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lanabuckybarnes · 28 days

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Sergeant’s Got You

18+ Minors DNI

You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags

Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader

Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*

You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.

Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.

“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.

You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.

You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.

He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.

“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.

He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.

He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.

“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.

He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.

He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.

“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.

“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.

“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.

“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.

“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.

“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.

Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.

“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.

“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.

He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.

Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.

“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.

Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.

His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.

“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.

You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.

“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.

“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.

“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.

“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.

“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.

“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.

He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.

He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.

His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.

“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.

His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.

“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.

You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.

Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.

“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.

“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.

“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.

He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.

He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.

“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.

With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.

“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.

He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.

“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.

“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.

“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.

“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.

His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.

You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.

“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.

“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”

“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.

“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.

“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.

Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.

So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.

I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.

I hope you enjoyed x

(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky smut #beefy bucky #james barnes #james buchanan barnes

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cosmicbucky · 7 months

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wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow.

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly.

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.”

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while.

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose.

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back.

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags.

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo?

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him.

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it.

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year.

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use.

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you.

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this.

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it.

He couldn’t.

It was his wallpaper, too.

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whoslibby · 5 months

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you were cleaning out johnnys bunk, the death still lingers strong within the force no one could bring it up, the elephant in the room. you were the only one to volunteer to clean out his stuff. you wanted to have some reminders of him, his passing still heavy.

there wasn’t much except a black shoebox with his belongings, you started looking through, two fat sketchbooks, a few rings and a few photos that had gotten dusty. you picked up the rings slipping the one on, a red velvety box. you opened up the kid with a pop a small yellow post it note.

‘finally got the balls to propose to her? don’t fuck it up johnny” a note to himself. to whom the lucky girl was you couldn’t tell; but if you found out who it was you’d save the box to give to her.

you looked through one of the sketch books sketches of all the force, random notes, drawings of various cool objects. you didn’t realise how good soap actually was. a few polaroids stuck into pages. one of him and ghost a few days before.. before he died. titled in soap’s signature scruffy handwriting ‘me and ghostie’

the other sketchbook very similar before finding a letter at the very bottom of the box. you opened it up.

‘dear the nosy git who looks through my stuff,’

the first sentence having you in a moment of silence, reading the sentence in his voice. making a tear well up in your eyes.

‘i’m most likely dead if your looking through my stuff so here’s my will.

- my sketchbooks go to gaz, only one of you that won’t ruin them.

- all my money goes to price in supporting the sas, I want it still running when i’m long gone.

- ghost gets all the photos, I know he’s a softie even if he didn’t admit it.

- y/n gets the ring, tell her i’ll always love her, even if I didn’t get to tell her.’

#first cod piece #jj talks #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #soap mctavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish

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katsukikitten · 15 days

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cum here

Warnings: spit, dub con

A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!

A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.

A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.

Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.

You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.

Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.

Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.

Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.

Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.

He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..

Cum here.

“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.

Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?

And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.

Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.

You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?

Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.

Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.

Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.

At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.

Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.

Toxic, crystalline bromine.

"Dynamight?”

“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.

Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.

“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”

Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.

“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.

He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.

“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.

Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.

You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.

Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.

“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”

It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.

Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.

“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.

“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.

Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.

Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.

He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.

You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.

If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.

Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.

Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.

Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.

Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.

Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.

The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.

And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.

“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.

Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.

Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.

“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.

Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.

Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.

Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.

“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.

“Now I gotta return the favor.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou thirst #bakugou birthday bash #bakugou smut #tw dub con

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t3ag3rs · 24 days

Text

♡ bakugou headcannons !

i felt like a hopeless romantic today so why not have some random headcannons?

i personally feel like bakugou wouldnt be looking for a relationship because of his ambition to wanna be a hero. so he kinda has that "itll come my way when its time" mentality with dating.

dont hate me but i think bakugou is the type of person to not "fall in love at first sight"

if he does find you interesting though, its because of the sole reasons of either your quirk or your personality. thats it- no other reason.

secretly probably has a thing for thick/curvy/muscular women, you cannot tell me otherwise.

once you two start talking more he'll secretly enjoy the way you yap when it comes to things you like or about something you genuinely cant stand.

i think bakugou wont be the one to make the first move unless like mina or someone tells him that you secretly have a fat crush on him as well.

on the other hand, if you were to confess to him he would try to act as nonchalant as possible but would be embarrassed, happy + his ego would definitely inflate.

once you both go public it is OVER for all the other "extras". bakugou would be showing you off left and right- "hey you see that hottie over there? guess what? shes mine- now look the other way!"

would be lowk scared that his brash personality would make you leave him for someone else, but you would always insist he was all you ever needed and thats all he needed to go back to the cocky bastard you know and love.

is a SUCKER for random compliments and physical touch. you hold his hand on the way out the class? instant butterflies. "your eyes are so pretty suki..!" fuck. he was whipped for you.

bakugou loves it when you massage his back or shoulders after a hard day of training. oh, and when you run your hands through his hair? hes on cloud nine.

loves cooking for you, but leaves the baking to you. he absolutely CANNOT bake for his life. would get too frustrated after having to do the same step multiple times because the recipe called for it and would just end up combining all the steps in one.

wont admit it but he loves when you use him as your walking heater. "bakugou im crampinggggg..." "here..." he says as he places his palm on your stomach as you sigh in content. he cant help but find it adorable when you force yourself on him if he doesnt do it himself.

last but not least... sleeping. hates being the small spoon because it makes him feel unimportant :( will sometimes stay up just to see your cheeks squished on to his chest as you sleep- dont be surprised to see photos of you like that on his phone.

slow mornings with bakugou is so sweet and soft. he would definitely press small kisses to your neck after each compliment he would say about you. only when youre asleep ofc. if you wake up and show even the slightest sign of knowing what he did, he would take a pillow and smack your face with it 100%. all with love though ofc. besides, its not like you didnt know about it for months now.

lol idek if this is good since its my first time but uhhhh lmk what yall think.

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satoruhour · 6 months

Note

i can’t stop thinking about riding satoru while he’s laying down his hands behind his head and watching us with a smug face ahhhhhhh i’m pulling my hair out

a/n: i immediately turn poetic whenever i write for gojo idk why guys 💀 + combining with another request where anon sent this in and said satoru core, so real! / tagging @shotorus @hannzai @arminsumi @jabamin @hyomagiri <3

warnings: dom!satoru, fem!reader, i lay the praise on thick here n i could be projecting but idk, pet names, humping, clit stimulation, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, brief consensual filming, n*sfw under the cut

you think that you’re not so bad on the stamina spectrum — you could hold your own against a special grade pretty easily even after getting beaten down in unexpected attacks, training with your students have kept you on your toes and alert despite your years, and satoru . .

oh, being with satoru has your stamina improving without even you knowing it. whether it’s pushing him away during tickle fights, smacking him hard on the back when he forgets about his students’ missions yet again, or letting yourself submit completely to him in the bedroom, it’s never just one round with gojo. the man was naturally fit and had his reversed cursed technique that he was basically invincible.

you? not so much, always struggling to catch up if your boyfriend wasn’t doing any of the work.

“s-satoru . . please, i need h-help,” you whine out, so so sensitive from the endless foreplay your lover had put you through for teasing him with raunchy photos. it wasn’t your fault he was gone for so long, sent to the rural parts of japan to exorcise a dormant curse — the signal was so terrible there that gojo couldn’t even text his pretty baby whom he missed so much, finally reaching his wits’ end and teleporting to a cell tower only to be met with your body stretched into suggestive poses with very little left to the imagination.

gojo swears he’s never seen beauty like yours before, like a breath of fresh air from the first time he’s got you in his arms to the photos he’s received on that cell tower. a mission has never been finished that quickly before; a teleport and one swipe of his hand, another teleport.

“you don’t want your lovely boyfriend to enjoy his time?” gojo pouts, hands spanning your ass and squeezing at the fat there. you moan at the sensation coupled with the drag of your clit along his thigh — his cock wasn’t even in you and you were already reduced to moans. “after you draped your body in baby blue and you already want to get to fucking?”

gojo has a little lilt in his voice that pisses you off because you know he wants to fuck you bad. you remember how riled up he was when he returned home three hours before, chest heaving and sweaty. you can feel the throb of his cock under you and the little noticeable shaky breaths, but making you beg, making you needy for him is his favourite pastime.

“f-fuck you, ’toru!” you stutter out, thighs burning from grinding so long into his leg that you don’t even know whether you’re cumming or not; all you know is the addicting feeling each time he tenses his thigh for you. satoru laughs, wandering hands leaving trails of fire along your skin as you gasp and grasp at his shoulders. he lets you, squeezing encouragingly at your waist and helping you just a little. a small smile spreads across his face when he feels your cunt twitch at his beautiful laugh, entrance clenching around nothing.

