Naw, But Reader Asking To Try Ning's Pipe Would Be So Cute.

Naw, but reader asking to try Ning's pipe would be so cute.

🥺😩😫

warnings : sfw because i cant creatively think of smth more ex/plicit right now, but it is written kinda suggestively so do take caution ; also clothed or not is unspecified have fun friends

++ obvious smoking warning & not proofread

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 || 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭

you’re breathless by this point, cold sweat running down the edges of your face whilst the only air filling your lungs was the short breaths of her secondhand smoke. she held that prized possession even through the most passionate of moments, or the most dire of nights; it was as if whenever you found yourself sitting right atop her lap, the oxygen in the room was replaced with a poison meant to suffocate you.

but such grey smoke always looked so pretty between her lips, unfortunately so. you couldn’t help but stare upon countless of nights—so much that it was like a toxin so addictive that you would willingly choke just to breathe in her beauty.

and perhaps, she was of the same mind.

it was only when she leaned up—bare top of her shoulders glimmering under these dim lights—that you stared down so mesmerized at her movements. she looked hazy yet ravishingly golden amidst this smoke-filled atmosphere; if you weren’t already gasping for salvation before, then surely, now, you were drowning in the ocean of her domination.

one of her hands traced up to your neck, settling right there as if her palm alone had control of your whole body ( and maybe, it did ). her thumb poked up. it rested right under your jaw, propping you head up so you’d have to look down just to see her. she was studying your face so intently that you could take a million guesses and still come short of an answer.

but she was the tianqian, ningguang—even a stare felt golden from a golden women. had you not been lightheaded from these pale lilac fumes, then perhaps you would’ve felt more intimated.

her other hand inched up your arm—you shivered unwillingly. it felt cold. the wood from her pipe—it felt so cold it was almost metal. “you’ve been staring at it for hours,” she comments through muttered hushes.

her fingers slowly twirled the pipe like it was nothing, all before she slowly placed the end right in front of your face. you parted your lips like a sinner; all so easily as a pet dog under command of her.

“why don’t you have a taste?”

her lipstick stains still laid atop the surface, staining your own tired and bruise lips with more of her color.

she parted her lips only slightly as she stared you down and visibly breathed in—she was guiding you, awh, how sweet. you inhaled alone with her, feeling the taste of his smoke filling the cavern of your mouth. it spread until you felt it at the edge of your throat, and then—

she laughed as your body jerked back, choking into a fit of dry coughs.

it was almost insulting; she laughed like you were a child that could not handle such adult practices like her own. belittling, practically. your face burned in embarrassment as your throat continued to gasp, the air quality of the room only making the irritation in your eyes and dryness in your lungs even worse.

“so cute,” she mused aloud without caution. you felt humiliated, yet butterflies soared in your stomach all the same. she pulled you back only closer, breathing in an impressive amount of smoke into her mouth and diving to kiss you, parting your lips so forcibly to blow her poison between your lips.

you gasped just to keep up—she was a quick woman, and you were only her lapdog. “don’t you worry,” she smiled through lidded eyes. the mischief in her red hues were more than evident. “i’ll get you used it.”

Liar Liar

Yandere Final Girl x Slasher reader

Summary: After escaping an attack from the town serial killer, party girl Daina throws a get together to celebrate. Only, she made the whole thing up.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: blood/gore, violence, murder, slight emetophobia

“We’re here now with Ms. White, the alleged latest survivor in a series of recent murders by the serial killer known as Mercy Valentine, by locals. Any words you’d like to say to the press?”

“It was horrible... My… my boyfriend was killed when we were heading home after practice. I managed to get away after being attacked in the locker room, but he… he didn’t make it. I found him… bleeding there in the field. When I came back with police, he was gone.” 

“Are you aware of the rumors that it may be a copycat? There has never been any reports of a body being taken from the scene.”

“Believe me, I know who I saw that night…”

The video pauses; frozen on a frame of a young woman with tear stains running down her face. Said girl falls back on her bed; the worried praise of her friends falling at her side.

“You’re so brave, Daina.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere after something like that.”

Daina-Grace White, or just Daina White depending on the crowd. Her parents thought their special little girl needed a special name, and that’s why she had been christened with a hyphenated first name. A star cheerleader in high school and track runner in her spare time. Everyone’s first pick for prom queen, and as the clip proclaimed; the most recent victim to the killer known as Mercy Valentine.

