I am too tired to do it myself right now, but can someone write a fic Where reader has chronic illnesses/pain? Because I am really going through it right now and need comfort
I am too tired to do it myself right now, but can someone write a fic Where reader has chronic illnesses/pain? Because I am really going through it right now and need comfort
title: frfrblackwidowgf’s tiktok drafts
notes: sfw, suggestive content though, fluff, being in a stupid goofy mood with ur superhero gf who is also ur dom gf who’s so sick of ur shit, the mommy sorry tiktok meme (yes this is very targeted)
You pout, bringing your phone around the door frame so Nat can see your expression. “I’m already recording.”
“Well, stop.” Nat’s shirtless. Sweatpants on. But shirtless.
You hit your phone’s off button with the force of a devastating hurricane, heat rushing to your face.
Nat hears the click, knows instinctively you’re flustered, and doesn’t even turn around when she laughs at you. “That’s what I thought.”
You huff. “You’re going to film a TikTok with me, I swear.”
“I don’t think I’m even allow-”
“Oh, can it,” you reply, turning on your heel, “you’ve been on national TV like every other week. One TikTok isn’t going to hurt.”
“You’re just using me for clout!” she calls after you.
You grab a shirt off your bedroom floor and return to the kitchen to toss it at her head. “I sure am, baby.”
Nat catches it and slips it on. Perfect, her arms are open, so you slip right in. She circles your waist and captures your mouth in a soft kiss. Before she can introduce tongue, however, you pull away and shove your phone in her face.
“Jesus,” she says, blowing a strand of hair out her face after she rears back in surprise.
“I won’t make you do a skit,” you tell her, insistent. “I won’t even make you dance!”
“Gee, thanks.” Nat gives your middle a squeeze. “But no.”
You reposition so you’re side by side, starting up the audio anyway. “Come on. If you don’t like it, I won’t post it.”
“This one’s for all the mean cunts and assholes,” begins the automated voice. Your lips wobble as you attempt to suppress a smile.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” she deadpans, leaning her head on your shoulder as she squints at the screen, reading the captions.
“Shush and put your hands up.”
“Okay, bad cop-”
Nat rolls her eyes.
“Okay. Put a finger down: toxic bitch edition.”
Nat lifts an eyebrow and shoots you an unimpressed look you summarily ignore. She extricates her arm from your waist and raises her hands up.
“Put a finger down if you’ve looked up your partner’s location without telling them.”
Nat side-eyes you. Her thumb bends to her palm. You snort, muttering a “typical” under your breath.
“I’m literally an Aven-”
Nat rolls her eyes yet again. You’re surprised they aren’t permanently fixed on her brain at this point. Just as she opens her mouth to tell you off, the audio goes: “Put nine fingers down if you used to be a Russian child assassin.”
You’re leaping away already, punting over the living room couch with a cackle, as Nat grabs at you.
She’s stooped low as if on the prowl, eying you from the other side of the couch. “You,” she says in a near growl, teeth grit, “are so annoying.”
You just laugh, dancing around the arm as she rounds the other side. “Ooh, what are you going to do about it?”
“Literally make you cry.” She does a parkour move over the couch, but you’re prepared for that, already jumping behind the armchair with a bark of laughter. “Baby, if you get over my knee in the next ten seconds, I won’t use the crop.”
“With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride,” you sing, offkey just to irritate her further.
“Ten.” She swipes for you. You book it down the hallway, slamming the door behind you as she chases after you.
“You’re toxic,” you screech, “I’m slippin’ under!”
The door bangs off the wall, and she bowls into you, tackling you into the wall of the hallway.
“With a—whew, out of breath—taste of a-”
She slaps her hand over your mouth. “You think you’re so funny.” You lick her palm, but then she moves her hand like she’s smearing something on your face and hooks her thumb under your jaw to force it shut so your teeth cut into your tongue painfully. You wince. “You’re getting the hairbrush.”
She heaves you up by your midsection, letting you kick your legs out and whine just to put up a show of a struggle, and into your bedroom you go.
Clint sends you laugh emojis. There’s a keysmash from Wanda. Carol types and stops and types and stops three different times. Nat tells her not to say a word.
The video ends with Nat’s perfect gymnastic move over the couch, camera shaky and audio scuffed by your shriek of delight.
Your ass hurts.
“Nat?” you say, leaning over to put your phone on the dashboard.
Your girlfriend starts the car with one hand and uses the other to tip your phone screen down. You’re on your way to buy groceries.
“Come on,” you grumble, fixing your phone. “I promise not to send it to the group chat.”
Nat scoffs. “You said that last time.”
“No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t post it.”
Nat pulls onto the main road. Silent. Unwilling to concede to that point.
You pat her thigh, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be grumpy.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she replies.
“Whatever.” You pull up a video. “You just have to react to them.”
“Them? Plural?” Nat shakes her head. “Also, I’m driving.”
“There’s a red light coming up. It won’t be long.”
“Ugh, fine.” The car pulls to a stop right on cue, and she slips her sunnies onto her forehead, turning towards your phone to watch.
Shirtless men walking in a line, captioned: what would you do if we broke into your house.
Nat watches, face unreadable. Then, without a single word, she opens the glove box and pulls a gun out. You reach for her hand to push it down, but you’re also unwilling to actually touch the firearm, so you jerk away, all the while sputtering like an idiot.
She tosses the gun to her other hand so her right hand can open the compartment between your seats: another gun.
“What the fuck?” You move for your phone, but she uses her forearm to block your movement. “You’re insane.”
She hums, puts the gun barrel down in the cupholder, and pulls a butterfly knife from the same compartment.
The light turns green. Smoothly, Nat puts her gun hand on the wheel and sticks the blade between her teeth. Puts the car in drive. Her spare hand, she uses to reach under her chair and straightens up, dangling a garrotte off her finger in front of the camera.
She smirks. “You asked.”
You do not post that video. As promised, you don’t send it to the group chat either.
It makes you giggle, though. One of your favourites for when Nat’s away, and you’re left with hundreds of drafted TikToks consisting of you goofing off with her. The ease of her motions puts you at ease. It reminds you that she’s capable and driven, and her confidence is reassuring.
You tiptoe towards the lump under the blankets, phone pointed at it.
“No,” comes a sleepy groan. “Do not bother me.”
You grab the blankets by her ankles, making sure to be out of her reach so she can’t immediately get you to fuck off, and you yank. Nat flops onto her back, eyes shut, and she lets out a longsuffering sigh.
“Excuse me, mommy?”
Nat opens her eyes to shoot you a flat look.
“Sorry,” you say, blatantly amused. Nat snorts and sits up, rubbing at her face as she yawns. “Mommy? I mean, mommy? Sorry. Mommy?”
“I’ll make you sorry,” she mumbles as she stretches.
“Ooh, scary,” you tease, thrusting the camera closer to her face. “Mommy-”
She twists your arm away by the wrist, yanking you onto her and dumping her face in your neck as you squeal and shake with laughter.
“Well?” she says into your skin. “Finish your thought.”
You prop yourself on an arm, bringing the phone back in between you. “Sorry,” you say with a big stupid grin on your face.
Nat pats your cheek. “Are you done, baby?”
