#resisting the urge to draw them having hate sex

[nursekitties]

“You stole my bounty, Alucard!”

Still heavy on the Hellsing brain rot atm… I still don’t have a name for my OC, but it’s probably between Constance, Minerva, or Maude. Thoughts?

#hellsing oc #fanart #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #hellsing alucard #alucard #oc art #original character #my ocs #oc x canon #oc #they hate each other #but they’re so in love #resisting the urge to draw them having hate sex #grrrrrrr

[xcherryerim]

Intoxicating Admiration

gn!reader vocalist x hard!dom Billy | word count: 2.7k

“Short breathes a whisper, and everythings new. Your still thoughts, cant walk.” — Where The Night Ends by Together Pangea

SMUT ONE SHOT - MDNI | 18+ ONLY

Warning: choking, oral sex (only Billy womp womp) | quicky, unprotected sex (I can’t stress this enough y’all, wear condoms pls) | Penetration (no genitalia specified) | tying up reader’s wrist | porn with plot. | Car sex.

Notes: Wrote this a long time ago and I revised it like 2 times so… sorry for the repeated words and stuff :)

Also, the song reader sings is the one I linked at the beginning! You don’t have to listen to it but yk…

Summary: Running from the police, Billy finds himself hiding in a grunge bar, unsure of what to do next. He decides to stay for a little while longer and as he watches your band's performance, He is instantly drawn to you.

Billy's attempt to rob a gas station had gone wrong. The adrenaline pumping through his body kept him going for a while, but soon his legs gave out and he was forced to stop. On the run, he approached a strange bar that looked grunge and worn-out. But he had nowhere else to go, so he snuck inside to hide from the police and plan his next move.

Billy felt out of place in this dark and messy-looking bar, not used to its laid-back atmosphere compared to typical barn-looking ones. He'd been here for almost an hour and couldn't think of a good reason to stay. Even though the police were probably no longer searching for him, something was telling him to stay.

Everyone was watching him, some checking him out while others judging his cowboy-looking attire, but he didn't care. He was drowning in his regrets. It was all caused because he chose to get involved with those bikers, and now he was living off of stolen money. He hated it, hated his life, his choices, and himself. But it was too late to make things right, he was too deep in it now.

Out of sheer frustration, Billy blurted out "What do you want?" when someone stared at him.

The sudden outburst sent them jumping away, startled. After that, Billy sighed and ordered another scotch. His thoughts were plagued by doubt and uncertainty. He couldn't figure out how he'd get back home, how he'd pay off his debt with the bikers, or what to do with his life. He was overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness and just wanted to forget it all with alcohol.

Billy was too immersed in his thoughts to notice the subtle change in the lighting, or how the other people in the bar were focused on the stage. The loud electric guitars pierced his ears, drawing his attention toward the stage. He turned his face with annoyance and confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening. The bar was no longer a casual, laid-back environment, but a scene for a performance.

You started playing your guitar abruptly as the cues for the song came in. Your fingers moved gracefully and fluidly to the beats of your bandmates, weaving an intricate mesh of rhythm and melody. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, filled with equal parts of anxiety and excitement as you knew your turn to sing was just a few moments away. You needed to put on a good performance, for the sake of the band and your reputation.

“Your long stares. You don't care. I know you want to. Short breathes a whisper.”

Billy was unsure how to react. Alternative music wasn't his thing, it was too loud and too chaotic. But there was something about the vocalist that captivated him. He couldn't quite explain it - it was as if the sound of your voice and your presence lured him in, taking control of his senses. The sight was addictive, intoxicating, and beautiful. Billy felt a strange tug inside him, urging him closer and closer, and for some reason, he couldn't resist.

Billy grabbed his scotch and navigated through the crowd, pushing people out of his way in a desperate effort to get as close as possible to the stage. The lure of the vocalist was overpowering and he had to get closer, even if it meant trampling on other people. The scotch was the only thing helping him maintain his composure, but all the alcohol in the world couldn't stop his mind from spinning and his heart from pounding.

As the lights change color and intensity, you suddenly notice an unfamiliar face in the crowd. The man is staring at you with a passionate, adoring look, his gaze fixed on you. You're not sure if it's your actual self or your performance persona, but you decide to wink at the cowboy-looking fella, encouraging the admiration. You keep on singing, your voice echoing through the entire bar, but you can't help but be aware of his presence, the intensity of his stare, and the heat his gaze is bringing.

“I wanna have you. Tell me where the night ends.”

Once you winked at Billy he felt so intoxicated, so much that the rest of the world faded. His vision was clouded, and he could see nothing but you. Every movement was hypnotic, and the vocals were perfect. Your voice was calling him, calling him to get closer, and no matter how much he fought it, it overpowered him.

You saw him, and you loved the reaction he had toward you. You couldn't help but smile and shake your head lightly, trying to dismiss him. However, his presence was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. You took a deep breath and belted out the high note, hoping it would catch his attention. But instead of looking at him, you focused on the performance, giving it your all. Despite wanting to acknowledge his admiration, you couldn't afford to lose focus on your performance.

As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted in cheers, their energy and excitement overflowing. You took the microphone and named the band once again, acknowledging the crowd for their support. However, amidst the celebrating and revelry, the mysterious man remained still, his eyes never swaying from you, his gaze fixed and intense.

After the show, you gathered some of your equipment and started cleaning up, but one of your bandmates stopped you in your tracks. "Hey, go get a drink, you deserve it. I'll pay." You wanted to say no, but after the demanding performance and the pressure of trying to impress the cowboy guy, you accepted. Walking to the bar section, your mind wandered back to that man with the intense gaze.

As you turned your head to the right Billy approached you with confidence, settling himself in the seat next to you. His face was full of a sense of determination and conviction as if he'd been waiting for this very moment.

"Hey," he said, as his gaze bore into you, searching for a reaction. "Would you mind if I join you for a drink?"

The way he looked at you instantly sparked a flicker of excitement deep within you. "Sure," you replied with a calm smirk on your face, playing it cool.

“I loved your performance.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it," you added, your eyes never leaving him for a second. In this moment, he was all you could see.

The details of his appearance, from his bruised knuckles to the way his veiny hands played with the rim of the glass, stirred up something inside you. Your head was wondering about the possibility of what those hands could do, and you were overcome with temptation. The intensity of the heat he was radiating made it impossible to stay seated, and your body was beckoning you to be closer to him.

I'm Billy," he introduced, extending his hand towards you. You shook it, your fingers brushing against his, and felt an electric current run through you. You couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his bruised knuckles, wondering about the story behind them.

You introduced yourself back, your voice low and sultry, matching his intensity. You took a sip from your drink and gestured towards your bandmates. "We usually hang out here after the show, care to join us?"

The heat of his breath hit you, bringing a shiver to your spine. He leaned even closer, his face just inches away from yours. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and something about the intensity of this encounter was drawing you closer.

He spoke in a soft yet commanding tone. "I'd love to. But I prefer spending some time alone with you if you don't mind…”

The way he leaned in made you catch your breath, and his words just added to the intensity of the situation. Your mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process what his words meant. You played dumb as if you didn't know exactly what he was implying. You sipped your drink for another moment, hoping to calm your nerves and not appear too flustered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you asked, acting innocent as you raised an eyebrow.

His gaze was intense, his words low and seductive, bringing a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours.

"It means that I find you irresistible," he said, his voice rumbling through you. "I want to know more about you without prying eyes." He raised his glass to his lips, taking another sip, but his eyes were never leaving yours.

You felt your heart race at his words, a flush spreading across your cheeks. "You know, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, but you had to be cautious.

He spoke in a soft yet commanding whisper that made you tremble from the intensity. "Let me show you a good time," he murmured, sending shivers through your body. You were powerless in this moment, swept up by the passion and overwhelming attraction you felt for him.

The heat and tension were overwhelming, and the adrenaline rushed through you as everything unfolded quickly. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the backseat of your car, with Billy next to you. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of forbidden desire and overwhelming chemistry, creating a steamy and passionate atmosphere.

Billy spread, comfortable in the backseat of your car as he looked at you. He was relaxed and confident, but something about the atmosphere still felt forbidden and naughty. His words were flirtatious, with a hint of arrogance, but his tone was teasing and playful. "I don't bite,"

“But what if I want you to?” Your teasing response took things to the next level. It was a simple, yet charged statement, making him wonder just how desperate you were for anything he'd do.

He grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, finally giving in to his desire to kiss you. Your bodies were pressed into each other, skin against skin, as the heat and intensity of the moment swelled and surged between you. His kisses were passionate and demanding, leaving your lips tingling. As he sucked and bit into your lower lip, you could feel the sting mixed with the rush of pleasure coursing through your body.

His rough hands gently grazed your neck, not too tightly but firmly enough to leave a lasting impression. The light choking sensation only added to the intensity of the connection.

"You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat," Billy murmured.

With shaking hands, you tugged at his belt buckle, desperate to feel his heat against your fingertips. As you pulled his pants down, his cock sprung free, twitching in anticipation. It was even bigger and thicker than you imagined, and your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him.

You leaned in closer, taking in his musky scent as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Your tongue swirled around the sensitive skin, tasting the mixture of pre-cum and salty skin. With each passing moment, you took more of him into your mouth, savoring the feel of his hardness against your softness.

Your hands roamed over his thighs, up his abdomen, and finally rested on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat against your palms. His hips bucked forward, pushing his cock deeper into your throat, and you gagged slightly before pulling back to catch your breath.

With a lustful growl, he reached down and gripped your hair, pulling your head back towards his cock. "Suck it," he demanded, his voice rough with need. You complied, taking him deeper into your throat, bobbing your head up and down as you worked him.

You could feel his length throbbing in your mouth, his desire pulsing through you. His hands were in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper into your throat. You could feel him twitching, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Billy's breath hitched, and he groaned, his hips bucking against your mouth. "Fuck, you're good at this," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've never had anyone suck me off like this before."

With a moan of pleasure, you pulled back slightly, your eyes never leaving Billy's. His cock twitched in anticipation as he gripped your wrists tightly with his belt. You couldn't help but grin, the feeling of being restrained only adding to the excitement.

"Please," You whispered around his hardness. "Do it." You begged, your voice shaky with desire. With that, Billy pushed your wrists together even tighter, the leather digging into your skin. The pain was nothing compared to the pleasure you felt as he thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into your mouth.

You sucked harder, taking him as far down your throat as you could. His hips pounded against your face, the slapping sound echoing in the car. Slowly, he pulled your head back, releasing your mouth from him.

Billy’s hand closed around the leather belt that encircled your wrist. With a swift tug, he pulled you closer to him, the rough texture of the belt against your bare skin sending shivers down your spine.

As he sat you on his lap, his hard cock, already leaking precum, rubbed against your entrance. You could feel the heat emanating from it, the anticipation of what was to come almost unbearable.

He spat into his hands, the saliva glistening in the dim light. With rough fingers, he spread the moisture around your entrance, preparing you for his entry. You arched your back instinctively, begging for him to take you.

Finally, he positioned himself, his cockhead teasing. With a forceful thrust, he pushed inside you, filling you up in one swift motion. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, your body adjusting to the sudden intrusion. His hips pounded against your back, driving him deeper with each passing second.

“Your thighs are shaking so much,” Billy added.

You couldn't help but laugh, your body still adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. "I can't help it," you panted. "It's been a while since I've been fucked this hard."

Billy's hips pounded harder, his thrusts growing more demanding. Each time he pushed into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You gripped the seat, your nails digging into the rough fabric, as you arched your back, begging for more.

Your breath hitched as you watched him, his eyes locked onto yours. His voice was thick with lust as he groaned, "You feel so good. I'm not going to last much longer."

"Don't stop," you whispered, your voice shaking with desire. "I want you to come inside me."

The words sent a jolt of excitement through him, and he thrust into you harder. His cock throbbed inside you, filling you to the brim. With a primal roar, Billy let himself go, emptying himself inside you.

"Damn, that was good," Billy panted, his breath ragged as he pulled out of you. You could feel the stickiness of his come between your legs, the evidence of your passion.

You grinned, your heart racing. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you said, your voice low and sultry. "But I think it's time for me to go."

“No,” Billy wrapped his arms around you, his body leaning into you as his lips kissed your back. The way he held you was comforting and protective, but there was also a sense of possessive desire in his behavior.

“How about we go back to my place?”

It was clearly what Billy was trying to do. His question brought you back to reality, and the urge to be alone with him for the rest of the night overtook you. You wanted to go with him, to be with him, to be his, at least for the whole night.

“Fine.”

The heat and excitement of the moment had passed, but the passion and desire remained. You quickly changed back into your clothes, adjusting them as best as you could. Billy followed your example, getting himself ready as he sat next to you in the passenger seat.

“Good,” He leaned in again, pressing his lips against yours, taking control of the situation. That single kiss was an indication of what was to come.

“because I’m not done with you.”

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed this 🫶🏻 … Part 2?

If you only want to see my smut work, consider following @xxxcherryerim where I reblog my work!

tag list: @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo (If you want to be added to my tag list let me know!)

#billy burn x you #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn 2019 #billy x reader #billy burn #billy parks #smut writing #mike schimdt smut #josh futturman smut #derek danforth smut #clapton davis smut

[mimimyluv]

Hetalia y/n’s have to stand together, how about England x Reader where y/n admires his tattoos?

anon bless your heart because this lead me down a path of picturing arthur as a prep with secret tattoos and i promptly blacked out. when i woke up i ended up with this oneshot. i hope you enjoy and may your meals always be delicious and your pillow always cold (or warm depending on how you like it lol). also i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, so it's sfw (just to be safe). but it's still suggestive. if you wanted full-blown smut tho just lmk 👍

⏆﹒⬚﹒🍏﹒➲﹒reader admiring arthur's tattoos; gn! reader (nothing specified), 800 words/4k characters, fluff with some suggestive themes. lowercase intended.

the contrast is interesting, you muse.

your lover’s always projected a proper– if not a tad pretentious– image of the quintessential upper-class english man. he has all his clothes and shoes tailored; every thread and button perfectly bespoke (the extra costs just for suit jackets can be somewhat incomprehensible, but he always assures you it is a perfectly good investment. you never complain too much– not when he’s so damn handsome in those same bespoke suits).

he drinks his tea with a pinky up; always, always with the fine, intricately painted porcelain (an antique dating back to the victorian era, he often tells you).

he rubs elbows with the upper echelons of london society; engaging in those stereotypical, hoity-toity activities only people with money to burn can do (polo, horseback riding, fucking golf… it would make you laugh if it weren’t for his tall, elegant frame, with the lean, subtle musculature of the ideal english sportsman).

but beneath that proper exterior, though– there’s something more passionate, something more untamed lurking. while arthur often keeps that side of him under wraps, you have the privilege of being privy to it in numerous ways.

you’re reminded of it as you laze next to him in his sheets, basking in the post-sex afterglow. his back is to you, you can fully take in the smattering of golden freckles across his fair skin, and… oh.

“i haven’t seen this one before.”

you trace your fingers along the merfolk inked on his back. you try to summon some hazy memories from a past gallery date with arthur– ah, yes. it’s a near-identical replica of john william waterhouse’s mermaid, except…

it’s you. replacing the mermaid combing her long, auburn hair is you. you’re in that same, languid pose, with just a long white fabric draped tightly along your body to preserve the barest modicum of modesty. somehow, though– with the sultriness of your eyes, the curve of your bare neck and shoulders– this remaster of waterhouse’s mermaid somehow seems more… suggestive.

“do you like it?” he murmurs, turning over to face you. his forest-green eyes are lidded, light, feathered lashes nearly resting on the top of his freckled cheeks. this is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him; your heart leaps for a split second.

“a tattoo of me?” you say, mock-dryly. still, your face is warm, and you can’t help but smile. “i thought you hated cliches.”

“ah, well.” suddenly, he’s blushing too. his freckles are even more stark against his skin; you barely resist the urge to trace your thumb all over them. “some… can be alright.”

you grin.

“when did you get this?”

“a few weeks after our date to the tate.”

you can’t help but snort out a laugh, fond.

“and you said you were done with tattoos, hm?”

“when i saw that painting,” the pinkness of his cheeks deepen, “i just couldn’t stop seeing you. so one last tattoo couldn’t hurt, i suppose.”

“mhm, it’s not like i mind,” you whisper, drawing a hand down to trace the tudor roses and ivy inked along his ribs, “you know i love your tattoos, arthur.”

“perhaps that’s why i had it done,” he laughs raspily, “you might only want me for my tattoos. needed something to keep the spark alive, don’t you think, my dear?”

“don’t be an idiot.” you lightly chastise him, then draw him closer for a kiss, bracing him by your hand on the back of his head. unlike the heated, passionate kisses you two shared earlier, he moves his mouth against yours slowly and indulgently; the kind of kiss that could lull you to slumber after a long day.

“let me see it again, then.” you say against his lips, quiet and muffled. he smirks, uncharacteristically roguish.

“i believe you just proved my earlier point.”

“oh, shut up.”

he complies anyway, shifting so you can see his back; this time, you can study it more clearly. your face, stark as day– maybe it’s corny, but you can’t help the way your heart leaps at the sight. proper, upper-class arthur kirkland being lovestruck enough to have you permanently inked on his skin, even when he’s eschewed tattoos and everything that can be linked to delinquency in favor of his image. there’s just something truly… amazing about it.

“i wanna see the rest.” you mumble. he rolls over, pretending to grumble.

“maybe you really are just with me for my tattoos, love.”

you ignore him and look over the rest of his tattoos– the tudor roses and ivy on his ribs; the plantagenet lions on his left shoulder; a hobbes’ quote– a great leap in the dark– on his right forearm.

and now, the portrait of you as waterhouse’s mermaid on his back.

“i do love your tattoos, arthur.” you quietly repeat, settling down next to him. you draw nearer, hooking a leg over his body and resting your head against his chest; his heartbeat thrums in a consistent pitter-patter right next to your ear.

“but i love you more.”

he’s silent, but he combs his fingers– long, graceful, and work-worn– through your hair.

“i love you too.”

“yeah.” you smile drowsily. you can see yourself as a merfolk in your hazy mind's eye, forever inked on his back. “i know.”

#i feel like arthur would have like artsy lowkey pretentious tattoos lol #even when he was in his punk phase he was still kind of an art hoe #like paintings or english symbols or quotes from philosophers he likes. nerd #i want to wedgie him so bad (sexually) #anyways god bless you again anon ty for requesting i love this concept so BAD #also if you see the abundant amount of tags look away. #aph england x reader #hws england x reader #hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia x reader #hws england #aph england

[sashi-ya]

𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ♡ ᴅᴀʏ 10 ➡ 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍. nsfw .minors dni 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Anonymous 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍: 𝙷𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒! 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐!! 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟷0? 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍! 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝐓𝐰: nsfw. watersports (urine). written really subtly and not that explicitly, meaning that imo is not "gross". However if you don't enjoy this kink, do not read. kinda of omorashi. golden rain on his dick. riding kisuke. masturbation. 𝐰𝐜: 745 ➡ hentober masterlist

"Kisuke, let me go" "Just a little more, (Name)-san ~

Outside is pouring rain, even though some sunrays tint the raindrops in pure gold. You just woke up from a wild night with the shop owner. And, despite what you could think of, he is not satisfied yet.

It feels as if you were about to lose control. And indeed, you are. Kisuke Urahara’s fingers skilfully works on your sex, over your panties. He traces circles on your clit, getting the fabric of your pink culotte wet.

“Why are you squirming so much? I haven’t even moved this” he says, pulling from the elastic of your panties. “I told you- I- I need to go to the bathroom” you moan.

The blonde genius smirks and giggles in your ear, he is right behind you. Kisuke has trapped you and both are now kneeling on the mattress. Waking up with him it’s fun. As fun as the night before.

“No but really, really- Please” you plead, your bladder is about to burst, but his fingers already working so perfectly in and out of you.

Urahara bites your shoulder, you smell still some traces of his sweet manly perfume lingering in the air. “See, I have studied human bodies for as long as I can remember and my gigais aren’t different from them… women have better orgasms if they have it full” he mumbles, pressing your lower belly all of a sudden.

You put your eyes white. Why is he that way? And why he knows exactly how to make you reach heaven every time?

A few warm drops wet his hand; you are sure he enjoys making you suffer. “Stop- Urahara Kisuke or I’ll…” you whine, not sure if you are hating or loving such torture. Your muscles tense, your belly kinda hurts. You need to go, or you will burst.

“Your bed will…” you mumble, as he begins to pump with beckoning motions, in and out and up and down your core. “Get wet, yes! That’s right, (Name)-san ~” he sings, perversely and so lustfully.

