#♡ ⤳ belly : threads ❜

[saltedair]

closed for @misteriios ( bea ! )

belly was doing her best to think about her studies and sitting down at the table with books in front of her to focus on everything. but her head kept wandering. she just needed to talk about something or anything or get her mind off of her school work for a bit before she could focus again. "so, what are you studying? or are you just one of the people who are reading for fun? which is totally cool, just not for me right now."

[simpingforstardew]

a mini cozy harvey smut would be amazing if possible ❤️ 🤭

no pressure of course!

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: one mini cozy harvey smut, coming right up~ just some fluffy smut, pretty much no plot ♡ i really hope you like it !!

warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader is described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader receiving).

word count: 1.3k

Sparrows chirp outside as rays of the spring sunrise filter through your sheer curtains, casting a golden glow into the room. Beneath the layers of yarn blankets enveloping the bed, you luxuriate in their comforting embrace, basking in the tranquillity of the early morning.

Beside you, Harvey stirs, stretching languidly while he haphazardly pushes the duvet off his body. As he arches his back slightly, the fabric of his white t-shirt obediently follows the movement, riding up to reveal a glimpse of his belly underneath and the happy trail that adorns his midsection. Your eyes follow the trail down to his green plaid boxers, hanging loosely on his hips.

“Darling, you’re staring.” Harvey whispered through a grin, his morning voice more gruff than usual; his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

You smile in spite of the blush that warms your cheeks, “I’m allowed, aren’t I?”

The doctor rubs his heavy eyes as a soft chuckle escapes his lips, “Shh, come here, you’re-,” A yawn interrupts him, “You’re so far away.”

“I’m only on my side of the bed, Harv,” You giggle, shuffling towards your boyfriend, “‘s not that far.”

He wraps you protectively in his arms, one hand lightly massaging your back while the other finds itself on the back of your head, pushing you comfortably into the warmth of his chest. Harvey’s chypre scent was just as comforting as the embrace. Your calloused fingers trace shapes into the skin under his t-shirt, trying to remember where each mole and freckle is.

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, looking up at him as another smile tugs on his lips.

“Of course, I just hope you know that I love you more.” He kisses your forehead. You still weren’t used to the tickle of his moustache.

You reach a hand up to caress his soft cheeks, while his viridescent eyes scan your face— as if he was memorising every feature. Harvey’s strong arms pull you impossibly closer as you stare at his mouth, your thumb delicately brushes along his lower lip.

Before you could tease him for the flush that was quickly colouring his cheeks, he leans down to kiss you.

His lips, soft and yielding, already carried the faint taste of coffee; it was intoxicating. A soft whine escaped his lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark hair, still tousled from sleep. Touching him feels like heaven; tasting him is like indulging in a forbidden fruit. It was the kind of adoration that devotees created worship for.

You hadn’t realized how desperately you needed this until this moment, a moment in which you two are the only people awake in the valley. Every sensation seems to converge into a single, overwhelming need for closeness.

Harvey’s large hand moves down to your thigh as it rests on his hip, tugging you desperately towards him, as he deepens the kiss. This kiss is nothing like your first just weeks ago: a gentle, yet nervous confession. This is carnally unrestrained; honest.

“Please I-,” the whispered plea slips out of your kiss bitten lips.

“Fucking insatiable,” Harvey chuckles softly, his lips still brushing against your own, before rolling to cage you between his arms. With your back now pressed against the plush sheets, Harvey took the opportunity to tug off his wrinkled t-shirt, fumbling with the hem before discarding it on the floor. With anybody else, at any other time in his life, perhaps he would have been too insecure to do so.

Harvey’s large frame hovers over you, his hand gentle on your neck as he leans in close. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers; you feel the warmth of his breath caress your ear, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me here— Please, I…” you beg, voice reduced to a hoarse whisper, “I need you, Harvey.”

He kisses down your neck, nipping just to see you squirm, as his hand caresses your chest beneath your t-shirt.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” he continues to praise you between kisses, marking your most sensitive areas as he makes his way down your body, “So pretty.”

As he shuffles down the bed, he lifts up your t-shirt to kiss your belly— blowing the occasionally raspberry in response to your embarrassed whines. You look down to see him comfortably snug underneath the duvet, kissing your inner thighs with delicate reverence before meeting your gaze.

“Hi.” he smiles, chuckling as he looks at you longingly.

“Hi.” you respond breathlessly, stroking the brunette waves of his hair. You involuntarily tighten your grasp when you feel the warmth of his breathe tease your clothed pussy; a sinful moan escapes his lips in response.

“Careful, darling,” Harvey exhales, “You don’t want me to come that fast, do you?”

Your breath hitches as you hopelessly buck your hips, feeling both of Harvey’s large hands reach to grab your ass “N-no, fuck— sorry.”

Your wetness soaks through your underwear as you feel Harvey’s deft fingers rub slow circles on your clit; his other hand moving to diligently massage your tense hips. Despite the doctor’s dominant act, you could feel him grinding against the soft mattress as he pants pathetically. He glances up with puppy dog eyes, through the hair that had cascaded down his face, to watch for your reactions.

“Do you-,” you whimper, interrupted by the increasing speed of your boyfriend’s fingers, “Do you want to fuck me, puppy?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything,” Harvey sits up, tugging off your underwear, “but right now, I need to taste you.”

Harvey is quick to begin lapping up your juices, occasionally moaning to send vibrations through your sensitive cunt. He is committed to satisfying every inch of your sex so much it almost overstimulates you. His hot mouth, his coarse moustache, his wet tongue, all determined to make you climax.

“So gorgeous for me like this, darling,” Harvey gasps; all you can do— all you want to do— is whimper and moan as you weakly grind against his face.

Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside you— the mess of your anticipation from Harvey’s unrelenting praise making the perfect lube. The delectable stretch just barely satisfies the heavy ache in your pussy; so you roll your hips in time with his digits as they slide in and out, hitting just the right spot. With his fingers fucking you, he continued to eat you out like a man starved. You spread your legs further when he pulls you closer to his face, resting one thigh on Harvey’s shoulder.

“Mmm, p-please.. Fuck—” your moans were becoming unintelligible, your boyfriend’s ministrations unravelling you completely, “Please, Harv’— I’m so close.”

Snapping your hips back and forth, Harvey’s nose nudges against your clit as he groans beneath you; you quickly came undone. As you stumble blissfully towards your release, your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls slack; wanton cries fill the room. You feel your legs continue to shake when Harvey pulls his fingers out, the absence of his touch making you whine.

“So good for me, I got you. There you go—,” Harvey soothes; as you open your eyes again, you’re greeted by the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers. His unwavering eye-contact leaving you breathless, “All for me.”

He makes his way back up the bed, bringing you back into his arms as you catch your breath; after a few moments, your light-headedness fades as you ground yourself in his embrace.

“Wait, Harv—” you mumble, “What time is it? You don’t have to be in the clinic today do you?”

“Shh, don’t you worry, Maru has everything sorted out for today,” he traces shapes in your back, almost lulling you back to sleep, “How about I get you some water while you go to the toilet, then I can make us some breakfast? Is that ok, honey?”

You nuzzle into his chest, nodding emphatically to his morning plans, “Sounds perfect.”

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

❥ Everyone in this is aged up/18+.

❥ Fem Reader

❥ Warnings; cursing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, soft! dom Tamaki, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex

Note; for the lovely anon requester, I super loved writing this, I love Tamaki — the soft dom version of him hits the spot.

Tamaki is, more often than not, tightly wound into a ball of nerves. Not to say he hasn’t gotten any better at being able to handle the reigns of his anxiety, because he certainly has.

It’s just, there’s always a small undercurrent of unease lingering in his belly. Making his pulse thunder, fingers shaking with unrestrained adrenaline each time he gets interviewed after a villain beat down.

He’s ashamed to admit that even when he’s with friends the unsettling sensation remains, albeit minutely. It creeps across the back of his mind, lurking in the shadows at all times.

That is, unless he’s with you, and now, with your baby girl too. Funnily enough, his hands were as steady as they’d ever been when he first held his little girl.

His heart didn’t race, he wasn’t choking to death on butterflies— okay well, those things were happening. Just not in an oh my god the sky is falling type of way. It was in an oh my god I love my family so much I’m gonna throw up scenario.

Tamaki was drowning in his feelings for the two of you, so much so that he definitely did burst into tears.

Tamaki’s sweet little Chiyoko is two years old now, and don’t get him wrong, he’s happy. But fuck — he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit he’s starting to get that itch again. The one that clouds his mind and turns his thoughts into a one track mind of I want a baby, I want a baby, I need to knock her up NOW —

Tamaki just really longs for another little one to raise, someone to teach how to be better than he ever has been. Another person he can completely be himself with, who he’ll love unconditionally. He’ll always strive to give his kids a better world than the one he grew up in.

Although, if he’s being honest, what really severed the pathetically thin thread that was left of his patience was when he came across what must’ve been the 10th pregnant woman while out on patrol today.

All Tamaki could keep picturing was you. With your belly so cute, so swollen and so so round with his baby.

An image involuntarily pops up behind his eyelids. It’s of your pretty face, your lower lip pushed out so sweetly in a pout, tits obscenely spilling over the top of your bra. Tamaki swallows, throat dry as cotton as he works to keep a steady pace while he walks the streets.

His cheeks are burning, a bubblegum pink flush taking over his skin. He can feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, all the way up to the pointy tips of his ears.

Tamaki frantically pulls the hood of his hero costume further down to obscure his face as his mind sharply turns down a much filthier path.

The vivid image and memory of you riding his cock when you were six months pregnant makes the muscles in his stomach clench in anticipation. He remembers how unbelievably tight your pussy was, how he was able to place his hands possessively on your belly as he gawked at the way you used his cock to make yourself cum.

Fuck, fuck, fuck — he craves the satisfaction of putting another baby into you so badly his balls ache.

His heart stutters when he realizes his cock is rapidly thickening against his inner thigh, hot and full.

Tamaki then urgently speed walks back to his hero agency as if he’s leaving a trail of fire behind him, because he’s pretty sure the stretchy spandex of his hero outfit is not going to hide his humiliating boner.

Later on that evening, after your daughter has fallen asleep, you find yourself with your hands bound to the metal slats of your headboard. A soft, smooth, silky material caressing your skin, and binding your wrists together above your head.

Your skin seems to be stretched too tightly over your bones, entire body flushing white hot as Tamaki traces the pads of fingers feather light over your bare breasts.

You’re both naked now, and he’s been playing with you for what feels like a lifetime. He’s been teasing you relentlessly as his thumbs delicately circle your nipples until they pebble up. Your pussy throbs in response.