Mercy's preferred targets were those in pairs; one to take the blade, and the other to tell the tale. Couples were a frequent hit; earning them the latter part of their name – even if friend groups and families had fallen as well. The surviving party always had injuries such as scrapes and bruises, but the killer would turn and walk away before they became fatal. People speculated this was out of wanting to become some type of urban legend in the town, others some sort of guilt for their crimes. A few - believed it was on a level far deeper than that

Poor Diana and her boyfriend, Nathaniel, had been all alone on the night it happened. Scares out of their minds, one on the brink of death. It would have been a traumatic experience for the survivor and a terrible end for the one who died; had Nathaniel not gone missing the night prior. 

“Thanks, guys. Part of the reason I’m able to go on is because of the support of friends like you.”

It was rather easy to fake; especially with evidence practically placed on a silver platter for her. There had been talk around campus from his sister about him not returning home last night, and his car was found parked a couple streets away from her home. It was known to many that Nathaniel had the hots for Daina; even giving her his coat on a rainy day. With his phone conveniently placed in the passenger seat, and a slash to her arm; Daina was able to come up with a story that threw off most skeptics. 

Daina sits up, stretching away the worries of the day. “Let’s not focus on it for now. We have a party to get ready for!”

-

Most wouldn’t expect one to have a get together after the tragic death of their loved one, but Daina wasn’t like most people. She was a live in the moment type girl, and this moment was the prime of her youth. Plus, if anything were to happen, her father had given Daina her birthday present early. He really didn’t want to leave her alone after the ordeal, but duty calls. 

Snacks, sodas, and a punch bowl full of enough liquor to make someone forget the evening entirely sat on the kitchen counter. Living room lights were turned down low; and music played through speakers about the house. Every door and window had been left unlocked; just inviting the devil to play. She changes into something that’s easy to move around in, throwing her old top to a corner that lands on a mannequin she used to dress up when she was little.

“Sorry about that.” Daina giggles, tossing the clothing into its proper storage before heading back downstairs. 

-

8pm just minutes away, Daina hops on her couch and begins livestreaming to her social media of choice.

“Hey, everyone! Just getting the last couple things ready for tonight’s party. Times are tough, and we all need something to lighten the mood around this town.”

Comments pour in, only one catching her eye.

“Aren’t you worried about the danger?”

“Screw that! The killer supposedly never goes after the same victim twice, and even if they did come after me, I’ll just kick their ass like last time.”

She lifts up her arm, showing off her bandaged wrist while holding up her middle finger. Uncaring of the dangers of her actions; and whoever may come across the stream.

-

Eight o’clock finally hits, and the people begin to pour in. The party didn’t actually start until thirty minutes later, but there were always those who showed up early. Daina greets everyone with smiles and the occasional hug; pleasantries stopped when a certain individual walks through her door.

“Hey, Gracie… How you holding up?”

Mike was a quarterback for the school’s football team, and the best friend of the, supposedly, late, Nathaniel. He was the first to call Daina out on her claims; an allegation quickly shot down by their peers. In another life, the title of Mike's best friend belonged to her. A sweet girl, up until the beginning of high school, where her true colors began to come to light. The event that led to their falling out had been sweet under the rug due to only the two knowing of it; yet the scars were still there.

“Daina. What are you doing here, Mike?”

Mike stiffens, shuffling in his spot at the door. “I.. just want to bury the hatchet. We’re losing people left and right. For numerous reasons. It’s better to stick with each other than to hold grudges.”

Daina glares at him, but steps aside. “Alright, fine.” Mike starts to walk in, but she stops him again. “If you start anything, I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

-

The party kicks up around nine. Young adults spilled across all floors of her house, and the backyard. A small group stands by the pool; two individuals holding the ankles of another hovering over a keg someone had bought. 

“27…28…”

Thomas taps the side of the container, the contents in his stomach slowly edging back to his throat. It relaxes as his friends put him down, but the way the world around him spins and the heaviest of his body tells him it won’t last long. He cheers along with the crowd; covering his hand over his mouth as he pushes through them all to head back inside. Passing the hostess, he weakly asks;

“Hey… where’s the bathroom?”

