those secrets causes.

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

As you stepped back into the dungeon, you admired the transformation the room had undergone while you were taking a shower. Your previous customer made a huge mess (still, not even comparable to the mess you've made of him). You weren't the best at cleaning - you've had other talents that got you through life, after all - so you couldn't help but be amazed at the work the cleaning staff did in such a short time.

Gone were the wet stains on the floor, and a soiled rug had been replaced for a fresh, fluffy one. All the scary torture equipment was hidden behind partition that would automatically slide out of the nearest wall by a press of a button. Antique leather chair was switched to a cozy looking armchair with blankets laid out on the floor next to it. The mood of the otherwise pretty sterile space was warmed up thanks to pink tinted lighting.

All of those were a tell-tale sign who your next customer would be.

You opened the wardrobe and took a black satin-and-lace bodysuit out of it. Your usual tight corset and leather boots wouldn't be needed this time. After you put the garment on, you opted for classic shiny stilettos, and topped the outfit with a short flowy dressing gown.

Just to be sure everything was in place, you checked yourself out in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door: the look was a blend of a retro housewife and a pin-up girl, complete with vintage style lingerie, aggressive eyeliner and red lipstick. Just as he liked it.

There were only minutes left to the appointment, so you stroke a couple more poses to see the outfit in different angles. Perfect. You crossed the floor in a few elegant strides, to finally take a seat on the armchair in the middle of the spacious room.

You had a pretty chill end of the workday ahead of you.

A soft, somewhat cautious knock on the door broke the silence.

"Come in."

There he was, entering hesitantly, and closing the door behind him in an awkward manner. Inseong - you had no interest in your customers' last names, it was something only the administration ladies kept for business purposes - was a tall, very tall man with broad shoulders, lanky limbs and a bit of a tummy; his face, though, was that of a teenage boy, with barely any wrinkles and nervous expression. From what he told you, he was some kind of a supervisor or a boss or something in the field of corporate banking. At that moment, however, with his black bangs covering his forehead, he was stripped out of all titles he might have held as a higher up.

Honestly, he looked pretty cute in a set of pink fleece pajamas with a print consisting of little yellow chicks.

He stood there, big eyes looking at you anxiously. You knew he was waiting for your sign - his wish was to experience your different moods, so you always kept him uncertain for a bit. It was more fun this way.

That night you decided to play nice, at least for a while. You put on your warmest smile, spreading your arms.

"Come on, baby, come to Mommy!"

Inseong didn't need to be told twice. He rushed from his place. In seconds, he sank onto his knees inbetween your spread legs. You sneaked your arms around his neck and harshly pulled him forward, only to let him plant his face right into your breasts.

Right, he had a thing for boobs. And muscular body types. That's why he chose to pay for your services in the first place.

He stayed like this for a good minute or two, occasionally rubbing his face against your soft flesh. You kept gently patting his head this entire time, until you decided that was enough and yanked him away by a handful of hair.

"Why don't you tell Mommy about your day, baby?" You cooed, still gripping his hair tightly. His eyes, looking even bigger, were all fired up already.

He was so easy to figure out.

"Y-yes… Yes, Mommy, I will," he stuttered. You let go of him, so he could sink back to the floor and lie his head on your lap.

You got back to combing your fingers through his black strands, just to keep the variety.

"There is this guy in the company…" Inseong started, his voice a bit hushed. "In another department. He's dreamy. But I don't think he's interested in me. I don't think he's interested in guys at all. Or at least in pathetic guys like me."

You uttered a soft mhmm to encourage him. Oh, so he came in to release the frustration. You already had a plan on how to help him with that, but that required waiting for a good moment to start the actual scene.

"I can't believe anybody would be able to resist my pretty baby," you sighed, staying in character.

"Thank you, Mommy…" Inseong replied shyly; he knew how to behave, or rather, how to reply to your compliments. "Actually, he spends so much time with that… I can never remember her name… She's a monster. Five and barely a half feet of a goddamn monster. I've heard they want to promote her to a leadership position soon. And she's so old! I can't believe Jaeyoonie is into older women."

Your eyes went wide at the name. No way. Glad Inseong couldn't see your face right now, you quickly calmed yourself down.

"Some guys are into milfs, you know that, right, baby?" You snorted. The things you had to do just to pace the appointment right…

"She's not a milf! She's only a year or two older than me," Inseong explained.

Come to think of it, you had no idea how old he was, and it was hard to tell by his looks only.

"Anyway, I'm sure he's fucking her. Or that awkward skinny boy always hanging out with them." Inseong started to sound pissed off at this point. "Now that I think of it, he could easily take them both! And that would mean he's into older women and younger guys. I don't fit into any of those demographics. What a nightmare."

"You never know," you concluded, although internally you were getting more and more suspicious of Jaeyoonie's identity.

"But there's more…" Inseong's voice broke at the last word. "There was a company party earlier that week… I drank too much and he saw me throwing up in the bathroom… I can't believe I embarrassed myself like that…"

That was the moment you were waiting for. You stopped your caresses immediately.

"Wait a minute. When was that party, exactly?"

You could feel Inseong tense up under your hand.

"Wednesday night…" He mumbled.

"Is that why you rescheduled from Thursday to Friday?"

You gripped his shirt at the back of his neck.

"Yes, Mommy… I was so hungover… I wouldn't be able to play with you…" Inseong started stumbling over his words. You slid your hand up, grasped a fistful of hair and pulled it back so he could face you in a very uncomfortable position.

The panic that flashed through Inseong's eyes gave you a solid rush of adrenaline.

"Good boys don't drink more than they could handle," you stated in a dead serious tone.

"B-but…" Inseong stuttered, "I have low tolerance. And everyone else was drinking…"

You tightened the grip on his hair, eliciting a strangled whine out of him.

"Then you shouldn't have drunk at all, you silly baby." You slowly stood up from your seat, dragging Inseong up on his knees, followed by a litany of pained whimpers. "You made Mommy sad. I've been waiting for you the entire day."

"Oh, no… I'm so sorry, Mommy…" Inseong babbled, on the verge of crying.

Not wanting to overdo it with his emotions just yet, you let go of his hair. He barely managed to feel relief, when you forcibly grabbed his chin.

"You're Mommy's favorite boy, but you need to learn your lesson" you concluded, staring straight into his panicked eyes. "What should I do with you now?"

Inseong went silent, nothing but anticipation pictured on his face.

"Oh, you look way too eager," you said, loosening the grip on Inseong's chin, "Go to the corner, hands on the wall."