“Yeah, mommy- I mean-”
Your words are choked off, literally. Nat has you by the throat, flipping your bodies over, so she has you pinned into the mattress. Your grip on the phone loosens as you whine and cling onto her.
She gives you a cocky smile as she plucks it out of your hand and very deliberately drops it on the floor-
That particular video ends with lots of curses and, indeed, several apologies.
Under Nat’s watchful gaze, you save it to your camera roll and delete it from TikTok.
She lets out an approving hum and sets a glass of water on the nearest nightstand, her hand giving the back of your bruised neck a quick pinch, and finally removes her imposing presence from behind you.
“Good girl,” she says, clearly teasing you.
You drag the blanket over your face.
No one’s POV...
The doors of the lift opened and Loki saw many masked people run around, ordering, pushing, inspecting, experimenting, you name it ! They had all their hands full of work. Loki's eyes were as wide as plates. It was a big ass room and there were so many people ! Probably 200...
"Loki !! Keep up !", Dexter yelled at him from a little further away.
Loki shook his head and stormed to Dexter's side.
"How many are here ?", Loki asked him in awe.
"Well...working in this section...400 people. The people who are right now here working...210. Usually it is not so full here, but I gave them many tasks and that is why today there are so many. Do not worry tho, they still get their breaks like everyone else. I am still fair. At night the other 190 people work. This section here, never sleeps."
Loki's mouth fell open.
"Why ? Why does it never sleep ?"
"Well...We have always stuff for them to do down here. If we would give them a break for a few days, it would be too much for them in the end and also they would need to shut everything down...which is fast but the turning on at everything, is taking hours. It would be a waste of time."
Loki nodded in understanding. He followed Dexter through everything and then saw a weapon, he held Dexters arm and he stopped. Dexter looked at Loki.
"What is it ?"
"What is this for ?", Loki asked pointing at the weapon.
"Oh this...It was a failed prototype. Nothing to worry about. Tomorrow it shall be destroyed."
"What was its planned purpose ?"
"Destroying a whole HYDRA base, without killing the tortured children. It didn't kill the children, it was tested on one, and it destroyed a base, but if more children got hit with that beam, it melted their body's together. It was tested on two mice...Since then we abandoned that project. It was too risky to continue."
Loki gulped. They continued to walk.
"Boss !! Boss !!", someone called in a white doctor robe.
That person came running to them with a few papers.
"Maker...What is it ?", Dexter said.
Maker stopped, held his knees and huffed.
"I have very bad news..."
"May be ?"
"The weapon 20 8 1 14 15 19 is not working like it should. Something is either missing or it got sabotaged. We were sure that we built a blue and green wire with a black and red one inside the weapon, but green and blue are missing and we can not find them anywhere."
(20 8 1 14 15 19 is a little puzzle for you to solve, I bet you can find it out. Put it into the comments and let me know what you think the numbers mean !)
Dexter went stiff.
"Dexter...what is weapon 20 8 1 14 15 19 ?", Loki asked confused.
Dexter ignored him.
"I will get you new ones. And you are to 100% sure that you actually built them inside already ?"
"Yes we were. They were in no other weapon built and in our storage room was no trace of them too. Someone must have taken them."
"....Thank you Maker. I will take care of that...problem.", Dexter said in a monotone.
"What shall we do the meantime ? Without those wires, we can not continue, Boss. The weapon itself is more than very stable, we checked 100 times, always the same results."
"Take the rest of the day off. Either you help the others or you go and do as you please with the others, but always have your eyes open. For now there is a code yellow."
Maker nodded and ran back to his station. Loki looked at Dexter confused.
"Code yellow ? Weapon 20 8 1 14 15 19 ? What is all that, Dexter ?", Loki asked a little scared.
He turned around and looked at Loki.
"Did you steal anything from down here ?", Dexter asked coldly.
Loki widened his eyes in shock and shook his head fastly.
"No. When should I have had the time for that. LION was always with me and you and the others. I didn't do anything. I swear ! Please believe me !", Loki begged with tears briming his eyes.
Dexter looked stone dead into Loki's eyes, searching for any kind of lie. It was hard to tell, if Loki was scared because he did indeed steal anything, or because of something else. The tears were unimportant right now, Loki was an actor. Suddenly his earpiece sent a voice through, Fox.
"Dexter ? Boss, Rat just left the property. Did he get any permission for that ?"
"He didn't...Follow him and stalk him out. I want answers."
"Why ? What happened ?"
"Two wires from weapon 20 8 1 14 15 19 just got stolen. A green and a blue one. It was already inside it, it got sabotaged and I was just thinking that Loki did anything, without knowing that it was bad."
"I saw in Rat's hand something green, and black...I think it was a hair of Loki..."
"......GET HIM BACK HERE IMMEDIATELY !!!", Dexter yelled through the whole room.
Dexter's voice sounded inhuman, angered and cold. Like death itself. Everyone stopped working and looked at Dexter in shock. Loki flinched and hid under a table, having big eyes of fear.
"I will do my best, Boss. Over.", Fox answered calmly.
With that Fox was gone. Loki was terrified.
'Will he throw me out ? Will he kill me ? What did I do ? Does he think that I snooped around and stole ? Please don't throw me out...I didn't do anything this time...'
Dexter looked around and realized that Loki was gone. He became worried.
"Loki ?! Loki where are you ?!"
No answer. Loki was too scared to answer. Dexter could smell Loki's fear. He followed the scent and found him, hiding under a table like a little kid. He must have scared him to death with his voice....
Dexter crouched down and looked at Loki, who looked at him with big eyes of fear.
"Loki...come here boy.", Dexter said softly.
Loki shook his head and stayed there, hugging his knees even tighter.
"Loki I didn't mean to scare you. I am sorry."
"Please don't throw me out...I swear I didn't do anything....I swear...", Loki mumbled, not looking at Dexter.
"Nobody plans to throw you out, love. I am sorry that I thought that you had done it. Fox is already repairing it."
Loki looked at Dexter and slowly crawled out from under the table.
"Who is he after ? Will Fox be okay ?", Loki asked worried.
"He will be fine. He is after Rat. Say...were you ever near a masked person named Rat ? He has this mask."
Dexter showed Loki a mask of a mouse head, just a little bigger. Loki nodded slowly.
"Yes. He talked with me yesterday. Why ?"
"Loki...Rat took one of your lose hair with himself...do you know what he could do with just that simple hair alone ?"
Loki shook his head.
"He can experiment on it. Find out what, who and how you are. He can see your DNA. He can clone you. He can absorb that little bit of magic it has. He can find out everything about you, by just a little strand of hair. He flew off with it and we believe that he stole the wires. My thought is...that he is working for HYDRA...Fox will bring him back and then I will get my informations. I want you to not be around then. You will stay with Ice cube and with either Fox or Icebird. You don't need to see what I will do with him."
"Kill him in the most brutal way ?"
"No. Worse, Loki. Something that can give you nightmares for years, so do not try anything funny just to peak and see what I will do. Stay with them and do not wander around without them near you. Code yellow was a warning to suspect a spy here. Anything weird that should not be weird gets noted and send to me. Now it is code blood red. Blood red means the worst. A traitor and I will torture him until he will spill."
"And weapon 20 8 1 14 15 19 ?"