“Tama,” you whine lowly, arching your spine as he grips your left tit playfully. You push further into his touch, craving so much more from your husband than he’s giving you. You twitch as his other hand traces your lower belly idly.

“Hm? Is this not enough for you my goddess?” Tamaki teases you with a soft voice, punctuating his words with another rough squeeze to your tit. He makes sure to pinch your nipple in between his fingers this time.

You bends your knees and let your thighs spread open even further to fit his lithe frame as you let out a breathy sigh.

“Fuck no, it’s not enough Tamaki,” you complain, irritation lacing your voice as you strain against the silk that ties you down. Goosebumps litter your arms when rests his warm palms over the bumps of your ribs, fingers splaying out just under the swell of your tits.

“No? My, that’s a bit bratty of you,” He reprimands, warm breath tickling over your skin as he presses a kiss to your sternum.

“Baby,” you say, asking for his attention. You tilt your head down to stare at him with wide eyes. “Please I want your mouth so bad.”

Slender fingers dig into your ribs, forcing a squeak out of you as it tickles you. Tamaki only hums, pressing a line of kisses down your soft belly, lowering himself onto his own as he makes his way to your pussy.

“Here?” Tamaki asks innocently before he kisses the sensitive area of your hip bone, sucking on the skin a little. Your hips twitch, trying to move his head to your pussy — which is starting to ache, puffy and slick from being so turned on.

“No,” you whimper, fingers curling into fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palms where you’re still tied up. Tamaki places his hands on the underside of your thighs, easily pushing them open further for him.

“Oh, so you must mean here?” He giggles, dipping his head to kiss the inner part of your thigh, close to the seam that connects to your groin. He nips at the skin there sharply, making you gasp.

“You know that’s not it Tamaki,” you huff, wiggling in place, frustratedly tugging at the silk yet again. Your shoulders start to ache and you have the insanely strong urge to tangle your fingers in his soft, purple hair.

Taking action, you maneuver your legs until you can rest your thighs over his shoulders, heels ready to dig into his upper back. He instinctively wraps an arm around your thigh.

He uses the other hand to brush his fingers through the small patch of curly hair you left above your clit. His cock twitches looking at it because it’s basically a neon sign pointing him straight down to your pretty pussy.

“I’m not quite sure what you want then baby,” Tamaki sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “Ya know, only good girls get what they ask for. You should use your words better, don’t you think?” He remarks thoughtfully, pinching your clit between his thumb and fore finger, trying to bite back his smile. One of his canines pokes out over his bottom lip.

“Tamaki!” You hiss, pressing upwards towards his mouth. The hero wraps both his arms around your thighs, halting your movement completely. “Fucking—Tamaki, please baby, I want you to eat my pussy,” you reluctantly beg, teeth grinding together in frustration.

“Oh! I see, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place? Such a good girl though, using your words,” Tamaki replies happily, brushing his warm lips over your clit when he speaks, and you could strangle the man right now.

His slick tongue is so close to your clit you have the urge to rip apart the silk tie and shove his face into you.

“Tamaki I swear, if you don’t — oh,” Your complaint is cut short. Your jaw falls open, fists clenching tightly when your husband’s tongue finally parts the lips of your pussy. Leisurely, he swirls circles into your clit, forcing a rush of warm shivers down your spine as he kitten licks at you.

“Oh my god Tamaki,” you keen, voice thick with pleasure. “Please don’t stop,” you plead, thighs threatening to suffocate him as you cross your ankles over his back.

He rewards you by sucking your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue up and down occasionally. He teased you for so long before that you’re already starting to feel an ominous knot tighten up behind your navel.

“Tama I wanna, oh!” Your breath hitches. “Fingers, want your fingers in my pussy, please!” You blurt urgently, tugging painfully at your restraints.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Tamaki hums, smoothly freeing himself from one of your thighs.

With no resistance, he slips his two middle fingers inside, stretching you just the way you needed him to. He thrusts and curls his fingers at a steady pace, never letting up the suction on your clit. His tongue teasing just under the hood and turning you in a pile of mush.

“Just like that, Tamaki please, I wanna cum,” you say desperately, tilting your head to look at him again and meeting his gaze. His eyes are half lidded, pale skin flushed. He’s so pretty it physically hurts.

The knot of your orgasm tightens frighteningly fast. Not to mention, just the sight of Tamaki between your legs is overwhelming.

The base of your skull digs into your pillow as the water balloon pops, your orgasm gushing through your limbs like heated honey.

Your mouth opens in a silent o shape as your entire body goes taught. Your back arches off the bed, pussy acting as a vice while you cum around Tamaki’s fingers. He makes sure to move fluidly with your hips as you roll them against his mouth.

Your husband pulls his mouth off your over sensitive clit with a pop, fingers still fucking the life out of you.

“Look at you, such a good girl, cumming on my fingers so sweetly,” Tamaki coos. His pink tongue pokes out to lick his shiny lips, moaning huskily at the taste.

After a few seconds, your body begins to melt back into into the mattress below. Your thighs releasing the death grip on his head. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, watching Tamaki push himself up with one hand, settling back on his haunches as he slides his fingers free.

“You’re too good at that,” you laugh, chancing a peak at your husband’s hard, leaking cock.

He’s got such a pretty dick. He’s thick and pale, sticking straight out, a pale pink at the tip. It twitches a few times under your praise, precum making the tip shiny. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you imagine licking him clean and swallowing him whole.

Tamaki smiles shyly down at you like he’s read your mind. To distract you, he rolls his thumb over your puffy clit, making you wince.

“I know you want to suck my cock, but I need to be inside you baby. Want me to untie your hands?” He asks lovingly, running the knuckles of his clean hand over your cheek. You nod, humming softly.

“Please,” you laugh, tugging on the silk for emphasis. He chuckles gently in return, leaning over to untie your wrists.

As he does, the warm, spongy tip of his cock glides through the mess he’s made of your pussy. Massaging your clit, and making you both moan. The weight of his cock making you feverish.

Tamaki’s eyes are intense as they stare into yours. He lets you free, hands hovering nearing your face. You pause, flexing your fingers, allowing the blood to flow through your veins. You can feel the tension smoldering deliciously between you both, about to blaze.

Hands plant themselves on either side of your head, and then Tamaki’s suddenly smashing his against yours. He tilts his head to the side as his lips meet yours over and over.

Your fingers finally weave through his soft hair, tugging on it roughly. He lets his sharp canines catch on your bottom lip in return, easily swallowing the moans he’s dragging out of you.

Tamaki breaks the kiss, sitting back on his heels. Your hands fall limply to your sides when he moves away. He places his palms on your inner thighs, pushing them wide open. You let out a sound of protest, lower lip jutting out. He bites the tip of his tongue, looking amused.

“Don’t pout my queen, I know what your pussy really wants,” he says, lightly slapping your clit. You jolt in surprise, fingers fisting the soft material of the sheets.

“Yeah — okay, please fuck me,” you agree, feeling sweat bead up in the hollow of your throat.

“I’m gonna stuff you to the brim princess,” Tamaki says, voice airy but eager. He uses one hand to keep you spread, the other gripping the base of his shaft as he pushes the tip of his cock inside you His jaw clenches at just how tight, how perfect you are.

“I know Tama, c’mon, I want to make you a daddy again,” you urge him, wolfish grin pulling at your lips. Tamaki pauses, blinking at you in surprise with a rapidly forming blush. Said man raises an eyebrow, slipping the rest of his cock in without any warning. It punches a strangled sound from your lungs as you grip your pillow for leverage.

“My queen’s got a filthy mouth,” Tamaki croons, hooking your knees over his elbows — effectively folding you into a pretzel as leans forward, hands braced by your shoulders this time. “It’s hot,” he giggles. The glare you level him with holds no heat behind it.

He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls his hips backwards halfway, before thrusting forward smoothly and filling you completely. You grip his shoulders, head falling backwards into the mattress. His cock is so so good.

“You feel amazing,” you tell him with a moan. The glide of his cock inside you is fucking perfect every time, splitting you open just the way you love.

“Yeah? Your pussy fits me like a glove princess, it drives me crazy,” Tamaki pants, warm breath ghosting over your face. He’s drinking up your reactions as if he’s never had a drop of water in his life.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, hanging onto his muscled forearms now. “Harder,” you tell him, your face scrunching up as your eyes flutter shut. All you can focus on is the way he slides in and out of you, carving out a space for himself.

“Yes baby, you take me so well. You’re so pretty like this,” Tamaki praises low and smooth like butter. He gives you what you want, curling hips up slightly so he can hit your g-spot spot dead on.

Your nails create crescent shapes in his forearms, spine rising off the bed as much as you can in this folded position. Your blood is buzzing, eyes rolling so far back into your skull you’re afraid they’ll get stuck.

“Tamaki!” You sob. “I can — oh my god, feels like you’re in my guts.” Your legs flex over his elbows, his strength keeping you pinned however he chooses.

“It’s called a mating press for a reason baby,” Tamaki huffs a laugh, his eyebrows pinching together as the sound of his pelvis smacking your ass pushes him closer to the edge.

Tamaki makes you cum this way multiple times. Enough to make you see stars, hearing going fuzzy as you notice your hips start to ache. Then you’re begging him to cum inside you— making his cock jerk excitedly.

“I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to see you cum on my cock like this princess,” he says, as if in awe of the very sight of you.

Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer as he starts throbbing repeatedly, the way you’re suffocating him makes his brain mushy.

“Tamaki,” you murmur, hands reaching up to frame his face. “Cum inside me,” you demand, bringing his face down to kiss his jaw.

“I can’t wait to see your belly stretched with my baby again, you’re such a good mama,” he coos softly, turning his head so you can kiss his neck. You lick a stripe up his neck, tasting the salty sweat there and he groans. “Fuck, m’gonna cum, you’re made to take my cock, made to give me babies,” Tamaki babbles, thrusting shallow and desperate.

The tiny, rhythmic squeezes of your pussy are enough to push him over the edge, because suddenly he’s shoving his cock inside you entirely. The curly, coarse hair at his base tickling your skin.

Tamaki’s cock twitches relentlessly, stuffing you with small thrusts until he’s sucking in air through his teeth when he gets overstimulated.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to your chest as Tamaki drops your legs. You sigh in relief, feet tingling as you crack your toes. The two of you catch your breath for a moment, hearts thundering.

Eventually, your husband rises, forcing you to drop your hands to the bed once again. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulls out of you slowly, admiring the sticky, white cum coating his cock.

He groans as he tracks the way his cum trails out of you. Before he can think better of it he drags a thumb over your pussy, gathering a bit of it and wrapping his lips around his thumb to suck it off.

“Tamaki!” You gasp, mildly scandalized and cheeks burning furiously from the nasty sight.

