#with his suits and his voice and his smile and his slutty slutty waist- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

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monster trio x fem reader nsfw formal wear 👀 either way because i’m a sucker for a man in a suit and i know they would be on their knees for a dress

ayeee now that's what we are talking about!! (scurries like a rat to pinterest to find hot men in suit as inspo~)

"all dressed up, just for me" ft. the monster trio!

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

set-up: hot men in suits; just no other thoughts

warnings: nsfw drabbles; nsfw stuff includes: penetration, dirty talk, them being just a little bit possessive if you squint; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

the way luffy would slay this is like unthinkable actually

- his hands are snaking around your waist, fingers digging harshly against the silk you were clad in - ignoring the man in front of you that you were chatting up, he leans in to whisper against the shell of your ear, "come with me, please" - you excuse the man, flashing him a polite smile and then luffy's dragging you by your wrist outside of the ball-room and into the corridor - "luffy-" you moan, words dissolving on the tip of your tongue as he's kissing and bruising the skin on your neck "somebody's gonna see" you whisper he flashes you a grin, "let them" "luffy" you push him away, "somebody's gonna see." - he groaned but nonetheless, he pulled away. then, pulling you by your wrist and walked into the nearest washroom - your back is against the cold wooden door and his fingers are hiking up your gown, letting it pool on your hip "so pretty" thats all he mumbles before he's kissing you again - his fingers pull your panties aside, the pad of his thumb rubbing the bundle of nerves - you moan into his touch, your hands pulling him closer and kissing him harder "luffy" you whimper at his calloused touches "look at you, all dressed up, just for me." he groans, fingers moving faster, "let me fuck you just like this" - fucked you with the dress on - you can never put that dress on again because luffy goes feral every single time. - rip u and ur dress

zoro:

you heard the man, he said he'd wear something black

- zoro was trying to have some self-restraint. - truly, he was trying. - if trying meant ogling you from across the room as he downed his third glass of whiskey and clenching his jaw whenever another guy's fingers lingered a little too long over your skin, then sure, he was trying - but enough was enough, that dude was getting a little too close and your smile was turning from a genuine one to an uncomfortable one - so, zoro's arm wraps around your waist, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your neck he whispers, "do you want me to kill him?" and then he's pulling you away, sending the man in front of you a death-glare - you're pressed against the cold balcony wall, the night air painting goosebumps on your skin as zoro presses against you "nobody ever comes here" he reassures as he is bruising your skin "are you su-" he pulls you into a kiss, devouring you whole and shutting you up as his lips trace over yours - and now you are bent over the balcony, your dress bunched up at your hips; your hands are gripping the cool metal as his fingers lace up in your hair and pull you backwards. he slips in and out from behind, whispering dirty nothings in your ear "fu-ck yn" his voice is heavy, mixed with groans and low moans, "look at you, all dressed up just for me" "zoro ngh- shit fuc-" "shh" his finger drags your bottom lip as he drills into you harder, "somebody might hear us" - well, now you know his kryptonite - wear a dress and pray to god he doesn't tear it when he fucks you

sanji:

hold up, sanji with this slutty waistline i know you all hear me

- he's been pressed up against you all night, hissing insults as soon as other man got too close to you or smiled a bit too much with you or any other thing ever "sanji, you're being ridiculous come on" you whisper as you pull him aside, silently begging him to leave your side for like two minutes and act normal "i cannot help it, darling. look at you" he flashes you a handsome smile "sanji." "awh don't be mad," he leans in, tucking your hair behind your ear and whispering, "i can make it up to you" - and that's how you were stuffed inside a utility closet with sanji pressed up against you - your dress hung barely onto your skin as you chest was exposed and sanji fucked into your cunt, his hands holding you into place against the wall "san- sanji, fuck" "my love, all dressed up, just for me" he whispers as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, "takin' me so well, darlin-g" - yeah, he ended up accidentally ripping your dress - its fine tho, he bought you another and fucked you in it too

a/n: this was relatively short but oh my lord my brain isnt working im sorry 🙏🏼

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #monster trio smut #monster trio #sanji smut #zoro smut #luffy smut #roronoa zoro smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla #op

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katsukikitten · 7 months

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Landing on your back with a sickening crunch makes the rage in you burn brighter. Bringing your knees to your chest to slam your feet straight into his sternum.

With any luck you'll break it.

But you doubt it, he wasn't tied in the number one spot for no reason and he was no stranger to hand to hand despite his quirk.

Still he staggers backward enough for you to get to your feet, sharp black tipped claws poised to slash although you must be careful. His reach is larger than yours and you've had to break your wrist to get out of his grip before. Your previous encounter shines brightly in jagged ruby scabs on his forearms decorating his other more detrimental scars.

"Hah? What's wrong?" His lips turning up into a smirk as he lunges and you jump back again, "Scared I'll get ya?"

"Nah, just don't wanna fork over another fortune to get my shit fixed again." Throwing a kick that he ducks to dodge, grabbing onto your ankle to pin under his armpit, his other hand coming to clamp down just below your knees. Palm burning your skin through your dark skin tight suit, you can tell he's tempted to apply more pressure to snap your leg at an odd angle.

The papers were right, he'd be a much better villain.

"They make ya go to therapy? Ya know for your anger management? Bet ya get in trouble for hero brutality all the time." He hears this type of shit all the time in the media, the most it gets out of him now is an eye roll but when you say it it's like your claws are scraping at his bones. He bares his teeth and the time it takes him to think of a retort that you're able to twist your body with precision.

Letting your steel toed boot slam right into his handsome jaw. He doesn't stagger, it's annoying how much he can take but his grip loosens when you add.

"They have to, right? Otherwise the people wouldn't have let you tie with Deku huh?"

Freeing yourself expertly just out of his reach again as you dodge a swipe of his glowing hot palm.

"Ya fuckin talk too much."

"Ya didn't say that the last time you pinned me under you." You giggle and his throat burns red, swallows thickly as he lunges, wrapping you in his large arms. Pressing your chest against his b

"That was from a quirk. I ain't into you like that." He growls, nose to nose and all it does is make you smile.

"Oh?" A purr of your voice, leaning to whisper into his ear, haughty as you recall what he said to you that night, "So when you said 'fuuuuck sweetheart yer made for me' ya didn't mean it?"

It puts him into the moment instantly, him gripping onto your hips as he bounces you on his cock in doggy in the dingy alley behind a bar, you looking back at him with pretty tears in your eyes moaning out his name. His real name.

"Right, Katsuki." You can feel his heart rate increasing, feel his grip adjust in a different manner, "That's why you keep looking for me? Keep calling me?"

Leaning back as he lets up enough your arms are free, nails going to his undercut as you recalled he liked, scratching gently as you watch this hero melt in your touch.

"I thought you hated liars, baby."

"Stop." He bites, arms moving down to fall on your natural waist, one palm coming back up to squeeze your rib cage in warning.

"Stop what?"

"Stop using your quirk, yer slutty ass sex pollen shit." His eyes flicker to your lips, to the dark color he knows will smear against his mouth or the base of his cock like he's seen it before.

"That's the thing, Katsuki." You lean up lips inches from his and you'd be stupid to ignore the magnetism between the two of you, "I'm not using a quirk at all. You want me."

Suddenly your claws are sharp at his back, too sharp as you dig them deep using it as leverage to get fully out of his grip. Scaling the wall as another hero's foot steps can be heard barreling down the maze of alleyways you lead Dynamight down in a poor attempt to lose him.

"Find me again." Your giggle echoes around the space only to echo around his head until he catches a glimpse of a dark body suit slinking around in the shadows again.

#katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛#kitten writes Bakugou

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whiteferrar1 · 3 months

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“Two is better than one”

Pt2 to my previous Sugu fic :3

|Summary: Gojo walks in on you and his best friend; Suguru, fucking. He can’t help but feel. little jealous. So of course, you let him join in..

|Tags: 3some, Degradation, praise, reader is a crybaby, pussy slapping, slapping, double penetration, Gojo and Suguru are mean, aftercare, no protection(Wrap if b4 ya tap it), use of weed, Gojo forces reader to smoke a blunt while yall fuck, pet names.

All you could remember was this.

Movie marathon that you skipped out on, Suguru catches you fucking yourself, he ducks you, Gojo was there.

Everything felt like it was out of a book. Or a porno.

Gojo’s large hand wrapped around his leaking cock, a blunt dangling from his pink lips. His round sunglasses low on the bridge of his nose.

Suguru stays between as your thighs but looking back at his best friend. He smirks before nodding.

“You mind if Satoru joins?” Suguru asks you with a questioning brow. You think for a brief moment but nod in agreement.

“Yea that’s okay” You mumble. Satoru smiles happily. He takes the blunt from his lips with two fingers and exhales the smoke. He walks over to the two of you and kneels onto the bed.

“Fuck… Look at that pretty pussy” Satoru mumbles as he slaps your clit a bit.

You moan loudly at the feeling, squirming and closing your thighs shut.

“Oh please-Don’t act like you don’t like it baby” Satoru teases. Suguru chuckles at his friend, sitting up and wiping the sweat that dripped from his brow.

“She’s already been stretched pretty good, and she’s still wet as shit” Suguru starts as he takes the blunt from Satoru’s hands. He inhales a bit before grinning “I think we could both fit” He says, smoke puffing out of his lips.

“wait! B-both?” You worriedly ask. You sit up properly now. Looking between the two with widen eyes.

“Yeah.. Ya’ think we were gonna take turns?” Satoru laughs “Not how’s it’s gonna work baby” He confirms.

“Here, take a couple drags and you’ll be relaxed” Suguru tells you, referring to the blunt in between his fingers. He places the blunt inbetween your wet and puffy lips. You whine as the two men decide how they’re gonna adjust their bodies to fuck you.

You zone out when you take lazy hits from the warm blunt. Coughing the first couple before easing into it. Your head flops against the pillows, smoke pouring out of your mouth as the room begins to smell of weed, sweat, and sex.

You barely comprehend anything until you feel two cocks slip into you. The stretch is painful as you whine loudly. Your hand grips the sheets, tears slipping onto the brink of your eyes.

“Fuck- Sugu ‘toru! to much!” You state, your voice high pitched.

“Oh shut up. You can handle it.” Suguru mumbles as he bottoms out.

Satoru adjusts himself “This slutty cunt is pulling me in, she’s telling us the truth” Satoru responds as he follows suit in bottoming out into your warm wet walls.

The men take a notice of your stressed state. Satoru bends down and kisses your lips softly. He puts the blunt back between your lips “Calm down crybaby, just smoke and feel good” The blue eye man tells you before he pats you cheek.

“Gotta move” Suguru grumbles. His hand grabs the fat of your thigh and pulls it up above his arm. He pulls out a bit before ramming back in.

Loud moans freed from your mouth. The two men found a harmony in bullying their cocks tightly inside of your pussy.

“Fuckkkkk! Such a slutty pussy to such a good girl” Satoru groans out. His head tips back. His cock rubs against Sugurus inside of you. He slams in and out.

The blunt slips from your lips. Smoke exhales, sobs leaving your open mouth with moans. Suguru smiles at your face, completely fucked out.

“God even with two cocks in you, you’re still tight” Suguru praises. His balls slap across your across, his nails digging into your waist.

Satoru nods and groans in agreement. “Fuck such a good slut, eh? Look at her face. She can’t even speak!” He jokes.

The men rams their cocks into your, not letting out the pace. Moans and loud whines leave your throat, your tits bouncing up and down.

“Dumb little baby loves having her best friends fuck her” Suguru groans.

Satoru nods before he lands a slap across your pussy. He laughs when you loudly moan at that. He slaps if a couple times again before he rubs the pad of his thumb across your pussy clit.

“Thinks she’s about to cum” Suguru tells his friend “You gonna cum slut?” He asks you.

You nod your head. Eyes rolled back as the weed and two cocks make you feel like you’re floating on the clouds.

“Yeah she is! Gripping us so god damn tightly” Satoru mumbles.

Babbles of incoherent words warning them of you cumming. Their cocks ram in even faster, Satoru’s thumb rubbing circles into your clit quicker to let you reach your high.

“Come on baby, let this slutty cunt cum” Suguru almost growls.

With more sobs you cum hard. The band in your stomach snapping quickly. Your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck! Wait s-stop! To much!” You plea. Satoru shakes his head before slapping you lightly across your face.

“Nah, we gonna cum too. Don’t be selfish, slut”

You body moves across the bed to their harsh fucking. “fuck fuck fuckkkkk” Suguru moans first, his hips bucking in as his cum leaks into you.

Satoru follows quickly after, muttering praises to you and your cunt as he cums. The three of you take a few minutes before they pulls out. You hiss at the feeling as you dumbly lay on the bed.

Suguru taps your face “Come on baby” He whispers “don’t float away on us”.