"No, please!" Inseong cried out, although you knew very well he was just playing along. "Not the corner!"

"Should I make you go there on your fours?"

The guy mumbled a barely audible I'm sorry and obediently walked to the nearest wall. He took the usual position: propped on his hands, head hanging low, his broad back facing you - obviously, with the round butt presented to you in a shameful way.

To keep him waiting, you first took in the sight, unable to hold back a smirk. You knew soon he would be absolutely wrecked, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment and shining with tears.

Saying you loved your job would be an understatement.

Satisfied, you approached him, clicking of your heels the only sound in the room.

"I guess I have to spank you."

Inseong's head jerked up a little.

"I'm going to do this through your pants, though, and I'm going to use my bare hand only."

Inseong whined, head leaning down to previous position.

"One more complaint and I'm going to shove a plug into your hole and make you stand here for the rest of the night."

"I'm sorry!" He apologized frantically.

It's not like you haven't done that punishment before - you smiled at the memory of him coming untouched - but he really seemed desperate for some action this time.

You came closer and hovered your hand over the perfect curve of Inseong's butt. He trembled under your touch. So, so desperate.

"It's gonna be thirty, because that's how many hours I had to wait between the time you rescheduled to this meeting," you announced, causing Inseong to whimper quietly.

"Can I count?" He asked shyly.

"You're dumb enough to not know your limits, I think counting to thirty would be too much to ask."

With that, you landed the first slap.

You observed Inseong for a couple seconds before continuing. He didn't make a sound, but his arms shook, long fingers folding into fists against the wall. You wondered if he would even last the whole session.

Your predictions would soon turn out to be true: he started whimpering after each hit as soon as you landed the third one. When you approached the tenth, the whimpers turned into screams. Once you passed the first half, all he could do was to moan uncontrollably, his legs shaking so much you were wondering how could he even stand up at that point.

He didn't use the safe word, not even a single word of protest escaped his mouth either, so you knew it was fine to continue. He was so close to breaking. You absolutely adored the feeling of this moment approaching.

Finally, as you were raising your hand to slap Inseong's ass for the twenty seventh time, his knees gave up. The guy sunk down to the floor, still leaning against the wall. That turned out to be too much for him, though - ultimately, he slid his hands down, too.

You looked at him intently: Inseong, resting on all fours, kept trembling, his breathing so loud you could hear it from above. What an absolute mess. You were so amused you decided to end the session on a sweet note; however, your understanding of sweet was very... specific.

"What's that, baby? You can't take it anymore?" You cooed, approaching closer. Your shin brushed against his buttcheek.

"Mommy… I…" Inseong panted, visibly struggling to form a complete sentence. "Can I touch myself? I can't take it anymore…"

You almost laughed at how pained his tone was. Led by curiosity, you kneeled right behind him and leaned to take a close look: indeed, he was tenting in his cute pajama pants. Pathetic.

"Mmm, I'm not sure," you mused. "I don't think you've earned the permission to touch yourself."

"Mommy, please, it hurts," Inseong pleaded. He regained the ability to speak, but his voice started breaking.

"I want you to come, but I also want you to embarrass yourself even more, since you couldn't take your spanking like a good boy," you wondered aloud in an amused tone, "What should I do?"

You knew exactly, but hearing Inseong hold in his breath was worth every second of suspense.

"Anything… I'll do anything…"

Hearing that, you came to conclusion you've had enough of toying with him. You reached to ruffle his hair. He leaned into your touch like a cat.

"Dumb kittens like you don't deserve to be touched directly."

You lodged your thigh inbetween his legs, making him moan loudly at the sudden contact. He felt hard and heavy against your skin through the fabric separating you two.

"Work for it, baby," you commanded.

Inseong didn't need to be told twice. Disregarding all dignity, he started grinding against your thigh, his thrusts becoming more and more furious with time, until he couldn't hold back grunts escaping his mouth. You could feel his cock getting heavier; years of having to keep your urges to yourself during sessions gave you incredible self control, but Inseong's eagerness was turning you on so much you had to think of something quick. To ground yourself, you grabbed onto his hips, helping him grind even harder.

He looked so broken, though - with his head low on the floor, resting on his arms, and his ass high up, relying on you completely in his need for pleasure. The sounds coming out of him weren't making it any easier for you either.

It didn't take him long to finish at this pace. He stilled, arching his back, and came with a delicious, drawn-out moan. You quickly retracted your thigh, as you felt the wetness on his pants coming in contact with your skin.

You let him come down from his high. Once he was fine enough to sit up, you pulled him into a back hug. He sighed happily, leaning against your cleavage.

For good measure, you planted a couple kisses on his cheek and the side of his neck, leaving bright lipstick marks all over; he giggled uncontrollably at your affectionate gesture.

"Thank you, Mommy," Inseong purred, a smile adorning his pretty lips, "My head is so clear now. I feel so much better."

You wondered how he could sound so innocent with a huge wet spot in the front of his pants, not to mention he probably could barely sit with his butt burning from the spanking.

"I hope my baby has a good weekend." You kissed his cheek once again, this time letting your lips linger on his skin for a little longer.

Inseong's legs turned out to be still too wobbly to support him, so you helped him stand up and walked him to the door.

"You're gonna be fine in the shower?" you asked, a bit worried considering his weak state.

"I wish Mommy would join me, but I'm a big boy. I'll manage," he assured you.

To be honest, you wished for the same thing, but business was business, and Inseong was just your customer - no matter how much fun you had ruining him each time.

"Thank you, really. I needed that so much," he said, dropping the character. "See you next week."

You stared at the door for a while after he left, pretty sure there was something that slipped your mind during the meeting.

At last, it hit you: Jaeyoon, probably matching Inseong's ideal buff type, working a 9-to-5 job in some corporation. Could he be your old acquaintance from the BDSM community you met at a self defense course? You wondered for a while at the possibility.

Opening the wardrobe, you briefly rested your eyes on the clock. Seven to twelve. No time to muse over the past; you hoped those two would get together eventually, because if Inseong was the supervisor Jaeyoon couldn't shut up about all those years ago, then… well, they had some catching up to do.

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagine #sf9 smut #inseong smut #inseong thirst #inseong scenario #inseong imagine #inseong x reader #i was away for a while #contemplating shutting down this blog #tell me if you liked this one :(

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

Text

The Unsaid (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend Halloween doing something unforgettable.