“I wanted a taste,” he says nonchalantly, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop.

A startled laugh slips from your lips and then Tamaki is infected with it, laughing along with you. You both giggle as he lays down on his side, facing you. He places a hand on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his, resting your hands on your sternum.

“You’re lucky we didn’t wake up Chiyoko,” you scold him, halfhearted in your attempt. He just smiles, eyes shining as he laughs.

“I would’ve put her back to bed,” Tamaki appeases, squeezing your hand playfully. You hum, content enough with his answer to relax and enjoy the post orgasm glow.

“I can’t wait to be pregnant again,” you admit in a hushed voice, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you always are,” Tamaki whispers so sweetly it’s tooth rotting.

The two of you bask in each others company for a bit longer, daydreaming about the baby you hope you’ve just you created before you do anything else.

[nyrasvoid]

Through Love and Sorrow

♡︎ Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

𖤓 Summary: After the joy of expecting their first child is shattered by a devastating miscarriage, Gwayne Hightower returns home to find his wife consumed by grief.

⚝ Warnings: Angst, Miscarriage, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy Insecurities, Emotional Trauma.

⚝ A/N: this fic also includes a kinda mother-son relationship between reader and Daeron,btw sorry I haven’t posted anything in like two weeks lmao

-Word count: ≈4.4k

This fanfic is a request from a while ago (link)

You sat in your room, the sunlight pouring through the tall windows. Your hands moved skillfully with the needle and thread, working on a small attire—a delicate onesie you had lovingly made for your child, your first with Gwayne.

As you finished the final stitch, you glanced at the door, eager for Gwayne’s return. You had planned carefully how to share the wonderful news with him, and now the moment had arrived.

The door creaked open, and Gwayne stepped in, looking tired but his face brightening when he saw you. “My love,” he greeted, coming over to kiss your cheek. “You look especially happy today. What’s going on?”

You smiled and took his hand, guiding him to sit beside you. “I’ve been working on something,” you said. “And I want to show you.”

Gwayne watched as you pulled the small onesie from behind your back and placed it in his hands. His brow furrowed for a moment in confusion before realization dawned on him. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and excitement.

“Is this…?” he started, his voice full of wonder.

You nodded, unable to keep the smile from your face. “Yes, Gwayne. We’re going to have a babe.”

He stared at you for a moment, the onesie still in his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

Then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, laughing with joy. “A babe! We’re going to have a child!” His voice was full of emotion, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face in your neck. “Gods, I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You laughed with him, feeling the warmth of his love surround you. He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you deeply, then gently placed his hand on your belly. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, as he got on one knee to kiss your barely swollen belly

“We’ll have a little one running around soon, with your beauty and wit,” Gwayne continued, his voice thick with emotion as he caressed your belly, where your child was beginning to grow. “We’ll teach them everything—how to ride, how to wield a sword, everything. I’ll be by your side through it all.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “And I’ll make sure they know how to be kind and strong, like their father.”

Gwayne laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with the kind of happiness that made your heart swell. “And stubborn like their mother, I’m sure.”

The days following the joyful news were some of the happiest of your life. Gwayne was attentive and loving, always making sure you had everything you needed, always talking about the future and the life you would build together. But as time went on, you began to be more worried and insecure.

The other ladies at court had spoken to you, sharing their experiences with childbirth—how their bodies had changed, how their husbands had sometimes seeked comfort elsewhere during those vulnerable weeks after the birth. They’d laugh softly, as if it were just a fact of life, but their words dug deep into your mind, planting seeds of doubt and fear.

You found yourself pulling away from Gwayne, unsure of how to voice your fears. He would come to you with that familiar smile, eager to talk about the babe or to spend time with you, but you would turn away, offering only brief responses, avoiding his touch.

It was not that you loved him any less—if anything, your love for him had only grown deeper—but the fear of losing him, of not being enough, was paralyzing.

One night, as you lay beside him in bed, the silence stretched on longer than usual. Gwayne finally turned to you, concern evident in his voice. “Darling, what’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Have I done something to upset you?”

You stared up at the ceiling, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to reveal the insecurities that had taken hold of you. But Gwayne was insistent, turning onto his side and taking your hand in his. “Please, my love. Talk to me.”

The words came slowly, hesitantly, as you struggled to express your feelings. “I… I’ve heard the other ladies at court talk,” you began, whispering.

“About how their bodies changed after childbirth, how they couldn’t… couldn’t be with their husbands for weeks, sometimes longer. And how their husbands…” You swallowed hard, unable to finish the thought.

Gwayne’s grip on your hand tightened as he waited for you to continue, his eyes fixed on your face, his worry deepening.

“They said their husbands sought comfort in other women,” you finally confessed, your voice breaking. “In whores. And I—I’m afraid, Gwayne. I’m afraid that I’ll change, that I won’t be… enough for you anymore. That you’ll look elsewhere.”

For a moment, there was silence. You didn’t dare look at him, too ashamed of the words you had spoken. But then Gwayne did something you didn’t expect. He started to laugh—a soft, warm chuckle that caught you off guard.

You turned to him, confused and a little hurt. “Gwayne, this isn’t funny—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said quickly, his laughter fading as he saw the tears in your eyes. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead. “It’s just… the thought of me with anyone else is absurd. My love, you are my heart, my soul. There is no one in this world who could ever compare to you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a gentle kiss. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone serious now. “You are the only woman I want, the only woman I will ever want. The idea of seeking pleasure in someone else when I have you is ridiculous. Those other men—they’re fools. I would never betray you, never.”

You felt a rush of relief at his words, though the doubt still lingered. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” Gwayne interrupted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I swear to you, on every star in the sky, that I will never stray. And if any man tells you differently, I’ll knock his teeth out.”

A small laugh escaped you, despite yourself. Gwayne grinned, his eyes twinkling as he saw the smile return to your face. “See? There’s that smile I love so much. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, and we’re going to be a wonderful family. No matter what changes, I’ll be right here, by your side.”

That night, the two of you found solace in each other, and as you drifted off to sleep, you felt the fears that had plagued you begin to disappear, replaced by the strength of your bond and the love you shared.

---

A few weeks later, you, Gwayne, and Daeron sat at the dining table, enjoying a simple meal. Daeron was telling you about his day, his young face alight with enthusiasm as he described his lessons and adventures. You smiled fondly at him, listening intently as he spoke about a new bird he had seen in the gardens.

“And then it swooped down, right in front of me! I almost thought it would land on my shoulder like the falcons do on their keepers,” Daeron said, eyes wide with excitement.

Gwayne chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. You laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze Daeron’s hand. “You’re already quite the little adventurer. Perhaps one day you’ll ride with your uncle on his journeys.”

Daeron’s face lit up at the thought, and he looked eagerly at Gwayne. “Will you take me with you one day, Uncle?”

Gwayne smiled, “One day, certainly. But I’m afraid I have to leave again in three days’ time for an important matter in Blackcrown. I’ll only be gone for a month, maybe less.”

You felt a pang of worry at his words, though you did your best to hide it. You had hoped he wouldn’t need to leave again so soon, but you understood the responsibilities that came with his position. “Just promise me you’ll be back well before the babe is due,” you said. “I don’t want to have to deliver without you.”

Gwayne took your hand across the table, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’ll be back in plenty of time, I promise. Nothing could keep me from being here for you and our child.”

Daeron looked between the two of you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. “You’ll come back safe, right, Uncle?”

“Of course, Daeron,” Gwayne replied with a warm smile. “I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

True to his word, Gwayne departed three days later. You and Daeron saw him off, Daeron clutching his uncle’s hand until the very last moment, and you pressing a kiss to Gwayne’s lips, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in your heart. As Gwayne rode away, you couldn’t help but feel a little sadness, but you reminded yourself that he would be back soon, that everything would be alright.

In the days and weeks that followed, you busied yourself with preparations for the babe. You spent hours knitting tiny clothes and blankets, imagining the child that would soon be in your arms. Daeron often kept you company, helping you with small tasks or just sitting nearby, chatting about his day.

One afternoon, you decided to take a walk in the woods with Daeron. The two of you had grown close over the years, and you cherished the bond you shared. As you walked along the familiar paths, Daeron spoke of his lessons.

“Auntie,” he began after a moment of comfortable silence.

Just as you were about to respond, a sharp, sudden pain shot through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You gasped, clutching at your belly as the pain intensified, bringing you to your knees.

“Auntie?” Daeron’s voice was laced with panic as he rushed to your side. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

The pain was unbearable, radiating through your entire body. You could barely find the words, but you managed to gasp, “Daeron, get help. Quickly.”

Daeron hesitated, his face pale with fear, but then he nodded. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, I’ll get help.” With that, he sprinted back toward the keep, his small legs carrying him as fast as they could.

You were left alone in the woods, the cold earth beneath you as the pain continued to wrack your body. You knew, deep down, that something was terribly wrong. Fear gripped you as you realized you might be losing the baby. Your heart ached with the thought, but there was nothing you could do except wait.

By the time help arrived, the miscarriage had already happened. The maids and guards who found you tried to help, but the damage was done. The life that had been growing inside you was gone, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness.

Ignoring the advice of the maesters, who urged you to rest and be carried back to the keep, you walked on your own, numb to the world around you. The only thing on your mind was the baby you had lost and how Gwayne would react when he found out. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment in his eyes, even though you knew it wasn’t your fault.

Once you reached the keep, you went straight to the nursery. The small room that had been filled with so much hope and joy now felt empty and desolate. You sat down on the edge of the small bed, your hands trembling as you picked up the half-finished blanket you had been knitting for the babe.

Days passed in a blur. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave the nursery or eat. The maids came and went, offering food and kind words, but you paid them no mind. The world outside the nursery seemed to fade away, leaving you alone with your grief.

Daeron was the only one who could get through to you, even if just a little. He would visit you every day, sitting beside you and talking about anything and everything. His presence was a small comfort, a reminder that you were not entirely alone, even in your darkest moments.

One afternoon, Daeron came to the nursery as usual. He looked at you with concern. “Auntie, you have to eat something. The maesters say it’s important. Uncle Gwayne wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

You shook your head, still clutching the blanket. “I’m not hungry, Daeron. I just… I can’t.”

Daeron sighed, sitting down beside you. “I know you’re sad. I miss the babe too, even though I never got to meet them. But Uncle Gwayne will be back today. Maybe… maybe he can help you feel better.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your grief pressing down on you. But Daeron’s words lingered in your mind. Gwayne was coming home. You weren’t sure how you would face him, how you would tell him about the baby, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it forever.

Daeron leaned in and gave you a hug, his small arms wrapped around you tightly. “I love you, auntie. And Uncle Gwayne does too. Don’t forget that.”