The long haired ravenette presses kisses across your cheeks. You feel something wet at your pussy, you weakly open your eyes and see Satoru cleaning your with a soft rag. He rubs your thighs.

“So good sweetheart” He praises you.

You nod and whisper a thank you. The men clean themselves up before laying down next to you. You’d cuddled up to Satoru while Suguru wraps his arms around you, a hand rubbing your skin in comfort.

“You feeling okay?” is asked by one. You can only nod, barely able to even hear when you yawn.

“Dude, we fucked her dumb, literally” Laughs the other.

The two praise you while they cuddle you softly, letting you fall asleep in their arms.

#fem reader #jjk smut #smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru smut #suguru smut

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cassiachales · 27 days

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Journal Entry Three [And Noticing That Grayson Hawthorne Has Extremely Nice Arms]

note: y'all are so sweet with your comments like sjhfhdgjhs. anyway since some of you guys wanted to be in the taglist, i made one!! taglist: @f4iry-bell, @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader

Wednesday– Sunday was the last day I saw Grayson Hawthorne but that does not mean Sunday was the last day he was in my head. And oh my gods that waist. So slutty. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Xander crossed his legs from where he was leaning against the wall. “I thought Whiskey Woes would’ve been enough.”

You scoff. “Do you even know your brother? He’d rather drink his and my bottle of whiskey before answering any question.”

You remember how his lips looked on the full glass of whiskey, and how he drank the whole glass without looking away from you.

“If you get turned on by looking at a guy drink whiskey, I don’t even know who to set you up with.” Xander says.

“I don’t get turned on–”

“Don’t even start.”

“Fine.” You huff. “But why is he so damn hot?”

“We have to make him fall for you.” Xander says, ignoring you. “Fall into his arms.�� Xander wags his eyebrows suggestively, and you look away.

“One, I can’t trip on purpose, and two, that will make me look desperate.”

“Everyone’s throwing themselves at him; all you have to do is do it classily.”

You grin. “Like what? Like, oh no, the heat. It wounds my heart, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“That is such terrible acting.” A voice behind you says, and you groan.

Grayson Hawthorne is behind you, and you don’t know just how much he overheard.

And he’s leaning against the wall, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top button unfixed.

And he looks hot.

“It was meant to be terrible.” You grumble, rolling your eyes.

“No doubt.”

You begin to wonder why someone who talks so dryly has some so close to capturing your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He talks as though he’s constantly in a business meeting, and he dresses as though life is business and he’s the chairman. Except for some times where he actually looks extremely ravished. Like today. Gods I just want to run my hands through his hair and mess it all up. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need to ask, why do you stare so much? Is it just at me, or do you stare at everyone you meet?”

Only the attractive ones.

He raises his eyebrow. “You find me attractive?”

And there comes your habit of saying things out loud. And the fact that there’s no Xander snickering behind you, he probably left.

Traitor.

“You know what, I just realised that I have three essays due. So like, bye.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He probably thinks I’m obsessed with him or something. Maybe I am but he’s never gonna read this journal so. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

He tilted his head to the side and watched you turn and go the other way before he called your name.

Your name.

Not a “Ms.” and your last name.

Your real name.

“Your car is parked in the opposite direction, in case you forgot.”

You turn around, before shooting a thumbs up. “Totally knew that.”

His lips quirk up, and you can’t help but stare. He looks so infuriatingly gorgeous in his neatly pressed suits and perfectly styled hair and you often find your mind straying to how he would look messed up.

His hair all ruffled and his shirt with slight creases and your lips on his–

Not the last one. That was just an extra thought.

“Would you like me to drop you off? To your car?” Grayson asks, and you feel like he could do anything and you would find him every bit the gentleman.

He could kiss you and make you look ravished and wrap your legs around his waist and even then, he would be perfectly gentlemanly.

You nod. “That would be nice.”

He pushes off the wall, using his hand to show you the way. “Then? I do not have all day, love.”

Your brain is lagging.

He called you love.

And Grayson Hawthorne looks like he knows exactly what that did to you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He called me love. LOVE. And by god, if that self-satisfied smile on his face means anything, he looks so smug seeing what effect that had on me. Bloody bastard. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His confidence doesn’t slip at all, and you walk towards him.

His eyes are maddening.

It’s like a bottle of wine. Heady and intoxicating but you just want more and more even if it could poison you.

The two of you walk towards where your car is parked, and then, you feel as though the universe hates you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Guess what happened then. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You tripped.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I tripped. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

On a pebble.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I fucking tripped on a pebble. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You’re falling forwards, thinking you’re going to smash your nose against the pathway when two really strong arms come around your waist.

Very strong.

You notice how good his arms look when they’re flexed like that, and god, does he look hot.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He caught me before I fell, but goodness. I thought his waist was the best part about his body. I was so damn wrong, because man, do his arms look amazing. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Are you all right?” He whispers. You feel his mouth at the curve of your ear, and you shiver.

For a moment, you berate yourself for having such a reaction to just his voice.

“Yeah.” You whisper back.

You can hear the stupid smile in his voice when he says: “I guess you did fall into my arms after all.”

You're too lost in his touch to feel embarrassed that he heard you and Xander talk about it.

He pulls you back, making you stand steady on your feet, before he removes his arms from your waist.

But he doesn’t do it sharp and quick, as though you burned him.

He does it slowly, his long fingers featherlight on your waist as they pull away.

You can still feel his phantom touch.

“Why– How do you do this to me?” He murmurs, so low as though he doesn’t want you to hear it.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Then he goes and murmurs about how I do something to him and his voice is gorgeous when he murmurs. I’m becoming one of those fangirls on the internet. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The man is seducing you, slowly. Everything about him is slow.

The way his lips touch the glass of whiskey and downs it in one slow gulp.

The way his fingers move from your waist and leaves a phantom touch.

The way he blinks now, leading you forwards towards your car again.

It’s like he knows what he does to you.

Oh, he knows.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He knows that I’m falling for him. He knows that when I’m with him, I lose myself. Oh god, he knows. And I love it. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Journal Entry Two ☆ Journal Entry Four

#grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #fanfic #au

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 11 months

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A Fish Out of Water ║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| A FISH OUT OF WATER | part of the A Weight Off Your Shoulders collection ║ main masterlist ║ series masterlist ║ | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x plus sized!fem!neighbor

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 4.1k | CONTENT: age gap (Joel mid 40s, neighbor late 20s), negative body image, negative self-talk, the torment of dressing rooms and trying on clothes, trying to get some healing accomplished and learn to love your body, Joel is a nasty lil slut who kneels at the altar of plus sized!fem!neighbor’s pussy

| SYNOPSIS: Joel invites you over for a swim, and your plain onepiece swimsuit isn’t gonna cut it anymore. One new swimsuit later, and things get real wet. Spoiler: Splish splash bitch we gon’ smash.

✧this is the second installment of a oneshot collection but can be read as a standalone✧

✧◦◦║ Part 1 ║ Part 3 ║ Part 4 ║ Part 5 ║ Part 6 ║◦◦✧

When Joel invited you to go swimming, you considered claiming you had horrible stomach cramps and couldn’t make it. Instead, you did your best impression of a mature adult and accepted his offer. You wouldn’t have to see yourself in swimwear if you just didn’t look down, and you could ogle a shirtless Joel. All in all, there were worse things to endure.

You reluctantly unpack the single piece of swimwear you owned: a dowdy black onepiece. Black was the most slimming color, right? It wasn’t doing a whole lot for you on that front, but it was a better option than the usual old lady floral prints that plagued the onepiece section.

You liked to think of your suit as observing Victorian mourning etiquette: veiled in an abundance of black fabric, publically grieving a body that would never be the right type or shape for anything other than full coverage swimwear.

The smack of your flip flops against his concrete patio came to a halt when you saw him. There was your fine as fuck DILF situationship leaning over the edge of the above ground pool he’d got up and running once the idea of having you over for a swim had popped into his head.

You had anticipated “Dad Swimming Trunks”, the kind that had cargo pockets galore for no fucking reason and stopped at the upper calf. You’d assumed this just based on his age, but you should have known better. This man was always surprising you in the best of ways, and he was certainly not your average middle-aged man.

You drink in the sight of his quads where the hem of his trunks sit. It was a heaven-sent style that gifted you with more of his body to gawk at. God bless whoever convinced him to get those, although you know would be thirsting over him just the same if he had been wearing the official “Dad Swimming Trunks.”

He smiled and waved when he saw you, and he shifted right into his usual stance: hands resting on his hips with one slutty little knee popped out to the side. God fucking dammit. Was it too late to claim gastrointestinal distress? Joel whistled approvingly at your funeral shroud of a bathing suit, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and giggle. What this man saw in you, you couldn’t say.

When you complimented his trendy trunks, this motherfucker had the nerve to act shy about it. His daughter had teased him about his “old man swimsuit” apparently and harassed him until he got something “cooler.” Ah, so you weren’t completely off base when you assumed he’d had the Dad Swim Uniform.

Bless his little menace bully of a daughter you laugh to yourself. Your amusement fades when you consider that you are the only one in geriatric themed swimwear. You ignore the negative voice in your head and focus on the curves and dips of Joel’s body.

The two of you swam and relaxed in the pool for a couple of hours. It actually felt nice to be buoyed by the water a little bit as you wrapped your legs around Joel’s waist and made out, or when he grabbed you from behind and let you float back and forth with his swaying as you rested your head on his shoulder. It felt nice to pretend for a little bit that you were lighter than you actually were.

You hate how you still feel timid about yourself around Joel when he has only ever made you feel amazing - emotionally and physically. If anyone had earned you letting down your walls of insecurities, it was Joel. He always managed to reframe any negative thing you had to say or think about yourself.

Getting out of breath while you rode him? “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Workin’ this cock so good you can’t even breathe. Gonna fuck all the air right outta you, sweetheart.”

Frowning at the bold colored BMI number on your check-up report? “BMI is horseshit. Don’t mean anything. Thought that you’d know that, bein’ an expert at numbers and all.”

Trying to talk him out of getting ice cream because you couldn’t “afford the extra calories”? “Got you a swirly cone so you can pretend its my cock and show me how you wanna lick it before I fuck your brains out later.”

Not wanting to sit in his lap for movie night because you were going to smush him? “If you don’t come park that ass on my lap right this second, I’m not gonna pretend to like the romcom you picked.”

Not wanting to sit on his face because you would suffocate him? “Goddamn, wouldn’t that be a glorious way to go. Promise me you’ll put it in my obituary. Add somethin’, too, about ‘died doing what he loved.’”

Joel was in a league of his own in terms of how he approached your body and your thoughts about it. You’d never had such a neutral yet admiring partner. He never fetishized your figure like some guys had done in the past. “Chubby chasers” as they were known. The term was crude and minimizing of said “chubby’s” personhood, but it was unfortunately a fitting vibe for how most guys treated you and anybody over a size 12.

Joel never tried to claim that you weren’t fat. Fat was just something you had on your body; it wasn’t your primary descriptor, and it didn’t define you. “Come on, baby, you’re not fat!” was something you had heard so many times from hookups and boyfriends. But why was that such a bad thing anyway? Couldn’t you just be fat and it not be such a horrible thing? To just exist in your own body? It was a bit hypocritical to ask of them, of course, when you were your own number one slanderer.

Joel just saw your body as, well, your body. It wasn’t some complicated thing that needed to be navigated tactfully to avoid upset. It was just one facet of you, and he liked your body because it was a part of you. He so often paid positive attention to your body because he wanted to. It wasn’t some show of affection to help boost your confidence, although it certainly helped. He liked it just as he liked your sense of humor, your financial smarts, your taste in restaurants, your little quirks…

It also didn’t hurt that he was an absolutely voracious lover, and a vocal one at that. He had some incredibly creative dirty talk that flooded your basement fast. This man could not get enough of you. New positions, new places, new everything. It was like he wanted to experience you in every combination possible, and you never turned him down.

And then that soft, tender side of him that was equally transfixing. The way he always pulled you closer to cuddle. The way he nuzzled kisses along your neck when he’d stop behind you for a moment while you were washing dishes at the sink. The way his large hands would trace mindless patterns against the inside of your thigh when you were sitting watching TV together.

The two of you weren’t officially an item, but the “we sure do a lot of relationship things for two people who aren’t in a relationship” list was growing every week. You had a feeling that Joel was more than ready to head down that path, but you still had reservations about getting into anything serious after your last bad breakup. You’d been in a long-term relationship that was about to take a turn into wedding bells and honeymoons but instead took a sharp left into “I’m throwing this years long relationship down the drain because I want to fuck somebody younger, skinnier, and better than you.”

As much as you’d love to say that you had moved on and healed from the pain that your ex-fiance Michael’s cheating had brought you, it would have been a lie. It had swallowed you up and spit you out squarely into “I’m never going to be good enough for anyone” territory. Though Joel had never given any indication that he was interested in anything but you, the fear of rejection and abandonment still loomed.