Daina points towards the stairs. “Second door on your left.”

With a brief thanks, he speeds up the stairs and to the bathroom. He barely makes it to the bowl before he begins to heave. The sound of his retching blocks out all other sounds; the cool night air on the back of his neck. Had he paid attention to the room for a second longer when he entered; he would have noticed that the window had been closed when he walked on.

Thomas flushes the toilet and stands on wobbly legs, walking over to the sink to wash out his mouth. He bends forward to splash water in his face. Through the waves, he spots something in the corner of the room. A shadow distinctive from the rest; its face a mix of white and pink.

“What the fu-"

Before he can continue, Thomas' face is slammed against the mirror; open eye pressed to the glass. He tries to flail around, but his actions are cut short by a blade to his neck. With a single slice, his throat is split; blood gurgling from the fresh wound and out the corners of his mouth. He slumps against the sink as the weight behind him vanishes; body twitching as it draws its last struggled breath.

-

“God damn it.”

Daina sighs in annoyance; shutting the lid of a pocket mirror her friend had leant her.

“What’s wrong, Daina?”

“My lipstick got smeared. I need to go put on some more.” Daina sets her cup on the nearby table; a ring of red lips around its ridge. She walks upstairs, pass the locked bathroom door, and heads into her room. She shuts an open drawer, and picks up a tube of lipstick to put it on – a scraping sound across the floor boards catching her ear.

“Hm?” She looks around, the only thing in her general field being that little mannequin she called a roommate. It rocked gently, wheels turned outward. Must’ve gotten hit when she entered the room. She smiles and places her arms over its shoulders.

“Hello, there. Were you trying to sneak up on me?”

The mannequin fails to reply; blank eyes staring back at her through the mask on its face. The arms of the coat draped over swaying as she turns around. Music thumping through the floorboards, she begins to dance with it as her partner. She places her head on its shoulder, swaying to the beat as she wraps her hands around its neck.

“I’m so glad that you’re with me…” She mutters.

Daina hums to herself; unaware of the crack in her closet door. The eyes that peer through. 

“Daina!”

She turns her head to the door; letting out a huff as he unlocks her arms from the doll and leaves the room in a hurry.

“Coming!”

As she leaves the closet’s doors handle rattles ever so gently; swinging outward as a figure creeps from the dark. Their eyes linger on the mannequin.. and the plastic that made up its face.

-

Downstairs; Daina is greeted by one of her friends – a worried look on their face. “Hey, Daina.. have you seen Thomas? I tried calling his phone, but he’s not answering, and his car is still outside.”

“I haven’t seen him all night. He’s probably wasted in my parents room or something….” Her eyes trail away as she spots something on the patio; the red bud of a cigarette and smoke clouds blown into the air.. “Hang on, I have to deal with this.” 

“But someone told me they saw you with…”

Daina pushes past them and storms outside. Mike stands outside; stare vacant and the nicotine stick between his lips. He doesn’t even look at her when she starts to go off.

“What the hell, Mike. I know it’s been years, but I told you not to smoke in here. If I find a single bud…”

“You’re still thinking about that day. Aren’t you?..”

He pulls a photo from his pocket. A photo from middle school graduation, or at least the remains of one. The page had been cut to show only a small group in the larger crowd. Daina hadn’t even noticed the picture was gone; too busy focusing on her appearance. She grinds her teeth. 

“You went in my room?” 

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“An invasion of my privacy is a pretty big deal, Mike.”

“She was my friend too, Daina.

“She isn’t the fucking point!”

A scream tears them both from the conversation. Both of them, along with various other members of the party rushed inside to see what was happening. A crowd had gathered around the walk in pantry in the kitchen; one person collapsed to the floor and staring in pure terror at what was inside. Pushing through the bodies; Daina manages to squeeze to the front and see what the problem was; her stomach dropping at the sight.

Propped against a shelf of canned goods; the corpse of another girl was sprawled on the floor. A knife wound pierced her eye as well as various spots of her chest; blood drying into her clothes. A single finger was painted red; words written onto the floor in her blood.

“LIAR.”

