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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 9 months

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TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you��ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

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hotvintagepoll · 23 days

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Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

#eartha kitt #veronica lake #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5

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whalesforhands · 1 month

Text

what’s yours is mine (2/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

You don’t think your eyes are even able to leave, don’t think that they’re capable of ripping away from the sway of smooth silk-like noir. You notice the sharp up-curve of the nose, the flair of poise in his gaze. His features are tender, yet so sharp… It was like looking at some sort of doll.

You can see his lips part, mouthing words that you can’t seem to make out as he picks up a much smaller box, smile on his face soft with excitement, slowly curling into a laugh that you can’t hear…

And you just can’t help but think how pretty he looks.

There’s curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the uncertainty in the neutral, almost blank look on your face as you’re practically mesmerized by the sight. What sort of feeling is this? Is it normal? Are you meant to feel—

“Pah, it’s just some kid and his parents.” He practically has poison on his tongue, spitting them out with restrained irritation as he sticks his tongue out at the boy. “Bleghhhh, who even needs to look at ‘em, right?” He’s huffing a bit once he sees him disappear into the home, glad that was over and done with, hopping off the stool and chubby hand reaching for your curtain tie to draw them close.

Your eyes don’t need to see him. You have him, right? He looks to you for affirmation, for your compliance—

Only to be met with your silence, body still and eyes stuck onto the drawn curtains— The baby blue of the fabric starting to swirl your mind with perplexing images as your stare turns blank and your eyes go out of focus.

You’re not paying attention to him anymore… And that doesn’t sit quite right with your one and only friend.

He slaps a hand over your eyes, turning your sight dark and obscured and distracted. “Don’t look at him.” You can feel a slight sting from the impact, can feel how warm his hand is against your skin as you reach up to pat at him— To let you see again, please.

“Strangers are dangerous!” You know that. “Has your Mama never taught you that you shouldn’t approach kids you don’t know?!” You can hear the pouting grumbles, can hear how mad he is at the appearance of this supposedly ‘new kid’.

“Satoru…” You’re kind of confused about his behaviour, your words starting to trail off into a tone of uncertainty and slight fear. Does he not realize it?

“I’m a new kid too—“

“Y’er different!” He lets out a huff as he grabs onto your hand, tugging you towards him lightly, telling you to get off. “Don’t ask me to explain, okay!”

And you just blink at him, unintentionally hitting a nerve.

“What, ya wanna be friends with him or something?” He looks offended, a curve of his eyebrows downwards and crossed arms, feet planted themselves firmly into the tatami mats of your floor as you catch what looks suspiciously like the bristling of his hair. “Y’er not allowed to be friends with anyone from this neighbou—“

Your eyebrows furrow. “But he’s not from this neighbourhood— He just moved in, remember?”

“That’s not my point! The idea is that—“

“He’s pretty, though.” An interruption to his little spiel, eyes glancing back at the drawn curtains of your window. Does Satoru not think so too? You didn’t know people could look like that.

“Wha— Well, so am I!” Oh, so Satoru does agree. That’s enough to have you humming slightly, eyes turning into an up-curve and smiling at your friend. You’re glad he agrees. Now you both have one more similarity added to the list.

What was, unbeknownst to you, not similar right now, was his seething irritation as he watches you think about his claim.

“Mm…” Your face grows oddly serious as you slowly step off the stool, your small feet shuffling forwards to better stare at your blue-eyed friend. Your face is close, your toes on the edge as you really lean in to get a closer look, to really look him in the eye now that it’s too dark without the sunlight shining in.

You’ve never given much thought to Satoru’s looks beyond the surface level of ‘cute’.

Your scrutinization of his face leaves him quiet, leaves him to glare and pout back at you despite the close proximity. Like he was imploring you to look all you want, didn’t mind that you were coming this close to inspect the features of his face.

So you take your time to think, to ponder… To really have time to learn about his every characteristic.

You like the way his cheeks always looked full and red, always soft looking and squishy under your touch, liked the way his nose curved upwards at just that certain point and the cute scrunches he always does.

You liked his eyes, the sparkling blue akin to the shimmering ponds reflected by a sunny day, always glittering and shiny when they smiled at you. You liked how his hair, despite the sharp tips and messy styling— Looked purposeful and proper in a cute, rugged way. It suits him.

Every trait, suits him perfectly. You don’t know anybody else who would be able to pull off his looks the way he does, pull off that funny, stuck-up attitude he has… Because it wouldn’t be the same if it wasn’t him.

Maybe you just have an odd sense for beauty, or have an eye set on looking for something else. You think that maybe some people might find him to be, while some not at all. But— That’s not the point now, is it? What’s important now is what you think. You could compare him to many pretty things in the world, the skies for his eyes, the clouds for his hair— It’s not as simple as you think it is.

(And… Which word is better anyway? You can’t exactly ask Mama right now.)

So you close your eyes. What would he be to you if you can’t see him anymore? If you one day lose your sight, lose your only way of seeing the world, how would you remember him?

You think you would remember the way he smells like fabric cleaner, his soft clothing always having the same scent of refreshing chill, of vibrant sun and summer breezes.

You think you would remember how much you like him, how much you love him for being your first friend. A memory that you vow to hold clear in your head no matter how much time passes. You want to keep being his friend, until you’re clapping at his wedding, until you grow old and wrinkly and ugly, until you’re sleeping away in one of those boxes—

You have your answer.

You smile, leaning back so that the balls of your feet are back on solid ground, away from the airiness and lightheaded feel. The best compliment you can give him, the one you think suits him best.

“No.” Your eyes reflect too much light, happy joy and too much satisfaction for him to truly believe you, anticipation drying his lips as he awaits your continuation.

“You’re cute, Satoru. Not pretty.” And he believes you now, as much of the moment you had ruined for him as his pout and staunch attitude grow ever bigger.

“What?!”

Oh. You blink at him, expression taking on another look of blank neutrality and confusion. You thought you had said it pretty loudly. “I said,” You need to take another breath in, trying to project your voice ever louder than before. “You’re cute, Satoru. Not pretty—“

“I heard you the first time!” He’s still in disbelief, pushing up against your face with his own pouting one, getting all up in your face to glare at you.

Was he not satisfied with that answer? You say he’s cute, because he is. The cutest in the— You should apologise if he’s this upset.

“Sorr—“

“Don’t apologise!” He’s grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth as you just… Let him do it.

“Sorry—“ A glare. You’ll be quiet now… Or do you?

“I would still like you best no matter what, Satoru.”

(“Is that a promise?”)

——

“That sign,” A chubby, almost dainty looking finger points at it. “Ya see? It says it’s Gojo property. Means it’s mine.” His feet are kicking up sand, the creaks of the metal filling your ears as you let yourself tune into his words.

You’d have to remember how to recognize them later.

“Some letters and stuff were also sent out to the neighbourhood to let ‘em know their snotty kids aren’t allowed here.” He looks proud, smug. Bragging away at the fact that this was his playground as he continues to swing himself back and forth, with you sat right next to him on the other seat.

You stare off into the sky, noticing that the clouds looked fluffier, whiter today. More reminiscent of Satoru’s hair, more alike the puff up of his head when he wakes up from a nap beside you.

“And ‘cause ya can’t read yet, you ended up trespassing.”

Signs can’t exactly stop anyone if they can’t read, can they? Or is it your fault you didn’t learn more words?

“Sor— I’ll ask Mama to make more cookies.” You’re trying to apologize less. It’s tough, but you’re making an effort.

“Ya better!” And it goes silent after. It’s not uncomfortable, not one bit. You’ve never really been the type to enjoy talking too much, anyway. You like the silence, like it when it’s just you both, the swings, and the setting sun in the sky. You notice how you can see how the orange starts to glow against your skin, how the pinks in the sky look much lovelier than usual.

You like days like these.

“Oh right.” The creaks still all too suddenly. “I got something for you.” You can see him jump off the swing, letting out a hoot as he kicks sand up and around where he landed, running over to his Digimon backpack to pull out something.

(You think you remember the name of the animal on his bag that he taught you. Agu…Mon? Or something like that.)

You blink maybe 3 times before you’re unceremoniously fed something.

“Now eat!” A plastic spoon is shoved into your mouth before you can even say anything in response— Sweet, creamy and all too soft— Refreshingly cold and melt in your mouth. You can feel your heart turn fuzzy and melty on immediate contact, feel the sugary caramel swoon you into quiet bliss.

“Fufu,” You can practically smell the smirk in his words. “You only ever eat those cheap 3-pack puddings, right?” His smile… Looks too tight. Too forced, even. You’ve never seen him smile like this before.

“Nobody else in this place would ever be able to buy stuff like this regularly.” And he’s harrumphing, stuffing a scoop of the pudding into his own mouth in triumph and pride, a testament to the riches he can access.

You think he’s right. These cream-filled pudding cups are definitely the first you’ve seen of them—

“So you should only be my friend.” He stops chewing, stops shovelling pudding into both of yours and his mouths the moment he says that, eyes determinedly flicking from the ground up to meet yours. “You don’t need anyone else, okay?”

You think you can feel something bitter in his tone, something clinging on hyperventilating anxiousness and all-too practiced poise. It feels like he’s trying to say something he’s too embarrassed to admit, too scared to say.

If I keep buying you delicious things you’ll stay, right?

You have to remember to blink to bring yourself back into reality, your cheeks still stuffed to its capacity with caramel pudding, have to pinch your skin to really realize what he just said to you. What? Just what kinda relationship depends only on giving things to keep people as friends?

You think that’s dumb.

“But, Swatoru… Iw’m not being your friwend jwust cause—“ You’re hurrying to swallow your food, covering your mouth just to be polite like Mama taught you as your eyes catch the way his hands were starting to stiffen. “Just because you give me stuff.”

He waits for you to finish for once, all narrowed eyes, furrowed eyebrows and inquiring gaze.

“I’m your friend ‘cause I like you.” And you’re smiling, tapping at your mouth to feel the sweet stickiness left behind, humming slightly as your head tilts downwards when you feel up your pockets— To realize it’s not there.

(You forgot to bring the handkerchief Mama always makes you tout around. You now realize… How right she really is about its usefulness. You won’t doubt her ever again.)

“Satoru? Do ya have a hanky I can have?”

What you haven’t noticed was that your words have him freezing up, his face turning into an absolute mess of embarrassed cherry red, his body reeling away from you.

“Y-you’re stupid.” It’s all he can muster as his lips start to tremble, his words sounding like he was shivering. “And dumb!”

And all you remember is how hurriedly he had poured every last bit of remaining pudding into his mouth in retaliation.

(“Ah… I wanted more, Satoru.” You have a frown on your face, eyes showing a blank, slightly disappointed show. He uses your hanky to wipe his mouth, rubbing the cloth against his lips as he listens to you. “It was really good…”

He does feel kind of bad now.

“…sorry.” And it’s cute, the way his eyes have shifted to the side and the tips of his ears burning red, whispered apology under his breath that the wind whistled into your ears.

He won’t admit it.)

——

“Young Master Gojo, you will have the opportunity to talk to (name)-sama again soon. Master expects you to be home for the gathering as soon as possible.”

“You can’t approach him! Remember that!” The door of the sleek, black limousine shuts; fully obscuring your view of your friend as the servant lady— Kimiko-san, as you’ve learned her name to be, bows before you in a curt goodbye.

“Thank you for keeping the young master company today as well, (name)-sama.”

They dropped you off home.

The vroom of the engine picks up as you keep waving at the vehicle, your goodbye not being unseen as a certain milk-haired individual rushed towards the window.

You see his face pressed up against the glass, squishing his full cheeks to the surface as he points at you— And waves his pinky about.

A reminder, if you will. And you do the same in response.

“Sweetie,” Mama pats your head from behind, a sign to usher you inside now that the sun was on the verge of disappearing, the sky blanketed in dark blues and the street lamps flickering to life.

“The new neighbours moved in today.” There’s the clatter of some of the groceries she had just bought onto the table, a carton of milk, half a head of lettuce, carrots, potatoes— Tonight’s dinner is curry.

“I saw them.” You’re crawling up onto the wooden dining chair, unloading the reusable grocery bag as you hear her bring out the pot. “They have a pretty kid.”

“Do they?” You can hear the smile, the chuckle in her tone as she acknowledges you, the shuffle and crinkle of plastic in her hands as she starts to prepare dinner. “Then I hope they’re nice people.”

“Me too.” Even if you’re not allowed to approach them, you carefully descend from the chair that was just too tall for you to easily get off of, the considerably lighter items; a chocolate bar and a sponge huddled in your hands, your feet on the way to the fridge before—

You notice a sweet tartness in the air— Wafting to your nose as you take an inhale in. Oh, Mama smells nice today. Not— Artificial nice, but normal, nice. She smells like honey and vanilla, light and easy on your nose.

“You smell nice, Mama.” You’ve never been one to voice this out but… It seems that you’re just in a talkative mood today. In a mood to share your happiness. Just because.

The decisive chopping of potatoes and carrots stiffen, yet the boiling of water continues. “…is that so, sweetheart?” Her hands tensing just that little bit more as she continues on. The clacks against the wooden chopping board grow less erratic… Slow, uncertain.

Worried.

“Mhm. Didya stop by the bakery just now?” She really, really smells good. And you can see her visibly relax at that, her shoulders slumping as she lets out… A quiet sigh of relief?

(Did you say something bad?)

“I figured you would like some bread for tomorrow.” She’s back to normal. “Eating cereal all the time is bad for you, so I bought you some bread and cheese.”

“Yay! Thank you, Mama!”

Dinner passed by too quickly, too much so that you find yourself laying upon the tatami mats of your bedroom in a blink of an eye, futon yet to be rolled out, the sound of Mama preparing the bath downstairs and your tummy full of warm curry as you sigh— Life is good.

Too good, in fact. You’re starting to get suspicious— Starting with those new neighbours you just got today. You’re curious, you really are.

The window opposite to yours— That would be the rooms of one of them right? You remember a gait of confidence from his Mama, his own Papa not lagging in that aspect either. So… Which one would have that room? Does he sleep by himself? That would be so brave of him.