You widen your eyes; Yes. He is definitely enjoying it…His free hand pinches your nipple and you know that soon you will end up losing the battle against pleasure and your physiological needs.

“Come on… come for me” he urges you, hitting a sweet spot that both makes you moan and suffer. “No… I- don’t… don’t fucking press th-“ you beg, as if he really cared.

“Heh… look at my forearm… it’s still dry! Come on!” he goes faster, now constantly pressing your lower abs, forcing you to lose control drop by drop.

Mortified, you know exactly that keep resisting is completely futile and you decide to give him exactly what he wants.

“What- do you- want? Huh?” you pant, catching his attention, allowing your pelvic muscles to rest for a little bit. “On my dick, please?” he asks, smiling at you with that cute innocent façade that hides a pervert inside.

You sigh and turn around. Pushing him and crawling over his lap, he gets extremely excited for it. Your nails carve marks on his pale chest, and as lewdly as he is, a smirk draws on your face.

“I’m not cleaning the sheets after this” you tell him, taking your panties off. “I will. I promise” he swears, even if of course that was a complete lie.

Kisuke jerks off while you relieve yourself, the warmth of your inner fluids making the man beneath you bite his lip in pure pleasure.

“I love you ~” he mumbles, being a total inmate of prurience. “I love you too” you smile, feeling your muscles sore but your sex throbbing, pleading for more. The wet mess of your honeys mixed with your relief does not scare you, and all you can think off is to ride your lover.

You softly hit his hand away, taking now the control over his reddish dick, so wet from your pee and his own precum. A few pumps you give to him before guiding it right inside you. You let your hips fall over his lap, feeling his sex impale you deeply.

“I hope the rule of the full bladder also applies to you, Kisuke…” you tell him, perversely smiling as you begin moving up and down and around with your hips.

“Let’s see if it does, my sweet (Name)-san…” he moans, so ready to fill you up this time…

#urahara kisuke x reader #urahara x reader #bleach x you #bleach x reader #urahara smut #urahara kisuke smut #bleach smut #bleach x y/n #bleach #bleach fanfic #urahara x you #kisuke x you #kisuke x reader #kintober #hentober #kinktober 2022

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Intimidation Tactics / Chapter 7

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York

Rating: E (smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence (putting the murder in Suburban Murder Daddy), mention of knives, guns, blood, etc., Dave being a bit over-the-top, MMF, oral sex (f receiving), double penetration. 

Summary: You can't help but draw the comparison of the way his hands had gripped the hilt of a knife as he had plunged it into a man's neck to the way they're carefully bandaging your arm as if you were made of glass. Dave is capable of such ruthless brutality, but he's leaning against the countertop with a towel around his hips, looking at you with such softness it makes your breath catch in your throat.

A/N: Is this rushed? Yes. Do I love how it reads? Not really. But I wanted to get this out quickly because I’m going to be taking a step back from writing fic for a little while so I can refocus on getting Control ready for publishing. My first draft edits are back (!!!!!!), and I’m going to be dedicating my free time to working on making those changes. I have more to say about these three, but I probably won’t be saying it for a little while, so I made sure to end the chapter on a good note. :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter Seven - Necessary Violence

You’re going to die. 

At first, you thought you had been holding your own, but that momentum is slowly seeping away. It’s now a matter of probability–with each new enemy that comes down those stairs, you become more and more likely to make a mistake. A fatal mistake.

You still can’t find it in you to regret breaking out of that fucking panic room.

You had screamed and beat on the door for only a few moments before you came to grips with the fact that those assholes really did lock you in there. Typical. At least the room was well-stocked with weapons–you had paced around, opening cabinets and finding guns, knives, and ammunition. Nodding to yourself, you had picked up a silencer and attached it to your own handgun. 

“Cool,” you had found yourself murmuring out loud to the empty room. You had resisted the urge to follow it up with “pew, pew, pew,” as you had tested out the weight of the gun, holding it aloft in a practiced stance. You stuffed some extra clips in your pockets and stuck a large, intimidating knife into your waistband.

Your fingers shaking from rage and adrenaline, you had opened up the electronic panel and studied the wires. In a combination of educated guesses and trial-and-error, you had managed to disable the lock and break yourself out of the fucking prison they’d put you in. Dave and Marcus. Right now, you think you liked it better when they had hated each other. They’re probably up there thinking it was for your own good, letting you be the damsel in distress while they play ‘John Wick’ upstairs.

You had still been fuming when someone who wasn’t Dave or Marcus came down the stairs, dressed in black and carrying an assault rifle. They clearly hadn’t been expecting you–and you had dispatched them easily with a couple of shots. The body had fallen back onto the last couple of stairs, and you had let out a shaky breath. 

Now, two other bodies have joined the first, but you’ve lost the element of surprise, and each fight is getting harder and harder to win. The last one had gone down in a harrowing bout of hand-to-hand combat that had ended with a knife lodged in the man’s throat. You had come away shaking, covered in a few cuts and bruises of your own, and losing steam quickly. 

That’s when he had come downstairs. The apparent leader of the operation, he had overpowered you embarrassingly quickly, landing you here: with his arm banded around your chest and a gun to your head. Still panting heavily from the fight, you struggle to maintain some sense of equilibrium, forcing yourself not to panic in what feels more and more like a no-win situation. 

The man doesn't seem interested in killing you instantly. He keeps you in front of him like a shield, cold metal pressing against your temple, waiting. It isn’t hard to guess what–or who–he’s waiting for, and he doesn’t have to stand there long before you hear two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.

They’re here. 

You hate that your body’s first reaction is to want to start crying with relief, so you grit your teeth and force the tears back down. Jaw clenched, you watch as Marcus and Dave take in the scene with matching fury in their eyes, guns both pointed at your captor. 

“I’d put the guns down, boys, if I were you,” the man says conversationally. “It’s making me awfully nervous, and I wouldn’t want to slip up.” 

The end of the gun jabs harder into your head, and you swallow the stab of pain, forcing yourself not to react. 

You watch Dave murmur something inaudible to Marcus, and they both slowly lower their arms, although both of them are still corded with tension, guns pointed toward the floor but still very obviously at the ready.

“What an interesting turn of events,” the man coos. “It seems like you both really like her. How sad. No one likes a love triangle.”

He clearly has no idea. You feel a sudden surge of pride welling up in you in spite of it all, that this man will never know what the three of you have. He can’t even fathom it–that the two of them feel just as much for each other as they do for you, and you for them. It cuts through your fear, your love for them–you know that, even if it’s far too soon, that’s what it is. Marcus had told you as much himself. Flitting back and forth between two sets of eyes, you can see the same emotions reflected in them both.

“Must be really painful for you when I do this,” the man sneers, turning and licking a disgusting, wet stripe up the side of your face. 

You want to vomit. The tears do come, now–tears of humiliation and of fury. 

“Or maybe this will get a reaction,” he continues, and the arm banded around your chest leaves you for a fraction of a second. When it returns, you can see the glint of a knife in the corner of your eye. You feel a sharp sting of pain as he presses the tip into your upper arm.

Marcus breaks. “Don’t!” he bellows, stepping forward, and Dave has to grab his arm and wrench him back. A few tense words are exchanged, and Marcus holds your gaze desperately, but he nods at whatever it is Dave is saying. You see something click into place in Marcus’s eyes as Dave talks–something that looks like resolve. His jaw is set. You know that whatever Dave had told him, it wasn’t just an instruction to calm down. This is what Marcus looks like when he has a plan. 

The knife is still digging into your skin but you hardly feel it. You’re buzzing with energy, knowing that the two of them are about to act. Whatever happens next is up to them.

A gun discharges, and your captor howls in pain as the gun he had been holding to your temple clatters uselessly to the floor. He steps back, clutching his now-bloody hand. You get a small glimpse of it as you back away–it looks like part of it is gone. 

Marcus surges forward and takes you in his arms, pulling you away as Dave rounds on your attacker. You jump in shock as he takes aim–almost casually–at the man’s knee and pulls the trigger. Marcus lets out a tense breath behind you. Another shot at the other kneecap, and you shriek “Dave!” in alarm.

Dave–worryingly–lets his gun drop to the floor as he sits on the man’s chest and draws a knife from his belt. His neck flexes in obvious fury as he holds the blade to the intruder’s neck.

“Shit,” Marcus breathes behind you.

“You hurt her,” Dave rasps softly, “we hurt you.” The knife starts to dig into the man’s throat.

“Sorry… I… ‘m sorry,” the man wheezes, the terror evident in his voice.

“The location of the painting,” Dave says flatly. “If you please.”

“The… what?” The man squeaks as the blade digs in further.

“The Warhol,” Dave answers, as if he’s ordering a latte. “Tell me where.”

The man’s eyes look to you and Marcus, pleading.

“Don’t look at them,” Dave tuts, grabbing the man’s face with his other hand. “Look at me.”

“I…”

“Your fate is already sealed,” Dave drawls. “May as well tell me. Maybe it will be less slow. Who knows.” He shrugs mockingly.

“S-Sold. T-To a gallery i-in Istanbul,” he stammers. “P-Please–”

“I need a name,” Dave growls.

“Ergin H-Halefoglu,” the man sobs.

“Appreciate your cooperation,” Dave says darkly, and the knife is suddenly buried to the hilt. The man splutters and kicks for a few moments before going still. Dave stands slowly, looming over the body, his fists clenched with tension. 

“Dave,” Marcus calls softly, and you can see the stress bleed out of him at the sound of the other man’s voice.

Dave crosses the room in just a few strides and crushes the both of you two his chest for a few short moments before pulling back and frantically looking you up and down, cataloging your injuries. The knife wound on your shoulder is still bleeding insistently, but it’s nowhere near serious. His eyes stop at the large amount of blood splattered on your forearm, his hands gently taking hold of it and inspecting the skin for another wound.

“That’s not mine,” you say quickly. “I stabbed one of them in the neck.” 

Dave smiles, his expression one of pride. It should be disturbing, you think, if you weren’t basking in the nonverbal praise.

That’s when you remember–

They locked you in a panic room.

The fury returns.

“You!” you round on Marcus first. “You locked me up!”

Marcus’s eyes grow comically wide at the accusation–taken by surprise that you are definitely going to fight him about it. 

“You were just going to leave me in there,” you say with clenched teeth. “Your little damsel in distress while the two of you enacted some fucking Rambo fantasy upstairs.”

“Baby, I’m sorr–”

“I’m not a fucking prize to be won at the end of an action sequence,” you yell, shoving Marcus back. “You–you asshole–”

Strong arms band around you, holding you in place as you struggle. 

“Shh, stop that. Stop,” Dave is saying firmly in your ear. “It was my idea. I told him to take you down here.”

You don’t stop squirming in his arms. "Why?" you demand. "I'm–I'm not useless, I'm capable, I–"

"You're not," Dave agrees. "I wasn't worried about that. I was worried that with both of you there I'd be too distracted," he admits. "Make a mistake, a fatal mistake, and get us all killed."

"Why?" you repeat again, refusing to back down. 

"These people look for anything they can exploit," Dave says quietly. "It would have been more than obvious that you two are my weakness."

"We aren't weak–" you start, but Dave holds you tighter. 

"No," he says. "You're not."

"You might think that, but you still locked me in a room and not Marcus," you say pointedly, turning in Dave's arms.

"I would have preferred both," Dave deadpans, and you roll your eyes.

"But in the end you did choose one of us, and you chose him," you say acerbically. "And I got the 'women-in-refrigerators' treatment."

"If you're looking for an apology, you aren't going to get one," Dave says with a growing edge to his voice.

A curse is on your lips, ready to be hurled, when Marcus steps between the two of you, holding his hands out. 

"For God's sake, stop," Marcus implores emphatically. "We're alive and relatively unharmed and you two are fighting." 

Marcus’s impassioned plea is enough to send the tears you've been holding back for the last ten minutes down your cheeks. You crumple, and Marcus is there to catch you, holding you to his chest as your adrenaline finally crashes and the fight leaves you. 

You feel the heat of Dave's body behind you, and this time, you don't fight him. You clutch at Marcus's shirt and you feel one of his arms leave you to wrap around Dave, instead. Above you, you feel them share a soft kiss. 

"Let's get out of the basement," Marcus suggests quietly. 

You allow him to lead you up the stairs and past the bodies you had dispatched. You don't look at them, pressing your face into Dave's sleeve instead.

“I’m going to go restore the power,” Dave announces, letting his hold slip from you and walking towards the garage instead. Marcus takes over, holding you close as he steers you in the opposite direction, towards Dave’s bedroom and into the bathroom.

When the lights flick on, Marcus turns on the shower and gently helps to pull your shirt over your head before removing his own. He has one small cut on his cheekbone that's already stopped bleeding but looks otherwise unharmed.

Dave arrives and takes off his shirt as well, using it to wipe away some of the blood on his hands before casting it onto the floor. You take note of a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing more than that. The blood all over his hands belongs to the man who had held you at gunpoint.

Wordlessly, the three of you strip off the rest of your clothes and get under the blissfully hot water. 

The first touch of skin on skin is practically euphoric. You let out a little sob of relief as you feel two wet, warm bodies pressing against you. For a few moments, the water sluicing down the drain is rust-colored as Dave's hands are rinsed clean. 

"How did they find us?" you ask quietly as the water clears. 

Dave is silent for a few moments, thinking. "They must have been tracking your cell phone," he says. "The first time you had any signal was this morning, right?"

At your nod, he continues. "It connected just long enough for it to be located."

Your hand covers your mouth in shame. "I put us in danger," you whisper. 

"None of us had any idea," Marcus assures you. "You couldn't have known. It's not your fault."

Marcus produces a washcloth from somewhere and starts to take care of the blood on your forearm, then moves higher to dab at the small wound on your upper arm. You hiss softly at the sting of the hot water. It’s not particularly large or deep, but it’s bad enough that the skin is angry and your shoulder is starting to throb gently. You wince as Marcus cleans the last of the blood away with an apologetic expression. 

"Our brave, perfect girl," Dave murmurs behind you, stepping close and kissing a path up your neck. “You really were incredible.”

Your head tips back, instinctively seeking Dave’s shoulder to lean against as you bare more of your neck to him to nip with his teeth. He does. You whimper at the scrape of it against your skin and you’re rewarded with one of Dave’s large hands wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure; just lets it sit there, tilting your head back a fraction more.

“Look at her,” Dave says quietly.

“Oh, don’t worry, I am,” Marcus responds lowly. 

Your eyes are closed; you don’t see the way Marcus crouches down in front of you. The light touch of his tongue to your clit is your first indication that he’s moved at all, and you gasp softly in surprise.

Dave chuckles darkly at your response. 

“Make her beg, tiger.”

He does. Oh, he does. Marcus teases your clit with barely-there swirls of his tongue, staying on just the wrong side of not enough until you’re babbling incoherently–little pants of their names interspersed with curses and whimpers. All the while, Dave murmurs filth in your ear in that deep rasp–praising you, teasing you, telling you all the things he’s going to do to you–to the two of you–when he gets the chance.

Marcus flicks his tongue just so, and you break.

“Fuck, please, you can’t tease me like this–not tonight, oh, God–” you cry out, louder than you mean to be.

“What do you need, pumpkin?” Dave asks in your ear, sending goosebumps up and down your spine.

“Both,” you answer immediately. “Please, I know you said no, but I need to feel you both, I need it to be all of us together. I can handle it, I can. I need you both so bad.” 

The last couple of words finish on a sob–so overwhelmed by the events of the night and the way they’re teasing you and the fact that you’re pretty sure you love them that you’re close to tears.

“Okay,” Dave says soothingly. “Okay.”

Marcus gets to his feet and gives you a gentle kiss, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He chuckles and pulls back, moving to share your taste with Dave as well, who hums his approval against Marcus’s lips.

“Is that a yes?” you ask hopefully.

“I did say ‘no’ the other day,” Dave agrees, and your face falls. “But you’re begging for both of our cocks so sweetly that I don’t think either of us are capable of refusing.” He looks at Marcus with a glint in his eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Marcus says, unconsciously darting his tongue between his teeth as he takes Dave’s cock in his firm grip (“Fuck,” says Dave), “that we should move this to the bed, then.”

You towel off as quickly as you can, desperate to get into bed and feel them in you, taking you, overpowering you. You scrub the water off of your legs with only one hand–the injury is making the other arm stiff and sore–and of course, Dave notices. 

"Let me look at your arm," Dave says. He produces a first aid kit from somewhere in the cabinet and sets it down on the counter.

“What?” you squeak. “What about–”

“Do you want to take both of us at once?” Dave asks, a bit of condescension seeping into his voice, pouting his lips teasingly at your eagerness.

“Yes, but–”

“Then you’re going to do as we say,” Marcus adds, stepping next to Dave and giving you a no-nonsense look.

“You guys are insufferable when you gang up,” you grumble, but you turn and lean against the counter, injured arm toward Dave.

“Good girl,” Dave simpers, and even though you know it’s just to get a rise out of you, you shiver anyway.

You’re still unbearably turned on, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that the sudden change in tone would completely derail the moment, but you’d be wrong. Dave’s fierce expression as he dabs the wound gently with rubbing alcohol, the delicate way with which he handles you, only serves to add fuel to your fire, making slick pool between your thighs just from the feel of his hands on your arm. 

You can't help but draw the comparison of the way his hands had gripped the hilt of a knife as he had plunged it into a man's neck to the way they're carefully bandaging your arm as if you were made of glass. Dave is capable of such ruthless brutality, but he's leaning against the countertop with a towel around his hips, looking at you with such softness it makes your breath catch in your throat.

Dave leans forward, and you think he's going to kiss you, but instead he stops just shy of your lips and says, "I want to see you spread out on the bed, waiting for us."

You nod and drop the towel with a coy smile, turning to walk out of the bathroom and letting your hips swing seductively from side to side, knowing the two of them are watching with interest without needing to turn and see for yourself. 

You lie down on the bed, spreading your legs and allowing your fingers to toy with your folds. You're soaked in anticipation, and at the sight of Dave and Marcus in the doorway, both unapologetically nude, you cant your hips upward, seeking friction. 

"Are you a patient man, Agent Pike?" Dave asks as he stalks toward the bed.

"Are you asking if I'm willing to have her writhing on the bed for as long as it takes for her to be ready to take us?" Marcus responds, giving you a wink. 

Dave hums in amusement. "Sounds like it," he drawls.

"I'd be highly disappointed in anything less," Marcus says with a very Dave-like smirk. 

Dave grabs the lube off of the bedside table and slicks his fingers generously, while Marcus lies down beside you and strokes your face tenderly.

"If it hurts at all, you tell us immediately," Marcus says seriously. "You should only ever feel good, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you nod thickly. "Yes, I will."

True to his word, Dave seems to work you open for hours while you writhe and squirm on one, two, then three fingers. By the time he's worked up to a fourth (making you arch and cry out in pleasure), you've already cum twice by Marcus's teasing. For the first, all Marcus had done was flick his tongue repeatedly against your nipple, and combined with the way Dave was slowly fucking your ass with one finger, it had been enough to send you over the edge. 

You had squeaked in surprise, not expecting it at all, and Dave’s resulting smile was brilliant, showing all his teeth in a wolfish grin. 

The second time, Marcus had been swirling some of the obscene amount of your slick around your clit while Dave added a third finger. 

When Dave adds a fourth, you start to beg–quietly repeating please, please, please to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts. 

"Dave," Marcus says, chuckling softly. "C'mon, she's more than ready."

"Looks like someone's having mercy on you, pumpkin, " Dave teases. He slowly withdraws his fingers, and fuck, you've never felt so empty. 

"Still feel okay?" Marcus prompts. 

"Yes," you say quickly. "I want it."

Marcus shifts, laying on his back on the bed. "Come here, baby, sit on my cock. Let us take care of you, hmm?"

With a small, blissful smile, you sink down. It's a stretch you're used to, now, but it's still a stretch. Your mouth falls open, at the feel of Marcus filling you, but it's not enough, not tonight. You don't feel like you'll be complete without the two of them. 

You’re rolling your hips on top of Marcus when Dave comes up behind you, his cock pressing insistently against your lower back. 

"Bend over," he rasps in your ear. 

You obey easily, sinking into Marcus and burying your face into the crook of his neck. 

"None of that," Dave scolds. "Look at him. He wants to see your eyes. Don't you, tiger?"

"Fuck, yes I do," Marcus agrees. "Wanna see the moment he fills you."

You raise up until you see Marcus's warm brown eyes glinting back at you. In stark contrast to how incredibly intense the sex is likely about to feel, Marcus is gently caging your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones as Dave lines up behind you. 