“soon. you’ll need to be patient,” gojo chastises, eyes flitting between watching your connected parts of smeared arousal and your expression of closed eyes and a pretty ‘o’ that catches the moonlight, “look at ’er, just so wettt . .” the sorcerer whistles at the mess you’re leaving on his leg, juices flowing so sinfully that it leaves a clear sheen of reflectiveness to it.

“c’mon baby, c’mon baby, you can cum for me, can’t you?” gojo taunts and you feel the need to answer him even when your own body is asking you to rest.

“mhmh, ’toru—” you hump his thigh harder, tugging his body closer as you settle for the most friction you can get against your puffy clit. because you’re leaking so much, the glide of your pussy is so smooth and sticky along his skin, chasing your high more and more until your words are choked out in a high-pitched moan — “satoru, satoru, s-shit . .!”

gojo coos at your unravelling, bumping his leg into your cunt repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm and by now he is hard that it hurts almost, but he’s focused on your pleasure. he licks his lips like a pervert when you tremble at the orgasm, carrying your leg over his just to see strings of your cum stick to your core and his skin, laying a light slap to your pussy just to hear the slickness.

“oi!” you call out, out of breath as you swat his hand away as he giggles and have to take a breather against your boyfriend’s chest, burying your face into his neck. but for as long as satoru have been teasing you, he hasn’t been getting any action and is desperate to just be in you, fishing his cock out from his underwear. it’s pretty as always, curved with an angry red tip that is aching to stretch you out and a vein that runs along the side of it; it slaps into your inner thigh as he pumps it with a low groan.

“can ya ride me, sweetness?” you let out a small sound of disagreement, littering kisses along his skin in hopes that he’d indulge you, but with his free hand, he’s tapping his tip against your welcoming cunt, emphasising the sheer amount of cum you were dripping with. below you, his toned chest vibrates with the moans at the warmth of your cunt, of your

“’m tired . .” you trail off, before a quiet gasp leaves you when satoru first pushes past your entrance. and though you’ve taken him so many times, his girth still surprises you to some extent, digging your forehead further into his collarbone as he pushes into your gummy walls. bit by bit, your boyfriend bottoms out in you but does anything but move and of course, it’s a ploy by the one and only. “you’re not going to fucking move, aren’t you?”

gojo makes a terrible ding! sound and snaps his fingers, prompting a glare out of you until the needy words come tumbling out of his mouth, “i want to see you ride me, baby, please.”

“weren’t you the one coming home like a sex-crazed mani— ah!” he knows he still holds control over you when he snaps his hips into you and you freeze up with a whine of his name, nails digging into the sheets and skin. “that’s cheating.” gojo simply hums, placing a kiss on your lips that you don’t reciprocate before the room falls into silence: he leans back, putting both hands behind his head before nodding at you — and because he knows it’s him, he carries the gesture with confidence with no break in his character of just how you were so goddamn tight and warm.

he grits his teeth before trying to relax, “d’you think my pretty girl can give me a show?”

obedient and defiant, you moan softly with a glower, “s-sure i can— lazyass.”

gojo knows you mean it with affection, letting out a small laugh before the moment is interrupted by the first lift of your hips. from where he is, he can see how your folds stretch for his thick cock and the lewdness of your expression, until you start a pace and the little pants that leave your lips hypnotise gojo into a trance. he watches your dazed features with a smug smile as you bounce on him, ass meeting his pelvis in loud slapping noises.

“satoru— s’full, s’big—!” mewling out, your hands switch from abs to chest to headboard, finding anything to anchor yourself to as you ride his cock that nudges all the right spots. each descent is bound to send you reeling, drool dripping from the side of your mouth with how you seem to get more and more intoxicated on his length — even when your muscles start to ache in similar places like earlier and gojo seems to break from the little humps from his hips.

“s’too much, h-hurts, ’toru . .” you whine with a pout to your voice, eyes lining with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, groping around desperately at the hand that indulges you briefly. it travels up your body, around your nape and back around, playing with your lips—

“you can do it, baby, ridin’ me so well . . s-shiiit,” gojo praises with a trembling rasp, toying with your bottom lip before grabbing your face and forcing you to look down, “you’re making me feel so, so good, sweetheart—” squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and then back again to compose himself, “—look at how well you take my cock.” the obscene words drags even more moans from you coupled with the sight of your pussy stuffed full of your boyfriend’s pretty dick, so filled to the brim with so much cum seeping from your cunt.

your wonderment is what prompts satoru to tug you forward into a sloppy kiss, leaning back even more as you yelp into his mouth and your beauty is just what sends gojo into a frenzy. the smugness is gone, the teasing nature is gone, just grasping at pockets of air to moan out together as gojo takes the reins and slams his hips into yours. the sheer force of it sends you jerking more into his embrace, sharing a loud, pornographic moan before a multitude of profanities fall from gojo’s mouth.

“you’re just too— fuuck! too perfect, princess,” satoru whimpers, arms wrapped tightly around your middle with pelvis thrusting up into you that if it wasn’t for gojo’s strong arms, your body would be flailing everywhere -— he nibbles at the skin near your shoulder, trying his best to see where the base of his cock meets your ass in noisy, wet pap! pap! pap!’s, “pussy moulded just ta fit my fat cock, yea?”

satoru’s skin heats up when he feels you nod, babbles of “yes”’s and his name jumbled up together in drunken incoherence as he continues to impale you on his shaft. your thighs start to squeeze around his, your own hips grinding down to meet his halfway as you feel your high approaching.

“a-ain’t ya a good girl, hm?” the praise just keeps coming, whispered into your ear with hot breath fanning it and sending you in a delirious state, but gojo’s rhythmic thrust slows down as he grinds his cock into you and you tense up at the feeling of his tip against your g-spot. you jaw falls open in a silent moan, body limping into his once he abuses tha spot repeatedly in deep, deep thrusts, punctuating it in between every word—

“good. fucking. girl,” your boyfriend sounds out into your ear, a grunt between hisses at the way you clench around him, the way your pussy seems to flutter, “you. thrust. like. thrust. that. thrust. huh? thrust.”

“y—yeah, like it, love it, satoru—” you’re too far gone with these deeper thrusts before he switches back and knows you’re about to cum the hardest with the way your toes curl and uncurl. just one sneaky hand to your clit is enough to send you into mantras of his name and confessions — “love it, love you, loveyou, loveyou, ’toru” — body jerking at the overstimulation.

“that’s it . .” gojo says shakily even after he continues to ram into you, “attagirl, thaat’s my good girl.” by now, you’re reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for your boyfriend who chases his own high, proven easy by the sensation of your tight walls and the slickness of your pussy, rutting like a dog before he shoots his semen deep into you. even gojo is speechless, hips jolting into your cum-filled pussy with the need to breed: seed nestled deep into you while his weeping tip spurts out the last bits of his cum.

but gojo doesn’t pull out just yet, flipping the two of you easily and grabbing his long forgotten phone by the nightstand. gently with a smile, he pats your cheek, wakening you from your orgasm-induced slip into unconsciousness.

“baby, gonna take a vid, you okay?” you mutter out a small yes, cute little whimpers escaping your mouth when gojo slowly pulls out. “wanna spread your pretty pussy for me?” your hands obey before you even know it once you hear the start of the camera, fingers soaked with your combined juices as you spread your folds and he watches, entranced at the way your cunt pushes out his cum — and the way it seeps out of you, good lord — alongside the cockdrunk smile on your face.

satoru points the phone at your cunt, and marvels with a grin, “looks like she’s begging for more of my cum, yeah?”

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moondirti · 13 days

Text

simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.

It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.

He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.

Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.

Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.

He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.

"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.

"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."

Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"

"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.

"Well, he must be soft in th'head."

She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."

"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."

"Hm?"

"His loss is my gain."

"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"

And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.

Instead–

"Could be."

"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"

"Tha' obvious?"

"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"

"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"

She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?

"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."

And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."

It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.

"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.

"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."

Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.

He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.

(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!

I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)

Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.

And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.

When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.

But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.

So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.

(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)

"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "

"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."

Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.

But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.

"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.

"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."

He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.

Just wanna be fucked.

Daft, silly girl.

She should've chosen anyone else.

It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.

"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."

And he means it.

It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.

Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.

Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.

The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.

"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.

"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.

(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)

His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.

"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."

Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.

What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.

"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.

"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."

"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.

"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."

Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.

#should've made this a proper fic #it's longer than i expected it to be #anyway.#simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x female reader #call of duty #fanfiction

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yandere-writer-momo · 22 days

Text

Yandere Short Stories:

Play Pretend

Yandere Past Stalker x Fem Reader

TW: unsettling themes, manipulation, stalking (mentioned), yandere behavior, and drugging

Sizzle. Snap. Pop.