"That is a secret. Top secret."
With that Dexter and Loki went back to the lift and to Dexter's room.
Masterlist HERE !
Imagine: teasing Peter Pevensie into doing a trick on Halloween 🎃
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia
Requested by @winterxisxcomingx [x]
You're walking down the street, alongside Peter. Since it's the end of October, it gets colder and darker with every minute, even though it's not that late.
'It's quite amusing to see the children go around in disguises. It must be fun,' he remarks when another group of ghosts runs past you, laughing out loud.
'Have you heard? In America they call it trick-or-treating. My aunt told me in a letter.'
'Trick-or-treating? What does it mean?'
It rarely happens that there's something you know about but Peter doesn't. He always has so many stories to tell you, either about our world or the magical world called Narnia he once opened up about. Glad that this time you have something to share and he can just listen, you explain:
'It means that on the last day of October children dress up and go from house to house and ask for treats, but if they don't get a treat, they do a trick on the houseowner.' After a short pause, you add: 'Do you think you could do a trick on someone?'
'What?' he asks. 'What kind of trick?'
You take an egg (that you accidentally happened to have on you) out of your pocket and show it to him, saying:
'You could break this on somebody's door.'
'No... no, no, no,' Peter tells you, shaking his head. 'There's no way I'm going to do that.'
'Why? You told me so many times you used to be a king, you fought battles. Are you now afraid of an innocent trick?'
Still a bit hesitant, he takes the egg from your hand and walks on the porch of the nearest house. He knocks on the door; once they open, he smashes the egg on the door's frame and quickly runs away, grabbing your hand on the go.
'Tell me, what's exactly the purpose of this?' Peter asks you when you're far enough.
'I don't know, but it's fun, isn't it?' you respond with laughter.
Plus Two: A Pepperony Fanfic
MASTERLIST PREVIOUS //
Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2132
Pairing: Pepper Potts x Tony Stark x F!Reader
Warnings: Smut (MF, phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mild comeplay)
Synopsis: Tony Stark- Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, Pepper Potts, his long-serving and overworked assistant, and you, their on-again/off-again girlfriend and lead singer of the hit band, Arctic Fire. Three very different people navigate a world of fame, addiction, betrayal, and superheroes, while they move from having a plus one to a plus two.
“There’s a review about us in here.”
Mark unceremoniously dropped a magazine in your lap. You’d been playing Pokemon Blue on your Gameboy as the tour bus wound its way up the California coast. Your next stop was San Francisco and then you were going on to Portland. The tour you had booked was relatively low-key venues, but they were dotted all over the map. You would be on the road for months and you hoped you might get some decent songwriting done in that time.
It wasn’t off to a good start.
“You looked up at the drummer as he flopped down on the chair opposite you. “Is it good?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And it’s Rolling Stone, so I think it’ll be a good boost.”
“Wait, what? Why didn’t Eric tell us about this? Or Holly?” you asked, grabbing the magazine and flipping it over.
“You got me,” he said, with a shrug.
You went to flip through the magazine but the cover stopped you dead in your tracks. On the cover, beside the title ‘Tony Stark wants to save the world’, was a picture of the guy you had fucked backstage at your last gig.
You stared at it in shock for a moment. You’d had a one-night stand with one of the richest men on the planet and you had had no idea who it was.
You started laughing at the irony that you had expected him to recognize you.
“What’s so funny?” Mark asked.
You turned the magazine cover to face him. “That’s the guy I bought backstage!”
“What?” he asked, snatching it from you. He held the magazine up to his face like he was studying the photo closely. “Holy shit! It is! I didn’t recognize him in the dark. You fucked him right?”
“I did!” you said, falling back on the chair laughing. “I seriously can’t believe I didn’t recognize him.”
“Well, to be fair, what’s he to you? Some weapons manufacturer? It’s not like you have a lot to do with weapons manufacturing,” he said with a shrug.
“Still, this is so weird,” you said, snatching the magazine back from him.
“What are you two making so much noise for?” a rather hungover-looking Cassie said as she emerged from the back of the bus where the bunks were.
“Our illustrious lead-singer went and boned an actual billionaire,” Mark teased.
Cassie blinked at you. “You did what now?”
You held up the magazine to show her. “That’s the guy from the other night.”
She took it off you and her eyes went wide. “Oh my god. And you fucked him?”
“Yes!” you said. “Yes, I fucked him. I fucked Tony Stark and I had no idea.”
She burst into laughter and then quickly grabbed her head. “Ow,” she complained. “Someone make me a Bloody Mary.”
You laughed and got up, going to the little kitchenette as Cassie took your seat and looked at the magazine. “You should call him,” she said.
“What for?” you asked as you started making her drink.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s Tony Stark. You fucked a guy on the Forbes rich list. You should at least tell him you know.”
You snorted. “Just like … hey Mister Stark, I know what you did.”
“Exactly,” she said.
“The guy’s a playboy,” you said. “I’m one pussy in a procession of many pussies. Mine isn’t even the most famous pussy. He fucks supermodels and Oscar nominees. Like he’s gonna give a single shit that I was one of them.”
“Hey now,” Cassie scolded. “I’m sure you have a very nice and memorable pussy.”
“Gee thanks, Cass,” you said, bringing her the cocktail you made.
She took it and took a long drink and then sighed happily. “I dare you to call him.”
“How? Like I’d even get through,” you said.
“Give yourself some credit,” Mark said. “You’re the lead singer of Arctic Fire. That’d at least get you to the point of telling him you called.”
“Call him, call him, call him,” Cassie started chanting. When Mark joined in you threw up your hands in defeat. “Fine. I will try and call him. But I doubt I even get past reception.”
You went to the back of the bus and lay down on your bunk.
You ended up on the phone for quite a while and you began worrying about your phone bill. The minutes were definitely adding up. You called directory assistance first, asking to be put through to the corporate office of Stark Industries. When you got through to reception you started to lie. Not about who you were, but about why you were calling. You told some story about your song being misappropriated and how you were going to seek legal action and needing to speak to the top.
You’d been transferred six times by the time Tony’s familiar voice came down the line.
“Figured out who I am, did you?”
You could hear the amusement in his voice and it immediately made you relax.
“I did, you naughty boy,” you teased. “And I want to make it clear, this call was a dare.”
“What?” Tony said, clearly faking shock. “You mean you don’t plan to sue me for misappropriating your music? And what ad was that song used in again?”
“Oh you know, the generic ‘Stark Industries is or friend’ ad,” you said.
“Right, that one,” he chuckled. “I do love that ad.”
“Not me, you stole my song.”
Tony broke out in laughter. “So what can I do for you?”
“Nothing really,” you said. “I was just handed a copy of Rolling Stone because a review of our album is in it and who do I see on the cover, but that random dude who gave me an orgasm.”
“If my memory serves me correctly, it was multiple orgasms,” he corrected.
“That’s right,” you hummed. “Multiple orgasms. And then my lovely bandmates dared me to call you. I said to them I had no particular reason to call you, but a dare’s a dare.”
“A dare is a dare,” he agreed. “Where are you right now?”
“In bed,” you said.
“Oh really?” he teased. “Need some company?”