The sound you make as the second cock breaches you is inhuman. With Marcus thick and throbbing inside of you already, it's so much to take. 

"Shh," Marcus whispers as Dave pushes into your ass. "Our perfect girl. You're taking us so well, you were made for us. You know, I meant what I said earlier," he confesses softly, "in the panic room. I love you–I love both of you." 

"You have incredibly strange timing," Dave grunts, the amusement evident in his voice. 

"Story of my life," Marcus chuckles. 

"Oh my God, you two have got to stop," you groan, laughing in spite of it all. 

Dave chooses that moment to sliiiide into you until his hips are flush with you and he's buried deeply, so deeply. "What was that, pumpkin?" 

You can only pant loudly in response, gasping breaths as you try to center yourself.

"I can feel you," Marcus says quietly, almost reverently. "You both feel so good." He flexes his hips up experimentally, and you can feel the two of them brushing against each other inside of you. 

Dave makes a low sound in his throat at the friction and starts to move in and out of you slowly and shallowly, giving you a chance to get used to the feel of it. 

“That’s it,” Marcus tells you soothingly. He’s being so tender when, at the same time, the pressure of both of them inside you is close to breaking you apart before they’ve even started–and the juxtaposition is making you almost numb with want. The two of them could do anything to you right now and you’d beg them for more.

“Move,” you find yourself saying. “Please.”

“Insatiable,” Dave teases, but he grasps your hips tighter as he starts to thrust into you.

Marcus does the same–holding onto your hips for purchase in roughly the same spot, so that their hands are overlapping as they both fuck you, their fingers interlocked 

You’re barely capable of thought, merely a vessel of pleasure–both theirs and yours. You’re so full it’s almost unbearable, but they’re hitting places inside you that you never even knew existed. Now that you’ve had this, you think, you’ll be ruined for anything else. All you’ll ever want is the two of them. 

You know you must sound incoherent, making little broken sounds as Dave and Marcus take you apart. Marcus is fucking up into you with deep, steady strokes–almost withdrawing completely before delving back in, and each time he enters you, your cunt is so tight that it feels as if you can barely fit him inside. Dave’s hips are smacking against your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust, and you can feel every millimeter of him inside of you, stretching you out. 

“Cum for us,” Marcus orders beneath you. “Come on, show us how much you love it.”

One of his hands leaves your hips to rub your clit instead. You keep spiraling higher and higher, but you feel as if you’re hanging on a precipice, unable to jump off. 

Dave seems to sense your internal struggle. He effortlessly pulls you back against him, one arm banding around your chest to keep you flush against him while the other comes to your throat and starts to squeeze.

“Is this what you need?” Dave rasps. “You’re being fucked by both of us but you still want more, is that it?”

All you can do is nod, and Dave chuckles darkly. The hand tightens until you can just barely take a breath in, and it seems to magnify every sensation in your body.

“Look at her,” Dave orders Marcus. “Our filthy girl. She’s gonna cum like this,” he says, his voice low and teasing in your ear, “with my hand around her pretty throat and two cocks buried inside of her.”

Dave barely finishes his sentence before you finally fall, twitching uselessly in his arms as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. When it’s finally over, you’re limp and boneless, head lolling back on Dave’s shoulder as the two of them chase their own release. You aren’t sure who succumbs first, but soon both of them are stilling inside you, filling you up. 

“Shh,” Dave whispers in response to your continued whimpering–you feel full, so full–all teasing gone from his tone, replaced with tenderness. “We’ve got you.” His grip on you slowly loosens as he lowers you back down to lay on Marcus’s chest. 

Marcus covers your face with kisses as soon as you’re in reach, whispering sweet praises and soothing away the little sound of discomfort you make when Dave withdraws.

“Lay down, pumpkin,” Dave says, and you don’t need telling twice. You slide off of Marcus lazily and collapse on the bed. The bed shifts as Marcus gets up and then Dave is there, brushing the hair off of your forehead as you come down. 

“Thank you,” you murmur tiredly, making Dave laugh through his nose.

“You don’t have to thank us for that.” “No, the–tonight,” you say, images of a far more violent Dave from earlier flashing through your mind. “You–you–”

“It’s okay,” Dave responds quietly. “It’s over.”

“I–I thought you didn’t care about the Warhol,” you murmur as Marcus returns with a warm cloth and begins to clean you up, wiping away his spend and Dave’s, being careful with the now-tender skin. You’re going to feel them for days.

Dave smirks, although the softness of his eyes betrays the action somewhat. “I don’t.”

“What are we going to do about all the—” Marcus trails off, jerking his head in the direction of the bedroom door, where beyond it, a dozen or so bodies are spread around the cabin.

“The DIA will be here first thing tomorrow,” Dave answers. “So we better get some sleep.” He slides under the covers behind you and pulls you back against him. “C’mere, tiger,” he says tiredly, and you watch as Marcus smiles and joins the two of you under the covers, pressing against you so you’re sandwiched between them. 

You let out a happy sigh. “I love you too, by the way,” you whisper. “Both of you.”

Dave’s hold tightening around you is the last thing you remember before sleep pulls you under.

#macus pike #dave york #marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #dave york x you #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader x dave york #marcus pike x you x dave york

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hay dear, i want to know do you still accept a request for Ronin warriors .if so i'm really like this mini event and i want to Involved in this event. May i request ronin warriors x female reader HAREM/REVERSE HAREM. I'm also love polyrelatioship just like you dear.💋💋😍😍. I wish you all the best 🎂🧁, thankyou for this incredible lovely event you organize.

I will definitely accept this request! It's so very rare I ever get to write for Ronin Warriors that I couldn't not take the opportunity! I hope you'll enjoy the AU I came up with, which did get spicy adjacent at points, to warn everyone. Thank you so much for sending this in!!

Okay, so right off the bat, I'm going to admit that for this particular AU, I went really self-indulgent, though not in the particular way that most people would take that. Don't worry, you won't find self-inserts or anything in this AU. It is terrifically self-indulgent for me though. Anyone close enough to me to have learned about my original stories, that I've felt comfortable enough talking about those with, will have learned that most of all of my original works are either erotica or young-adult fantasy novels, and that even my erotica tends to veer more towards paranormal based.

This particular AU? If I was to sit and write it out, I would classify it as supernatural erotica with splashes of political drama. I won't get really graphic in any of the descriptions, so I probably won't hide this under a cut, but there are definitely going to be hints of spice and sex, so for anyone uncomfortable with that, this might be one of my posts you'll prefer skipping.

Another way it's super self-indulgent? I'll admit that the whole idea for this world and the plot does come from a failed original work (I started writing it as a series, for anyone interested, but ended up hating one of my original characters who was one of the major love interests, and I've been in fandom long enough to know that for a large majority of readers, he would have been the most popular of the love interests and I just quit because honestly just can't think of writing for that asshole ever again). I've also used the world and plot in various little drabbles or mini-fics for other fandoms, though I don't think I've ever published them anywhere, so yeah…this is a recycled idea, and not a horribly original idea even on its own as the genre is full of things like it, and I feel a little like I might have jipped you poor readers by doing that but I just couldn't resist.

So, to get into setting this up proper! This very much takes place in a fantasy world full of supernatural/paranormal creatures. All the different races tend to live separately, each having their own lands, ideals, and such. Different races do not tend to get along, and honestly, there's a lot of tension and unease in this world. Each race believes they are the superior beings, the ones who should be in charge of everything and cold, civil fights are waged, along with actual battle, between the races on a pretty regular basis. We enter this world when there really is a huge potential of all-out war between everyone as the races are all competing to be really the one unifying race, leading all the others into their ways of life and overseeing the fantasy lands.

You, the reader, are one of the Fair Folk, belonging to a darker Court of theirs. Your race is one of lust, sex, gluttony, sin in all it's forms… hedonistic pleasure in all ways, really - those very basic and primal urges that exist among even the most pure of races really are not only yours to control and manipulate but where your race draws their power from.

You were born the heir to the throne for this Court, for this land, and overall your race had always largely stayed out of the battles and wars, had been pretty neutral ground, largely interested only in those hedonistic pleasures. That was until the last High Liege had gotten onto the throne. They'd really thrown your race into the battle, something many had disagreed with, and after a stunning loss against another land, with many killed from your race, it was no surprise that an assassination attempt had led to the death of the last High Liege.

We start the story with your coronation, accepting the throne and new position of the High Liege. And unfortunately, you're not entering a really good place as the one in power. The moves and decisions of your predecessor had brought attention to your race, which was largely ignored by the other races before that. There too much potential for your land to be taken over, for your race to become mere servants for another Court or another race in general. And, though you know your race is powerful, you have to accept that in terms of political power or brute strength, you have none. Your throne, your people…they are all very much in danger and the story is really you, as this new ruler, trying to gain alliances, joining with other races, strengthening your political power and really becoming a ruler that is not only protecting their own people, but beginning to take shape into that grand ruler over all (which isn't really a position you had initially wanted, and your end political game is really just for everyone to be able to live as they wish, in peace and prosperity, without threats on their own people).

One last important thing to cover before I get into the alliances and such you form over the course of the story. Among your people, there is a very rare gift and it's one you have. It's only those who do possess it that can become a ruler. I called it the 'mating-bond', just because I suck at naming things but you can, through the act of mating with someone, mark them as yours. There's no limit to the amount of people you can bond with. Through forming this mating-bond, you not only bestow some of your powers, in a much diluted form, to them, but gain some of theirs. It shows them as being under your protection and allied to you. It also forms a unique mental bond - those you mate-bond with will always be able to sense you, your moods, roughly your whereabouts, whether you're in danger or not, and with the strongest of mate-bonds, there is some limited telepathy between the mates. It's also said, though you don't know if it's true as you've never heard anyone speak of it, that with the strongest of mate-bonds, where both fully accept the bond and there are actual feelings attached from both sides, that those mates will each accept that they will die without the other, should the other die or break the mate-bond in some magical way. The bond is shown as formed through marks each mate will leave on the others skin, like a tattoo.

I won't assign you a mark throughout the story, just because I kind of love the idea of any of you who like this idea enough to kind of imagine things with it, as being able to choose your own symbol that you best feel represents you but will say your mark stays the same no matter who it is on, is really a reflection of who you are.

Now, if it isn't obvious, a lot of your alliances are formed through the act of mate-bonding. You seduce, charm, beguile those in power of other races, bring about the idea of forming an alliance, of lending each other your powers and to show you're serious, you do take these other rulers as your mates.

I like to think of Ryo as the first mate-bond you make. He's the head of one of, if not the, largest race, since he is the Alpha for all the weres. It was a position won through not only his brute strength and power, but his love for his people and he's highly respected. The Weres will follow his lead and you know that alliance will be the most beneficial for you. I do think it's not a quick alliance, you really do need to spend a great deal of time with him, to the point where both of you do start to develop actual feelings beyond just knowing the other could prove useful. When you mate-bond with him, his mark shows as a crescent moon symbol between your collarbone and left breast. I will also say, since weres mate for life, you taking other mates and performing mate-bonds with others is really hard, especially at first for Ryo. Out of all the others, he does take it the hardest and is the least able to accept it, though he does begin to do so throughout the story. It still bothers him every now and again, but he does learn to accept it because he does love you, and he even forms true friendships and his own alliances, outside the ones he's forced into because of your mate-bond with, with those you choose to mate-bond with.

The next four aren't in any particular order, just because that's the one thing I really couldn't figure out, is what order these alliances would best strategically make sense in. So please forgive that!

Okay, this might not make sense to anyone else but me but hear me out here because I really do strongly see Kento as being a dragon. He's a very powerful Earth dragon, has amassed a large fortune, and because of his power, wealth, and his own love and care for dragon-kind itself, he is the leader and representative for Dragonkind. He's the least resistant towards forming an alliance with you. While he enjoys battle, he thinks it should be for sport, not for war, and he sees the use in alliances. That, and he always enjoys making a new friend, be they of any race. He's surprisingly very much not racist, though several dragons do have the reputation for being so. It causes quite a bit of trouble with his own people when he does mate-bond with you, though he quashes it through a tournament where he shows exactly how strong he is and his grace and benevolence towards even those who go against him and once again gains the respect of his kind. I do say he's also the most open to you taking other mates and he enjoys meeting and interacting with your other mates the most. For those wondering, his mark shows as a spiraling black mark, almost like a dragon's tail, going from your right ankle up to your right knee.

Cye is, probably rather predictably, definitely the ruler of the undersea. Not only the creatures of the undersea, but the merpeople as well. In a little change from what you would predictably think of as merpeople, I do see these merpeople as being, yes, half fish in the water. They have the tails and the power to breathe underwater. Most of the mer's can only really stay in that form, except for the royal family, who are born with the ability to transform into a more human shape once they are completely out of the water, allowing them to interact properly with land-dwelling creatures. Cye is rather hesitant to form an alliance with you at first, but he admits that he could use the alliance. The mer's have been under heavy fire lately, seen as an easy target, and due to the largely pacifistic nature of the mer's, they aren't really able to protect themselves. After getting you to swear an unbreakable oath that not only you, but the other mates you have that he meets, will help him protect his beloved people, he enters into the mate-bond. It's not out of love at first, though I do see him as a romantic who does grow to love you rather quickly, though he is the most kind and gentle towards you, even from the beginning. He, much like Ryo, does have some issues with how many mates you have, has some minor jealousy problems, but largely stuffs them down and does his best to get along. I see his mark as being a scallop shaped seashell, delicate but colourful, along the nape of your neck.

I see Rowen as being really in a very similar situation as you in a way. The Elvish Prince, heir to that throne, he was raised very, very sheltered. He has no real knowledge, except from books, of the other races and has never interacted with anyone outside of his own race. While the Elvish were, at one point, a largely peaceful people and most do still prefer to just keep to themselves, hidden inside their lands and never venturing outside, Rowen's father and the King, had seen merit in more brutal methods and believed the only way for everyone to have peace were if the long-living and wise Elves took care of all races. Much like yourself, we meet Rowen in the story as a very newly crowned ruler after a civil war among the Elves, who had found themselves divided pretty well among whether to follow or force the King off the throne. Obviously, the King had been forced off his throne and Rowen, next in line, is set to take his place. With so much civil unrest still, the Elves are in danger, both from themselves and outside sources and Rowen doesn't know who he can and can't trust, even among those closest to him. I think I see him as being the last of your mate-bonds with those of different races, and seeing the wisdom in an alliance with you and those you've mated with, he does accept your offer of an alliance and a mate-bond. He is, he admits, really taken back by becoming part of what really is a huge polycule but he throughout the story does become a wise ruler with you by his side, does fall in love with you, does gain meaningful friendships and bonds with the other mates. His mark is a beautiful flower in bloom, going from the top of one shoulder and wrapping around your waist.

Now, I feel the mate-bond with Sage is the one that takes the longest to happen. Sage is the Highmost Angel among that race. And let me make this clear, when I say angels, we're not going full biblical here. They aren't eternally pure, chaste, and innocent. These Angels can very much hold their own in terms of pure defensive and offensive power, but choose peace whenever possible. The only other neutral race besides yours in this world, the Angels try to just stay to themselves and watch things from afar. And though Sage sees your wisdom in reminding him that, as someone who is supposed to be from a neutral race yourself, if others see your race as a target or a threat, how long will be the Angels truly be able to remain neutral? If your neutrality as a race gets taken away by force, the other races will grow more emboldened and would target the Angels as well. And like I said, Sage sees the wisdom in that, but is not one to rush into things. He says he will consider your offer, but demands to travel with you and your mates before he accepts, so he can truly see the nature of you and those you surround yourself with. When he finally does grow to realize he loves not only you, but the freedom you and the others have given him, and when he does realize he couldn't imagine being without you or even the other mates, he does accept a mate-bond with you and his mark on you is a feather, going from your wrist up to your elbow on the inside of your arm.

Also, just because I am such a sucker for this trope. Anubis is a member of your race, a childhood friend of yours who grew to become your personal knight and bodyguard. I think the two of you have always had some degree of feelings for each other and have been lovers, since your race is so freely sexual, but the actual romantic feelings…you both felt them at times the other had given up on them and no longer felt them. On top of that, there really was the problem of being from two vastly different classes within your race, you the heir to the throne and him one of the more common people. An actual mate-bond with him? It would have been highly looked down upon, especially amongst your own race, and would have proved no usefulness in the matters of issues with the other races. He accompanies you throughout the whole story and he finds himself growing angrier and more jealous with each new mate you take. He does confront you about it eventually, once he wakes up to the fact that no, you had never been just a casual lover of his, he does love you and he becomes, in a night of fiery passion that neither of you can really control, your final mate-bond. He's the most jealous and protective of you out of your mates. His mark on you is a set of three small red stars, running along one of your cheekbones.

#replies #ronin warriors #headcanons #au headcanons #harem au #ryo sanada #sage date #kento rei faun #cye mouri #rowen hashiba #supernatural au #anubis ronin warriors

[orbis-alius]

An Unexpected Event

Chapter 1 — Season 1

🦋

Oriana's mornings in Gardenia used to always start the same, with the sweet song of the birds, the ticking of the clock, the warm sunlight hitting her cheek and her brother Isidoro jumping on her to crush her at three past eight in the morning.

“Up, Oriana, come on, the sun is out,” exclaimed the fourteen-year-old teenager as he jumped again and again over his sister, taking the air out of her.

“Get down! It's vacation, you should sleep until noon" with all the strength Oriana could muster, she stood up suddenly, throwing her brother to the floor, she aggressively pushed the strands of black hair that were on her face and fixed her stormy gray eyes on Isidoro “The door had a key!”

“And I had a clip, you should see everything you learn on the internet.”

Isidoro threw himself on his sister again to lift her by pulling her leg while she held on to the headboard of her bed to continue sleeping, in a last attempt to resist Oriana took her pillow to suffocate her little brother, which obviously developed in a pillow fight.

“I swear,” said a voice from the door stopping her game. “The next time someone praises the behavior of you two I will laugh in front of her face.”

The two teenagers on the floor rolled their eyes.

“Oh look at me, I'm Mr. Lorenzo Perfect” Isidoro mocked, pretending to have class “I did boxing, I run in the mornings every weekend, I have a girlfriend who looks like a model and has a brain...”

“Hey!”

“And don't forget my greatest hits,” added Oriana, mocking like her little brother. “The thirteenth great concert out of tune in the bathroom shower, the fart symphony in my room, the harmony of explosions in the kitchen at noon...”

“Oriana, stop,” the young man pleaded, trying to appeal to her little sister's usual maturity while her face blushed more and more.

“And my personal favorite, the best sex education class ever completed.”

Lorenzo pounced on his younger brothers and started tickling them in an attempt to get them to leave the alliance against him, he loved them, but he would prefer when Oriana was in alliance with him and didn't riddle him with Isidoro.

Oriana's coughs erased any trace of amusement between the three brothers, as Lorenzo sat her up and urged her to follow her breathing, Isidoro dashed across the room to get the inhaler from her desk.

The air began to enter the girl's lungs again as she closed her eyes in search of avoiding guilt, it was not her fault that she had asthma, it was not her fault that her airways decided to close, it was not her fault...

“Are you okay?” Her older brother's trembling voice brought her back to earth. She looked at Lorenzo, his soft brown hair and loving brown eyes warped in concern for her, it wasn't her fault, it wasn't her fault...

“Of course, it was nothing” Oriana replied, giving her the most reassuring smile she could do “We should have breakfast, I'm dying… I'm so hungry.”

Ignoring the elephant in the room the two boys left to let her dress, once alone Oriana fell on her bed watching her trembling hands, she took the necklace on the nightstand next to her bed to press it against her chest as she inhaled and exhaled trying to calm down and prevent the tears held in his eyes from increasing.

╠━╣

In the house next door lived a beautiful redhead named Bloom who was sleeping peacefully after staying up late drawing, of course for her mother Vanessa it was already more than acceptable time for her to get up and take advantage of her vacations, so she decided to use a white lie to see her sleeping so soundly.

"Bloom, it's almost nine o'clock. Didn't you have classes with Professor Mildred?"

The redhead's scream of horror was proof enough that her little trick had an effect on her, she even managed to wake up her pet rabbit, Kiko.

“Why didn't you wake me up?" Bloom complained brushing her teeth. “You know she hates me! How come the alarm didn't go off?” It was only after she finished getting dressed that she stopped to think, “Wait a second, the alarm didn't go off because I'm already on vacation Mom! It's not funny!”

But the brown-haired woman had already left the room laughing at her daughter, the poor redhead had no choice but to take her bunny in her arms and go down to the kitchen.