But Joel had a curious knack of worming his way into your heart and sprinkling little bits of confidence there. That’s why when you were meandering through a big chain retailer, you took a quick peek at the swimsuits they had on display. The full coverage styles that you always went for were all the way to the back, where big girls could run and hide as they shopped with shame.

A bright pink something catches your eye as you lazily scan the offerings. You can’t make out the style very well over the display rack in the middle of the section, so you venture around it to get a better look. It was absolutely adorable. Hot pink with little embroidered daisies. Your face falls, though, when you realize you are looking at a two piece with very stringy closures.

You bet Joel would like it …. If he were here with you right now, he would all but demand you at least try it on before deciding you hated it. You sigh and grab the one furthest back before heading to the dressing rooms.

God did you hate dressing rooms. There probably wasn’t another setting that had given you so many Vietnam style flashbacks than dressing rooms. Sometimes these assholes would even put in 3 slanted mirrors side by side so you had no choice but to observe yourself from more angles. Bunch of sick, twisted bastards.

You face away from the mirrors while you tie the strings around your hips and back. If you saw yourself getting into this thing, there’s no way you’d even finish putting it on all the way before you gave up. You spin with your eyes closed, facing the mirrors and counting backwards from 5 to work up the nerve to open your eyes.

Well, Joel would definitely like it, so at least there was that. The first thing your eyes flew to was your pudgy lower belly sticking out from the sides of the bottom. It butted right up to your round, jiggly, cellulite-speckled thighs. Adjusting the straps on your hips didn’t do much to magically shrink your bulgy bits, but it sort of looked like a sexy, teasing gesture when you did it.

You stand there with fidgety hands on your hips and scrutinize your reflection. You were so used to seeing yourself all covered up that this completely normal bikini made you feel like you were sporting two bandaids and a cork. A public indecency call would definitely be made to the police if you ever stepped out in this thing.

You sigh and tilt your head to the side as if it’s going to give you a more positive vantage point. The daisies looked so perfect against the pink. It was such an adorable swimsuit. You twist your hips side to side in a small swivel motion and take in the way the little neon pink strings dance across your skin, like they’re begging to be pulled until they come apart and make the bottoms fall to the floor.

It was kind of cute. You try out that little pulling on the strings on your hips motion before letting them softly snap back against your skin. The way the strings grazed your hips was kind of nice. And maybe your tits actually sort of maybe looked good???

The trickling semi-positive thoughts were unexpected but welcome. Joel must be reworking your brain or something, rewiring it to be nicer. Like his reverence of you was being absorbed osmotically and making itself at home in your mind, internalizing and mimicking his adoration but in your own words and thoughts. You had your underwear on still to try on the bottoms, and it seemed like it would be enough of a buffer to brave taking a look at your ass in this thing. You turn and crane your head over your shoulder to see the back and immediately wish you hadn’t.

“UGH gross! You could eat a whole bowl of Cheerios out of those dimples on your ass!”

There was that inner voice of yours. No more trickle of nice, Joel-style thoughts. Now just a deluge of your well honed self-criticism.

You flip the tag in your hand and look over the print. It’s on sale. Before you can think about it too much and change your mind, you shimmy out of the suit and take it to the register.

Another scorching afternoon rolls around, and you work up the nerve to suggest some pooltime to help cool off..

“Hhmmm, how ‘bout we make it a skinny dip kinda thing?” Joel waggled his eyebrows up and down theatrically, but you know he is being dead serious.

“Skinny dip for you, maybe. More like a ‘chunky dunk’ for me,” you grumble. You are already letting the voice in your head get the better of your barely-there confidence.

Never missing a beat and always managing to reframe your disparaging commentary, Joel piped up, “Yeah I got a chunk that’s gettin’ chunkier thinkin’ about us naked in the pool, and I think I know just where I’d like to dunk–”

“Shutup and get changed, pervert,” you giggle as you stand from the patio chair. He joins in a chuckle and gives your ass a little slap before sauntering down your steps and over to his house.

“See ya in 5, sweetheart. Offer for skinny dipping is still on the table.”

You stifle another laugh and shake your head. God he was so goofy and adorable sometimes. You hope that his filthy, sexy side will be the one to emerge when you debut your new bikini. This time you would not be outright lying if you postponed your swim over tummy troubles. Your stomach flipped and lurched with nerves as you look yourself up and down in the full length mirror you keep shoved behind the office door.

You were never going to feel confident enough to march over there without a care in the world, so there was no use in trying to work yourself into that mental state. You simply ignore any thoughts about it and adjust your top one last time before slipping out your back door and trudging across your yard into Joel’s.

Your skin practically prickled up in goosebumps as it greedily drank up the warm rays of sun. You feel a tinge of guilt that you have never been kind enough to your body to let it just be free and feel the world around it. You always hide it away as best as you can, shoving it into this and covering it with that. As such, some parts of it have never known the warmth of the sun hitting it or a stray breeze delicately brushing by. Your body has done so much for you. It housed you. It let you play sports. It responded enthusiastically to Joel. Instead of being grateful for all things your body has done and continues to do for you, you lash out at it and admonish its existence.

Maybe you should take a page out of Joel’s book and try to treat it with some kindness.

Said man was already waiting by the pool with the hose running to fill it up a little more. He was so handsome. Maybe you needed to pull another Joel move and dole out some compliments to him more often, too. Always preoccupied with how ugly you must look, you probably didn’t offer up enough praise for him.

“You really do look so damn good in those trunks, Joel.” The warmth of your voice draws his attention over to you with a content smirk. If there was any time you wished you’d caught something on film, it was his reaction to you.

There was an old cartoon you used to watch as a kid that had a pretty redhead lady and a wolf in a snazzy suit that who was completely enamored with her. If Joel’s eyes had the ability to shoot out in cartoonish telescopic heart style, they would’ve shot right out at you.

His jaw hung loose as he turned to face you head on. His grip on the hose never faltered, and the water meant for the pool was now splashing all over the concrete patio. It was the sort of spirited response you had hoped for, and it gave you the confidence boost you needed to get flirtatious.

“Whaddya think?”

You tilt your head to the side in a coy display. Joel licks his lips and zips his eyes over every inch of you. You take a few steps towards him and decide to lay it on a little thicker and see where it takes you.

“The pink is cute, right?” you press in a throaty hum. Your fingers glide down the strings over your shoulders and against the cups on your top. Joel’s arm drops all the way to his side, but a few of his brain cells have managed to collaborate and keep his hold tight on the hose.

“Thought you might like it.” You can see the crotch of his trunks starting to tent already, and you just can’t help yourself when you do that tug at the strings on your hips maneuver. When you let them snap against your skin, Joel drops the hose and closes the distance between you in a few hurried strides.

He stops just short of you, not wanting to get so close that he can no longer ogle. His hands hover in the air in front of you as if he can’t decide what to grab or grope first.

“Goddamn,” he breathes. His eyes widen like he’s trying to make more space for them to take in more of you.

“Joel, cut the water,” you say, pointing to the forgotten hose spewing a steady stream onto the patio. Joel doesn’t move and opts to just stare at you with a wild, hungry look. You give a feigned sigh of annoyance as you brush past him and twist the spigot off. The little bit you had to bend down to turn the water off was apparently enough to send Joel over the edge because he’s on you before you know it.

“Inside.” His voice is needy and gruff in a way you’ve never heard before. No need to get into the pool to get absolutely drenched when you’ve got this feral horndog all but pouncing on you right here and now.

“Jesus, Joel, are you in heat or something?” you tease as he pushes you backwards into the house.

The way this man was reacting to your normal as hell bikini like you were outfitted in the nastiest lingerie you could find. To be fair, you never wore anything remotely sexy or revealing, so this was as close to lingerie as Joel had ever seen on you.

Joel is seizing handfuls of you as he grips and grinds into you. The urgency in his kiss is catching, and you dart your tongue against his in a frenzied dance. He’s rock hard against you. You can feel it through his trunks on your thigh. You swallow the groan rumbling up his throat when he presses you against the roll of his hips.

He guides you to the kitchen counter and spins you around. You catch yourself on the palms of your hands as Joel jerks your hips back slightly. He spreads your legs apart with a push of his foot against yours.

“Stay just like that for me, baby.” His gravelly command locks you in place, and you wait for his next move. He crouches behind you and settles onto his knees, grunting at the ache that springs up in them regularly. He runs his hands up and down your legs and finally splay them across the expanse of your backside before pushing, pulling, and massaging the flesh there. The back panel of your bikini bottoms is now swallowed into your crease, and a surprise gasp escapes you when Joel shoves his entire face against the fabric on your crotch.

A deep groan vibrates against your clothed pussy and sends molten liquid up your spine. Joel spreads your ass open and slides his thumbs just past the junction of your thighs. His pressure gets firmer as the up and down sliding passes reach your outer lips. Your breathing is as shaky as your legs, but you try to keep in place as he asked.

One of his thumbs gently slips under the fabric and pulls it to the side, revealing your slick covered slit. You start to say his name but it’s cut off when he spits a hot pearl of saliva onto your bare cunt. You jolt at the sensation and have no time to recover before the flat of his tongue is smearing across your heat. When your hips jerk a second time at that, Joel reaches both arms through your legs and hooks them onto your thighs to hold you in place. Your belly pushes into the counter as Joel darts his tongue in and out of you, swirling and nipping at your clit.

You’re close to climax when he suddenly pulls up and pulls you flush against his chest.

“Can I take you just like this?” he rasps.

Usually you use a condom, but fuck it. There’s no way you’re pressing pause on this.

“Take it however you want it, baby,” you whine back.

Joel literally growls in reply, and you hear him shoving at the waistband of his trunks before seeing them fall to the floor and kicked to the side. You move to untie your bikini bottoms, but Joel’s hand stops you.

“No. Want ‘em on,” he grunts before lifting your leg onto the counter and shoving the fabric against your crotch aside once more.

Joel was always big to take, and his swift entry all the way to the base of his cock was a whole new feat. You were incredibly grateful that you were already so wet and sticky for him. You choke out a moan at the blissful stretch that stings just right. Joel pauses and offers a hurried apology, hoping he hasn’t hurt you in his rush to fill you up.

“Fuck me now,” you grit.

Joel does that, and more. His body has your leg pinned onto the counter while one hand is on your clit and the other going back and forth between your nipples with a pinch and a roll of his thumb and middle finger. Just like your bottoms, Joel leaves your top on and instead shoves his hands under the cups to touch you. You are grabbing at the cabinets and anything else you can find, just trying to hold on while receiving Joel’s punishing pace and thrusts.

“Ohh-ahh, Joel, I can’t-I can’t hold on,” you stutter. “Can’t hold on m-much more.”

“Make a fuckin’ mess of my cock, baby. Wanna feel you come on this cock. Pretty pink pussy in this pretty pink bikini. All fuckin’ mine.”

When he tilts your hips just so and bottoms out every pass, you careen over the edge and let out a broken sob of his name. The gripping, pulsing clench of you on his length sends Joel into his own release shortly after. He fucks you both through it and eventually slows to a sloppy roll of his hips.

He steps back enough for your leg to come off the counter but quickly steps forward again so you’re leaning against it once more. You can feel his hard pulls of air and huffs of exhales between your shoulder blades as he wraps his arms around your middle.

“God-fuckin’-damn,” he pants with a laugh.

You are completely fucked out and can’t string words together to save your life.

“You been holdin’ out on me, sweetheart. Hidin’ this pretty thing,” he hums, pulling at the strings on your hips.

You mumble something incoherent that was supposed to express that it was new and you hadn’t been keeping it from him. Joel chuckles, “Fuckin’ cockdrunk. Just how I love.”

To that you shoot him a conspiratorial smile. He pulls out of you, groaning with satisfaction as his spend leaks out of you and down your thigh. “I think the only water activity today is gonna be a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckles against your ear. “We can save skinny dipping for next time.”

You laugh quietly, enjoying the happy dance of chemicals in your brain, and wonder to yourself if you’re ever going to make it into the pool with your new suit. With Joel around, chances are slim to none.

Thank you for the positive response to the first installment of these two (A Weight Off Your Shoulders). They are so fun to write, and based on the reception from AWOYS I just had to share this lil snippet I had already written. These two have really made a home for themselves in my brain!

Special shoutout to @thesailorofuranus for encouraging me to share more of these two with the world. I might just be working on a lil something she requested in the last one, so be on the lookout. 😈 Again ty ty ty for reading. If you wanna catch up on the series that I will be updating next, check out this link to Endless Night.

Catch ya later,

♥Puddles♥

#fic: a weight off your shoulders #joel miller #joel miller x plus size reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller hbo #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #oneshots

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fictionalscenarios · 1 year

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bts jungkook - sex after date

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: smut

warning: 18+ (light bdsm)

___

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours and scooped you into his arms as if you weighed no more than a feather. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, coming even closer to him and only parting your lips just as you were both running out of oxygen. ´I want you, Y/N.´ He whispered as if asking for permission, but you were unable to do anything more than mumble and reach for more through the deep breaths between kisses. 'No no no, I need to hear it in words, yes, babygirl?' 'I want you too. I want you too, daddy.'