Category: Smut *NSFW Content 18+ A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I promise I’ll try to improve and not make it so cringy next time Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: cursing, choking, unprotected sex/creampie, penetrative sex, Dom! Spencer Word Count: 4.3K

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Call it cliche, but you looked fucking hot.

Pigtails on either side of your head were tied with a red ribbon bow. Your white polo button up wasn’t buttoned at all but rather, secured with a knot right at your sternum. The shirt was pulled so taut, cleavage was showing. Just south of your red plaid, pleated mini skirt was white knee high socks with little bows at the top seam. You wanted to wear black heels, but they would’ve killed you by the end of the night, so you settled for the next best thing - black high top Chucks.

Hell yeah - you were a sexy schoolgirl. Granted, you had to keep it somewhat P.G for the younger trick-or-treaters, but you didn’t mind giving the hot single dad’s a little show. At some point, you actually stopped checking the peephole and took your chances, not minding running the risk of high school trick-or-treaters on your doorstep seeing a little more leg than deemed appropriate. After hours of handing out candy, you tried not to lose your charm despite your exhaustion. That worked in your favor.

When you heard your doorbell ring, something in you told you that it wasn’t a little kid knocking, so you provocatively leaned on the door frame once you opened it. And your instincts were right - for the most part.

At first glance, it was like you were looking at a living paradox. His boyishly charming face and unwillingness to meet your eyes for longer than a couple seconds made him seem so young but how he was dressed reminded you of your grandpa’s church attire. Unabashedly, you eyed him up and down, whereas he was looking . . . respectfully. Yeah - that’s the word. Respectfully.

You crossed your arms over your chest, making your breasts push together further. This caught his eye, but he tried to pretend it didn’t.

“Mmm, alright, I give up. Whatcha dressed as? Sexy professor?” You flirted. He cleared his throat, evidently unused to the forwardness you were exhibiting. “A federal agent actually,” He answered, flipping open a badge to reveal his credentials. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your demeanor completely changed. Your posture straightened out and you dropped the smirk on your face. You were rendered speechless, so you wordlessly nodded.

“My name’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Um, can I come inside?” His voice was so sweet, it was misleading. Were you in trouble? If so, why was he being so nice?

You did your best not to feel scrutinized while he observed the interior of your house. He was paying special attention to all of the Halloween decors. You thought you saw him smiling as he accidentally walked through a fake spider web because he was so tall. You took the seat straight across from him making things feel sort of like a homemade interrogation, what with the singular dim light hanging above the two of you as you sat opposite one another.

“I think maybe I should change into something more . . . appropriate.” You were about to get up from your seat when he stood up and put his hand up to stop you.

“That won’t be necessary. Here.” He jerked his dark gray cardigan off of himself and handed it to you before sitting back down. You stood there, clutching his large sweater in your hand. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to process.

“Um, thank you.” You slipped it over yourself and pulled it closed across your chest with crossed arms.

“Yeah, no problem.” He said with cool indifference. You thought this would’ve been a bigger deal - an FBI agent handing you his sweater - but his display of equanimity made you choose not to pay any more attention to it than you already did.

He began asking you questions about the neighborhood, the people, even about the town. You became acutely uneasy with every question you answered, hoping you were saying the right things. It wasn’t like you were guilty of anything, but being interrogated like this just put you on-edge. You hoped that he was able to distinguish that the source of your anxiousness came from the situation, and not from any possible criminal activity that could be related to the case he was working on.

As curious as you were about why he was asking these questions, to begin with, you thought it might actually be better not to know. Otherwise, you might grow paranoid, but still, you couldn’t help but ask the obvious - “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all. And if you do find something suspicious, just give me a call.” He reached inside his satchel and retrieved a card to hand to you with all of his contact information on it.

“So how do I know you’re not actually the guy I should be suspicious of and this was all just to get me off your radar? Or a ruse to get into my house?” You joked, flipping the card between your index and middle finger.

He had to chuckle at this. “Well, if you truly suspected something about me, why would you open the door for me?” He crossed his arms and put them on the table. “What was it about me that told you I was trustworthy enough to cross the threshold?”

Without missing a beat, you told him, “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

You’d never spoken with that kind of confidence or speed before, but something incredibly right about what you said.

He wouldn’t hurt you. You just knew.

“What makes you think I won’t?” His question sounded serious, but you swore there was some sort of a sexual undertone in his voice.

You tried to think of a satisfactory answer, but all you knew for sure what that your gut was telling you he wasn’t bad. Maybe it was something soft about his eyes, maybe the color that resembled sweet honey.

“A hunch, I guess?”

He seemed delighted that his smoldering intensity had an effect on you. He was proud of how the heat of this moment alone shook your confident core. He caused you to revert back into a blubbering mess after he looked at you. You were intimidated by him.

“So you’re not scared of me?” However, you chose to answer him would build up his ego either way. Because even if you lied, your body language wouldn’t. It would tell the truth and nothing but.

You tried your best to make your voice smooth, and free of shakiness caused by fear. “No, I’m not scared of you.”

‘Well, you should be.’ His eyes seemed to say.

That’s when he reached both hands onto one side of the table and pushed, causing the table to slide out of the way. Like how a prey bolts when the predator nears, you shot up from the chair and backed up into the nearest wall. Theoretically, it wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to escape, but you didn’t want to escape - you wanted him to attack. You liked it.

Spencer’s massive hands encased your neck completely, occasionally adjusting the force with which he used to choke you. Sometimes he’d let go, just for a second, so you could breathe, but it only made things crueler because, in the next breath, or lack thereof, he’d tighten his grip and choke out any air you were gasping for. Before you started seeing stars, you watched his eyes. They were darker than wine. He was enjoying this.

While your head lolled backward, the rest of your body seemed to tranquilize too. You had no control of your movements, so your body was shed of his cardigan when your arms straightened by your sides. You were like a rag doll. A toy.

You were completely submissive to him. He had you under a spell that was cast by the magic of his dominant touch.

“Still think I won’t hurt you?” He growled into your ear. He was so close you could actually smell him and feel the heat radiating off his body.

He loosened the noose he made with his hands so you could speak.

“You want to . . . but you won’t.” You replied between short breaths.

Finally, he removed his hands completely, making your feet crash hard onto the ground. You didn’t even grasp that he was suffocating you using such a firm grip that you actually levitated off the ground. He managed to hold all of your weight and lift you up just by bracing your neck.

“You can hurt me if you want,”

He looked too eager to hear you say that, making you want to fight for dominance.

“But only if I get to do what I want to do, too.”