(Even you struggle to sleep alone… By yourself… In a dark room… You feel a shiver down your spine just thinking about it.)

Your curtains are still drawn, the room that you shared with Mama lit only by your dim ceiling light. She says she’s gonna replace the bulb soon, if you remember correctly.

So… It— Would be fine, right? You’re not approaching or interacting with him. If they were to spot you they won’t have a clear view due to the light. So technically, this counts as safe, no? Innocuous, even. You just want to see who occupies that vey room— That was directly opposite of your own.

Curiosity kills cats, or something like that. But you aren’t a cat, so it obviously doesn’t apply to you. You won’t die.

So you take the chance, grabbing hold of the fabric… Should you really be doing this? You’re unsure, uncertain. And it makes you really, really nervous. It feels like the scratchy material of your curtains were pricking into your skin as you ball up the fabric, taking a gulp… Just one peek. One is enough.

So you steel yourself, swallowing your fear and powering through your nerves. It’s just a quick peek, one glance— Get it over and done with already!

Your eyes catch bright light, the colour temperature warm and inviting. Cozy. You see curtains that were drawn open, but not just any fabric— The fancy type, with pretty lace and a neat ribbon. Pretty…

But that wasn’t the main focus.

What was, was the little boy that had already been staring at your curious little self, purple eyes widened in surprise and mouth already turning into a smile when he catches sight of you.

“Ah! You really did peek out!”

You’ve been noticed.

You squeak, ducking down and away from the window immediately. Oh no. Oh no no no no. This was not the plan at all. Not how you thought this would go! You’re panicking, using the curtains to hide your face away. Just pretend you’re not here, that you were just a figment of his imaginati—

“Oh—“ You can hear him slap a hand over his mouth. “Sorry for yelling.” His words come out hushed, quietened now.

“Did I scare you?”

You have a promise to keep. You’re not about to break it to have a conversation with a window stranger, no matter how pretty he is. At least now, you know your windows are close enough to be able to communicate. If that were any useful information at all.

“That was rude of me, wasn’t it? My Mama would scold me for that.” You think he just attempted to make a joke. A lighthearted attempt.

But… No, he’s not rude at all. You’re the one who should be apologizing for hiding away from him like this, basically ignoring him on purpose. You’re not a rude kid, you swear you’re not. Mama raised you to be better than this— But a promise is a promise.

“My name is Geto Suguru, I just moved in today!” Something about that cheery tone in his voice, the mirth in his words has you feeling guilty, sad.

Yet you don’t reply. You can’t hear him anymore— Why’s it so quiet? Is he waiting for a reply, a sign that you were still listening?

You can’t exactly tell him you made a promise against him—!

So you choose to continue the silence, letting it stretch over the growing awkwardness as you huddle in on yourself.

“It would be nice to meet you.”

Would be. Is he trying to bait you out?

“Suguru! The bath is free!” A distant call from within his home, the feel of a night breeze starting to flutter your curtains as you grip onto them for dear life.

“Oh, coming! Well… I hope we get to talk properly soon. Sorry for scaring you, by the way.” Taps of feet against the carpets of his floors as he patters away— He should be gone now, right?

But… You learned something about the neighbour today. That he was… Unexpectedly really nice. Too nice, even. You feel your conscience gnawing at you, feel guilt grip at your heart.

Mama would not be proud of you for this. Not that you’re gonna tell her, anyway.

(Geto… Suguru, huh?)

——

You don’t meet them again— Until the next afternoon, that is.

You usually check the area for anyone outside the door before you go up open it, you swear that you really do. To go pick up mail from the mailbox, receiving Mama’s delivery items… The area has to be clear before you even dare to step a foot outside.

But not today. You weren’t careful enough to cover your tracks at all.

“Well, hello there!” A lady with black hair tied into a bun and the prettiest purple eyes you’ve ever seen. She’s bright, energetic… And really tall. Taller than Mama. “I’ve only met your mother just this morning, you know? She told me about you!”

She’s really chatty.

“I’m Geto Akari, sweetheart. It’s nice to meet you!”

Introduce yourself introduce yourself introduce yourself—

“…(last name) (name)…” You hope you’re loud enough. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the mail that you were holding to be more in line with each other— Less messy. You don’t want to leave the impression of being so, after all.

She spots the white of the papers that you were clutching to your chest, hugging the envelopes near as you blink up at her. “Running some errands for your mother, sweetheart?”

“Mm.” It’s all you can do, really. Just nod and agree as you stare up at her with a stiff expression.

Smile, you should smile. You need to remember to smile.

“Well, aren’t you quite responsible for someone so young! How old are you, darling?” It’s in a coo, a sweetened tone to her voice when she’s bending down slightly to look— Less imposing to you.

“I’m 4.”

“Why, that’s the same age as my son, haha!” She sounds excited— Sounds like she was happy to know about this information as she claps her hands together. “How coincidental!”

She’s so nice.

“Morning, (last name)-san!” You see a face pop out from directly behind her, nearly jumping out of your skin as you feel your heart miss a beat, finding his eyes that were glittering with excitement.

Geto Suguru.

He must’ve heard you just now—

“Suguru, that was rude! You have to introduce yourself before calling for others!” Her hand goes down to ruffle his shoulder-length hair as he laughs.

It makes you almost want to reply—

You slap a hand over your mouth before you even begin to say anything back. Eyes darting back and forth between your home, the front door, them— You think you remember Mama mumbling about gifts last night. You should give them something— Anything. Mama would want you to be polite.

An idea.

Your gaze flickers to her eyes as she tilts her head to the side in confusion, to her son that was still awaiting… So you just nod.

Before turning on your heel to run into the kitchen, climbing onto the stool to grab the last few cookies Mama had made yesterday— Which you were saving for both yourself and Satoru, by the way.

It’s for the best, you decide. TV people did always say that sacrifices are to be made for the grater good. Whatever a grater is, anyway.

(And while you may not have the best penmanship of… Anything yet— Considering you’re only 4. But you’re gonna try, at the very least.

WeL-chum n i hoPe we get aLonG! (Welcome and I hope we get along!) )

“Oh. Welcome back, sweetie!” She smiles at you once more. “I thought you got scared of us and ran away, haha.”

You don’t reply— Only holding up the note and individually wrapped cookies up towards her, doing your best not to look at the excited little boy next to her.

“Woah! Cookies!”

“Well… Aren’t you just so precious!” She’s practically swooning at this point, patting your head gently as you blink. “Looking at you already made me contemplate wanting a daughter, now you’re really pushing me to try for one!”

Please don’t. It would be harder to avoid 2 kids instead of 1.

“Thank you so much— Ah, don’t leave yet!” She’s already making you stop as she herself starts to rush back in her home, ushering her son along with her as you hear the commotion from inside.

“Mom, let’s give her this one!”

“I think those aren’t fresh, Suguru— Oh, how about these?”

“Wouldn’t it just be better to just—“

You tune them out, standing at the front of your house and swaying back and forth on the balls of your feet as you twiddle your fingers and look up towards the afternoon sun.

It would’ve been a good day to air out the futons, Mama would say.

“Ah—! Sorry for the wait, darling! Here you go!” It’s a plastic bag— A size that would be comfortable for your toddler self to drag in without much trouble… If it didn’t look like the items inside were gonna burst out of it.

“It’s for the both of you! I hope you’ll enjoy it!”

You only nod in thanks, smiling up at her slightly as you see her practically bite back a squeal, rubbing your head with held-back enthusiasm as her son… Smiles back at you.

And when you finally close the door behind you and take your shoes off at the genkan—

You think you feel some variation of guilt course through you as you look down at the strawberries you just received— Big, fresh… And really tasty looking.

They are too kind to someone like you. You drag it in, placing the plastic packaging carefully upon the lowest tier of the fridge that you can reach— Before bolting towards the phone.

Climbing up the stool to reach the phone, you grab hold of it as you start to dial the numbers you had memorized— Only just recently.

You hear the telltale ringing, awaiting his voice. It’s urgent, it really is. Your heart is starting to beat too fast, tummy feeling like it was churning the bread and milk from this morning too quickly… You’ve never even called anyone that wasn’t your Mama before.

Were you being too hasty with this?

“You have reached the Gojo estate. How may I assist with your enquiries?” You practically freeze where you stood, a socked foot nearly making you slip against the plastic stool as your breath hitches. You don’t recognise this voice. You don’t know who the man answering this phone was. He’s too old, much too fancy sounding compared to your Satoru.

He said Gojo estate… So you didn’t call the wrong number, right?

You think you’re starting to breathe heavily into the phone to calm your nerves— Making them the only sound before you even make a move to greet the person on the other end.

“…sorry, but the colour of my—“

“Can I… Talk to Satoru please?” You practically blurt it out with unpracticed anxiety, twirling the phone cord tight between your fingers as you try to calm yourself.

“Ah.” It seems that they understood. Thank goodness. “Please excuse my rudeness, but is that you, (name)-sama?”

“Yes…” No matter how pretentious that title sounds to you.

“Please wait just a moment.”

“(name)! Do ya wanna play today?! I bought a new puddi—“

“Satoru,” You practically sound breathless with relief when you hear his voice, but you have to tell him, you just have to. “I met the new kid just now.”

And that silences him in an instant.

“I didn’t say anything to him.” As rude as you may be. “His Mama saw me outside and talked to me first, though.”

Silence that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

(“Haha!” You hear him laugh, it’s bellowing, taunting and all too amused. “Why would I be mad? Ya ignored the kid right?!”

“Good job!”

And you feel satisfied.)

——

“(last name)-san.” His smile is ever courteous, ever polite and soft. It makes your heart melt, if you were to be honest. “Wanna play together?”

“I brought my crayons and some paper, since I thought you would like it.” Was it because of your note? Regardless, this was— A really bad time. A really, really bad time.

“(nameeeeee)! Why’d ya ignore me for the door—!” Oh no.

You didn’t predict that today would be the very day that they met— Swear you didn’t plan or foresee this. It was only this morning that you had heard your zodiac sign might be unlucky today, how troubles and tribulations may come swimming your way to stir the path of your future, only just this morning that you decided that that kind of thing was just another folly…!

You didn’t know it was going to be right?!

“Your hair’s ugly.”

“I don’t like your eyes.”

“Yea?! Ya wanna go, Weird Bangs?!”

“Not with the likes of you, Bug Eyes.”

“Haah?!”

With you cramped in between them, no less. You call it sheer, dumb luck that you were able to invite your neighbour inside without too much of a fuss. Get them to sit around you in your living room as you all… Draw.

Geto’s crayons are scattered about, the drawing block papers starting to fill with a myriad of colourful shapes as you hum and try to keep the peace between the two of them.

“Mama says that fighting is bad.” You think so too, honestly. What’s the point to them? It’s easier to keep the peace and be friends with each other.

“Sorry, (last name)-san.”

“Hmph!”

At least they’re settled down now.

“What are you drawing?” It’s Geto that was sitting cross-legged next to you as you’re lying on your front, legs kicked up and elbows propped against the ground to support your head as he watches your hands move.

And that has Satoru peeking over as well, much to his dismay.

“Don’t draw him—“ And he’s already huffing, puffing his cheeks and pouting when he sees you colour in black and dot in purple. He notices the telltale signs of the kimono he wore when he first met you, able to make out the figures you’re drawing in record time. Good. It’s good that you’re drawing him and you together, but he doesn’t want that thing with you both.

And that has him picking up a red crayon, catching your attention when you see him readying himself to scribble all over your hard work.

“W-wait, Satoru—“ You try to push him back, hold him away from the colourful drawing of yours. You don’t want it ruined, don’t want him to do something to it yet. I-it’s important to you, something you spent your time on, he can’t—

“She said she didn’t want you drawing on the paper.” Suguru’s grip on his wrist is tight, squeezing with a strength that was unprecedented for someone his size.

And you think you can feel something change in the air, the tension building, it’s bitter, unpleasant— Has you feeling like you want to curl into a ball and cry. A churn in your gut that you’re all too familiar with when you were living together with your Papa.

A warning. One that even children like them, like you; can interpret loud and clear even without having known the existence of pheromones and warning growls.

They say natures are inherent, after all.

“She’s my friend. I don’t get why you’re interfering, dummy.” He snarls back with just as much underlying aggression, stirring something in you to want to lie low— Disappear, even.

And you think that maybe you should listen to those zodiac sign forecasts a lot more.

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#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 10 months

Text

🌓Sweet Girl Venus ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This world contains in it a great number of elements that push most everyone to toughen up and abandon all senses of calm, grace and loveliness on the path towards growing up. In this world, so many people believe that the only way towards great achievements is by becoming tough. Whilst it is true that strength of character is crucial for survival, I don’t think toughness has to translate into being actually hard on oneself or everyone else.

Psychology says, ‘When someone is exceedingly critical of the smallest, most trivial things, that means they crave Love most of all.’

Here is a love letter from the Venusian Goddess harmonic of your Higher Self to yourself💌More than you may realise at this moment, you really are still a sweet and kind baby of gentle melodies and fragrant bouquet💐If you’d eventually realise this of yourself wholeheartedly, oh, that would be…

♥︎

SONG: teddy bear by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Uptown Girls (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Bubblegum Blue Baby

VIBE: Hatsukoi Shoujo (Singer’s First Love) by Sheena Ringo & Noir by SUNMI

what’s really sweet about you – King of Wands Rx

You’re the type of person who, in spite of your passion and determination, aren’t cruel. You possess a strong character and try to uphold justice everywhere you go. You’re really a courageous fellow with a heart of gold. Baby-blue gold. I see that you’re often the type of friend who cheers other people up; you always have an idea in your mind to make someone else feels better about their darker days. When somebody is lacking courage or confidence in themselves, you’re the one who says, ‘I believe in you, tho! It’s clear to ME you can do it!’