As if that last word changed something in Jungkook, his pupils suddenly widened and in a few quick steps, you made your way from the wall next to the bedroom door to the bed where he practically threw you on top of you. You weren't able to resist the kisses he placed on your lips first but then moved on to your neck and chest. ´My little slutty girl.´ He whispered and in one smooth movement, he unzipped your dress so he could gather it up to your waist and get to the lacy bra you wore today just for him.

'You're so beautiful to me - just to me.' He whispered again, you could hear him speaking in a much deeper voice than normal now. He kissed your belly button and you arched your back. Every touch of his lips to your skin seemed to send hundreds of tiny needles all over your body - the pleasant tingling left you to do nothing but squirm and sigh softly, which you tried to stifle by biting your bottom lip.

'Jungkook…' You breathed out and tried to pull him closer to you, but instead, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the mattress. With a slight smirk, he slid your dress down to your ankles with his free hand and gazed at your entire body, now covered only by a piece of tiny lacy underwear. 'You are so beautiful. Perfect.' He repeated again and this time he kissed you on the lips before trailing two fingers from your lingeries. You stared at him and couldn't help but bite your lip almost to the point of blood - the gentle movements on your sweet spot were driving you crazy, but he just smiled slightly. 'So wet, huh? And I haven't started anything yet.'

You loved the way Jungkook was talking to you and right now your brain was just as occupied with all the pleasure he was giving you. with your movements. Unable to answer him, you felt yourself getting close to the edge when he suddenly stopped. You let out a disappointed breath but he just smiled. 'Be patient, babygirl.'

He let go of your hands and stood up, still pulling your lacy underwear down to your ankles - now he could look at you, you were completely exposed to him and he was still fully dressed in the white suit from the fancy dinner he took you to earlier today one of the most expensive restaurants in your neighborhood. You resisted the temptation to cover yourself, his hungry gaze was driving you crazy, but you knew you couldn't - otherwise, you would be punished. Jungkook loved just looking at you, driving you crazy.

'Please, just finally take me.' You only whispered as you couldn't stand his gaze on your naked body buried in the covers as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. 'Kind of impatient, huh?' Jungkook smiled, but then quickly removed his shirt from his shoulders and pulled down his pants with his boxers underneath. Your gaze seemed to drift down on him on its own, but you quickly blushed and looked at the wall, biting your lip again.

'Even after such a long time you are still blushing. You're adorable, babygirl.' Jungkook laughed and then finally leaned over you and gave you a few more quick kisses, this time on your nipples, making you gasp again. Then he just directed his pride towards your entrance and immediately you felt him fill you up.

You were grateful that he gave you a moment to get used to it before he made a few shallow movements followed by only hard thrusts into you. You moaned and tried to pull him closer to you, running your fingers into his hair, but he just grabbed your wrists again and pinned your hands above your head before increasing the force of his thrusts.

Jungkook's thrusts made you slowly reach the peak, but always, just a moment before, he either stopped or changed the angle of thrusts with a small smirk. You moaned in displeasure as he did it again - as if he really enjoyed it that much. ´Daddy, please, let me cum.´ You begged desperately and you already felt like you could finally climax when he stopped. 'My sweet girl. Do you think you deserve it?'He only asked and you could only nod at him.

For a while, he still looked like he was enjoying denying you an orgasm, but when you pulled him into a kiss, he was already thrusting at the same angle in a regular rhythm. 'Daddy, I…' You breathed out - I didn't want to climax without his consent. You couldn't, otherwise, the punishment would come.

'You can, babygirl.' He only allowed you and at that moment you reached your climax - your eyes went dark and you could only perceive from afar how Jungkook moaned at the sight of your writhing body and after a few more jerking thrusts he also came over the edge . You slowly brought your mind back to earth as you felt his gentle touches on your body, the blanket he covered you with and his arms pulling you close to him. Your eyes started to glaze over, this whole thing may have seemed like a short moment, but it seemed to completely drain you. And at the same time, you knew that with Jungkook, it's never just a moment.

Goodnight, baby girl. I love you.' Jungkook just whispered in your ear. ´I love you more.´ You only managed to exhale quietly and then, in the arms of the person you loved the most in the whole world, you fell into the world of dreams.

___

hi guys, if you have any requests, just text me!

thank you and take care of yourself, love you <3

#bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #smut #bts smut

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firemenenthusiast · 3 days

Text

thinking about being jann’s wag (wife and girlfriends of sportmen or women)

summary: what its like being at jann’s races

content: fluff and wholesomeness

“and also spotted here with us today with the nissan crew is jann mardenborough’s partner smiling bright at the chances he has today”

the loudspeakers of the track booming with the commentator’s light voice. suddenly your face is plastered all over the big screens with your name across it. you flash your proudest smile, looking up at the screens as you hear the whole audience cheer.

they could be cheering for anything else but you’re here to cheer for your handsome boy. the broadcasting cameras are now tracking him down, as shown on the big screens. he’s standing beside his car, his face tilted upwards obviously watching the screens that were showing you. he’s grinning realising that he’d been caught snooping. the racing suit hugging his body perfectly showcasing his broad shoulders. and his slutty waist. he shakes his head still smiling before returning to the paddock with his helmet in his hand

its not the first time you’d follow him to his races, you’d insisted on going just to enjoy how hot he looks on the tracks in real life. not that you hadn’t seen him on the tv but they dont really focus on jann all the time. here, you get praises from the crews all the time because of his talent and skills. everytime he would advance they’d be searching your face for a reaction and you couldn’t be prouder. and he knows it too, it’s become his motivation on the track, he’s focused to do his best and to make you proud

best part of being at his races ? you would get to see him coming towards you in all his glory, face shiny with a thin layer of sweat. just like right now. you greet him into the paddock with a hand on his chest, his arm wrapped around you. he leans down for a kiss which you return passionately

“i saw you on the screens” he tells you

“yeah ? well i saw you passing capa, you looked hot”

“you couldnt even see me in the car”

“exactly” at which he throws his head back chuckling

though he has other things to settle before going home after finishing the race (winning), he’d ask jack to go see you first just to be peppered with kisses all over his face. after couple of times, jack already knows he’d want to go see you first and he’d just be happy for the both of you.

puppy love, he thinks.

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kazuwhora · 2 years

Text

MONEY TREES — K. NAHOYA

cw. fem!reader, hit man!nahoya, car sex, tiny bit of degradation, I guess kinda sorta dubcon, cunnilingus

wc. 1.599

an. submission #1 for @novaresque and @festive's dirty money collab goodbye

“you look like a slut” nahoya spat, sitting back in his chair with his feet propped up on the seat. his eyes were creased in a smile, but his words stung like acid.

you had spent all day searching for an outfit appropriate enough to meet his coworkers, but nothing you had brought to the table thus far had gained his approval. instead, he shook his head with each outfit, finding something wrong about it until you were left with only the skimpiest of clothes left.

“I don’t know what you want me to wear then” you huffed, crossing your arms which only made your tits pop out even more.

nahoya only grinned. “did I say I didn’t want you to look like a slut?”

your eyes widened at the remark as your shoulders suddenly shrank forward with insecurity as you thought about the conservativeness of the outfits he had denied before landing where you were— slutty.

“you want me to meet your boss like this?” you asked, doubtful that his intentions were true. but he nodded again, this time with eyes that grew dark and lustful as he scanned your figure in front of him.

“it’s my money dressin’ you, aint it?”

you shrugged, analyzing each piece of clothing and remembering the black card you swiped each time with nahoya’s name on it.

“yeah.. I just don’t wanna be the only one there dressed like this..”

nahoya could sense the hesitation in your voice, but he didn’t care. if only you had known what his job entailed— just exactly what he did for work beyond the few details he let slip to you when you had nagged just a little too much. if you had known, then your tits spilling from the edges of the fabric would be the least of your concerns.

“I think it looks hot” he shrugged, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

you sighed, eyes rolling as you slipped the thin straps from your shoulders, gazing at yourself in the mirror behind him.

“you ready?” he asked, impatiently shifting as you inspected the dress and the way it hugged your body. in all honesty, you had never paid much attention to the dozens of outfits that hung in your closet. you barely remembered where you had picked this one up, or how much it had cost your boyfriend for that matter.

“I guess so” you huffed, hurrying past him to make any last minute adjustments to your hair and makeup which had nearly taken the whole day to do. nahoya’s eyes rolled as he got up, smoothing the creases in his suit before his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you from the mirror and out the bedroom door.

“we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry. don’t want that, huh?” he teased, kicking a pair of heels towards you that you grabbed by the straps and struggled to slip on as you walked.

life with nahoya always came with the most luxurious of experiences. he always had a chauffeur waiting at your disposal, black cards stashed in your wallet with his name on them, and endless bits of diamonds and accessories that made your body glimmer with opulence. but he was always distant, spending weeks away from home with nothing more than a few texts every now and then to let you know his whereabouts. this time, he wanted to show you off. he wanted to cart you around like his little princess, showing his goods off like an auction he knew only he could afford, and it was that very possessiveness that took over his mind far too often.

as you stepped into the dimly lit cabin of the limousine, nahoya slipped beside you, resting his hand on your thigh as the valet closed the door behind him. the partition was pulled, leaving the low hum of music to vibrate across the floors as the car began to move.

“are you gonna be able to handle it there?” nahoya hummed, pushing your hair away from your shoulder leaving your neck exposed and vulnerable. the way he eyed you up made you feel like prey, and his grip on your thigh only tightened the more he admired your body.

“why wouldn’t I?” you looked away as you spoke, but nahoya’s hand only trailed up your thigh and teased at the hem of your dress.

“dunno.. I think I might’a underestimated how good you’d look in front of ‘em all”

your breath hitched when he finally pushed away the silky fabric, slipping his hand between your thighs where his thumb grazed your clit and a dirty smile painted his lips.

“nahoya please” you whispered, turning your head to give him a warning glare, but his face was already dangerously close and your lips barely touched as you turned to face him.

“please what?” he mocked, toying with your clit as you kept yourself from melting under his touch.

nahoya knew his effect on you— he knew how easy it was to fluster you, to make your heart skip a beat, and the excitement that built in his core with every whimper or shaky breath that fell from your lips was enough to make him want to take you right then and there.

“can’t you wait til later?”

nahoya only laughed, thumb pressing on your clit harder as his lips brushed against yours in a gentle kiss. the softness of his lips foiled the crudeness of his voice, snickering as he teased you to the point of quiet whimpers that bounced off the floors of the car.

“don’t wanna wait” he whispered, hooking his fingers around the edges of your panties as he slid them down your legs and shifted in his seat. “I wanna taste you now”

you knew there was no arguing with nahoya when his eyes grew dark with lust, and his body moved on autopilot. in two shaky breaths, nahoya had already made his way to his knees, elbows propped on the seat beside you as he spread your legs and pulled your panties to your ankles.

“you know you want it” he spoke under his breath as he guided your legs up onto the seat. you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt, teasing and taunting you as your face turned hot with embarrassment. “see? you’re such a little slut huh?”

you squeezed your eyes shut as nahoya’s tongue teased your clit in slow circles, lapping at your juices that stuck to his chin as he held your legs apart with nails dug into your skin.

“such a pretty pussy— can’t be showin’ up all needy and desperate can we?”

the press of his tongue grew stronger as you shook your head, holding back the moans that came with kitten licks at your bud as he smiled against your cunt.

“that’s it princess, wanna hear you beg for me” he hummed with a confidence that made you squirm. but as the strokes of nahoya’s tongue picked up pace, so did your moans that slipped from your lips with ease. his fingers dug deeper into your skin each time you whimpered his name, and nahoya could feel the throb of his cock pushing against the his pants tighter and tighter the more you moaned for him. his tongue grew sloppier, resorting to burying his whole face in your cunt until his nose was pressed against your pelvis, tongue slurping and dragging up and down your clit and collecting your arousal like he had never tasted you before. he was messy, and loud, moaning against your skin almost louder than you as he relished in your whines and the grip of your hands in his hair.

“so fuckin’ good” he groaned, one hand leaving your thigh as it trailed down his body to palm at his cock through his pants. “wanna taste your cum on my tongue, ‘kay?” he mumbled, voice vibrating against your skin as his tongue dipped inside of you in sporadic motions that made your body tense.