His sweet honey eyes intensified with fervor.

He put one hand on the wall and leaned forward, shortening the distance between you two. Soon enough your faces are millimeters apart. You look down at his soft lips with doe eyes, so he feels comfortable making the first move to kiss you. At first, it’s gentle and hesitant. A total departure from the dominance he was displaying just seconds before. But then he sneaks his free hand into your hair and pushes your head slightly to deepen the kiss.

Not even meaning to, he bucked his hips forward, making your back arch against the wall. Reid takes this opportunity to remove his hand from the wall and place it on the small of your back. Slowly and sloppily, he moves away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses down your chin, neck, and onto your collarbone. Meanwhile, his hand has traveled up to the knot that secured your button up, and in one swift tug, the knot came undone.

“You are way too good at that.” You breathlessly acknowledge, shrugging the shirt off of yourself.

You feel him smirk against your skin.

Cocky bastard.

His ever growing desire to see more of you overcomes him, and he can’t stop after just removing your shirt. So with the same unbridled passion he used to choke you, he pulled at the hem of your skirt, forcing it down and off of you. Threads practically ripped at the vigor of his actions.

He must’ve recognized a look in your eyes that said he was a little overdressed in comparison to you because he didn’t stop you when you pulled at his tie and worked it free, so he could unbutton his shirt.

With your body nearly bare and the only thing stopping him from railing you being his pants, he continued the deed. Reid puts a hand on the back of your thigh to hike your leg up. You gasp at the hasty change in positions. He was as ravenous as a predator, but his hunger was something only you could satiate - and he was hungry for more.

Spencer left a trail of wet kisses from your collarbone, to your sternum, and then along your tummy. All the while, your leg is still hiked up. When Spencer goes on bended knee, your leg rests on his shoulder, keeping your legs spread out.

“Tell me what you want.” He commands, before placing slow kisses along your inner thigh.

“I-” You’re at a total loss for words as Spencer’s kisses deliberately inch closer and closer.

“Is this what you want?”

In an almost chivalrous way, rather than taking your panties off and leaving you completely exposed, he pulls them to one side, giving him complete access.

“Yes. Yes.” You cry out, while you watch Spencer briskly lick his middle and ring finger.

Your body betrays you when he grazes his fingers along your lips, teasing you. You’re almost certain your legs would’ve given out underneath you if it hadn’t been for Reid stabilizing you with a steady hand on the leg that wasn’t hooked over his shoulder.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He purrs, slowly easing into the penetration. It’s almost worse having him enter you so unhurriedly as the process of adjusting to his fingers is drawn out. He refuses to increase his speed, wanting to see her beg for more.

“Does that feel good?”

You nod.

“Use your words, love.”

“Yes, yes, it does.”

Your validation does the trick. He begins to sink into you deeper and faster. You begin to fight for breath as Spencer curls his fingers. Until he knows you’re on the brink of finishing, his pace is relentless. You were so close, but devilishly, he pulled out.

“Spencer!” You yell, but before enough of your scream makes a sound, he plunges his fingers deep into your mouth, to taste yourself on them. This gesture is well received as you begin to suck on his fingers, pleasing him greatly.

“Good girl.” He utters.

You let your eyes drop from his honey ones to the growing bulge in his pants. For you cannot speak, you peer down at his pants and up at his eyes to ask for permission. He nods once and watches as you begin to unzip his trousers.

As you palm him through his briefs, you feel the warmth of his precum through the fabric. Without being able to control yourself, you lowered his briefs just enough to completely reveal him. Your eyes enlarge at the sight.

“You like that?” He coos.

You still can’t speak with Spencer’s fingers in your mouth so you nod instead.

Graciously, Spencer gives you room to breathe by taking his appendages out of your mouth and uses them instead to grip your hips and turn you away from him. He slammed the front of your body into the wall, causing your cheek to press against it.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” It was so bewildering how he managed to say things like that, proving he cared about you, but still dominated you with unrelenting aggression.

“Do you want me to wear -” You didn’t even let him finish his question. You cut him off by arching your butt so it would graze over his cock. In this, you gave him your answer. Your body yearned for him and you desperately needed to feel him raw.

Unlike when he was fingering you earlier, he accelerated his movements. He fucked you with an animalistic speed. You didn’t even have time to adjust to his full length before he pulled back and thrust again. His pelvis rammed into your ass so hard with each forward movement that would surely leave bruises on you both.

What you felt was indescribable. The pain would be quickly replaced by pleasure, only for you to feel pain again. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. He was hurting you, but in the best kind of way. Your bodies were tangling and merging. The heat that circulated in the air around you and the humidity emitting from your skin was ruthless.

On fire.

That’s what you felt - on fucking fire.

Spencer’s strokes picked up and started hitting you in a spot that made you cry out in anguish. You actually started standing on the balls of your feet, practically tip-toeing. With your palms pushed against the wall, it was only a matter of time before you clawed a hole into it. Truthfully, a guy never made you cum before, so this was a completely new feeling. It was like pressure was building up inside of you and you had to release it, but right when you thought you’d come undone, the pressure only increased. Neither you nor Spencer had to vocalize that you were reaching your peaks because your bodies were saying everything unsaid. And just when you thought the air couldn’t get stickier, and the heat couldn’t get hotter, you and Spencer came at the same time. The only word you could use to describe the feeling was sublime. Not the sex (well partially the sex of course) but Spencer.

Sublime.

His pace slowed down exponentially while he drew you closer to him to leave butterfly kisses along your shoulder. His arms enveloped you at his waist, and you almost indulged in his embrace by leaning into his chest, but there was no time when the doorbell rang.

“Trick-or-treat!” A group of kids yelled from outside.

You looked behind you exchanging looks that read, ‘Oh shit.’

Spencer flipped the light switch off that was right beside you before you took his hand and ran with him down the hallway giggling.

Here you were - two grown ups running from kids that wanted candy. How childish.

It was the combination of being choked, having sex, and running that left you breathless, but after a few minutes your heartbeat slowed down.

“I think they’re gone.” Spencer observed.

You trusted he was right and retreated from the room with extra caution. You reached into the dark to feel for the light switch. After the lights came back on, you saw Spencer crouching down, gathering your clothes off the floor.

You wanted to stop him to save him the inconvenience, but he was already helping you back into your clothes before you could even say, “I’ve got it.”

Spencer gingerly slid your mini skirt up your legs, frowning slightly at the tear in it that he caused. It was like evidence of his roughness, and he didn’t like it.

