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ozzgin · 2 months

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okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #female reader #obsessive love

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simpjaes · 1 year

Text

SIMP

SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet.

jake sim x afab reader

MDNI!

WC: 5.6k

GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake

TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.

A/N: i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened. this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read

NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks.

You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin.

Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.

“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you.

He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but, this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”

You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him.

“So you’re not going to, then?”

Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.

“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”

You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room.

“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there.

“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?”

You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.

If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now.

Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.

You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.

This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body.

“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”

Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight.

You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you.

“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.” You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”

His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now.

“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”

He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)

Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.

You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.

“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”

“Oh? Just me, or?”

Jake nods, then shakes his head.

“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”

You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it.

“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.”

He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.

“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”

God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this.

“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”

He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.

“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it.

You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.

“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”

Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.

“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”

Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief.

He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties.

“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.

“Take them off.” You deadpan.

He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you.

“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be.

He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees.

Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.

“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down.

He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud.

“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.

“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”

He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.

Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him.

“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him.

“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”

You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–

He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm.

“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”

He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being.

“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”

Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls.

“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”

“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet.

“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible.

You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips.

“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”

He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open.

“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god.

“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you.

You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep.

His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.

You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.

He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream.

Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you.

In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now.

Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him.

As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.

His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it.

He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy.

You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy?

“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?”

His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing.

“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face.

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.

“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower.

Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing.

He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality.

Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.

“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”

His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease.

You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length.

He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in.

It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more.

You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck.

“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.

You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger.

Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.

Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.

“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction.

When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.

He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it.

Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.

“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him.

Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.

“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again.

You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.

Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts.

You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him.

He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.

“Lay back.”

That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.

Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.

He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.

That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.

He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.

You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug.

“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it. You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug.

“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed.

His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life.

“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you.

He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.

You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.

He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release.

He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure.

You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.

By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”

And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number.

He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised.

You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him.

#sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen jake smut #sim jake smut

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luvjunie · 9 months

Text

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles angst #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #miles morales angst #tagging x reader for reach #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv angst #miles morales fic

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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months

Text

A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 5 months

Text

Request from @imagine-all-the-fandoms: You have a crush on each other but of course don't talk about it. Then one night you enter the living room all dressed up for a date and buck is totally flashed by you, until you ask for his opinion on it. When he realizes this is for another guy he gets all moody and leaves. Then instead of your date, you head to Bucky's room and decide to finally make a move and kiss him and admit your feelings, which leads to sleeping with him and afterwards lots of cuddles and cute Bucky?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+ angsty feelings, some fluff at the end, reader's relationship with an OC, smut, p in v sex without barrier protection, jealous and possessive behavior from Bucky, very minor injury

Bucky Barnes was your best friend. Maybe you might not be his. But how exactly does one compete with Steve Rogers?

Anyway, that was how you felt. Bucky didn't open up to many people, and you felt honored to be included amongst his few trusted individuals. It had been a year ago that you became part of the Avengers initiative. It hadn't taken you long to be accepted as part of the team, become everyone's favorite confidante, in fact.

There was something about you that people trusted, they would open up to you in a way that they didn't to anyone else. Your charms had even managed to weave their magic over one grumpy super soldier. And he was by far your favorite follower.

It had taken a few weeks before he had given in to your spell, finally admitting his love of pancakes to you during one of your midnight snack quests. It was the first piece of personal information he had shared with you and you always remembered it. In fact you'd joined him for a midnight pancake treat on many occasions since that day.

The way you smiled at him lit up his world. Bucky was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He wasn’t the only one. Objectively, people wouldn’t have described you as the most beautiful person or the hottest, but there was something about you that shone, the expressiveness of your eyes, the kindness in your heart and the unknown bounds of your acceptance of others that drew people to you. Your personality was all anyone saw once they spoke to you and it was stunning.

There were times though, when it all became too much for you, listening to people's problems got a little overwhelming. It was these times that you sought out the company of people you trusted, the people who really saw you for who you were, a slightly nerdy introvert. The list was small; it included Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers and your favorite, James Barnes.

There was something about the solitary supersoldier that intrigued you. He didn't spill his problems to you like others did, you'd had to work very hard at gaining his trust but once you had, you felt like you'd discovered a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Bucky had an unexpected depth and his interests were surprisingly in tune with yours. Steve always seemed to be lost in documentaries when you sat down for down time with him and Nat found joy from horror movies which were far from your taste in cinematography. But Bucky was happy to watch a fantasy or science fiction film with you any time, dawn or dusk.

Bucky enjoyed your interests, but it was your company he enjoyed more. You made him feel comfortable, you didn't ask him intrusive questions, you forgave his selective mutism if he was having a bad day, making no irritating attempts to make him feel happier or better as the other members of the team were so apt to do. No, you let him be himself, in fact, you almost seemed to like his sullen silences.

What he liked the most was that you seemed to be a different person when he was around. You seemed more relaxed, the radiant sunshine demeanor that you exuded became muted, as though you knew that he needed a dimmer switch to help him cope. His scowls were far less ferocious when you were around but woe befell anyone who interrupted or invaded his time with you, his face would become dark and his mood would often turn sour. The only person who he would gracefully accept as an outsider to your pair was Steve. In short, Bucky Barnes was in love with you. Not that he would ever let it show.

The only person who could see Bucky’s feelings for you was Steve. He would smile in a knowing way when he walked in on the two of you laughing together, sharing a plate of nachos. He knew from the way you curled up at Bucky’s side that you harbored similar feelings. The only difference for you is that you had convinced yourself that Bucky couldn’t possibly feel the same way. Friendship was one thing, but you couldn’t imagine that he would want anything more than that. One day, when you had seen a female agent flirting with Bucky and he had smiled back, turned on the 1940’s charm that he apparently was famous for, that was the day you’d decided to put your feelings aside and move on with your life.

It was that decision that led to your current situation. A new dress and fancy heels later, you trotted to the common living area to get your bestie’s opinion. Your makeup was perfect, highlighting your prominent features and Bucky thought you looked radiant as you paraded your dress in front of him, seeking his approval. Naturally, you had it, you always had his approval, it didn’t matter what you were wearing.

“Where are you going all dolled up like that?” Bucky looked you up and down, admiring the view.

“Sidney and I are going out.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. You’ve been hanging out with her a lot. It’s nice that you’re getting along with the other agents too,” he smiled. Bucky was always encouraging of you, even if he would have preferred to keep you all to himself.

You laughed. Bucky usually reveled in the sound, but today he would be wishing he hadn’t heard it at all.

“Bucky!” you swatted his arm playfully. “Sidney is a guy. The guy I’m dating. I’ve told you about this.”

“Yeah, Buck, I did.” You pouted, “were you just pretending to listen?”

“What? No you didn’t.”

“Of course not, you said you were going to minigolf. You were so happy because you won.” Bucky smiled slightly at the memory. How you’d come home with red cheeks from the cold and the joy of winning at minigolf.

“That was our fourth date.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “Are you dating a woman?” he asked quietly.

“No, Buck. I mean I have, but Sidney isn’t one.”

“Oh,” Bucky mumbled, processing the information you'd given him.

Your sexual history didn't bother him, it was your present that did. Suddenly Bucky didn't want to look at you. Knowing you'd be spending your time with another man looking the way you did. He hated the thought. He wanted you to dress up for him that way, he wanted to be the one who ripped that pretty little dress off your body, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss you, to touch you, to claim every single part of you. But instead he got to watch another man sweep you off your feet.

“Well I better finish getting ready.”

You gasped as Bucky stood up suddenly.

“You're unbelievable,” he muttered, a darkness descending across his handsome features.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you asked, angrily.

“Nothing. Go have fun on your date.” Bucky stormed out without a backward glance.

He left you in the living room feeling lost and alone. Tears sprung into your eyes and your enthusiasm for your night out fizzled out completely. You couldn't understand his behavior, the sergeant had always treated you so well. Had you done something to upset him?

The sadness you felt was suddenly overcome with anger. Whatever it was that had upset him, you didn't deserve the attitude he was displaying towards you. In fact, you were going to tell him just that. But first, you picked your phone to make a call.