The sounds of eggs frying on a pan filled (your name)’s ears while she sat at the mahogany kitchen table. No matter how many times her husband made her breakfast, she couldn’t quite get used to it… (your name) couldn’t help but feel as if there was something horribly amiss.

A little voice often cried in the corners of her mind that this beautiful man was not her husband. That he was an imposter. Yet she couldn’t understand the voice… this man had to be her husband!

Desiderio was there by her side the moment she opened her eyes when she woke up from her coma. She recalled how his large hands held hers while fat tears rolled down his cheeks. That man clung to her like a lifeline, his lips fervently pressed against the top of her head the moment her eyes fluttered open.

And here she was today! In their house that still felt foreign to her despite the two months that had rolled by… a foreign home with no tv nor a radio. A home full of books, plants, and even six photo albums of her. Yet there weren’t many pictures of the two of them together... Desiderio was an incredibly passionate man when it came to her. (Your name) had no doubt this man worshipped the ground she walked on.

(Your name) jumped when a neatly prepared plate was placed in front of her. Desiderio’s chocolate eyes scanned her face with a frown before he smiled brightly.

“Cara mia, you’re lost in thought again.” Desiderio took a seat beside her, large hand now wrapped around hers. His dark eyes filled with concern. “You’ll get a headache if you think too hard about everything… how about you try some eggs? I prepared them just the way you like them!”

(Your name) smiled at her husband who gently pushed the plate closer to her. “Aren’t you going to eat too, darling?”

The large man shivered at the nickname, a dark blush now on his cheeks. “Yes… but I worry more about you. You’re still so weak.”

Desiderio pressed a kiss on the top of her head before he made his way over to fetch himself a plate.

(Your name) raised a brow at the slightly unsavory taste of the eggs. How odd… had her husband used a new kind of seasoning?

(Your name) continued to much away, blissfully unaware of the twisted smile on Desidedio’s face. The brunette’s hands shook as he tried to keep his breathing calm.

Desiderio had loved this beautiful woman since university nearly a decade ago. He knew they were destined to be together from a single glance and Desiderio would have done anything to make sure that happened…

(Your name) was like a fairy tale princess who was kind to everyone, even someone like him. Desiderio was a loser back then. A nerd with little social skills and a scrawny body, he was half the man his brother was… all his life he was compared to his perfect brother. All because he wasn’t athletic.

Desiderio always yearned for (your name) and her affection. It wasn’t fair that his older brother was the one who swooped her up. His cold, neglectful brother who had the emotional capacity of a rock.

It wasn’t fair! Sirius knew Desiderio loved (your name)! Sirius had everything growing up. The family business, the looks, the love of their parents, the money, everything. So why did Sirius get the girl too?

What could (your name) possibly see in Sirius? Sirius was dull and uninteresting, he was only handsome and the heir to a multi-generational company. He had no other redeeming traits! Desiderio was far more romantic and he always left her loving notes in the locker! Was his heartfelt emotion not enough for (your name)?

Desiderio went into a deep depression when the love of his life married Sirius. He threw himself into medical school and painstakingly climbed up the ladder until he made it to the position of medical director. Desiderio worked out until sweat would puddle at his feet, he grew out his black hair, and he became a beloved member of society to try to forget (your name).

It was pure luck (your name) had gotten hit by that car and ended up in a coma at his hospital. It was destiny that her workaholic husband ignored the frantic calls of the nurses and that he only left his last name down as her emergency contact. It was simply too easy to slip his fingers into the sweet honey pot he had always wanted…

And it was even better that she had amnesia. Now Desiderio could mold her in the way that was always intended… as his wife. There would never be a day where she’d feel unloved or neglected. She’d be pampered and endlessly doted on like the princess she was!

(Your name) let out a cute yawn as she stretched her arms above her head. The sweet sight snapped Desiderio from his musings. Goodness she was so precious… and she was all his.

Desiderio slithered forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders with a smirk.

“Cara mia, it seems you’re still sleepy. How about I carry you back to bed?” Desiderio pressed a tender kiss to her temple. The softest of smiles on his plump lips. “We can lay on each other’s arms for a while longer.”

“You’re always so sweet…” (your name) nuzzled her head into Desiderio’s shoulder as the man gave her a bright smile. “I don’t know where I’d be without my darling husband.”

“You’d just be cold and lonely.” Desiderio would play pretend until the very end.

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hobies-gf · 10 months

Text

-nsfw

ugh just imagine

show-off hobie! who just loves to show you off whenever he can, so when he sees you in that cute little bunny lingerie set he got you, he coaxes you into a little photoshoot so he can post pretty pictures of you.

show-off hobie! who has you in his lap and his hand on your ass when he snaps the selfie. The angle of the photo shows the little bunny tail you have at the back of your underwear and it drives him crazy how innocent you look in his lap while he looks like a smug asshole.

show-off hobie! who takes a million photos of you in every pose possible. on the coffee table, on the ground on your pretty little knees with your cute lips wrapped around his cock, everything!

show-off hobie! who eventually takes you into his room because better props and he has this standing mirror right across his bed, so he forces you on his lap right in front of the mirror, and the picture comes out perfectly. You’re there sitting all pretty and small on his lap, body (mostly your ass) all for show.

show-off hobie! who has you kneeling in front of the mirror, tongue lolled out while his one hand draws circles over your clit. He won’t miss a good opportunity for a sweet picture though.

show-off hobie! who after some time makes you touch yourself since you’re so desperate while his hand is wrapped around your throat. Another beautiful picture.

show-off hobie! who has you begging for his cock and how could he resist his cute little pet?

show-off hobie! who sets up your phone for a video while he keeps onto his phone.

show-off hobie! who’s fucking into you so deep and rough that you have mascara running down your cheeks so prettily that he can’t help but take more pictures of you.

show-off hobie! who you makes you cum in that position before he flips you on your hands and knees and demands you to fuck yourself on him, his camera app already prepared.

show-off hobie! who feels like he finally took enough pictures (and videos) that he tosses his phone aside, hands gripping your hips to pull you back on his fat cock eagerly.

show-off hobie! who leans over your arched back, pulling your head back by your hair while he mutters all these dirty things in your ear that brings you closer to the edge.

show-off hobie! who finally lets you rest after 3 more orgasms because you’re shaking too much.

but caring hobie! who strips you of the lingerie and wipes you down nicely before dressing you in comfortable panties and his softest band tee.

caring hobie! who’s cuddling you now with his laptop on his nightstand so you can watch your little youtube videos and snack a little.

caring hobie! who helps you fall asleep into a quick nap, caressing your hair and waist.

but pervert hobie! who’s snatching his phone immediately from the edge of the bed to swipe through all the pictures and videos, a tent already forming in his boxers.

pervert hobie! who’s a little too excited for you to wake so you can decide what he can post for all of his friends to see.

#hobie x reader #hobie smut #hobie brown smut #hobie brown

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moonlightsolo · 5 months

Note

Imagine going to the bioluminescent forest to research plants and neteyam is bathing there but you haven’t met and you try to sneak away before he sees you watching him🫣🫠

wow i finally finished this after literally months & it was definitely worth the wait ;)

very descriptive smut 18+ minors dni pls!!!! & thx to @cinetrix for fueling my delusions w these photos <3

the forest of pandora; one of the many treasures of the extrasolar moon.

coming from earth, where the greenery has been absorbed by concrete jungles, this new planet is fascinating to you.

pandora’s lush paradise is filled with rich varying colors, and trees that tower into the atmosphere. being a xenobiologist in this environment, is like hitting the jackpot.

the bizarre flora can keep you occupied for hours, every time you step foot outside you always find something new to observe.

but when you stumble upon a na’vi you haven’t seen before- and somehow looks vaguely familiar… you can’t help but gawk at him as he washes himself in a steaming lagoon.

being surrounded by na’vi is intimidating. especially when they’re tall, and lean, and everything that your human form is not. you work alongside the omatikaya clan, thankful that you were too young to travel in cryo after the war.

but as you continue to stare from the tree line, you observe the adornments in the man’s hair, and the neckpiece that confirms he belongs to the clan you work alongside.

how have you never seen this na’vi before? you know everyone! from the olo’eyktan, to the tsahìk. you crouch down in your spot in the shadows of the trees, watching how he softly scrubs his body and creates white suds over his blue skin.

you admire him from afar, taking note of the valleys of his defined muscles and how they protrude magnificently from having a low percentage of body fat, if any.

although you appreciate the plants, the best part of the planet is ingenious species of the world— the na’vi.

their skin is a muted cyan, and adorned with stripes that are not all uniform. they’re also tall, much taller than an above average human male- and their bones are reinforced with a naturally occurring carbon fiber, making their muscles sharp and chiseled…