“Good morning, darling,” greeted her father, leaving her coffee and newspaper aside, “How did you wake up?”

“Awful, your wife scared me awake, your poor good little daughter,” Bloom complained dramatically, even managing to get a few tears from the corners of her blue eyes.

“Wife, how could you do something so Machiavellian to my poor and good daughter?” Her father continued the game.

“Too early for their plays,” she warned with a smile to her husband Mike and her artist daughter "Have a good breakfast and start the day strong, enjoy your weekend before helping me in the flower shop, Bloom.”

“Okay, I'll start strong,” Bloom agreed as she sat at the table after giving Kiko her breakfast, she clasped her hands together in a beseeching gesture. “Please let me go to the beach with my friends.”

“Bloom, we've been talking about this since your sixteenth birthday, you're still so young,” Vanessa reminded him, joining the table.

“And I'm eighteen now, nineteen in six more months, I think I'm old enough now,” she complained, sinking her teeth into her toast.

“When you're twenty-one you can do whatever you want Bloom, but you're still a girl, our girl.” The image of a little redhead with pigtails overlapped Mike's vision of her teenage daughter.

“It's not fair, then they'll use the card while you live under our roof…” the redhead let out a sigh trying to control herself, if she got capricious she'd never convince them, she needed to negotiate “Listen, it's not like I'm going to go with strangers, just Oriana, Selina and I, your have known them since we were little girls. I can understand the trip to Ireland with Eldora, but the beach is only a few hours away.”

“Bloom, I'm sorry, but the answer is still no. Also soon we'll go skiing, to vary this year's vacations” the rest of breakfast passed in resigned silence until Bloom took Kiko and left, but Vanessa couldn't help but turn her concern over Mike “Do you think we're being very strict? Bloom has proven to be trustworthy, Selina is a good girl, and Oriana certainly knows how to keep them from doing dumb things.”

“Love, it bothers me too but it's still dangerous, look at this” Mike pointed out, handing her the newspaper “The disappearance of young people on the coasts increased and even...”

“They found parts of their bodies that were… Oh dear.” Vanessa turned the page sharply at the more grotesque images.

“I know we can't make sure she's completely safe in Gardenia but still...”

“No, it's okay, Gardenia is safe, I just wish that Selina and Eldora are also safe on their trip to Ireland.”

╠━╣

Bloom put Kiko on the basket of her bicycle and locked the metal frame that served as a cage, then took the bike out of the garage to go in search of her friend.

“It will always be the same with them, I will never be old enough,” Bloom lamented, talking to Kiko was something she did from time to time, he even seemed to listen to her sometimes.

“That's because they're your parents” Bloom turned her face to meet her friend Oriana who was looking at her with amusement in her gray eyes, she had her hair tied in a high ponytail as well as wearing baggy sports pants and a loose blouse one size larger, her hands gripped the backpack straps on her back “and to a lesser extent, if you're referring to your plan to go to the beach this vacation, it could be because of all the disappearances that have been going on.”

“Disappearances?”

“Yes, you know, young people between sixteen and twenty-five years old... Don't you watch the news?” Oriana rolled her eyes in her confusion, Bloom knew she got lost in the clouds more times than Oriana could bring it down. “They were mutilated, some pieces washed up on the shores even with bite marks, beach tourism is on the tightrope, in fact we're going camping this vacation and from what I heard from uncle Mike you're going skiing”

Bloom nodded as she assimilated the information, clearly the coast was dangerous at the moment but she would have preferred her parents to tell her instead of refusing without any explanation other than her age.

"Oh no," Oriana murmured suddenly, two seconds later she knew what she meant.

“Hey, Bloom, Oriana! Still with that junk of pedals?”

Mitzi was Bloom's classmate since she started high school, she was part of the journalism club and her animosity towards her hadn't ended even after finishing her education, she always knew how to get on her nerves. She watched them two leaning against the small pillar of her house while two of her friends tried to load a motorcycle into the van.

“Mitzi, hi, how's everything going?” Oriana asked, faking a smile while Bloom murmured under her breath that there was nothing wrong with the bicycle her parents gave her.

“I heard that you and Andy broke up” straight to the point of course, Oriana had to make a great effort not to roll her eyes, everyone knew that Bloom and Andy had broken up, it was what happened in friendly cities like this “Still will you spend the vacation in Gardenia?”

“In fact, we're leaving in a few weeks, Mitzi,” Bloom replied for the first time after controlling her temper.

“To the same beach as always for sure” Oriana's firm hand on Bloom's arm was what prevented Mitzi from having a bloody nose “Well, I feel generous so I'll send you a postcard from Spain, I could give you a new one perspective.”

“Thanks Mitzi, but we will go skiing this year”

“Really? Well, I'm sorry for your parents, I still remember how disastrous the fifth year trip was.”

“Of course you do,” Bloom said through clenched teeth.

The three of them remembered that trip, Bloom had barely finished learning and due to Mitzi's prank the redhead tripped during the descent, the only good thing about that was that the redhead and Andy became close.

“Is that a new motorcycle, Mitzi?” Oriana asked trying to divert the conversation and create a quick exit.

“Watch out!” She roared at them as the boys almost dropped her, “It's super new, isn't it great?”

“Very much, we hope you have fun on your vacation Mitzi, and stay away from the beaches.”

“Have a nice vacation, see you later” said Bloom quickly before getting on her bicycle and getting out of it like lightning, Oriana followed her running “She's so smug.”

“Come on Little Flame, don't start to burn,” Oriana said affectionately, “You don't want she to see you like this before her trip. Right?”

Selina was their friend who would soon go to Ireland with Eldora, a nice woman who allowed them to spend the afternoons in her garden and with whom they had tea while she told them wonderful stories about heroes, fairies and witches. She had even given the three of them some nice bracelets that they never took off.

“What's wrong?” Bloom asked at the intense silver gaze.

“Where's your bracelet Bloom?” Two seconds later Oriana regretted asking, because the redhead was startled and lost control of the bicycle almost colliding with a car “Bloom!”

The named kept holding tightly to the streetlight against which she crashed during her maneuver to avoid the car, it took her a few seconds to come to before she realized that her friend was ranting with Mr. Genaro from the grocery store.

“…It was in red! Of course the coward would run away!”

“Come on Orianella, focus on the good, look, Fioralba is fine” said Mr. Genaro while Oriana concentrated on helping Bloom to stabilize, then she noticed that Kiko and the bicycle had no damage “Here, some apples to recover peace, are you okay Fioralba?”

“Yes... yes, it was just the scare, it left me in a bit of a shock,” replied Bloom, taking one of the three apples. “Thank you very much, Mr. Genaro.”

“It's nothing girls, but be more careful” both nodded before saying goodbye to continue on their way “say hello to your mother Bloom and tell her I have a discount on strawberries.”

╠━╣

“I won't rip your head off just because you forgot our bracelet for a day, Bloom,” Selina scolded her before taking a bite of her apple. Once they got home, Oriana made sure to tell her what had happened.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, don't worry about it.”

“You're my friend, of course I'm going to worry,” the green-haired girl looked from her to the other girl, “Can you keep her safe by yourself?”

“I'll do my best, I promise.”

“Hey! I'm still here” the two girls laughed at the redhead's pout, Oriana couldn't help but touch her little freckled nose.

“Selina, the taxi is waiting,” the woman reminded her from inside the car.

“I'm coming Grandma!”, Selina informed, throwing the core of her apple before hugging her friends, “I'm going to miss you so much.”

“And we you, but we'll still be here when you get back,” Bloom promised.

“Have fun and be very careful, avoid approaching the coast as much as possible,” Oriana reminded with concern.

The friends parted ways, Selina promised to take care of herself and she got into the taxi with her grandmother, the three looked at each other until the car turned the corner. Bloom and Oriana kept walking while eating their apples in the direction of Gardenia's park, they didn't used to be there for a long time since they preferred to spend it in Eldora's garden all together, but now they wouldn't be there for a few weeks so it felt bad to enter alone.

Already in the park the two girls looked for a tree with good shade to sit under, Bloom supported the bicycle freeing Kiko to play a little not far from her sight, then she sat next to Oriana leaning her head on her shoulder, they simply stayed like that, in silence, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and feeling the warmth of the Sun around them. That until Kiko came back scared.

“What's wrong Kiko?” Bloom asked tenderly stroking the grayish head of his pet “Did you meet those terrifying squirrels again? Should we steal some of their nuts?”

But Kiko seemed determined to show them what scared him so much, if Bloom's pants tugging told them something, the redhead looked at her friend for advice from her but she was already standing, holding out her hand to help her stand up.

“You know that Kiko is insistent when he wants something, pets are like their owners” explained Oriana, making strength to pick her up.

“Are you insinuating something?” said Bloom mockingly as she began to walk following her rabbit through the trees “Because as far as I know Ketzy is still sleeping.”

“Error” a forked tongue came out near Oriana's neck, Bloom looked at her strangely before which her friend lowered her blouse a little by the shoulder showing the head of her pet snake, then she adjusted the blouse a little showing the redhead that the rest of the body was wrapped around his torso.

“Crazy, you're completely ready for the asylum” but without warning she was thrown to the ground feeling like something went over her head.

“Be quiet”, Oriana ordered being absorbed by the sight before them, she stretched out her arm so that her snake stayed near a bush and pushed Kiko slightly towards her who wrapped it up safely so Bloom decided to set her eyes on the clearing bordered by trees and ignore the head-high burn in the tree behind her.

The fine golden strands of her hair were the first thing that caught the girl's eye in the center of the clearing, perhaps because they shimmered in the sunlight or perhaps because they framed the tan-skinned beauty who had a scepter in her hands, dressed a bright orange top and shorts with boots of the same color up to below the knees, she wore silver bracelets on her wrists similar to the small ones that tied her hair in two pigtails, the most striking perhaps was what was on her back, blue , translucent, bright. Wings! Well, maybe the yellowish big ogre and the condensed shadow-like demons in front of her were also a bit conspicuous.

A guttural voice said strange words, the ogre probably if his mouth moving indicated something, but a soft bubbly voice countered it, Bloom lamented that she couldn't understand what they were talking about but the blond haired girl was clearly being attacked.

“What a bad luck! I don't understand anything!” Bloom complained in whispers to her friend.

“The ogre wants to take the scepter from the blonde, but the blonde doesn't plan to give it to him, something about a family inheritance or something like that,” Oriana murmured without taking her eyes off the battle, or maybe she did it for a second since she had a lever of iron between his hands, Bloom didn't notice when she got it “Pay more attention!”

Bloom decided to listen to her friend after being scolded, so she tried to sharpen her ear while she stroked Kiko's head in an attempt to reassure him, she knew that Ketzy would protect him.

“... princess... vile creature... with those disgusting demons! Burning sun!” A luminous ray came out of the silver scepter and seemed to cut several demons that were extinguished in an explosion of what she hoped was not blood, the stains on the ground they faded into little lights after a few seconds.

“Don't think too much of yourself princess, even with that scepter in your hands you will reach your limit” exclaimed the ogre sending more demons to the attack “You have been transformed for a long time to be a novice.”

The two friends looked worried, even without knowing what the ogre was referring to, they could notice that the blonde was already exhausted, her fall due to a blow from the ogre, he took away her scepter and the demons held her on the ground, that was their time to interfere… even if they weren't quite sure how.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” exclaimed Bloom true to herself, her desire to hit someone had been boiling under her skin since she met Mitzy, “Or else I... wait a minute, what can I do?”

“Attack her!” the ogre ordered fiercely, clinging to the scepter that he had worked so hard to get.

The result was three demons bated with an iron lever.

“You don't know, but I'm going to try to make them puree” Oriana exclaimed at the same time that she crushed the head of a demon against the ground making it explode, the stain that fell on her face only made her look lunatic “Go help her! I cover you!”

That was how Bloom found herself kicking and stomping on the four demons holding the pretty girl to the ground. Bloom was agitated, scared, with her body burning and feeling the pulsations of her heart that tried to burst her veins but she couldn't leave the girl no matter how much those demons scratched her, the alarm in the girl's honey eyes made her turning to see how half a dozen demons pounced on her, Oriana was busy hitting the other half and from the look of panic she gave her she realized that she would not arrive on time, everything depended on her but the only thing she could do was cover herself with her arms.

“KEEP AWAY!” Bloom felt the burn in her throat at the imperative roar, if she had closed her eyes she would have missed the reddish sphere that suddenly enveloped her repelling the demons, but exhaustion came just as quickly making her fall to the ground. knees.

“Oh! That really was a good attack” the blonde praised with a smile despite the clear effort she made to sit down after being freed from the demons “In Solaria we would be very pleased to have you in our army.”

Bloom noticed from a distance how Oriana sighed with relief to see that they were both safe, but it was that second of distraction that was enough for the ogre to capture her wrists and hold her in the air swinging her with one hand from one side to another, the girl stifled a groan of pain.

“Do you think some simple gaians can come and interfere?”

“Let her go right now!” The blonde demanded, stomping her foot on her lawn, “This is between you and me, ogre!”

“Well, they should have thought about it before interfering, now they will suffer the consequences!” The young woman he was holding murmured something with difficulty.

“LET ME GO!” Oriana ordered, releasing a solid explosion of energy that eliminated the remaining demons leaving only the three furthest from her and threw the ogre towards the trees dropping the scepter, the girl fell to the ground breathing hard and praying she didn't have an asthma attack right now, she had left her inhaler in the backpack which was in the basket of Bloom's bicycle.

Bloom ran over to her friend to check on her, she had always worried that she wouldn't be able to do anything during one of her attacks. The blonde walked up to them to pick up her scepter, then gazed with curious eyes at her two saviors, ideas flowing like a waterfall through her head. A groan caused all three girls to turn their heads towards the fallen ogre.

“Well, it's time to finish this, I need a good bath,” the blonde murmured before pointing at him, “I've got my scepter back, ogre, you have no chance of defeating me!”

Apparently he knew it since the three remaining demons approached him before disappearing. Bloom noticed that one of them had a piece of light blue cloth in his mouth so she looked down finding his bloody left calf and a piece of his pants missing, for a second she wondered how high his adrenaline was not to have felt that bite.

“That will leave a mark,” Bloom muttered annoyed, she liked those pants.

“That was a great fight, really…” the blonde said before closing her eyes and falling to the ground, between the two of them they barely managed to keep her from hitting her head, she was still breathing so it was probably just exhaustion, they just noticed that she was so hurt and scratched like them. Her two piece outfit changed into an equally weird orange and light blue dress, Bloom and Oriana looked at each other in confusion.

“Well… now what?”

Oriana shrugged.

╠━╣

The ogre appeared in a dark place covered in mist, the demons around him quickly dispersing at the sound of heels.

“You failed, Knut,” an icy voice drawled, making him shiver. “It's not the first time, but it could be the last.”

“It really wasn't my fault, miss, I had the scepter in my hands until those two gaians appeared...”

“Gaians?” questioned a second booming voice. “Ha! Tell us, Knut, how come two little Gaian girls could stop you from obeying our order?”

“They weren't normal, they fought the shadow demons and blew them up like nothing, they both used magic like faewyrds.”

“There have been no faewyrds on Gaia for centuries,” the first voice spoke again “describe them.”

“Well... they were... let me see...”

“Knut,” a third voice called his attention, this one was more attractive, “Where are your glasses?”

“Right here, miss,” the ogre said, taking it out of his pocket.

“Well, PUT THEM ON!” the three shouted at the same time.

“We told you not to take them off!” the second voice roared as it obeyed him. “An ogre with myopia, you have to see.”

“He just have to remember not to take them off, it's okay,” said the third voice.

“Stop defending him!”

“Silence!” ordered the first voice “Those gaian faewyrds could be of some use to us, I've read about them, capricious and arrogant, only their wishes matter...”

“One of the demons managed to rip a piece of her clothing off, a hunting troll might lead us to them.”

“Okay, go and get that scepter.”

“AND THIS TIME WITHOUT FAILS!”

╠━╣

Oriana fell exhausted on her bed once she reached her room, Ketzy wrapped around her arm before hissing in her face, the young woman smiled at her.

“We had a strange morning, don't you think, Ketzy?” The young woman turned her back, letting her pet cuddle up on her chest, while she tried to make sense of what had happened.

With some effort they managed to take the blonde to Bloom's house where they left her in the guest room and disinfected her wounds a little, Bloom managed to change before Vanessa arrived but Oriana had to go out the window to avoid being seen at that condition. She entered her house in silence and changed as quickly as possible, ignoring the pain in her body, then it was as if nothing happened and she told Vanessa that Bloom invited her to lunch, in whispers she found out that the redhead followed her suggestion to communicate that the blonde was Wanda's cousin who needed a place to stay, luckily it was a believable lie. A dry cough made her snake look at her, she took her inhaler without hesitation and put it in her mouth, although since that happened in the park she felt as if her chest had eased, her lungs hurt more than ever when she breathed, she could almost feel something scraping the walls of his lungs. She knew Bloom had a sore throat and she was sure it was because of the roar she let out, whatever they had done in the park had taken a toll on her bodies.

“You seem to have had an interesting morning,” said a sweet voice, the orange ghost that had accompanied her since she was a child appeared floating above her.

“How interesting can a strange fairy be when you have your own personal ghost?” she sneered.

“Oh, I remember the expression for that” the ghost smiled happily “Touché.”

“I've taught you well,” the dark-haired girl's expression fell. “What happened this morning, Daf?”

“I think deep down you know the answer Dyi” was the return of the ghost, her translucent hand caressed her hair although she couldn't touch it “Don't think about it now, sleep a little, you need to rest.”

With an ethereal chant of warm words Oriana fell asleep. It was hours later when Oriana woke up identifying the hand that was caressing her hair as Lorenzo's. His brown eyes drowned her in affection and reminded her of waking up that morning, it wasn't her fault...

“Did you have a good nap?” her brother asked in a sweet whisper.

“It was refreshing” and she wasn't lying, the pain in her body had diminished a bit “Bloom and I had a rather curious morning” she commented to him as if it wasn't important.

“As much as I want to hear that story which something tells me is more than curious we should wait, I woke you up because Father came back.”

“I thought he'd be at the station all weekend.”

“It seems that someone offered to take his turn, he is in the living room. Shall we?”

Oriana nodded as she accepted her brother's help to get up, waiting for Ketzy to snuggle up to her again before leaving her room. She would let her brother think she was crazy later.

╠━╣

It was during the night already in her bed when Bloom began to think about the madness that ended up getting into the morning, she was only supposed to wish Selina a good trip and then relax in the park with her other friend, she shouldn't end up fighting against shadow demons the size of dogs and an ogre of at least two meters to defend a complete stranger who shot beams of light and floated above the ground. She wasn't going to lie, a part of her was ecstatic despite the intense sore throat she still had from…whatever happened in the park, but there was another part of her (which she was pretty sure was influenced by Oriana) that didn't want to get excited about anything thinking that she was the one who caused that… magic.

Kiko went up to the bed in search of some pampering before sleeping, something that she was not sure of getting due to the fear that finally settled in her, now she could remember the sharp claws scratching her skin and the long teeth digging into her calf left, not to mention the bruises that would soon appear on his body. A few small tears fell from her eyes, she immediately covered her mouth with her hand to prevent any noise from coming out. She would have liked so much to call Oriana.

As the tiredness of the day hit her causing her drowsiness, the memories attacked her mind, the demons were too many, Oriana could not defend her, there were more ogres... Nightmares flooded her dreams causing a spark, a small one near the carpet next to the door, then another and another and another and…

Oriana woke up suddenly very agitated, in the afternoon she fell asleep from exhaustion so her mind had not been able to play with her but it was very different now. Everything was the same as in the morning but this time there was no magic to protect Bloom, she did not arrive on time, the two girls ended up disfigured and cold on the bloody ground, the ogre began to laugh before throwing her away to fall on the hard pavement covered in blood, now there were screams, dozens of people screaming, babies crying and women laughing, when the smoke reached his nose she woke up sitting up in bed, the problem was that the smell of smoke still remained. Little did she care if the noise the window made when she slammed it against the wall woke her brothers up.

There was smoke coming from Bloom's room.

Oriana doesn't remember opening the door to her house, only the one to the Peters' house, later she would realize that the pain in her body wasn't from the park or from how she skipped the steps of the stairs while running to her friend's room but for having jumped from her own room to the ground without hearing her brother's screams, but now only the door that stood between her and her friend in danger mattered.

“Bloom, get away from the door!” Oriana made sure to yell before throwing all her weight on the wood.

Bloom's tears streamed down her cheeks as she hugged Kiko against her chest. Cornered in the only part of the room that wasn't on fire, Oriana felt the wind push against her back as she walked through the fire to hug her friend protectively from her.