And because you always seem so energetic, confident and capable, people easily believe your words. I think people haven’t told you enough how grateful they are that you’re always cheering them on like that. It’s not that they’re not grateful; it’s that they don’t know how to convey their gratitude properly. You know, sometimes words fail us. Especially when you’re the type of magickal butterfly that attracts naturally a lot of people who are not so confident in themselves. Such people, sometimes they simply don’t know how to utter words of gratitude because not many people in their lives have shown them enough appreciation. You could be, probably, like the ONLY person in their world who shows them appreciation like that!

You’re really so kind and charitable, more than you’ll ever hear from the mouths of other people♥︎

honouring your softness – King of Cups

And I guess, for the most part, such people really see that you’re an authoritative figure in your own respect. Because you appear to them so large and magnanimous, people don’t even suspect that you also have your down days. Certain days, you’re also in the mood for getting praises just like everybody else! But because you don’t get that as much as you’d like, sometimes you get sad. I think you struggle with a little self-loathing (or a sense of being a phoney) every now and then, feeling like you’re not good enough whilst everybody else seems to move ever forward, supported by your encouraging words.

Sometimes you feel envious of others for what they have. They seem to have everything going on a lot easier than you. But baby, stop! This is all your wild assumption. The truth is, people really be trying their best to put up a strong face, to put their best foot forward and come and tell you good news about them, because they want to get praises from you😅Yeah, some things in Life really be tricky like that. As convoluted it gets, this is actually their way of thanking you. You encouraged them before, you gave them so much courage, inspiration and motivation; now they’re doing better and they want to let you know it’s thanks to you! They want you to feel proud of both themselves and the magnanimous ways you’ve cared for them🥲

Well, now that you know… Pretty baby, stop being so sad!🐬

a happily ever after – 7 of Cups

You’re the type of person who, most of the time, has your head in the clouds. This makes you feel ungrounded often. I think you sometimes feel overwhelmed by reality itself. There’s a lot of things you don’t understand and you often feel lost about the meaning of existence and your place in the world. Fret not—you’re hardly a failure. You’re magick, baby💙Magickal beings often find living in the Human world incredibly taxing, so you can be patient with yourself—it’s a group thing LMAO

If anything, it is exactly because you’re a magical being like this that you can be sure you’re going to get everything you want out of Life. As long as you don’t allow yourself to stop dreaming in exchange for being practical! You see, the world really isn’t as linear as you think. So, be confident in who you are and your own personal favourite methods of manifesting. There’s quite nothing in this world you can’t have. You just need to learn to focus on one or two things at a time so you get each thing you want faster⚡️Isn’t so wonderful to be so magickal?

Know that you could be so much happier. You could be so much more spiritually content because your heart really is good. In spite of some things you may believe about your flaws, your Higher Self really doesn’t view you that way. In this world that is a world of chaos where 98% of people are hurting and hurting each other, it’s expected, so it’s not such a big deal. You really are such a kind Soul and your sweetness, your charitable bubbliness, just needs your acknowledgement so you can give yourself more tender care🌸

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💙

quantum glow-up! – Silver Physician (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Magick

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Soft Enterprising Boss

VIBE: Cookie by NewJeans & YEPPI YEPPI by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – Ace of Pentacles

You are a powerhouse of creativity. You’re incredibly smart and resourceful. You’re like an idea bank but you couple that with real, tangible efforts that always produce real results. You have an amazing capability for laser focus and your work ethic is almost inimitable. With that, you’re truly a dependable friend who has a lot to offer those around you. People turn to you for advice, and you always have something valuable to offer. But yeah… that doesn’t mean your input is always appreciated. But that’s not your fault, right?

You need to admit that a lot of people are hopelessly confused. Sometimes, people simply want a friend to confide in and hear their whining. I know you’re almost always there to lend an ear even though it kinda irritates you that people seem so lost, so incapable of helping themselves. You genuinely want to help, but like already mentioned, sometimes all someone needs is a company that listens compassionately. I think you’re good as long as you’re there to be a pillar for someone in need.

So really, you needn’t concern yourself with how that someone will resolve their issues if they, indeed, do not seem that interested in resolving their own issues🤪It’s not like you’re getting paid for caring so much about other people’s personal drama!

honouring your softness – 2 of Pentacles

More than you give yourself credit for, you’re actually a really reasonable person. You’re grounded in reality and able to weigh options more realistically than most people you know. You’re always thinking of pros and cons in your head. That’s wonderfully responsible, of course, but sometimes you could get stuck in a rut when you simply can’t decide. Still, I think you’re such a wonderfully capable person who’s willing to go the distance when your mind’s finally set for a prize.

You’re ambitious and tenacious; no matter the challenge, you’re up for whatever. If it requires lessons, training, complex practices, extensive readings, you can do it all. But hey, stop to breathe a little, will you? The world doesn’t end tomorrow so you needn’t hurry so much, alright? It benefits no one to be so hard on yourself whatever the rewards may be at the end. What’s really exciting about this whole thing is how much you’re enjoying yourself as you gain knowledge and skills. So, I hope you remember this at all times.

As long as you’re having fun, Life’s good, you know. You can’t possibly think that Life’s only gonna get good when you’re at the end of your journey, right?

a happily ever after – 8 of Wands

You are a visionary—admit it. You have amazing ideas and your visions could possibly even change the world. You could become someone profoundly inspirational because there’s a teacher-like quality in you. If you feel that you’re not that good at communicating your ideas, it’s definitely a skill you can polish. You really have got it in you to become an effective speaker, even on a public platform, because your mind is usually quite methodical. Practice is all you need.

Even if you identify as someone shy, or timid, actually you will be so much happier in Life if you could be in the public eye for when you do so, you get to be charitable with your skills and knowledge. When you’re older in Life, you will have gained so much expertise in various disciplines, and if you’re not gonna share with others, how else are you gonna ever feel blessed?

You are a shooting star sent from Mars—or Venus—to teach Humanity a transcendent way of living. I hope you never forget how precious you are just for the fact you’ve reincarnated on Earth in this passage of time😜

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻🧡

quantum glow-up! – Green Magus (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Fertility

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – New-World Inventor

VIBE: Super Shy by NewJeans & Spicy by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – 4 of Cups

Gosh, you are such a loyal one that sometimes it comes to your detriment. You’re the type of person who could go the extra mile to accompany someone who doesn’t even deserve your compassion. You’re willing to sacrifice a lot to make another person feels less alone even when you’re not getting the same in return. I think you have a noble heart and that’s something clearly valuable. But… I hope you know when to stop giving your support to those who are clearly losers, hopeless cases. There’s only so much you could give to another when your own Cups aren’t getting filled in return.

‘People treat you the way they view you. Be blind if you want.’

I know you don’t want to disappoint because you know how depressing it is to get disappointed. You know first hand all the painful sensations that come with having your trust broken. But the way I see it, you shouldn’t turn your past disappointments into a goody two shoes tendency to please everybody. Are you certain this isn’t just a weird overcompensation that could destroy you in the end? You may wanna check out this concept of a Good Girl Syndrome. Understanding the symptoms could just help you unravel the patterns🧵🪡✂️

honouring your softness – Queen of Pentacles

You are an Old Soul, and it doesn’t matter how young or old you are right now, you have this innate desire to be of service to others. On a profound Soul level, you have this magnanimous energy that makes you want to care and nourish those you come into contact with. You are really a kind person, incredibly generous, to a fault LMAO After all, this Human world is littered with shameless takers who do not set a limit for themselves. You don’t wanna be stupid enough to get drained all the time by ingrates, right?

So, it’s time to stop giving too much of yourself and start affirming that you, too, deserve the company of people who will nourish you as much as you them. If you don’t start reaffirming this daily, it may never manifest, which would be such a shame because you’re so deserving to be blessed with warmth and sweet emotions🥧

a happily ever after – Page of Swords Rx

At the present moment, you may be thinking you’re simply afraid of conflicts and arguments. Heck, you don’t even like feeling other people’s negative emotions. If you were to stand up for yourself, you’re sure everybody would give you a nasty look, or even spew very unkind words to make you feel bad. So you know this and you try to avoid that as much as possible. But that’s got to stop now because when you really think about it, all the chaos and conflicts are WITHIN you. Is that even worth it? Do you think you deserve to live like this?

‘You’re keeping the peace around you, but what about the peace in you?’

I’d like to remind you, you’re really such a smart person. You’re so knowledgeable and actually, if you’re honest, have great desires to be of service to the world. You’re a high-value somebody, so you’re allowed to muster the courage to affirm that you CAN take up space and still maintain your boundaries. Alright? One day you’re going to really change the world. But right now, you need to change your world first.

Don’t be afraid of being seen as a bitch, especially when you know you’re not a bad person🍒Sweet girls can still be SPICY🌶

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💗

quantum glow-up! – Gold Astronomer (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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quintessencewrites · 1 year

Text

Y-yes, Daddy pt. 3

college student!ShuRiri x college student!black!fem!reader

Her eyes sent the message that her lips didn’t; they couldn’t, too busy being bitten to the flesh between Riri’s perfect rows of teeth, the gold on her lower set mirroring the gold around her neck.

Warnings: (buckle up, there are a few) 18+!!!!! Smut HEAVY, dom! Shuri, switch! reader, switch! Riri, cuckold? voyeurism, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader/ Riri receiving). rough sex (reader/Riri receiving), public sex? explicit language (as always), double penetration (not saying who, it's a surprise), anal sex (not saying who), heavy praise kink, slight illicit drug use, strap slinging! all three of them... etc because I know I missed a few...

Word count: 8.4k+

Tags:

@percsane @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot @6-noir @kya-rose @saintwrld @someshuriposts @jessiap @ilikegecos @iiluvl4n @katymae12344 @shurismainbxtch @crookedsaladlover @motheroffae @saintwrld @marsolgy @ogbells16 @verachii @shuriszn @playgurlxoxo @ashleighshaw @te-23 @dominquesheart @shuridefenselawyer @iminlovewithdomandtish @limbozqueen @cansah2002-blog

A/N: Y'ALL!!! I'M BACK <3 I don't know how to thank you guys enough for checking in on me while I was gone and giving me such grace while I got myself together a bit <3 I love you guys

Dedicated to my baby, @inmyheadimobsessed, Yes Daddy's biggest fan, president of the fan club, and one of my biggest supporters. She also gave me an idea for one of the scenes in this so co-writing status goes to her <3 Anyways ily, Lyric. As always, I hope I did you justice.

The cobalt waters glistened around your figure, swaying to and fro with a serenity unlike any you’d experienced. Eyes closed, face warm from the sun’s rays kissing your skin, Wakanda was a beauty to behold, with such vibrancy in its colors and its people.

Its marketplace was adorned with rich tapestries, the palace was picturesque. The rivers that flowed through the heart of the capital flowed the bluest blue you’d ever seen; the grass was too green, the sand too yellow.

“You grew up here? Shuri, it's fucking beautiful. Why would you ever leave?”

Riri’s hand never left yours, excitement traveling back and forth between your bodies. “I’d asked her the same thing, baby.”

“It’s unreal. It’s cartoon-like, like the trees and flowers, even the fucking sky, were painted that bright.”

Shuri couldn’t deny the pride that swelled within her at your awe of her home. She’d experienced it with Riri the first time she brought her over, and now, with you, her heart skipped a few beats just the same.

Your mouth dropped at every spectacle, arms wide, ready to engulf every new person. Merchants shared your contagious grin when you approached their displays, excitement beaming across every feature on your face.

“Princess, Miss Williams,” they greeted. They’d nod in return, dropping a wave or two every now and again.

Shuri fell into your forestep, presenting a beam just as wide. Her usually too-cool demeanor dissipated the moment her sandaled foot touched the Wakandan dirt. Even Riri couldn’t deny the peace that the country brought forth from her. Her shoulders fell, relaxed for the first time in weeks as the stress of midterms and exams and assignments finally evaporated.

The princess hadn’t anticipated taking you home to meet ma dukes so soon, but you were ready.

“Wakanda? Why?”

You rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh floating from your lips and through the air. Riri sat on the other side of your dorm room, man spread with a wrap between her fingers, preoccupied, but still tuning in. “I told you, y/n.”

“Hush, Ri. She ain’t even say no yet.”

“I’m waiting to hear why before I say no.”

Upon your face were the biggest, roundest, neediest eyes Shuri had ever seen. Your bottom lip protruded into a plump little pout that quickened the pace of her heart. In her mind, she’d already lost. Regardless of the reason, she wasn’t going to be able to deny that look.

“Because it's spring break, I’m tired of the same old beach trips, and I’ve never been,” you walked closer, until your bosom rested on her stomach, eyes batting up at her with sweetness. “What better tour guide than the Princess?”

“Give it up, baby. Ain’t no way she gon say yes that ea-”

“Shut up, shortie. What better tour guide than the Princess, right?”

Shuri made plans to take you to her home that very night.

You were ready to visit the fairytale-like land; the very place where the rumors of its grandeur couldn’t even do it justice. The place where vibranium ran through its streets and every shade of brown sparkled under the sun's rays like a spotlight on the deserving natives.

You were ready to meet their monarch, the powerful woman whose monologue at the State of the Union address those few years ago still gives you goosebumps. The awe-inspiring mother who raised such a capable daughter, so unlike herself and allowed her off to the States.

You were ready to put a face to the names Shuri and Riri spoke of, those who were oceans away and still held such a prominent place in their worlds, one which you wished to be a part of.

Thank Bast, or God, or fate, or whatever the hell it was for placing you at MIT at the same time as Shuri and Riri. Their pervertedly twisted minds complimented yours so beautifully, like the missing piece in a complex puzzle.

Nerves didn’t dare touch you when the Queen greeted you, slender, loving arms pulling you in, holding you tight, and giving you a motherly love you hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Y/n,” the older royal’s voice was booming. “Shuri, umhle (she’s beautiful).”

“Ndiyazi (I know), mother.”

“Grinnin’ like a dummy” Riri’s voice was a barely-heard whisper, not risking her words to be heard by the well-respected monarch.

Shuri's eyes threw daggers at the small girl, an even smaller smile playing at her lips. She felt such serenity at your acceptance of her country that not even Riri’s words would get to her.