Calamity breaks out all at once. People screaming; shouting. Making breaks for the front door and any other exits. Daina crashes to the floor; Mike runs through the house and informs everyone else they need to flee. He picks up a poker near the fireplace as Daina regains her composer – wiping a grin from her face. 

“What are you going to do?” She asks.

“I’m going to kill that mother fucker. Call the police!”

Daina nods; heading upstairs where she had left her phone. Mike begins to sweep the house to find the intruder; kicking open doors and leaving no place unchecked. It's how he comes across the bodies of Thomas and a few other people. All in locations tucked away from sight. After a thorough investigation, there’s only one place left to look. The basement. 

Mike grips the handle; the shaking of his palms visible against its knob. He hesitantly opens it; a dim light all the way at the end of the steps. He begins to descend them; the light from the kitchen blocked by an object behind him.

-

Within the basement there is one final body. A young man with shaggy hair and wearing a sports jersey. He sits in a chair; the angle making it look as though he were merely asleep. The smells that come off his body are blocked by the mask over the approaching figure's face; their blade raised high over head. There is no scream as it falls; just the wet sound of metal entering flesh. His body loses balance as the knife is ripped through his neck; falling forward onto the ground below. Stab wounds litter his body; the puddles of blood around each hole having fully dried. His supposed assailant stands there confused; obvious to the running steps behind them. 

Mike brings the fire poker down on the masked individual’s skull. They crash to the floor; blood leaking through their scalp. They attempted to reach for their weapon; stopped by another blow to the head. They lie motionless, but he isn’t done. Not after everything this person has done. Not after the pain they’ve caused. He wants to demask them, but they need to suffer first. Their identity could be revealed through denial records. He reaches the poker like a club for another swing, but the only thing that falls is the object itself  - and drops of his own blood. 

The echo or a gunshot still rings; Mike looking down at the hole in his stomach in disbelief. It didn’t hurt at first; shock running through his veins. As he sticks a finger against the hole, the pain finally hits. He didn’t even have time to cry out as more shots ripple through his body. He falls down next to the slasher who remained still.. Footsteps descend the stairs; stopping by his writhing form. There’s a scrap of metal as they pick the fire poker off the floor. Mike turns to see the new figure. A mask akin to the one worn by the person beside him stares back at him; the highlights in her hair a sign of her identity. 

“D….daina?”

Her eye twitches. She cracks Mike beside the heat like a baseball player hitting a home run. She hits him again and again; screaming at the top of her lungs. She hits him until he stops moving. Until the flesh of his cheek is peeled away and the bones beneath break into dust. She only stops when there’s a groan from the person next to him.

“You’re alive… I was so worried..”

She kneels down; the other party flinching away even if barely conscious. They wore a hockey mask with a pink heart drawn over its left eye; something mirrored on her own. A mask worn by the mannequin in her room. She goes to lift theirs, but they weakly slap her hand away.

“It’s okay…” She coos. “I know it’s you, Y/n.”

She tears the mask from your face, shuddering from the sight of your gorgeous face, and the look of pure hatred you held. 

“There you are… We should take a picture to remember this moment. Hang on.”

Daina pulls off her own mask, running a hand through her hair. Remembering she forgot to put on more lipstick, she drips her fingers in the pool of Mike's blood and wipes it over her lips; placing a kiss on your cheek afterwards. She holds two fingers behind your head and sticks out her tongue. After taking the photo, she types away on her phone before tossing it aside.”

“All done! Now if you try to kill me, your face will be leaked online in an hour. Good luck trying to guess my password!”

Mercy Valentine… Y/n. Who would have guessed that a timid college student was behind all this suffering? Daina White. That’s who. For She knew that they were the one suffering the most. 

During the end of middle school, sweet, shy little Y/n had received a love note in their locker one day. At rope’s end and tired of life’s hardships, it became their lifeline. More and more came, their heart soaring with each word. It was at the end of the year that their childhood crush confessed that she had been the one to write them; a smile just a pinch to sweet on her face.

The two began dating; the lovesick teen unaware of what their love said behind their back – the plans she and her friends had towards the end of the summer. A letter had been placed at their doorstep to meet by the lake on the edge of town; note switched a second before they opened the door.