His simple words brought tears to your eyes, and you hugged him back. “I love you too, Daeron. Thank you.”

Daeron smiled up at you, his eyes full of warmth and understanding. He squeezed your hand before standing up to leave. “I’ll go and make sure everything is ready for Uncle Gwayne’s return. I’ll come back later, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he left the room. Alone again, you stared down at the blanket in your lap, running your fingers over the soft fabric. You had poured so much love into this tiny piece of cloth, and now it felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost.

Hours later, you heard footsteps approaching the nursery. Your heart clenched with a mix of dread and longing. The door creaked open, and Gwayne entered, his expression filled with concern and urgency.

“My love?” His voice was soft, but it was filled with worry. He rushed to your side, kneeling before you as he gently took your hands in his. “Daeron told me… told me what happened.”

The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, and you couldn’t stop them. “I lost the babe, Gwayne,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry.”

Gwayne’s eyes filled with pain, but he quickly pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you wept. “Shh, it’s not your fault, my love. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked your hair.

“I feel like I failed you,” you sobbed, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “I couldn’t protect our child…”

Gwayne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with unwavering love and determination. “Love, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You could never fail me, and this… this is not your fault. It was beyond our control, and I don’t blame you for a single moment.”

You searched his face, looking for any hint of disappointment or anger, but all you found was love and compassion. He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “We’re still young, my love. We have time, and we will have children—many, I hope. But right now, all that matters is you. I’m here for you, and we’ll get through this together.”

His words were like a balm to your wounded heart, easing some of the pain that had consumed you. You nodded, resting your head against his chest as you let out a shuddering breath. “I love you, Gwayne,” you whispered.

“And I love you,” he replied, holding you tightly. “More than anything in this world. We will get through this, I promise you that.”

Gwayne held you close for what felt like an eternity, letting you cry, letting you release the pain you’d been holding onto since the miscarriage. His presence was a steady comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone, that he would be there for you no matter what.

After a long while, Gwayne pulled back slightly, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. “Come, my love,” he said gently. “Let’s get you out of here. We don’t have to stay in this room. We can go anywhere you’d like—anywhere that will bring you peace.”

You hesitated, looking around the nursery. The room had once been a place of joy and anticipation, but now it felt suffocating, a reminder of the loss you had suffered. You nodded slowly, realizing that staying here would only prolong your grief.

“Alright,” you whispered, letting him help you to your feet. You wavered slightly, still feeling weak, but Gwayne was there to steady you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

As you left the nursery together, you found yourself leaning on Gwayne more than ever before. He didn’t mind, guiding you gently through the halls of the keep, away from the place that had brought you so much pain. He led you to your chambers, where a fire had been lit, casting a warm, comforting glow over the room.

Gwayne helped you sit by the fire, then knelt beside you, taking your hands in his again. “You don’t have to be strong right now,” he said softly. “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded, too drained to argue, too weary to pretend that you could handle this on your own. Gwayne stayed by your side, talking to you quietly, telling you stories from his travels, stories meant to distract you, to bring a small smile to your face. He was patient, understanding, never pushing you to talk about the miscarriage, but always offering comfort in whatever way he could.

A few days later, when you had gathered enough strength to leave your chambers, Gwayne took you out to the gardens. The air was crisp, and the scent of blooming flowers filled your senses. It was a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the keep.

As you walked together, Gwayne kept his arm around you, his presence a steady reassurance. You were quiet for a while, lost in your thoughts, but eventually, Gwayne broke the silence.

“Do you remember the first time we walked through these gardens?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You looked up at him, nodding slowly. “I do. You tried to impress me with your knowledge of every flower and plant.”

He chuckled softly. “And I failed miserably, didn’t I? You knew more about the flowers than I did.”

“You were charming, though,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I fell in love with you that day.”

Gwayne’s smile widened, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. “And I’ve been falling in love with you every day since.”

As you continued to walk, you felt some of the tension ease from your shoulders. The pain of losing the babe was still there, and you knew it would take time to heal, but with Gwayne by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Later that evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, Gwayne brought out a small wooden box. “I have something for you,” he said, his tone soft, almost hesitant.

You looked at him curiously as he handed you the box. When you opened it, you found a delicate necklace inside, the pendant a small, intricately carved locket.

“It belonged to my mother,” Gwayne explained. “She gave it to me before she passed, and I’ve kept it all these years. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at the beautiful locket, your heart swelling with emotion. “Gwayne, it’s beautiful,” you whispered.

He took the locket from the box and fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so. “I wanted you to have something that reminds you that you’re never alone,” he said, his voice filled with tenderness. “Whenever you feel lost, or when the grief feels too much, just remember that I’m here, and that I’ll always be here.”

You touched the locket, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingers, and nodded. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ll treasure it always.”

Gwayne smiled, as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss that was filled with the promise of a future together, a future that, despite the loss you had endured, would still be full of love and hope.

In that moment, you knew that with Gwayne by your side, you could face whatever challenges life threw your way. The grief would not disappear overnight, and the road to healing would be long, but you would walk it together, hand in hand, and eventually, you would find peace.

P.S: i’m sorry my paragraphs look so separated but I have bad eyesight and I can’t read it well if I don’t separate lmao

[moremaybank]

jj who worships you when he finds out that you're insecure about your body post-pregnancy

warnings mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, hellaaa praise and reassurance bc jj's obsessed with you (and rightly so), dirty talk/language, use of daddy (lol), implied creampie requested here by my baby @everydaydreamer ♡︎

"suck for me, beautiful."

jj's breath is hot against the shell of your ear, eliciting goosebumps over your skin. his fingers probe at the seam of your lips, urging you to welcome them inside and coat them with your spit. he coos a hushed good girl when you followed his instruction, feeling your tongue roam as you lapped at them. when he deems them wet enough, his touch finds your clit and starts to trace circles on it.

"never meant to neglect you, mama," he begins, eyes finding yours in the mirror in front of you both. his chest is warm against the cool bare skin of your back, and you gladly receive the heat. it reminds you that he's here, that he's finally taking the time to worship you the way you've been dying for. his free hand migrates to your tits, taking equal turns in massaging them. he pinches your left nipple, revelling in your soft moan. "was jus' tryna respect the doctor's wishes...but if you're walkin' 'round here thinkin' i don't want you, then i'm not doin' my job right."

your head starts to dip as more and more pleasure pulsates throughout your body. you're forced to grip the edge of the bathroom counter when he applies more pressure to your achy bud, the marble cold beneath your touch.

"uh-uh, eyes open. want you to see how sexy you look when i touch you." his hand abandons your tit and wraps around your throat. it eases your gaze back onto the mirror. "there we go. you got it, mama. beautiful."

"want your mouth, j. will y'give it to me?"

jj dots wet kisses on the nape of your neck. "'course, mama. know i love tastin' you."

he releases you, rounding your body and putting space between you and the counter. he slowly drops to his knees, leaving kisses down the length of your torso until he's face to face with your core. he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing himself to get a better view.

"there's my girl," jj smiles. heat pools in your lower belly when he feathers a wet kiss onto your clit. you flinch, and jj smirks up at you. "sensitive, huh?"

"your fault for making me wait so long. don't do that again."

he nods at your orders. "y'got it, sugar."

his lips return to your skin, moving up your front to your stomach, then to each of your hips. when his mouth leaves pecks of love over your stretch marks, he grips onto you tighter.

"see these? these...they make me crazy, baby. so fuckin' sexy." he bites at the flesh, dull teeth grazing over the tiger stripes fueling his fire. "you're a superhero, y'know that? so proud of you for growin' my baby in here."

his mouth wandered to your navel, travelling south as he brought his face back down to your leaky cunt. "my lil' warrior princess. love you, mama."

you let out a gasp, a whine following when his lips curl around your clit. "mm, love you, j."

he sucks at you, holding your bud hostage in his mouth as he works at it with his tongue. pride washes over him when you thread a hand through his hair and start to buck your hips against his mouth, craving more than what he's giving you. but jj knows you, sometimes better than he knows himself. you don't even get to ask for his fingers, he just takes it upon himself to slip his middle two fingers into your soaking heat.

his mouth leaves you, forming a smirk as he looks up at you. "drippin' all over my hand. missed me, huh?"

"you know i did."

a soft laugh escapes his lips before he buries his face back into you. your cunt continues to drench his chin and his hand, squelching with each push into.

"gonna cum," you warn. he nods, humming into you as he shakes his head back and forth. his fingers curled into your sweet spot, punting rapidly as he tries to pull your orgasm from you. of course, it doesn't take long because by now he's mastered his way around your body. he damn well knew how to make it work for him.

you cum with a cry, feeling your cunt throb violently as he laps up every last bit of the cream pooling from you.

once you've come down, he wastes no time stripping naked and wrapping you in his arms, carrying you to your bed and laying you down. the comforter is cool against your skin, and it isn't until jj's hands drag down your body that you begin to feel warm again.

"lemme do all the work, alright? you jus' lay there 'n relax for daddy. sound good?"

"so good," you breathe, sinking into the bed.

he lifts your legs, hands cupping the backs of your knees as he bends you to his will. you instinctively take his place when he moves to grip himself at the base. one hand settles on the back of your thigh, and he lines himself up with your entrance, eyes looking back up into yours for a moment.

"you ready, mama?"

you nod desperately. "need your cock, j. please."

"whatever you want, babygirl. s'real cute, but y'never gotta beg. know i'll never say no to my queen."

he gets you both into mating press, and his mushroom tip presses at your hole. sinking inside you slowly, he releases a shaky breath, feeling his muscles tense. it's been so long since he's been inside you, and your walls are sucking him in so tight. they're fluttering around him, stretching nice and wide to accommodate his width.

"fuck. missed you, mama. don't know if i'll last."

he drags himself out, and then pushes back inside. it takes him a few beats as he wills himself not to blow his load already, but he then finds a pace that knocks the wind out of you. he slams into you over and over, each thrust pushing a moan up your throat.

he watches you intently as he fucks you, like you're the best movie he's ever seen. tousled hair and wet parted lips. the cries pouring from your mouth as you call out for him. how could you ever think that he wouldn't want you?

"so fuckin' perfect, angel. nothin' could ever make me not want you. nothin'. y'understand?"

all you can do is nod, hands clutching at his biceps. your nails bite into his skin as you hold onto him for dear life.

"good. don't wanna hear you say anythin' bad 'bout yourself again. loved seeing you all knocked up. everyone knew how good i was dickin’ you down," he told you. he leans his forehead against yours, eyes peering into your orbs as he pummels his cock into you. "i'll always want you. if you need this cock, you jus' tell me 'n i'll give it to you real good. alright, mama?"