…and this one is absolutely breathtaking. his nose is perfectly slanted, and his ears are pointed yet soft at the same time. his eyes are round and golden like the star that shines in the sky.

god, is he fucking tall, like a tree. you feel like if you would stand next to him, you would only reach his goddamn elbow! oh man, you’d like to climb him.

you shake away your dirty thoughts, almost laughing at yourself for thinking so irrationally. you’re crouched here, stalking a na’vi as he bathes— what a creep.

you stand up fully to turn around and walk the opposite way, but your foot crunches loudly on a thick twig. it’s almost like a chain reaction as a nearby animal in the bush darts out in attempt to escape from your human self.

instinctively, you let out a screech as you stumble backwards to run away from the scared little thing. your heels catch the fallen log, the one you were previously hiding behind, and your knees buckle which sends you hurtling over the wood.

you tumble backwards past the treeline, and into the open field. you land on your butt with your back facing the lagoon. your heart is pounding out of your chest, whether it’s from the animal startling you, or the embarrassment of the na’vi now knowing you were in the trees near him.

you take a deep breath to calm your nerves, one of your hands rest on your chest as you attempt to control your breathing. oh god, you’re such a weirdo. he has to know you were watching him. maybe you can play it off as you simply tripping and falling.

before you could seek out where the na’vi is, a large heavy hand lays on your shoulders from behind. the feeling startles you, and makes your entire body jolt to spin around on your butt and face the intruder.

“oh god… hi.” you puff out breathlessly, and your eyes look over his damp body and the pearly-white smile on his face.

“you okay?” his accented voice speaks in english.

your face obviously looks taken aback, which makes him take a step away from you and his hand falls back to his side. “i’m okay, yeah… yeah, wait — you speak english?” your eyes peer up at him curiously as you stand to your feet, and he can’t help but smile at the inquisitive look on your human face.

“i do.. i grew up speaking it alongside my family, i’d rather speak my peoples language, but you’re not one of them.” his deep voice hums, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze flits over your body.

you’ll say it is a warm day today on pandora, so you’re not completely covered up; you’re wearing a thin tank top that you ripped into a crop, and some tiny khaki shorts that sit high on your waist and short on your thighs.

you can feel your cheeks heat up from him evidently checking you out, which makes your arms cross over your chest to shield your body.

his eyes slightly widen when you unintentionally press your breasts closer to each other. the man swallows and lifts his eyes to your face behind your mask, now knowing that you caught him in the act.

“i’m neteyam.” he extends one of his very large hands, which you gladly take. his hand is warm and heavy in yours, practically engulfing your own hand in his palm.

you smile at his introduction, then your face screws up in confusion. your brain wracks through every memory of where you could have heard that name before. then it clicks, and suddenly your eyes widen in realization, “neteyam sully?” you blurt out, still unknowingly shaking his hand like a mad man.

“uh… yes. that’s me?” he chuckles awkwardly, and looks at your hands still moving between your bodies.

neteyam sully— the olo’eyktan’s son, the stealthy warrior of the sky. the one who rarely makes an appearance in the clan because of his strenous mission to seek out the RDA.

“i know your dad, and your entire family. i work with the omatikaya!!” your eyes dart down to your shaking hands before pulling away in embarrassment.

“oh. you’re the girl? the one norm and max brought in..” he hums, almost like a purr, and his arms cross over his toned chest.

the girl? so he’s heard about you.

“i guess that’s me…?” you let out a nervous laugh, “i’m y/n by the way. it’s nice to finally meet you, i’ve heard a lot about you.” you can’t help but beam at him.

it’s almost as if he is a legend to the omatikaya because seeing him is such a rare occurrence. after his family had returned from the island clan, neteyam went into hiding to track down the RDA, to avenge his people that were lost in the war.

your eyes trail down his body, unable to help yourself; sometimes you can’t get over how beautiful the na’vi are.

neteyam places his hands on his hips as he watches your eyes rake over the expanse of his body, “like what ya see?” he arrogantly asks with a smirk.

you take a step back once you hear his words, “no- no… i—.” you raise your hands in surrender as your cheeks burn with a blush.

“i’m sorry. i was just… admiring, i guess.. i study the entirety pandora so it’s always fascinating to see something new.” your voice is slightly muffled from your mask, and your hushed tone.

slender fingers wrap around your wrists to gently tug your hands away from the surface of the mask, “don’t worry, i’m just messing around.”

when neteyam comes into view, his face is much closer to you from him being slightly bent down. you can see every detail, every subtle knick in his skin from previous injuries, and the slight pink tint to the tip of his nose and his cheeks.

god, he is one beautiful na’vi.

he stands up straight and clears his throat, “go ahead. examine whatever you want. i’ll be your test subject.. doctor.” he sarcastically nods toward you from the nickname, and places his hands on his hips.

the nickname makes a shiver run down your spine—you’re definitely no doctor, but you’ll take it.

you gulp as you allow yourself to peer over his body, letting your eyes run over his muscles and the stripes that adorn his skin. the sun hides behind clouds in the sky, casting a dark shadow over the two of you.

his bioluminescent freckles sparkle in the shadows, and you can’t help but reach out and touch them. his body shudders under your soft touch as your fingertips gracefully run over the spots that adorn his chest. following the trails that lead farther down his abdomen.

neteyam seems to have been sculpted by eywa herself.

“may i say… you are quite beautiful.” his deep voice blurts in the tension-filled air, causing your lungs to constrict from the compliment.

you stare up at him through your eyelashes, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “so are you.” you reply with a small smile.

he lets out a little breathy, ‘hmph’ from your reply, as if he was amused by it. he bows his head toward you in an act of silently thanking you.

one of his hands rise to play with the wild hair sticking out beside your ears. then he lets his fingers trail down the border of your mask and down your neck; the feather-light touches make your skin crawl.

the look in his eyes darken as he stares down at you, which makes your stomach fill with butterflies. how does someone you just met have such an effect on you?

“i know you were watching me earlier.” his sultry voice purrs out, as his thumb works to rub soft circles into your throat.

your eyes blow wide, and your mouth slightly falls open from his confession, “i–i.. what?” you breathe out as heat fills your entire body, and humiliation burns at your skin.

“it’s okay. do not worry…” he chuckles from your obvious panic and swipes his thumb under your chin to tilt your face up, “i enjoy having your eyes on me.” his deep voice rumbles quietly, but still loud enough to make your skin crawl with goosebumps.

you can feel the heat pool in between your legs from his soft touches. his eyes peer into yours, and you watch how his pink tongue darts out to lick his lips as he stares at you.

you feel shame sit heavy in your chest from how aroused you are. you shouldn’t be doing this and he shouldn’t be encouraging it; he’s na’vi and the son of your boss, and you’re human. there’s absolutely no way this would be possible.

neteyam can tell your mind is overworking itself as your eyes flicker over his face. he takes the opportunity to swoop down and press his lips to your ear, making you gasp in surprise.

no fucking way he’s this close to you right now.

he pulls back, but just enough so his lips were ghosting over the glass, fogging it up and wishing you could kiss him.

the striking yellow of his irises makes your lower stomach clench, and the firm feeling of his hands running down your body makes you bite back a moan.

“tell me to stop… and i will.” he breathes out with a hint of a smirk crawling on his perfect lips.

“we–we shouldn’t…” your voice is breathless, and you can feel your body trembling; whether it’s from nervousness or the anticipation of what is about to happen.

there’s an inexplicable chemistry that cannot be ignored between the two of you.