The wind sang in her ears, she heard hurried footsteps and the sound of the fire extinguisher before it stopped.

“And the fire?” Mike asked confused, looking up, Oriana noticed that there wasn't even a small flame left. There were burned areas, mostly near the door, but Bloom's papers were scattered throughout the room and the window was wide open with broken glass, no one could tell if there was a fire in the room or a hurricane.

“Did you take the door off its hinges?” Vanessa questioned in disbelief, Oriana noticed the pieces of the wall that fell off, then she noticed her two brothers behind her friend's mother, Lorenzo had a stony look on his face.

“You know, right now I'd love to hear about your pretty curious morning.”

End of Chapter 1

#winx au #winx rewrite #winx club rewrite #winx bloom #winx stella #winx oc #winx trix #sunset blue wings #orbis alius season 1

[cursed-domain]

Experiments

Mahito x Reader, WC ~3.9k

Mahito’s been testing out his powers for a while now. He wants to do something different with his latest victim. Something a little more... human.

warnings: NSFW and Dark Content - NONCON if that is not your thing do not read any farther. You have been warned. Also fear, tears, kidnapping, possessiveness, oral sex, biting, slapping and uh. Mahito. I think he deserves a warning of his own.

You stayed out just a little too late last night. And you walked home alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that was a bad idea, but - the bar was right down the street from your apartment building, and your friends were - well, they were scattered, and they were hard to find, and you were sure that you could walk straight if you only tried. Your heels were only a couple inches high. 

Maybe you’d somehow fallen right down a drain in the sidewalk last night. Maybe it was too dark to notice, and you were more tipsy than you thought. But that theory doesn’t fit with your last memory aboveground. It doesn’t explain the presence you felt behind you, the feeling that something heavy and hateful had manifested right over your shoulder. 

Most importantly, there are no scratches or scrapes anywhere on your body. You can’t have fallen. You were brought here. Hidden away beneath the street into a tunnel you had no idea existed. And your host has been kind enough to keep you in perfect condition. You’re not even dirty from where you’ve clearly been crumpled on the floor - somehow, the stone corridor is perfectly clean.

As you sit up, all these thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Your shell-shocked stream of consciousness doesn’t give way to panic until a hand from behind you lands on your shoulder. Its owner doesn’t even let you scream - he claps his other hand over your mouth before you have the chance to open it, and leans down so that you feel his hot breath in your ear. “Boo.” 

You strain against his hand when you hear his voice. It doesn’t sound - well, you’re not quite sure what you expected a kidnapper to sound like. Maybe a lower voice. Certainly a sinister one. But he just sounds excited and mischievous, like a child who’s gotten away with a prank. So lighthearted in what is, for you, such a dire situation - it sends a shiver up your spine to imagine his grin.

You don’t have to imagine for long. His hand slinks from your shoulder up your neck, taking root in your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to look up. It is dim in the tunnel, but you see his face clearly. You register, in a far-off place in your mind, that it is pretty, almost feminine. Your impression is that his face is far too fine compared to the coarseness of his mouth and his hands, even with the strange scars stitching their way across the unnaturally smooth skin.  

“Don’t look so terrified. Or do. I kinda like it.” Your eyes stretch even wider. “Yeah - I really like it, actually. Stay just like that.” When he speaks for longer, you notice the eerie quality of the cavern - the way it causes sounds to echo and reverberate down its walls. Farther down, you hear the drip-drip-drip of dirty water hitting the floor. But here - not even a drop. It’s as if the space has been cleared of its usual filth, just for you. “Okay,” he says, “I actually wanna hear you, too.” He doesn’t wait for a response before taking his hand from your mouth and letting go of your hair. 

Your heels - they must have fallen off. Or he took them off. In any case - you can run. You know it’s pointless as soon as you stand up. You know even the time you take to rise to your feet is enough for him to grab onto you again. But you have to try. So you do. You’re surprised to get any distance at all. You’re shocked to have made it ten paces - twenty - thirty. Even sprinting with the adrenaline-spiked speed of someone who fears for her life, this shouldn’t be possible. But you find yourself starting to hope. You’re fast, and maybe he was caught off guard. Maybe, just maybe, you can make it to the light you see shining at the mouth of the tunnel. It’s not that far away. And once you’re out there, on the street, he won’t be able to do anything. You’ll make it home and forget this ever happened. Even now, you’re wondering if it’s all a dream. If you’re going to wake up once you hit that light - closer now, so close - snug in your bed, wondering how you managed to make it home last night but relieved that you did. Yes. That has to be it. This isn’t real, and you’re going to escape it so, so soon -

A rush of cold air streaks past you, and your captor appears in front of you, grinning as he blocks your path. You try to step to the side, but he’s already there. Back the other way - he beats you again. You feel your will collapse in on itself as he steps forward and snakes his hand around your waist, laughing unabashedly as you struggle. “Not bad,” he says. “Of course, I gave you a pretty big head start. But still. You run pretty fast for someone who could barely walk the night before.”

You’re so close to him that you’re sure he must be able to hear your heart pounding. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself back, you find yourself looking up at his face again. His eyes are pretty, too. But they’re mismatched - one is a light gray and the other is deep blue - and unblinking. Seeing them up close only makes his presence more unnerving. He grins crookedly as you make eye contact with him, staring back without saying a word.

“What - why -” you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the ground where his bare feet are nearly on top of yours. “Please. Let me go.”

“Nuh-uh. No way.” He pushes you back at arms length and leans over you, his face coming so close to yours that your eyes unfocus trying to look at him. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Done…”

“Mhm.” He takes your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove to get you moving. You shudder - your dress has an open back, so his hand didn’t just touch your clothes, but your bare skin. And it’s so short, too. He’s probably staring as you walk, tracing your curves with those unnatural eyes. He looked down when he had you pressed up against him. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

“That’s far enough.” You stop, not even daring to turn around. He slithers around you instead, dragging his hand over the back of your dress again as he passes, keeping a hold on you and pulling you close again. “You’re gonna help me out with some things today, alright?”

When you hesitate, his long fingernails tighten against your skin. He’ll draw blood if he presses any harder. “What…what do you want?”

“I’ve been doin’ some experiments down here.” His nails drag down the curve of your back, only stopping at your hips. “Been learning what I’m capable of. I’ll show you the other test subjects if I have to but… I think I’ve already convinced you to cooperate, right?” He tugs on the hem of your dress, sliding his fingertips underneath the edge of the thin fabric. “You don’t seem ready to meet anyone right now, anyways. Not as if they’re really in a state to talk to you.”

You stare blankly, resisting the urge to squirm as his hand trails up the back of your thigh. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’re going to be leaving this place alive.

“Lots of room down here,” he says. “Plenty of dark corners. But I think I’m gonna keep you right here.” 

“Please..” you say.

“Hmm?” He smiles a second later, once he understands. “Please don’t kill you, right? Don’t mutate your pretty body and then throw you somewhere no one will ever find you?” Your mind amends mutate to mutilate. The intellectual victory does nothing to comfort you. “Don’t worry. ‘m not gonna do that. Not yet, anyways.” His nails are scraping very high on your thigh, now, and the other hand is weaving its way through your hair. His fingers seem to bend strangely around you, as if they have no set form at all, as if they’re molding to best fit your body as he claims it piece by piece. “You’re just gonna help me out a little, okay? “You’re gonna help me figure out what else I’m capable of.”

He grips the top of your head and forces it up and down, mimicking a nod, laughing impishly as you glare up at him. “So sweet of you. We’ll take this one step at a time, alright?”

You don’t understand until he leans over you, running a fingertip across your lips to part them slightly before meeting them with his own. You try to recoil, but the hand toying with your dress runs up your back and presses you forward, forcing you deeper into the kiss instead. It’s unexpectedly gentle, at first, but as your body is forced flush against his it becomes more messy, more hungry. He shoves his tongue against yours and grips your hair tight enough for it to hurt, only drawing back for long enough to bite your lip and watch a string of drool drip across the faint indent he’s left behind. You gasp for breath until he swallows up your mouth again, using his tongue to reach every place he can. 

You stay in place even when he relaxes his grip. He only stops to speak once he has, it seems to you, tried every kind of kiss he can think of - fast, slow, shallow, violent, hungry, sloppy. “You’re doing good,” he says, flashing the same smile as before. “Good start. Amazing, really…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and the softer smile is replaced by a cold grin. “Take your dress off.” 

“Wh -”

“Take it off. Take off whatever you have underneath it, too. I don’t care about seeing it.”

“But -” 

“But - but -” He laughs again, practically giggles as he mocks your faint protests. “You don’t wanna die, either, do you?”

Mute, you shake your head.

“Actually…” He turns you around again, and you think you hear him sigh faintly as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking too long. I’ll just do it myself.” He gives you no time to react before tugging on the zipper of your short dress, so violently that it hitches on the teeth and nearly breaks off. Only the second time does he do it right, pulling it all the way down in a smooth motion. The dress only covered from your lower back to a few inches down your thighs, anyways, and now even that protection is stripped away. The front of your body is exposed, too, as he tugs the thin garment along with your panties down to the stone ground beneath your feet.

Every muscle in your body tenses as his own bare skin collides with yours, his worn pants pulled down to rest alongside your dress. “Didn’t even wear anything beneath the dress up here,” he mutters. He reaches from behind you, groping your tits with no regard for the way you whine and squirm. “Making it so easy for me, aren’t you?”

“No,” you gasp. “Didn’t wear anything there. I should have -”

He claws his nails over the delicate peaks of your breasts, and you bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Interesting. That’s a sweet spot, huh?” You shiver as he clamps down on you again. “You got any more I should know about?”

“No…” You lie, as if anything you say now will help you. He’s tracing every inch of your skin already, down your stomach and hips and up your thighs, squeezing and pinching when you least expect it, mapping you out like you’re the first person he’s been this close to in his life. 

“You sure?” He taps his fingertips along the creases that connect the tops of your thighs to your body, pressing close against you and breathing hot in your ear. Making sure you hear and feel his excitement. “We’re gonna test that out, too. So spread out your legs. They’re getting in the way.” 

You clench your fists tight and do as he says, shifting on either side to allow him easy access to every part of you. Still, you reflexively pull your hips back as his fingers climb their way towards your cunt, cringing when your sudden motions make his cock pulse against your skin. 

“What’re you doing that for?” He cups his hand between your legs, ending your desperate attempts to squirm away. “Not like you’re going anywhere, right?” He pulls his hand back, showing you the wet sheen that’s rubbed off on his fingers. “I don’t think you would even if you could. But if you want, I’ll let you run again. Give you ‘til the count of ten before I start chasing you. Maybe even twenty or thirty. Maybe I’ll let you see the street before I drag you back here.” He lets go of you, grabbing your arms and using them to turn you back the way you ran before. “We’ll do it now, actually. Run! I’ll be not-quite-right-behind you.”

You shake your head. 

“Come onn. It’ll be fun. Or - well, I’ll have fun.” Your feet stay rooted to the ground. He looks genuinely disappointed, for a moment, as if he actually expected you to take him up on his inane offer. “Fine.” He shoves down on your shoulders, and you follow the motion, crumpling down to your knees with no resistance. “You can entertain me this way instead, then.” Now that he’s in front of you again, you look for the first time. You’re equal parts curious and repelled by the stitch-like markings that continue down the rest of his body. If you were thinking clearly, you’d wonder if they were perhaps tattoos, and why anyone would choose to do something like that to themselves. But the crisscrossing lines guide you far too quickly down the length of his frame, forcing your curious eyes down below his hips before you have the sense to close them. 

He tilts his head, sizing up your expression before flicking his eyes down your body and then back up to meet yours. “You’ve definitely done this before. So do it right.” Your eyes are almost as wide as your mouth as he closes the last inches between you and him. “Make it feel how it’s supposed to.” You nod blanlky as you wonder how you’re supposed to fit him all the way in your mouth. Maybe you won’t have to. He’s so obviously inexperienced, so eager… maybe you can end this quickly. 

You drag the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock, forcing yourself to look up at him as you give the same slow treatment to the sides and the tip before taking the shaft in your hand. He stares back, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth as it works over his cock. He’s breathing harder already, less than halfway into your mouth, almost letting the breaths tip over the edge into moans as your tongue flicks up his length again. It takes a concerted effort not to close your eyes, to not let your resolve crumble. 

It has started to happen already. He was right in his crude assessment of you - you do know what you’re doing - but you’ve never been so terrified with a cock in your mouth, never felt like your life depended on your ability to please the man in front of you. Your strokes become sloppy as you let panic edge into the corners of your vision.

“Fuck,” he groans. Your one free hand clenches into a fist as he grabs you at the nape of your neck and thrusts forward, holding you still as he forces his cock back into your throat. “Fuck.” You feel him writhe in your mouth just as his fingers did in your hair, molding himself to the contours of your throat as he fucks your face over and over, only becoming more frantic as you start to struggle against his hand, more frenzied as you gag and drool around him, until finally - finally - you’re tugged forward one last time, your lips pulled taught as hot liquid spurts down your throat. He keeps you there as you continue struggling for breath, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and smearing your drool across your face. 

When you’re finally allowed to pull back, you wrap your arms around yourself, shrinking inwards as you whisper, “Please. May I go now?”

“Huh?” He crouches down until his face is level with yours, crossing his arms over his knees as he sinks to the ground. You try to keep your eyes on his face - it’s practically glowing, his eyes wild and bright, their contrasting colors even more apparent. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Just taking a little break.” 

You freeze for a second before scrambling backwards. It’s absolutely stupid, but - he said he wanted you to run. So he won’t get mad at you for trying one last time. And maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe you’ll get out. Maybe he was lying and he’s actually ready to see you go. Maybe seeing you run naked and sobbing onto the street will be enough to satisfy him, and he won’t chase you any farther.

He gives you five paces before pouncing, pinning you to the ground with one hand wrapped tight around your throat, turning you over so he can see the fear written on your face. “Guess what?” He whispers it into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, nearly hard enough to split your skin open. You feel something hard pressing into your stomach, swelling as you cry out in pain. “Break is over.” He drags his tongue over cheek and traces it down your jaw before kissing you right where the bite mark still glows red on your skin. Using both hands to pin your wrists down at your sides, he drags his way down your body, running his tongue over your breasts, your navel, around the triangle between your thighs. “I usually don’t care much about what’s fair, but - I really think I should return the favor.” His eyes flit down to your legs, squeezed tightly together. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?” He works two fingers between thighs and prys them open. 

You hold back a whimper as he dives into the space between, dragging the flat of his tongue voraciously over your hot cunt. He’s sloppy, ignoring the way your eyes are glued to his face as he tests and probes your cunt, teasing the opening and forcing his tongue inside, giving no pause before swallowing the sheen left behind. You have to squeeze your eyes shut. You have to tell yourself not to give in to the heat sweeping through your core, not to accept even a tiny bit of pleasure from the man defiling you, but - it’s so, so difficult. So strange to feel someone so obviously selfish pleasing you, even if it’s by accident, even if it’s just for his own enjoyment - you can’t stop yourself from pushing your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Can’t stop yourself from moaning as his fingers find your clit. 

He pulls away, laughing at the whine that escapes from your mouth. “Tastes better than I thought,” he says. “But you  - you’re reacting just like I thought. It’s like your mind’s melting away.” He pinches your clit between two fingers, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. “You’re being controlled by this now.”

You just manage to shake your head. “No - no. I’m still - I don’t -”

He pounces on top of you again, thrusting his fingers into your open mouth. “Shhh. You don’t have to talk. That’s not what you’re here for.” He grinds against you, his cock already pushing at the entrance to your cunt as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, nearly making you gag as he pushes relentlessly into your throat. “You’re here to help me out, right? And you’ve been doing so good. So good for me.” You don’t want your stomach to flutter at the praise. Not here, not from him. You try your best to ignore it, tell yourself to close your eyes as he all but fucks your thighs. 

When you try to screw them shut, though, he puts his pinky right on your eyelid and drags up, forcing it to flutter open again. “Ah-ah,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see how this makes you feel.” He presses his hips hard against yours, guiding himself nearly all the way inside you in a single motion. “Fuck.” His eyes nearly close as he savors the feeling of you tightening around him, but he keeps them open just wide enough to see your lips open wide, forming an O around the fingers still scraping against your tongue. “I’m keeping you here forever. Understand?” The drool from his fingers smudges across your cheek as he grabs the sides of your face, squeezing as he shoves farther inside you, over and over again, only spurred on by the sloppy noises he hears every time the two of you connect. “Gonna be - gonna be my fucking toy forever. I’ll keep you on a fucking leash if I have to.” 

All you can do is whimper and blink back your tears. He brushes his tongue across your face, licking them away as they overflow. “You look so scared. So mad.” He’s slowing himself down, now. Making it last. “It’s cute. Stay just like that, okay?” He presses on the corners of your mouth, forcing it deeper into a scowl. “So fucking cute.”

Your eyes match the anger he’s forced onto your mouth. Somehow, this moment feels worse than everything that’s come before. He’s playing with your face now. Trying to make it his, just like your body. And something about that - it breaks your daze. And your arms aren’t pinned anymore. There’s nothing you can do to make him stop, but. You feel the overwhelming urge to do something.

You reach up and slap him. Right across his pretty face, turning it sharply aside just as his cock buries itself all the way inside your cunt, reaching farther than you thought anyone ever could. His eyes widen, and his grip on your face tightens to a vise. You think that just once, you’ve managed to shock him.

Your faint sense of victory fades when you feel his cock pulse unmistakably inside you. 

“Oh -” he sighs blissfully as he releases inside you, and you go limp as he collapses into your shoulder. A moment later, he turns his head and whispers in your ear. “Very interesting.” You can practically feel his grin radiating against your neck. “I’m definitely keeping you, now. So many things to try…” You squirm as he shifts on top of you, his face hovering right over your own. “And you’re gonna help me with every single one.”

#▪️new content▪️ #jujutsu kaisen #mahito #jjk #mahito x reader #mahito smut #dark smut

[rexann]

↳ AFTER SEX WITH HQ CHARACTERS!

cw // nsfw, suggestive themes.

include // kuroo, sakusa, suna, semi.

note // time-skip age, grammatical errors, not proofread.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 stirred his head, he shut down his eyes back the moment he opened his eyes and the sun immediately hit him. He was about to turn around when he felt the weight on his arms. And then he finds your figure, sleeping comfortably, hugging him loose.

A lazy smile crept up to his lips, he put back down his head to the pillow, moving his arms around your waist to pull your body closer to him.

“Mhm,” you whined, his movement waking you up, “too early, Tetsurou.”

His bare chest rubbing against yours, making a little blush appear on his ears, recalling your ablaze sex the night before.

“You have class at 9 though.” He reminded you of your schedule for today.

Your whines getting louder. “Screw college.”

Kuroo laughs deeply, soothing your hair with his rough palm. “I will let you hang out with the team later. How about that?”

You imagine hanging out with the MSBY team, and because you missed them so badly, you quickly sat up beside him, earning his chuckles.

The sudden movement makes your lower body sting and you hissed, Kuroo immediately gets up and checks on you.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Of course, smartass, down there.”

“Oh. My bad.”

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 trying to catch his breath after his release, still caging you between his arms, and after a little while, he slips out of you, earning a bit of groan from you and him.

“Omi,” you sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, his back against you as you ran your fingers on his spine.

“Mhm?” He answered, turning his head slightly, looking at you over his shoulder. The view of you, laying there with your naked body makes him a little bit flustered even after the amazing sexual intercourse.

You scooted closer to him, “where are you going? Stay here a bit longer, please.”

Sakusa grabs your hand on his hip and says, “there's no way in hell I'm gonna sleep without taking a shower after this.”

You chuckled, let him have his way as he stood up and patted your head, “I'm gonna draw you a bath.”

“Thank you, Omi.” You kissed his palm slightly.

“Don't mention it, pretty girl.”

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 rintarou is always up to the second round. It's kinda his thing. You always have the urge to bonk him on the head because of this, but how could you resist when he kissed you ever so sweetly while rubbing up and down your body like this.

“I promise this is going to be quick,” he grunt to your ear, hands gripping your waist while he holds himself from thrusting back into you.

You take a look at the clock on the walls over his shoulder, it's almost time for Suna to go training with his team.

“Quick on your point of view is different, it always ends up being almost an hour.” You complained.

Suna chuckled, “it isn't like you would resist me, though.”

“Yeah whatever, but you have to go training with your team at 10, Rin, you can't be late again.” You scolded him.

He turned his head back, checking the clock, 30 minutes left. He stares back at you, “15 minutes is enough for me.”