“now” he hissed, and his his words were enough to push you closer and closer to the edge as you felt your head begin to feel fuzzy while heat pooled at your core the more he pushed you. the way his voice was tinted with a sense of desperation made your body tingle, and you watched as nahoya buried his face back into your cunt with his other hand frantically fisting his cock. watching him stroke himself so pathetically made your clit ache as his tongue swirled around you, sucking and nibbling until your whimpers turned to moans and your legs squirmed in his grasp. pleasure gripped you by your throat as you struggled to breathe, letting nahoya’s tongue guide you through your high. your fingers looped strands of peachy curls between them as your choked sobs bled through the air, pushing him closer and closer to the edge until the taste of your pleasure was too much, and his cock ached and throbbed as spurts of his cum leaked through his pants.

“fuck” nahoya groaned, his torso jerking as he covered the wet patch with his hand. he couldn’t help but gaze up at your face ridden with daze, as a combination of sweat and glitter shimmered across your skin while you struggled to catch your composure.

“guess we’ll have’ta call off this meeting then” he shrugged, sitting back against the table behind him as you pressed your thighs together and scrambled to collect your panties from around your ankles.

“didn’t want’cha to meet him anyways”

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tsuk0mii · 2 years

Text

Your fave x f!reader

cw. smut (????), suggestive, established relationship, making out, marking, man i honestly dont know what else || 18+ i think

note: oh god pls dont even get me started on this one, i was tryna make something suggestive when i suddenly blacked out and wrote this- forgive me if it’s bad it’s my first time writing something like this LMFAOO

The red dress did a good job in showing every curve in your body to look more detailed. You tried pulling the zipper but you couldn’t move it all the way up. Thinking of doing it later, you took your pearl necklace out that your boyfriend had gifted you on your birthday. As you put your necklace on, the hook was hard to put as you struggled.

"Need some help with that love?" A voice interrupted your battle with the necklace as your eyes diverted to his muscular figure leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed dressed up in his suit. His eyes looked tired but there was a spark in it that made you always weak in the legs, his sharp jawline along with his shining lips that you wanna kiss all the time. His tie was loosely hanging around the collars as he left 2-3 buttons of his shirt open. His exposed chest gives you memories from some unholy nights you’ve spent with him.

“I know I’m hot and all but, it’s rude not to answer when being called out 5 times.” His raspy voice interrupted the thoughts that corrupted your mind, when you suddenly realized you were checking him out. He walked in as his shoes touching the ground was the only sound that was being created through the thick tension in the room.

His figure got closer as he moved behind you, slowly zipping your dress up. His warm fingers touched your cold back as it sent a burning sensation to the spot his fingers had touched. Only his touch was enough to send shivers down your spine and he knew it, he knew the effect he had on you, he knew the control he had on you as he took the advantage of the situation.

"Calm down now.” He chuckled seeing you squirm in your seat. “Let's move on to the necklace." He whispered in your ear as a little smirk was plastered on his face from the moment he saw you all hot and bothered, just for him. You handed him the necklace as his hands touched the back of your neck, flinching from the sudden contact.

“Fuck the necklace.” He grumbled as he roughly pulled you up from your seat and pinned you against the wall, trapping you in his muscular arms. You took a deep breath inhaling the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with his body odor. His eyes were hungry and you knew exactly the type of hunger he craved because you wanted the same hunger he did.

His stare was intense as if looking for answers. He got closer to your ears and whispered “It would kill me that every man beside me can look at a goddess like you in this slutty dress.” His whisper made your heart race more than it should’ve. His breath hits your ears making you feel things. You held the loose ends of his tie, playing with it “Then mark me yours.“ You whispered in his ears as one look was enough for him to kiss the sweet spot on your neck.

Your bodies were pressed together, as he sucked on your soft skin making it red as you bit your lip to control your moans. You could feel the wetness forming between your legs, his hands held your waist roughly yet it felt soft and comforting to be in his arms. your eyes closed due to the satisfaction you were receiving from the man you had great care for. Your legs were now wrapped around his waist as your hands played with his soft (h/c) hair. His wet kisses on your neck continued as he started to lose control when you felt his erection in your inner thigh.

You lightly pushed him away as you innocently smiled towards him “I have a surprise for you when we come back. Wait for it.” you whispered the last part. As you walked out of the room to touch up in the bathroom, he smirked in amusement watching you walk out not feeling even a bit guilty about the problem you caused him.

Reblogs appreciated >3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin smut #your fave #your fave x reader #your fave smut #mha smut #tokyo revengers smut #aot smut #yui.fics #sobbing #idk if it's smut bc #there's no in nd out???!?

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missallsundaes · 3 years

Note

May I have a notsafeforwork Buggy x nb reader where he's in a FOUL mood and everyone's like pssst take one for the team and cheer the bastard up since its obvious to everyone but Buggy and reader their into one another anyway. Thanks x

oooh fun fun prompt.. I love Buggy… probably too much. BUT that means that yeah you can absolutely have nsfw Buggy.

CW: face fucking, devil fruit nonsense, doggy style.

The clown had definitely been taking his anger out on the Big Top, you could nearly retrace his steps through the destruction in the hallways. You definitely wished that today wasn’t the day you were looking for him, especially to deliver some bad news delivered via DenDen Moshi. You found Cabaji and Alvida before you found the Captain. They were deep in talk on the deck of the ship, and as soon as they say you, Alvida’s eyes lit up, plan already hatched in her mind.

“Just the errand keeper I needed,” She said, waving you over. “Buggy is in just a terrible mood today isn’t he, Cabaji?”

He nodded, “I don’t know what’s wrong with the Captain but he’s mad at just about everything.”

“So I was thinking,” Alvida continued, barely giving Cabaji time to finish confirming her previous sentence, “You know how the Captain has a shine for you?”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, “Does he?” You weren’t quite playing dumb, you just really hadn’t noticed any favourable conditions he had given you, though you admitted you had seen him more than once in different states of undress that made your mind wander.

Cabaji nodded as Alvida continued, “Yeah, definitely, have you never noticed the way he watches you?” She laughed. “Anyway so we were thinking, what’s the best stress relief? Sex. Right. Sex. So what you’re gonna—“

Your face flushed red, “You want me to fuck the Captain?”

“Well there’s not.. anyone better suited for it,” Alvida said, and Cabaji nodded again. She opened the door near where you were standing. “He’s in the Captain’s Office, I believe” The shouting and smashing from down the hallway would make you believe that was definitely the case. She gave you a little push down the hallway, giving you a smile and a thumbs up before shutting the door behind you.

You were suddenly much more nervous to find your captain than you were a minute ago, especially because you weren’t sure if he had talked to Alvida before you had. You knocked on the door to his office, and the door swung open almost immediately.

The clown’s face was in yours as the door swung open, “WHAT?” He shouted, his eyebrows knit together over the crossbones drawn on his face.

“Uh, Alvida sent me?” You tried, maybe going with the subtle, if he hadn’t talked to her yet.

“For fucks sake, why? Do I not have enough to deal with today?” He turned around, stomping back to his desk and flipping over paperwork. “This goddamn Warlord paperwork is more than I want to do, I’m a pirate I’m not meant to do paperwork, I’m meant to pillage and loot!” He said, gesturing wildly at the room, as if talking to a crowd and not just you behind him.

You slid into the room, shutting the door behind you.

“If It would help relieve some stress,” You said, summoning the courage from deep inside your belly, “You could.. pillage me?”

His head whipped around, disconnecting from his neck in an absolutely terrifying sight, “Are you suggesting what I think?”

“I mean, if it would help.” You nodded, “It’s not like I haven’t had fantasies about you Captain..” Oh gods, that was more than you meant to admit but now it was out there and you were just gonna deal with those consequences.

His hands were on your hips in seconds, lifting you up and pulling you towards him, he had turned his body to face you now as well, a crooked dirty smile on his lips, and hungry look in his eyes.

“You know your Captain doesn’t share, right?” He said once you were positioned in front of him, his voice husky and deep on your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m just yours Captain.” You managed to croak out, his hands now exploring your body, his gloved fingers exploring your bare skin, one tracing down your spine and the other down into the front of your trousers to feel your arousal.

His body pressed into you, he nibbled on your neck, leaving marks behind as he tracked his way to your chin. You could feel his erection against your thigh, pressing desperately, impatiently into your soft skin.

His left hand reattached to his wrist, the other pawing at your sex, making you writhe and mewl for more of his ministrations.

His arm moved around you and he scooped you up into his arms and set you on the desk, scattering the paperwork across the floor, he ripped open your top, buttons flying across the room from his violent action, his teeth finding your bare skin to bite and suckle on, making you moan for him more. He pulled his hand from your body, causing you to whine at the missing sensation, and you felt him smirk against your body.

“Like it that much, did’ya?” He crooned, you looked down at him, nodding weakly, seeing the red of his lipstick smeared on his face and across your chest, sending new fire to your loins.

“Yes Captain, please more,” You mumbled, reaching your hands up to find his hair spilling from the corners of his hat, but he moved quicker, taking the hat off completely and letting his hair fall down around your face.

“What was that, Couldn’t hear you?” He said, pulling down your trousers and underwear from your hips, letting gloved hands tease down your thighs.

“Please Captain Buggy, more,” You said, feeling him tugging down his trousers, “Please Captain, let me suck your dick” You moaned as he bit your nipple, leaving a ring of his lipstick around your areola. “I want to suck your dick.”

He backed up from you, sitting in his chair behind the desk, “Come on then, suck my cock.” He said, gesturing to his hard member standing at attention between his legs. You let yourself slide off the desk and between his legs, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and your lips around his swollen glands. He moaned above you, his hands finding their way into your hair and pressing you to swallow more of his cock. You flattened your tongue, sucking down more of his dick and rotating your hand to stimulate him at the same time. Flicking your tongue against the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft as you hollowed your cheeks on his member, devouring him like he was your last meal.

The hand on your head pulled you back, freeing your mouth and letting your spit dribble from the corners of your lips. You breathed deeply, catching your breath and trying to get back to his cock, tongue lolling out of your mouth in a greedy slutty show for him, but he was holding you just out of range, sadistic smile on his face above you.

“Are you that hungry for me, you little tramp,” He said, letting you pull your own hair as you tried to reach his member with your lips again. “Ask again for what you want,”

“I want your cock, Captain,” You said without hesitation, licking your lips as you looked up at him in his chair, “Please Captain let me have it.”

He brought you down swiftly, your mouth opening on instinct to take him to the hilt, he held you in place before using your hair as a handle to fuck your face. His hips eagerly thrusting with the same rhythm as his hand as he used you like a personal toy.

You could feel his posture tighten under you, and he held you still, trying to not let himself come yet, his dick down your throat and twitching, eager to let loose the pent up seed. He let himself calm down before pulling you off of him and letting go of your hair.

“I need to fuck you, I need to be inside you.” He said, voice deep and commanding. You eagerly stood up, laying yourself across his desk, knee up on the firm oak of the desk so he had easy access to your awaiting hole.

“Mmm, good, well trained already,” He hummed behind you, standing behind you to position himself, but wasting no time in slipping himself in. He barely gave you time to adjust to his dick inside you before his hands were gripped on your hips, thrusting deeply into you, making you gasp and moan for him with each pump of his hips.

You weren’t going to last long, even with so little foreplay on yourself, the rough treatment and being treated like his personal fucktoy had gotten you going something fierce, added to the loyalty, love, and devotion you already had for your captain and you could feel the tight coil inside you pressing and straining.

“Captain, let me cum for you,” You moaned, not knowing what you would do if he said no, you were desperate for it, desperate to cum and feel him cum inside you. Without answering you, his hands found your sex, teasing you along to the same rhythm that he fucked you with.

“Come for me,” He moaned, voice sounding desperate himself, his hands making sloppy movements on you as he felt himself beginning to come, but his first spasm inside you was the last straw you needed to feel the spring within you release, and you came messily together, as he pulled out to cum across your back, stroking himself and you in turn with both of his hands until your orgasms had both subsided.

“Fuck I needed that,” He said, slumping back into his chair, pulling you by the waist to sit down on his lap. He nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving kisses on the skin he could touch.

“oh Captain,” You moaned, settling down into his arms, “In all my fantasies its never been that good.”

He laughed into your shoulder, “Just wait until next time, I can always top my best.”

#Buggy the clown x reader #Buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy #one piece #one piece x reader #reader insert #NB reader #n/sfw text #n/sfw under cut

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again.

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out.

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him.

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married.

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'.

It made you want to puke.

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared.

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth.

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him.

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby.

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!"

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him.

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out.

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line.

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault.

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him.

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you.

He didn’t even make it to the hospital.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free.

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder.

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default.

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars. Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better.

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink.

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences.

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.”

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt.