“As much as I’d love some company, the bed in question is a bunk in the back of a bus full of people,” you explained, stretching out a little. “We’re on tour. Might be a while before I head back your way.”
“That’s a shame,” he said. “Where’s the next show?”
“San Francisco. Then Portland, Seattle, etcetera, etcetera,” you said.
“That’s really great,” he replied, sounding genuinely proud of you. It was odd coming from a stranger, but nice. “You’re a big deal. I was listening to the CD. I really like it.”
“Told you, you would,” you teased.
“Is this your number?” he asked.
“Yeah, it is. How come?”
There was a pause and you could hear tapping in the background. “Just thought I might call you again.”
“‘Cause I’m easy?” you teased.
He laughed. “Oh yeah. I have a lot of trouble getting laid normally.”
This time you laughed. “It’s weird that I called you, right?”
“Totally weird,” he agreed. “But mostly because normally when people call me they want something. Another date, for me to invest in something. Not because it’s a dare.”
“You want me to ask for something so it’s less weird?” you joked. He laughed and you rolled over onto your side. “So what are you doing right now?”
“Well, I did have a board meeting to go to, but then this huge legal matter came up and I absolutely had to take the call right now.”
You broke down into giggles. “No… Seriously?”
“I’m so sorry,” you said, still laughing.
“You don’t sound very sorry,” he teased.
“Maybe I’m just a little sorry.” You let out a breath. “So you’re just alone in the office dealing with a legal matter? No one around at all.”
“Nope, just me and my big desk,” he said.
“A big desk, huh?” you said. “I bet that it’s nice and solid.”
“Oh, it is. Big and solid. Can take a real pounding.”
You started laughing again. “We are talking about your desk, right?”
“Do you want it to just be my desk?”
You bit your bottom lip and pulled your blanket over you. “I can’t date, Tony. That’s not why I called.”
“I know, dear,” he said. “You were dared. And I don’t date. Ever.”
“So … what then?”
“So, put your hand into your pants and touch yourself,” he growled.
You took in a shuddering breath and slipped your free hand into your pants. Your fingers slipped between your folds and you began to circle your clit.
“Are you doing it?” Tony asked.
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Do you remember what my hands felt like?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm… they were rough. Calloused.”
“Think about them touching you while you touch yourself,” he growled. “Running over your skin, sliding between your legs.”
You moaned softly, as his words drew out your arousal. “Are you touching yourself, Tony?” you whispered.
“Yes,” Tony groaned. “My dick is really hard right now.”
“In your office?”
He chuckled. “Yes, honey.”
“If someone came in to find you, would they see?” you asked.
“Only if they came around the side of the desk,” he said. His voice was getting gravelly. “What about you? If someone came back there would they see you?”
“I haven’t closed the curtain, but I have a blanket on,” you hummed. “I don’t think they’d see, but they’d know what I was doing.”
“That’s hot,” Tony said. “You like people knowing, don’t you? You weren’t exactly quiet in that dressing room.”
“Mm-hmm…” you hummed. “I like the idea of getting caught.”
“Me too,” he said. “If I had you here you’d be under the desk while I pretended to do work.”
“Oh, really? Maybe I’d have you under the desk while I wasn’t faking anything at all,” you growled, your fingers speeding up faster. Pleasure coiled through you, and your clit had begun to twitch under your touch.
He groaned and his breathing became heavier. “I think I’d like that,” he said. “How wet are you?”
“Soaking, Tony,” you moaned. “I’m soaking for you.”
“Push your fingers inside yourself,” he said.
You complied, your breath catching as your fingers sunk into the heat of your cunt.
“Now, do me a favor,” he growled. “Taste yourself for me.”
“Okay,” you said. “But only if when you come, you taste yourself for me.”
He groaned and for a moment all you could hear was his heavy breathing. “Okay.”
You pulled your fingers from your cunt and stuck them in your mouth, moaning as the tart fluid coated your tongue. Tony groaned at the wet sound of your fingers being pulled from your mouth.
“Tell me what you taste like,” Tony said.
You began to finger yourself again and let out a shuddering breath. “Tart, salty, a little sweet.”
He hummed. “I’m getting close here.”
“Me too, Tony,” you whispered. “I want to come.”
“I want to hear it,” he said. “Make yourself come for me, honey. Think of me fucking you while you do. I want to hear you moan my name.”
You kept moving your fingers, working your clit the way you liked best while thinking of watching Tony’s face in the mirror as he fucked you from behind. Your orgasm started in your toes, and wound through you, making your muscles clench in succession, and your whole body seized up. “Fuck, yes, Tony,” you moaned.
He groaned and his breath became shallower. You listened closely to him on the other end of the line as your body relaxed again. He grunted and let out a breath. “Fuck…”
“Did you come?” you asked.
“Mm-hmm…” he hummed.
“Taste yourself, Tony,” you growled.
You heard the wet sound of him licking his fingers and he hummed softly.
“How do you taste?” you asked.
“Mm… I’ve had better.”
You laughed and stretched out. “That was hot.”
“It was,” he said. “I better get myself cleaned up and back in the boardroom. I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have to just say that, you know?” you said.
“No, I mean it,” he said. “Could be fun.”
“Alright. Well if I don’t hear from you, you’ll be the person I tell all my one-night stand stories about.”
He laughed. “Sounds good. Talk later.”
You hung up the phone and got up and used the bathroom. When you headed back down to the front of the bus your bandmates all looked up at you. “So, you got through then?” Cassie teased.
You smirked at them and everyone broke down into laughter. Once again you didn’t expect to hear from Tony Stark again. Little did you know...
Collide Sirius Black x fem!reader
Summary: The five times you collided with him.
requested by @silverose365 | masterlist
Gif from pinterest
Moving past the platform 9 3/4th was always fun, but not when you crash into a wizard standing too close to the entrance on the other side.
“Call me dead. Call me a saint. Because I must in heaven to see an angel,” Sirius said with a wink.
"Why were you standing there? Didn't you know people need to walk?" You asked angrily.
He was taken aback. He had thought you'd blush and flirt back. James, who was standing next to him, burst out laughing at his stunned expression.
You walked past them, not wanting to miss the train.
"UH- I'm sorry?" He yelled after you, but you ignored it.
Dummy, you thought to yourself. Well, a hot dummy, but still a dummy.
From then on he kept an eye on you and the classes you had with him. Sirius liked showing off when you were near - whether that's his cheesy pickup lines or his attempt at jokes. You remained unimpressed but a smile would occasionally slip out. He'd count that as a small victory.
One night, he was hanging out with the marauders when Remus pointed at their map.
"Isn't that your precious L/N?"
Sirius looked with a frown and it indeed was Y/N, outside Slughorn's office way past your curfew.
"What do you think she's doing?"
"Whatever it is," James nodded towards the name of Filch moving from the next room, exactly opposite to Y/N. "she's not going to be able to do it for much longer."
Sirius jumped up and looked at the mirror, patting down his hair.
“Pads, you good?” Remus asked with concern.
“I’m more than good. I’m going to go help her and make her fall in love with me!” He announced and was off.
“10 nickles says he’s going to get punched in the face instead,” James said to the room.
“I bet he’s going to get caught with Y/N and get more detentions,” Remus shrugged, looking back to the book in his hands.