“Sorry about that.” He murmured.

You told him not to worry and that the rip made the skirt look cooler, which you could tell didn’t lessen his guilt, but it was good enough to make him smile and that was the intention anyway. Next to dress you in was the button up, and you had to laugh when, instead of tying a knot at the front, he opted for buttoning it up all the way to the collar. It was like he was trying to protect your modesty and dress you to look more respectable. Last to put on was his cardigan. After a small comment about letting you keep it, he started redressing. This is a moment you duly noted.

He took care of you first.

Was it stupid to fawn over such a small thing? Him helping you dress up first before he even dressed himself?

Your thoughts carried you so far away you didn’t even realize he already finished dressing and was putting on his messenger bag.

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You nudged his shoulder with your index finger trying to be lighthearted, even though the heavy weight of your inevitable goodbye was weighing on you.

He chuckled and licked his lips before responding. “Happy Halloween.”

You turned around to begin the miserable walk toward the door, while he was right on your heels, following closely behind. You opened the door for him to walk through and you smiled as the two of you lingered in the doorway. Evidently, neither one of you was quite ready to say goodbye.

Your mouth must’ve become a completely separate entity since you started hearing words rolling off your tongue without even processing them beforehand. “I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me not because of what you said or what you did, but because of what you didn’t say or what you didn’t do.”

There was something about the unsaid and the undone that told you everything about the unknown.

With an understanding nod, Spencer took a step away from the threshold.

He kept his head down and his eyes on the floor as he walked away with his hands in his pockets. The hopeless romantic in you wished he would look over his shoulder and back at you, or stop walking and turn around and run back up to you, but he didn’t. You almost thought he’d stop at the gate and say something, but no. He didn’t say a single thing. And for some reason, that was okay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You clasped your black push up bra behind your back, adjusting it in the front for maximum cleavage. Then you put on fishnets and a pair of black booty shorts. Last to put on was a white polo button up. That’s when you remembered it was the exact same shirt you wore for last year’s costume. It was weirdly nostalgic. You only fastened the shirt until it hid your midriff, but left the buttons that would expose your bra unclasped.

To say what happened next felt like some supernatural spirit came into the room with you would be a gross understatement, because as soon as you stopped buttoning your shirt, you could see and feel Spencer’s ghost in front of you buttoning the rest. All the way up to the collar just as he did last year.

So, just for Spencer, you fastened one extra button.

You painted fake blood under your nose and straightened your hair, which wasn’t giving off the desired effect. A black wig or a prop cigarette would’ve made your costume much more clear, but you’d been too lazy this year to obtain either of those things, so really the only obvious sign of who you were was the bloody nose.

Mia Wallace. Pulp Fiction.

Before stepping out of the house to join your friends, you put on thigh high black boots.

Luckily, they all saw what you were going for with your costume, so you felt slightly better, but there was still something weighing on your heart that kept you at a distance from your friends tonight.

Handing out candy to trick-or-treaters wasn’t really your speed this year, so you opted for joining your friends at a club. At first, you were able to convince yourself that you were having fun and that you weren’t completely miserable, but as the night continued, it became harder to lie to yourself. You weren’t having fun. Sitting in the silence here was most definitely not fun. Not to say the club was quiet, but you were. And the silence was deafening. See with Spencer, when you didn’t speak, whether it was when he left you that night wordlessly, or when you came together without even vocalizing that you would, the silence was okay. It was welcome. But here tonight, watching your friends enjoy themselves on the dance floor - the silence was suffocating. The longer you sat there watching them, the more you noticed how they weren’t calling you onto the dance floor to join them. No one cared to include you. It felt like a sign. That you should leave, because if your presence didn’t matter, your absence wouldn’t either. So you slipped out of the club, not surprised that no one saw you and stopped you or begged you to stay. You got into your car and instantly unzipped your boots. No wonder you wore converse last year, heels hurt like hell. When you threw the shoes into the backseat, you caught a glimpse of something lying on the floor.

Dark gray cardigan.

You’d forgotten that that was even there. Would it be weird to wear it again? It was a cold autumn night, and it wasn’t like you were wearing much to shield you from the cold, so merely for the warmth, you put on the cardigan.

You were in such a rush to be in your own bed again that you probably broke a couple traffic laws. After all, there wasn’t anything quite like seeing your house again after hours of wanting to be home.

But then again, nothing could compare to seeing Spencer Reid sitting on your doorstep reading. Absolutely nothing.

“Spencer?” You asked while blinking hard to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You didn’t know how you could tell it was him, but there was something in you that just knew. The same kind of gut feeling that told you he wouldn’t hurt you.

He looked up from his book and shut it with a smile when he saw you. You opened the gate and met him halfway in the walkway.

“You still have my cardigan,” He laughed while taking in the sight. “Mia Wallace, right?”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him. In the light, you could actually make out his features. He looked older now. His hair was longer and much curlier than you remembered. He even had some scruff on his face.

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You recited the exact words you said and poked him in the shoulder just as you did last year.

“Happy Halloween.” He grinned, immediately understanding the reference.

“So . . . who are you dressed as this year?” It was only a playful question, but it seemed like he was ready to give you a serious answer.

Though his looks were deceiving and telling you that Spencer changed, his behavior told you he was still the same Spencer he was before. He looked everywhere except for right at you as he tried to think with an answer, and when he finally did speak, he couldn’t meet your eyes for very long. He still had his boyish charm.

“I, um, I’m dressed as someone who didn’t get very much sleep, spontaneously booked a flight, and came straight here to tell you he needed to see you again.”

“Mmm, very cool costume.” You quipped. When your laughs died off, a new type of silence emerged. It was very different from the kind you were drowning in at the club earlier. This time, the quietude was rejuvenating. The two of you were simply taking in the feeling of being in each other’s presence again.

“Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?” You asked, quoting Mia Wallace.

Of course, he knew what the next line was. “I don’t know. That’s a good question.” He replied, quoting Vincent Vega.

“That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.”

With that, the comfortable quietude returned to fall upon the two of you again, but you enjoyed it because you’d found somebody special that made things like silence sublime.

So much more was said in the unsaid.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid one shot #imagine

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toxophilitis · 3 years

Text

Hot Daughter Peeps cont.

CHAPTER TWO

Tracy found what she was looking for on Saturday afternoon, after her mother left the house.

Carol said, "Honey, I think I'll go visit with Tina this afternoon. Bob's gone to a ballgame and she's all alone with the kids. Why don't you just amuse yourself this afternoon and I'll be back around five, to fix dinner?"