“Hey Sidney? … Yeah about that. I'm sorry Sidney. I know you went to a lot of trouble organizing tonight. I was really looking forward to it. But something’s come up here. I can't get out of it.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone. Sidney had been understanding, waving off your apology with such grace. On paper, he was the perfect partner for you, he was handsome, he shared so many of your interests and he accepted you for who you were. But you didn't feel butterflies when you thought of him, your face didn't light up when you spoke about him, he didn't fill you with warmth the way Bucky did.

Outrage still bubbled under the surface as you put your phone back on the dressing table in your room, so you decided to address the person who had caused the issue. You marched down the corridor, your stiletto heels clacking angrily as you made your way to Bucky’s room. As you pounded on the door, it flew open just in time for you to fling your hands up protectively as an object hit the wall beside your head.

Bucky’s eyes went wide as he saw the shock on your face. He had been pacing up and down his room and caught sight of a photo of the two of you smiling at each other. He couldn’t bear to see it anymore, to look at you when you didn’t look back at him that way. He had grabbed the photograph, letting it fly away from him in an attempt to extinguish the anguish he felt.

“Wow, do you hate me that much?” you asked. Your anger evaporated as quickly as it had arrived.

Bucky stood, speechless, as you bent down and picked up the smashed photo frame.

“Be careful,” Bucky warned you, as your shoe crushed a piece of broken glass.

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“And going out with some random man who knows nothing about you is what? … safe?”

“Why do you even care, Bucky?”

“You're my friend, you think I want you to get hurt?”

“What makes you think that I need that from you? I mean, if this is what you think of our friendship.” You held up the broken picture frame as a reference to your comment. A single tear slipped down your cheek.

Bucky had the decency to look ashamed of himself, at least that is how you interpreted the look on his face. What you didn't see was the guilt that bubbled under the surface, the devastation at the thought of losing you to someone else.

“He isn't good enough for you.”

You scoffed. “You don't even know him.”

“I don't need to.”

He approached you slowly and stopped right in front of you. If you hadn't spent months getting to know him, you'd be afraid of him, the way his vibranium fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly. But you knew it was a nervous tic of his, not a threatening one.

Bucky bent down and started picking up the shards of glass, then with a low voice, he mumbled something.

“You deserve to be with someone who knows how special you are.”

Had you heard him correctly?

You crouched down to help him with the cleaning.

“Leave that, I'll do it.”

“Bucky…” You picked up a small piece of glass between your fingers. “What do you mean?”

“You'll hurt yourself.” He took the glass from you.

You wrapped your hand around his wrist. “Bucky,” you whispered.

But Bucky couldn't look at you, that voice inside his brain that blamed himself for the actions of the Winter Soldier was the same one that often told him that he wasn't good enough for you. How could anyone as bright as you care for someone who held such darkness inside of him? He stood up, hiding his expression from you.

You sighed, reaching down to pick up one last piece. But you were hurt and careless and the sharp edge sliced your finger, drawing blood, making you hiss with pain.

“I told you to leave it alone!” He grabbed your wrist this time, trying to examine your wound. “This is exactly why I told you not to touch it. It won't hurt me.”

“I don't understand why you're upset.”

“This isn't deep.” He let go of your arm, walking away from you.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?”

“I don't want you to date him.”

You were surprised but you didn’t let it show on your face. “Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?” Bucky frowned in confusion.

“Yeah.”

“No explanation needed?”

“I want you to be happy. And if this upsets you, I won't date Sidney.” You sighed, you hated that he had this power over you, that you were willing to give up a chance for your own happiness because Bucky said so. But you knew you would do anything for him, even if you ended up being single for the rest of your life. And it was all very overrated anyway, happy relationships, you didn’t know anyone who didn’t have problems with the people they had attached themselves to. Who needed a family, it was all nothing but trouble, you said to yourself.

“I don't want to lose you,” Bucky muttered.

“Bucky, you'll never lose me.” It felt like you were telling him you loved him without using the actual words. Rising up onto your toes, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I care about you, Bucky.”

Bucky brought his hand to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the streak of fluid your tears had left. He leaned in towards you until you could feel his breath against your lips. You opened and closed your mouth, feeling like a goldfish because no sound would come out. The way Bucky was looking into your eyes had rendered you speechless. It almost felt like the love you felt for him was being reflected back at you. You wanted to kiss him but you couldn’t move. His nose brushed lightly against yours and then his lips were pressed against yours. It started out gentle, his mouth against yours, lips moving in tandem, until his tongue sought out yours. The taste of you seemed to ignite a deeper desire inside him because suddenly his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you closer, closer than you’d ever been to him, enveloped in his embrace as his hands roamed over your back, fingers pushing into you through the fabric of your little black dress.

You wrapped your arms tightly around Bucky's neck and as he straightened his back, you were lifted off the floor. The only way for you to support yourself was to wrap your legs around his waist, and Bucky's hands on your ass gave you the encouragement you needed to take this next step. Soon your core was rubbing against his crotch and Bucky stumbled across to the bed, laying you down with surprising tenderness. He knelt down between your splayed legs and smiled at you with an adoring gaze.

“I've wanted this for so long,” he whispered, as though a loud noise might wake him for this dream.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn't you?”

You laughed to yourself, both of you had been so afraid of losing the other that you'd missed out on the happiness you'd sought from each other.

“Do we have to talk about this right now? I want to go back to the kissing,” you pouted.

This earned you one of those rare joyous laughs from him, ones that he often saved for you. You treasured each and every one of these, they were so rare and precious. Bucky captured your protruding lower lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before going back to the heated lip lock you'd been engaged in earlier.

Only when he was grinding his hips into yours and moaning that a horrifying thought entered your mind.

“Bucky,” you called his name quietly.

“Mmm?” he hummed, not taking his lips off the spot on your neck that he was sucking enthusiastically.

“Buck… stop.”

There was a pop as the seal of his lips on your neck broke. “Are you okay?”

“I can't…”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky backed away, like he'd been burned.

“Buck, wait,” you reached for his hand. “I mean, I need to talk to Sidney.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Of course, you have a date.”

“Bucky, I need to break it off with him before we… I don't want to be that person. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, sitting down beside you as you pulled the straps of your dress back over your shoulder.

“Can you give me some time to go talk to him?”

Bucky nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak lest his voice betrayed his disappointment. But you knew him well enough to read his face.

“Hey, I'll be back. I promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take.

He smiled and linked his little finger with yours. One of the things he admired most about you was your integrity. You stood up, leaning back for one more quick kiss before you walked away, only letting go of his hand once you both couldn't extend your arms any further. You stole one last look at him before closing the door.

On your way back to your room, you called Sidney, asking him to meet you, before you changed out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. A heavy guilt settled on your chest, you knew you'd be hurting him but you knew you couldn't offer him your whole heart, not when you knew Bucky was at home waiting for you. The next hour was a difficult one for you, you did your best to be gentle and considerate of Sidney’s feelings as you let him down.

“Look Sidney, I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t mean to string you along.”

“But you’re in love with someone else.” Sidney looked at you with a sad smile.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “How do- what makes you say that?”

“It’s the way you talk about Sergeant Barnes,” he said knowingly.

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to hide the tears threatening to escape.

“He’s a lucky man.” Sidney leant down and gave you a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

You sighed as you made your way back home, still feeling a little deflated about what you’d just done. But a promise was a promise and you didn’t want to keep Bucky waiting. It was the thought of Bucky that stopped you dragging your feet but you made a pitstop in your room to freshen up your makeup.

Before you knew it, you were back outside Bucky’s door and you were pretty certain your heart skipped a beat as you knocked nervously. What if he had changed his mind?

There clearly wasn’t cause for concern because Bucky opened the door so fast, you wondered if he had just been standing on the other side waiting for you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and scooped you into his chest, shutting the door with the edge of his foot.

Bucky kissed you as though he hadn’t seen you in years and you melted into him with a sigh.

“You were gone too long,” he pouted. “I missed you.”