The young royal wanted so badly to praise you, to kiss you, to shower you in the melody of ‘good girls’ that you deserved.

Slender fingers snaked around your exposed waist, rippling the water around you and pulling your mind back to the present. Your lids lulled open, meeting a familiar gaze in the foreign place.

“Hey, ma.”

The scent of cocoa butter radiated off you in an aura. Riri inhaled deeply, taking it in, entangling her brain with your essence in a dizzying spell. You were so soft under her touch, your chocolate-colored skin melting in her hands.

Her head was heavy against your shoulder, pushing her weight against yours until your back was pressed into the damp marsh of the riverbank.

The lifting of your hand and caressing of her curls was instinctual and Riri softened even further underneath your fingertips. She’d been wanting this for hours; just to fall into your hold, to grab you and know that you were really there.

Barely an arm's length away stood your princess with Nakia, engulfed in a conversation of their own, paying you no mind. Okoye sat close by, only allowing her feet to be swallowed by the water’s gentle waves.

“I see the States are treating you well, Shuri?” Nakia’s light voice curved at the end of her sentence, a tease evident between her words.

“What makes you say that?”

“You haven’t returned home yet is what.”

“I haven’t graduated yet, Okoye.”

A string of mumbles leaves the general’s mouth, laced with curses. “You’ve gotten greedy, Princess.”

Shuri leans over the shore, elbows resting in the sand. “Greedy how?”

“You went to America for school, not to become a sister-wife.”

The poor young royal can’t hold back the laughter that erupts from her. “A sister-wife?! What the fuck are you talking about, Okoye?”

“You need two girlfriends, Shuri?”

“I do.”

“For what?”

Shuri’s wandering gaze over to you and Ri is full of desire that spills over her ducts like a tear. “They both got something different to offer.”

Riri caught Shuri’s gaze from the corner of her eye. Of course, her majesty was watching you. She was always aware of what her girls were up to, both on and off campus. She saw the way Ri’s nails grazed the small of your back and the way your body curved upward in response, pressing your two figures into one another even further.

She saw Riri’s hands travel further and further south, tickling your skin until they stiffened in the waistband of your bikini bottoms and came to a stop. Shuri’s breath caught in her throat, waiting and watching, wondering how far Riri would go considering the audience that surrounded them.

Riri knew Shuri was watching. She wanted her to; she wanted her to see the effect she had on your body, without Shuri’s presence. She knew the panther could smell the heat radiating from your frame, pressed tightly against hers.

So tight, so close that the chain that never left Ri’s neck was resting in your bosom. The chill of the metal contrasts with the humidity in the air and causes a shiver to travel down your spine.

It was such a slight movement, one that didn’t go unnoticed by either girl. Those mocha-colored eyes that you adored bore into yours, and baby, if only you could read the filthy thoughts behind them.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. Riri wanted you and she wasn’t being slick about it. Her slender fingers toyed with your bottoms, one hand gently tugging the drawstring that held the thin pieced fabric together. The other grazed the front of your dangerously low waistband, touching your sensitive skin, but barely.

“You’re so pretty, y/n, baby. I tell you that enough?”

“More than enough, Ri.”

Hmm, the distracted girl hums. “I like this swimsuit on you.” Her fingers don’t move from your waistline, playing and fiddling with the fabric there, tugging it away now and again.

You wanted more; you craved more, and Riri didn't need to be a mind-reader to come to that conclusion either. Her eyes sent the message that her lips didn’t; they couldn’t, too busy being bitten to the flesh between Riri’s perfect rows of teeth, the gold on her lower set mirroring the gold around her neck.

She cocked a thin brow and a devilish smirk played across her face. Her thin fingers continued to move, slowly and meticulously so that the water didn’t stir.

Shuri caught the exact moment Riri succeeded in untying the dainty strings of your swimsuit. Her gaze traced your startled features when the fabric floated away from your body.

“Riri, what the fuck?” It’s supposed to come out intimidating and intense, but the pitch of your voice and vibrato in your vocal cords melodizes a low moan from your lips instead.

Underneath the still waters, from the waist down, you are completely naked. Everyone is oblivious; except Riri, whose actions were intentional, and Shuri, who was using every bit of restraint held in her slim frame to remain stoic.

“You gonna be good for me, baby? Good and quiet?” Riri’s lips brush the sensitive skin where lobe meets neck. In the back of your throat is a low moan, one that you know can’t be expelled. It stays tucked away and you nod instead, head barely moving, bobbing curls that can be explained away by the breeze.

Shuri’s truly amused at the sight before her and the reaction it has on her body. She’s hypnotized by Riri’s fingers playing with you, gliding through your slit, brushing against your tender bud much too gently for your liking. The wetness in your folds can’t be deciphered from the wetness of the water, yet those bejeweled nipples that stood at attention, straining behind the padding of your top, exhibited the arousal that started in your toes and crept its way upward.

She’s amazed at how little the water moves around you, eyes darting back and forth between you struggling to remain quiet and the conversation she held a part in with lifelong friends. Her mouth waters at the thought of you, so exposed. Thoughts of how fucking wet you must have been, how slick your pussy was, calling out for her.

Your mind is muddled, completely ignorant of the extra set of eyes on you. Riri’s teasing you, never putting her long phalanges right where you want them. She’s taking her sweet time, mapping out every line, dip, and curve of your core. Her touch is too light for your liking as the neediness in the pit of your stomach expands.

She’s got a few moments left in this game of cat and mouse before you break and the moan you try to disguise as a cough tells her just that.

Shuri’s eyes wander back over at the sound she knows all too well. She couldn’t help but smirk at the noise. The heat she burns into the back of Riri’s head causes the distracted girl’s head to turn, resting her gaze on the princess’s watchful glare.

Ri’s brow raised once more in a silent question to Shuri, one that you weren’t able to decipher.

Too bad for you.

She doesn’t even look at you as her dark eyes drag slowly down Riri’s small frame and back up. Her chiseled face is unreadable to you and with a nod, a quick tilt of her chin towards the sky, Ri reaches for your bottoms, dragging them back between your two bodies.

“Lemme help you put these back on, baby,” Her whisper is so low, it’s almost nonexistent.

Your sigh in response is frustrated, so sexually frustrated, just oozing an attitude Riri wants no part of. “You fucking tease-”

Her hand leaves the water, snaking around your chin and drawing your faces together.

“I’m not done yet, baby. Just listen, damn.”

The chill behind her words shut you up immediately. Silence washes over you as your choppy movements ripple in the water, too quick for Nakia and Okoye to notice anything but your smiles, plastered across your face like a mask.

Shuri’s stifled laughter reeks of “I know.” The way she looks at you, so deep, so suggestive makes it clear she knows exactly what you two were up to. Her voice pulls her friend's attention back to her, those glistening coffee-bean-hued eyes dancing with knowing.

“Nakia, how is my little Toussaint?”

Riri’s body emerges from the river first, bottoms hanging so low on her waist, the indent where her abs meet her pelvis winks at you. Her hand reaches down, extending to you and the little effort it takes for her to lift you from the water is beyond impressive.

Your drenched swimsuit runs streaks of water down your body, glistening against your dark skin like glitter. Your steps falter, the quiver from your heat making its way down your legs and tripping you. Riri guides your walk back to the palace, a ‘goodbye’ to Shuri barely playing on your lips as she lingers. Squelching emits from your soaked steps, following Ri’s quick ones.

Goosebumps prickle your skin at the icy air in the palace, the large place still maze-like to you. Riri, however, is an expert guide. She makes every turn with precision, every array of large doors leading somewhere.

Her steps suddenly stop, in the nook of a long hallway. Yours skip a bit, not expecting her sudden standstill, and her cool hands, still damp and shriveled from the water, reach for your bicep, pulling you into her.

“Ri-what?”

Her lips crash into yours, kissing you the way she’s craved all day. They’re moving in sync, tasting every crook of her mouth, entangling your tongues, and swapping saliva. The moan that remained trapped in your throat finally releases, deep and breathy between her lips.

“Couldn’t wait til we got to the room. Need you, now.”

The way Riri’s hands travel your body, the way they hunger to hold you, squeeze you, anywhere, everywhere. It’s fucking intoxicating, coating your mind like a drug.

“W-wait, fuck, Ri,” her lips move from yours, trailing down your jaw, licking up your neck in such a way that you shudder. She’s famished now, having had a taste of you, and she needs more. Her lips attack your throat, nipping and biting. You’re close, so close to melting in her arms, right then and there.

“Come on baby, you know my name and it ain’t Ri. Say it.”

There was a part of you that hated the effect their vulgar words had on you. They were so lewd, so perverted, and they had such a fucking hold on you. The dampness in your bottoms couldn’t be explained away solely by your swim any longer and Riri knew it. She could feel your body temperature rise, your skin growing warmer under her touch.

“Ma-”

She tasted the word from your lips, growling at what they did to her. She couldn’t keep her hands off you, overwhelmed, not knowing where to grab. They rested on your right breast, squeezing, but she removed them quickly, afraid that your left one would grow envious at the lack of attention it was receiving. Caressing your back didn’t feel exact either; your front being so soft- there it was, begging for her fingertips to sink into it as well.

Riri’s mind was racing an unwinnable race. What if the Queen was around, or the Dora? What if her body broke, fucking fell apart, needing so much of your touch that it couldn’t be satisfied by the little bit you were offering up?

Your still-wet (now even wetter) bikini bottoms were glued to your skin. The effort it took for Riri to pull them away from you, to pull them to the side just enough to reveal your pussy to her left water dripping to the stone floor beneath you.

She wasted no time. Fuck all the teasing she did before, Riri fucking needed you. Her lips were on yours once more as she lined up two fingers at your entrance, preparing herself to swallow the moans that would spill from your lips.

And swallow them she did, keeping your lips connected until she was knuckles deep, only coming up for air once your moans had died down to whimpers.

“My good girl, baby. I know you can be quiet, right?”

You weren’t so sure. As soon as those digits got to moving, you knew that biting your tongue would be a near-impossible task.

“C’mon, baby. Gotta be quiet so I can fuck you good.”

How pathetic was it, the way obedience ran through your veins? Your nod was hard, curls bouncing back in forth. “I’ll be quiet, ma,” the words quickly followed before Ri could correct you for not using them.

You felt your knees buckle beneath you the moment her slender fingers slid out of your wet center, only to be thrust in once more. What a beautiful pattern, one that left a warmth spreading through your body, face hot, cheeks hot, cunt hot.

Ri knew your body better than no other, though she and Shuri were neck and neck. Her free hand had already slithered around your waist and her center of gravity shifted, preparing herself to catch you if your legs were to give out entirely.

Your bottom lip was rolled between your teeth, moans collecting behind it. You were a sight to be fucking seen, a pussy full of creamy fingers, and eyes that begged and pleaded for more.

“Look at you, baby. You doing such a good job, taking me like that.”

Riri was enjoying the sight before her, the tightness of your walls, clenching around her. She almost drooled when she looked down and saw the cum she was digging forth from you, collecting in the palm of her hand. Even she had to resist a moan as the need to taste you, to fuck you, to ruin you crossed her mind.

The fingers trapped within you would not speed up, nor slow down, much to your demise. Your hips rocked, pelvis crashing back against Riri’s hand as you rode her. Whispered moans were shared between you, lewd praises being thrown your way.

“Shit, baby, you doing so good. Look at you, fuck.”

Low moans were all you could respond with.

“You gon ride me like this in the room, pretty girl? Gon let me get strapped up and watch you bounce on my dick?”

Fuck, Riri’s words had opened the floodgates. She could feel you tightening and convulsing around her fingers. Your moans had grown at that point, but she couldn’t stop you, Your head was thrown back, so her lips couldn’t cover yours. She couldn’t use her hands either; one of them was holding up your limp figure, the other, still being ridden into the sunset.

You’d earned those moans, she decided, and as soon as you were done, the trek to your room would continue.

All Riri could do was watch as her fingers tipped you over the edge. Your chest strained against your top, rising and falling with every gasp; those lips, round and full and so fucking biteable, parted and poised as you came.

A sea of thoughts swam through Riri’s pretty mind, not a single one of them an intelligent one. There wasn’t a moment when she didn’t think you were stunning, but baby, when you came? Ugh, it fucking did things to her, bringing forth groans from her chest.

Your brows furrowed, your body stilling and Riri’s hand was drenched. “Ohh, shit-” Your voice shook, just as unsteady as your legs, but Ri had you.

“I know, baby, I know.”

You were a bit louder at this point, your voice echoing off the tall walls. Riri wasn’t religious, but she was truly praying to Bast that no one would wander upon you two.

Her thighs were pressed together, her body shaking a bit, still in the wet swimsuit. You didn’t even have to touch her for her body to react. Just watching you, so vulnerable, so needy, all over her-just for her.

Your head rocked back up slowly, eyes finally meeting Ri’s. A deep blush grew in your chest and rose to your face. Riri’s was adorned with a sexy smirk, one so delicious.

“Good girl, baby.”

You had made Riri soft and she hated to admit it. She’d never been so gentle to someone, so tender.

“You ready to keep walking?” She plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, pairing it with one on your neck, nuzzling her head into the sensitive space.

“How much further we got?”

She pulls her head from you and glances down the hall. “Um, not too far.”

Mm, you groan. “Do we have to? You could just take me right here.”

Riri’s chuckle is so deep and alluring. “Don’t tempt me, baby. C’mon, it’s not that far.”

“Carry me?”

She couldn’t tell you no. You knew she couldn’t. Neither of them could, especially Riri. You were spoiled in every sense of the word, and they’d stopped trying to deny you. Why should they?

“Bridal style or piggyback?”

Your dark eyes danced with joy as she trekked through the halls, you upon her back with a goofy ass grin.

She was right, it really wasn’t that far.

The bed bounced when Riri finally dropped you on it, legs spread wide, bosom bouncing with the fall.

Ri tapped your pussy through your bottoms, standing to retrieve her suitcase. “Off, baby.”

You were eager, the fabric still sticking to your skin, falling to the floor with the weight of the water drenching them. Your damp pussy came into view to the girl across the room, whose breath caught in her throat at the delicious sight.