“you’re right, we shouldn’t…” he takes a step back, tearing himself away from you; which makes you suck in a sharp desperate breath. you don’t want him to stop, “but wouldn’t it be fun?” he swoops back and grabs your hips harshly to pull you into his body.

neteyam can only be honest with himself. being a warrior is tough, especially being away from his family. but one of the worst parts is that he doesn’t have a woman to feed his hunger, to release his pent up frustration— the only thing he is left with is his own hands.

so when a beautiful human girl stumbles onto his path, he can’t help but allow lust to cloud his vision.

a whimper escapes your throat when his hot body presses into you, and the feeling of his bulge sitting on your stomach makes your knees want to buckle. “is that a yes?” he hisses out under his breath.

you fervently nod in agreement, “please. i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” you whine out, almost turning into putty in his strong hold.

neteyam’s tail whips behind him at the sound of that and a cocky sneer forms on his face. he finally closes the gap between your bodies as his hands grip your upper thighs, lifting your body up to his level.

your arms swing themselves around his neck, and your thighs tightly squeeze his waist as he holds you in the air.

he attaches lips to the junction of skin that connects your neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking on your warm body- sending shivers to wrack down your spine. his entire presence is intoxicating to you, and you crave even more from him.

the na’vi stumbles forward to a nearby tree to press your back against it, now your hips are almost flush. only separated by his loin cloth, and your thin shorts. you can feel the weaved fabric of his cloth press against your center, which makes a soft whine spill from your lips.

neteyam smiles against your neck, pulling back to look over your face for a moment. the look in his eyes makes you want to drop to your knees right at this moment, but he’s quick to lean down and continue his attack against your neck.

his sharp teeth carefully nip at your skin and his lips suck little love bites, causing lovely red spots that’ll inevitably show up darker later. the feeling causes an explosion of flutters to erupt across your nerve-endings.

his hands hold your body in place against the tree as he lowers himself, kissing down your collarbones and making his way to your breasts, “take it off.” he breathes out, almost like a desperate hiss.

his eyes dart from your face to your tank top, licking his lips in anticipation. you quickly oblige, pulling your hands from his braids to swiftly tug the flimsy fabric over your head.

you toss it somewhere beneath you to the mossy ground, now left completely shirtless. you silently thank yourself for not wearing a bra today.

neteyam’s tail waves entrancingly behind him as he looks over your naked chest, “mmm, sevin..” he purrs in his native tongue, which almost made you climax at the sound of it.

you recognize that word as ‘pretty’… he called you pretty. the compliment obviously makes your cheeks flush, and he takes notice to it and a smile grows on his handsome face.

he grins at your shyness, and leans forward to look into your eyes. “you are.” his voice rumbles, as one of his hands snakes up to rest on your naked chest.

the feeling of his large hand on your body makes you bite your bottom lip, his hand covers your entire breast and his fingers reach to your collarbone. he takes his time with you as he leaves wet kisses all over your chest until he reaches the other unoccupied one.

he kisses along your nipple, playfully licking at it like a cat before making his way farther down your body. the hand on your breast keeps your body in place as he lowers himself. his teeth nip as the waist band of your shorts, expertly undoing the button with his mouth.

the heat of his mouth unfortunately leaves your body, which makes you wriggle in his grip. “be patient, little one.” he chuckles, and uses one arm to hold your entire body up while the other busies itself tugging your shorts off of your legs. thankfully, he doesn’t ruin them for future use, since human clothes are a rare thing to come across on pandora.

he frowns when he sees your underwear, “so many layers… why?” he grumbles.

a giggle tumbles past your lips, but you snap your mouth shut to stop yourself, “why are you laughing?” he stares up at you from between your legs. the sight of him so close to where you need him makes you salivate.

“m’sorry. it’s just funny.” you stifle more laughter from sputtering out, as a mischievous smile tugs up onto his face. “your kind is funny. na’vi only have our tweng, and that’s it. none of whatever this is..” he huffs as he expertly moves your legs onto his shoulders, now face to face with your center.

one of his fingers hooks into the elastic of your panties, and lets it snap back against your skin. the feeling makes you jolt in his arms as the burn soothes itself.

neteyam places lazy kisses along your inner thigh, smiling as he feels you shudder in his hands, “sensitive.” his hot breath puffs against the damp fabric of your underwear.

you whine in his arms, instinctively bucking your hips forward. he tsks and his ears flatten against the side of his head, “patience, love. patience.” his voice soothes you as he unsheathes his blade from his hip.

“wait! what are you doing?” you attempt to wriggle out of his grip, but he is relentless and too strong- which in all honesty turns you on even more.

“shhh.” he hushes you as one of his fingers stretch the fabric of your cotton panties away from your hip, and he brings the knife up to cleanly slice it in two places.

the thin fabric falls to the ground and your mouth is hanging open in shock. somehow, you can’t even be mad at him for ruining your underwear from how fucking hot that was.

“this okay?” he breathes out teasingly over your core, and all you can do is nod. you’re about to get eaten out by a na’vi, for the matter of fact the olo’eyktan’s eldest son. you wish he could pinch you right now because this seems like a dream.

once neteyam receives your consent, he dives forward. his long tongue explores your folds, making the back of your head slam against the trunk of the tree as you cry out to the sky.

your hands instantly find solace in his braids, as the heat of his mouth finds every possible pleasure-filled spot.

“oh god…!” you let out a loud moan, and your fists grip his braids harsher. your movements cause a hoarse moan to vibrate from his mouth, up into you.

which earns neteyam another loud cry to spill from your swollen lips; it’s like music to his ears. he digs his face farther into your mound, wiggling his face back and forth to coax more of those delightful sounds out of you.

your chest puffs crazily and your back arches off of the rough surface of the tree bark, “yes, oh my god.. fuck- i’m gonna- don’t stop!” you ramble out, as your hips involuntarily buck against his face.

neteyam chuckles as your eagerness, smiling against you as he pulls away to allow you to calm down. the scene between your legs makes you feel as if you could come untouched. no way this man is edging you right now.

he is smiling all giddy, his pearly whites on show with your slick glistening around his mouth. it’s something of your deepest darkest fantasies, you wish you could take a picture so you could never forget it.

your chest heaves as your body attempts to soothe your built up high that was sinfully stolen from you, “what is this god you talk about?” he questions as he pulls you away from the tree, and slides your body down his so your legs are around his waist again.

“someone we humans admire. like eywa to the na’vi.” you sigh out and lean back against the tree.

a sudden surge of confidence floods your body, allowing your nervousness to wash away. knowing that neteyam is strong enough to hold you up, so you allow yourself to unhook your hands from around his neck.

“like eywa?” he questions with a hum, his round eyes intently watch your every move.

your hands run down his neck, to his chest and over his muscles and scars. “yes, like eywa, and i prefer eywa as well.” your breathing shudders as you lean forward rest your mask against his chest.

you can’t help but notice the tiny smirk on his lips from your comment.

your fingers reach up to your face, sliding your finger under the seal to pull it away from your face. his eyes go wide as he stutters over his words, and his hands fly up to press it back against your face.

“what are you doing? you will die, we’re too far to get help.”

your glossy eyes look up at him through your eyelashes, “trust me. i won’t die. please let me take it off.” you whimper desperately, chewing on your bottom lip.

the begging look you give him makes his stomach do somersaults, unable to stop you from doing whatever you want. with those eyes and that look, you have him wrapped around your finger.

his grip leaves the sides of the mask, and a sneaky smile beams on your face. he surrenders to you, and rests his hands against your sides as he watches the mask fall from your face to hang around your neck.

finally, your beauty is exposed from behind the hazy glass. he’s able to see your face fully, drinking in every beauty mark and the twinkle in your eyes.

while holding your breath, you lean forward to press a kiss against his neck. you allow your tongue to dart out, to lick at his clean skin, to feel his heartbeat pumping against your lips. neteyam lets out an obscene groan, one that rumbles deep in his chest and vibrates against your body.

speaking of your body, it feels as if it’s aching for him, like he put a spell on your mind to obsess over him- as if he’s taken over your nervous system like an addictive drug.

you can feel your lungs starting to scream for oxygen, burning in your chest. with one last moment, you push yourself farther by tugging his face down to yours.

his lips are finally on yours. kissing you with passion and fervor, knowing this will be your first and last kiss unless he sees you again after this affair.

his tongue urgently slips past yours and into your mouth, sucking you in like a vice. he breathes you in as he presses his entire front into your body, pinning you against the tree.

you instinctively suck in a breath of pandora’s air, hoping you would receive the blissful feeling of fresh air in your lungs, but instead it feels as if you’ve inhaled hot embers.

neteyam swiftly shoves the mask back over your face, allowing you to take a deep breath of the oxygen that you desperately needed. the color flooding back into your face as you take deep, slow breaths.

“please…” you breathlessly beg. your voice is more whiny than you intended it to be, but you could care less. his hands busy themselves by pulling the elastic back around your head to situate the mask. his eyes full of worry, but he realizes that your mind is not thinking about how you almost just suffocated.

your head falls back against the tree behind you as your back arches, and your hips buck against him. your body is instinctively trying to seek out the pleasure that he once stole away from you.

“please what, little one?” neteyam’s large hands slide down your soft sides until he reaches your ass. his fingertips dig into the pillowy flesh, kneading it slowly as if he was cherishing the feeling of your skin.

“you are soft. much softer than my people.” his compliment comes out like a growl.

“please, i want to feel you. i need to feel all of you.” your voice whispers out, too embarrassed to really tell him exactly what you want. his golden eyes peer down at you intimidatingly, making you turn your eyes away from him.

“feel me where?” neteyam ducks down to your height, letting his breath ghost over your ear. “tell me.” he demands.

“i—i want you…” your voice trails off as your face burns up in humiliation. “speak with your words. tell me what you want.” his voice raises a little higher than a whisper now. he’s so close to your face, you can feel it.

a little whimper escapes your throat from his demanding tone. you hesitantly turn your face back toward him to stare up into his eyes, “i want you inside of me, neteyam.”

his fingertips dig harder into your ass as he looks over your face for any apprehension. truly, he doesn’t even think he could fit himself in your human body.