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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nashibirne · 3 years

Text

London Calling - 1

Yes, I'm still in my August phase and I'm not even sorry...I just can't stop thinking about the sexy mf and so this idea crossed my mind and turned into a storyline. I have to admit I'm even more nervous about posting this than usual because it's a little different from what I've written before and I really hope it's not going to bore the shit out of you. If you like this although the tension between August and my ofc builds slowly, please let me know. I appreciate every single comment, reblog and/or like! Thanks 💜

Pairing: Augut Walker x OFC (Lu Johnson)

Words: ~3.0 k

Summary and A/N: This story plays with the thought of "what if…" What if August Walker had taken another road? What if he had turned into John Lark for completely different reasons? What if he had found love before becoming a bitter, disillusioned man?So the events of "London Calling" take place about ten years prior to MI:Fallout and August Walker hasn't joined the CIA yet, he's an FBI Agent and his new mission in London that lies ahead of him is going to be a challenging one. Maybe it's even going to change his life.

Warnings: 18+! This story deals with the topic of a toxic/abusive relationship, gaslighting and problematic behavior of one of the protagonists in general. Please don't read if these topics trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily I've never been in any kind of toxic or abusive relationship, so I lack personal experience but I hope still do this sensitive topic justice.

English is not my mother tongue but the lovely @sillyrabbit81 was so kind to be my very helpful and patient Beta! Thank you so, so much, bunny 🐇💜 You have no idea how much I appreciate your support, your encouragement, your help and the fact that you took the time to proofread this. (Edited by me, so there might still be mistakes and they're all mine)

📖 You can find my other fics on my Masterlist 📖

Credits: I don't own August Walker or anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claims: Lu - Hannah van der Westhuysen, Adam - Freddie Thorpe. FaceApp helped me with making August look a little younger

Taglist

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfanfics101 @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke

So...now...off we go...story under the cut!

"London? Are you kidding me, Kyle?"

August Walker stopped pacing the room with an incredulous frown. He raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's face.

"Absolutely not," his superior and close friend of many years said slowly, drawling both words more than necessary to stress that he wasn't joking. "They want you in London."

"What about my promotion? You gave me your word. You wanted me to finish Operation Old Bridge and that's what I did. You wanted Tony Salerno's head on a silver platter, that's what you got."

August's voice was surprisingly calm, his expression blank but his gaze was blazing with anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists and he only opened them to lean on Kyle's wooden desk, which was very tidy, except for the piles of case files that slowly grew larger than him.

"Damn, Kyle, I risked my life when I went undercover and joined this Mafia mob."

"I know, August, but unfortunately my hands are tied. Interpol wants our best undercover Agent and that's you. Just this last job and afterwards you can happily join the CIA." SSA Kyle Langdon leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck with a sigh and an apologetic shrug.

"That's exactly what you said last time. Do you expect me to believe you?"

"As I said, it's not my doing. Manchester contacted Bill because the NCB needs help, blue notice, August. You know that we cannot say no and that means...London calling, man," Kyle pointed out with a smile. "You should be grateful, it's a great opportunity. So just do your job there, return and get your promotion."

"Why don't you just send someone else and I get my promotion right now? We have many great undercover agents. Craig for example. He's crazy about British pussies. He'll love London." August straightened his tall body before crossing his arms in front of his broad chest that was forced into a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket.

"No, Craig cannot go because they want you in this operation. They asked explicitly for Agent August Walker. That's a huge appreciation of your work and a big compliment. You're only 27, August, not many FBI agents are this well known and respected at such a young age." Kyle sat up straight, mirroring August's body language.

"I don't give a shit about their respect and appreciation. I know my worth and I know I'm your best agent. I've worked very hard to get where I stand now... just one step away from becoming a CIA agent," August said angrily, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark. "Fuck, Kyle...why use an American agent in a purely British matter in the first place? They could easily…"

"Listen, August," Kyle cut in and he got up and walked around his desk to face his friend, "the thing is, I am not asking you to do this, okay? It's not a request, it's an order. There's no room to negotiate."

He gave him a friendly smile to temper his words before placing a hand on August's shoulder. "No hard feelings. It's…"

"It's the job. Yeah. I know." August took a step back and nodded his head slowly, curling his lip. He had heard his boss say these words so many times and he hated that line although he was perfectly aware that it was the truth. That was the way it worked. They got orders, they did the job, no matter what. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling a bad headache brewing behind his forehead.

"I have already talked to Sloane about this. Erica seconds the motion by Interpol because she wants you to prove yourself in another operation abroad. If you are successful you will be part of her team. It's simple, Walker. Just don't fuck this up."

"I've never fucked anything up,” August snarled, clenching his teeth, his jaw grinding.

"See, that's exactly why they want you,” Kyle answered with a triumphant smile.

****

"Lu!" Adam Mayfield knocked impatiently on the bathroom door. "Get ready. We're going to be late." He glanced at his Rolex with an annoyed sigh before he straightened his tuxedo jacket and adjusted his bow tie for the umpteenth time. "God damn, this meeting is important." He banged his fist against the door again and rolled his eyes when he heard her muffled voice behind the bathroom walls. "Just a minute, Adam."

Although he was really a little angry that it took her so long to get ready, they weren't actually late, in fact there was more than enough time to meet up with his clients at The London Opera. He had just said that to make her hurry up. Lu had the tendency to dawdle around, she got easily distracted and it was his responsibility to help her with that bad habit and usually it worked well.

Compared to the woman she was when they had met at a party more than five years ago, she had improved her behavior a lot, thanks to his efforts and his strict education. She had been common as muck when they started dating, an ordinary working class girl, smart but not a bit sophisticated, pretty but with no sense of fashion or taste, ambitious but without any connections. He had changed that, he had moulded her into the beautiful, stylish, refined and cultured woman she was now. She was his work, his success, his pride...she was his.

When the door of the bathroom that was adjacent to the master bedroom finally swung open, the welcoming sight of his fiancee interrupted his thoughts and picked up his spirits immediately.

"Wow, this was worth the wait." He eyed her up and down with a smirk and leaned in for a kiss but she stopped him with her hands pressed against his narrow chest.

"No, you're gonna ruin my make-up, darling." Lu smiled at him and spinned around to present him her dress. The black, belted Burberry gown was elegant and classy. High-necked on the front but with a low back that showed off lots of her perfect, lightly tanned skin. Chaste and sexy at the same time, just the way Adam liked it.

"That dress is stunning, baby. You look wonderful." He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close to leave a sensual kiss on her slim neck while his hands wandered to her ass where they rested for a moment before they squeezed her firm cheeks. "I really hope you're not wearing any panties."

Lu freed herself from his embrace with a frown and stepped in front of the large wall mirror opposite of their king-size bed to check her reflection one last time, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Of course I'm wearing panties. We're going to the opera with your VIP clients." She walked to her dressing table and took the diamond-encrusted, leaf-shaped brooch Adam had given her for their five years anniversary on New Year's Eve. "Would you help me with this?"

Adam took the piece of jewelry from her slim hand and pinned it carefully on her dress, right above her heart. He kissed her tenderly but his expression was stern when he spoke. "Strip it off."

Lu's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You heard me. Get rid of your thong. I know you're wearing one of these slutty, tiny g-strings to make sure your look is flawless and your underwear doesn't show under your dress." His face hardened slightly, yet his voice remained soft and smooth.

"But…"

"Don't test me, Lu,” he said slowly, still smiling but screwing up his beautiful grey eyes. "I want you naked underneath that dress in case I want to have a little fun with you tonight. I mean, we both know Rigoletto is gonna be boring as fuck, we may need a little distraction." He gave her a lewd smirk and with a tiny frown and a raise of his brows he motioned her to be obedient. "You don't want anything to get in my way, do you? Not even a little piece of lace, right?"

"Of course not, Adam," she answered softly with a smile she had to force onto her lips. Lu reached under her dress with shaking hands and pulled down her panties till they hit the floor so she could step out of them carefully, making sure they wouldn't get tangled up in her stiletto heels.

"Good girl," Adam said with a wolfish grin and with a sly smile he added, "you know what, baby? I think I'm going to have a little fun with you just now. My clients can wait."

Lu didn't even try to argue with him, knowing exactly that she was in a no-win situation. She closed her eyes and turned around, lifting up her dress, when she heard him unzip his fly.

****

While Adam Mayfield was fucking his fiancee in front of a mirror in one of the most exclusive penthouses in London, August Walker was having a bad coffee, sitting at a table in the plain and pretty ugly meeting room of their FBI department at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington DC, listening to the explanations of Kyle and the lead of 'Operation Brutus', Christine Carpenter. He didn't like her much but he respected her competence and her leadership qualities and most of all he trusted her with giving him the perfect fake identity for the job in London.

"So, what do you have for me, Chris?" August looked at her with a smile, but his eyes gave away that he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Well, let me just explain the background first, okay?"

She pressed a button on her laptop and the handsome face of a young man appeared on the screen behind her.

"This", she nodded at the picture, "is Adam Arthur Clive Mayfield, 27 years old, only son of Alfred Mayfair and his late wife Erica, heir of the immense family fortune and the private bank Mayfield & Holmes, that was established by his ancestors more than 200 years ago. He is one of the most eligible bachelors in the United Kingdom, and one of the richest, too. His father officially still runs the family business but he isn't in the best state of health, so in fact Mayfield junior is the one who's at the helm. Unlike his father he's not a man of integrity, he's been on the radar of the British authorities for years. From dealing drugs and other minor crimes in his college years to insider trading, investor fraud, misappropriation and money laundering nowadays. He is a big fish, has connections all over the world, drug rings, gun runners, human traffickers, you name it."

"And the Brits are not able to catch him without my help?" August couldn't help but smirk cockily.

"Don't be so full of yourself, Walker. The problem is, he is a damn genius. IQ score beyond 150, very clever, very cautious, a strategic mastermind, always ahead of the authorities. They tried to infiltrate his business a few times but they failed miserably, so now they want to concentrate on his private life."

"And this is gonna be my part?"

"Exactly," Kyle said, getting up to join Christine in front of the screen. "He has a few bodyguards he always hires from an American agency. They are known for their discretion and loyalty and the bodyguards they place with their clients are the best of the best. Unfortunately one of his bodyguards died in an accident a week ago and now he needs a new one. Luckily, we have the owner of the agency by the balls for several major crimes. He cooperates or he will end up behind bars for the rest of his life."

"To cut a long story short, he will place you with Mayfield and you can become part of his daily life. Your job consists of monitoring and collecting information and data. I will give you an exact briefing later," Christine finished Kyle's explanations.

"So I will just be his lapdog?"

"Not his," Kyle grinned, "hers."

The picture on the screen changed, now showing a young, blonde woman. The second he saw her, he judged her.

He could tell what she was like, just by her looks, by the way she jutted her chin in the picture, by her perfectly manicured fingers, by her flawless make up and the expensive clothes. He knew women like her, a walking stereotype, the blond, beautiful Trophy Wife Barbie that's always by Millionaire Ken's side. Pretty on the outside, boring on the inside. Lame bimbos that only lived for showing off their designer clothes and it-bags, tripping around in high heels that cost more than he earned in a month, finding self-fulfilment in stupid things like designing overpriced furniture, running a yoga studio or doing charity stuff. Useless, needless but still blueprints for millions of girls who would literally give the shirt off their backs to catch themselves a rockstar, a famous actor, a hyped football player or just a rich heir.

"This is Mayfield's fiancee," Kyle said, pointing at the photo, "you're gonna be her personal bodyguard."

"How am I supposed to monitor him, when I have to be on her heels all the time?"

"You're gonna live with them, there will be lots of opportunities. Just make her trust you, we need her to open up, get her to talk. They've been together for years, she should know what he's involved in," Chris explained and she made it sound easy when in fact it wasn't only hard to gain a stranger's trust, in this case it was even dangerous.

"Alright. Tell me about her."

"Her name is Lucretia Johnson, 24 years old," Kyle started reading the memo.

"Lucretia?" August let out an amused snort.

"Yeah," Kyle grinned, "her mother seems to have a preference for strange names, her younger sister's called Petronilla."

"What the fuck?" August laughed out loud. "Is she some kind of Latin professor or something?"

"Well, first of all she's dead," Christine took over with a serious look on her face, she was notorious for her lack of humour, "and secondly, no, she was not a professor. She was an alcoholic and a complete mess. An irresponsible, uncaring mother who spent too much time fucking around and too little time taking care of her daughters. Petronilla was taken away from her when she was 15 and was handed over to youth welfare. Lucretia was 18 at the time and lived on the campus of the Chelsea College of Art and Design."

"So she's an artist, huh?" August knew the ridicule in his voice wasn't very professional but he just couldn't help it.

"Maybe, at least she has a master degree in curating and owns a little gallery in Covent Garden. Well, actually Mayfield owns it, she just runs it."

"So, to sum it up, she's made it from the daughter of a drunkard to the fiancee of one of the richest heirs in the kingdom. She's fucked her way to the top. I guess that's all I need to know about her."

"Don't be so sure, August. She seems to be smart," Kyle threw in, "I think there's more to her than the pretty face. It's just a gut feeling but I guess you'll find out soon enough."

August took a deep breath, rolling his eyes at Kyle. "Sure. She's the saint that sleeps with the devil."