She watched you sit up and untie the strings to your top, the barely-there piece falling from your body. You watched her visibly drool when your breasts come into view, full and round, nipples erect, begging to be touched in any way.

You had her, every bit of her attention was on you, waiting so patiently for her to touch you.

Patience had never been your virtue, however.

Your hands stuttered as they traced up your body, your nipples hardening at the sensation. With fingers you wanted so badly to be Riri’s, that you imagined were hers as she watched you from a small distance.

The piercings adorning your bosom were one of her favorite parts of you. If her pupils could form tiny hearts, they would have. The sight before her was mouthwatering. Your fingers flicked the jewelry, that perfect little “O” forming on your lips.

The heat in the air was palpable, the intimacy between you two undeniable.

Your left breast weighed heavy in your hand as you brought it up, further and further until your tongue flicked out, eyes never parting from hers while you tasted your hard nipple and the metal pierced into it.

Every bit of her demeanor cracked under the sexiness that was you. She stood frozen, in awe as you rose from the bed, strutting towards her on your toes, ass high, head even higher.

You bent into her suitcase, finishing the task she’d abandoned. The harness was tucked away into the bottom, hidden beneath weeks worth of clothes.

Still on your knees, you grab Riri behind hers, pulling her closer, until her clothes pussy sat in your face. “Here, lemme help you.”

The wet suit was already hanging so low on her waist that it only took a tug to drop them, her pretty, wet cunt coming to view in front of you.

Your mouth is on her before you can resist the urge. She accepts your hands on her ass, holding her in place against your tongue.

Riri’s hand rests on your head, trying so hard to keep her balance and not collapse. Your mouth goes to work, the taste of her satisfying your insatiable hunger. Her clit is so plump against your tongue, the sensitive bulb of nerves twitching, jumping away from the licks that won’t let up.

“You taste so good, mami,” the urge to please fueled a courage unfamiliar to you. Riri bucked at your words, eyes rolling into her head.

“Shit-“ the moans came from her in rapid succession, her lungs never fully expanding to take in a complete breath. They were music to your ears. Your pussy leaked, needing to be stuffed full of her.

You couldn’t part from her just yet. Her hands tangled in your hair, gripping and pulling. Your name was on her tongue, her abs flexed with the orgasm building within her.

“Shit, baby, you doing so good.”

The praises rang in your ear, satisfying something deep within you. You lapped faster, sucking and slurping. Riri’s pussy was wet, the vulgar sounds echoing in the room.

She was close-so fucking close. The juices that poured from her were streaming, dripping onto your tongue with a taste that you couldn’t get enough of. Her body burned, needing to feel you everywhere.

Ri’s thick thighs trapped your head between them, drowning you in the waters that she released, so warm and sweet. Your satisfied moans vibrated within her and though your jaw grew sore, you weren’t stopping.

Not until you’d planted a passionate kiss to her center, tonguing it as though those lips would kiss you back.

She watched you stand to your full height with a look full of lust. Oh, she was gonna fuck you up. Riri no longer cared who heard; she needed to hear you scream her name, she needed the bed to be soaked and she needed you to spill over for her time after time.

“Strap up, Ri.”

The harness had gone from your hand to hers as you backed away, returning to her suitcase to choose the dildo you so craved.

“Where’s mine?”

There were at least six toys, all stored away from any wavering eyes. They were different shapes and sizes, different lengths and girths, all ones that you’d used before.

“Which one, baby?”

Ri wasn’t looking at you, too preoccupied with the straps around her hips and thighs.

“The vibranium one-“

“They’re all vibranium, y/n.”

You made an audible sound when your teeth smacked your lips, one that Riri took note of.

“The one I like the most, Ri.”

“I don’t know which one you talking bout, baby,” she stepped towards you, reaching into the bag to pull a thick piece from it, securing the toy to her pelvis.

“Guess we gotta try them all, see if any of them are ‘yours’.”

She sat on the bed, resting on her forearms, arm held out and welcoming you over. Your steps were slow, and when you were finally close enough, Ri grabbed your waist, pulling your legs on either side of her hips.

“This how I like you most, pretty girl.”

You hovered over the thick cock awaiting you. Riri’s hands on your backside, eyes scanning you. She brought your hands to her chest and tilted her hips upwards.

“Sit on it, baby.”

Her whispered commands floated softly to your ears and you groaned at them as the heat burned within your chest. Your pretty lips parted over the tip of her dick, her hands guiding your body onto the extremity.

Ri was biting on her lip so hard, she was afraid it would bleed, but the sight of you would be worth it. Your body lowered, further and further and she could feel your pussy stretching over the thickness of her cock. She could feel your warmth as her tip kissed your cervix and your pelvis kissed hers. A deep groan rumbled in the back of her throat.

Your pussy felt so full. Beneath you, your legs quivered, the tightness of Riri in your cunt weakening you. “Ohh, fuck-”

Riri gave you a moment to get adjusted, lifting your hand to kiss the palm before resting it back above her chain, the metal cool compared to the heat emitting from your bodies. “Move, baby. Bounce on this shit.”

You weren’t one to be told twice. Knees planted, toes digging into the mattress, you gave her what she wanted. The faux dick slid in and out of you, slurping with your wetness. Ri’s head is thrown back, mouth wide open. “Fuck, baby-”

Riri was something to behold. Her brows furrowed, forehead pulled tight in concentration. Each time you landed back on her cock, your ass slapped her thighs and the sound vibrated through the room.

“S-so good, ma. D-dick so fucking good.” You were already stuttering between clenched teeth. It felt so good, so right. Riri fit into you like she was made for you. Your thighs started to burn, your speed picking up, throwing Riri’s small body into the bed each time your body slapped hers.

“Griot, soundproof the room.”

Her African accent was thick and low and it shocked you to stillness. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Ugh, baby-” Riri didn’t give a fuck who had entered. She already missed the feel of your pussy swallowing her cock.

Shuri sat on the loveseat adjacent to the bed. Her swimsuit had been swapped out for a black shirt and jean shorts, Her chains swung around her neck with each movement, her curls hanging lower in her face than usual, still weighed down by the water.

“Who told you to stop, intombi entle (pretty girl)?”

She rested her elbows on her knees, hands folded before her. Her tongue flicked over her lips, moistening them before her canines sunk into them.

“Ri, fuck her.”

Wakanda was doing a number on all of you because Riri did as she was told with no smartass comeback. Her hands grabbed your wrist, pulling them from her chest and restraining them behind you. Alarm bells rang in your head, but you ignored them, your body too excited for what was to come.

You could feel Shuri’s eyes on your ass, anticipating Ri’s next movements. She fiddled for a moment, her thick cock sitting stuffed between your walls, jerking into you just slightly. You were leaking around her, growing wetter at the watching panther.

Riri’s first thrust was anything but gentle. You bounced back down on her dick with the echoing sound of skin slapping skin. “Oh, my g-”

Your words are gagged in your throat, the next thrust coming quick and hard, cutting you off. Shuri’s eyes follow your body as Riri finds her rhythm.

“You fucking her good, Ri. Look at her, just taking that shit.”

You and Ri share a moan at Shuri’s praises. She can’t wait until she can step in and get a taste. She’s allured by your bouncing breasts, so heavy and needy, the way they jump with your gasps and Riri’s movements. Your cunt is spilling onto Riri’s thighs, causing a stickiness between you two that the princess can’t wait to get her mouth on.

Your movements sputter, cries growing louder, climbing higher. You feel Riri deep-its like she's in your stomach, the way she pounds into you. You’re clenching around her, squeezing your thighs, praying away your impending orgasm. You weren’t ready to cum yet. You didn’t want her to stop, Bast, you didn’t want this to stop. The lack of feeling in your legs was nothing compared to the feeling in between them.

“Ooh, pretty girl. You gon cum already?”

Words no longer exist in your mind so your head shakes in response. Shuri doesn’t move, fueling your flame from her front-row seat. “You not? That dick not good enough to cum on? My bed not good enough for you to flood?”

Riri is fucking drilling you. Her hips rotate into yours, her cock digging into parts of your cunt that you don’t think have ever been reached.

“C-cum on m-me, baby,” Riri is breathless, her own orgasm fighting to get past the dam she has in place. “F-flood my shit.”

Their words are too much-they’re always too much. You could be on the edge of a cliff and their words would be what pushed you over. It did, every time, and this time was no fucking different.

Your cunt rains down on the girl beneath you, a scream trapped in your chest as she continues amidst the mess you’re making.

“Fuck-” it drags from Riri’s mouth. She can’t hold it anymore. You’re just too warm, too wet, too tight. “I-shit, baby, c-can I cum in you?”

A nod is all she gets as confirmation and it's more than enough for her. Your eyes hit the back of your skull when you feel her warmth fill you, pushing around the cock that was still buried within your walls.

“Ooh, fuck, ma-” your words find you, still gasped and low.

You raise up on shaky legs that fail you. Riri releases from your pussy with a wet squelch and you fall beside her, body spent, legs sore. Both of you lay side by side for a moment, hoping for a few moments to recover, but Shuri is having none of that.

She stands from the chair, eyes stuck on your dripping cunt. It’s calling her and she saunters over, a “good fucking girl” falling from her parted lips. Her large hands hook beneath your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed with swift movements.

Her head dips to your sore center, blowing gentle, cool air over your soaked lips. They’re so pretty, so puffy. You quiver beneath her, “W-wait, Shuri, I need a second-”

“I don’t care,” Her tongue is flat and wide, licking your entire core. The moan she releases at your taste is primal. Both you and Riri’s juices dance on her tongue, and it's better than any chef-made meal she’s ever had.

The princess’s lips cup your clit and suck. Your back arches, throwing more of your wetness into her face and she accepts it graciously. You feel her everywhere down there-tongue stiffening and darting into your slit, nipping at your lips, kissing on your clit.

Her tongue picks up speed, developing a pattern. It goes from left to right, up and down, in circles and drawing shapes. A square, a triangle, an S-H-U-

“D-did you just spell out your name?”

A big, stupid grin stretches her cheeks when she parts with your pussy. “I did. Good girl, picking up on that.”

Her praises bring forth a slight chuckle from you. “Why?”

“It’s mine; you’re mine.” She shrugs and her lips are warm and wet when they return to yours.

Riri is mesmerized, stomach heaving. “Can I taste?”

Shuri’s eyes may leave you, but her mouth does not. She beckons Ri over with a quick nod, tongue on your clit while her finger toys with your entrance.

You thought Shuri would move then and make way for Riri, but you were so fucking wrong, it was laughable.

Two tongues, two wet mouths were on your pretty little cunt and it was heavenly. Shuri and Riri had your sensitive bulb trapped between their tongues as they tasted you, tasted each other.

“Fuck, fuck, please-”

“Please what, baby?” Riri’s voice was muffled, her head still between your thighs. She wasn’t talking to you, though. Her words were directed to the glistening pussy stuffed in their faces, begging for them to tear it apart.

Fingers enter you and again, you didn’t know whose they were, but they were fucking you, deep, hard, so damn fast. “You squeezing me so fucking tight, baby, damn. Squeeze on my fingers, just like that. Look at you, you doing such a good job.”

“I-shit, mm, I w-wanna cum, pleaseeee-” That last syllable dragged through the air. It was too much. Fingers and tongues and mouths, everywhere. You couldn’t tell them apart, but it didn’t even fucking matter. They were going to bring you to your release, orgasm after orgasm. They weren’t planning on stopping, there would be no breaks.

“Ooh, Shuri, she asked so nicely.”

Mhm, she moaned, too busy with your clit in her mouth. “Give her what she wants then.”

There was perfection in their movements. The two fingers curved into your cunt were rubbing your G-spot every time, the tongue on your clit further tangling the sensitive nerves behind it. Baby, you were so fucking close, you just needed one more thing-

The third finger in your pussy is what did it.

“F-f-uck, I, coming, da-shit-” You were drunkenly incoherent. The feeling was overwhelming, so much so that it hurt. Your body needed to get away, but it couldn’t move, frozen in place as pleasure mixed with pain.

Shuri and Riri were soaked, faces still deep between your thighs as you squirted before them. They devoured you, not letting a single drop go to waste. Your juices ran down their chins, glistened on their cheeks. It was so sloppy, so fucking messy, and it was delicious, the way they swallowed you.

Finally, your sap ran dry and your breathing evened out. Shuri flicked your bean with her tongue once more before she parted with it.

“Aye, Ri-”

Riri’s eyes departed your quivering cunt with a roll. “I swear to God, if you say I took that like a bitch, Imma-”

Shuri’s lips shut her up, pressing hard against Ri’s. It catches the small girl off-guard for a moment, and her mouth drops open.

The princess uses that as her in, tasting your essence from Riri’s tongue. The kiss is sloppy, strings of spit connecting them, your cum being swapped between their mouths. Riri moans into it, and you follow up with one of your own.

You can see their tongues caressing each other, twisting and tangling, and it's so damn sexy.

You’d never seen them like this, so tender with one another.

Shuri drops Ri onto the bed beside you, their mouths never detaching. An idea forms in your mind at the sight and you will yourself to get up. Your sore muscles scream as you turn towards them, reaching between their close bodies to unfasten the harness still strapped to Riri.

Her moans fill the room, coming out muffled underneath Shuri’s lips. Neither of them notices you leave the bed, moving through the room like a ghost. Riri’s suitcase is still open and at the very bottom, zipped behind a discarded pocket is exactly what you’re looking for.

You weren’t one to strap up often in this relationship, and you had no idea how the straps were supposed to go around your hips. “Shuri, c’mere.”

At the sound of your voice, Shuri pulls away from Ri, drool covering their faces and sparks behind their eyes. She turns and catches a glimpse of you, struggling with the harness, and cocks a sharp brow your way.

You can’t help the eye roll you let follow through. “C’mere, please?”

“That wasn’t the problem with that sentence, and you know it, baby girl.”

“I need help,” you whined, patience thinning.