“You okay?” he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice as he ran his thumb along your jaw. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

He was right, it hadn’t been easy for you to break off your relationship with Sidney. You never enjoyed hurting other people. You made time for people’s problems, even when you were exhausted, always ready to lend that extra helping hand. Your generosity of spirit was another reason that Bucky admired you. It made you smile, the way he understood your feelings without you having to explain them to him.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Being with Bucky seemed to make your problems disappear and your feelings for him surged to the surface.

“Are you sure?” he asked, nuzzling your ear and peppering the side of your neck with tiny kisses.

“Yeah, glad to be here with you,” you hummed, enjoying the way his skin felt against yours.

“You sure you haven't got any more men stashed away that I need to know about?” he mumbled.

You pulled away slightly, just to look him directly in the eye so he knew the sincerity of your next words. “No secret stash. Only you.”

“Just me?” Bucky put his hands on cheeks, putting his fingers under your jaw to tilt your face up to look at him.

“I'm all yours, Bucky.”

You leaned up, puckering your lips for a kiss and he obliged. Locked at the mouth, he led you backwards until your heels hit the edge of the bed.

“Tell me again,” he growled, pushing his chest against you til you were falling backwards onto the mattress.

Only your fall wasn't uncontrolled, Bucky's strong hands had settled on you back and he guided your descent. You grabbed the front of his Henley in your hands and pulled him down on top of you.

“Yours,” you claimed his lips hungrily.

“That's right, mine,” his voice rasped, making you tingle with anticipation.

He pushed his hips against yours, grinning proudly as you moaned in approval.

“You like that, huh?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you heard his belt unbuckling, hearing a clang as it fell onto the floor. He pushed his hand under the seam of your leggings and slid it between your legs. A wanton moan left your mouth as you felt his fingers rubbing on your clothed core.

"Look at you, Doll. You're so fucking wet...and I haven't even touched you yet." Bucky’s voice was low and rumbled through you like thunder.

He wiggled his fingers under your panties and between your folds, smirking into your neck and a gasp escaped your lips. Before you knew it, your eyes were rolling back as his fingers stroked your pussy.

“Bucky,” you whined as his fingers delved deeper.

It barely registered as his vibranium fingers pulled down your leggings and joined its flesh twin on your clit. Your breathing quickened to match the pace that he was pushing his fingers into you. Every push had you uttering a quiet sigh as he caressed your walls.

“So wet,” he hummed. “I’m the only one who can touch you like this. The only one who can make you feel like this, right?”

“Only you, Bucky.”

Before you could enjoy Bucky’s fingers more, they left your body. You whimpered at the loss. His hands went to the fabric around your waist, tugging it down until it was off completely and he used his hands to open your legs further. You tried not to gawk at him as he removed his clothes, layer by layer. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t seen Bucky shirtless before, but watching him strip between your spread legs was making you melt. He knelt down at your core, hands ripping apart your bra before kneading your breasts and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You moaned out when Bucky pinched your nipples harshly.

“Nothing but you,” you repeated, biting your lip with anticipation.

“Doll, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll completely forget who Sidney ever was. I’ll give you my love until you’re satisfied. You’ll think of nothing but me.”

“Good. Now let’s make sure that you will never be able to look at that man again without thinking of this moment," Bucky groaned as he began to nibble on your neck.

His lips sucked and nibbled at your skin, marking his territory. He tugged his underwear down his thighs, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly and sensually, he rubbed his tip against you, getting lost in his own pleasure for a moment, forgetting to remind you who you belonged to. Loud moans escaped your mouth as he slammed into you with hardly any warning.

"Fuck, you're so tight, Doll,” Bucky groaned into your ear. “Feel so good.”

Bucky lifted your legs up onto his chest so your calves rested on his shoulders. He pulled your hips into his and started pushing into you repeatedly, almost mercilessly.

“Sidney only wishes that he could fuck you like this,” he leaned over so his face was up close to yours. “But no one will ever fill you up like I can. No one can make you feel good the way I can. You’re mine, Doll, only for me to have.”

“Buc-” you breathed, barely able to speak.

“What are you?”

“Yours Sergeant, I’m all yours. Promise. Yours. Only yours!” you repeated over and over.

Desperate for your release, you reached down to your clit.

“Don’t even think about it,” Bucky growled. “You come on my cock screaming my name or you don’t come at all.”

Bucky leaned forwards til his face was inches from yours, bending your legs right up to your chest.

"You feel that, Doll? You feel how I fill you up?" Bucky demanded.

You nodded, unable to speak at first. Eventually you gasped out the words, "I feel you, Bucky.”

"And could he ever make you feel as good as I make you feel?" Bucky asked before going back to fucking you hard and fast.

"No Bucky, never,” you moaned.

You could feel your orgasm approaching far more rapidly than normal and Bucky had gone back to marking his territory with his lips on your skin. It almost burned where he was sucking against your clavicle.

“Bu- Buck-”

“Yeah?” He slowed to respond to your attempts at his name.

His lips were only inches away from yours. All you wanted was to meet them, but instead, Bucky bit your lip harshly, making you throw back your head in pleasure as he kept sucking on you.

"That's what I want to hear," Bucky cooed as he finally kissed you.

He buried his face into your breasts as his thrusts became more frantic. His hands snaked around your waist, a surprisingly soft action for all the roughness he’d displayed up until this point. The moans he released into your ear alone would make you come. The feeling of his balls slapping against your ass, cock diving deep inside of you, sent you spiraling.

“Bucky!” You muttered his name, unable to focus on anything but the way his cock and hands worked your body, filling you to the brim. Pleasure completely overwhelming your mind and body.

“That’s right, Doll. You were made for me.”

“Please, Bucky, I want to come!” There was nothing that could stop the cry that leaves your lips, you needed it so badly, you wanted him so badly.

“Do it already,” Bucky goaded. “Come for me. Come because I want you to.”

“Yes Bucky, yes!” You as his words finally pushed you over the edge, his name leaving your lips as you finally reached your peak.

The only thing you could think of was his cock thrusting inside you. Your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock making him release with a grunt and a moan as he coated you in his seed. He stayed inside you, catching his breath, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes with such complete adoration that it almost took your breath away. At least until he pulled out of you slowly, making his cum spill out of you and drip across your abdomen.

“You did such a good job, Doll,” Bucky whispered to you as he softly kissed your forehead. “My pretty girl. You rest now, let me clean you up.”

You pushed yourself up the bed, trying to avoid spilling his seed all over the clean bed sheets. Bucky reappeared quickly with a washcloth and started wiping himself off your skin, parting your legs gently and cleaning over your folds.

“Bucky, I-” you reached out to stop him, suddenly feeling incredibly self conscious about this new level of intimacy. “You don't have to.”

Bucky sat down beside you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, voice filled with tenderness.

He finished up and lay down beside you, giving you one of his looser fitting t-shirts which you slipped over your head gratefully. You tucked yourself into his side and rested your head on his shoulder, sighing as his fingers fluttered over your thighs and over the curve of your ass.

“Was that okay?” he whispered into your hair, his warm breath blowing against the bare skin on your neck.

“It was amazi-.” You started answering but your voice was interrupted by a loud growl from your stomach.

“Still hungry, huh?”

You blushed, hiding your face in his warm sturdy chest.

“Want to grab some dinner. Can't have my best girl starving.”

A warmth spread through you at his words. “Maybe in a bit? I don't want to move yet. Is that okay?” You looked up at him.

He smiled down at you, placing a small kiss at the tip of your nose. “Perfect.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

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allieebobo · 7 months

Note

Do you have any if recommendation?

Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.

I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:

(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)

WIPs with demos

Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)

Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)

Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)

When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)

Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)

A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)

Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)

Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)

Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)

Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).

Completed IFs

Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)

Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)

The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)

Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)

#asks #if #IF recommendations #other IFs #interactive fiction

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Taste of Shame

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex working, sexual tension ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn't no longer matter when he meets his friend's younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Until he met Criston and Robert at university he was a total loner, really only going to classes and shopping. Ever since he moved out of his family home, he didn't feel the need to interact with anyone except his mother and his youngest brother.

Nonetheless, once their quantum physics professor selected them as a group to tackle a joint project in his class, it turned out that they got along very well.