You squeal when Suna suddenly lifts you up from the bed and presses you against the wall, slowly thrusting into you again.

You moaned, “I hate you.”

Suna laughed, “Your pussy says otherwise.”

𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐈 eita, the guitarist of the band that performed at your best friend's party in the club last night, laying down beside you in the morning. Naked. Hell, even you didn't know where the fuck you are right now. This room is absolutely not familiar to you.

Then you stare at his face, calm and more handsome in the daylight. The memories from last night are still clear in your mind because you weren't even that drunk from the beginning.

You quickly pull the bed sheet up to cover your bare chest when his eyes suddenly move to open slowly. And the first thing Semi sees this morning is your bare face. Your hair is still messy but that's what makes you even prettier.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and gruff, propped his elbow to rest his head on his palm, staring back at you.

“Ah, uhm,” you cleared your throat before answering him, “hello. Good morning.”

Semi snorted as he smirked, “still up for breakfast?”

“I—uhh,” you hesitated for a moment before he cut you off.

“We're at my apartment, I'm fully responsible for you, so after we have breakfast, I can take you home.”

“Oh. Yeah, cool.”

“Cool. You can take a bath first, I'm making us breakfast.”

#hq smut #hq fanfic #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #suna x reader #suna rintarou #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #semi x reader #semi eita #nekoma #inarizaki #itachiyama #shiratorizawa #nsftumblr

[sugawara-sweetheart]

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰 (𝔪)

❥oikawa tōru x fem!reader

❥summary: your new husband, oikawa toru, is the epitome of hell

❥warnings: forced marriage + abusive parents, forced isolation, yandere-ish and controlling behaviour, emotional abuse, dubcon/noncon, ill-prepped sex + blood, sacrilege, breeding kink + babytrapping *if i have missed any please let me know!!!!!

❥word count: 3.2k

your funeral dress is your wedding dress. a white gown that should be black, a bouquet of bright flowers that should be wilted roses, the knife slicing into the cake that should be cutting right through your heart and a forced watery smile and happy tears that should be mourning sobs as you feel every last fighting part of your soul collapse.

you should’ve known it was coming. it’d been your reality for months leading up to it, coming to terms with the darkness enclosing in on you. the first time you saw his face it was a photograph on your mother’s phone, a little smile on her face.

“this is him. isn’t he handsome? you’re a lucky one.” you can’t deny that he isn’t. tall with an athletic build, warm brown eyes and silky hair, skin bronzed from the Argentinian sun. he was supposed to be every girl’s dream- a star volleyball player with a luxurious home, paparazzi and journalists clinging to his every word, sponsorships and photoshoots and a charming character everyone glorifies.

but not you. maybe it was his superficial smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes or the heavy instinctual twinge that settled in you when you stared at his face, but you didn’t like this man. the very sight of him made your stomach turn and as you turned to your parents with pleading eyes, you begged. anyone. anyone else- you didn’t care about money, about their job, about them but as long as it wasn’t this man sending shivers down your spine. but they refused. badly. angry snarls and bitter words burned in your ear, heavy threats and viciousness that you were really left with no choice. the only thing you could do was hold back your stinging tears as you forced yourself to read sports magazines and articles till your teary eyes were sore and bloodshot, trying to pretend that you could love this man. that you could force a lifelong commitment of marriage, be his wife. the woman he’d lie in bed with at night, the one he woke up with, the one he was going to be intimate with but also show to the world. he was the man whose kids you’d be forced to bear, who you’d be bound to for life.

the first time you meet him is on your wedding day. oikawa tōru.

he’s the perfect charm, but in between the ceremony, the speeches and the dance you don’t get to speak to him alone till you’re in the hotel room. your wedding gown is stiff, the corset cinching your waist till it’s painful, the lace sleeves beginning to itch and a thick lump resides in your dry throat as you settle at the end of the bed. how superficial is this glorious honeymoon suite of a luxurious hotel with the baskets of fruit and chocolate, the complementary champagne with the congratulatory greetings card. all fake. all a facade concocted by your parents and oikawa- and how he’s able to smile at you so sweetly as he loosens the tie of his tuxedo, like none of this is wrong, utterly confuses you.

“you must be tired.” his smile is all wrong, even the little crinkle in his eyes, his saccharine voice. it makes your blood run cold and you want nothing more than to curl up in on yourself, to get away from him as much as possible. but you can’t. he’d find you, or your parents would find you and drag you back. there’d be nowhere to go. no escape. “would you like me to help you undress?” he steps forward but stops suddenly when you raise your hands in protest, a look of surprise etching on his face.

“i can undress in the bathroom.” is all you say as you walk across to the hotel suite away from him.

you inhale sharply, locking the bathroom door and pressing yourself against it, wishing there was more than two inches of wood separating you and that man you’re forced to call your husband. shivers run down your spine as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. y/n oikawa. you’re his now. you stare at the unfamiliar figure until tears blur your vision too much and you can’t see yourself anymore.

you stop in the doorway when you return to the main suite, your throat growing dry as you stare at oikawa lying on the bed. he beams at you, eyes sparkling as he takes in your figure and you’re suddenly feeling too exposed in the silk nightdress your mother prepared.

“come on,” he smiles, winking cheekily as he pats the space next to him. “i don’t bite.” your legs shake as you stalk towards the bed, swallowing at its size. you’d never thought that a spacious king-sized bed would be too small, too suffocating when you have oikawa staring at you, a strange gleam in his eye that gives you a harsh sense of unease.

you’re tense when you lay down and oikawa props himself up, smiling as he rakes his eyes over you. it’s horribly scrutinising- it’s like being under a microscope as he picks you apart with just his sugared smile, orbs narrowing and his smile seeming so wry.

“you’re a very beautiful woman.” he finally speaks. it sounds like a lie. so horribly sweet it’s sickly and you have to resist the urge to flinch when he reaches out to twine a stray lock of hair around his finger. “i’m so happy i chose you.” your mouth tastes sour and your body feels icy as he releases your hair, trailing a finger down your throat, along your collarbone. he hooks it under the flimsy strap of your dress and that’s when you can’t control the panicked squeal that escapes you.

“please. n-not tonight.” oikawa looks half surprised, half stunned at the sudden bout of emotion you release.

“fine.” he smiles, but it doesn’t fill you with relief when he releases your strap, grazing his finger back along your collarbones and throat. it lingers too long on your neck, his brown eyes piercing into you and your stomach drops when you realise he’s not looking into your eyes.

you finally realise why you feel so uneasy when he stares at you.

he looks at you like you’re prey.

it’s anxiety-inducing, living with oikawa tōru. even after the honeymoon when you finally return to his home, you’re in a constant state of unease. you don’t seem to be able to sleep well, staring at the dark ceiling for hours with your body tense, even way after oikawa’s breathing falls slow and steady. your appetite has dissipated, your tightly-knotted stomach now churning with nausea and every time you hear that silky, saccharine voice and feel his coarse fingers tracing along your shoulders- his favourite way to make his presence known- you can’t help but start, heart pounding against your rib cage. you’re certain he’s noticed- his eyes are sharp and perceptive- but a part of you wonders whether he enjoys it, whether his wide smile is out of sick entertainment.

but he isn’t a bad husband, which seems to confuse you the most. it’s strange living in a new country with the hot sun beating down on you, unfamiliar language surrounding your ears and no friends or family for company. the only person you have is oikawa, and he knows it. his hand grips yours tight whenever you leave the house, and it only ever is with him. he talks a lot but he never tells you the important things. he doesn’t tell you important words you may need to know like ‘help’ or ‘police’ or ‘phone’ but instead laughs when you ask about them, waving a dismissive hand. he points out the best department store for the finest clothes and makeup but raises an eyebrow when you ask where the closest train station is, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

“and why would you need to know that when i’m here, y/n?” he taps the tip of your nose and a sour taste lingers in your mouth as you hold back the nasty words you want to spit at him. how humiliating.

oikawa becomes all you know. your day is empty spent in a luxurious home, looking beautiful in the pretty yet stiff clothes your husband buys you, painting your face in the makeup he fills your draws with yet you have nothing to do. the maids who clean your home and leave the food in the fridge don’t look at you as they work and the gardener barely gives you a second glance, leaving you feeling invisible with only your alienated thoughts filling your mind. the silence is deafening yet lonesome, that when the front door slams shut and you hear oikawa’s footsteps against the marble hallway floor, you’re rushing to greet him with your cheeks burning.

you’re never happy to see him. no, your life would be a thousand times better if he hadn’t ever been forced into it, but you still run like a dog at a bell whenever he comes home from a long day of training, his tanned skin and brown locks wet with sweat.

“tōru!” you breathe, and hearing his soft voice, his sadistic chuckle, breaks the suffocating silence you’re confined to. maybe he enjoys it. maybe he enjoys seeing your face lighten up with human contact because when he opens his arms and pouts his lips to press a kiss to your forehead you don’t resist.

but he’s not your husband because you want him to be. just when you think you’re okay with him insisting on kissing your cheek or feeding you the fruits he bought home from the market or pulling you into his arms when you’re watching a television show in a language you don’t understand but he knows perfectly, your skin crawls and you remember that you hate him.

your voice cracks on the first phone call home back to your mother. her cheery, almost proud voice rings in your ears, not knowing she was part of the reason why you feel so numb, so broken and so trapped.

“mum, i don’t like it here.” you tell her quietly, playing with the thick telephone cord. “please let me come home. i don’t like him.” she laughs at you, an awkward titter that has tears stinging your eyes. you’re tired.

“give it some time, you just need to adjust. stop being ungrateful.” she scoffs and you can imagine her rolling her eyes, her tone mocking like she’s speaking to a child. “he’s a good man.”

an icy coldness runs over your tensed body when you hear the shuffle in the doorway and you turn to lock eyes with oikawa. his brown orbs look so dark, his brow furrowed slightly and even though a smile stretches across his face, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“ah, y/n-chan,” he beams. “tell your mother i said hi.”

oikawa isn’t quite the same after that day. if it didn’t already feel like a noose was hanging around your throat, it definitely felt tighter, like the life was being squeezed from you. suddenly oikawa is everywhere, weighing down on you but it’s heavy, oppressive, cruel. you can expect your phone to call every hour, the picture of himself he set on your phone flashing up on the screen like clockwork with the same mindless questions. he knows you have nothing to do, no one to speak to, no life except the moment he gets home and infests your space with his existence. but he was sweet before, even if it still made you shudder. now he was nasty.

disapproval is etched on his face as he watches you get ready in the morning, your hand shaking as you apply lipstick when you see his eyes pierce into you in the reflection of the mirror. it makes your heart race, cold sweat dampening your palms as your stomach churns in anticipation from what words would fall from his lips.

“red lipstick makes you look like a whore. i don’t want people thinking my wife is a slut.” he spits. you don’t hesitate to wipe it off.

there’s always more. humiliating you with harsh jokes and only speaking in spanish when you meet his teammates, leaving you alienated as you try to cling to their words, try to laugh along when they sneer and chuckle at you, oikawa’s laugh always ringing the loudest. chastising in a cruel, sneering tone over the simplest of things leaves you anxious and wary, hands trembling whenever you intend to do just the slightest, most natural of things because you’re aware of his heavy gaze piercing into you, scrutinising you for faults, leaving you scared almost for whatever harsh words will be spat from his lips this time. your comfort was little before, being forced into being the wife of a stranger you didn’t want in your life, but now all of that had been diminished. you aren’t just unfortunate now. you’re trapped.

“i bet you feel so lonely here.” his words cut through the silence one day, eyes fluttering open and locking onto yours. and with his head in your lap, your fingers forced to run through his hair like a puppet doll, you can’t look away, you can’t ignore him or the smirk tugging at his lips. “having no friends, no family, no one except me.” he chuckles but you’re not sure what’s the funny bit. “your parents don’t call much do they? and your friends forgot about you when you left japan?” he shakes his head a little, eyes sparkling with cold amusement. “you really don’t have anyone to care about you except me, right?”

your throat tightens as his words ring in your mind and you realise he’s right. it doesn’t matter if you hate him, if you feel sick and trapped and hopeless when looking at him and his cruel smile, you really do have no one but him. there’s nothing to do but be his.

the scent of vanilla hangs heavy in the bedroom, orange candlelight illuminating but it’s anything but romantic or peaceful when you’re pinned onto the mattress. oikawa’s legs are on either side of your body, trapping you in with his hands pressed against your shoulders. it hurts, his nails pierce into your skin and your throat is tight, barely being able to breathe in the warm, thick, perfumed air that lingers.

“i’ve waited long enough.” he groans, slowly rocking his hips against you. your silk nightdress is bunched at your waist, your fingers gripping the cloth as his stiff, hard cock glides against your folds. you can’t deny that you’re getting wetter, each brush along your cunt building sensitivity as you shudder. oikawa looks drunk, his eyes growing heavy-lidded and cheeks flushing with a pink glow, a brief smile tugging at his lips between breathy sighs. “you’re my wife. this is right.” it stings when he pinches your chin and traces his fingers on the soft skin of your face before his lips meet yours.

it’s the first time you’ve kissed him. his lips are too much and you cringe at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours, forcing itself between your lips and invading your mouth. you mewl, but it’s laced with discomfort as your back arches off the bed, but you have nowhere to go with oikawa weighing you down. “my sweet wife.” he purrs, resting his wet lips agsinst yours and curling his fingers around your throat.

“tōru,” you hiss when his cockhead meets your entrance, your sweating hands gripping the cloth of your nightdress tighter, heart thumping against your ribcage. “w-wait-”

“be a good wife to me, y/n-can.” it sounds sweet, like a gentle plead but his fingers tightening around your throat and the cockhead almost nudging into your hole gives you no choice. “God of creation, in the beginning, You told adam and eve to be fruitful and to multiply and to have dominion over the animals here on earth.” a shaky cry falls from your lips as he slowly slides the weeping head of his cock into your tight hole. it burns, the stretch stinging even with the first couple of inches and your walls clamp tight, a distressed groan escaping. his hand releases your throat, the skin pulsating and bruised, to travel down to your chest, pinching your nipples sharply through the thin fabric, making you wince. “father, i pray that in our marriage we continue to be fruitful and multiply.” his words ring in your ears, sounding so distant like your head has been plunged underwater. it burns, his cock forcing itself into your cunt and ripping through the flesh as deep groans fall from his lips. “let us do this physically with children who are blessings that come from You.” his fingers pinch your nipples harder, pain rushing through you. your throat tightens. the tears are hot streaming down your face. “let us also do this spiritually by birthing ministries that You have called us to birth and by making disciples that You have selected.” his moans are heavy gasps, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he sheaths the last few inches of his throbbing length into your tight pussy, his chest pressed against yours and his breath hot and heavy as it ghosts your lips. “a-amen.” orange candlelight orbs and his brown eyes glimmer through your tears as he grips your face, tugging it to face him as your cunt aches with the searing pain. “say it, sweet girl.”

“a-amen.” his lips press against yours, swallowing the weeps that fall from your lips as he starts to rock his hips into you.

the pain never fully dissipates. scarlet bleeds out onto the pristine bedsheets, dyed in the candlelight. his shadow flickers on the walls as he fucks into you, chanting your name with deep groans and heavy-lidded eyes rolling to the back of his head, harsh fingertips pinching and swirling your clit. your bloodied, torn walls cling tight to his cock, your own moans muffled as you bite your trembling bottom lip, trying to bury your face into the pillow as he pounds into you but there’s no evading his hungry kisses or the bites he traces down your throat.

“cum for me.” he coos and you shudder as his tongue darts out to lick up the silvery tears that roll down your cheeks. “cum for me right now.”

beaten down into submission. his wife. your orgasm is forced from you, bloodied slick drooling from your pussy as he swallows your moans, his hips snapping against yours faster and groaning as your walls clench around him.

“i’ll give you my cum.” he murmurs against your hot, bruised skin. “i’ll fill up your pussy with my cum, make you nice and swollen with my child. then you’ll always be mine.”

you cry out when his cum floods your pussy, so deep and warm and sticky, filling you up entirely as you whine. your hands tremble as you lift your dress, horrified to see the pink globules dribbling down your thighs when he pulls out.

you’re frozen when he lies beside you, wrapping his arms around your shaking body and pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. “you’re such a sweet wife to me.” he murmurs. “i’ll never let you go.”

#tw.emotional abuse #tw.yandere #tw.forced marriage #tw.dubcon #cw sacrilege #darkconfectionery #yandere oikawa #yandere!oikawa #yandere oikawa imagines #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere haikyuu fic #yandere haikyuu imagines #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #oikawa x reader #dark haikyuu #tw.breeding #tw.babytrapping

[eberles]

Sundress Szn

Jamie Oleksiak

a/n: this was not requested, but i hope you guys like it! feedback is always welcome🥰

warnings: smut!! (face riding, fingering, unprotected sex, public/dressing room sex) 18+

You woke up in Jamie's arms, his biceps hugged around your body, the bright sunlight peeking through the blinds. Grinning, you felt him kiss your temple as your eyes fluttered open as his large hands rubbed up and down your hips. His fingers teased your inner thighs, and his lips left wet kisses against your neck and jaw. He was always one to wake you as affectionately as he could while also being a tease. Rolling over to face him, you pressed your naked chest against his, while you tangled your fingers in his hair pulling him to meet your lips.

You moved your leg between his, one of his thighs aimed right under your pussy. You moaned into the kiss as your wet core throbbed against his thigh, moving your hips slowly to add more friction. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip before he pulled away, his lips forming into a smirk as he spoke, “Don’t we have shopping to do?”

You whimpered once Jamie removed his now wet thigh from between your legs and got out of bed in one smooth motion. You let your eyes fall to his body as he stood naked in front of you, moving around the room to get ready. “C’mon baby, you promised you’d help me pick out a mother’s day gift.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” laughing smugly, he came to your side of the bed, hovering his head just above yours.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jamie whispered, close enough to where you could feel his lips brushing against yours. It was very like him to get you riled up and then deny you any form of pleasure, the edging and teasing is what got him off. He just wanted to see you begging for him by the end of the day.

“Whatever.” you put your hand on his chest, pushing him away from you. He wants to be like that? Two can play at this game. You hid your smirk as you ventured to your closet, pulling out your lucky dress. It happened to be perfect for a day like today and you knew it would drive him wild.

Your boyfriend decided to wait for you in the living room, you took your time getting ready, leaving the dress for last. You cleared your throat, separating his attention from his phone to you.

Jamie gulped, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance when you entered the living room. The short yellow sundress flatters every curve on your body, sitting mid thigh and showing off the perfect amount of cleavage. Sighing, he threw his phone to the side and used his finger to gesture for you to come closer.

You stood in front of him, the ache in your core becoming more apparent as he stared up at you with dark eyes. Jamie made contact with the backs of your thighs, softly caressing the skin moving his hands up under your dress.

“Are you not wearing panties?” Jamie's big hands cupped your ass, squeezing the flesh, giving your right cheek a light slap.

“I must've forgotten.” you shrugged innocently, hoping the sweet smile on your face wasn’t giving away the wetness between your thighs.

“You know, everytime I see you in this dress I imagine what it would be like to have my head under it.”

Jamie wasn’t planning on giving into you this easily, he wanted to make you wait. But this damn sundress made the blood rush to his cock faster than any other outfit you’d worn for him.

“What?” you asked, your voice shaky as you assumed what he was insinuating. The smirk on Jamie's face was telling all as you watched him lay on his back across the couch. “Jamie, I-”

“Come sit on daddy’s face.” he patted his chest, urging you to come closer. Your knees buckled hearing the words leave his lips. Of course, you wanted to, who wouldn’t? But that didn’t change the nerves you had regarding the positioning. However, your body was moving faster than your mind and before you knew it, you were perched on Jamie's chest.

“A-are you sure?” you asked one final time, your insecurities wash over you making you unsure of your next move.

“I'm sure, baby. hold your dress up.” you did as he said, bunching the yellow dress around your waist. You looked at him, a confused expression covering your face. “I want to look at you when I make you cum.”

Your face heated up at his words, already wanting to shy away under his gaze. With one hand still attached to your thigh, he held your hand in his other, interlocking your fingers. Your heart warmed at his ability to be his sweet self while his face was mere centimeters from where you needed him most. “Now, relax.”