"That's not what I said, mate. But whatever she is, you'll have to deal with it."

"What's my cover, Christine?" August wanted to know.

"Well, your alias was born in 1981, just like you, but on the fifth of May. Born and raised in Portland, Maine. Only child, mother deceased, not on speaking terms with his father, a mechanic who still lives in Portland. You can find the details of your early life and your family tree in the memo," she waved the file above her head before she continued. "Careerwise...ex military, ex cop, had some problems following the rules and respecting the law. Single, no ex-wifes, no kids. We kept it plain and simple. They will not dig deep anyway. According to the agency boss, Mayfield expects his bodyguards to be disciplined, always on duty, quiet and discreet. There's three of you. Benjamin Garner is Mayfield's watchdog and his personal assistant, Edward Landow was Johnson's guard you're gonna replace, Andrew Brown is the back-up. You and Garner live with them, Brown lives nearby with his girlfriend. There's other staff of course, a housekeeper, a cook, cleaners. No chauffeur, no butler, no assistant, that's all part of your job."

"Great," August let out an annoyed snort, "so basically I'm gonna be her servant."

"Basically," Chris fixed her gaze on August, "you're not gonna leave her side unless you're told to. Just be professional, stay in the background, prick up your ears, listen closely and be careful. No obvious nosing around. Their penthouse is a high tech fortress, including video monitoring, so just…"

"I know how to work undercover," August cut in impatiently, "just gimme that fucking file and let me do my job."

Christine gave him a pissed look but she handed him the document with a shrug and without further comment. August grabbed it from her hands, staring at the data of his new life, his new name and the composite sketch of his new look. He would have to stop shaving.

*****

tbc

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker x ofc #slow burn

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Could I have jkn for the valentine's event for nero and v? much appreciated moosh ᕙ(`▽´)ᕗ

Nero

J : JEALOUSY. Is your s/o easy to get jealous in a relationship?

With his fucking insecurities? Most definitely Nero is the jealous type - even when he really doesn't want to be but he just can't help with those insecure thoughts and fear of abandonment about that one day you'll wake up and find someone so much better than him - someone...normal, and he's more than terrified of that possibility becoming true. However at the end of the day his worries are put at slight ease when your arms wrap around his neck and you pepper your sweet kisses across his cheeks that makes his inner demon pure out, he basks in your loving warmth.

What was he thinking? This is you we're talking about, if you're unhappy he knows that if you'll talk to him about it and whatever you wish to do about that he will absolutely respect your choice no matter what. But until or if ever that day comes, he's going to make sure his damndest that you're the happiest person on earth - demons and the demon world be damned.

K : KISS. Is your s/o a good kisser? why / why not?

Kyrie was Nero's first ever relationship and of course his first ever kiss; and since then lots of things have happened like the two of them respectfully breaking off things when they finally had the freedom of discovering themselves after the fall if the order to which both their discoveries led to them both realizing that it wouldn't work between them and that fateful decision eventually leading Kyrie to Nico and Nero to you. So that being said...you're Nero's second ever relationship and oh boy does it show with how awkward the man starts out with trying to express any kind of affection.

When first prepping himself up to go for the romantic approach when kissing you for the first time he actually does a pretty good job with it! He'd walked you home one night after a night out and seen you up to your front door. Doing the little nose rub thing he does when he's flustered telling you how much he enjoyed the night out with you, smiling like an idiot when you giggle and agree that you had fun too. With the nice gentle glow of his devil bringer in your hand he mentally tells himself to just do it, that it shouldn't be that hard - he's already done it a few times before, he's ready to kiss you! So looking into your eyes and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he leans in closer to your face, his cheeks growing hotter and hotter with each passing second and all previous confidence he had quickly tanking until he freezes in place inches away from your lips. Now you're used to seeing Nero red faced, the guy yells a fuck ton and when he gets pissed - he gets fucking PISSED. However seeing, this particular shade on his entire face is...quite hard for you to keep your giggles in at how fucking adorable it is and with a sigh through your nose does your lips meet up with his the rest of the way.

Like expected those first few things are awkward and fumbled on his part but just give him time and he'll quickly find his cocky confidence more and more with each and every kiss until it's you that's the one who's hot faced flustered mess, which to Nero perfectly suits you.

(NSFW letter beneath cut)

N : NAUGHTY. What is your s/o like in bed?

Same logic with K, however with Kyrie he didn't come this far and well sexual education wasn't exactly taught well in the Order so in this field he has absolutely no idea the hell he's doing so you're going to have to be the one to show him the ropes first. Nero is definitely a fast learner when it comes to learning new skills so everything you tell him (I.e where/how to touch, which fingers go where, good starting pace, etc) it takes him no longer than a snap for it to click with him and get you crying out for him in no time at all.

Once he gets enough experience to know fully what he's doing he tends to like things rough and fast, instances he can get so lost in the moment and just...let go. However, of course the youngest Sparda can be definitely sweet and have absolutely no problem if you want to take things gentle for the night, spending up to the very early hours of morning worshiping your lips with the sweetest rock of your swaying hips together your flesh covered all sorts of filth and markings (mostly on you, on Nero his tend to not completely but mostly heal and clear up minutes after your teeth leave his skin) making the sweetest love like it was your last day on earth.

J : JEALOUSY. Is your s/o easy to get jealous in a relationship?

No, not necessarily mostly because of the Vergil in him saying that he doesn't need to, you're your own person and you make your own choices and you chose to be with him because you love and trust one another so there's no need to feel such foolish feelings about 'competition' - because there isn't one. But that won't stop our lovely poet from turning his summons on 'sore losers.' Speaking of summons, Shadow and Griffon since being tied so directly to V are the actual two to get jealous "On goth Shakespeare over there's behalf," ...and oh boy, there has been quite a few guys that have been 'barbequed' and smack talked (or had their car shat on like that one time) via Griffon and/or growled, chased, or almost skewered by Shadow.

K : KISS. Is your s/o a good kisser? why / why not?

Well yes of course, even though he doesn't have that much experience (both as Vergil and his during his own time since being 'born') but he's quite a natural talent when it comes to it. His lips were just made for kissing, being to full and lush, seconds after they meet yours it's just easy to find your mind cutting off and just how time seems to just stop as your head spins, his tongue gently wrestling with yours that you don't even realize he's stopped until he's pulled back with cold metal of his rings flushed against your cheek with a loving smile.

N : NAUGHTY. What is your s/o like in bed?

Given how fragile his body is he can't go too hard without over exhausting himself or potentially hurting himself, however, just because he doesn't have the physical endurance that the rest of the Sparda men have doesn't mean that can't fuck you to the same result; a fucked out satisfied mess.

V is the absolute king when in comes to dirty talk like he uses that voice that you hear in game (ex; "pin em to the wall", "I taking my time", ect.) in bed and it's just 😤👌. All depending on your preferences the things he says can vary; to either the more traditional 'dirty talk' how slutty your hole is just begging for him to go faster with how badly your squeezing around his fingers - to more gentle praises of encouragement such as him telling you how sweet you sound and how good you're doing for him and that you can last just a little longer so both of you can come together as his arms wrap around your waist and his hands clasp your ass as he guides your bounces while you ride him.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

Tagging list

No one for nero and V currently

How to be added the tagging list + additional info

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #nero sparda #nero x reader #v x reader #dmc v #mine #moosh's 2021 valentine's day special #sin content #gender neutral reader

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Note

I loved the typo christmas prompt! could you do a continuation of said date on thursday ? I loved the tension between the mc and levi <3

yuh ;) I was hoping someone would ask.

Summary: Levi always keeps his promises.

Warning: kinda spicy, kissing and some groping, misogynistic terms (playful/consenting) playful dirty banter. Implied sex

Word Count: 2.5 K

You did a small spin. The dress wasn’t modest, but it wasn’t too short either. Your hands ran down the front of the black dress, the silk felt smooth under the pads of your fingers. You were beginning to regret the choice already, but Levi would be here any moment, there was no time to change. You instead began pawing through your closet in search of an appropriate jacket or cardigan to wear over your exposed shoulders. But the sound of the doorbell interrupted your process. You turned on your heel, the kitten heels you wore clicking against the hard wood floors as you walked through your apartment.

Upon opening the front door, you found your boss, wearing a black coat, hands shoved deep into his pockets and snowflakes littering his hair. You stepped aside to allow him in, he nodded curtly to you as he wandered inside.

“You’ll freeze if you go out there dressed...like that.” Levi’s gunmetal eyes scanned your form, your bare legs and arms already prickled with goosebumps. But they weren’t from the cold, they were from the feeling of his piercing eyes on you, scrutinizing you.

“Good thing I didn’t plan to.” You huffed, snatching your half finished glass of wine off the counter to take a healthy chug from it. He raised a brow and hummed in amusement.

“Oh? Then what will you wear?” He asked, adjusting his suit jacket and then his tie. You smiled wryly at him and sighed, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter.

“Hm maybe a chunky sweater with some leggings? Oh or how about a pair of sweats-”

“Just put on a jacket and let’s get out of here. I can’t stand to be in this shit hole another minute.” Levi grunted as he crossed his arms and watched you pointedly as you scowled back at him.

“Patience boss.” You soothed as you opened the closet to pull out a black trench coat, as you tied it around your waist you noticed the way his eyes lingered on your accentuated hips.

“Great now let’s go already.” Levi all but ordered as he turned and retreated back the way he had come. You were barely able to snatch up your wristlet and flick the lights off before loosing him around the corner. You reunited outside of your apartment, the front sidewalk was slick with snow and ice, Levi stood, hand on the passenger door as he waited for you. Once he saw you he opened the door and you slid into the car. He all but slammed the door behind you before quickly rounding the front of the car and slipping into the driver’s seat. He pulled out of the parking space and began to carefully weave his way through the thick evening traffic, despite the weather it was busy downtown.

“Thank you sir....for the extra day off.” You attempted to fill the silence, hands knotting together in your lap as you tried to ease your sudden wave of nerves.

“You’re lucky that you got that last bit of paperwork in.” Levi chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head slightly, causing his bangs to sway over his delicate brow.

“Damn straight I was. Not like I could miss out on a dinner date with New York’s most eligible bachelor.” You teased, leaning on the center counsel so your elbows brushed. He grunted and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“You of all people should know how much I hate being called that.” Levi scolded as he knocked his elbow against yours playfully. You chuckled and placed a hand on his forearm, thumb grazing the inside of his toned arm.

“That’s exactly why I brought it up.” You pointed out as you turned your gaze back onto the snowy road.

“You know I could leave you on the side of the road to walk back to your shitty apartment in that slutty dress.” You gasped at his words and your hand flew to hit his chest. Normally you wouldn’t tolerate anybody calling you a slut or referring to you in any demeaning tone. But for some reason the way he said it made a chill run down your spine.

“E-Excuse me?” You tried to feign offense, but it was poorly disguised. The way your knees seemed to magnetize to one another, hips shifting subtly, grip tightening on his arm. If Levi hadn’t known better, he would have thought that you were asking him for more. So he nodded and allowed the corner of his lip to lift ever so slightly.

“You heard me. It’s less than thirty degrees outside and here you are...barely even wearing anything on a first date with your boss no less.” Your stomach flipped as he pulled his arm away from your grasp, his cold hand falling to your bare knee. His hand slid up until it reached the hem of your silk dress, his fingers toying with the fabric there. Never dipping beneath the dress, much to your displeasure. Your legs relaxed and you naturally opened them, hoping to coax him to venture north.

“Hm so this is why you wore this little dress.” His voice seemed to lower a few octaves as he traced the inside of your thigh with his calloused finger pads.

“Maybe.” You said with a sly smirk, legs spreading a bit wider.

“Fickle little whore.” Levi growled as he pulled his hand away, you pouted at the loss of touch. He pulled up to a valet parking stand, where he climbed out, the valet opened your door for you, and took Levi’s keys with a nod before climbing into his Jaguar and driving off to park the car. Levi’s arm looped around your waist so naturally, matching your stride as the two of you entered the fancy restaurant.

“What’s the name?” The hostess asked, her eyes raking over the two of you.

“Ackerman.” Levi answered curtly, she nodded and motioned for you both to follow her. She led the two of you into the back of the restaurant which was dimly lit and sparsely populated. She motioned to a booth before leaving, Levi slid in one side and you the opposite of him. Your feet brushed against his calves, he said nothing, seemingly invested in the menu. A moment later a waiter approached your table. Levi ordered a bottle of wine and you continued to peruse the menu, the shrimp scampi looked divine. When the waiter brought the wine and asked about what you wanted for dinner, just as you were about to open your mouth and order, Levi spoke up.

“She’ll have the filet mignon, a six ounce. And I will be having the snapper.” Levi said casually, you stared at him incredulously, mouth ajar as the waiter assured him that the food would be out soon. Once he had left you turned to glare at Levi.