“i told you that you could do anything you want to me.” you breathily shudder out, “and i want you to do that to me.”

neteyam doesn’t say anything for a moment, which strikes you with a moment of worry before he pulls you both away from the tree. he walks away from the treeline into the field, to rest your body beside the lagoon in a bed of moss as he kisses at your neck.

the soft feeling of the ground against your naked back makes you shudder from it gently tickling your skin.

as you settle into the warmth of the earth, neteyam settles between your legs. his mouth pulls away from your neck to travel down your jaw, over to your ear.

his hands are busy to spread your thighs around his hips as he suckles at the sensitive spot below your ear. the feeling makes your breathing pattern stutter, and your nails to dig into his back.

“please.” you beg again, “need you.”

one of the hands on the back of your knee rubs down the back of your leg until he meets your inner thigh, “i need to warm you up.”

your eyes dart over his face, “but you already did.” you murmur, eyes blinking up at him dumbly.

neteyam doesn’t listen to you but instead runs a finger through your wet folds, causing you to shut your mouth.

“no warning?” you let out a little laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan when one of his slender fingers slides inside of you.

“oh my…” you moan out, and instinctively reach up to grip at his shoulder. his finger expertly curls up inside of you to press against that spot. and then another finger is added which practically makes your eyes bulge out of your head, “fuck- that feels so good, neteyam.”

“so warm… so tiny.” he grumbles as if he’s talking to himself.

his two fingers feel like a regular human dick, how would you ever be able to take his actual one?

instead of focusing on a pace, he takes his time to massage your walls to open you up. somehow, it feels better than anything you’ve ever felt. he’s pressing against spots you’ve never even discovered. you could even say its a little painful, but it feels too good to protest against.

you cry out, and your hips buck up when he hits a sensitive spot which sends his fingers deeper inside of you. “please. i need you now. i don’t care. please!” you sob out.

neteyam’s eyes are level with your breasts before he sits up on his knees, his fingers pulling out of you to leave you laying there empty.

he intensely watches your tiny body twitch beneath him as he strips himself of his loincloth. he pulls the intricate knots apart and throws the leather cloth to the side.

his cock springs up onto his stomach, finally free from the tight restraints of his tweng.

holy fuck. he’s huge.

and now you understand why he said he needed to warm you up for the second time. your scientist brain takes over as you look over his cock, biting your lip in curiosity. it’s so pretty, which isn’t surprising to you at all.

it’s beautifully blue and has the same stripes as the rest of his body, and the darkening sky makes his white freckles shine as they adorn the veins. his tip is swollen and pink, leaking luminescent pre-cum. you want to take samples, but that would ruin the mood entirely.

you sit up in front of him, licking your lips as you stare up at him. almost silently begging him, “can i touch you?”

“don’t have to ask for that, pretty.” he leans back on his heels, wiggling his hips as he gets comfortable. as you crawl forward, one of his hands reach from his hip to cup your jaw to lead you forward.

your hand reaches down to wrap your tiny hand around his girth, your thumb toying with the almost holographic liquid dribbling from him.

your eyes stay trained to how it trembles under your touch, and how the protruding veins feel under your palm.

you wish you didn’t have this goddamn mask on your face so you could taste him. “wish i could taste you..” you sheepishly admit into the heated air, earning you a guttural groan from neteyam.

which just gives you more motivation to hear more of those heavenly sounds. you tighten your grip around his length, adding your other hand to fist his cock. another melodic sounds escapes his swollen lips, as he watches your hands grip him.

the large blue hand on jaw trails up the side of your face into your hair, carding through the soft wefts and slightly tugging on the roots.

his head falls back when your thumb swirls over his slit, and his hips unintentionally move upwards causing you almost fall backward.

seeing you with your slightly steamed up mask, and an evil grin plastered on your face makes him even more turned on (if that was possible).

neteyam tugs you by your hair up to his face, “no more of that. c’mere.” his voice puffs against your lips as he pats his muscular thighs. which you comply to quickly by scrambling onto him, essentially like climbing a tree.

his hands find their way home to your ass, digging his fingertips into the flesh as he holds you up. you let out a little squeal when your feet leave the ground, and your arms wrap around his neck.

the man chuckles deeply in his chest, and his sight flickers over your face to admire you for a moment. “beautiful.” he breathes out, and leans forward to press his nose into the center of your neck.

neteyam breathes in your scent, letting his tongue swipe up the center to gather it in his mouth. you can feel your body trembling from the longing of wanting to feel him inside of you.

every little movement, or touch he gives you makes you feel as if you’re a ticking time bomb ready to explode. as he kisses at your neck, he keeps you distracted while one of his hands rubs up and down the back of your thigh.

even in the humid night of the forest, goosebumps rise on your skin from the soft touches. with his free hand, he positions his cock under you slowly letting some slack go from holding you up.

his tip prods at your entrance slightly, making your entire body jolt upwards from the surprise of the feeling. “sorry, i-..”

“shhh. let me take care of you.” he hushes against your skin, his breath feels cold from the wetness he left behind. he rests his forehead on the center of your chest between your collarbones, his eyes training on the spot between your legs where your bodies begin to meet.

the stretching feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is almost unbearable, and you instinctively dig your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

the feeling of your tightness around him is almost painful for him too, you’re just so small.

a pained whimper tumbles past your lips as you dig your head into the side of his neck, panting against his blue skin. the grip on your ass tightens as he stops your body from lowering more.

you can’t help but glance down between your bodies past his head to see you’ve taken about half of him inside of you.

“doing so good, little one. you want more?” his eyes look up at you, his pupils blown wide.

“yes.” you hiss out, honestly not even knowing why you agreed to that when you’re still adjusting to the length of half of him.

neteyam greedily let’s you sink farther onto his cock, relishing in the feeling of your fluttering walls sucking him in farther.

your head falls back as you cry out, feeling slight tears spring into your waterline from him splitting you open.

“lemme hear you.” he groans out against your warm skin, his rough tongue licks at your skin and sucks red marks into your jawline.

“o-ooh ffff-fuck.” you stutter out, eyes rolling back in your head as you take it all in. your ass sits flush against his thighs, your own legs wrapped around his hips.

it takes every amount of neteyam’s inner strength to not fuck up into you like you’re his own personal toy; to completely destroy you from his unrelenting pace.

but his heart tugs at even the slightest thought of hurting your tiny body. knowing his larger size has the power to do so.

he lets you adjust to his length and girth, his own muscles quivering from the feeling of your wetness contracting around him. sweat starts to form at his temples, his eyes blown dark with lust.

you experimentally shift your hips to test the waters, pain strikes up your spine but it’s not as bad as it was before.

neteyam’s unintentionally jolts his hips upward into you, making your eyes blow wide and your arms scramble to wrap back around his neck. “sorry, sorry..” he rushes to apologize.

you know that you sitting on his cock is slowly eating away at his brain, so you finally take a deep breath. “you can move…”

neteyam let’s out air he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that he can finally fuck you like he’s been aching to do.

both of his feet plant into the ground as he wiggles his hips upward into you. he pulls his hips back before snapping them up so his cock pushes back into you, “fuck!” you cry out, gasping as he continues the same movement.

neteyam works up to a steady pace, groaning as your body bounces on his lap from his sharp thrusts.

the pain finally starts to subside, and turns into pure ecstasy. “just like that, neteyam.” you push away from his chest, resting your hands on his chest as his hands grip your hips like a vice. there’s definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow.

your body is pushed past it’s limit as his cock drills into your small body. the sound of slapping skin filling the environment around you, alongside your pornagraphic sounds leaving your mouth.

neteyam watches how your hair flies with every thrust of his hips, how your skin slightly jiggles from the force, how your breasts bounce deliciously in front of his face. he is in awe; he couldn’t find any na’vi that is this soft and pliable.

in a swift turn of events, neteyam flips himself over and lays you down on the plush ground. you whine from the emptiness of him leaving you, which is cut off by a gasp as he quickly pushes back inside of your warmth.

his pace quickly finds its rhythm again, as one of his hands pushes on the back of your thigh so your knee meets your collarbone.

the new position makes you feel even fuller than before, and this give neteyam full range to bottom out inside of you. out of pure blinded pleasure, your hands reach out to grip his sides- digging your nails into his flesh as your body jolts whenever his hips meet yours.

“m’gonna come.” he groans out deeply, his voice raspy and yet so smooth. neteyam feels embarrassed from being so close already, but he hasn’t felt anything this good in months, maybe a year. he’s been stuck with his own fist, and ultimately gave up on it a few weeks ago.

his frustration was at its peak, and ready to release.