"yes, daddy. fuck."

"yeah. good. been missin' this tight pussy, baby. s'been killin' me."

he jackhammers his hips harder into the spot that has you on the edge of bliss. "mm, j...right there!"

"yeah?" he asks, slamming his hips into you. "right there, angel?"

"yes. yes!"

"fuck, you're so beautiful. my pretty baby. keep takin' this big cock for me." he kisses your forehead, littering loving pecks upon your skin while he fucks you hard. "yeaaah. that's it. squeeze me, mama. make me cum. fuck."

your walls grip onto him like a vice, as if he's the only thing giving them life — and he is.

"harder. harder, j! gonna cum!"

jj's body leans over your frame. his hands leave their resting place and guide yours above your head. they slip over yours, before your fingers lace together. his breath fans over lips when he tells you he's close.

"gonna give you all this fuckin' cum, mama. cum with me. give it to me, baby."

and let's just say, after he's done with you, you never doubt him or his desire for you ever again.

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[saltedair]

continued from here for @devilsmenu

"and what if the i'm just worried it won't work out?"

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Kyojuro with a breastfeeding kink <3

Oh Anon you're so right <3

cw: Breastfeeding kink, pregnant reader.

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Kyojuro always had an obsession with your boobs.

Wasn't too surprising- a lot of men liked boobs.

But he was really- really obsessed with your tits. When you were dating and he'd come back from a long day of slaying demons, his favorite way to de-stress was to just lie down with you, your breasts bare and ready for him to snuggle up against, practically drooling when he finally took a nipple into his mouth. He'd suckle on you like a baby, the pressure differentiating as he'd suck like he was trying to milk you- like he was eager for a drink of something. He would suckle on one nipple for hours if you'd let him and even better, if you'd jerk him off at the same time.

While having sex, he'd always shower your breasts with attention. Whether it's groping or pinching or sucking or biting- a passionate night with Rengoku will always leave your nipples sucked raw and hickies marking your skin.

His obsession with your tits increased ten fold once you got pregnant, your breasts now full and swollen, getting milk ready for when your child would arrive. Your now husband just couldn't leave you alone. Forget the fact that he loved seeing you pregnant, belly getting bigger with each passing week, but seeing your breasts grow bigger and heavier got him more turned on than you could ever imagine.

He loved it when you complained about how uncomfortable you felt with such heavy breasts as it was the perfect opportunity to do what he loved: Suckle your nipples for hours and drinking up your milk~ He'd suck and suck and suck, ignoring the soreness of his jaw as his desire to taste you overtook any semblance of a rational thought. Only when you complain about being sore or if he drank all the milk of one breast already, will he switch over to your other nipple. He won't let a single drop go to waste. If he squeezes you with his hands and some milk spurts out, he's quick to lap it up, cock hardening at the slightest taste.

"H-Honey..." you said, threading your fingers through your mans flaming hair, tugging it as he gave you a particularly harsh suck, making your body shiver, "Once our baby is here- you can't keep drinking my milk, OK?"

The two of you were in bed, your back leaning against the headboard with your legs spread to accommodate for your husband. Your yukata was undone enough for your torso to be bare for him, Rengoku making sure to be careful of your belly as he lied on top of you, sucking your nipples. You could feel his hard cock press against your thigh, the man lightly humping you as he enjoyed himself. He growled against your skin, taking a few second to suck and gulp down the milk before separating from you. Your nipple was sucked raw, hard and covered with saliva, a drop of white at the tip.

"...they can share."

[tightjeansjavi]

Mornin’ Sunshine

A/N: this is a result of my post horny thots so you’re welcome! ♡ ♡ definitely in the realm of self indulgent hehe.

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: early morning slow sensual fucking with Joel Miller

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! Reader

Warnings: smut with no plot, consent, unprotected piv (please wrap it b4 u stick it) slow sex, mutual pleasure, handjob, pussy play, creampie, Joel is such a passionate lover, nipple play, edging, praise kink, pet names, hella chemistry between Joel and the reader, he’s in love love, domestic Joel, soft! Joel, caring! Joel!, he just wants to make sure you cum first! Joel, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, mood board is just used to set the vibe, NSFW (+18) minors dni!

Main Masterlist

If there’s one thing that Joel Miller loves to indulge in as he adjusts to living a domestic life again, it’s you. More specifically; early mornings with you tangled in his sheets, thighs still sticky with yours and his cum from the night before simply because you were too worn out to clean up properly. That’s how he likes it, filthy. Raw. Sensual. He likes being able to dip his hand down between your thighs and gather up your pooling arousal between his calloused fingers. The scent of sex still lingers in the hazy early morning air as his arm drapes around your waist, and tugs you firmly against his chest.

You can feel his wiry patchy beard lightly scraping against the thin skin against your neck as he presses soft open mouth kisses, humming as he breathes out through his nose. Your legs are tangled together under the thick quilt, and he knows you’re beginning to awake from your deep slumber when he feels you reach for his hand, threading your fingers over the top of his.

He’s grinning against your skin, nibbling playfully on the shell of your ear with his teeth. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your lower back. You love it when he wakes up immediately desiring you. Although, how could he not? Your beauty shone both on the inside and within.

He slowly rolls his hips forward, letting out a soft pathetic grunt when you gently push your ass back against him. “Mmm. Good morning to you too..” your voice is sticky with sleep, raspy, yet softer than his.

“G’mornin’ sunshine.” He croons. His voice dips down an octave sending a flush of arousal between your thighs. You’ll never get tired of his thick Texas twang. It’s buttery smooth with a hint of smoke and spice. It drips like sticky sweet caramel, and sets a fire deep within your belly like a splash of whiskey does.

The covers begin to rustle and bend as his hand curves around your hip, he gently squeezes as his hips roll forward once more. “D’ya want me sweetheart?” His question sends your thighs clenching together tightly as you suppress a moan from slipping out.

“Always.”

Pleased with your response, and mutual eagerness, his hand slowly slips from your hip, and down to the cleft of your ass. You're wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton panties as the rough pads of his fingertips gently stroke you through the thin fabric. His eyes are blissfully closed as he feels the dampness pooling. It brings him a sense of pride knowing that he’s gotten you this wet, and he’s barely touched you.

“S’wet.” He hums sweetly into the spot just below your ear, leaving more open mouth feather light kisses. “S’all f’me?” He knows it is, he just likes it when you boost his ego.

“All for you Joel.” You let out a soft-sweet sigh as a smile graces your features. Your arm slowly reaches behind you, fingers finding their way into his soft bed head. He loves it when you play with his hair, especially when your nails scratch against his scalp. He doesn’t even have to ask; your nails are already gently scratching his scalp. He loves it. He lets you know with a soft grunt. It rumbled from deep within his chest before passing through his parted lips.

He scoots his hips back slightly as his hand that was presently toying with you, was now slowly pushing his boxers down over his hips. He sighs as his heavy cock springs free. The bulbous head is weeping with a bead of precum leaking from the tip. He’s heavy in your hand as your fingers slowly wrap around the veiny shaft.

Another grunt, followed by a pathetic whimper as you swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting his arousal as you slowly pump your hand around him. He only seems to grow harder from your gentle touch as his hand brushes across yours, finding your covered slit with ease as he slowly drags his fingers against it, applying just a tad bit of pressure. Your thighs instinctively fall open so that he has easier access to where you drip for him most.

You toy with each other awhile longer, wanting to get yourselves worked up as much as you can. You know exactly what he needs, and he knows exactly what you need. It’s a partnership based on balance after all. Mutual pleasure is something you both deeply relish indulging in.

You’re both a whimpering chorus of sensual sounds. Maestros to your own tunes as you play one another like strings on a violin. He grunts praisingly, you whimper his name.

He’s gently tugging your panties down in a slow movement. He can’t help but chuckle when they stick to your puddle of arousal that has built up between your thighs. He gently peels the fabric down past your calves and ankles.

The sheets rustle as the mourning dove coos just outside the open window. A warm summer breeze kisses your skin as you let out a breathy sigh. He drags the tip of his cock through your sticky wet folds. When he finally begins to sink into your warmth, you both release a shuddered breath as his arms reach up to encase you. His broad size is overwhelming, yet comforting at the same time. He fills you up to the brim, stretching you out as you accommodate his thick size.

You're perfect for him. The perfect partner. The perfect cunt. He knows how much you love when he talks to you in an unbridled, filthy manner. He loves it too. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt.” He murmurs against your skin as he slowly thrusts his hips forward into your ass.

“Always perfect f’me.” He grunts low into your neck. His teeth are scraping your delicate skin while one hand is firmly grasping around one of your breasts with his pointer finger and thumb gently toying with your pebbled nipple.

You mewl out his name, eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he slowly fucks into you. You can feel every inch of his cock move inside of you. God, you love it when he fucks you like this. You love the feeling of him buried so deep inside you, it’s hard to grasp just where he begins, and where he ends.

“Good girl.” He lets out a hot puff of air as he holds you as close as he physically can to his chest. His hips grind against your ass in a circular motion.

Soft giggles are exchanged as he accidentally slips out after pulling his hips back too far.

“Too wet?” You teasingly muse.

He chuckles deeply while gently releasing your breast from his grasp. His hand dips down to where your bodies were previously connected as he grabs ahold of his length and eases it back inside of you. He playfully nips at your shoulder blade, “ain’t ever such a thing of bein’ too wet f’me darlin.”

True.

Instead of grasping your breast once more, his hand gently curves around the crook of your thigh as he coaxes it to rest around his hip with your toes planted firmly on the mattress. He has full access to your pussy, more importantly, your clit as he wastes no time to gently play with you once more.

Your moans increase as his fingers rub your sensitive nub of nerves in quick motions, faster than the rhythm of his hips are fucking into you. It’s a tantalizing combination that has been concocted just for you.

Your moans intensify from the growing sensation in the pit of your stomach. His name falls from your lips like a prayer that is shared just for the two of you. Your sweet little sounds urge him forward. He knows you're close when you try to get away from the intense pleasure surging through your veins. He doesn’t let you. He pulls you right back against his chest, tsking softly under his breath.

“Shh.” He coos. “You’re alright baby. I gotcha. She’s sensitive this mornin’ hmm?” You can feel him smirking against your skin that is beginning to bead up with perspiration. He licks the salty dew like a man starved as he buries his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Jus’ wanna make sure you cum.” He reassures you with one heavy jut of his hips that has you seeing stars between closed eyelids.

“Jus’ wanna love on ya.”

“My baby.”

“My honey.”

“My everythin.’”