They arrived just in time to see her body floating in the lake, and her bewildered friends at the scene. They all fled; leaving the broken hearted soul to try and save her on their own. All, but one. Had they been a little wiser. They would have noticed that the penmanship between their love and the author of the letters didn’t match. That someone else was watching them from the sidelines at her friend's side. That the heart drawn on their dead lover’s mask had eerie similarities to the ones the popular girl in class wrote on her notebooks.

They tried to tell authorities of what happened. That there was no way it was an accident. The caving in of her skull was proof enough. Unfortunately, everyone brushed it off and left them in the dark.

You remain silent. She cups your cheeks with a smile.

“You’re angry aren’t you, baby? You want to see the world and see on fire, don’t you? That’s exactly how I felt when that bitch tried to take you away from me. Watching her laugh next to you. Hold you in her arms. It was all a damn lie, and now I’m gonna tell you the truth.” 

She leans in, placing a bloodied kiss to your lips. “She never loved you, Y/n. It was all me, my sweet Valentine.”

Nat: Why have you been brushing me off?

You: Tony said I can't go on a day without being clingy to you, so I made a bet with him.

Nat: Come on-

You: *leaves*

*Night time*

Nat: Hmm, where are you going?

You: 'M sleeping on the couch tonight.

Nat: What, why? You've been brushing me off, and now I get to sleep without cuddles?

You: Clint has been bullying me. He said I can't sleep one night without you, so I made a bet with him too.

Nat, trying to pull the pillows and blankets from you: But I'll be lonely.

You: It's okay, it's just one night.

*You woke up at 2 a.m., with someone cuddling at your back*

You: What are you doing here?

Nat: I can't sleep without you, the bed is so cold and I just want your warmth.

You: Nooo, but I'll lose my bet.

Nat: It was a stupid bet anyway, I'll pay you your loss.

You: You're such a kid.

Nat: Oh, sure. I'm the kid.

Tw: female reader, nsfw, confinement, dub-con/non-con, sapphic

Oh, to be the housewife of a rich, well - respected business-woman.

She has it all - looks, money, charisma, success, and now she has you as well, locked away in her vacation villa, cooking and cleaning and making it feel like a home while she's leading her fast - paced corporate job.

She comes late into the evening, sighing softly as she makes her way to you. Diane hugs you from behind, burying her face in your neck - simply melting against you. You try to hide your unease as you silently apologize for the cold dinner once again, even though none of it is your fault. She just clicks her tongue playfully and smacks your ass - when she's feeling gracious, and shoves you against the kitchen counter when she's had a particularly bad day at work.

No matter what her mood is, she always finds a way to take her stress out on you. After all in her eyes you're there to serve her - her sweet little wife, all pretty in gowns, or flowery dresser, or even better naked and covered in gold from head to toe.

Her kisses are always rough and leave you breathless, trying to catch your breath. Her touch is restless and unyielding, hot, merciless fingers stroking and pinching and slapping and squeezing for hours on end. Diane loves to tie you up in various positions, helpless and immobilized to her wicked will. She can't resist laying you on her queen sized bed and stuffing you with a fat mean vibrator, your scared gasps and pained moans of overstimulated pleasure ringing in her ears like the sweetest tune of music.

And just when you're too exhausted to fight, yet too spent to keep squirming under the toy, she kneels before you, spreading you once again so that you can feel each torturous inch of her tongue and fingers as they slip in and out of your wet, tight hole.

Then she kisses your forehead gently - just like a ritual, before taking you into her arms and washing you throughoutly, never missing a creak. You cry out weakly one last time as she tuggs you into bed, and she pulls you so close you can feel the heat radiating off her body once she starts whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You try to stay on guard but eventually you fall asleep, embraced by silk and warmth.

Then the next day it all repeats again.

Fighting for dominance w yuki 🙏🏽

❤︎ ໋𓈒 trying to top yuki (you fail)

warnings. fem! reader, praise, doggy, dirty talk, she has a strap, petnames. mdni.

“oh. what’s this, baby?” yuki whispers, her eyes flicker towards your hovering body. her stare made you swallow. her legs remained spread, and she had a cunning grin tugging against his lips. she eyed your figure up and down before raising a eyebrow once you lightly shove her back. “you’re getting ahead of yourself. you’re gonna try to ride me?”