- You heard hurrying footsteps, which vaguely resembled Filch’s. Gulping, you decided to move quickly. You turned to the left and walked into someone standing there.
Sirius quickly covered your mouth with his hands, thinking you’ll scream. You bit into his palm and he yelped, retracting it just as fast.
“What the hell was that for?” He asked quietly, pulling a coat over you both.
“What the hell is this?” You asked and he shushed. Filch appeared on the scene and all your hope for not getting caught completely vanished.
But somehow he didn’t seem to see you. He walked on, his eyes scanning everywhere.
“Invisibility clock,” you murmured, touching the fabric.
“Impressed yet?” Sirius asked with a smirk. You simply glared at him in the darkness.
“What were you doing here?”
“I could ask the same to you,” he raised an eyebrow.
“I was- okay fine, I was trying to mess up the ingredients from Slughorn’s cabinet so the potions would blow up in Malfoy’s face,” you admitted, annoyed.
“You are the ones who’s been behind those mysteriously increasing pranks against his crew?” He asked, a little too loud. You shushed him before Filch would see them again.
“It’s perfect, I do them, but I never get caught,” you said happily.
“Yes, because we get caught. McGonagall automatically goes to the assumption that me or James is behind them! You owe us a lot of detentions!”
“Uh, you could afford to lose your time in her office,” you shrugged, pulling the cloak away after making sure there wasn't anyone nearby. “But I happen to be a very busy person.”
His mouth was still open. Not only were you a mastermind, but you were using him and his friends to evade detentions. He didn’t know whether to turn you in or kiss you.
“Goodnight, Siri,” you blew him a kiss, your eyes amused. “And the next time you think I need a knight in shining armor, think about something else instead. Like how you shouldn’t be using too much hair gel.”
He couldn’t force a reply out, so he simply watched as you went back to your room.
The next year, while you were returning to your dormitory after losing the track of time in the library, you felt someone grab your hands. Before you could scream, you hit the chest of the person who pulled you in the broom cupboard.
“Oh of course, it’s you,” you straightened up, looking at the face of Sirius.
“Merlin, maybe I pulled you with too much force.” He rubbed his chest.
“What do you want?”
“Aren’t you the sweetest,” he said, looking outside the door and then back at you again. “So there’s two things happening. One, I’m trying to run away from McGonagall-”
“-and I saw you so I thought I’d ask you something.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m out of invisibility cloaks,” you grinned, but he didn't look amused.
“I want to recruit you to Dumbledore's Order,” he said hesitantly.
“He’s making Order of Phoenix. Sort of like a secret resistance group against Voldemort.” He explained. “Dumbledore asked us to tell him the names of people suitable for joining and he had already asked James, Remus, Peter and Lily. For some reason, I said your name.”
“Why?” You asked, frowning.
“In a war, the options are to fight or stand by.” He said, folding his hands. “You just don’t seem like the person who’d choose the latter.”
You wanted to say this was all an elaborate prank he’s making up to humiliate you, but you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice. Besides, making a secret group to fight the death eaters was exactly the kind of thing Dumbledore would do.
“I’ll join,” you finally said.
“Good,” he smiled.
You were listening to the radio in your new house, trying to feel a bit more peaceful. Peace wasn't much of an option though. The place was small, too unfamiliar and cold, but Dumbledore insisted everyone in the Order had to hide. You were not supposed to go back to your own house so this will do for now.
The knocks on your door were urgent. You would have hesitated to open it if not for the familiar voice outside.
“Y/N, open up now!” Remus was yelling.
You did as he asked and he grabbed your hand. Before you could ask where you were going, he had disapparated with you.
“Where are we at-” you stopped when you noticed the house in front of you.
“Godric’s Hollow,” Remus whispered.
Wizards were appearing in crowds to see what was going on. You couldn't keep your mind steady. If the Potters’ house was suddenly visible, it could only mean one thing.
Voldemort had found them.
“No!” You ran inside, while Remus followed quietly. When you passed the gate, you felt yourself colliding with Sirius Black and for the first time, you couldn’t care less. You had to get to Lily and James. You refused to believe they were dead.
Sirius grabbed you back, and you fought against his hold. To your surprise, he did let you go. You turned to see him being taken by some wizards in formal robes, the ones you knew was what Aurors and the ministry wore.
“Wait, what’s going on?” You asked, momentarily distracted.
“Someone had to give away their secret,” Minister Millicent Bagnold said with a somber face. The ministry didn’t care when the attack was happening, but now that the Potters were dead, they were here just to point fingers.
“No, he didn’t- no don’t take him away,” you raised your wand, not knowing what you were doing. Lupin came by your side. You thought he’d help you, but all he did was slowly bend your hand back to its resting position.
You looked at him wildly.
“Remus, that’s our friend!” You started desperately. “You can’t think he had anything to do with this?!”
Remus kept staring at the struggling Sirius, as if he was ashamed to answer. You let out a cry of despair.
One night was all it took to tear them all apart.
“I didn’t betray them, I couldn’t—” Sirius was yelling. One of the Aurors pointed their wand at him and he fell to the ground, shrieking in pain.
“Stop that!” You rushed forwards, but Lupin held you back.
“What do you- let me go!” You watched hopelessly as Sirius was taken away, his pain too much for him to keep yelling. His eyes met yours for one final time, as if to say it’ll be okay.
Twelve years later.
The streets were bustling. You pushed past everyone, not caring about apologies or manners. This was the day you were waiting for. Every day for the past years, you were said to be crazy for believing Sirius wasn't the real villain. Now that he escaped, and now that Dumbledore finally saw fit to tell the Order the truth, you felt exhilarated beyond belief.
You were going to see Sirius Black after 12 years. Who cared if you had to push a few people into puddles for it?
Your hair flew behind you like wings of their own. The patter of your feet echoed the beats of your heart. The flush in your cheeks could be mistaken for rose petals. You’ve never felt so alive.
When you turned the corner towards Grimmauld Place, you tried to push past yet another person, but this man seemed to be waiting for you, which resulted in you falling towards the ground on top of him.
He got up hastily, his laughs giving you a familiar warm feeling. You didn’t even need to open your eyes to know it was Sirius Black.
“We should probably stop colliding someday you know,” you said, standing up with a big smile.
“I don’t know about that. At this point, it’s like our secret handshake,” he smiled back, before pulling you in for a fierce hug.
“I missed you,” you whispered, and when he pulled apart, he looked rather smug.
“I’d miss me too, I’m pretty cool.” He shrugged and you rolled your eyes. He stepped forwards to hug you again, and while your bones felt like they may break, you could do nothing except hug him back. You didn’t ever want to let him go, and judging by how happy he looked to see you again, he had no complaints about staying that way forever either.
He finally felt like he was back home.
Kinktober Day 20 - Mind Break
[ cw: character death ]
You’ve been cursed. You swear, you have. Ever since your best friend died in an accident, you’d been grieving for him. You became distant, barely answering any of your calls from friends and family. Texts went entirely ignored and muted. You were sick to your stomach, like some cruel god had reached into your guts and twisted them for mere amusement, messing with your already messed up life. Until Bakugou’s parents had finally mustered up the courage to pay you a visit, and Masaru had given you your best friend’s other half of an old friendship necklace you’d given to each other when you were kids.