Praises fall against your sweat stained skin as he buries himself inside of your warm pussy as deeply as he can reach. Deep enough that his tip is brushing against your cervix. You cry out his name as your nails sink into his forearm. A choked sob, an I love you, a post orgasm laugh as he stays buried inside of you, not wanting to part from your warmth just yet.

He’s kissing you all over as you softly giggle. Your noises that he loves so dearly are cut off when his lips finally find yours. It’s a searing slow kiss. You can taste the passion on his tongue as he breathes out deeply through his nose.

“How d’ya want your eggs? Scrambled, or over easy?” He asks, a boyish grin plastered on his face as he kisses you sweetly.

“Scrambled.” You softly responded, fingers tangling through his hair as you pulled him in close.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @amanitacowboy @saradika @tessa-quayle @darkroastjoel @kirsteng42 @yazsos @casa-boiardi @lovers-liability @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

❗I accidentally deleted the draft where I answered to the ask so I'm reposting it like this. Anyway, TYSM anon ! Means a lot to me ! I always feel like what I'm writing makes absolute no sense LOL. I hope you enjoy! 🫡🩵

a/n: Tomorrow I go back to class but we're up to a slow start, so I'll try to post as much as I can during these months ! If you guys have any other requests - about any soa character (both male and female) - dont be shy to send them, I have so much fun doing these & I looove hearing your thoughts ! ♡

! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

TW: mean !Jax & rough sex.

"Aw fuck - darlin' - what'd he do?" Your eyes are puffy and red - lashes clumping together from your tears - lips swollen from biting them. Jax makes a soft mouth sound as he sweeps his thumb over your cheekbone, rubbing slow, soft circles meant to soothe you.

"Clay," you sob. "He said I was jus' a cheap lay to you," your voice cracks and more tears fall across your pathetic, broken expression. "Jesus Christ," He hisses between clenched teeth. He's seething. "Where is he?"

You shake your head, digging your fingers into the lapels of his vest. "He left," you murmur. "Jus' leave it alone." The words hitched in your throat - blathering something incoherent.

"Baby," he urges. He can hear your heart beginning to thump - pounding too hard and too fast against your chest. "You're with me. You're okay." He rubs his cheek firmly against your own - skin sheathed in cool sweat - his nose probing your hairline.

It ends like it always does. He threads his fingers through your hair - tugging the strands gently - before he crashes his mouth against yours. "I love you."

**

He wraps his fingers around the bends of your knees - forcing them apart. He is hard between your legs; tip leaking and heavy as it presses against your belly. Fisting his cock, he sinks into you in one brutal stroke. He's meaner today. He had hurt you with his words, even when he'd slam the thick of him inside your cunt till you'd bruise, but it never mattered. You were too in love for it to ever matter. This was for him. Not you.

You don't know the specifics about his 'jobs' - he couldn't tell you - but you do know the state that he comes home in. You let him use you as he needs.

"Jackie," You mewl - brow wrinkling in discomfort - as you reach for him. You're full of him. You wonder if you could feel him if you placed your hand on your belly. You cradle the hinge of his jaw and you're blathering against the slope of his cheekbone. You hiccup and sniff - you couldn't help it - he's stretching you apart and it aches something fierce. "Quit whinin'." he bits out as he hits balls deep - cock hitting something deep and sensitive inside of you.

You meet each thrust - even though your cunt is raw - lifting your hips to take his cock again and again. "Don't stop - fuck - m'close." He rolls his hips into you - grinding his pelvic bone against against the peak of your sex - knocking a sharp cry from your kiss-swollen lips. Rough and sharp. It's aggressive and a little ugly - still, you kiss him like you're dying.

He tightens his grip on your waist as you writhe against his hold. He ducks his head - rubbing his cheek firmly against yours - as he presses deeper. He can feel you tighten up - muscles clamping down his length - and fucks you through it. "That's it," he exhales against your teeth - you feel his cock pulse inside you - hips stuttering against your own. "Fuck - I love you."

Still — he leaves. But oh - it feels just like love.

[missmimii]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 ☆彡 | 𝐌 - 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Matt has one wish for his birthday

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. None!

♡︎－ ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 － Happy birthday to my favourite boy in the whole entire world (short Drabble）

Matt’s nose glimmers with a soft glow of candle light, the warm hue glowing into his blue eyes as he nips at his bottom lip. Twenty one. It seemed fake, impossible that he had really grown up so damn fast. A gentle hand kneaded the back on his neck with affection, curling the hairs at the base of his neck around her finger as he let out a sigh. That also seemed fake, her.

“Make’ a wish, baby?” She spoke, Matt’s eyes flicking upward to hers. Beautiful. Hair’s framed her jaw so sweetly, a smile on her kissable lips as she tilted her head down at him with a nurturing expression. With a little shake of the head, Matt flicked his gaze back to the candle lit cake. Ice cream slowly melted off the sides, dribbling onto the cardboard underneath as he waited his wish out. “Think of something you really love, hm?” Something he really loved?

Matt slowly lifted his gaze, eyes sliding across the table, realizing all he could ever want was around him. Marylou cheesed at him from across the table, hand in hand with Matt’s father’s as the two gazed at their son with such pride. Nick had a lazy smile on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, Chris’s head resting on the eldest triplet’s shoulder, a smear of buttercream frosting on the tip of his nose from when he blew out the candles to his cake. Nick couldn’t help himself.

Then her, Matt tipped his jaw up and met eyes with her. Butterflies fluttered in his belly as she brought a hand to his cheek, cupping the right side of his jaw delicately, thumb circling the soft skin as she hummed ever so softly. “Make a wish.” She murmured, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead before pulling away. And he did, a warm aroma of frosting and his girlfriend’s perfume engulfing his nostrils as he leaned forward.

Pursing his lips for a moment, just before Matt’s eyes lulled shut as he blew out a light stream of air. Woosh, fire flowed off into a gusts of smoke, a comforting burning smell flooding his nose as he felt his shoulders fall. Claps were shared around the table, bubbly praises as Matt felt his lips twitch. My wish. Heart heavy with warmth as he brought a hand to his chest, pressing his palm into the fabric of his T-shirt as he concealed emotions that were far too sad to show. “Good job, baby.” The girl chuckled, the sound a beautiful melody to Matt’s ears.

As Jimmy leaned an arm across the table, everyone’s voice taking over the couples ears as Matt threaded a hand through his brown locks sheepishly. He felt .. weird. Though the attention wasn’t necessarily on him, he could actually feel the warmth and presence of everyone’s love. For him. A gentle weight was placed on his shoulder as he looked up, her hand on the boy’s shoulder as she laughed, looking around and talking to his family.

The room was dark apart from a soft illumination of a tea candle that sat aside the cake, the same cake he mentioned months prior to the special day that was his. She remembered. “Hey,” snapping from his daze, the girl glimpsed at him with concern. “what’s wrong?” Baby.

Cooing lightly, a hand lifted to brush his hair back as he stood upright from his seat. “Nothing, nothing－I’m fine.” Matt breathed out, leaning into her touch as his eyes fluttered shut. The girl watched as his eyelashes fell against the skin of his cheeks, resting his head on her open hand as she got impossibly closer to the perfectly emotional triplet. He was hers. “Then why are you crying?” A lone tear trickled down from the corner of his eyes, the blue abyss’s glazed over with wetness as he allowed them to escape.

“I’m not.” He mumbles, sniffing as he brushed his knuckles across the wetness under his eye. Laughing softly, both hands cupped his cheeks in a gentle manner. “No?” The girl mused, Matt letting out a little laugh at her tone, sniffling, “M’just happy.” So fucking happy.

Humming, she pecked his nose once. “Why the tears then?” She murmured against the now pink skin, resting her forehead against his as the two gazed into each other’s eyes. Matt brought a hand to her neck, gripping the side gently as he rubbed the soft dewy skin with adoration. “Just’ feel lucky.” He uttered, seeing her eyes glitter with shyness as he leaned in, littering kisses and nips to the side of her neck. “So fuckin’ lucky.” Matt mumbled in between pecks, voice coming out hushed.

Taglist! － @fratbrochrisgf f@jetaimevous s @sturnstvr @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf@imwetforyourmom @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattsbrowser

[saltedair]

ask meme for @covertstrings ( wendy : flower )

"aw, thanks wen. i don't have anything for you, though. unless you'd like some, uh..." belly riffled through her backpack and hummed, "half finished homework? or a protein bar?"

[stonedlilac]

It's my birthday so have an old birthday smut.♡

(Written in the perspective of a domme)

♡

Open your fucking legs, darling. You are to be admired and not hidden. I want to see how soaked you are for me. No need to be shy with Mommy, I already know you want it all. So needy. Needy girls keep their legs open and on display.

I'm cuffed with shiny and sparkly ribbons hanging from the loops and clips, arms clipped in front, above my head. They dangle so pretty for you... like a little piñata. Full of sweet candy that you just want to bust open and snatch up.

I'm leaving your legs free, I want you to wiggle around when I hurt you, beautiful. Swing back and forth as you yelp and scream for me. Tensing as your feet barely leave the ground and you climb your binds in desperation. It'd be so cute to see you scramble up the chains and cling like a frightened kitten.

I'd wrap a small, silk string around the tips of each nipple, tightening it until you cry for me. Smirking, I'd attach purple balloons to each thinly wrapped thread. They'd float above you, gently tugging at your nipples and swaying just the slightest. Next would be a pair of clamps, each screwn in security over the threads. We all know you desperately crave that, baby. They'd dangle, the cold chain brushing your belly sporadically, causing you to squirm. I'd attach little ribbons to those as well. Everything needs to be festive. It is your birthday, after all!

After feeling how drenched you are I'd fill you with my fingers and make you sing happy birthday, increasing my speed as you get closer to the end. If you stutter or mess up, we start over. I'm a musician so I'll make sure you get it right, baby.

After you're all stretched from my fingers pounding your cunt I'll slip a vibe inside, watching you whither and wilt under the constant stimulation. Your overstimulated moans of pain are like music to my ears. I'd watch as your cum would drip down the vibe and down my hand, but I'm not stopping. Not until your screams overflow these walls with ecstacy. You're going to be a complete mess when I'm done with you, birthday girl.

You haven't even taken my strap yet, which would make me chuckle. I'd leave you empty after cumming for so long, in a distant haze, your brain fuzzy and thrown off balance. Just how I want you, doll.

I'd take my time, giving you a moment for your breath to slow, your heart rate to go down, your body to settle back to reality. Take a break, cutie. You're going to need it.

When I return I'd imagine you'd be hanging there, already worn and broken. Your hair resting perfectly across your cheeks. The makeup that's smeared across your face. You look so pretty this way, baby.