He was quiet and withdrawn, best at solving equations and finding the correct formulae; Robert threw interesting, chaotic insights and ideas from his sleeve, and Criston pulled it all together to form a whole.

They scored the highest possible grade and from then on they naturally stuck together; Robert and Criston didn't seem to mind that he usually didn't contribute to their discussions, simply allowing him to be in their company with a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine.

They often asked him where he got his money from, since, according to him, his parents did not help him financially to live in a completely different city. He usually answered evasively, feeling a squeeze in his throat in those moments, a fear that one day they would somehow find out how he made his living.

What he was doing.

That women paid him to tie them up, to beat them, to slap them, to degrade and humiliate them, to fuck them in ways he wouldn't even be able to explain, taking unspeakable satisfaction from it.

He was a professional; he signed contracts that included each party's boundary and safety words. He expected his clients to have medical examinations to make sure they didn't carry any diseases, but he used condoms anyway.

He rented a bedsit intended as a meeting place, with no intention of hosting anyone in his flat; his main rule was not to get emotionally involved, apart from having sex and entitling himself that his client was comfortable, he did not get into any conversations with them even though they tried to do so.

It started with one woman, Alys, who he met when he graduated from high school; it turned her on when he tied her up, when he fucked her while telling her she was a nobody, when he punished her and it shocked him what a tremendous sense of power it gave him.

She told him admiringly that he could be a professional dom and earn a lot from it, which gave him pause for thought. To her despair, he ended their relationship shortly after he started doing it for money, recognising that he didn't want to break his rule about not having a relationship, where she already knew far too much about him.

He was more careful with others.

They called him sir and knew nothing about him except what they read on the website.

He admired in a way how desperate some of them were, how much they were balancing on the edge of overdoing it; in a few cases he had to check their pulse to make sure he hadn't killed them.

His clients were not poor women and sometimes, for extra things or to show him their admiration, they paid him more than what they had agreed for; however, he never accepted excess money, knowing that if he broke the rules they would think they could expect more from him, which he was unwilling to allow.

So, for obvious reasons, he kept his profession to himself, fearing that if his friends found out about it they would think he was just fucked up. He genuinely liked them, as well as the field of study he was attending, and didn't want to change anything in his life.

When Robert invited him and Criston to his house for his birthday he agreed immediately, seeing no obstacles to celebrating with him; he knew that apart from him and Criston there would be a few more friends from his neighbourhood and he was fine with that.

When he got his car into his driveway he decided to have a smoke before going inside, tired after a long, intense session with his female client, wanting to clear his mind.

That's when he heard her for the first time.

"Are you Robert's friend?!"

He looked over his shoulder and saw her − she had jumped off the blue slim bike with the white basket in the front. Her hair was loose and in a slight disarray due to the wind, her face pink from exertion, her full lips parted slightly in a quickened breath, her large eyes shining with curiosity.

He felt everything he saw in his cock, looking at her pale, with his eyes imagining her moaning beneath him with that pleading, sweet voice to keep fucking her.

"− yeah −" He hummed in a slightly trembling voice, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, trying to hide what was happening to him, in what direction to his horror his thoughts had fled.

"That's wonderful! I'm Robert's sister. I forgot to buy candles for his cake, which was rather unfortunate considering it's his birthday and I had to go quickly to get them." She said breathing heavily as she walked with her bicycles deeper into the driveway, looking at him expectantly over her shoulder. "Do you have a lighter?"

He couldn't play the idiot and pretend he didn't have one, so, as she requested, they went around her house and walked inside from the terrace, walking quietly to the kitchen − he could hear the voices of Robert, Criston and the other guests in the distance.

She opened the fridge, which illuminated her pleasant, smiling face with a bright, bluish light, and slowly pulled out a meringue cake with a cucumber glaze decorated with berries.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I was making it for the first time. Can you help me?" She asked lightly, pulling candles from the pocket of her dress.

He just nodded, feeling his mind working in slow motion, his heart pounding like mad, his mind focused on her body and on her scent, some sweet, girly fruity perfume.

He thought, swallowing loudly, that she was like a ripe peach or strawberry, begging to be bitten into, to taste its flesh.

He pressed his lips together, sticking the last candle into the crisp texture of the meringue, thinking with despair that he was a disgusting man, that she was his friend's younger sister.

And above all, she was not his client.

He handed her a lighter; their faces lit up by the warm glow of the fire as she began to light the candles one by one. She smiled at him when she finished in a way that made him feel like saying he didn't give a shit about the candles, the cake and Robert's birthday − just to pull her panties off her legs and fuck her on the countertop.

"Let's go." She said warmly and he nodded, letting out the air from his lungs, watching her with a look that, had it not been for the darkness in the room, would surely have terrified her.

They walked into the living room; his sister began to sing a Happy Birthday loudly and the other guests joined her in chorus, Robert stood up embarrassed but clearly pleased. After a round of applause, he walked over to them and blew out the candles, saying happily that his little sister remembered how he loved the meringues and hugged her.

He lowered his gaze at the thought that they were close.

That he needed to pull himself together.

When Robert offered him a drink he immediately agreed, distraught and terrified at the thought of spending the whole evening in her company; she walked around the room with a smile, talking to everyone lightly as if she had known them for years.

At the same time, he craved and feared that she would eventually sit down next to him, noticing his distancing and tiredness and walked out into the garden, sitting down on a bench, lighting a cigarette.

He closed his eyes as he heard someone's footsteps and for some reason he knew, subconsciously felt, that it was her.

He smelled her scent as she sat down next to him with a quiet creak of old wood and slowly opened his eyelids, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was holding her drink, probably vodka with orange juice and mango, for some reason it seemed obvious to him that she only liked alcohol if it was sweet.

"Beautiful evening." She said warmly, softly, her gaze slightly dreamy, gazing up at the cloudless, starry sky, her body as if spilling over the backrest of the bench, her head lying comfortably on it, framed by her shiny hair.

He thought with embarrassment that he couldn't cause her pain even if she begged him to.

Though maybe he could slap her buttock a time or two before sinking his face between her thighs, leaving the red mark of his hand on her skin.

He swallowed loudly, taking another drag on his cigarette, looking ahead, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, the arousal he knew so well, his manhood twitched in his trousers.

He didn't answer.

After a moment, however, Criston came out to them, chatting them up, making him feel relieved, feeling like he was going to go mad because of her presence.

He left the party faster than he wanted to; Robert tried to stop him by saying that he could spend the night at his house, but he refused, terrified by this vision, knowing that he wouldn't last, that he would go to her room.

That one word from her would be enough to make him fuck her and regret it for the rest of his life.

He would leave her with nothing afterwards.

She seemed like a good, nice girl, deserving of a decent man who wouldn't think about tying her up.

As he drove home in his car he breathed out loud, somehow proud of himself, knowing that he had done the right thing, that maybe he wasn't as bad a person as he thought he was.

He fought with himself not to look for her on social media, and although he himself had accounts under pseudonyms with black squares in place of profile pictures, knowing that she was Robert's sister, finding her was too easy for him to resist.

So, in despair, he spent the evening giving up, recognising that if someone publishes something on the internet it means they agree to let others look at it. He swallowed loudly, surprised to see a new notification on Facebook and it was nothing other than an invitation from her.

He felt the cold sweat on his back and the quick, hard pounding of his heart, as if he was about to defuse a ticking bomb.

Accept?

Reject?

Do nothing?

He stared at his screen with his lips clenched and involuntarily clicked accept.

Fuck.

He ran his hand over his face, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but that if he removed her quickly from his friends now she'd still get a notification that he'd accepted her before and it would be weird to say the least.

He figured that she had surely only added him because he was a friend of her brother's and she had no intention of doing anything more with it.

He almost choked on his tea when he saw that she had sent him a message.

He stared at the chat bubble and clenched his eyes, clicking on it, unfolding the conversation, recognising that he wouldn't fall asleep if he didn't see what she had written to him.

He looked at her message with a fast-beating heart, reading it several times, swallowing quietly with a sense of some kind of relief that it had no subtext. It made him feel warm at the thought that, in essence, what she had written was kind and affectionate, expressing only her innocent concern and gratitude.