“come for me, ‘teyam. inside.” you manage to blurt out in your cock-drunken haziness.

that was it for him. he continues pushing his cock info you as his body shudders and he moans. it’s like music to your ears.

your eyes flutter open to watch his beautiful face screw up in pleasure, the pleasure that you’ve given him. but your eyes widen when you realize, his freckles are pulsing subtly as he finishes inside of you.

oh my god, he is magnificent.

that sends you over the edge, and you tighten around him like a vice which makes him hiss. you cry out as your back arches off the ground, and your hands grasp at any muscle in his back you could find.

neteyam takes the opportunity to slither an arm under your back as he lazily fucks up into you. your hips twitch wildly, and your thighs tremble as you wrap them around his hips.

your heart pounds out of your chest as you attempt to catch your breath, the ringing in your ears subsides and all you hear is your loud breathing inside of your mask.

“you are amazing, oeyä yawntutsyìp.” he breathily speaks his native language to you, which makes you grin.

“your darling, hm?” you puff out with a tired smile on your face.

“wish i could kiss you right now.” he hums, and experimentally wiggles his hips which makes you squeal. “don’t do that!” you cackle.

neteyam chuckles, and slowly pulls out of you and leans to rest beside you on his side. he watches your face screw up in pain and he frowns.

“was i too rough with you?” he genuinely asks and his hand moves to rest on your belly. you instantly shake your head no.

“no, it was perfect. amazing, even. i’m just sore- i haven’t… ya know, had sex in a while.” you admit with a flush to your cheeks.

“i’m embarrassed to admit that was the same for me.” neteyam shyly chuckles, before something flashes in his eyes.

he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the middle of your chest, “i must thank you. i’m glad you fell over that tree.” he playfully adds.

“i am too.” you agree as one of your hands come up to card through his braids.

“should i get you back to the village? they must be worried about you, it is dark.” his bright yellow eyes glance around the forest.

you finally realize that it really is pitch black, other than the bioluminescent foliage, and both of you are naked and exposed to the environment.

“i should, yeah. but i don’t want you to leave.” you mumble sheepishly, which makes the man grin arrogantly.

“maybe i’ll stick around for a while, yeah? see my family, my clan… and spend some more time with you.” his hand rubs patterns into your belly as it erupts with butterflies.

“that sounds like an amazing plan.” your face cannot contain the bright smile on your face.

“now, let’s get you dressed and i’ll call my ikran to take us home.” his hand pats the side of your thigh and stands up tall to find his loincloth.

man, what are the boys back at the lab going to say about you arriving back with the one and only neteyam sully?

#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar twow #neteyam x reader #avatar #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x y/n #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #jake sully #atwow #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam headcanons #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut

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pupcuck · 7 months

Text

PUPPY LOVE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x f!reader

tags. puppy hybrids, knotting, chris is the owner but he’s like not fucking, virginity loss, vendetta leon, age gap, lots of spit

notes. i write gn reader usually but this is super sickeningly self indulgent so it’s fem reader ughdhfh im so sorry this is crossposted on my ao3 :3 NOT BETA READ If u see a typo no you didn’t!!! I am so humiliated by this fic um this only makes sense with vendetta Leon so keep him in mind

“C’mon, buddy, ain’t it a cutie?” You’re being held up, some scary man's hands under your armpits, legs dangling in the air as he shows you off to an older dog.

It. How rude. You’re a lady for god's sake. An ill-tempered little lady in fact. This is growing tedious, so you let out a noise of warning, and clamp down on his forearm with your canines. They’re just in. Fresh and white. Had taken a while, you were a bit of a late bloomer, but they're here now, and that’s all that matters.

“Shit,” the man clicks his tongue, “you got some spunk, huh, pup?” He places you down on the ground, and you sink to your knees with a soft huff. “What’d you think, Leon?”

So that’s his name. The older dog, Leon. He looks worn out and mean. Brows furrowed, wrinkled forehead, dark hair that obscures most of his face. What a creep. You’ve been set up, the old lady at the pet shop told you this was going to be fun! She said you were gonna meet someone handsome, a stud who’d give you puppies. This dog looks like he doesn’t even go into rut anymore. His glory days are so over. Ten years past his prime. You stick your nose in the air and refuse to acknowledge him. He does the same.

“Leon, come on, buddy,” the man, well, you guess he’s your owner now, tries to coax him over, “don't be like this.”

Leon simply rolls onto his side, his ears flopping over so the pink underside is seen. Rude. You’re so pretty any normal mutt would be begging for it. But, you guess he’s just faulty. ‘Cause he’s an old man. Duh. This is so unfair, a pampered pooch like you deserves so much better. A two bedroom apartment with a single bathroom, and an open-plan kitchen is just not classy.

“Fuck, Leon, you always gotta be so damn difficult.” Your owner crouches down, fastens a collar around your neck. It’s pink so that's good at least. You’re a stupid pup, can’t quite make out what’s engraved on the doggy bone charm, but you assume it would be your name. “There you go, girl, you like it?”

You tilt your head to the side, but ultimately nod your head with a forced smile. Getting on your owner’s good side would be ideal. Maybe he’d spoil you a little extra. He’s awfully handsome when you take a moment to really look at him. Why couldn’t he have been the stud?

“That’s a good girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your head, “why don’t you go make yourself comfortable, pup?” He gives you a little smack on the bottom, makes you jump. Gosh. His hands are so big. He’s so big. You felt the way he flexed under your teeth earlier. So much meat to him.

With another huff, you walk around, sniff the couch cushions, press a dainty paw to the wall, admire all the framed photos. They’ve been together for a long time it seems. Your owner and Leon. He used to be perfectly pretty. Sunflower blonde, dopey smile on his slightly rounded face, puppy fat softening all his rough edges. Cute. You wish he still looked like that. His tail looks like more of a blur in the photos, towards the end he starts to mellow out, turning into what you’ve seen of him today. Moody.

“Leon was a military dog,” your owner explains. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s important. Considering all the strange clothes with leather straps and that ugly green print, there’s even a gun in your owner’s hands. “He’s retired now though. I thought you’d cheer him up a little.”

You blink at your owner, pressing your nose into his hand when he offers it, pink tongue licking at his salty fingers. Yeah, you like him. He’s firm and sweet. Smiles at you in a way that’s kind. Leon is the only problem. Whatever. He’ll kick the bucket soon enough, or maybe your owner will get tired of him. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you’ve got plenty up your sleeve to show off. Rolling over, batting your lashes, smiling, looking pretty. You’ve got it handled.

“You know how to speak, pup?” Owner cups your cheeks, “my name is Chris,” he says it slowly, waits till you repeat it back to him.

“Chris…” you’re hesitant to speak, unsure of if you did it right. He pats your head, offers you a paw-shaped treat, that must mean you did well.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Gosh. You like him lots ‘n lots. This place ain’t so bad after all.

“She’s settling in well,” Chris is on the phone with somebody, “no, course not, god, she’s a star.” He’s talking ‘bout you, and you like it. You’re the apple of his eye these days.

He scratches behind your ears as you sit beside him, chewing on a squeaky toy you gnawed at so bad it popped. Leon is laying on the floor as usual, sleeping soundly on a warm spot. You'd given him a shifty kick earlier, but he just grunted through a heavy snore.

It gets lonely when Chris leaves for the day, you often find yourself nesting in his bed, sniffing his pillow, chewing on one of his shirts for comfort. You get scolded for all the pin-sized holes left by your needle-sharp teeth, but you continue to do it. Leon is mean. He bares his teeth when you try to play, kicks you away when you try to curl into him at night, all sorts of things. He’s no fun, it’s why you cling to Chris’ leg, whine and scratch at the door, kick your legs and throw back your head to wail.

The door clicks shut after a short tussle between your teeth and the rough fabric of Chris’ jeans. You sniffle and curl up against the front door. This is so cruel of him. Why can’t he just stay and play all day? You have so many games planned that Leon never wants to partake in. Tug of war, fetch, tummy rubs, kisses, cuddles. It’ll be so much fun! And yet there’s nobody to do it with.

You nose at his cheek as he sleeps in his usual spot. Just by the window, bathed in the warmth of the yolky sunlight, chest rising and falling in tandem with his breaths. His nose scrunches ever so often, his tail mostly still, other than the little flick to the side it makes when you approach him carefully. He smells good. That’s the one thing you like about Leon. His scent. It’s thick and rich and has your gut bubbling with an unfamiliar feeling. However, you welcome it, it feels good to you. Makes you squeeze your thighs together.

“Leon,” your slurring speech makes his brows furrow, his lips downturned, “play with me.”

A low sound rumbles deep in his chest when you continue to prod at him, is he seriously growling at you? This dog has no manners whatsoever. Seriously, who raised him? It can’t have been Chris. “Leon,” you drag it out this time, whining as you clamber on top of him.