You wouldn't even hear me coming before you'd feel the sensation of cold plastic touching your lips. "Open" I'd command. And of course your fuzzy brain wouldn't think and just open for me. "Because you won't be sucking my strap, you need something else to suck on. Blow." I coo at you, a giggle bubbling in my stomach. The comedic buzzing of a birthday blower echos across the room and I let out uncontrollable laughter. You look so pathetic for me. "Now, you better not drop that, spit it out, break it or bite it. You won't like what I do to you if you do."

Suddenly you feel two fingers brush up against your cunt. "You're already wet? Just from me sticking something in your mouth?" You peer up at me looking so pathetic and I grab the chain attatched to your nipples and tug. *bzbzbbbbbzzzz* the birthday blower involuntarily speaks and I can't help but chuckle.

My strap abruptly enters your pussy, coated with your wetness immediately. The birthday blower that is between your lips rhythmically matching my speed. Taking me in greedily, tightening against my length. I lean into you and bite your neck, seething. "Look at how eager your pussy is for me, it's practically sucking me in." I feel you convulse and cum hard against me.

I smirk, grabbing you between your calf and thigh, sweeping you and setting you on one of my thighs, using my thigh to balance out your weight. The chains make satisfying clinking sounds and the balloons sway gently above you as I lean against the wall and I place you where I want you.

I pick up speed, your wetness and cum making satisfying sounds as I pound in and out of you. A soft clink hits the floor and I feel your pussy tighten hard against my strap. I smirk, stopping and keeping the strap in place, filling you, observing you. The way your face flushes, the beads of sweat that trickle down your body here and there. Your glossed over eyes that are now widened in fear.

"Oh darling." I coo at you, "those lips have nothing in them, do they?" I frown at you as you slowly shake your head at me and glance down. I lift your chin with two fingers so you're looking at me. "It looks like we're going to be celebrating your birthday for longer than anticipated, beautiful. Your disobedience has made me very unhappy darling." I gingerly reach down and swipe the blower from the floor. You hear the soft sounds of my footsteps walking away, some shuffling but you can't quite make out what I'm doing.

Little to your knowledge, the blower is now clean and has a thick layer of lube on the cap. I slowly make my way back to you, so you can't hear me. I come up behind you and run a hand down your neck, to your tits and down your hips, softly pecking your neck.

"You look so beautiful for me like this, you know?" Suddenly you feel something part your asshole, sliding and filling you. The streamers attached to the birthday blowers hang from your butt and I giggle. "Look! You have a tail!" I grab and smack your cheeks and you flinch under my touch, running a hand from your clit and inbetween your folds, enjoying how wet you are for me.

I plunge the strap in your cunt and you let out a loud moan, your neck snapping back in ecstasy. "I'm going to fuck the disobedience out of you now. You'll learn to follow a simple direction. Even if that brain is all fuzzy." I'm roughly pounding into you now, the streamers hanging from your ass swaying like a flag in a windstorm. "You're taking me so well, slut. It's like you were made for this." My hand wraps around your throat, squeezing harder with each thrust. "Your face turns such pretty colors for me, princess. Do you want to breathe, baby? Yeah? But you're doing such a good job for Mommy being her breath slut." I rail into you now, your pussy stretched and taking me all greedily, you choke and gag against my grip. "If you're so scared why is your pussy so wet, hmm? Why are you tightening against my strap and making such cute sounds? You know this is what you want, your eyes and cunt tell me all I need to know." You cum again, so hard that you let out a pathetic scream that fades into a whine.

I smirk, step back and look at you. You are an absolute wreck. "Such a pretty piece I've created." I praise, almost as if I'm talking to myself.

I blindfold you then. I leave you, hanging and ruined, the cum dripping down your legs. Occasionally I hear a soft whimper or the rattling of the chains when you try to move. It makes my pussy pulse imagining you standing there, bound and needy.

I come back later that evening to sneak a strap attached to a machine in your pussy. I set it at a painfully slow rhythm meant to make you needy, desperate and wanting speed. I want you to be ready when I feel like filling you with my strap, not a machine. I run my hand along the front part of your pussy, admiring the way the machine slowly stretches your hole. The way your walls cling to the strap when it goes in deep and starts to slide out. The way the head is positioned just right so it won't slip out by accident. The way your pussy greedily takes in the whole length, I know it's hitting your sweet spot so painfully slow. That must be very frustrating, hmm?

I part the front of your lips, exposing your hard and pulsing clit, sliding a finger past my lips to make it wet with my spit. Pressing a finger firmly down and slowly start to make circles, you lean into me softly moaning. When you're extra needy and whiny I stop, enjoying the way you wiggle and squirm. Lifting the blindfold I wave a vibrator playfully in your eyesight, letting you peek just long enough to know what it is. Your eyes widen and you start to frantically shake your head, sharp whimpers leaving the pit of your throat. The blindfold snaps back down leaving you again in total darkness. You hear the buzzing, but you don't feel anything. You're being played with, mind-fucked and it's making you tense. The strap still working your pussy slowly open for me is now coated in a thick layer of your cum and you limply thrust forward when the strap hits deep.

That's when you feel it. The all familiar and overstimulating tingling and burning on your clit, the overwhelming waves of sensations travelling through your tummy. You pull your binds extremely hard but they hold to your disappointment. You feel the harsh pricking of a rope wrap around your belly a few times, a sharp tug making it snug and holding the vibrator firmly in place.

I step back and admire my work. You are squirming but have no escape, an overstimulated and panting mess. Dribbles of spit falling to the floor like a broken little toy. The strap softlty fucking your sore and ruined hole. The vibrator buzzing harshly and unforgivingly against your clit.

I pull harshly at your blindfold, ripping it off your pretty face, admiring and adoring you. "Happy Birthday, baby. You were so good for me, like an obident birthday bitch." I lean forward and grin at you slyly, placing a birthday hat upon your head. Last thing I do is pull out a confetti popper and tug on the string. Confetti rains upon you and I smirk admiring how festive you are for your special day. As I turn to leave, your worn out whimpers and moans slowly fade and I know this will be a birthday you'll never forget.♡

[saltedair]

"it definitely can be." belly laughed. but it was the only way she knew how to be. "okay, and how do we do that?"

"that seems exhausting." ginny admitted as the other spoke. who wanted to overthink everything in life? not her. "why don't you try give it a go? with me?"

[withleeknow]

to build a home.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; lowercase intended, a tiny bit suggestive, unedited bc i'm me word count: 0.5k note: my first skz/minho fic !! i haven't written fluff in forever and i have never written for anyone beside bts so i am so embarrassed rn lmao 😭 but anyways here's a babie drabble to test the waters ~

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

home isn’t always a place. sometimes, home is a person.

you don’t want to call someone your home, because people can change and people can leave you behind.

if it were up to you, you would never make a home out of him. but you had no say in it. you couldn’t control the fact that he would come into your life and get under your skin, almost like he was always meant to be with you. like it was all cosmic realignment how he would make you feel the most loved that you have ever felted in your whole life. like the universe decided to go easy on you for once, like it said “this one’s for you.”

because you can’t deny that there’s a kind of celestial warmth in the way his arms wrap around you and hold you in his embrace on winter nights, and summer nights, and every other night in between. he stays cuddled up with you until the sun comes up and paints the entire sky with the most beautiful splashes of pinks and purples and golds. and when you try to quietly slip away from him to start your morning, he would tighten his arms around your frame, a harmless frown pressed against your neck where his face is hidden.

“minho, i have to get ready,” you’d say , chuckling lightly as you do, your fingers threading through his fluffy hair.

to which he’d reply, sleepily, stubbornly, “just ten more minutes.”

you can’t deny that there’s heaven in how he kisses you, with his hands delicately holding your face, with all the love he has to offer. you aren’t religious, but you could make a religion out of the feeling you get when he showers you with devotion through his kisses. the tingle that simmers in your belly, the warmth that slowly spreads all over your ribcage as you get lost in your overflowing adoration for him. you’d gladly fall to your knees to worship that feeling forever.

you’d giggle when his hands sneak off elsewhere - rewarding you with a touch that can’t possibly be considered innocent - and he’d whine adorably, because even a split second away from your lips seems to last a lifetime.

“love you,” you’d appease him, watching as a blush would creep up from his neck until it adorns his cheeks with the prettiest and rosiest flush.

“love you too.”

you can’t deny the wonderful magic that is his mere presence - your best friend, the light of your life, the one you love the most. you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to make your world infinitely beautiful just by existing in it. your minho, your only love. he holds up the sun and he hangs the moon, he’s everything that matters to you.

you used to push back, used to resist this utterly obvious fact, but there’s no use in trying to refute it anymore. he’s your home. the greatest comfort you have, the safest place you’ve ever known.

and you hope he always will be.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 28.10.2023]

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 7: Overstimulation

♤♡-Pairs: Kaeya x gn!reader

☆☆-Warnings: Overstimulation, male genitalia (for kaeya), bratty kaeya, Mess of cum, show him who's boss >.<

"I said I was sorry baby...there's-fuck, theres really no need for this.." kaeya hissed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Currently, you had him pressed against the silk of your sheets. You said nothing to his pleas, then again, your mouth was currently busy. His fingers were threaded through your hair but he wasn't allowed to aid you. Your rules.

"Baby please, I've already cum twice..I learned my lesson." You gave a harsh suck to his cock, making him tug at your hair. Letting go with a pop, you leveled him with a glare. "What did I say about tugging my hair? Place them at your sides." You could see a protest right at the end of his tongue, so you grasped his shaft. Slick with your spit and his cum, you stroked it relentlessly. "Oh fuck, okay okay fine! They-fuck baby, they're at my sides." Still you didn't stop, he needed to learn.

See, Kaeya thought it was funny to 'flirt' with the woman at the sandwich shop you both visited for lunch. He claimed it was only to get both sandwiches for free. Now he'll know what happens if he tries that in the future.

"You brought this on yourself, love. And you have no choice but to take it." You continued to stroke him until his thighs shook, yet another load coated his pretty tummy. Cum mixing with the previous and the small tufts of blue hair just below his belly button. "Please...I can't, that's three times already-"

"Keep talking and I'll keep going. We have all night." Your voice was low, serious.

Your hand wrapped around him, holding him upright, perfect for when you climbed ontop of him. Wasting no time in sinking down on him. Out of reflex, his hands came to your hips. "Uh uh," you took his hands in yours, pinning them above his head. "No touching." Then your body started to move, grinding and bouncing on his cock. And he made the prettiest moans too. Likely do to the overstimulation, because usually he was quite smug when you rode him.

"You're going to cum as many times as I say. Do you understand?"

You noticed a few stray tears roll down his cheeks as he nodded. What a beautiful sight. "Good," you picked up your pace. Doing movements with your hips you knew brought him the quickest to completion. By now he was simply a mumbling mess. Saying how he would cum for you and then only seconds later he was saying he couldn't do it. Of course he did, he came once more, painting your insides white. And yet you still kept going.