"Sure, Mom," Tracy said brightly. "Enjoy yourself. Give Tina a hug for me."

She smiled to herself as she watched from the window as her mother drove away. She didn't believe for a minute that Carol was going to her friends house. That was just an excuse to go meet her secret lover, what's-his-name, Tracy was sure.

She giggled with excitement and pranced into her mother's room. She searched the dresser drawers. She looked under the bed. She found what she was looking for in a shoe box on a closet shelf. She carried the box to her mother's bed and sat down with it.

Inside, she found two rather raunchy magazines, and a long, white plastic dildo with a battery in it. Her blue eyes widened with growing interest as they scanned color photos of men and women fucking in every position possible.

"Oh, wow!" she breathed, her eyes devouring the pictures.

Halfway through the first magazine, she found a huge photo of a beautiful blonde woman sucking the enormous hard-on of a beautiful hunk. The blonde's mouth was stretched wide on that massive cock and Tracy found herself breathing faster and licking her lips as she imagined what cock-sucking must be like.

She turned the pages with fingers that began to tremble a little. Her breathing quickened. Her tits got hard. The tickle in her belly started up. Her pussy tingled.

In the second magazine she found a series of photos of a lovely brunette, stark-naked, fucking herself with a vibrator. They were very instructive, especially since Tracy just happened to have a vibrator at hand.

She lifted the object gingerly in her hand and examined it carefully. It was long and thick and when she turned it on, it vibrated in her fist. She held it tightly and looked at some more of the instructive pictures. Being a bright girl, she quickly put two and two together.

The tickle deep in her belly, which she was beginning to love and crave, started to spread to her tits and cunt. She got warm all over. Driven by a sudden sense of urgency, she jumped to her feet.

With the vibrator firmly in hand, as if she was afraid to set it down anywhere, she ran into the living room and locked the front door. Then she pranced back to her mother's room and quickly pulled the shade down against the bright afternoon sun -- and the watchful eyes of the next-door neighbor, Mr. Benson.

He was an old man to Tracy -- over fifty -- and he always leered at her. She simply avoided him, even though deep down in her heart she felt a little sorry for him. His wife had left him and he lived alone now.

Assured of privacy, she returned to her mother's bed and the exciting photos. Impelled by the demanding tickle in her young belly, she slipped out of her sandals and stripped off her dress. Stark-naked and feeling horny, she sat in the middle of the bed with the magazines and vibrator.

Her curious young eyes glued to a real stiff looking cock standing straight up in the center of the page, all pink and thick and swollen. It looked enormous to her inexperienced eyes and it took her breath away. Free to look at it all she wanted, she examined it carefully.

Her left hand slipped across the glossy picture, as if she could feel the prick. She rubbed it lightly and examined it closely, breathing hotly. Her right hand brought the vibrator over to her exposed young cunt.

She glanced down and guided the plastic dildo over her peach fuzz, then over her puffy young cunt-lips. Her little clit stood up real fast, and she pressed the vibrating device right there.

"Oh!" she gasped.

She didn't know what to do then. Look at the photo or massage her cunt. She got all mixed up and frustrated and anxious and excited, all at once. Breathing heavily though her parted lips, she stroked her pussy up and down with the buzzing vibrator as her eyes ate the picture up.

She stretched her thighs wider and ran the vibrator all over horny young crotch as her shaky fingers turned the pages of the stimulating magazine. Her eyes danced over photos of pricks of every size and shape. She had never seen so many cocks in one place in all her life. It was terribly exciting.

In some pictures, women sucked the stiff cocks. In others, they guided them into their bushy cunts. In yet another, Tracy saw something that really turned her on -- a sexy lady on her hands and knees, sucking a big cock while another handsome guy was fucking her cunt from behind, doggie-fashion.

Inflamed by the photo, she raised the vibrator to her lips and slipped her mouth over it. She turned it off to suck on it slowly and experimentally. Staring hotly at the picture, she worked the sex toy in and out of her mouth and sucked like she knew what she was doing. "Mmmm," she moaned on it.

She liked the feel of it in her young mouth. It stretched her lips nicely, just enough to give her the powerful illusion of actually sucking a huge cock. Making believe she was the pretty woman in the picture, she sucked the dildo hornily and she even had the sense to swirl her tongue round and round on it. A vibrator, she thought, playfully, must be a big girl's lollipop.

The tickle in her belly flared and she lowered the saliva-soaked sex toy to her pussy. She jerked on the bed at the first touch and when she turned it on, she soon realized that a girl can't keep it against her clit for too long at a time. The sensations were mind-boggling.

Her hot young eyes darted to the other cock in the picture, the thick one stuck halfway in the woman's tight cunt. Staring hard, Tracy worked the buzzing dildo up and down her cuntcrack. She inched the tip between her pussylips-and moaned.

Her pussy-hole was wet and the plastic slipped easily along her cunt-slit. She drew the tip of it upward to her quivery little clit, jumped at the touch, then moaned as she slid it wetly back down again. Her pussy twitched and turned against the foreign object.

Looking at the raunchy photo and rubbing her cunt with the vibrator as it buzzed made her pussy very hot. She knew she could cum this way, very easily, more easily than without all this stimulation. And she suddenly understood why her mother owned these toys.

The tickle in her belly had become licking, fucking flames in her young body. Panting softly, she circled her pussy-slot with the end of the dildo. Her cunt started circling, too, in a very horny way. Tracy knew that her hesitation would fly right out the window and that she would fuck on this plastic cock.

Her free hand came over to help. Both hands caressed the sex toy almost affectionately, as if it were attached to a sensitive man. Breathless with anticipation, eager to try it, she inched the end of the toy into her hot, wet pussy-hole. Her cunt-lips parted willingly and her cunt-mouth opened as if it was hungry for the thing.

Just an inch of the thick sex toy wedged in her pussy was enough to make Tracy moan. The thrill that shot through her young body overwhelmed her and she had to lay back on the bed. Her fingers trembled on the dildo as she eased another inch of it into her cunt. "Ohhhh, mama!" she panted.

The buzzing object slid easily into her juicy little cunt-hole and Tracy was pleasantly surprised. She drew her knees up and spread them real wide and guided the vibrator up into her hungry little cunt. It was the experience of her lifetime.

Four inches of the sex toy filled her tight, young pussy and the very end of it nudged her cherry. She was afraid to push it in any farther, so she fucked on the four inches. The buzz traveled through her cunt and even up her quivering little clit. The fuck-feelings drove her crazy.