Sniffing his neck, you lick at his Adam’s apple, watch as it bobs when he swallows. He opens his eyes, glares at you through light lashes, swats at your face.

“Play with me, Leon,” your bottom lip juts out, giving him those eyes that no one is able to say no to. None of the pet shop workers could, and Chris certainly can’t, so Leon should surely fall for it.

Leon’s eye twitches, his lip curls upwards, flashing those big teeth of his. It’s a warning that you take with a grain of salt. “Leon, ‘m wanna play,” you say again, wriggling on top of him, your hands planted on that firm chest of his.

You’re a pest. A mutt at best. A bother, a hindrance, all of the above. Leon doesn’t know many other words. He has no clue on whose idea this was, couldn’t have been Chris on his own, must’ve been his sister. Or the lady with the pixie cut, one who brings him treats whenever she visits. ‘Cause Chris knows him well enough. Knows that Leon likes to be alone lately. That a new puppy is just an extra mouth to feed for Chris. He doesn’t need company, doesn’t appreciate a hyperactive pup kneeing him in the gut every hour in an attempt to play some kiddy games.

Total cutie. He’ll give you that. Soft and sweet like all puppies are. Floppy ears, fluffy tail, cute teeth that don’t do much damage. Droopy tits, layer of pudge that puppies tend to have, full hips, and a pert ass.

Now, Leon would never hurt you on purpose. It’s why he sticks to threats he never follows through with. Snarling, baring his teeth, the regular shit. Would get any normal pup scampering away from him, but you’re spoiled rotten. You get what you want at the drop of a hat. He blames that on Chris. Old age has made him sappy. Old age has only made Leon feel like shit. His bones ache on the daily, can’t even get up to bark at the mailman anymore, his walks have been cut down to half an hour once a day, finds it harder to chew on those dental bones Chris tosses him. Stressful times. And the cherry on top of his shit sandwich is you. The little nuisance who insists on bothering him no matter what.

“Leon,” you start again, talking in that high-pitched tone, an excessive amount of spit garbling your speech, “play!”

Christ, you don’t know when to give up. He gives you a light shove, hopes it’s enough to deter you, of course that's just wishful thinking. You bounce back fast. Pressing your forehead to his, you muster up your nastiest glare. Cute. You’re cute when you do that. “Play with me.” Each word is punctuated by your fists smacking down on his chest.

You’re hovering over him, bare bottom on his clothed lap, tits pressed flush to his chest. Every piece of clothing Chris tried to put on you was deemed itchy. Snipping off the labels never helped, you seem to only like cashmere, expensive taste. So he gave up. Lets you wander around in your birthday suit.

“I don’t want to play,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, expression contorting into one of restraint when you rock your hips back and forth absentmindedly. You’re being playful. Trying to get him up, trying to get any sort of reaction from him. But he can feel you. Leon’s been out of business for a long time. He was so damn sure his dick had malfunctioned a couple years back. No seed left to spare. This old dog was dried out.

This is all it took to get him fixed up? Puppy cunt? God. What a sicko. He sits up, hands on your hips to still you. Your brow quirks in confusion, blinking at him dumbly. Poor puppy. Don’t even know how wet you are. How your heady scent is coating the walls, making it unbearable for Leon to even breathe. He’s going fuckin’ crazy.

Leon pins you down, hair hanging in your face as he hovers over you. “Playing?” You ask him, face lighting up at the prospect of getting him to join in on your games.

Oh, he’ll teach you a new game, alright. It’s cute how you act all haughty, get Chris running around like a headless chicken ‘cause you’ve got so many demands, when really you’re just a stupid pup. Can’t even take care of yourself. Walkin’ around with this drippy pussy, an itch so deep in your core you can’t scratch it. Leon can’t lie, he’s cracked open an eye to see you trying your best to get rid of it. The ache in your lower belly. Rubbing yourself all over that pink teddy Chris brought back after a trip. Pressing its wet snout deep into your cunt to get rid of that strange tingle, but to no avail. Leon found it a little funny. He remembers being that way.

The sound you let out when he spreads your fat pussy is adorable. A whine that borders on a yelp. You’re frightened and confused for a moment, until his fingertips find your swollen clit, pushing back the hood, swiping over it again and again. Then you melt into a puddle of goop. That’s right. Must feel so damn good. You’ve got a chubby cunt, pillowy lips that hide your bud from his view, fluffy fur all over your tummy and crotch that’ll shed in a few months time and grow back in a darker shade. Cute little thing. He’s gonna eat you up.

He bullies his way between your thighs. Your scent is so much thicker now. Clinging to his skin in a way he’ll be unable to wash off. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has your hips bucking up, pelvis mashing into his nose a little painfully. Leon makes sure to hold you down. You’re sugary sweet in his mouth, like he’s bitten into a ripe fruit. Your pussy sure is the sweetest peach he’s ever seen.

“Leon…” you grab at his ears, tug on them to combat the immense pleasure that tears through you. Ouch. He’s gotta get Chris to trim those claws of yours down.

His hand is splayed across your tummy, holding you down as he buries his face in your cunt. Leon nips at your inner thighs then goes back to making those obnoxious noises that any lady with dignity would be mortified by. But you’re a stupid puppy that can’t tell left from right. Eyes rolling back into your skull as he slurps away, lips smacking noisily, his tongue fucking in and out of that tight hole.

Your toes curl in your fluffy socks, hips arching up despite his hold on them, pussy gushing like a burst pipe all over him. “There you go, atta girl,” Leon hums, flicking your clit one last time for good measure. He smiles at the sound you let out, a pitchy yap of irritation.

More where that came from. You got him all worked up. That hasn’t happened in years. His cock is dripping, a wet patch forms in the front of his sweats that he’s quick to lower. Your mouth waters at the sight, smiling at him all dopey. It’s instinct, it seems, for you to be a greedy, cock-hungry little pup. Leon’s all for enthusiasm, so he’ll give it to you, reward the spoiled little pup.

He’s sheathed inside of you in no time. You’re made for this sorta thing. Made to be a breeding bitch if he wants to get crude about it. So he doesn’t worry too much ‘bout how you’re adjusting. Just moves his hips forward sharply, fat tip jabbing at your cervix, and watching as you tremble.

“Mmm, Leon,” your nails scratch down his chest, ears flattening against your head as you gaze up at him with starry eyes. This all it takes to calm you down? Some dick? Leon’s willing to give it whenever you get rowdy. Spit pools in your mouth, dribbles down your chin, and he’s quick to lick it up. You don’t know how to kiss him. But you try. It’s clumsy and open-mouthed, your tiny hands cupping his stubbly cheeks as you just kinda slobber all over the lower half of his face. That’s alright. Leon got the hang of it after about five years. He can teach you.

You’re sucking his dick in, pussy tight around him like a vice, his balls slap against your ass. It’s so good. Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. Should’ve jumped you the moment Chris brought you home. What an idiot. He was basically gifting Leon a living fuckdoll and he missed out on it for a good month or so. You’re so easy, kicking your legs, and digging your nails into his biceps as you cream on his fat cock, leaving a ring of milky white around the base.

He’s old now, can’t help the way his breath is a little ragged as he nears his high, can’t last as long as he used to. Don’t matter anyway. ‘Cause you’re satisfied. He fills you up like a creampuff. There’s a little surprise on your face when his knot begins to swell, stretching your cute hole till it’s gaping.

“Fun.” You tell him with a sleepy smile. Leon’s tongue smooths over your fluffy ears, he remembers his fur being this soft. They’re wet with perspiration, but he likes the taste of you. He grooms you to his heart's content. It’s been a while since he’s done any of that. Makes him feel rather happy actually. Like a weight has lifted from his chest. You’re falling asleep so he manages to roll over, careful not to move too fast and tear you in half while he’s knotted. He has you on top of him, face in his neck as you snore lightly. The warmth is putting him to sleep too.

Leon only stirs when he hears the jingle of keys and a few voices from down the hall. You’re still knocked out and drooling. The front door opens, Chris is talking to someone he tries to pick up on through smell.

“Jesus, buddy, what’d you do to her?” Chris kneels down beside them, pats Leon’s head then yours.

“They do get along well, Chris,” it’s Rebecca, she’s smiling down at Leon, he can sniff out those expensive treats in the pocket of her winter coat. “Guess it’s just when you’re around.”

“No, no, I swear,” he holds his hands up in defence, “Leon’s always being a fuckin’ bastard when it comes to her.”

“You’re just being mean to him,” Rebecca says, cooing as she pinches Leon’s cheek, “hey, there, good boy.”

“Yeah,” Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, “sure, whatever, glad you like your new pal, buddy.”

#resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #my fics

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