“yeah,” you utter, glancing down at her clear lengthy strap—you were already prepped, just barely getting over your last release from her eating you out.

as she tilted her head towards the side with a cheeky smile, you could still see some of your own slick running down her chin. “you don’t think i can?”

she giggles. “sweetheart, i never said that,” and she runs a hand across her thigh, watching you prepare to align yourself against the plump tip. “. . . although,” she breaks, teasingly staring off in the other direction, still manspread with her arms now stretched across the sides of the mattress. “i dunno, you couldn’t really take me if you tried. besides, you always end up tapping out.”

your eyes widen as you grew flustered before grumbling, “s-shut up.”

“aw. how ‘bout ya make me? otherwise i’ll just keep talking, princess.” she snickers, softly tracing her fingers down your waist just to get a reaction out of you.

she had the smuggest grin smeared on her face, watching you start to sink down on the strap-on.

“don’t hurt yourself now,” she giggles, eyeing you the entire time—you bit down on your lip, trying to suppress as much mind as you could, and she only simpers wider. “want me to hold your hand?”

“y-yuki,” you whined, putting a hand over her mouth. she playfully licks against your fingers, feeling you hover against the tip—you moan, your pussy gripping around the faux material before you jerked into her inwards. “stop talking.”

“not unless you make m—”

she gets cut off from the softness of your lips. you feel the smile still on his lips. she tastes sweet, candied even. yuki runs a hand down your hips as you gradually started to rut against her.

you ran your tongue against hers, tasting a tang of alcohol on her before you let off a whimper once she grips onto your ass.

she’s panting the more you deepened the kiss, she found it cute and you trying to show a bit more dominance—yet you were already failing. strands of her hair tickled against your skin the more your warm body heat made direct contact with hers.

the taste of her lip gloss had you hooked for more, the pure strawberry that resided against her lips. you moaned in your mouth before your hips started to pick up.

she briefly pulls away, a lustrous cobweb string of spit departing from your mouth and she stares at you.

“why can’t you look at me, princess?” she hums, grabbing ahold of your chin—you leer into her eyes before feeling butterflies swell in inside your tummy. she sneaks a wet kiss against your mouth as your hips rolled back and forth against her. “do i make you nervous?”

“no.” you immensely replied, feeling the continuously expand through your walls. it felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan all against her ear.

“no . . ?” she repeats, her tone was purely playful. yuki chuckles beside you before allowing her hands to roam all over your body—you shudder from the warmth of her touch before she whispers against your ear. “i’m a lot of things, sweetheart but i’m not an idiot,” and then she brings you close towards her chest.

you lean into her touch, thighs of yours rubbing against hers solely from your jagged body movements and she kisses near the inner part of your neck.

“you’re cute when you try to be all . . ” and she pauses for a moment, thinking of the word before tittering. “dominate.”

she studies your face, and you’re pouting. “pretty girl. don’t be so disappointed,” and she kisses you again — a quick kiss that never fails to leave you speechless everytime. “you want me to finish for you, hm?”

you sheepishly nod, stopping yourself from moving against the toy buried inside of you before she smiles, stroking your left cheek.

“at least you’re finally honest, baby,” she whispers, matching your pout before a small chortle leaves her lips. “c’mon, let’s do this the right way, yeah?”

she was so gentle—yet you found yourself pressed against the cushioned pillows, maintaining a swift arch and she towers over you even while being on her knees. yuki rubs a hand against your ass, caressing it as your cheek squished against the couch. “how do you want it, princess? tell me.”

“h-hard, yuki. jus’ make me cum.” you whined, not even caring anymore by this point.

“ooh,” she purrs, watching your back just go forward—your ass remained up and you were craving for her to inside again. you swallowed the nonexistent lump in your throat before feeling her gently prod the fat tip of the toy against your frontage. “say pretty please.”

you whine, wriggling your ass against the head part just for her to hurry up, “p-pretty please.”

“good girl,” she hums, her words went straight towards your cunt. you throbbed vigorously, aching for more of her touch. it wasn’t a want, it was a need. she’s slow as she starts to make her way inside again.

yuki lets off a soft groan, feeling you clamp down with such ease. once your thighs tapped against hers, she kissed her teeth before starting up a pace. “thaaaat’s it, baby. let me—let me take care of you.”

you moaned at the sweetness of her words, she was so deep—your eyes rolled back within seconds of her only delivering a few thrusts. she was tame yet grabbed both of your hips, slowly making sure you felt every inch.