“What are you trying to do baby?” Shuri reaches you in two steps, her long fingers taking the harness from you and securing it properly.

You ignore her, directing your next words at the girl still on the bed, watching, waiting for what was to come.

“Ri, can I fuck you?”

Her mouth fell agape, stunned by the thought. You took her dick so damn well, but she had never taken it from you. The thought was dizzying, excitement in her bones, slick in her cunt.“Y-yeah, baby.”

“You sure it’s not you who need to get fucked again?” Shuri grabs your face, index finger, and thumb sinking into your dimples. “You seem to have forgotten how to address us, baby.”

The smile that spreads on your lips is devious. “Whether or not I address you correctly won’t change the answer, now will it?”

You’ve rendered the princess speechless. Before she can open her mouth again, you throw a pair of boxers in her direction, the ones she used when she fucked you into oblivion.

“What you want me to do with these?”

“Wear em on your head,” your sarcastic tone cracked a smile on the young royal’s face. She reached up to catch the object you threw her way. It was one of your toys from home, a smaller cock compared to others you used, but still impressive.

“Safeword, ma?”

Riri sat on the bed, legs spread wide. Anxiety pooled through her veins at what was coming for her and she couldn’t wait. “Um, shit. Red?”

“You always choose red.”

Her shoulders rise and fall, “Then it should be easy to remember.”

You were too busy trying to secure a thicker piece to your body, the vibranium running through it connecting you to the fake cock like it was real. A soft moan lingered on your lips at the feeling radiating down your legs and through your center.

“You think you in charge now baby?” Shuri’s tone was teasing but her words were true. You’d taken a new lead in the new country and she kind of liked it.

“Nah, I like being taken care of too much,” your wink actually causes the princess to blush. “Can you go sit behind Ri? Put her on your lap?”

“Yes ma’am,” Shuri gave you a swift salute and made her way back across the room. She lifted Ri with no effort, placing her still-naked, still-wet body on her lap, back to front.

You made your way behind her, the bed dipping with your added weight. Riri was mesmerized by the sight of you, on all fours, making your way to her like a predator to its prey.

Her lips are parted so prettily, waiting for you. Her breathing hitches as your mouth approaches hers. When they connect, it’s with a moan and you can still taste yourself, still taste her on her own tongue.

The kiss is brief and wet. Your lips wrap around her tongue, sucking on your own flavor and when you pull away, you pull her bottom lip with you, teeth sunken into their softness.

“Remember the safe word?”

“I-yeah? I just said it like two minutes ago.”

You move past her, lips brushing her ear ever so slightly. “Just making sure.”

Shuri’s your target and you get close, your voice getting low so that only she can hear you.

“Has she ever taken you in her ass, daddy?”

She sputters, her nickname rolling off your tongue and straight to her core. “U-uh, y-yeah, baby. Why?”

“Because that’s where I want you.”

This fucking confidence, it looks so good on you. Shuri can only nod, mind foggy. She lifts Riri by the back of her thighs, planting slow, tender kisses on her neck. “You ready, Ri?”

Shuri’s cock is lined up, ready to enter and Riri’s caught on. “Baby wh-“

You’re running your hand down her front, over her golden chain, through the valley between her breasts, down the tattoo that sits at the top of her stomach, past her belly button, all the way down to her clit. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

Riri fucking loved this, whatever this side of you was. “I-I want to.”

“Good,” your arms fall around her shoulders and you nod at Shuri to continue. “And we gon take real good care of you, I promise.” You seal your vow with a kiss, just as Shuri’s tip slides in, trapped in Riri’s tightness.

“Shit,” Ri hisses between clenched teeth. Shuri’s breath is gone, Riri’s squeezing around her just too well.

“R-Ri, I-“

“Go ahead,” Riri’s pussy glistens at you, awaiting Shuri’s next movements. “B-bottom out. I’m good, f-feels good.”

Riri’s ass swallowing Shuri’s cock was a fucking delicious sight. Excitement grew in your stomach, your clit beneath the strap jumping at the sight. Her legs were spread wide as Shuri’s dick disappeared completely into her.

“F-fuck Shuri-“

“Yeah, baby. It’s been a minute, you so fucking tight. C-can I move?”

“Not yet,” you butt in, crawling into the space between Riri’s thighs. Your own cock lined up at her entrance, tip tracing her slit. “Ri?”

“O-oh,” a dry chuckle escapes her. “Y-you’re gonna destroy me, baby.”

Your lips land against hers once more as you will your hips forward, just a bit. “Is that okay?”

Her nod is frantic, “F-fuck yes.”

You’d intended to give her all of you at once, but with Shuri in her as well, you’re met with resistance. Riri has to feel every inch of you penetrate her walls slowly, digging deep. She throws her head back against Shuri’s shoulder, mouth wide open, eyes lazy.

“Oh my god, baby, fuck!”

You stop before you’re fully in, halted by her curses. “Am I hurting you?”

Don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop. Riri’s already gotten a taste of what you were about to give her, she wants it all. Her fingers grab your hips, pulling you closer until you’re hilt deep. “N-no, baby. F-feels good, please, fuck me, fuck me.”

Shuri’s index finger taps your chin, pulling your eyes from Ri and onto her. “You ain’t boss man yet, baby. Follow my rhythm.”

You agree, and pull out at the same time Shuri does. Riri whines, feeling too empty. She needs to be filled again and it doesn’t take long to fulfill her wishes.

Shuri thrusts so you do too. “Fuck!” It’s more growl than moan, but it sounds lovely coming from Ri’s mouth nonetheless.

You’re mimicking Shuri’s movements and Ri is a wet mess between you two. You can feel her, all of her. Her juices are trailing down your cock, her walls squeezing you, and god, they were so soft.

It was like you just melted into her, your moans meshing with hers as though you were the one being fucked.

“Babyyy, you’re doing s-so good, f-fucking me so good,” her words were fuel to your flame. Your fingers tightened around her waist. The pressure of her gripping you, the pressure of Shuri’s cock pressing against yours through the girl between you, my god, it was fucking delicious.

And she was fucking delirious, unable to control the sensation as it ran hot through her body or the incoherent words that ran from her mouth.

“S-so close, so close-“

When Shuri picked up speed, so did you. From the look on her face, full of focus and lust, she was also close.

“D-don’t cum yet, ma. N-not ready to stop.”

You wanted her to hold it? Fuck, fuck that was gonna be hard. Her orgasm was right there, you were grinding into it with your tip, her pussy splashing around your cock, dripping down to Shuri’s.

“O-oh baby, I-I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

Your lower stomach was covered in Riri, the wetness slicking your clit. She couldn’t though. She was already coming, your name on her lips, loud.

“Y/n, baby, oooh, my b-baby, I-I’m f-fucking coming.”

Shuri breaks your rhythm, bouncing Riri on her cock at inhumane speeds, panther-like speeds. You slip out at the swift movements and Ri is free to release, coming, fucking squirting on your torso, soaking you in her stickiness.

“Just y/n, Ri? You only coming for her?”

“N-no, Shuri, fuck, t-too deep-“

She lifts the girl slightly, but doesn’t stop. “Oh now you know my name? Didn’t know it when you were coming, so guess I gotta make you cum again, huh?”

Riri’s trying so hard to squeeze her legs shut, her body too sensitive from the orgasm that just wrecked her. “N-no, sorry, S-Shuri, fuck-“

The panther’s got her canines bared, eyes dark, voice low. “Nah, that’s n-not my fucking name no more, baby-“

Shit, what a fucking sight. Ri’s breasts bounce hard, her little body being thrown into the air, landing back on the entirety of Shuri’s cock.

“I-I’m n-not-“

Shuri showed no mercy, her hand reaching around Riri’s front to swipe at her clit. The overly sensitive bud was already worn out.

You watched, hypnotized, wondering when Riri would crack. Shuri’s eyes met yours and god, her smirk was so sexy. “Like what you see, baby?”

Your nod was slight, lip pulled between your teeth. “Good, cuz you next.”

She turned back to her task at hand, teeth sinking into Riri’s neck, licking away the pain she knew it caused.

“C’mon, baby. Give it to me.”

“F-fuck, Shuri, please-“

Shuri was relentless-her torture wasn’t letting up. “My name, Ri. Say my name baby.”

She had to. Riri knew she had to as her second orgasm tethered near. It was going to rip her apart, Shuri was going to rip her apart. Eyes squeezed shut, cunt leaking once more, she caved. Riri gave in, just as her pussy poured into Shuri’s sheets, her name roaring through the air.

“D-daddy, fuck!”

Shuri was fucking pleased and her cock twitched deep in Riri, spilling her seed into her ass and back all over her dick. “Was that so hard? Huh, baby?”

Riri was silent, body shaking, nut collecting beneath the three of you. She convulsed like she was possessed, mouth wide open, a beautiful contortion on her face.

Her body went limp afterward, falling into the wet comforter beneath her. “Shit-“

Shuri leaned over, a wet kiss falling from her lips and planting on Riri’s. “You called me da-“

“Nigga, no, okay? We don’t speak of it.”

You make your way between their two bodies, having enjoyed the tender moment, even if it was brief. “You did call her daddy, though.”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under, and then some. Riri’s eyes were slits, staring daggers into your head.

Shuri’s lips moved to yours next, “I didn’t know you had all that in you, baby.”

Your blush brought butterflies to the princess’ stomach. “Did I do good? Did you like it?”

Her arms wrap around your body, pulling you on top of hers while Riri scoots closer, kissing down your arm. “You did phenomenally. I fucking loved it, fucking love you.”

“I love y-“

A hard knock cuts your words short. Okoye’s voice rings through the heavy door, “Hey! Yeah, your soundproofing didn’t work, Princess!”

#riri x shuri #shuri udaku #shuri black panther #shuri fic #letitia wright shuri #princess shuri #riri smut #riri williams #riri williams x reader #shuriri x reader #shuriri #shuri smut #black panther smut #shuri x reader #18+ smut #quintessence writes #quintessencewrites #shuri x riri

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peterspinkrobe · 10 months

Text

Miguel, Noir, Peter B x A new spider recruit (F)

Rating/Tags: M for MATURE. 18+. Adult content henceforth. 🔞Three p’s and one v. P in V. Fellatio. Some spanks. Assplay (no anal penetration). Voyeurism. Light bondage. Cunnilingus. Overstimulation (it’s 3 v 1 y’all idk what else is expected). Bodily fluids. Dirty talk makes up most of the dialogue. The dudes do some stuff too. ❤️ Aftercare ❤️ one shot

A/N: I got the prompt from this tweet and wanted to give back to the artist who requested it. There is Spanish in this fic - the artist helped me with the translations soooo much as well and I am forever grateful.😭 English translations at the end. This is my first smut piece, okay? So go easy on me. There is a smidge of plot if you’re really looking for it - I know I put it somewhere around here…

Summary: New recruit for the Spider Society finds herself in a sticky situation with three mentor spideys.

Word Count: 4,660

I’m gonna stfu now and let you read some filth. As always, let me know what you think and thanks for reading.

A dim, neon orange glow emitted from various screens in the large office. Sounds of connecting flesh and obscenities bounce off the walls and echo towards the high ceilings. The new recruit for the elite Spider Society found herself tangled in a particularly intense training that definitely wasn’t in the recruit handbook.

This particular lady spider, from her own universe, traveled through space and time to become a better protector of her neighborhood. She wasn’t sure how these exercises could possibly translate into her line of work saving lives, but she knew exactly how she’d gotten into this position. Well, one of many she’d already been put into.

It was her silly quips. The downfall of most in the Spider Society. The new spider showed a lot of progress in the short time they’d been recruited and had been tasked to go on a mission with the big boys.

It was easy work, the more matured spiders swinging and kicking ass effortlessly. Their personalities shown through in their fighting styles

Peter was loud about it. Of course. Screaming war cries and hitting hard, but holding back. Using insults to hit ‘em where it really hurts a villain: their ego. Miguel seemed cat-like, pouncing and clawing. An occasional roar of frustration would burst through his gritted fangs. Noir was stealthy, and silently snuck up on unsuspecting suspects. His dialect from past times confused the new spider more than Miguel’s Spanish, but it sounded ‘snazzy’ either way.

After wrapping up the mission, the four of them exchanged normal post-fight banter. It was one phrase that made the men stop in their attacks:

I could take all three of you at once.

She’d inadvertently added a qualification to her spoken resume and they were putting it to the test.

The room spun around the dizzy spider trying to steady herself on the large couch cushions. It was in vain, though, for she wasn't going anywhere the hands on her body didn’t make her go. She was stuffed and didn’t think she could hold anything else inside her. Even air. She resorted to the shallow gasps that her body involuntarily released in brief moments of reprieve and breathing through her nose when possible. She moans a string of different names barely recognizable through the mumbling and spit coming out her mouth. Not to mention Peter B’s cock slipping between her lips, a lazy, languid pump into her mouth as his hand caresses her hair. He’d pull out when she tapped on his thigh twice or he wanted to see the strands of saliva droop from his swollen tip connecting to her puffy lips.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice is sweet in juxtaposition to their lewd position, “look at me”. His other hand cupped her chin and pulled her face to look up at him. His slender fingers moving to the side of her face, rubbing his thumb on her cheek. His baby blues watching as her face pushes into his palm from the force behind her.

“Our little spider looks so good like this, doesn’t she?” Peter B was a talker in bed. Duh. The man was a talker in general. His words, no matter how filthy, came out casual and playful. “Taking the both of us so well in her pretty holes.” The vulgarity mixed with the free and easy tone made her pussy squeeze around Miguel’s cock, causing a quick strike on her bent over ass. The stinging cheek was immediately pawed by his large hands.

“Mhmm..” Miguel grunted, not much for words in the bedroom. His sexual language involved less talking and more touching, spanking, and grabbing. “Está apretadito…riquísimo…” When he did speak, he slipped into his native tongue because his mind slipped too. No time for translation as he drove himself into her, hands grabbing her hips. “me vuelves loco” he panted.