He figured he could write her back without any remorse that he was doing something wrong, for some reason feeling excited about talking to her.

He wrote back and sighed heavily, recognising that his reply was terribly dry and distant, but then thought that perhaps it was better. He twisted restlessly in his seat looking expectantly at his screen when he saw that after a moment she had displayed his message.

He involuntarily smiled reading it and thought she was sweet.

Over the next few days, he involuntarily returned to that brief exchange of words, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to somehow strike up a conversation with her again, although he didn't know how to do so.

"What are you thinking about, buddy?" Robert asked him with amusement, slapping him on the back with a friendly, masculine hand gesture; he swallowed loudly, pulled out of his reverie, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Nothing."

One of his clients had expressed a desire to meet again after their last session, wanting a more intense experience this time. Looking at her message, he ran his hand over his face, for some reason feeling doubts surging into his mind, though he didn't know what they stemmed from.

What would she think of him if she found out?

During the meeting with his client he had given her everything she wanted, but there had been no intimacy with penetration between them and he had satisfied her only with his hand.

He felt for some reason distanced from what he was doing, as if his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He imagined that if it had been her lying in front of him he would have done it differently, that he would have brought her to the edge of despair, but he would have had more understanding and patience, he would have been tender to her.

Why?

When it was all over and the woman had left he cleaned everything, threw the old bedding in the washing machine and put on the fresh one, so that it would be ready when he returned there.

He left and locked the flat, then ran down the staircase and headed for the car park across the street.

"Aemond!" He heard a happy, girlish, warm voice, her voice; he turned over his shoulder, terrified, for some unexplained reason certain that she had caught him in the act, even though they were standing in the middle of the street.

She jumped off her bike halfway down the road, grabbed the handlebars and ran over to him, a shopping bag in her basket, a cute fabric clasp backpack on her shoulders.

She was dressed in dark, long high-waisted trousers, pleasantly emphasising her waist and a short-sleeved T-shirt, her hair tied up in a braid that was partly blown by the wind.

She stood in front of him smiling broadly, in the light of the sun her face seemed even more gentle and soft to him, although she appeared to him to be nothing more than a figment of his imagination, so he merely stood and looked at her with his mouth slightly parted.

"Where are you going?" She asked lightly, her eyes shining with an innocent, childlike curiosity from which he felt a tightening in his throat; he thought she literally beamed with a kind of warmth from which his whole body shuddered.

He licked his lower lip quickly, swallowing loudly as he tried to get any meaningful sentence out.

"I'm just getting home." He said in a low, cool, distant voice, having no idea why he sounded that way − he had the feeling that his whole body was somehow trying to prevent what was just happening to him. She blinked, cocking her head as if she was expecting the rest of his statement, though he wasn't planning one.

"I…I had my business to take care of. And you?" He changed the subject quickly wanting to distract her from himself − she smiled even wider, shifting from foot to foot.

He noticed the outline of her breasts under her T-shirt proving she had no bra underneath and looked away, horrified and aroused by this discovery.

Fuck.

If she was his, he'd show her what he thought of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut wondering what he was even thinking about when the last thing he was looking for was a relationship.

"I'm just going to a lecture by my favourite professor in the history of philosophy. Want to join me? Entry is free!" She said clearly excited by her own idea and proposal, and he swallowed loudly, looking at her in disbelief, analysing quickly what she had said, whether he should do it.

He had no commitments, his whole evening was free.

He hummed under his breath, putting his hands in the pockets of his black trousers.

"How far is it from here?" He asked hesitantly, and she waved her hand.

"The lecture will be held at the Community Centre, two streets away. Five minutes' walk."

He looked at her, at her pretty, overjoyed face, and gave in.

"Why not."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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fadingdaggerr · 7 months

Note

Can you make a fic based on my two fav melissa schementti fantasies

melissa calling reader by pet names and making them completely flustered x melissa making reader jealous on purpose

basically all this happens before they date/confess

and when melissa has had enough of reader not making any moves and hiding from her, melissa takes charge and ends up making out w reader.

i know this is a little difficult to write but tysm i really love ur fics 😭🫶🫶

wishful thinking

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings/includes: ridiculously clueless!r and a not clueless mel, gary but only for plot purposes, making out

translations: gioia (joy/happiness), tesoro (darling/treasure), gavone (pig/slob)

note: i’m so sorry i haven’t been active. i’ve been dealing with a lot the last few months and haven’t had even a second to breathe. better note at the end <3

Melissa would never admit to anyone how much she liked the effect she had on you. She loved to watch your head duck down nervously when she complimented you or guided you along with a hand on your lower back. Every single time she left the light tremor of your body, but not once did she mention it. You were glad she couldn’t feel your heartbeat the moment her attention was on you.

—

The first time she noticed it changed her entire perspective on you.

Melissa wasn’t the kind to talk to the new hires, the turnover rates at Abbott were laughable and they never stayed more than a couple of months. But after a few months, she started to pay attention. Over time, she got to see just how much you really cared for the kids. She had stopped by to ask if you had an extra purple whiteboard marker, but she was met with the sight of you kneeling in front of one of your students, big, sad tears in her eyes. She could just barely hear the mutterings of I know it hurts sweetie and the one that made a little smile cross her lips, of course I have shark band-aids, what am i? A chump? She sees you start to stand to grab the bandage and decides to move now before she gets caught staring.

Right as she steps close to you, you rise and spin around. Your action staggers as you notice her form too late, and nearly falling as you try to avoid running into her, nearly. Strong hands grasp your upper arms, saving you from landing flat on your ass.

Your head tilts up to face her, finally registering that it was Melissa. It takes you a second to breathe before you let out a little, “thank you.”

“Of course, hon. My fault anyways,” she says with a small smile. There’s an almost too long pause before she realizes her hands are still on your arms, dropping them immediately to fold them across her chest. You’re almost in a daze just looking at her, but you have to keep up appearances.

“Did you need something?” You say with a soft smile. Melissa noticed how your eyes never left hers for a second after she called you hon, she also thinks that you’d never looked her in the eyes before then. It had never gone unnoticed that you always looked at her bangs or the frame of her glasses whenever you’d spoken before.

Interesting... Melissa thinks to herself.

—

And then Melissa began to see a pattern.

You’d given her the extra dollar she needed for her iced tea, four quarters stacked tails-up in front of her. She didn’t ask anyone, only sighed when she checked her purse.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Melissa said without really thinking.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before you catch yourself, accompanied by a quick inhale. Licking your lips and averting your eyes from her, you quietly say, “yeah. of course, anytime.”

Barbara must notice Melissa’s intrigue suddenly and speaks up, “dear, why don’t you come sit with us? I don’t think we’ve gotten a chance to know each other just yet.”

This marked the start of yours and Melissa’s friendship.

—

“You got plans Saturday?” Melissa says as she pours a cup of coffee into her Tucci mug.

You look up from your phone and take a breath in, “I have lunch with my cousin at noon, but I’m free later on. Why, what do you have planned?”

“That flea market’s coming back around, the one with the good antiques and the petting zoo,” you almost speak but she cuts you off, “oh, and that apple cider you liked.”

You smile at her remembering that detail before responding, “yeah, that sounds perfect. I can text you when I leave the diner.” Your voice thankfully doesn’t seem to give away how nervous you were trying not to seem. You take a sip from your mug to hide yourself for a moment.

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, babe,” she says through a sip of her own coffee. She stays just long enough to watch you nearly choke on your tea, and then slips out to walk to her classroom with a satisfied smirk on her face.

—

At the development week meeting, she turned to see you looking around for a place to sit. When you miss her wave to get your attention, she decides to yell your name across the gymnasium to get you to look in her direction. Your head whips her way, a grateful smile on your face when you see her waving you over. She decidedly loves the shy smile that was reserved for only her.

Stepping over nurse Makiah to get to the free seat, you finally plop down next to the redhead. Something possesses Melissa and her arm moves on its own to rest across the back of your seat, hand resting on your arm. She feels you stiffen for a moment, almost thinking she’d overstep, but you relax into her touch.