“fuck,” she utters, hearing the sloppy squelches of your pussy voice all against her. yuki’s breathing started to become a bit raspy, quiet but very much raspy.

she always kept her eyes on your ass, she could never look away. the mere shape of it . . .

she ran her fingers across it while she’s fucking you dumb. such deep yet slow thorough strokes had you whining out her name loudly. she pulses from your words of pleasure everytime, but of course she never shows it.

this was all about you.

“you’re so pretty like this,” she hisses, bringing a few spanks to your ass to watch it jiggle—you whined, back arching a bit more for her and she playfully skims her hands down your spine to watch you jolt in pleasure. “how’s it feel, princess? lemme guess should i go harder?”

“p-please,” you squeak out, your head just mashed against the pillows.

she giggles, softly reaching down against your clit to create even more stimulation, earning out a surprised whimper from you.

“i know my girl well,” and then you feel her start to quicken up her hips. she’s reaching all the right spots, the angle was perfect. you felt the length of the toy continue to stretch out your pussy, leaving such a good taste in your mouth. “and to think you could have been topping me, hehe. we all start from somewhere, i guess.”

after a while you lost track of time, like most would.

you started to shake against her and she takes notice. yuki raises a brow before pressing all up against your ass, she’s fully inside and you moan at the warmth of her going against you. “is someone gonna cum? that why ya keep tryin’ to grab onto my leg, sweetheart—?”

the toy was so thick, your pussy made just as much noise as you did. cacophonies of mixed squelches that reverberated throughout the room. it felt so good . . . you clenched your jaw as you felt a hidden bundle of nerves make their way to stir you from the inside.

it’s a long pause as she’s still fucking you—you were a mess, strands of spit running down your mouth before she sings in a seductive tone, “well . . ?” she rubs a thumb against your bare ass whilst watching it jerk and move against her before she mutters. “if you want somethin’ from me, you gotta use your words. go on.”

“—wan’ cum, yuki,” you sniffled, your core was being filled with such inches. your ears rang and you could taste the sweetened orgasm on your tongue practically. “wanna cum, please. please let me c-cum . . ”

“good,” she hums cooingly. each praise she gifted you made you throb ten times more. you feel her grab your ass, scooting it directly towards her before she huffs out a single breath. “good girl. now give it to me, c’mon. don’t be shy. let go just for me, yeah.”

you moaned, feeling her pin your arms behind your back as she’s thrusting in and out of you.

instantly, you felt your legs intensely shake from the incoming rapture—you were simply dumb and close-mouthed. tongue tied even, your orgasm came crashing down on you and she watched as you’re just a mess, cute whines eliciting from your mouth.

your slick covered her faux base entirely, and she licks her lips while watching you ride it out—you panted, feeling her hips come to a stop before seconds later, she slowly pulls out. “aw. you’re so loud, baby. i told you.”

words of silence departed from your lips before she flips you over, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss. yuki’s rough hands gently danced against your skin as she pulled you close, only before you moan into her mouth once you feel her squeeze against your soaked pussy.

“all mine,” she whispers, breaking away to speak before she kisses against the side of your lip to stare you right in the eyes with such a dominant look. “who’s pretty pussy does this belong to, sweetheart?”

“yours, yuki.” you moaned, feeling her chest prick against yours—you felt so hot, in a good way. a smile goes on her lips before she nips at your neck in a playful manner.

“good girl, and it’ll stay that way,” she teases, soft eyes lingering at you for a few good seconds before she brushes a thumb over your wet lips. she leans in as if she’s about to kiss you again before she whispers against your lips. “unless you can ever prove me wrong, sweetheart.”

*y/n walks in covered in blood*

Wanda: *shocked* are you ok!?

Y/n: oh don't worry it's not mine. :)

*Natasha then walks in covered in blood*

*Wanda stares in horror at both girls*

Natasha: oh don't worry it's not mine either. :)

Wanda: THEN WHO'S IS IT?

Natasha and y/n: *awkward silence*

Wanda: guys who's blood is that?

Natasha and y/n: it's not ours.