"Oh, wow," she panted, churning her pussy on the sliding toy. "So this is what it's like! Ohhhh!"

She grew hornier by the second as she fucked herself with the vibrator. Gripping the device more tensely in both hands, she lifted her cute little ass up off the bed and twisted her cunt round and round as she fucked the dildo into her cunt.

Her lovely young body grew taut on the bed and she strained as she fucked on the plastic joy giver. She fucked it into her cunt faster and faster, panting in time with each fuck-thrust. Her eyes glassed over and her lips fell apart as she gasped for breath.

Passion welled up inside her like a floodtide and threatened to drown her in a sea of ecstasy. Her pussy got hotter and hotter and seemed to open wide for the dildo as if to gobble it up. Tracy whimpered and moaned and choked occasionally as she fucked herself silly.

"Fuck!" she suddenly blurted.

She had never used that word. She'd thought only bad girls said such things. But now, in the throes of extreme pleasure, she squealed.

"Ohhh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Horny out of her mind, she felt her eyes roll in her head. Her tits tightened up and her ass swirled on the bed as her hands drilled the sex toy into her cunt again and again. She grunted and groaned and even gurgled as she fucked herself good for the first time. How she kept from busting her cherry, she never knew.

Her terribly aroused passion exploded in the middle of her tummy and seemed to streak through her right into her brain and pussy. The incredible pressure of her mounting passion was enough to render her senseless. Mind-boggling rushes of feeling made her fuck hornily on the sex toy.

"Uh-uh-uhhhh," she grunted like a hot little animal.

Her tits grew tight and her pink nipples spiked hard. Her young hips twisted violently and her cute little ass churned. Her pussy-mouth sucked wetly on the drilling dildo as it reamed in and out of her cunt. It was her best orgasm ever.

"Ohhhh, wowwwww," she cooed as she came.

The dam burst in her heaving belly and cummy pleasure flooded her body. She humped and writhed hotly on the bed as she fucked herself with her mother's vibrator. She grit her teeth as surge after surge of orgasmic joy rippled through her young body. Her wet pussy spasmed repeatedly as her hot ass bounced happily on the bed.

"Oh, ohh, ohhhhh," she moaned as she surrendered to the overwhelming climax.

She gave herself up to it completely and she was beautiful on the bed, rocking and jerking with the buzzing dildo plunging into her soaked pussy.

"Ummmm," she moaned finally and a trembling finger turned the vibrator off.

She pulled another inch of it up into her cunt and held it lodged there. She shut her thighs and rolled onto her side, then lay there panting for breath as her pussy choked the sex toy. Her eyes closed lazily and a slow smile curled her pretty lips. She curled up with the dildo in her cunt as contentedly as she had curled up with her teddy bear when she was a little girl.

She didn't know she had dozed off until the ringing of the telephone awakened her abruptly. She gasped and bolted up. She started to swing her legs off the bed when the movement reminded her that the vibrator was still, stuck up her pussy. She giggled and quickly pulled the dildo out of her cunt, all wet and glistening.

The phone rang again and in a panic, Tracy tried to conceal the magazines and the vibrator under the pillows. It took a second for her to realize that the caller couldn't see her. Then she laughed at herself and lifted the phone on the third ring. It was her mother.

"Tracy, honey, I know I promised to be back at five to fix dinner, but Tina really needs me here. Would you mind fixing yourself a TV dinner?"

Tracy stood naked with one hand between her hot thighs, gently rubbing her purring pussy.

"Not at all, Mom. No problem. When do you think you'll be home?"

"I'll try to be home by ten. Okay? You can watch television until I get there."

Tracy inserted a naughty finger up into her recently fucked cunt and smiled with pleasure. "Sure, Mom," she said brightly. "Take your time. I'll be all right."

"Make sure all the doors are locked," Carol reminded her.

"They already are, Mom."

"Good girl. Enjoy your evening. See you around ten."

Tracy hung up the phone, feeling suddenly free and happy. She had the whole house to herself until ten o'clock. Her blue eyes danced over the magazines and the vibrator and her young tits rose up.

"I can have an orgy!" she laughed.

She didn't bother dressing at all. She pranced into the kitchen and fixed herself peanut butter sandwiches and cold milk. She ate quickly, anxious to return to the bedroom. As she ate, she thought about her mother. She must be having lots of fun with that guy, she concluded.

On her way to her mother's room, she stopped in her own, intending to pull the shade. Instead, she froze at the window and her heart leaped into her throat. In the house next door, just across the driveway, was another window. Inside, seated naked on his sofa with his fist full of stiff cock, was Al Benson.

Tracy's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp as her young eyes traveled all over the nude guy who was slowly jerking on his prick. Then her eyes focused on that spot, the big fist gripping a cock so tightly, moving up and down so sexily. She blushed.

As if caught in a naughty act, she suddenly whirled away from the window and pressed her back against the wall, breathing rapidly, half from fright, half from excitement.

"Holy cow!" she rasped.

Her young mind tried to take it all in at once. This was different than looking at a photo of a man jerking his prick. This was for real. Maybe he had to do that now that his wife was gone. Poor man.

Tracy suddenly laughed at herself. What was she frightened about? So the man was horny? So what? So was she. And she got herself off with the vibrator. Why shouldn't Mr. Benson masturbate?

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vegalocity · 3 years

Text

The Story (red groom AU)

I wasn't gonna make you guys suffer too long with the Bad End Alternate end lol, here have a more comedic part of the Princess Bride AU, picks up directly after the last part

“Grandpaaaaa you said you'd skip over the kissing stuff!”

“Sheesh! Complain complain! You know one day you're gonna WANT to start kissin' people and parts like this 'll be WAY more interesting to you!”

“Gross!”

“Fine fine! To tell the truth, the big romantic gesture of the Prince reuniting with his love Qi Xiaotian was rather short lived, you'll remember Prince Red Son had quite the temper and though his true rage had been quelled by the realization that Xiaotian had been alive this whole time, the prince had plenty more to be angry with him over-”

–

“WHY! DID! YOU! NEVER! SEND! WORD!” every word was punctuated by a smack to Xiaotian's shoulder as the two of them began to venture through the forest, in attempts to shake Red Son's likely murderous fiance while at the same time make their way to safety. “I! THOUGHT! YOU! DEAD! I! MOURNED! YOU! FOR! TWO! WHOLE! YEARS!”