You yelped as his large hands pulled on your thighs, forcing your position over his face. His breath makes your clit twitch, desire already dripping from you. Jamie licked a long stripe along your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit making you shutter. That's all it took for you to relax yourself against his face, his warm mouth doing wonders against your slick center.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips down, slowly fucking his mouth. The added friction making your head spin, Jamie moaned in return, the vibration causing you to squeeze your thighs around his ears. He focused his mouth around your clit, nipping, sucking, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Jamie.” you cried out, whimpers and pants following along. You threw your head back, Jamie’s expert tongue fucking you made your skin tingle with need. The facial hair Jamie had only added to the sensation, his scruff leaving a delicious burn on your thighs. The fire in the pit of your stomach was erupting as he pinched your thigh reminding you to look at him. “Fuck. Jamie, i’m gonna-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, your eyes refocusing on his dark ones as your orgasm overtook you. Your hand squeezed his, your nails digging into the back of his hand. Your legs trembled around his head, pussy shuttering against his tongue. The repetition of moans and curse words leaving your mouth only sounded like music to Jamie's ears. It was the sweetest sound to him, matched with your parted face and glistening skin after a good orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Oh god.” you whimpered, watching Jamie lap up your juices with his tongue. After regaining your breathing, you forced yourself away from his face. Jamie licked his lips, his beard glistening with your arousal, causing you to hide your face in his hands.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He had a smug look on his face and there was a slight pep to his voice. You rolled your eyes, slightly ashamed you pushed off doing that for so long, upset you let small insecurities get in the way of something so incredible. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him before pecking your lips. “My good girl. Was that enough to hold you over?”

“I think I’m ready to shop now.” you smirked, standing up, adjusting your dress so it sat along your curves.

**********

He took your hand as you walked into the mall together, his fingers interlacing with yours. You stopped in front of one of your favorite stores, seeing a red top on a mannequin in the window. “Can I look real quick?”

He sighed, but agreed anyway, always unable to resist that smile you gave him, even though he absolutely hated going clothes shopping with you. Jamie followed you around the store, mostly staring at your ass instead of the clothes you were picking out. “Do you like this?”

“Yea, it’s not bad.” he shrugged, watching as you got a few more shirts and dresses from that section and pulled him towards the changing room. Truthfully, Jamie would be happy if you just wore the exact dress you were wearing right now everyday for the rest of your life.

“Come in with me.” you pulled at his shirt as you backed into the changing room, a smirk taking over your face. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Jamie’s ears. “I need you. Now.”

You looked around one last time, making sure there were no customers or employees watching you before you tugged him into the small dressing room. Jamie turned you around, pushing you against the door once it shut behind you. “Jamie, please.”

“Are you sure?” he sighed into your neck, pressing kisses to the area. You answered by pulling his face towards yours, bringing his lips against your own. Licking along your bottom lip, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, muffling out your moans. He was straining against his jeans, his length pressed against your pelvis.

You broke the kiss, fumbling with his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. He pulled his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring free. Pushing at his chest, he sat on the bench behind him as you straddled his legs. The sundress you wore sitting high on your thighs, your hand attached to his length, thumb swiping across his tip.

“You gotta be quiet baby.” he whispered, slipping two fingers in your soaking wet pussy, pumping them a few times. He removed them, replacing your hand around his cock with his own, sliding your juices around his length. Resting your forehead against his, you raised your hips and slowly sank down onto his length. Feeling him hit every part of your pussy, your walls clenched around him. Your hands found his shoulders to keep your balance as you rode him, one of his hands squeezed your hips, attempting to help guide you.

You bit your lip, almost drawing blood as you held back your moans. His fingers played with your clit, making small circles around the sensitive bud. Every thrust into your walls was deep and long, taking him all the way every time. Your pussy tightened around him, making him gently thrust up to meet your hips. His pants were heavy and he was getting restless letting you know he was close, as were you.

“C’mon baby.” he whispered against your lips, trapping them with his own, muffling your moans once again. You came on command, clenching around him again and again as he spilled inside you. Jamie’s hand on your throat kept you attached to his lips as you both rode out your highs.

Standing up, you fixed your dress for the second time that day as he pulled his pants up. You poked your head out of the dressing room door, feeling Jamie's cum dripping down your thigh. Laughing, you looked back at Jamie, a knowing smile taking over his face. “We have to get out of here.”

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#jamie oleksiak #jamie oleksiak imagine #jamie oleksiak imagines #jamie oleksiak smut #jamie oleksiak x reader #nhl writing

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Lee Juyeon - Breaking Dawn

Frenemies! Juyeon x fem! reader

Warnings: hate-fucking, degradation, pegging, sex toys, enemies(?) with benefits, sub!Juyeon, mild dubious consent

"Breaking Dawn, more like breaking your back" -Eric Sohn, 2021. Thanks for the inspo, Eric 🤣 I hope you guys like this one, bottom Juyeon has been on my mind for a while 💕

You and Juyeon have been rivals for as long as you can remember, but he somehow always tops you, both in academics and in the bedroom. One day, your offhand comment about you being a better top than him turns into a challenge, and Juyeon and his ego won't back down.

"Fuck you," Juyeon spits harshly, panting into the bed sheets. You smirk at him, thrusting your fingers deeper in his hole, causing him to moan lowly. "No baby, did you forget I'm the one fucking you?" Your tone is saccharine sweet, yet so sinister. Juyeon shivers, unable to hide how much he wants you, despite the venomous words and dark looks he gives you.

You pull your lube-coated fingers out of his ass and he whines, clenching around air, the cold wetness of the residual lube on the edge of his hole arousing him. You laugh and spank his ass, basking in the fact that only you get to see this side of Juyeon. He thrusts his hips back, clearly wanting more, and you debated giving it to him. Spanking him made you feel in control, but if he wanted it, then there was no point. Instead, you huffed and busied yourself with fastening the strapon to your hips, ignoring the squirming boy in front of you.

Getting annoyed, you slap his thigh instead, drawing a high pitched moan from him. "Would you stay still for once?!" You hiss and he turns to glare at you, his large hand inching towards his aching cock. "If you could just hurry up and fuck me, I wouldn't be such a brat." You scoff and roll your eyes. He had always been a brat behind closed doors, and only to you. He was always teasing and edging you, holding your orgasm out until you broke down your pride and begged him for release, which obviously fed his massive ego. Now that the tables have turned, you realise he's going to be just as difficult. The little shit would never back down from a challenge, which led the both of you into this position in the first place.

You smack his hand away from his cock and open up a condom. He looks questioningly at the foil in your hands and you can't resist the urge to piss him off, so you grab him by the chin, and his pretty eyes look up at you with nervous excitement. "Do you not want me to wear a condom? Want me to fuck you raw instead? Bet if this was a real dick you'd want me to cum inside you, fill you up and breed you like the little whore you are, don't you?" You sneer at him, and his breath hitches. You grip his jaw harder so he opens up wider, and you spit into his mouth. Juyeon's eyes roll back into his head at the taste of you, and his whole body shivers at your humiliating words.

He swallows with difficulty and tries to avoid your eyes. He never begs. He always makes you beg for his cock, that's how it's supposed to go. But he needs you now. And you know he does. "P-please," he whispers so faintly that you almost didn't catch it. You pull his jaw to make him look you in the eyes and ask him to repeat himself. "Please... fuck me," he pleads with those pretty, glittering eyes of his. You shrug and decide to oblige, since he asked so nicely for once. You shove him onto his back, spreading his long legs open and slipping the condom onto your strap-on. He's trembling as he watches you, his position making him feel so exposed and vulnerable, his leaking cock standing tall. You kneel between his legs and hitch them up onto your shoulders. You loom over him, and 6 ft tall Juyeon has never felt smaller in his life.

You ease the tip of the dildo into his hole, and he whimpers at the intrusion. You glance up at him, and he gives the subtlest nod, and you continue pressing your length into him. He grips the bedsheets in discomfort, but he soon feels the pleasurable stretch of his walls creeping up on him. You can't deny you're a tad worried, but you refuse to show your concern, so you keep an impassive mask and continue until you've fully bottomed out. You lean over him, your hand on either side of his head, and his eyes are shut tightly, getting used to the dildo inside him for the first time. He looks so pretty like this, you think. Feline eyes, sharp nose, high cheekbones, glossy red lips. You can see why everyone is head over heels for him, but your contempt for his behaviour is what drives you away from him. He's quite cute when he's not pissing you off in private or taking credit for your contributions to the club, and especially not when he's whispering filthy words in your ears in bed. But he knows exactly how to keep you coming back to him; with his hands, his mouth, and his massive dick.

"Move," he whispers hoarsely, his eyes still shut. You tap his cheeks so he looks at you, and you slowly start moving your hips, pulling out a little and pushing back into him gently. "Mmmhh, ahhh, fuck," his little noises are muffled by the arm he's thrown over his mouth, and you pull it away, wanting to hear more. You thrust into him harder and deeper this time, and he's holding the bedsheets in a death grip with the effort of concealing his moans, knuckles turning white. "Come on Juyeon, let me hear your pretty voice. Tell me how good I'm fucking you," you mock him in a singsong voice. "Shut up," he barks, still trying to remain composed. You roll your eyes and pull out almost all the way, leaving your tip inside him, and slam into him fully, and a strangled moan rips from his throat. 1 point for you, you think.

You continue to fuck him at a brutal pace, his hard cock oozing precum and bobbing from the force of your hips snapping into his. His whines turn into broken groans and eventually loud shameless moans and curses. He doesn't dare to look at you anymore, opting to face the ceiling as you pound into him, his large body sliding up the bed with your every thrust. You changed angles, unsatisfied with his reactions and hit that bundle of nerves inside him, and he cums unexpectedly, spurting ropes of creamy cum all over himself. He actually lets out a sob at the feeling of relief that his orgasm brings, but you had no plans on stopping. You pull out and Juyeon winces, only for you to flip him over, your adrenaline lending you some strength to move the much taller and heavier boy. Cumming untouched, that's 2 points for you now.

He yelps as you force him onto his hands and knees, protesting as his legs feel like jelly, but you weren't going to win so easily. You wanted him to admit that he lost. You slip your dildo back into him and fuck him again, his cum sliding off his sweaty body and dribbling pathetically from his still-hard cock onto the bedsheets. He gasps for air and pleads for you to stop, and yet he moves his hips back to meet yours every time. You spank his ass and he mewls, a tiny, pathetic sound from a large, cocky man, and you know he's going to break soon. "I can't.. I can't take much more, I think I'm gonna cum again," he whines into the pillows. "Go on, then. Cum for me. Say my name, Juyeon, tell me how I good I make you feel," you demanded as you reach down to grasp his cock.

He gasps at the oversensitivity, and the cold tone of your voice. You were barely keeping it together at this point, your pussy dripping with slick at how beautifully wrecked Juyeon looked beneath you, and his breathless chants of your name as he climaxes for the second time that night, his cock feebly spurting whatever cum was left in his balls onto your hand. He collapses onto the sheets, no longer having the strength to prop himself up. He tiredly rolls over onto his back and looks up at you, eyes glazed over. You lean over him again, your faces just a few inches apart. "Was I that good, Juyeonie?" You smirked at him. He blushes and tries to turn his face away but you hold him in place, and stick your cum-splattered fingers in his mouth, making him groan at the taste of himself. "Say it, Juyeon."

His glassy eyes shyly look up at you and he mumbles as best as he can around your fingers, "Mmfh, ffank you for f-fucking me so good." You beam at him, and pull your fingers out of his mouth. You get up off the bed, disposing of the condom and taking off your strap-on. You head into the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean him up with, trying to ignore the dull ache between your thighs as you walked. You come back and he's avoiding eye contact, wincing slightly as you wordlessly wiped him down, despite the warmth of the towel. Once you were done, you took a quick shower, deciding you'd just get off by yourself later and got dressed, Juyeon eyeing you tiredly from the bed. You're about to leave when Juyeon suddenly sits up, grimacing at the pain in his lower back. "Wait! Did you cum at all? You were so quiet but you were eating me up with your eyes the whole time," he belatedly realises.

You turn back to face him. "Does it matter?" you deadpan. "The point of this was to prove that I'm a better top than you. Some bottom you are too, couldn't even make me cum. Maybe this will take that over-inflated ego of yours down a notch, hmm?" you sneer, ignoring the crestfallen look on Juyeon's face as you walk out and slam the door shut. You let out a heavy sigh as you leave his apartment, looking out at the sky, the first rays of the morning sun breaking through the clouds. You're immersed in your thoughts as you make your way back to your place, an uncomfortable feeling in your gut to accompany the discomfort in your loins. You've never left his apartment before daybreak, the two of you always waking up on different sides of the bed and you quietly leaving with just enough time to shower and change at home before going for your classes. Even if you saw Juyeon around on campus or debate club meetings, it was all polite smiles and casual conversations, but the animosity really showed in bed. He was good in bed, you just hated how cocky he gets. Now that you flipped the switch, you think maybe you've gone too far.

3 points, you've finally won, but has victory always tasted this bittersweet?

A/N: This might have been a shit ending, but like, I dunno anymore. Sorry bout that 😅

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #juyeon #juyeon smut #the boyz juyeon #sub!juyeon

[nakachuchu]

Green Tea Ice Cream | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: He confesses his love to you and you're nervous.

READER: gender neutral

WORDS: 1027

WRITTEN: 02/26/2021

NOTES: Thank you for requesting! I had a lot of fun writing this one <3

"Y/N, I'm absolutely in love with you, and I kind of hate that because I've never been in love but I love you."

He had a bright smile on his face as he looked down at you. His round glasses slipped to the tip of his nose as he looked at you expectantly.

You blinked at him multiple times, looking up at the tall man to the point where your neck was hurting.

Your eyes managed to tear away from his porcelain face, looking at the horde of various designed balloons in his hand before looking at his other hand that held a long, velvet jewelry box.

There were heart-shaped balloons, 'I love you' balloons, and an odd 'Get well soon' balloon, and you were sure he bought that one just for fun.

You were starting to feel lightheaded from how nervous you were. Your heart was beating extremely fast and the people watching you didn't make it any better.

Some people were stopping to see what your response would be, forming a crowd around you.

Satoru couldn't have picked a worse place. Well, you knew he actually could, but the middle of a busy street in the middle of the night near dinner time was horrible enough.

The two of you had just finished dinner and dessert. He took you to a quiet restaurant that wasn't fancy. It had a warm, homey feeling to it because he knew you didn't like fancy restaurants.

The two of you had green tea ice cream after dinner, which was one of your favorite flavors. He found it odd when he first learned that you didn't like green tea, but you liked green tea ice cream.

You were well aware of his ability, but it still shocked you whenever he disappeared and came back just as quickly—especially when he came back with balloons and a jewelry box after exiting the restaurant.

"Um... Can we—Can we talk? In private, please," you requested.

The smile on his face dropped slightly and the corner of his lips twitched, but he nodded.

Another embarrassing thing was that he followed after you like a sad puppy and the large balloons trailed after him.

You tried to find a quiet corner where people wouldn't come near, and when you finally found one, you stood there and fidgeted with the hem of your jacket.

Satoru resisted the urge to sigh. This was it. It was the end of his relationship with you. He wasn't even surprised.

Actually, yes, he was surprised because he was a catch. He knew that. He knew he was attractive, strong, intelligent, but he was not easy to reign in.

He spent most of his adulthood picking up women just by looking at them. They would have sex, then he'd never have to hear from them again because he didn't care enough.

Then, he met you, and you didn't want him at all. That was what made it so interesting. Of course, he pinned after you but he didn't know he was pinning at all.

He just thought he was being a fun dick, and it took him months to realize that he liked you and your company and the stupid way you can't even talk to strangers.

More months passed before he realized he didn't just like you. He fucking loved you. But he told himself he wasn't going to tell you because a relationship wasn't worth it with his profession.

He didn't want to pass on his curse to his child—if he had one with you. He did think about raising a child together with you, but then he realized that would involve confessing to you first.

So he waited to see if you would confess first, but you never did. He was close to tugging at his hair and screaming, but Gojo Satoru wasn't a screamer nor did he want to damage his luscious hair.

So he stood there with a stoic expression on his face, gripping the strings on the balloons and planning to return the necklace to the jewelry shop.

He was a bit dejected since he took so long to pick out a necklace for you. He decided on a green amethyst because the color reminded him of the green tea ice cream you liked so much.

"I like you too," you whispered.

He blinked. "Say that again?"

You looked at him hesitantly. "I like you too."

He blinked a few times before grinning. "I didn't say I liked you, but I'll take it—unless you have something to correct?" he questioned as he leaned in.

You made a face at him. "I love you too," you murmured.

He enveloped you in a hug. "Why didn't you just say so? I knew you loved me."

You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest. "I'm shy. I didn't like all those people looking at us."

He probably should have thought about his extravagant plan more. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how dumb he was.

You were too scared to even order food at a fast food place, so there was no wonder you were terrified when he declared his love for you in front of a crowd of people.

He leaned back and began playing with your hair.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

"Just wait."

You stood there and waited until he backed away and took multiple pictures of you with the flash on.

You squinted your eyes and touched your hair, feeling some sort of braid.

"Wha—Did you braid the balloons into my hair?" you asked.

"You're so cute, Y/N! I could just eat you."

"It'll draw attention to me! Satoru, take them out," you whined.

He put his phone away and smiled as he walked back to you and slung an arm around you.

"With me by your side, all the attention will be on me," he said.

"You're so..."

"Humble? I know."

You sighed, even though you had expected that type of response. You weren't exactly sure what dating Satoru would be like, but you did like how warm his body was.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #headcanon #imagine #sfw #fluff #anime #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk Satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #Satoru gojo x reader #Satoru gojo

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor Part 2

Summary: You and Agent Walker meet again

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: angst, smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

The Instructor Part 2

A month came and went.

Then six weeks.

Seven.

Eight.

Then you stopped counting.

You felt used, and grew angry. The submissive part of your nature had been taken advantage of and you swore it wouldn’t happen again. Never again would you allow your desires to be seen by any man, let alone by Agent Walker. You collect your memories of him, gather them into a box, seal it tight and bury it in the darkest corner of your mind. You don’t even bring it out on lonely nights anymore, it hurts too much.

You focus on work and fall into your new routine: wake up, work out, work late, eat take out, sleep, repeat. The days soon melted into one, weekends forgotten as the routine is the same as weekdays. Your work was repetitive and uninspiring. You were a junior Agent after all. You knew to expect a few years of grunt work before anything meaningful. You kept your head down and did what you had to do, hoping your diligence paid off and the higher ups noticed.

Despite your hard work, you were surprised when you were called into your boss’s office for a new assignment. She tells you that an opening came up on a surveillance team in the field focussed on a group of foreign nationals. She told you strictly that there would be no interaction with the group, surveillance only. You agree to the new posting, thankful for the break in monotony and chance to develop your skills.

“Just a moment, here is the lead Agent now.” She says.

You turn as the door opens and Agent Walker strolls in, his clipped yet casual gait doesn’t falter as he notices you. A lump rises in your throat as you see him for the first time in months. You don’t know how to feel, but your body reacts. With a pounding heart and clenching stomach, you keep your features smooth as possible, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to widen your lips. An appropriate response to seeing your old instructor, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes flicker with recognition, his small smile and nod was just as appropriate. He says to your boss, “Is this the addition to the team?”

“Do you two know each other?”

You don’t deny it. You’re not stupid enough to believe your boss doesn’t know every Agent you’ve ever interacted with so you say, “Of course, Agent Walker was one of my instructors at The Farm.” Boldly you continue speaking more for Walker’s benefit than your boss, “But I haven’t seen him in… what is it Agent? Four months?”

“Four and a half,” he replies, with a tilt of the head.

“Four and a half,” you repeat. Like bile rising in your throat, anger fills you and for a moment you know he sees it. Forcing the rising tide of fury down you say, “Well, time flies when you’re having fun.” You bare your teeth at him in what you hope your boss takes as a smile and Walker takes for the ‘fuck you’ it was. Walker narrows his eyes at you then turns his attention to your boss.

You discuss more details of the case and travel arrangements then you are dismissed. Leaving the two of them together you tidy your desk of personal belongings since you didn’t know when or if you would return and go home to prepare.

Once you are through the gates of Langley and no longer under direct video surveillance you start to shake. Seeing him again rocked you to your core you hoped you hadn’t given anything away with your comments. Was it a coincidence that you were promoted and put in his team or had he asked for you? Neither Walker or your boss had given anything away. No time to think about it now, you had packing to do and less than two hours to get to the airbase where you would be sent to DC for the job.

You showered quickly, resisting the urge to release some of the growing tension in your gut. You hadn’t touched yourself in months and you wouldn’t start now.

Trying to push thoughts of Agent Walker from your mind was a futile task. Instead you focussed on keeping your anger raw so you wouldn’t fall under his spell again. You had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Did he have a knack for that? Only showing himself to you when you had moved on. You wouldn’t let him take you easily this time, this time he would not get satisfaction, not after what he had done. You shake your head, ‘this time’ you say, recognising the lies you tell yourself.