It was meant for two people; in the shape of a moon and a crescent, decorated with diamonds as stars. Bakugou’s father gave it to you with a forlorn look on his face, and when you realized that your best friend—Masaru’s only son—had kept it close at all times, you cried more than you ever had before in your entire life. Bakugou had kept this with him the whole time... even though he had scoffed when you’d first shoved it into his sweaty, clammy palms. You thought the blonde tossed it into the trash, when really, he’d kept it close to his heart beneath that black tank top. You clung to both Masaru and Mitsuki as you sobbed, and when they were sure you were fed and ready to rest, they left you alone to sob into your palms some more with both halves of the necklace in your lap.
The silence sickened you. It was thick and suffocating. You were so used to Bakugou’s constant booming voice, rasping around you with some sort of half irritated, half amused scoff. You hated how you had become so detached and alone without him. Helpless and utterly hopeless.
That was the first time you cried yourself to sleep in a very, very long time.
Then, the terrible, shitty sleep came next.
Lately, your dreams consist of the same, elusive emptiness. Containing nothing but bright, glowing red eyes that stare back at you from the abyss. And when you’d wake, nothing but a dull throbbing pulsated in the side of your skull and left you feeling sunken and more exhausted than when you went to bed.
At first, you jotted it down to stress and brushed off the strange dreams as nothing more than being overworked and coping with Bakugou’s death... and oh... how fucking stupid you were to do nothing about it. With each passing week, that thing- whatever the fuck it was- was growing bigger and stronger every day. With each hour you ignored it looming behind your back, that had only strengthened the bond tethering your souls together. The thin red thread that was wrapped around your pinky, had become as thick and strong as a steel chain locked around your wrist.
The bags beneath your eyes were dark and heavy. And with each passing night, you swore you were going insane. By the time you had convinced yourself to seek out some form of help—either from a doctor, an exorcist, hell, even the closest person who seemed to dabble with voodoo—it was too late. The pieces of your mind were fragile and cracking at the corners like glass threatening to shatter. And after a whole month of that sickening, fucking silence and staring into those hooded, vibrant red eyes, you felt your composure buckling beneath shaky legs and you finally broke.
But this thing- this creature- with its demonic, slitted eyes, ram horns and sharp claws, forked tail and tongue... it purred as you shook like an innocent, frightened little lamb before the slaughter.
You lay in your bed, eyes wide and frantic, watching the beast lurking in the shadows, tail swishing side to side in an almost lazy manner. It tilted its head to the side, as if it were mildly amused by the scent of your fear hanging heavy in the air. And in the dim light of the moon peaking through your room between the curtains, you spot a long, slimy tongue licking between pearly white teeth and curled lips.
It was smiling, and you were frozen. Your limbs refused to move a single inch. You couldn’t even quiver as its hulking body approached your terrified form on the mattress.
Sleep paralysis. You were 100% sure this was nothing more than a case of sleep paralysis. The only thing you could do, was watch the demonic creature before you and blink, then it stepped into the moonlight and you finally meet your hellish captor... You swear your heart skipped a beat and stopped.
Familiar, ash blonde hair covered his head in messy spikes. His body was far bigger in comparison to the average human male. He had to be at least eight feet tall. And from behind him, you can spot large, black wings that resemble a raven with feathers torn up and fraying at the tips. His chest is bare, and littered with a plethora of scars. Your now very, very dead best friend, stood before you in the form of a demon.
Katsuki. You think, as the corner of your eyes gather with fresh tears threatening to spill.
“Hey angel,” he replies, voice deeper and huskier in this form. He uses those massive wings to land over your body, caging you beneath him with literal claws on either side of your head. He has that same, cocky grin from when his heart was still beating and alive as he asks in a teasing tone, face-to-face.
paring: nomad!steve rogers x reader
warnings: technically? it’s angsty reunion sex. but vanilla or soft so like,,,, yeh
notes: this is for all the steve stans bc there is apparently quite a few of you. i don’t really particularly like steve anymore, but just for one day i will so you can be fed properly bc apparently you need it by the sheer volume of you asking me for him. and I’M SORRY IT’S A LITTLE ON THE ANGSTY SIDE STEVE IS ALWAYS ANGSTY WITH MESDKJDFJK
kinktober tag list: @theaudacitytowrite @thinkingth0ts @minssmutblog @abasiclokiwhore @user8292 @itsz-justea @lanablakee @marvelmysterywoman @geeky-politics-46 @stardust-galaxies @milly-louise @agustdowney @aenother @dtrl2003 @writewithmarites @pennywiseass @ssstilesreid @thehuntresswolf @iwannafeelallthatloveandemotion @remuslupinsmoon @lalaooopsie @40sbuckyy @ihascheseberger @a-lonely-gray-couch
kinktober masterlist | feedback | kinktober taglist is here! fill this out to be apart of it! | ALSO! day 31 i’ve deemed as FOLLOWER’S CHOICE! click here to be taken to the follower’s choice poll and cast your vote!! (VOTING CLOSES OCTOBER 26TH!)
He’s been running. Running to what, you don’t know. He never fucking tells you anyway, but you’ve found him again, and fuck, you’re not risking losing him a second or third time.
“Steve,” you whimper as he’s finally sliding his cock deep within you to the hilt. “P-Please don’t leave. Not...not again.”
He’s hovering over you in this simplistic position, your legs loosely framing his hips as his hands are pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His face is conflicted as he feels your walls contracting around him.
“I can’t promise you that,” he breathes. “I fucked it, I’m on the run—”
“Steve,” you mutter, your hands cupping his bearded face in your palms. “Please.”
Steve sighs, hips shifting against you so he can try to stay as still as possible. He didn’t want to bring you into this. He never intended to.
But the world works in weird ways.
“I can try for you,” he finally offers after you’ve held your breath waiting. “That’s the best I can offer.”
The sigh you let out is shaky, and tears are absolutely stinging in your eyes. You know he’s telling the truth. You hold eye contact before whimpering out a pathetic okay and kissing him deeply. Steve reciprocates immediately, his hands moving to press into your soft skin for what could possibly be the last time.
“Move, Steve,” you mumble against his lips as you buck your hips up to get some kind of friction.
It was really all he needed to start pumping his cock in and out of you in deep, slow strokes, almost as if he was savouring every inch of your body he could for the last time.
You thrashed in the rigid grip on your shoulders, fighting to distance yourself, any consideration of the power imbalance cast aside. Diluc’s annoyed expression made it evident he wasn’t amused with your so called tantrum. He stared at you as if you were a crybaby, as if you were simply whining and acting like a child, like you were the insane one within the room. He never did hit you though. He’d lock you into rooms alone for days straight, he’d grasp you and pull you close, despite your protests, insisting it was for your own good and that you’ll get used to it one day, when you inevitably come to love him. Still, he never struck you. At times, you wished he did. It would be better than that dehumanizing glare of his, the one that makes you feel like you’re the troubled one.