“I’m capable of making my own choices sir.” You grunted as you slid your foot away from his leg. Levi scowled back at you, eyes dark and stormy as he watched you lift the wine glass to your rosy lips.

“I’m aware.”

“Does it excite you?” Your question caught him off guard, he was already taken aback by how boldly the evening had begun.

“What? Be more specific.” Levi scoffed as he lifted his own glass.

“You like having me right under your thumb don’t you. Be it at work, or keeping me late in the office so I can’t go out, and now that you have me out...you’re even ordering my meals for me.” You spoke calmly and with a steady tone, Levi felt like spitting his wine out, but he managed to swallow it.

“I’m right aren’t I....Mr.Ackerman.” You smirked knowingly as Levi averted his gaze and fought the blush off of his face.

“Just be grateful that you aren’t stuck in the office going through my papers.” Levi spat as he leaned back into the booth.

“Aw come on now don’t be so bitter, if you had wanted me out to dinner sooner all you had to do was ask.” You chuckled, allowing your legs to stretch once more so that they brushed against his own.

“I mean...when you hired me I couldn’t stop thinking about it....about how handsome you are...” It was your turn to blush once the words left your lips. Levi felt his stomach flip at the admission, he had admired you from afar as well, be it when you made him his tea, staying late with him to finish his projects and go over his paperwork to check for errors. And countless other small acts that made him slowly open up his heart to you.

“Is that so?” Levi asked with a wry smirk curling onto his lips, your face grew redder as you watched him grin smugly. “Yes...it’s true.” You scowled, not a fan of this humiliation, but then again the churning in your stomach and the shiver running down your spine suggested otherwise. Levi simply nodded, pleased with the response you’d offered and steered the conversation back to a more tame topic. This did nothing to comfort the uneasiness in your gut, instead it heightened the anticipation, listening to him complain about orders from Erwin and how annoying Hange was. You both got your food and ate it in near silence, your knee began to unconsciously bounce due to your nerves. You glanced at one of the clocks to find that it was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, it would be christmas in less than two hours. “So Levi... how old will you be this year?” You attempted to engage in conversation once more. Levi clicked his tongue and set his knife and fork aside, having finished the last of his meal. “Take a guess.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, the fabric of his jacket and undershirt clinging to his muscles. “Hm...I know that you’re at least five years older than me...so maybe thirty?” You leaned forward, pushing your plate aside and resting your chin on your folded hands. Levi chuckles and leans forwards as well, so close in fact you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the smell of wine lingering on his lips. “No.” He said simply, grey eyes dancing with amusement, you scowled and dropped your hand, palms down on the table. Levi mirrored you, his own hand merely inches away from yours, his pinky brushing against yours. “Hm maybe...28 then?” You continued to guess, giving him a hopeful wide eyes stare. “No...older.” “Older!” You couldn’t keep the surprise from your voice, Levi finally linked his pinky with your own as he continued to let you stew on his age. “Maybe 32?” “Older.” “35?!” “Bingo.” Levi engulfed your hand with his own once you guess his age correctly, thumb caressing your knuckle as you gaped at him. “What’s your secret?! I mean you look amazing!” “It’s not like I’m eighty idiot…” Levi scoffed as he gave the waiter a side eye as he placed the bill on the table. “Yeah but you...look so young!” you were shocked, you had no clue he was nearly ten years your senior, having thought all this time that he was a mere three years older than you. “Does this change the way you feel for me?” He inquired, unlacing his hand from yours to sign the receipt. “No...not at all.” You assured him as he placed a large bill on the table, more than enough to cover the bill and tip. “Good.” Levi quipped as he slid from the booth, you followed after him, back out to the front of the restaurant, while you waited for his car he slid an arm around your waist. “Up for some wine?” He asked as the car pulled up to the curb. “Sure. Among other things.” You said coyly as he held the door open for you, ever the gentleman. One of the many reasons that you liked older men was because of how mature they were. How experienced they were, patient and tireless. Levi nodded slowly in understanding as he closed the door and rounded to the drivers side. “We can certainly make that happen.” Levi said, reaching across the council to resume his position, his calloused hand on your knee. “I look forward to it.” You rested your hand over his, enjoying the warmth of his skin as you drove. Instead of driving back towards your apartment, he turned down a road that you knew led to his apartment. You had only gone to his apartment a handful of times, once to bring him papers when he had missed a day due to illness, and once more to pick him up when his car battery had died. “I feel so honored.” You quipped as he led you up the stairs of the parking garage. Levi scoffed and placed a hand on the small of your back as the two of you climbed the stairs. “Here.” He said, stopping in front of a door with a simple mat that said “Welcome to the shit show” in loopy writing. You let out a bark of laughter, knowing that Hange had most likely purchased the mat for him. “Cute.” You commented as you wiped your shoes dramatically on the mat. He scoffed and waved you inside. Once you were in you found the familiar layout, the living room, with classy black leather couches and a coffee table, the kitchen was spotless and the dining room table was clean as expected, the apartment almost looked more like an ikea showroom. As if it was hardly inhabited. Levi shrugged off his coat and then took yours to hang in the closet before wandering into the kitchen. You followed like a lost puppy, watching him pour two glasses of red wine before leading you to the couch. He handed you your glass and you took a swig, his hand fell to your knee once more. This time you angled your legs to knock against his own, his hand slid up and under your dress. The clock on the wall chimed, less than an hour away from midnight, and you knew what you wanted to be doing when the clock struck twelve. “So birthday boy...now that you have me here what will you do?” You inquired playfully as his hand met your underwear. He swallowed thickly, eyes lidded as you leaned in, breath fanning over his lips. He licked his lips, tongue darting out and tempting you to come closer. “Cause...I have a few ideas.” You whispered, lips touching his as you spoke. He groaned and leaned in, pressing his mouth over yours. You giggled and returned his kiss, eager to please. You hoped that your efforts tonight would be enough to convince him to give the office Christmas eve off in the future. As it turned out, your efforts did not go unrewarded. The next few years the office got Christmas eve off as well as Christmas day, and you and Levi continued the new found tradition of dinner, you always wore a skimpy dress, and he always teased you about it. But over the years instead of you wandering back to your apartment, you just ended up staying at his place. After one year you had successfully wormed your way into his apartment, as well as his heart.

Uh yeah so..... anyway.

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

solider girl ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1382

request?: yes!

“colson and reader in a Halloween party. Colson gets turned on by reader’s costume... smut and fluff please”

description: in which she’s unable to find a more “covering” costume, but her boyfriend isn’t complaining

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

“Goddammit!”

Colson looked towards the bathroom where his girlfriend was preparing for the Halloween party the two of them were going to. “What’s wrong honey?”

(Y/N) came from the bathroom and Colson’s jaw dropped.

The two had decided to do matching costumes, Colson deciding on cool army costumes he had found and ordered online. Colson’s was a regular fit, slightly baggy but nothing too big. (Y/N)’s, however, was anything but regular fit.

It was a one piece with shorts instead of long pants, a very low cut top, and it was very, very tight.

“What the fuck?!” (Y/N) snapped. “I can’t believe this, yours is fine! Why does mine have to be slutty? Just because it’s a woman’s costume?”

Colson’s eyes raked over (Y/N)’s body slowly, taking in every detail of her. He wanted nothing more than to take (Y/N) right then and there and miss the party entirely.

Noticing his distraction, (Y/N) snapped her fingers in front of Colson’s face. “Colson? Babe?”

“Sorry,” Colson said, snapping out of his trance. “I just...I like the costume a lot.”

(Y/N) smirked as she realized what Colson was saying. “Well...if you like it I suppose I could wear it. I do have a good pair of boots I could wear with it.”

(Y/N) made a show of checking herself out, making sure to give Colson a good show. Colson had to shuffle to hide the growing bulge in his pants. (Y/N) smirked triumphantly to herself as she kissed his cheek and went to finish getting ready.

~~~~~~

Colson could not take his eyes off of (Y/N) all night. She kept making sure he had a lot to look at. He could barley keep his hands to himself, not that he was even trying to contain himself.

(Y/N) gasped as Colson squeezed her ass in front of their friends. She hit his chest softly and lowered her voice to said, “Babe! Stop that!”

“It’s your fault that you look this good,” Colson whispered in her ear, his low voice sending chills down her spine.

“Maybe I’ll go cover up then,” she responded.

Colson raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t you dare. I like looking at you.”

(Y/N) seductively put the straw for the drink in her mouth and took a mouthful. Colson had to down his own drink to mask the red that was crossing his face. (Y/N) knew far too well how to tease him, and he was sure that he would not make it through this party at the rate she was going.

The night continued on and so did the teasing. (Y/N) felt a small sense of pride in the way she was making Colson feel. She had been pretty bummed over her costume being a “sexy army” costume, but the look on Colson’s face every time he laid his eyes on her made up for everything.

The party was starting to die down and everyone was either leaving or were passing out. (Y/N) was making her way to the bathroom when she felt someone take hold of her arm and drag her the rest of the way there. At first the action startled her, but when she felt the familiar warmth of Colson’s lips on her she relaxed.

Colson’s hands roamed her body, feeling every inch of her over her skintight suit. He pushed her away long enough to unzip the costume, slowly down the front as to tease her the way she teased him. When the costume fell to the floor, Colson looked at (Y/N)’s bare body with wide eyes.

“No underwear?” he questioned.

“You would’ve been able to see the lines through the costume,” (Y/N) shrugged. “I thought it’d be better for me this way.”

“It’s certainly better for me,” Colson muttered before touching his lips to hers again.

He took her in his arms and lifted her up onto the bathroom sink. She shivered as her bare ass touched the cold sink, but was soon warmed by the trail of kisses that Colson was leaving. They started at her neck and slowly made their way down to her breasts, where Colson took extra care to kiss and lick around the nipple.

(Y/N)’s head lulled back as his kissing neared her core, the wait becoming long and excruciating as he took his time to kiss over her thighs. When his lips pressed against her clit she gasped before letting out a long moan in pleasure. It wasn’t the first time (Y/N) and Colson had decided to have sex in a public place, and normally they tried their hardest to keep quiet as to not be caught, but they both knew that anyone who was left in the house was either drunk or passed out, so no one would really mind.

Colson licked long, broad strokes against her clit, causing (Y/N) to squirm and writhe in pleasure. Colson had to take hold of her thighs and keep her from slipping off of the counter top.

(Y/N)’s nails dug into the counter as her head lulled backwards. Her entire body felt warm from the mixture of alcohol and pleasure. She gripped Colson’s hair in her fist, trying to stutter out something.

“F-Fuck C-Colson,” she managed through her staggered breathing, gasping as Colson sent another shockwave of pleasure through her.

As she felt the familiar pressure build up in her stomach, Colson pulled away, causing (Y/N) to whimper at the loss of contact. In one swift movement, Colson unzipped his own costume and pulled it down, along with his boxers, leaving him bare as well. He wasted no time in lining himself up with (Y/N)’s entrance and pushing, filling her almost immediately.

(Y/N) let out a moan before pressing her lips against every inch of Colson’s skin that she could reach, the only way she’d be able to even slightly stifle the moans coming from her mouth. Muffled whimpers escaped her lips as Colson began to roughly thrust into her.

He held her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and guiding her hips to meet his thrusts. He always knew how to make her feel good, how to hit all the right spots.

“Fuck,” Colson grunted, his lips against her forehead. His body was starting to glisten with sweat, but somehow it made him look 100 times hotter. “God, I’m so close.”

(Y/N)’s lips found their way to Colson’s ear as she whispered, “Cum in me, baby” before nibbling on his earlobe.

With that, Colson was sent over the edge. His hips thrusted one more time before (Y/N) felt the warmth of him filling her. The feeling of his cock pulsating inside of her caused her to hit her climax as well. She buried her head in Colson’s shoulder to try and muffle her moans.

The two stayed tangled up together for some time, neither wanting to part from the other. It wasn’t until someone tried to turn the locked doorknob, followed by a pounding on the door and a voice calling, “Hey, anyone in there?” that they forced themselves apart.

“Yeah man, be out in a second!” Colson called as he began to pull his costume back on.

“No rush dude, I’ll go to the other bathroom.”

“That’s lucky,” (Y/N) commented. “I’d die of embarrassment if we had to face someone after what we just did.”

“It’s a house party, it happens,” Colson responded with a shrug. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll have a hard time hiding what we did without any panties on. Unless you’re planning on doing a thorough clean before you walk out of the bathroom.”

His comment confused her for a moment before her eyes widened. “Shit! We are making a fucking beeline for the door. Can I have your coat to wrap around me in the cab?”

Colson smiled and cupped (Y/N)’s face in his hands. He kissed her forehead again before placing a sweeter kiss on her lips. “You look amazing in that costume.”

(Y/N) giggled and kissed him back. “Thank you. I guess I’ll have to keep it for the future now, won’t I?”

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