You start to get dressed when you hear a short rap on the door. Fuck, the car had arrived early. You pull a robe on as you answer the door, to let the driver know you’ll be a few more minutes.

Throwing the door wide, you’re greeted by Agent Walker, his face firm, furrowed brows looking you up and down. The collar of his dark woollen coat is pulled up, framing his face drawing your attention to his piercing stare. Frozen for a moment, you can do nothing but return his gaze. You’re a deer in headlights until he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and your body is propelled into action.

You slam the door closed, but he is quicker than you, a huge paw catching it and he forces his way into your apartment. You back away, but he kicks the door closed behind him and advances, with predatorily confident and rapid steps.

He catches your throat and brings you to him. He skin is rough with unshaven hair that is yet to grow soft. His lips are so smooth and warm, that you can’t help but melt into him. You hate him.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you almost sweetly and you can’t help the hand that flies on its own and makes a loud crack as it hits Walkers cheek.

You’re both stunned. Walker tongues his cheek and works his jaw a moment. “I hope you enjoyed that, pet. The first one is free, but the next one will come at a price.” He doesn’t seem angry, in fact his tone suggests amusement, which only fuels your rage.

“Get out,” you say. You try and keep your voice steady, but you know it warbled with fear as you looked into his eyes.

“No,” Walker says. He casually removes his coat folding it neatly and laying it over the back of your dining chair. He removes his scarf, placing it on top of his coat before he unbuttons his dark brown suit jacket and loosens his tie. You watch him, mind fixated on each of his careful movements. As if he were performing burlesque show, each minute act became a piece of seduction.

He sits in another chair and pats his lap, “Come, pet.” He calls to you in his gentle authoritative voice.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step towards him. But then you notice his smirk, and you shrink away. You can’t speak but you shake your head as you retreat towards your bedroom.

Walker starts to look irritated and his voice gains a hard edge that both terrifies you and thrills you. “Come. Here,” he repeats. “I won’t say it again, pet.”

“Fuck you, Walker,” you spit out, your anger spilling from you, becoming a torrent as you wrestle within yourself.

He peers at you with his contemplating blue eyes. Then he sighs and moves before you can even register his actions. You turn, to run, but he is quicker and stronger. But more than that, his desire to have you is stronger than your desire to run.

His vice like arms trap you as he forces you against the wall, his body pressing into your back. “Why do you fight me, pet?” His voice rumbles into your ear. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Your tears came then, the rejection you felt was no longer able to be contained. That box of memories, buried for months smashes apart and so does your control. “You left me,” you sob. “You used me then left me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ashamed at how quickly you relented and told him anything. You laugh at yourself, why did you believe even for a second you could hide anything from him? The only man who saw into your very soul.

“I know, pet,” Walker drones, his lips caressing your ear as he does. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” you reply.

His hand is in your hair, smoothing the strands away from your face. His tender touch was unexpected but welcome. You feel soft kisses on your eye lids and you slowly stop crying. His tongue comes out, licking at your wet cheeks and you hear his breathing shudder as he laps up your pain.

You open your eyes, he growls as your shining eyes meet his. He plants a foot between your legs forcing them apart while he undoes his belt and pants and you hear them crumple to the floor. His hand tilts your hips back for him while the other pulls aside your underwear as he roughly explores your centre, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You hear a muttered, “Fuck,” as his finger enters you, circling your walls, stretching you before a second enters. “Fuck, pet. Have you touched yourself at all since I fucked you?”

Unsure of what he would think, you reply hesitantly, “No. You said I was yours.”

Walkers features soften as he says, “I knew you were a good girl.” Your whole body bursts into flames and your core clenches around his thick, thrashing fingers as you hear his whispered praise.

With precise and sudden movements, his fingers are withdrawn and his broad, leviathan cock bludgeons into you. Biting down on your lips to supress the cry growing in your throat you savour the feeling of being torn apart. Wasting no time, Walker moves with vicious, aggressive speed, wounding you with his thrusts, ripping apart your defences.

Pulling down your robe, he exposes your chest. His wanton hands knead your breasts as he uses them for leverage, his pounding never stops. You hear his breaths primal and raw as he assaults your neck with his mouth and teeth. He moves his depraved mouth to your shoulders sinking his teeth in deep. The pain feels like a caress when you are this close to the edge.

Walker turns you around, lifts your leg to his hip as he enters you again. His eyes are clinical as he studies your reaction. You feel boneless under his scrutiny and close your eyes again looking away. Walker grips your throat in his hand and uses his long fingers to push your cheek back in his direction.

“Open your eyes, pet,” he orders. “I know you’re close. I want to see your eyes when you call my name.”

The pressure builds deep within your gut as you keep your eyes glued to his. His breath, warm and minty with a hint of gin maybe, tickles at your cheek. You want to kiss him, taste him, feel his tongue invade you and devour you. You silently beg him to and as if hearing your thoughts, he slowly moves his mouth to yours. His eyes stay open as he flicks his tongue over your lips before taking your lower lip between his teeth.

Like a taut elastic, your core grows tighter and your knee gives out as the rush of warmth whips through your body. He lets go of your lip in time for you to shout “August!”

Your body pulses and your tightening muscles strain with contractions until you feel all the tension fall away. Like a rag doll you slump against him. But he isn’t finished with you.

Walker lifts your lulling head with a firm thumb under your chin, He continues his frenzied thrusts with a new vigour having succeeded in his task. He fucks your listless body, you’re too spent to move, and he doesn’t care. With a stuttering final thrust he pushes deep into you, clenching his teeth, whiskered lip raised in a snarl as he growls with his final throes.

He raised his hand to your face, his thumb laying a single burning caress down your tear stained cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll pack for you,” he says before pulling away and doing up his pants.

You shower again, consciously cleaning August’s seed spilling slowly from your ruined core. Each time you think you’re clean, you feel more leaking from you and you wash again. The bathroom door opens and August enters making a show of looking at his watch.

You sigh, and turn the shower off. His eyes inspect your body as he hands you a towel. He makes no effort to leave as he watches you towel off and you awkwardly squeeze past him as you make your way to your bedroom. He has laid an outfit on your bed, complete with underwear and shoes. Your gun is on your bed in its holster with spare clips by its side. You don’t say anything to him and dress in the clothes he chose and slipped your holster onto your belt, pocketing the spare clips.

Walker is waiting at the door with your overnight bag in his hand. You give the apartment a quick look over, making sure everything is turned off and sling your handbag over your shoulder. August opens the door for you, and as you slip past him his arm wraps around your waist and he kisses you.

The deep demanding kiss you wanted earlier was nothing compared to this, his lips were bruising and hard, but his tongue explored your mouth with a soft insistence. Your hands were free and for the first time, you touched him, laying a hesitant hand on his chest, and another on his neck. His skin felt hot under yours and testing his limits you slid your fingers into his hair and were rewarded with a barely audible groan.

Then he pulled his head away with a jerk and without looking at you said, “Go to the car. You’re making us late.”

Disappointed but not surprised you went to the car wondering where this assignment would take the two of you.

Part 3

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #henry cavill #mission impossible fallout #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 12: Celebrate (M)

↬ pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

↬ genre: smut, angst (tiny)

↬ wc: 3k

↬ warnings: cursing, they both have FEELINGS, office!quickie, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, creampie

↬ date: May 16, 2021

A smile lit up your face as the elevator doors shut. You were only going up one floor, but you didn’t want to risk twisting your ankle on the stairs. Jimin would be in his office, eager to hear about your meeting, and you didn’t see why you shouldn’t update him in person.

The doors to the elevator open when they arrive at his floor. You step out, opening your purse to fish your ID to show to the receptionist. It was rare for you to make an appearance at Jimin’s office, but you were always allowed to see him, with the exception of his father being present.

“Miss Y/n!” The receptionist rises from her seat, greeting you with a smile and a handshake. 

“Hello, is Jimin in his office?” you ask, looking over your shoulder in hopes of seeing him.

“Yes, go right ahead. I’ll announce your arrival.”

“No need. I want to surprise him,” you state before waving to head to his office. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning the doorknob and walking in.

Jimin is on the phone, sitting at his desk with his feet kicked up. He raises a brow at the sound of his door opening, but grins when he sees it’s you. He hastily finishes his phone call, turning his phone off before using the intercom to have all his calls held.

“Princess,” Jimin greets you, rising from his chair to pull you into a hug. He kisses your cheek, his hands holding yours in his. “How’d it go?”

A grin lights up your face, immediately spilling all the details of your meeting with eagerness. Jimin finds himself smiling, squeezing your hands in his as he hangs on every word. He doesn’t want to admit he’s overjoyed; this was just a friend helping a friend. Right?

However, he doesn’t let the whirling of his thoughts take away from you or your achievement. He knew you’d do well, despite being drunk as a skunk the previous night. When you’d lay in his bed, your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, you spilled all your worries. What if you failed? What if you disappointed him? What if it fell through?

Jimin held you, laced his fingers with yours as you aired out everything. He kissed your fingertips, his soft lips helping you relax. You’d felt safe in his arms, his kisses chasing every worry away. He reassured you with whispered words, soft touches and kisses until you felt confident once again.

Jimin knows he’s in too deep. He can try to deny it as much as he wants, but his heart knows the truth. And it’s fucking terrifying. He would move earth, hell, and heaven to see that gorgeous smile illuminate your face. Would do anything you asked of him for just a grin. But you… you couldn’t see him like that. Couldn’t see him as more than just a bank account. He knew that much… had experienced that much all his life. It was easier to pay someone upfront, then have them feign interest in him just to get at his wallet. He was so sick of fake love. He didn’t need it, didn’t want it… but what were these feelings you arouse in him?

“What do you think?” you repeat, head quirking when Jimin doesn’t answer.

“Hmm, baby?” Jimin blinks, stepping back to shake his head clear of all his thoughts. A proud smile on his lips.

“Dinner with everyone tonight? Then on Friday we can all go out for drinks,” You tell him, brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

Jimin cards his hand through his hair. “Yeah, baby. We’ll celebrate tonight and Friday. I’m all yours.”

“Yay! Thank you, daddy!” You jumped up and down. Jimin couldn’t help but stare as your chest bounced; he licked his lips. 

“Come here, princess”

You approach him, still smiling brightly. He loves the way your eyes sparkle with happiness; he hopes he’s able to make you that happy for the rest of his life.

A frown mars his face for a moment, but it’s gone before you can comment on it. His lips brushing yours, his hand coming to cup your cheek. Jimin kisses you softly, holds you as if you were a delicate flower. There’s no rush in his kisses, savoring the sweet taste of your lips as his other hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Jimin.” The sigh of his name has him pulling you closer. Your hands wrap around his waist, wanting to be closer to him despite already being up against his body. 

“Angel,” he murmurs as his lips trail kisses down your jaw to the column of your throat. You arch into him, head lolling back slightly to allow him more room. He thanks you with a playful nip, chuckling when he hears the stutter in your breath, your fingers gripping his shirt tightly.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, eyes fluttering shut as he pulls the strap of your dress off of your shoulder. His lips plant featherlight kisses on your skin, before moving to your other shoulder and doing the same.

“So beautiful,” he mutters to himself. “And all mine. Only mine.”

“Yours,” you echo, moaning when his hands cup your breasts over your dress. His touch is fiery, it ignites your body, yearning for more.

A growl escapes Jimin, his hold on you tightening as the kiss deepens. Your fingers run through his locks, tugging at the ends, and  earning a delectable moan from the CEO.

“Fuck,” Jimin pants, his lust-filled eyes meeting your own. His chest rises and falls, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, a hand running through his mussed hair.

“Jimin,” you bite your lip, an action that draws his gaze to them. His cock throbs in the confines of his pants. He’s got to have you. Now.

Jimin steps around you, chuckling deviously as he pushes every item off his desk. Papers scattered on the floor, followed by his phone clattering onto the floor, and he smirks at you. Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips before Jimin is lifting you and setting you on his desk.

Without wasting a moment, Jimin’s plush lips are on yours once again, taking your breath away as his hands grip your hips. Your legs wrap around him, a chuckle escaping him.

“Eager?” he asks teasingly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, nodding, your hands running up his arms as his palms rest on your thighs, caressing them slowly. 

The feel of his touch sends sparks down your spine, aching to have him closer. His lips press against yours as your hands tug at his suit jacket. He breaks the kiss to discard it on the floor, tugging off his tie before he’s kissing you once again.

You arch into his touch, the softness of his lips on the expanse of your neck. He’s slowly guiding you onto your back, spreading your thighs for him. He doesn’t waste time ripping your panties down your legs to put in the pocket of his pants.

His lips trail kisses up your leg, jutting your dress upward to bunch at your hips.

“So pretty,” he muses as he sucks a mark onto your thigh before moving higher. He groans at the scent of your wet pussy, his fingers spreading the lips, grunting when he sees how wet you are for him. For a moment he wants to say those three words, but he swallows them instead to focus on your dripping cunt.

“Jimin,” you gasp when a kiss is pressed on your skin. 

“Yes, princess?” he asks, looking at you from between your thighs, a salacious smirk on his lips.

You grin, your hand delicately weaving in his hair.  

“More.”

“More?” he chuckles. Two of his fingers slide into you easily, a soft moan escaping your lips. You know you need to be quiet, not wanting to alert his receptionist or his assistant of what their boss is doing to you, but all those thoughts flee your mind when his tongue licks a broad stripe over your folds.

Jimin smirks, watching as you twitch at the feel of his tongue as he goes in for seconds, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a languid pace. Your hands grip the edge of the desk, legs draped over his shoulders as you resist the urge to thread your fingers through his perfectly done hair. You know he wouldn’t care if you messed it up, but you were trying to be secretive. Nobody could know about this.

“Jimin,” you arch, melting into nothingness at his ministrations. You hate being on a time restraint. Wishing more than anything you were back at his place where he could take his time with you. However, it’ll have to do. You’d do anything to come now that his devilish tongue was swirling around your clit, lips sucking it gently in the way that has your thighs trembling. Jimin meets your gaze, your eyes fluttering shut. His beauty is too much for you to handle when he’s slotted between your thighs, eating your cunt like it’s the best meal he’s ever had.

“Look at me,” he growls, heat pooling deep in your abdomen. Waves of pleasure rolling over you as you lock eyes with him. His fingers curl inside you, teasing you as his tongue works wonders on your clit. “So pretty.”

You whine, feeling vulnerable as he dives in, too focused on your arousal to notice. You moan, wanting more of his lips and tongue. You know you’re getting close, your breathing growing ragged and thighs quivering as you accidentally squeeze his head in between when it hits you. Jimin chuckles, his breath ghosting your skin as he laves at your cunt. The sweet sounds that escape you go directly to his throbbing cock. He’s so fucking hard, desperate to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around him.

“Jimin,” you sigh, panting as he places your legs back down. He smirks, licking his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. “Fuck.”

Jimin doesn’t waste time, his hands grip your hips as he helps you to your feet. His lips capture yours, his hand on the nape of your neck to hold you close as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slips past the seam of your lips, meeting yours as your hands undo the buttons of his shirt. You tug it off him, allowing it to fall on the floor. Your hands roam his bare chest freely, wishing you could leave your lipstick prints all over his skin. Maybe you’d get the chance tonight?

“We need to hurry,” he reminds you as he trails kisses to your neck, nipping at the skin as you give in, running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. Jimin groans into your neck, planting a kiss on your collarbone as your hand grips his erection over his pants. A hiss leaves his lips. You undo the button of his pants, pulling the zipper down in one swift move. 

Jimin stops you from taking his cock out, kissing you instead. His hands cup your face as your hands come to rest on his wrists. Jimin loves the softness of your lips, the feel of them against his as they move perfectly in sync. He could kiss you forever if given the chance.

“Jimin,” you moan against his lips, fingers lacing with his. He brings your twined hands to his lips, kissing each of yours before letting them go. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. How were you so beautiful? How did you manage to make a home in his heart?

“Turn around,” Jimin whispers, his touch no longer soft as he spins you around. Your palms land on his desk as he caresses your body, hoping all thoughts of love would just disappear if he focused on your body instead. Sex was easy. Sex he could handle without the burden of emotions you arose in him, and as his hand smacks your ass and you moan his name in pleasure, it’s enough for those thoughts to dissipate.

Jimin pulls his pants and boxers down just enough to release his cock. He stroked himself, the head of his cock pressing against your folds, collecting your arousal on the head before he sinks in. 

“Fuck, princess.”

“Jimin!” You moan, holding yourself up on your elbows as his hand pushes on your back to hold you in place. He caressed your skin for a few moments before he’s gripping your hips. 

Jimin moans your name in a husky tone that has your head reeling. His hold on you is tight; you can’t help but wish he was holding you tighter as he fucks himself into you. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me, princess.” Jimin grunts, pushing his hair out of his eyes before his hand is moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. 

“Fuck me harder,” you plead, your hips moving to meet Jimin’s thrusts. Jimin growls, fucking you harder, faster as you bite on your bottom lip to muffle your moans. 

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock. Take it,” Jimin grunts, throwing his head back as he fucks you harder like you’ve asked. Each of his thrusts has your eyes rolling back, whimpers and cries escaping your lips. You’re sure you’re near tears, your body overwhelmed with the pleasure Jimin’s providing.

You’re unsteady on your heels and Jimin wraps his arm around your hips to hold you up while plowing into you. He curses, eyes fluttering shut as you clench around him, moaning his name. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Your wet cunt takes my cock so well. You love when I fuck you full. Don’t you, baby?” Jimin moans, smacking your ass when you don’t answer him immediately. 

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out, thighs quivering as you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. Jimin grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as he fucks you. You can feel the pleasure building, searing you from the inside out as you warn Jimin of your impending orgasm. 

“Just a little more,” he huffs, hips slapping against your ass over and over again. He’s so close, he can feel it. You cry out his name, forgetting you’re fucking in his office in the middle of the work day. You don’t care. You don’t fucking care who hears your man fucking you over his desk. He’s yours and you’ll gladly make everyone aware of it as you come wrapped around his fat cock, his name rolling off your tongue in a heavenly moan that has Jimin’s hips stuttering. A few more thrusts and your pulsating cunt is all it takes for him to find his release. He thrusts into you sloppily, groaning and cursing as he fucks his cum into you, not wasting a drop. 

Jimin falls over you, panting as his arms wrap around you. You don’t care that he’s sweaty, sticking to your back as he rights the both of you before he pulls out. 

“Damn,” Jimin pants with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You should come see me at work more often.”

“If I did, you’d never get anything done.” you giggle as you try to catch your breath. You fan yourself with your hand, your chest rising and falling. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jimin jokes, carding a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how he imagined spending his lunch break, but he’d take this any day. He pulls you to him, brushing his lips against yours, his hand caressing your side. 

“I hate that you have to go,” Jimin murmurs against your lips, stealing a kiss as he adjusts his pants after zipping and buttoning them. 

“Me too,” you say in between kisses, your fingers moving quickly to button up Jimin’s shirt. You press a kiss to his chest before buttoning the last button. Jimin hands you his tie for you to tie for him. He always liked when you did it, it felt more domestic. Although he’d never admit to it out loud. 

Jimin wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re practically naked except for your heels and your dress bunched at your hips. You allow him to hold you, to kiss you because you don’t want to leave. You’d rather spend the day with him, even if you just sat in a chair all day. But that wasn’t ideal, and you weren’t about to suggest you stay. Your mind was already whirling with thoughts about him, and how he’s always so gentle with you outside of bed… almost like he cares about you. But that’s not Jimin, and it would do you a whole world of good if you got that through your thick skull and accepted it. 

With one last deep, passionate kiss, Jimin helps you redress. He takes your panties out of his pocket and helps you step into them. You grimace at the feeling but can’t protest when he’s stuffed you full of his cum. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing with a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Here,” Jimin reaches into his pants to take his wallet out, handing you a thick stack of bills. “Get yourself a new outfit for tonight.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you take the money from him, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest. 

“I’ll see you tonight, princess.” Jimin presses a chaste kiss to your lips before walking you to the door of his office.

You give him one last wave before heading to the elevator, avoiding the curious gaze of the receptionist. You’re sure she can put two and two together. 

Once you’re safely inside the elevator, you lean against the back wall. The uncomfortable feeling of Jimin’s money in your purse makes you feel uneasy. You’re well aware you’ve started caring more for him but all you are to him is an investment and you don’t like the feeling. You take your phone out of your bag, pushing all those confusing thoughts to the back of your mind as you read the messages you’ve missed from your friends. You can find comfort in them instead. 

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