As time passed, your thrashing slowed, eventually stopping all together and being replaced by labored breaths. “Ready to listen?” Diluc asked, pausing to wait for any sign of attentiveness. Seeing no attempts to fight back once again, he continued to speak. “Good. Now, as I was saying earlier, it’s become clear that you’re still struggling with adjusting to your new life here. Now, I want you to tell me what I can do to help you with adjusting. If there is something that’s wrong or that is making this difficult on you, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. I promise you, that I’ll make this place your paradise, as long as you work with me here. So tell me, what do you need?”
“I…need t-to….go..go…home,” you words were spaced out with every deep breath you took clearly out of breath from your previous thrashing around, though as soon as you spoke that final word, tears filled your eyes. With a single blink, droplets started to stream down your cheeks. Before you could wipe them yourself, Diluc’s gloved thumbs harshly pushed them away, his fingertips putting far too much pressure than needed on your face. Maybe his irritation shined through more than just his face this time. Typically his touch was lighter.
“It’s like I told you, that’s off the table.” Diluc’s voice sounded dull, so calm and practiced, as if he’d dealt with this loads of times. Maybe he had. You’ve lost track of how many times he attempted to force you to have this conversation. “I’m willing to reason here, but you’re just acting so stubborn. If you don’t say anything else for a change, I’ll never be able to fix things. I’ve made it clear I’m acknowledging adjustments must be made. Just help me to understand what I need to do differently.”
Oh how you hated that phrase of his. Help him to understand? What more was there to help him to understand? He’d abused his power and forcibly kidnapped you. He’d thrown out any hint of understanding from the moment he did that. How could you pity someone like him? Clenching your fist and gritting your teeth, you did the only thing anybody would do. You threw a punch at him. A slow punch. A weak punch. A futile punch. Right before it collided into his face along with that stupid, stupid expression of his, his own hand latched onto your wrist. “If only you used the energy you put into whining into communicating, then we’d actually get somewhere,” he muttered the comment under his breath, pushing his hand towards the floor and rising to his feet, he sighed, glancing at you one last time, as if he had something to say. Whatever it was, he must have decided to hold his tongue. The door shut behind him after he walked out, multiple unnecessary locks clicking soon after, as if just one wasn’t enough. It wasn’t like you were getting anywhere close to the door anytime soon after all. You’ve done that once, but you should know, Diluc never makes the same mistake twice, implying he made one to start with.
Diluc never treated you that badly really whenever you thought about the worst-case scenarios, the ones he used to bring up constantly whenever he deemed you as acting “ungrateful”. He’d treated you much better than the treasure hoarders would have if they got their hands on you. He was more like a fussing parent than anything really. Forcing you to eat balanced meals, not allowing you to get up until you cleared your plate, he really did behave like a parent. He gave you anything you could possibly need, and made it clear that all you had to do was ask and he’d give anything your heart desired to you, but you seemed to be persistent in refusing to take him up on that offer. Speaking to him was the last thing you wanted to do. No no, you were petrified enough every time that he entered a room.
He had doctors visit all the time to check you out, ensuring that you were eating properly during the times that you weren’t under his own watchful eye. You’d attempted to tell them everything he’d done, but they all just waved it off with a smile, acting as if they couldn’t care any less about his deeds. You supposed that if you waved enough mora in front of anyone’s face, that they would be willing to throw away all their morals. His maids acted the same exact way, smiling at you as if they hadn’t heard you screaming pleas for help the night before. Perhaps he’d convinced them all that you were hysterical.
He was cruel, but he wasn’t a sadist. Even here, locked inside the basement in his overly organized house, you had all you ever needed. Food stored up in the fridge, a clean bathroom filled with all necessities, and a comfortable enough of a cot. It wasn’t the best, and it made the lavish bed waiting for you upstairs look way more appealing, but at least he didn’t make you sleep on the floor, like he threatened to once. At least he had some respect for you. It was freezing down here, but at the least it was tolerable. The only things difficult to bear about your punishment was that chain around your ankle and the silence, that suffocating silence. It made you want to go crazy, but you can guess that was the point. All there ever was to do down there was sleep or think, and thinking was beginning to lose its appeal right now. Sleeping on the other hand, it lost its appeal long ago, as well, but at the very least, it made the time down here pass quicker. Curling into a ball, clutching your and shutting your eyes, it allowed you to escape for a little while. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t have an awful nightmare about him.
By the time you woke up, you were tucked into velvet blankets, in a room far less damp than the one you fell asleep in. Still, why was everything so fuzzy? “Good morning,” chimed in a lighthearted voice. It must be Adelinde, she’s the only maid Diluc allows to speak to you nowadays. “Master Diluc said you weren’t looking too well whenever he came to check on you last night, I hope you’re feeling better this morning.” Blinking a few times, your vision became much more clear. She was holding a tray, standing at the foot of your bed. A few clicks of her heels later, she was standing beside you, gently placing the tray on the bedside table and placing a hand on you. “Goodness! You’re ice cold! Your breakfast is still warm, you should eat up. Master Diluc will be here shortly.” Oh. That never was good news.
Diluc always had business to attend to in the mornings. Whenever you weren’t locked down in the basement, you’d be woken up with a kiss on the forehead and a simple, “I’ll be back later.” at the very crack of dawn. He’d be gone before you could process anything that just occurred, but the mornings that he was around -- they were horrid. It meant he’d taken the day off of all his usual responsibilities. It meant you’d spend the day cramped inside of his arms, unable to slip away despite your many attempts. It meant that he’d replace his scowl with an expression meant to resemble love. And worst of all, it meant that you weren’t going to have moment free of his terrifying presence all day.
“Are you alright?” Adelinde spoke up, taking a look over her shoulder at you as she fooled with something in the dresser drawers. “You’re ice cold and all the color is gone from your face. You may be sick, I should inform Master Diluc.” She quickly slammed the drawer, hastily moving out the door and closing it behind her. You could hear some muffled noises through the door, two people speaking to one another, but couldn’t make out any particular words. Pushing the blankets aside, you step closer to the door, in hopes of hearing any part of the discussion. Yet, just as you got close enough, the door swung open and you found yourself staring into sharp red eyes.
“You shouldn’t be up,” was all that he said before a rough hand grabbed your shoulder, pushing you towards the bed again. With one hand on each side of your waist, he lifted you and threw you on the bed, instantly causing you to sink into the mess of blankets. “You haven’t touched your breakfast either.” Diluc walks over where Adelinde left your breakfast laying, cutting a piece off one of the pancakes and stabbing it with a fork.
“Open wide, alright?”
Sherlock Incorrect Quotes | Sherlock & Y/N
Sherlock : Fuck.
Y/N : We've got to work on your cursing.
Sherlock : Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.
zhongli's masterlist [ . . . ]
until it begin again
description: you glance up on a familiar person at your favorite tea house, one you haven’t visited in hundreds of years
Dear human people and creatures of the DMC fandom, I do kindly ask for DMC related material to write with. I have been experiencing a great feeling of bored these past few days, so it’s only natural I turn to a bunch of strangers on the internet. I do ask that you submit your ideas in the comments or my ask box, I will be doing every request I get.
(Preferably Vergil/V related stuff and x reader stuff...I do fanfics/headcanon lists)
Warm thanks, the person who runs this blog
When you wear heels and see how tall he looks to other people...
You can see the outskirts of Heywood from here. Great place for acting wierd around the person you have a crush on.