“You didn’t have to save me a seat. These are prime real estate to bleacher-leaners,” you mumble to her as one of the eighth grade teachers goes on about something that wasn’t as important as her fingers tracing little patterns over your shirt.

Melissa chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. She leans in to answer, “but then I wouldn’t have you sitting here, tesoro.” Your eyes go to your lap as you fail to hide the smile from her words, making the redhead’s heart rate pick up.

“You’re too nice to me, Schemmenti,” you say as you lift your head, with what little courage you have, to look at her and smile, leaning into her for a second.

—

Then an idea struck Melissa

Tuesday was vending machine restock day. Tuesday was your new least favorite day of the week. Totally unrelated.

Gary, the vending machine guy, had started a habit of flirting with Melissa. He started with giving her a free iced tea straight from the truck, and then chatting, then complimenting, and then just straight up checking her out with no shame. Every time he entered the room, your voice died in your throat, and your eyes stayed trained on him with a special kind of hatred. You were at least thankful Melissa hadn’t noticed the rage you felt when he had a conversation with her breasts. Melissa, in fact, did notice.

She watched how you stared daggers into his back as he spoke to her, completely unaware of her attention flicking to you every now and then. Your fork angrily stabbed at the lunch she’d brought you, not a single bite being taken since the vendor walked in the door. The more forward Gary got, the quieter and angrier you became. Once he left and Melissa’s focus went back to you entirely, as it always was, your shoulders relaxed and the assault on the pasta stopped.

Melissa decides she has a theory to test. She plays into Gary’s flirting some more, enough that the man is clearly picking up on it, and your hand stills. By the third week, Barbara is begging her to go on a date with the man.

“Girl, he likes you. You should give it a shot, he’s a nice man. Handsome too,” Barbara says with enthusiasm. Your eyes roll as you look at your phone, trying to tune out this conversation. Your resolve cracks a little when Ava mumbles that’s generous in response to Barbara’s comment, a tiny chuckle espacing you.

The kindergarten teacher nudges your hand, “don’t you think she should go for it?”

You struggle with trying to not just flat out say no so instead you settle with, “yeah. Gary seems really nice.” The thin smile on your face is unconvincing to both women, and it’s easy to read on both their faces. You quickly grab your stuff and stand, “I’m gonna head back to my room and pass out their math quizzes. I’ll see you later.”

Once the door closes behind you, Barbara looks at Melissa, “what was that?”

Melissa just shrugs, feigning obliviousness.

When Gary finally gets the nerve to ask her out, she laughs and agrees. You think the gods above must have it out for you, not letting you escape any interaction between the two. The fork in your hand just stabs harder at the food in the tupperware. After watching with a tinge of regret, Melissa finally speaks up.

“You alright over there, gioia?” She asks, her voice filled with real concern. You look at her for a moment, considering what to say, but settle with a nod. When your gaze drops again, you miss her lips dipping into a small frown.

—

Monday morning after the big date, you realize that being in the lounge was a mistake. You should have known to go straight to your classroom, but the need to see Melissa overrode your actions.

As you walked in, everyone was facing Melissa and asking her about every little detail of the date. Where’d they go? Was the food good? Did he offer to pay it all or ask to split the bill? What did she wear? She gives them all they want to hear, and only Ava asks what you didn’t want to know.

“Cut the bull. Did you let him hit or not?”

A chorus of AVA! goes around the room.

The redhead just sighs before answering, “why did you say it like that? And no, I did not ‘let him hit,’ Ava.” You hate that some tension leaves your shoulders after that. The rest of the time is spent with your eyes trained at the floor and ringing in your ears.

Melissa regrets her idea a lot more when she stops seeing your smile altogether and your eyes stop meeting hers.

—

She finally snaps.

Janine had planned to make a whole outing for the Abbott crew, inviting everyone out to a new arcade-bar that Erica had told her about. She’d told Melissa that she should invite Gary, saying that everyone wanted to meet him in a social setting and not just in the ten minutes he was in the school every Tuesday. Inviting Gary couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

Gary’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time and all eight of her texts were unanswered. He said he would come, that he wanted to meet everyone for real, but now he was a no show. Melissa felt like a teenager again, getting stood up by her date to homecoming while she waited outside for him. She turned to walk back in, almost running into you as you were coming to check on her.

“Everything alright?” You ask, knowing the answer already since she can’t hide her emotions well when she’s upset.

She huffs a laugh, “peachy. Jackass said he would be here almost an hour ago and won’t return my calls or anything.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” You ask jokingly, but there’s a certain hope she’ll say yes that sits in your chest. Your heart almost can’t handle it when she smiles at your words, arm looping with yours as she drags you to the pinball machines.

You’d probably lost a student-loan payment in quarters by the time either of you had even won a single game you played. In the course of two hours, both of you had only managed to get a collective hundred tickets that could maybe win you each an eraser. Melissa pretends to not notice you cheating in the driving games, and you pretend not to notice her taking quarters from your cup.

You watch an equally competitive Ava and Melissa play a scary-good match of air hockey, each of them likely to have bruises on their knuckles by the end of the night from how hard they played. Each time she scored, the redhead’s eyes moved to you for approval, and each time she’s met with a little applause and smile from you.

“Wasn’t your man supposed to be here? Or were the Kit-Kats not behaving?” Ava says when they finally take a break from the game to take a drink.

Melissa just shrugs, “he hasn’t answered anything. If the gavone decides to say anything, then he’ll be getting an earful, or a bat to the head. Depends on what he says.”

“Do you even like this idiot?” Ava asks incredulously, saying exactly what you’d been thinking for weeks since they’d had their first date.

Melissa shrugs, “he’s alright. The first date was nice, but the rest have just been him trying to get in my pants.”

“Well,” Ava’s brows bounced a couple times, “are you gonna let him in or not?”

You check out entirely before listening to Melissa’s answer, not even caring how suddenly you left the conversation, just letting your legs carry you until you could finally breathe. You find yourself back with the old pinball machines that no one but you and Melissa had played. Only a few seconds of silence manages to pass before you hear the muffled stomp of boots on carpet, stopping right behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Melissa asks with your back facing her.

You should have known it was her that would follow you. Part of you wanted to lie and say that the drinks made you feel sick, but you both knew that they were too watered down to even intoxicate a toddler. The other part of you just wanted to scream about how it should be you on those dates with her, driving her home and walking her to the door. You turned to meet her eyes and any courage you had left, feeling like putty when she was so focused on you and you alone. Even though you know what her response will be, you just say, “it was nothing. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she says, stepping closer, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Just... I dunno, just leaving. You can be in the same room as me and it feels like you’re miles away.”

Your gaze drops to your feet, suddenly feeling insecure now that you know she’s noticed your behavior. You put all your energy into stabling your voice and keeping your lips from quivering at the thought of upsetting her. All you can muster in a tiny voice is, “I’m sorry.”

Melissa surprises you by pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you, “is this about Gary?” Your heart stops at her words, knowing you’d been found out. The lack of answer and the way your body stiffens tells Melissa everything she needs to know, what she already knew.

Melissa knows that you’ll likely try to explain away anything the second she loosens her hold on you, that you’ll run and she’ll never get this close ever again. So she does the only thing that she can think of at this moment.

As she pulls away, Melissa’s hands cup your face, pulling you into her lips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel her lips press against yours, soft and eager. After a moment, she realizes you’re not kissing her back, her heart cracking as she pulls away from you, ready to run. Her hands drop from your face, eyes blinking rapidly as doubt clouds her mind. Your mind catches up, realizing what had just happened. Melissa begins to turn to leave, but is stopped by your hand in hers. You tug her back to you, cupping her face and leaning forward to finally kiss her back.

She tasted like lipstick and watery vodka, her hands were warm against your wrists where they held tightly. Your mind was in hyperdrive as you took in her lips and her touch, hardly noticing her moving you until your hips met the game behind you. Melissa’s lips parted, her tongue brushing across your bottom lip to ask for entry. You were quick to allow her in, letting her dominate your lips as her hands dropped to grab at your waist. The taste of her lips and tongue became quickly addictive, the feeling even more so. Your hands migrate from her face to her hair, pulling her even closer to you as the kiss turns sloppy from the sheer desperation radiating from both of you.