His large hands grabbed her ass, making her moan again up at Peter. He thumbs her wet folds and grips tightly - watching as she stretched out on his thick dick with each thrust of his hips. One of his thumbs ghosts across her other puckered hole, rubbing her own slick across the tight entrance.

“Te voy a comer ese culo.” Before she can form any sort of protest, Miguel pulls out without warning. The sudden emptiness made her clench on air and push back against him as a complaint. His hands never left her body and he let her push herself back onto his tongue. She cried out in surprise and pleasure as Miguel hardened his tongue and licked into her dripping pussy. The tongue was quickly replaced by two calloused fingers that pumped and spread inside her already fucked out cunt. His lips latched around the tight pucker of her ass, tongue swirling. Her breathing ragged as the little spider moaned against the bushel of hair above Peter’s still long cock. All she could do was press her face against his belly and arch her back.

“Ooooh, no, you don’t get to have all the fun, Miggy.” Peter chuckled, fucking chuckled down at her as he continued petting her hair. He slipped his thumb into her mouth and he smiled sweetly when she wrapped her lips around the finger. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out her throat as she slobbered on his inquisitive thumb that rubbed the inside of her cheek.

The mouth attached to her released only to growl against her sticky flesh, “Shut up, Peter.”

The giggle upset Miguel; here he was eating ass and she was paying more attention to the skinny nerd at her front. He added another finger and grazed his sharp teeth against the sensitive skin. Shivers shot up her spine and she rolled her eyes in pleasure and annoyance.

Only one coherent thought formed in her hazed mind: the grown ass man we’re even competitive in the bedroom.

Peter didn’t shut up.

“Hey, Noir,” Peter casually tossed the words to the side but kept his gaze on the flushed face and closed eyes that pressed against him. His heavy lidded gaze grazed along the curvy body beneath him as the spider in training rode Miguel’s tongue. He brushed away sweaty strands stuck to her forehead so he could see her pretty lashes. “You ever gonna get in on this? Or are you just going to keep watching from over there?”

Shame had almost escaped the woman stuck between getting rocked and a hard place. She’d taken the tip of the chatterbox’s cock back into her mouth and that silenced him momentarily.

She looked over at the black-clad figure she’d almost forgotten with her lips pouting over the redden head of his friend. He hadn’t made a sound this entire time. Embarrassment eked into her already flushed cheeks as she imagined what a scandalous sight she was to the spider from days gone by.

The man seated on the chair opposite the couch was dangling his arms over bent knees. Noir was still masked, one of the few Spidermen to actually try and maintain a secret identity, and the charcoal colored mask looked from one end of her to the other. He was staring intently at her face at one point, the protruding eye sections reflecting their bodies moving on the couch.

Noir then approached the spread spider and adjusted the protruding lenses of his masked eyes as if they were gasses. His head tilted in intrigue as he heard the deplorable slurping sounds from both ends of her body.

He brings his head to hers, Peter’s cock is inches from his face but he ignores it to intently watch the way her lips wrap around the other Spider-Man’s fingers.

“How ya doin’, buttercup?” His husky voice breathes into her ear. She can’t muster a response other than a shaky nod of her bobbing head and sputters of mewls. The swiping of Miguel’s tongue and approving praise from Peter took up too much of her mind space to formulate any sort of actual reply.

Noir sighed, almost like he was unsatisfied with the reply. He stood and put his hands on hips.

“Fellas… call me old fashioned, but” he glanced at the two men who seemingly ignored the grayscale spider’s intrusion, “You’re both doing this wrong if you’re really tryin’ to shake the shingles off this shack.”

The weird wording made the bundle of naked spiders freeze and lift an eyebrow in unison. Miguel pulled away from her ass and pussy and Peter did the same with the fingers in her mouth. She would’ve buckled had she not been pancaked.

“What the hell do you mean I’m doing this wrong?” Miguel and Peter both responded, offended. The breathless spider couldn’t see the exchange of winks and grins that happened because they were still smushed against Peter’s tummy.

“Hands, legs.” Noir instructed and the trapped spider found themselves pulled up and pressed firmly against Miguel’s chest with their hands clasped together. His large hand grabbed her ankle, a single claw grazing the thin skin there. Another muscled arm snaked around her waist and held her. His strong back supported their bodies against the plush arm of the couch.

She groaned when she realized Peter had slipped a web shooter on and had used them to hold her hands together. Another quick spurt from the smirking man made her arms stick loosely to her chest, just in case. He was always so careful.

But she didn’t mind being confined as long as someone would fucking touch her.

A tiny yelp makes Peter giggle in his relaxed position sitting on the couch head propped against the wall- taking a momentarily step back, but not taking his eyes off the spider caught up in their web.

Noir had snuck in front of her and had his face inches from hers. When Miguel felt her flinch in his grip he huffed a chuckle.

“You both were forgetting to press buttons.” Noir’s fingers cupped the underside of her exposed tits and he flicked his gloved thumbs over her nipples. He was maneuvering skillfully around the bound limbs.

More moans came out, she was finally getting these new set of hands on her. He went to pull up his mask and she kept her eyes glued to his face to finally see what he looked like.

Slate-gray skin was beginning to peek from the curling of the mask, but he shined a wicked gray and pearly white grin when he kept the mask just above his nose. He’d only exposed his jawline and lips, but it was enough to make the little spider’s breath hitch.

His unmasked mouth wrapped around one of her perked nipples and kept pinching the other between his fingers. The gentle sucking sounds made her quiver.

Noir then moved so he was crouched right between her legs, covered eyes taking in the sight of her drip. She noticed his passionate gaze even behind the mask and spread her legs to allow a better view. This earned a grunt in her ear from Miguel who pressed his still hard cock into her back, a soft coo from Peter watching who continued petting her hair, and an approving smile from the striking inky gradient enigma of a man before her.

“Oh, what a piece of honey…” Noir continued in his near century old slang. He took a gloved finger and ran it along the gooey length of her folds, the delicious stripe of friction on her pussy lips made her buck her hips. He stuck the wet finger in his mouth and sucked the leather. “Taste good, sweet spider. Makes me wanna take a bite out of your pretty donut.”

Her eyes roll back at the flattery and Noir speaks again, addressing the two other men, “You forgot a crucial component, pals… the rose bud.”

His tongue instantly found the flower he mentioned and she saw stars. Her clit had been untouched at this point. Not that everything up to this point hadn’t been fucking amazing, but the way the skillful mouth below her expertly tongued and suckled her neglected clitoris made her writhe and wail in ecstasy.

Thank god Lyla had been disconnected because there could be no recording of the blubbering mess the tasty spider became with Noir’s mouth attached to her pussy.

With all the teasing, pounding, and sucking beforehand, the stimulation of the bud of nerves between her legs brought her close to the edge within moments. Noir looked back up at her face and his tongue poked out his sinful smile. He could tell by the way she started thrashing in Miguel’s hold that she was about to crack her marbles. He lapped at her drooling pussy eagerly.

Miguel hissed through gritted teeth at his painfully hard cock. He situated his large body by squatting on the leg closest to the corner of the couch while the other planted firmly on the ground. He grabbed himself and lined it up with the flailing spider in his arm. His other hand came from its grip around her ankle just to grip on her hip. “Fuck, hold still.” Miguel’s tip pushed against her trying to find the spider’s slick slit. It grazed Noir’s chin and neck but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he grabbed Miguel’s dick and guided it into that sticky honey pot. He focused more on the clit as Miguel pumped inside her. Miguel’s moans were loud in her ear with the combined sensation of the tight wetness and Noir’s tongue ghosting the top and sides of his driving dick.

Peter watched in awe, his mouth agape at the alluring sight below him. His hand had a hard hold around the base of his cock, as he squeezed more precum seeped out his blushed tip. He moaned at the sight of Miguel’s cock drilling into the tight pussy and the sounds from the fucked spider as Noir’s mouth encased her clit. Much like Noir, Peter’s tingles were telling him she was close.

“You want to cum for us? You should…” Peter asked and suggested in his playful tone. His oral affixation was apparent as he thumbed the inside of her mouth again. “You’ve been such a good girl.”

“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita”, Miguel grumbled into her ear.

“Mmhmmm.” Noir tried to concur, but his mouth was a little busy. The vibration of his voice against her clit and all three men urging her brought her to that high place.

She cried out their names in no particular order just whatever came out first. She gyrated her shaking body down on Miguel’s pounding cock and Noir’s tongue. Miguel’s movements became feverish causing Noir to pull back, giving her clit some space to breathe after the oral abuse. Peter moved his hand to Miguel’s hair and pulled his head back to look at his face, reminding him to go easy on that pretty push. It was hard for he was nearing his own orgasm, but he slowed to a more delicate pace. The convulsion of her cumming cunt around his cock was too good to pull out of just yet, but Noir spoke out breathlessly.

“I gotta get a taste of this cookie, boss.” He pleaded with the man who currently had her in his grasp. She should’ve hated how they were talking like she wasn’t there at times but she was riding her high and couldn’t be bothered to bicker. She stared through half-lidded, glazed over eyes as Noir pawed the tent in his pants.

“Did you stretch her out for me?” Noir asked as he undid his pants buckle and released a grayish cock as long as Peter’s and as thick as Miguel’s. She moaned as she was coming down from the clouds, eagerly wanting to try this new toy.

Miguel huffed and quickly wrapped his arms under her knees and lifted her effortlessly. His cock rudely pulled out of her and he spread her legs so that Noir could get a better view of the contracting, messy hole. Peter craned his neck so he could see as well.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he said to no one in particular from his perch. He had started pumping his cock as he watched her orgasm.

Noir admired the site up close and licked the fucked out hole causing the spider to shake. She was blushing from all the eyes and attention on her in her exposed state, but they were all looking in amazement.

She pouted and when Noir saw both sets of her puckered lips he wasted no time placing the thick tip of his uncut cock at the gaping entrance of her gooey hole.

“Now, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to tell me if it’s too much, but I think you can handle it. You’re going to do that again for me.” He pushed himself into her full flush easily with the help of Miguel’s propped arms holding her up. Her mouth formed a silent scream and she tossed her head back when he picked up the speed.

Miguel moaned and his still hard cock pressed against her ass cheeks in this position. “Que culo..” he mused as he slid his cock to line up with the wet folds of her cheeks. He started slowly fucking between her cheeks until his tip hit Noir’s pumping cock.

“Oh, fuuuck, baby girl..” Peter admired her body as he picked up the pace on his own strokes. “Can you take another? Please?”

He begged as he brought his cock back to her lips, biting his bottom lip hard and groaning when, instead of replying, she desperately took him into her mouth, eager to be completely full.

Peter thought he had the best seat in the house with his dick in her mouth and the sight of Noir and Miguel ravaging her body. He talked more and more as he got closer to cumming.

“You’re taking us so good. Such a good girl. You should see yourself. Look so sexy when you’re filled up.”

Noir kept his speed and force consistent when he surprised the spider again by rubbing his thumb just above her clit. He captured her lips with his own and she breathed her heavy moans into his mouth.

She was back to struggling for air with most of her holes plugged. Miguel’s thickness running between her legs offered a new feeling of friction while Noir’s length was taking some getting used to. Peter didn’t move his hips in caution of overwhelming the overloaded woman taking him in her mouth so well.

“Cum for me. Again.” He gently urged. The three other spiders all moaned in unison at Noir’s word for they were all on their brink. He chuckled, “all of you. Let’s fill this baby up.”

The idea of filling her pussy up with his load made Miguel’s hips snap quickly until he was spilling all over her ass, pussy lips, and leaking onto Noir. The thumb on her clit and the sounds of the man below her brought her back over the edge again. The pornographic imagery, sounds of a heated Miguel, the alluring control Noir had over them, and the split spider’s orgasms brought him to his own climax. He tried to pull out her mouth but she wrapped her lips around him tightly and he cried out as he came. He was talking again in seconds.

“Fuuuck, so sexy.. taking it all in like that.”

Noir took it all in with a grin. Feeling Miguel’s sipperly spunk mixing with the delicious drool he was driving into. A little bit of Peter B’s butter spilled out of the split spider’s mouth and Noir swiped at it with his gloved thumb before presenting it to her to suck on. The sounds only encouraged him to pump harder. “I wanna paint this cabin, doll. Can I?”

Noir tapped gently on the bundle of nerves that were on fire with the question, causing the spread spider to spaz in the hold of the three others.

The spent spider thought nothing, only felt. Sensation was the only presence in her consciousness as Miguel slid his slowly shrinking dick between her thighs and plump cheeks. Peter’s praise echoed from one ear to the other making her blush more than the promiscuous positions she’d been put in this evening.

He had her right where he wanted her - how he’d been picturing her since he met her for the first time: Whimpering and shaking on the verge of implosion.

Noir’s imagination painted an inky image of the next time with this ripe peach. His grayscale vision pictured them alone in all the ways he wanted her. The thought nearly made him burst and paint her insides instead.

Until he pulled out and jerked himself twice before cumming all over the spent spider’s tummy and tits. His audience of three all moaned with him as sticky ropes shot over the smooth skin of her abdomen.

Senseless spider still had her legs hiked up and she hung her head to the side towards Peter who was massaging her scalp and murmuring sweet nothings towards the group. Miguel’s heavy breathing was coming down as he gently lowered her onto the couch and easily slipped from behind her, regretting it the moment her body wasn't pressed against his own. Miguel used one of his claws and cut through Peter’s webbing and carefully pulled it from her, placing her arms by her sides.

Noir marveled at her in this state. Fucked out and smothered with lovin’. He helped Miguel lower her legs and eased their bent and spread joints. He rubbed along the length of her leg and said something to his boss unheard to the mewling spider on the couch.

They left the room shortly after, but she didn’t notice.

Only aware of the aching she felt… not from the intense session, those stings wouldn’t be felt until tomorrow, but from the emptiness inside her and lack of body support she had just moments ago. She had leaned on their strong scaffolding entirely and now slumped from their missing support. Peter’s hand in her hair kept her grounded as she

Her eyes blinked open slowly and she was greeted with those baby blues smiling at her as Peter had perched himself beside her on the floor.