Taste of Heaven
Kinktober - 10th Post - Bill Fordham - Oral F!Receiving.
Note/Warning: This is the Bill Fordham dynamic with reader from New Developments. Age gap. Squint and there is some Food!Kink.
The leaves, crunched under your boots as walked through the orchard with Bill. Your arms were linked as he carried the basket. You leaned against him, “This is wonderful.” You beamed at him
His smile warmed you on this cool day as he looked down at you. “I am glad we could get away.”
You had been buried up to your neck in mid-terms and he been swamped in correcting a mountain of papers.
Walking further down the well worn path, finally trees appeared with apples dangling from their branches.
He rose an eyebrow. “Shall we start?”
You nodded happily.
Together, you went over to a particularly gnarly looking tree. “Oh! Bill that one.” You pointed to a delicious looking red one.
“Yes, that’s a good one.” Easily, he reached it and with a plunk he dropped it into the basket.
He slid you a smile while grabbing a second close where the other one hung. He rubbed it. “Would you like a bite?” There was a playful glint in his eyes.
You looked around. “Bill, we can’t!” You hissed.
“Of course we can.”
“Yes.” He offered you the apple. When you tried to take it he held then just out of reach. “I’ll hold it for you.”
“Oh, alright.” You giggled. You laid a gentle over his hands and took a bit. It was a sharp bittersweet and absolutely delicious apple.
“Oh! Bill!” You exclaimed around the piece of the apple that was amazing. You chewed and swallowed.
You watched as he took a bite too. You saw the delight wash over him. “Oh that is quite good.”
“May I have another bite?”
“Of course.” Happily you took your second bite. Bill did the same but then gasping you watched as he tossed it then away.
You chewed fast, outrage filling you. “Bill why did you do that? It was so good.”
A playful smirk crinkled his eyes. “There will be others that will taste even better.”
Your shoulders slumped. “If you say so.”
He nudged you. “I do.”
Soon, you went up one and then another and yet another path grabbing and plucking apples high and low.
Bill stopped and a light entered his eyes once again. He soon grabbed one and rubbed it like he had the last one.
“Would you like a bite?” He held it out to you.
“Of course.” Like a before you, placed a hand over his. As your teeth sunk in, it was juicer and not thinking it was possibly but it made the other one tasteless. “This one is amazing!”
He smiled broadly at you. “I knew it would be.” Bill then very contently took a bite of it.
Watching his joy made the knots in your stomach just need to be appeased. “Bill kiss me.”
He came over and once again tossed the apple behind him but then he pulled you close. His beard was a wonderful tease as your lips met. And his kiss was a mixture of those amazing apples and him. Your heart fluttered.
Slipping off your boots, you then carried the two baskets to the counter. Leaning against the counter you soon took down all the ingredients you needed. You washed your hands then began by pre-heating the oven.
You smiled as you heard the jangle of Bill’s keys as he put them in the dish by his door.
It wasn’t long before the flour flew and you were already kneading the dough. You sighed and shivered a little as Bill came up behind you and hugged you. The autumn’s chill clung to him. “Already baking?”
Turning, your head you smiled back at him. “I didn’t want to wait.”
He smiled and gave you a squeeze. “That’s my girl.”
Stepping back, you missed the feel of his solid frame.
You watched as he put away the cider and the extra apples the two of you were going to keep to enjoy outside of the crisp. “These berries look really good.”
You nodded as you continued to work at the dough. “They do. I can’t believe we had so many out there.” You confessed.
“Well, they were really good.” He pointed out.
Bill came over and grabbed a bowl. Going back to his fridge, he heard as he filled the bowl with some whipped cream.
“Bill, what are you up to?”
“You’ll see.” He came over and stood behind you once again. He placed the bowl near you.
Soon, he dipped a berry into the cream. “Would you like it?”
Soon, like before he easily fed you the berries. The feel of fingers and the berries made your heart flutter.
“You looked very beautiful today, honey.” You felt as Bill, brushed aside some of your hair before whispering in your ear.
You leaned against him. “Thank you.”
You watched as he had some of the berries. Your heart squeezed, as you felt his hand drift up your throat. “Bill?” All questions disappeared as he kissed you then. It was sweet and tender, but there was something just under it that you couldn’t place but it caused knots to loosen and tighten within you.
As he kissed you, you whimpered softly as you felt his hand drift down you till he easily slipped his hand under your skirt. His kiss deepened, and you moaned as his fingers slipped into your panties. It was exquisite how he made you feel as he rubbed you gently there, making you wetter.
“You feel so good.” He remarked breaking the kiss.
“Please.” Was all you could manage. He was making you feel so good but you were on the brink. So close. You needed it.
“Not yet.” He whispered.
You whimpered as his touch left you.
That’s when you felt as he slipped away from you. His hands slipped up your legs. “We have to take these off.”
He tugged and pulled just enough, then your pants were coming down your legs. You easily stepped out of them. “Now open for me honey. After all these apples, then those berries, I need something that is even better.
You made a soft sound, as your hands twined and squeezed the dough even more. Shifting just so, you opened your legs. You glanced down and he settled there between them. He smiled up at you. “You can still work on your crisps.”
“I can try.”
You felt as his beard grazed the soft skin of your thighs as he pressed kisses here and there.
You threw your head back as he first just kissed you. He made a deep content sound. His tongue, just slide along your wetness barely moving between your soft folds. You were already panting. You felt as his hands held you firmer as then his tongue explored all of you. You called out, your hands shaking as you tried to move further along in making your crisps.
Swallowing and trembling you tried to fold in the apples into the dough, but there was no way that you could. His tongue, slid into you then. You moved against him as he did.
Holding you, he mimicked that and moved you and his mouth together. You squirmed and writhed in his hands, if he wasn’t holding you so well, your knees would have buckled.
“Bill.” You panted.
“That’s my girl. Yes. Cum for me, you taste so good.” His tongue teased your little bud there. He made a deep sound. “Better then any berry.
When you looked down at him, his blue eyes were fiery in his passion. It made what you were feeling even more intense.
“Yes. Yes.” You bounced a little in his hands as you were on the cusp, you knew you were so close.
His tongue slipped in and out of you then. The sensation was different then when he was deeply in you but this was exciting in its own way.
“Bill!” You choked, as you tried to grasp onto some air. You moaned, glancing at him. The sight along between your legs pushed you over the edge. “Yes.” You managed and pushed against him, your legs instinctively closing just enough as you felt yourself come undone.
You shook, as he gave you a few final licks. You were barely able to squeeze the dough any longer.
“Come down here honey. I want you in my lap.” He gently told you once he slid from you, but still pressed a few well placed kisses on your thighs.
You ndded, despite them being wobbly you easily straddled him as you sunk into his lap. He held you then. His fingers running through your hair, as you nestled close to him.
He tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Next, I may have to do that in the orchard.”
You trembled. “You wouldn’t.”
A smirk curled underneath his beard. “I would.” A mischievous chuckled came from him. That gave you knots all over again in your stomach. “I had thought that, eating and feeding you all that apple and berries would have been enough. But I grew harder and harder, honey. I craved you more then any of those fruits.”
“Bill. You will make me wet all over again, here in your kitchen.”
“Then perhaps I’ll have to take you right here.” He gently teased.
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