Melissa’s hands grab at your hips harder as you tug at copper strands, cold fingers creeping under your shirt to rest against warm skin. The force of her body leaning further into you boggles the machine you’re pressed against making a loud buzzer sound and the automated voice yell just a quarter to play! The sudden noises make you both jump, breaking the kiss. Your eyes meet and you both stifle a laugh at the whole thing. Her lips immediately gravitate back to yours, this time softer. The smile you feel against your lips brings your own out, breaking the kiss again. You drop your head against her shoulder, basking in her presence and her hands on your skin.

“You knew,” is all you say, voice muffled against her shirt.

She smiles and rests her head against yours, “I did.”

“How long?”

“The whole time, give or take,” she’s a little surprised when your head pops up, almost smacking her chin.

Your eyes stare straight into hers, “and you said nothing?”

“You didn’t say shit either, don’t even start,” she says with a laugh, no malice hiding in her voice. Her only response is a grumble that sounds something like touché.

There’s so much love behind your eyes, it chokes her up. The way your eyes never left hers, something she missed in the last month, made her feel like the most precious stone. She looks at you for a moment longer before quietly asking, “can I kiss you again?”

The smallest smile crosses your lips as you answer in an equally quiet tone, “you can kiss me whenever you want, Schemmenti.”

feedback appreciated as always <3

note: again i’m sorry for not being active. i started school again and have been working full time while also being a full time student. i also had a death in the family that hit me very hard mentally and i had to take a step back as to not end up in the hospital. i’m going to try to be more active and take time to write more. thank u for being so patient. ilyvm

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #lgbtq #lgbtq fanfiction

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jade-len · 4 months

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so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

#greatest prank ive ever donee i think #manipulation 100 fr #absolute tomfoolery #am i a bad friend for this? perhaps. is it hilarious? definitely.#this is truly the most moment of all time #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #luo bingmei #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

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theprettynosferatu · 8 months

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CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"

“All I’m saying is…”

“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.

“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.

“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”

“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”

“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”

“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”

“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”

“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”

“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”

“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”

“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”

“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”

“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”

The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced.

They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit.

Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.

Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.

“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”

“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.

“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.

“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”

“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”

“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.

“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.

“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.

Fine. Game on.

“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”

“Yup!”, said Linda

“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.

He took a deep breath.

“Linda: rainbow socks…”

She replied in an instant.

“Are for sucking cocks!”

Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch.

And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever.

“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”

He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.

Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.

Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.

Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.

He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.

“Linda… do you love Ava?”

The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.

“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.

“Tell her”

Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.

“I love you…”

“But you have more to say, don’t you?”

“I… hmph… I…”

“Tell her”

“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”

“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”

“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.

Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.

“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”

“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.

He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.

She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed.

No man could resist such a sight.

In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.

He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.

“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!

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weebsinstash · 4 months

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the brand new Angel Dust song that just came out has me thinking how absolutely fucked a Reader who is a dancer/musician/singer/producer would be with a yandere Valentino because it really does seem like, coming off of just the general materials and vibes I'm getting, that Valentino also turns his pornstars into sort of miniature celebrities, dare I say, idols even, which would maybe inherently fit the theme of Hazbin Hotel being a musical sort of show at heart. People break out into song, Asmodeus runs a club where music is performed, Angel sings as he strips, Alastor just... as is like just his entire aesthetic and musical number was 🤌, sing about being horny, sing about being addicted, sing about being sad, I dunno there's just an inherent love of music in all of it

I've never really posted about it in detail but I've thought of the ever so elusive MALE READER x Valentino (or transdude/intersex Reader because like, I guess i would, have to, accurately research what having a dick would feel like for smut of that and, I don't know, it's my turn on the gender power fantasy and I say--)

Male Reader who just keeps to himself and waits on Val's table "because you're too stiff, you'll scare off other customers" and one night the Overlord just catches you seemingly alone sweeping floors/cleaning while dancing/singing something, that whole trope where you just don't see him or have your eyes closed and practically do a full musical number until you notice him, just like seating himself in a chair, smoking a cigar, looking at you all smug and horny and thinking of all the different things he could use you (and your holes) for

Absolutely does he exploit weakness and if you don't have a prior addiction, he'll get you one. He'll shotgun something straight into your mouth, mix something into your weed, put a pill in your drink, nudge you towards that alcohol you're trying to stay away from, he'll do it all. He'll get you so fucked up your entire body is buzzing and you're stumbling and you can barely even move and that's when he pounces on you, doing whatever he wants, looking at whatever he wants, touching wherever he wants, and you might not even remember it afterwards and you'll only find out when he shoves his phone full of pictures in your face to mock you

You can't stay closeted/hiding an interest for men around this creep because he'd be secretly feeding you like ecstacy or something that loosens your lips and has you blabbing all your secrets and feelings to him in a horny fucked up haze. The blackmail potential with this dude is IMMENSE. He'd get you fucked up and delirious and film a cell phone shot of you taking his dick and threaten to show it to everyone he wants to unless you do whatever he says (and he's already showing it to people behind your back anyways, but, it's to be gross and coo over how cute and sexy you look taking his loads, stuff like that)

Valentino would take that passion and talent for music that you have and do something gross with it. Oh you're an actor, huh? Good, good, so your reaction will be experienced and authentic when he asks you to bring him a coffee on set and suddenly you're being literally dog-piled on by like 5 ripped hung hellhounds while cameras are rolling :) he thinks he might have an interest in your body, oh, suddenly there's a mandatory employee calendar photoshoot where you he to wear a thong or something skimpy and he can see everything but your genitals (and can tell whatever the situation down there is if you were trying to hide it. Fat ass? Exposed. Secretly a grower/hung? Exposed.)

At the end of the day you're his bottom bitch no matter how big or tough or maybe not even gay you are, because he even has lesbians cuddle up to him for Hot Girl Clout and that shit was on his Instagram. Everything's about him having pretty trophies and nice things and pampering himself while treating others like shit. Yeah, you'll be his little caged pet he obsesses over, but you'll be a very decorated, very well-fed, very financially spoiled little caged pet. If you're gonna get regularly railed by some nasty huge egotistical demon, it might as well come with some sweet perks like a deep bank account and all the luxuries his self-absorbed ass can afford, right?

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere stuff #valentino x reader #sinprompts

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sunderwight · 4 months

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Thinking about a situation where SQQ gets a look at Luo Binghe's package (post-Abyss but pre-Maigu Ridge, or in an AU where Maigu Ridge doesn't happen) through like, the outline of his pants or whatever (maybe Binghe took a wardrobe tip from Jareth of Labyrinth), and then got to thinking about how huge Luo Binghe's meat is, like in an actually non-sexual way this time just his brain gets onto a tangent about a bunch of scenes from PIDW where the descriptions varied wildly, and then he starts wondering about exactly what size it is, because to go by the novel's descriptions it's either bigger than average but not insane or there's another arm stuffed into that codpiece somehow. Surely it's closer to the former than the latter? SQQ doesn't have any other evidence that physical limitations in this world are that different from his own world, but then again, would it come up in any of his conversations if women in this world have sufficiently cavernous vaginas for damn near every virgin Bingge met to accommodate a dick that big? Does it at least make childbirth easier? He hasn't exactly polled anyone on it, so it could be the case. But what about the back door, so to speak? There were a few sex scenes that went in that direction, forbidden tunnel of love type stuff and it was all incredibly bad and cheesy, but of course, SQQ actually has a "back door" too and surely he would notice if it was possible to stick his own arm up it. Although it's also not as if he's tried, and as a peak lord with a fantasy metabolism he doesn't actually have to take a shit either, his body processes everything extremely efficiently and it's been years since... well anyway it's not like he's had occasion to investigate it much, now that he's thinking about it. Maybe he can? Not that this is relevant information to anything though and given the inconsistencies the probable limitations of the numerous people PIDW Binghe had sex with, his package, though prodigious, is probably not actually that big of a weapon. How could he even comfortably keep it contained otherwise...? Etc etc etc.