“You really did so good.” He examined her glistening face and body in its afterquakes of orgasm.

Puffy lips redden around the edges, matted hair, slumped body: what a site to behold. He felt lucky as he brought up his previously discarded shirt to clean her chest and belly. She started to push it away, the disheveled man didn’t have many clean clothes to begin with, but he simply leaned to kiss her forehead and continued to wipe up some of the mess made.

“You took such good care of us, sweetie,” his voice was slightly raspy but still flirtatious, “it’s our turn to take care of you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Miguel and Noir returned to the room, they were met with the sight of a lightly sleeping spider and their counterpart stroking her hair and smiling at her.

Miguel suggested they let her sleep, get her strength back, but Noir was insistent.

“This is the most important part, boss.” Noir asserted.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleepy spider was coming to again swaying slightly in the arms of the tallest in the trio walking down the short hallway.

“Bella Durmiente,” Miguel cooed. He had been watching her face as he carried her to the bathroom in his large office and when her lashes parted and fluttered open to look up at him his chest tightened.

“Such a cutie, even when she snores.” Peter beamed over Miguel’s shoulder as if he were carrying a kitten in his cradled arms.

Miguel carried her into the bathroom and she looked around at lights moving on the walls. It wasn’t tricks of Miguel’s futuristic decor, but rather several lit pillar candles flickering and casting soft shadows of the four of them.

The new recruit had fully come down from her delirium from earlier, but more flush came to her face as Miguel placed her into a clawfoot tub. It was huge. It had to be to house the large man that was sinking her into the shoulder deep water.

The bath was so warm. Hot even. It wasn’t too hot for her though as she awkwardly grabbed the edges of the tub, even though Miguel was oh so careful. Heaps of bubbles rounded the edge and she focused on the fizzling I ward off the feeling of three sets of eyes on her.

Miguel’s hands returned to her body as he rested on his knees beside the tub. He had already saturated a soft wash cloth in soap and was gently rubbing it on her skin, starting with her painted abdomen. He was reaching towards her lower half when his brows furrowed slightly in concentration on her face, watching her reactions. He barely patted her sensitive inner thighs with the rag but pulled away when she winced.

“Lo siento, arañita.” Miguel remorsed. She responded softly, saying she was fine.

“You really took a beating, dollface,” Noir agreed. He’d taken the knee himself at the end of the tub. His gloves were off, sleeves rolled up, and with surprisingly soft hands he reached into the bubble bath and rubbed the swooning spider’s feet. “You sure you okay, sugar?”

She responded by shyly nodding and sinking her head under the water down to her nose, her eyes moving from each man’s face. She saw that Peter had mirrored the others’ posture and positioned himself at the head of the tub. His chin rested on his arm laid out on the tub’s rim. His other arm reached out and idly traced circles on the surface of the water. He had grown uncharacteristically quiet while watching the peaceful scene unfold in front of him.

She poked her mouth out the water and timidly said, “You guys don’t have to do all this, I can bathe myself…”

She wasn’t uncomfortable, just not used to this kind of care and attention. Especially three fold. Moments ago she was nearly shameless in her entanglement of limbs and fluids. However, this was treatment that was normally forgotten or shrugged off at the end of a long session. She could handle the smacks and fingers grabbing and leaving small bruises. Intimate connection was a whole different level of consideration she simply didn’t know how to react to.

The three men ignored her as they continued their self-delegated duties. The silence wasn’t unnerving but actually tolerable and she felt herself slipping again at the pampering pressing on the pads of her feet.

The large hands lifting limbs and reaching to cleanse her completely calmed her body that had been thrashing not too long ago.

The usual quips from the mouthy spider had been replaced with sweet pokes at her cheeks and shoulders followed by giggles from them both. They playfully splashed each other. Even though the brooding one rolled his eyes at the clothes he just changed into getting wet, he wished he could record the moment and have it on a loop for those especially difficult days protecting the multiverse.

The black-clad spider pressed along the sweet spider’s feet once more before blending into the background again. The glimmering candles quickly swiped from his era framed his silhouette as he retreated a moment.

He returned with a towel in one hand and a certain pink robe that had been tossed to the ground in the fun from before in the other hand. He smiled softly behind his mask at the scene in front of him: sweet spider back to smiling and laughing.

He nodded to himself in pride.

The most important part.

🕷️🕸️🕷️

__________ __________ __________ __________

Spanish translation (THANK YOU AGAIN @ejpuki on Twitter and my cousin lol):

“Está apretadito…riquísimo..” (she’s so tight,… so fucking hot)

“me vuelves loco” (you drive me crazy)

“Te voy a comer ese culo.” (going to eat that ass)

“Quiero que te vengas en mi verga, arñita” (I want you to cum on my dick, little spider)

“Que culo..” (that ass)

“Bella Durmiente” (Sleeping Beauty 🥹)

“Lo siento, arañita.” (I’m sorry, little spider)

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #spiderman noir #peter b parker #across the spiderverse #atsv smut #priest!Miguel was NOWHERE near this okay??#smut #female reader #3 v 1 #I think I could take ‘em #not in a fight

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princesssmars · 1 year

Text

late night visitors

a ladynoir x reader

most people don't get visited by paris's notorious superheroes at night. luckily, you're not most people.

wc : 1982

contains : fluff. just a bunch of fluff ngl. polyamory. mari and adrien's ages arent stated but they grew up with me in my head so they're about 17/18 here idc.

f/f - favorite flowers

a/n : we love starting a fic and not finishing it until a year later <3 i made this short (?) and sweet before i went overboard. enjoy :)

one thing paris didn’t get enough credit for was its quietness. during the day the city bustles, each arrondissement’s streets filled with tourists and families enjoying the city of love. but you loved it at night. the air grows cold and the roads are deserted, only a few stragglers walking about. the city lights twinkle against the skyline and blend into the clear night sky to create your favorite sight.

you had spent a while sitting on your balcony and just enjoying it, having finished your homework and chores and ready to just be. you let all of your worries about school and friends and villains go and finally relaxed, staying outside for an hour before heading off inside for a night of rest.

tap tap tap.

you grumble, slowly rising from your sleep at the sudden noise you've heard at the other end of the rom. sitting up and rubbing at your eyes, you look around your bedroom to pinpoint where the disturbance came from. from what you can see in the dark nothing fell from your bed, and your closet and bedroom doors are closed so that only leaves one other spot.

tap tap tap.

letting out a huff of air through your nose, you rise from your bed and throw on your robe, quickly noting the alarm clock on your dresser telling you its already past midnight, before moving to the window that looks into your balcony.

not able to see anything, you carefully open the door, shivering and only stopping for a second to again look at the beautiful view of paris before looking around your balcony, only to see a small flower pot that rose had gifted you knocked over.

figuring it to be some dumb bird or a stray, you turn back towards your room just to see a giant pair of bright green eyes staring right into your soul.

it’s pure luck that you're able to muffle your short scream in your hands to not wake and alarm your parents and half the of the arrondissement. unluckily, paris’ beloved hero chat noir is on the brink of laughing his stupid leather-covered ass off.

he somehow manages to calm down, but that means now he’s talking. and god help you when chat noir decided to speak.

"i knew you could be jumpy when scared but you leaped higher than a startled cat! you should've seen it!"

he makes more jokes and lets out little laughs as you stand still in front of him, glaring at him in your pajamas. the fact that your bottoms were covered in pink cupcakes didn't help your case.

“if you seriously woke me up at midnight just to tease and laugh at me so help me god chat,” you squint your eyes in a warning, barely noticing the figure cloaked in red and black sliding up to your side.

“nope, we brought something else,” you hear whispered into your ear. not flinching this time, be it because you were too pissed off or less on edge from the last time. you turn and smile softly when soft baby blue eyes meet your own. “how was your day, mon cheri?”

you hum as your hands find their way around her shoulders and hers wrap around your middle, “better now that you're here, can't say the same for others though.” ladybugs body rocks with a silent laugh as chat looks at the two of you shocked.

he goes off into one of his usual dramatic rants about how the “loves of my life have left me behind for each other! the stereotypes are true!” as you both watch him in amusement.

“alright fine, you big oaf. get in here,” you sigh, moving your arm from around ladybug to open in his direction. he puts on his model-worthy blinding smile and rushes into the hug, squeezing the both of you and raising you off the ground. sometimes you forgot how strong they could be.

during the day, marinette and adrien were the pinnacles of perfectly normal teenagers. it’d been an honor to not only see them grow up from stumbling middle schoolers bestowed with unfathomable power to where they are today.

when you first met mari you thought she was weird, to put it frankly. you’d reflected on how nervous she would get around you and adrien and how you caught her following you a few times, much to her embarrassment at the memories. but after giving her a chance at the behest of alya you found out how amazing she could be. she was incredibly smart, excelling in her studies and being the group's designated tutor. it was only during one of your late-night tutoring sessions, the blue-haired girl smiling at you sweetly and praising you when you got a problem wrong, that you realized you had feelings for her.

and adrien was so radiant it was scary. you figured since he was rich and childhood friends with chloe bourgeois of all people that he’d be another snob for you to ignore. but then that day happened when chloe was jealous of all the attention you were getting on your new hairstyle and dumped a tiny carton of milk on your head. normally you didn't let her get to you, but you couldn't help but tear up and run to hide in an empty classroom. it wasn't until a little later that a soaking-wet adrien sat down next to you, telling you he was sorry for what chloe did, and said “if she’s going to bully my friends, she’ll have to do the same to me.”

after that, it was hard not to harbor feelings for the two of them, and you were so glad when they confessed not only to each other but to you as well. you weren't expecting the whole superhero reveal thing, though. but it warmed you inside to know they trusted you enough with this secret.

“let’s head inside, its getting colder and i don't want you to get sick.” ladybug pulls out of the hug, holding the back of her hand up to your head.

“i’m fine, bug,” you assure her, pulling her hand away and smiling at the way her cheeks tint pink. “what’d you bring me?”

ladybug waves her hand to chat, the boy coming up behind you before your vision goes dark with his hands covering your eyes. you hear the sound of ladybug’s yoyo, then the familiar whssh of her body traveling through the air.

“can you give me a hint at least?” you plead. its been a solid three minutes of waiting for marinette to come back and the excitement is making you antsy. not to mention your leather-clad boyfriend standing right behind you.

“no can do, babe. we both know you'll figure it out and then ladybug will figure out that you've figured it out and then she figures out its because i told you and then-”

“ok ok! i get it! ill wait patiently.”

luckily you don't have to wait long, chat removing his hands to show you marinette standing in front of you holding a bouquet of f/f and a box of your favorite pastries.

“i made them this morning so they'd be fresh in case something happened, thank god we only had to deal with some thieves.” marinette hands you the flowers, the pair of them thankful when you bring them up and take in a deep inhale of their scent, holding them close to your chest.

“i wouldn't call ten men breaking into the louvre just any regular thieves, my lady.” chat chuckles.

ladybug shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

she shrugs. “didnt seem so tough to me.”

“c'mon you two, lets head inside before some insomniac catches a picture of you two.”

they follow you inside, the both of them able to sneak well after years of practice. you put the flowers in a spare vase on your dresser, gently placing them inside with a smile. you hear a slight smack followed by a 'ow!’ and a laugh. you turn to see your girlfriend scowling at your boyfriend, whose mouth is stuffed with one of the pastries.

“i made them for y/n! at least let her have the first one.” ladybug chastises him, setting the box down on a coffee table before sitting on your white chaise.

chat ignores her, too entranced by the deliciousness of her baking. “whatever you say, buggaboo.”

you smile, loving to watch how they interact with each other. they worked so well together, and sometimes when you admired them it seemed like they were made for each other. if it wasnt so sweet you’d be more jealous, but they never made you feel excluded.

“ill go put these in your kitchen so you can have them for breakfast.” chat puts some of the pastry on a napkin and leaves it on the table for you before picking up the box and slinking out of your door with a wink.

you send him an appreciative smile, looking to the side to see ladybug still slightly pouting.

“its fine bug, i appreciate it no matter what,” you sit down next to her, reaching up to take her mask off as her baby blue eyes look at you fondly. “ill have to repay you somehow. just tell me what and its yours.”

mari looks at you silently for a few seconds more before brining up her hand to cup your face and bringing you in for a sweet kiss. mari's kisses were some of your favorites, the girl always making sure to assert herself as ladybug and it travels into her intimacy.

you pull away reluctantly, her looking at you with a lovestruck grin.

“you already repay me by being mine, mon cheri.” she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your warm cheek. you start to flirt back when a force plops onto the chaise next to you, a mop of blonde hair landing into your lap.

“i second what she said, my love. only if i get some kisses too obviously.” adrien says, his mask now off to show off his dazzling emerald eyes.

you roll your eyes in playful annoyance but relent, leaning down to give him a kiss as well. adrien’s kisses are just as amazing as mari’s but they feel…desperate. not in the way he kissed you when he underestimated a villain and nearly lost his life, rushing back to your apartment and kissing you before holding you in a tight embrace for an hour.

he was desperate for physical touch, the reminder that he’s yours and your his and that you wont leave him. but no matter how much the two of you pretend to be exasperated at his constant touches and flirting, you want to assure him that you’ll always be here for him no matter what.

the kiss ends and you nearly giggle from the sight of his dopey grin and hooded eyes, quickly widening when mari roughly grabs his cheeks and kisses him dramatically.

“there, happy not, kitty?” she asks, the boy laying limp across your lap.

“yup. perfect.”

after a minute of mari teasing chat for his dopey reaction to your kisses and adrien pointing out how she acts the exact same, the time of night catches up with you and you feel your eyes start to droop. just when you feel the lull of sleep taking you away, a strong pair of arms lifting you up and placing you in bed. when they start to pull away, you tiredly reach your arm out to hold their wrist, whispering a quiet “stay.”

thankfully your loves cant say no to you, the two of them resting on top of the covers as they cuddle you from either side.

its quiet as they stay with you, and you’ve never loved the quiet of the city more.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain cheng x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #ladynoir #ladynoir x reader #adriennette #adrienette x reader

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