Xiaotian was taking the assault with good humor, Red Son's anger was second to none, but his body was still weak from his attempt attack him earlier and with little strength in his limbs from burn wounds abound Xiaotian was carrying him through the forest, so his blows were barely inspiring feeling let alone pain.

“And I'll be apologizing for that in everything I do for another ten.” He agreed as Red Son paused for breath, turning his head to nudge Red Son's cheek with his nose. “and for every tear you've shed over it I swear to make you laugh ten times more.”

The Prince turned as red as his hair at such a declaration before stiffly reaching upward to pull a thin branch out of the way of hitting either of them as they continued on their path.

“...Why are you taking the Monkey King's title? Was the whole story they told back home a lie?”

“...Well it wasn't entirely a lie- oh thank you.”

“I did meet the Monkey King, he was just as great as the stories say.” the sun glistened in Xiaotian's eyes as he began the story.

“But I'd kindaaaa been kidnapped by some bandits at the time and was next on the menu when they'd ran into Sun Wukong's caravan. Eating ME was set aside at the opportunity to eat Tang Sanzang instead, but like, what, was I gonna let a bunch of jerks EAT the Golden Cicada? So I helped him escape just as Sun Wukong broke down the doors to their stronghold to rescue his master.

“This is the part that was truthful, since Sun Wukong thought I was another bandit and was gearing up to take care of me too, I pleaded my case, said 'please' to him and got his curiosity. I don't think he belived me, but his master took then to speak up and insist I was honest, as I'd helped free him.

“He still didn't trust me, but since I had nowhere else to go I ended up traveling with them for a small bit of time. With his true sight Sun Wukong knew I was human, but that didn't mean he knew if I was a threat or not, which... you know... fair... But I helped them a couple more times for when their master was stolen by other demon lords looking to make a meal out of him- and hoo boy aren't we lucky that your dad is smarter than to pick a fight with the Monkey King because seeing him fight up close is... wow...”

“Don't underestimate my father Noodle Boy.” Red Son responded reflexively.

“Haha, sorry. But anyway, one day Sun Wukong pulls me aside, still in view of his brothers and master so I don't think he's gonna kill me or anything, but... like... yeah I'm expecting him to tell me I'd overstayed my welcome with their traveling party and it was time for me to get lost.” He set Red Son down on the side of a massive tree trunk to hop the short distance to the ground and lifting him back up. “So imagine my surprise when the first thing out of his mouth is 'How would you like to be the Great Sage Equaling Heaven?'”

Red Son's expression dropped, surprise raising his brow. Xiaotian chuckled. “Yeah that was my reaction too. But he says that he'd been keeping an eye on me, and he could tell I was someone 'reliable' which... you know if he'd ever spoken to my father that would be a short lived assessment, but I digress. He tells me that right now he's just really focused on getting his master where he needs to go, and he's constantly getting kidnapped and making his job harder, but even harder still it gets when people recognize him and from his reputation tailor their kidnappings just to aggravate him in specific. How at this juncture, no matter how much it pleased him to know his name still brought fear into his enemies, it was doing him more harm than good.”

“So he gave me this and taught me to use it.” he nods to the staff “Honestly it's just a really well made fake, enchanted to still grow and shrink at will, but he needs his staff to protect his master, so it has to do.”

“B-But! What about the village? If The Monke- if Sun Wukong is on the pilgrimmage still then where did that story come from?”

“Oh that village was long abandoned: plague... but an excellent background for theatrics! And to test out my acting chops! Here check this out!”he placed Red Son down again, this time he had the strength (barely) to remain on his feet if leaned against a tree trunk.

Xiaotian cleared his throat “Okay, so Sun Wukong had shapeshifted into a bug, and he was hiding in Tang Sanzang's cassock, he was standing about- there...” he gestured toward Red Son before hopping up atop a felled tree trunk. “And I was here, but like, on top of a burning house because I can't summon the cloud, which is a shame because that would have been so much more visually striking. Anyway, I was in that form I was in earlier, oh uh- Change!” a puff of smoke and he looked the part of a dark furred macaque again. “and-” he cleared his throat again, puffed out his chest, and leaned into that persona that had made him so unrecognizable to Red Son hours ago.

Now he found himself a fool because he couldn't miss the excited gleam in Xiaotian's eye showing how eager he was to pretend for a time to be his hero that revealed the truth with an ease so clear it was almost staggering.

“You great bunch of fools! Did you really think I'd remain loyal upon the removal of that wretched circlet?! Did you really think that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven would ever fall into anyone's lines but his own?! Truly monk you are the greatest fool of them all! I shall spare your lives for no matter how delightful slaughtering you all would be I'd rather be rid of you fools far sooner than that would allow! But Know this Monk! Every drop of blood spilled by my hand could have been avoided if you were less of a trusting fool!” He cackled and slammed his false-staff into the ground, flipping into the air once. “-except I did that off the roof and vanished into the trees. I think I made quite the exit.”

“... So it was all a ruse?”

“Well, I've been the Monkey King ever since. The Heavenly court know what happened so nobody's been giving me any trouble upstairs so long as I don't go power crazy and go on a rampage or something which... yeah probably not...” he chuckled and returned back to Red Son's side.

“So you think 'the Great Sage Equal to Heaven' is a fancy enough title for your parents to approve of a courtship? Sun Wukong used to be allies with your family, might ease things a bit.”

Red Son couldn't fight off the smile. “My parents will likely know you're not the 'original' Monkey King. You're gonna have to explain it to them.”

“My love I'll sit through hours of cross examinations to get to ask for your hand in the proper way.” Xiaotian took Red Son's least damaged hand in one of his own and pressed a kiss to the knuckles there. Red Son pushed away from him and began to take a few shaky steps forward.

“I'm still plenty angry at you for letting me think you dead... But I suppose I understand the safety issue that would have arisen if a letter containing that information was intercepted.”

He was very pointedly NOT looking at the big grin Xiaotian was sending him, as if he did he would be overwhelmed again by joy at his love being with him again, and he would like to cling to his frustration a bit longer, as then he wouldn't be a useless giddy mess who desired nothing but to press kiss after kiss to that face and listen to every story from every single day he'd missed.

There was time for that later, when they were safe. They'd have all the time in the world for all the stories there were to tell and all the affections there were to share.

But they weren't safe yet.

As evidenced by the shaking step forward Red Son took that immediately gave way beneath him, and he fell into a sinkhole.

#Red groom AU #spicynoodleshipping #vega writes stories too #Princess Bride AU #LMK

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