Meanwhile the entire time he's having this internal spiel, he's just... staring. At Luo Binghe's dick. Really blatantly. It doesn't even occur to him that he's doing something incriminating about his interests or possible attraction precisely because he's not, for once, getting flustered about it (much) but is in fact genuinely vexed by the mystery. This is not so much a case of imagining Luo Binghe's dick as wondering about fantasy physiology. So he's lost track of where his gaze has wandered.

The longer it goes on for though the more flustered Luo Binghe gets though. Like, should he say something? Is this a prelude to Shizun making a move? Is there... something wrong with it? Why is he staring so intently? Is Shizun aware that he has just been looking straight at Luo Binghe's dick for almost ten minutes now...? He should definitely say something, right? Maybe this is his chance! Or maybe he should wait and see what Shizun does next? Should he try a line? Something suave? Ask if he wants to see it! Shizun can absolutely see Binghe's dick if he wants to! No wait, but what if Shizun is planning on making a move and he ruins it by being impatient? He should wait and see where this is going.

...How long is it going to take, though...?

Luo Binghe's brain frazzles between trying to decide if he should make a move or prepare to be receptive towards one, or maybe check and make sure his dick hasn't turned into tentacle or something without him noticing, while Shen Qingqiu slooowly (very slowly) begins to realize that yes, he has been staring at Luo Binghe's dick while lost in thought for such a long time that now it's weird. It's definitely weird. He should look away now, at once, except now if he stops staring at Binghe's dick it's going to end whatever stalemate this is and he's probably going to have to explain why he was ogling it in the first place, and he definitely cannot explain anything, so he just keeps staring while furiously trying to think of a non-gay explanation for why he's now glaring intensely at Luo Binghe's crotch.

...He can't think of anything. Oh god. This is a disaster. Luo Binghe is going to kill him for being a perve!

(Good luck, Binghe.)

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #long post #I imagine this goes on for so long that they actually get interrupted before either one of them breaks the tension #sqq: oh thank god hopefully binghe will just forget about this whole thing haha it never happened it definitely never happened #lbh: is definitely not going to forget about this #is in fact going to fixate on it forever now thanks #is already trying to figure out how to ask what sqq thinks of his dick #is going to keep wearing the david bowie pants until it happens again for sure #sqq being conscious of what happened is now NOT looking in that direction at all ever again nope #the farce continues

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psychelis-new · 10 months

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pick a pile: "What would a tarot reader tell someone about you"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about what a tarot reader would tell someone enquiring about you especially if you were their friend, love interest, current/future/destined partner or future spouse (eg. your fs asking a tarot reader about you aka their fs).

i think songs this times should be seen as the enquiring person's thoughts mostly but ofc take as resonates anyway

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life. Inspired by @pbstarot's reading

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

A tarot reader would say that you're very abundant and a good manifestor of your life. You're "golden", a treasure for those who can really find you and see you for who you are: you tend to shy away, probably play down yourself or are a bit introverted/stay a bit on your own. You seem to be good at balancing your life though, I think your introspective nature helps you a lot especially when you deal with anxiety and tough stuff. You may suffer from difficult/transformational times pretty often but you can come out of those as a new person with new found knowledge especially about who you are and your power. This has made you a balanced person. Probably you also have two different endeavours you divide yourself into. You're passionate and hardworking. You probably have a career but you do also volunteer/help others in another way, you can be a reader yourself or be very intuitive/in tune with emotions and have a wide knowledge you like to share with others to give them support and help them out of dark periods. People find you comforting. You're healing your heart at the moment, waiting for the right person to come in but kinda be unsure if they will actually arrive (your person may be smirking at this like "ofc I'm coming, here I am" or kinda opt for a more 18+ thought... whatevs). You may also be pretty romantic and sweet, you're still trying to work through a few fears like trusting the unknown. You have a lot of love to give away, sometimes it feels like you cannot contain it so you may be even thinking about getting a pet or a plant or indeed going volunteering if you aren't yet.

song: you and me | lifehouse

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pile 2

Cheerful person, very well liked in general but also kinda oblivious at times. You don't do it on purpose ofc, it just happens that you get carried away by your emotions, lose track of what is really going on and start living in a fantasy. Maybe you're a bit lonely lately or in an isolation-period in which you're trying to understand yourself a little more. You're probably a bit picky with the people and things you like, but you're aware of that and are trying to change this. It's just that at times, when you get carried away or feel overwhelmed by your feelings and fears, it's not easy to keep calm and keep being determined/hopeful and positive and all. You're a very sunny positive person but when things go wrong, you follow them. You get discouraged, probably kinda easily too. But the moment this happens you have some people around you that can help you see things from the right perspective (or need to find them). You need to communicate your fears and emotions (that's so good). You're probably learning to trust your own guidance too, but you feel better when interacting with others, when having an external support system, be it your person or a group of friends/people you trust. You'll still probably have this need once you will find this person/group, but it won't be too much of a problem cause you're a loving person and it seems everyone loves you no matter what so don't worry too much about feeling needy or difficult, you're not any of these. Anyway, back to the actual reading: the reader at this point may tell this person you'll probably fear being seen as needy and left out so they'll know they only have to try and reassure you it's not so. They seem a very sweet caring person so it won't be a problem.

song: darkside | neoni

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pile 3

You're powerful, determined and fast-paced... I'd say impulsive tbh at least in most of the things you do. Maybe you're in a burnout or doing too many things at once or just stressing over something. At this moment your energy feels very tired, sleepy. You need to give yourself a break. Probably you're not used to gift breaks to yourself so the reader may suggest this person to take the charge when they notice you're worn out and tell you to go to sleep. You probably need someone to take care of you or teach you how to properly do that for yourself. You're not used at putting yourself first, you were taught to put others in front of you. You have a lot of energy that needs to be released... probably cause you got kinda "blocked" or "caged" by others in the past and therefore you still have loads to dissipate from your body. You need to find your own balance, the heart of the matter, both emotional and mental. You may also be overworking or stressing on something without really giving yourself a break to avoid resolving this problem. It feels like you keep postponing this confrontation with your inner self. Probably it feels too scary cause you don't know what you will find there "it's been ages...". I think there's some inner child wound that you left there and try to keep there inside. Whatever it is, you really need to find you ways to slow down so I guess this person will have to help you in this. Also in taking things slow with you or "you'll get burned". You're passionate also as a lover or friend but again you may tend to rush things and/or come to easy conclusions even when it's not good to do so. Too much overthinking, as not having enough time for others and ourselves, can sabotage our lives more than anything. You will make a decision in the close future as in to decide if to keep going this way or trying to work on what you really want. This person seems determined to help anyway or feels like they have finally understood something so they may either not know you or know you already when asking a tarot reader.

song: slow burn | kacey musgraves

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pile 4

Differently from other piles, we're starting from another pov. This person may ask how they will recognize you or meet you, but the answer lays in how you are (or will be). You'll probably choose your person first for who they are. You know what you want and you go after that without giving up too much. You're focused and are indipendent and seem pretty controlled/strong. You're also calm and know how to differentiate illusions from reality. You know how to make yourself happy and who/what can make you happy. Or at least, you're trying to learn that if you still aren't always aware. You're changing your point of view, you're turning into a more powerful being. I think you may be put in front of a choice or be tested to see if you have changed something from your past. There may be problems related to really knowing your worth and what you deserve, and to receiving love, support and appreciation and welcome that, no matter in what forms it can come. Maybe you had dealt with lot of judgement and lies in your past but this too is coming to a conclusion also thanks to the huge work you have done with yourself. You're probably on the verge of moving from this self inflicted pain towards jumping into the unknown trusting yourself and your guts, leaving what you thought you deserved for what you really deserve. You're also probably working with your inner child at the moment, and try to heal them emotionally so to remind yourself of your power and ability to manifest what you desire. Your person is already finding you very fascinating and may already love you/feel attracted to you (maybe you're their "crush").

song: love you too much | lucky daye

#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pac #pac tarot #pac reading #divination #clairs readings #psychic readings #free tarot reading #tarot reading #tarot readings #tarotcommunity #tarotblr

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