You planned to milk him until he was completely dry. And maybe then you'd forgive him.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆ Next.

[daryascurse]

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭ο𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐱

03: Utahime Iori x Reader

She kisses you, and the touch is soft, like the velvet of burst bubblegum collapsing over your lips. It leaves your fingers aching and your knee turning between hers. When your grips loosen Utahime rises, her hair cascading as she arches delicately above you in turn. The heft of the duvet slides down her back as the kiss breaks, her hand wandering down almost hesitantly to the front of the shirt – her shirt – that you’ve borrowed for the night. “Is this…” Utahime pauses, her gaze bright through the thick feather of her eyelashes. “Yes,” you say with a breath, knowing what she wants to say as you always do.

⟡ reader: POV second person, AFAB, nongendered pronouns ⟡ content: friends to lovers, fingerlng, finger sucking, scissorlng, oraI ⟡ wordcount: ~3.5k ⟡ ao3 link ⟡ playlist

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴅɴɪ. I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

Before meeting her, you’d known only one form of homoerotic friendship. It was the kind you’d known in those fierce, biting relationships that actually revealed itself in one of two ways. One way it had often taken form was as a flash in the pan. A bond before circumstances severed two lives apart, occasionally leaving threads wound through social media views and likes and responses, until these interactions too faded and broke away. Worse yet than those superficial, spiking acquaintanceships, though, were the longer friendships. These had been feelings likely seeded at an age long before you had any word to describe it; or, at that age when everything bloomed anew as a new life in adulthood. “BFF” was wholly inadequate. These emotions and bonds transcended labels of any kind. And those friendships ended in explosion, always over a scapegoat third party or convenient external situation - never even acknowledging the true tensions. Because that was the key, either way. It was always chock full of tension. That was the necessary part, the worst part.

And then you learned of another type of homoerotic friendship, when you met Utahime Iori, and you saw that tension actually wasn’t necessary. This was a friendship where you loved her in that same ethereal wordless way as it had always burned, but you knew plainly it was love. Maybe still not in so many words, but your heart was soft at the thought of her laugh, and she floated to mind sometimes at night when you twisted your fingers and pushed between your thighs in desperate ruts. And you never stopped your motions to shoo her from your imagination.

She is often your shadow in a way you never expected; dinners infrequent after work due to the nature of her enigmatic “work,” but as soon as you sink into the restaurant tables and wipe your hands with warm towels, the two of you don’t rise for hours after. She isn’t the fastest to respond to texts, but once she’s messaging you, the conversation doesn’t stop until well past the midnight hours. You hadn’t known her long, but it’s like she’s been in your life since primary school, the way you reference her to your family, to other friends. “And what are you and Utahime up to this weekend?” becomes the refrain on telephone conversations with your mother, and you find you always have an answer in some form.

Utahime often laughs at you in a way she never laughs with other people, in a way that brings a grin to your face as well. “Stop,” she sputters out, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her hand from across the room.

“What am I doing?”

“Stop looking at me,” she says, still shaking her head as the giggles hiccup from her belly. And you swig your bottle back and laugh, which makes her laugh more. “I can’t stop.”

“I didn’t even say anything funny,” you say.

“Yes,” Utahime says, but she can barely get the word out before doubling over again and reaching for her bottle in turn. Everyone else leaning against the walls, knees to chest in the boxy apartment, pauses in their conversations to hear what the joke is, and they give up to turn back to each other shortly.

All of this is so innocent on its face yet you still, you still think of her eyes when your head is spinning and heart beating alone in the sheets. So it’s not a surprise on this night, which isn’t the first time you’ve crawled under someone’s comforter together to share a futon after an evening out, the kiss happens. Your hands are interlaced with hers, her mouth tasting faintly of the balm still on her lips, and even as it happens, you can’t untangle how it even happened. There had been no preamble of conversation before you found your heads on the same pillow. Perhaps the empty, froth-laced glasses on her kitchen counter piling up all night have something to do with it, but not all of it.

Love has something to do with it, some kind of love that some languages certainly must have a word for. But you can’t ask her clearly if she knows what it is. Whatever the knot in your mind is, it’s mirrored in your throat.

She kisses you, and the touch is soft, like the velvet of burst bubblegum collapsing over your lips. It leaves your fingers aching and your knee turning between hers. When your grips loosen Utahime rises, her hair cascading as she arches delicately above you in turn. The heft of the duvet slides down her back as the kiss breaks, her hand wandering down almost hesitantly to the front of the shirt – her shirt – that you’ve borrowed for the night.

“Is this…”

Utahime pauses, her gaze bright through the thick feather of her eyelashes.

“Yes,” you say with a breath, knowing what she wants to say as you always do.

Her hand tugs at the neckline of your shirt, as if she’s unsure of how to actually proceed next, before gathering her hand around your chest again to give a gentle squeeze. You suck air in at your teeth, your knee rising again between her thighs when her thumb swipes over your nipple, the fabric rough against pebbling skin. She pauses at the imperceptible stiffening that freezes your pulse at your throat, and does it again, again. Your face is heat-flushed when her legs shift, hips over your knee and thighs closing gently.

“Oh,” Utahime breathes, and you tense your muscle, feeling the way she moves down. She’s sliding, the way her coiled muscles keep her in the air uncharacteristically weakening as if her body is whispering a gentle urge to sit. She takes in another labored breath as she adjusts, her knees pinned on either side of your thighs as she reaches forward and cups her hands around both of your breasts.

You cannot speak, can only turn your lips into a pausing purse, and you reach your hand forward hesitantly, around the stretch of her arms. Utahime is still hovering over your raised knee, and you slip your finger between the curve of her panties and the smooth expanse of your thigh. You notice that, the having to force space, the fact that she had been a butterfly’s kiss from her hips sinking to the cross of your thigh. She hisses at that, a sound rough between her teeth.

It’s your turn to start the question – “Can I -”

“Mmhmm,” Utahime moans in a way that makes her voice tremble. Her thumbs slide again, pinching and pulling at your nipples over your shirt. The friction of the fabric drives a thirst in your blood.

Her pussy is hot even through the thin layer your fingers are tensing over, and then extending without a thought. Utahime whimpers again. The way she gropes at your chest turns more desperate, almost in tune with the jolts of her hips. She’s grinding her cunt into your hand, urging your fingers, open, wider. Your thumb is curved up, digging in the groove of her underpants to find the roll of her clit, and Utahime cries from her throat when you reach it.

“That feels…good?” you say, almost choking on it, and she makes the same high “uh-huh” sound in response.

Utahime’s fingers fumble to the hem of your shirt, her neck dropping and long tendrils of hair turned inky in the night following with the motion. She tugs your panties to the side, whining again when the elastic snaps them back into place and she has to do it again. Her fingers are slender, the color of the moon peering from over the balcony beyond, and it’s your turn to gasp wordlessly into the night when she gets them properly out of the way and brings her attention to your cunt.

“Fuck,” you bite out as her impatient fingers slip inside, the intimate sense of your skin touching almost making your own furious rubbing motions freeze. You have the sudden urge to grab Utahime’s fingers away and kiss them all, the pads that must glisten now, the same hands that have passed you drinks at the bar and held up sweatshirts in delicate manicures to ask your opinion – these holy fingers that thrust and open you. There are shivers down your spine, erratic urges that only double when her other hand splays, thumb hooked around the elastic of your panties and pinning your hip down with that deceptively invisible strength of hers.

You look up, and are almost surprised by the concentration in her face, the way her lips are curved back in almost a snarl, the dash of a scar across her nose darkened by the focus knotting up her features. The breath comes out of her in puffs. It makes the panging need below your belly ache harder, and you grab at the fabric of her panties. There’s a darker spot seeping through, and when you tug the cloth tight against her skin, it frames her plump pussy perfectly.

“Oh, oh,” Utahime says.

You press your thumb against her damp panties again. The fabric clings to her where you apply the pressure and rub, and it makes her hips jerk again. There’s practically no room to do so now, hunched over you on the futon as you squirm in response to her fingers working between your legs. But her focus is something more gifted, more trained than yours, and Utahime plants her hips down on either side of you with a little grunt of determination huffing from her nose.

“It’s good?”

“S-so good,” you murmur, and Utahime seems triumphant in that. She’s actually practically cooing like a dove as she presses into you in turn.

You pulse. Any last hesitant shreds of composure are waning.

And it’s like Utahime can tell without words. As if the way your shoulders roll conveys the way that your shirt is unbearably warm over you, your nipples still aching with the ghost of her touch with each raw twitch of your body sliding the fabric over them. The way your fingers anxiously reach and rub, over her panties to push into her as far as you can and urge the leaking arousal out, with urgency the more she reaches and touches at the parts that make you whine. You can feel it oiling your fingers and it makes you wet, wetter and rushing around her own reaching touch.

“U- Uta-hime…”

“Mmhmm?”

“I think I’m…”

“Close?”

She knows, of course she does, of course she would always know your body and mind more intimately than you could ever explain it, and you give a judder and nod as best as you can.

“Okay,” she says, breathing the word so softly you can barely hear the consonant crisply break to differentiate it from any other moan and whimper that’s been rising from the floor. Utahime’s lungs must be working as hard as yours, even as her fingers begin to pump faster, her touch honing in right on the places she’s learned so quickly are where your weakest points are. Maybe she can even feel the way your body is pulsing, the way the heat is trapped and boiling at your blood, the way the walls of your pussy must be twitching and closing around her fingers.

You do reach climax first, with a violent shudder and a gasp so loud that it’s vocal. Your hand falls without a thought, selfishly ignoring her.

“Oh-oh, oh, oh,” and all you can do is repeat it, waiting too long to try to strangle a hold on the volume as your abdomen curls. You come in your panties so hard that when her fingers withdraw, a pained groan slipping from you at the soreness of skin on skin, the liquid seeps straight through the fabric. It’s trapped to cool there. You shift your hips uncomfortably below her.

Utahime look at you with eyes like scoops of French vanilla ice cream, smooth and overflowing and sweet.

“Oh,” you say again, and exhale back onto the pillow with your lips parted and chin tilted up at her. When Utahime bends to kiss you again, it’s sloppy, wet, so good, and you don’t stop yourself from reaching up and embracing her in turn.

She almost scrambles into your arms, her chest heaving in turn with yours, as if confirming your suspicion that her body has been working just as hard. Your knee finds itself bending between her legs again, the cool spot on her underpants rubbing against your thigh as the kiss deepens, becomes more aggressive with lashes of her tongue against yours.

“I think you should pull down my panties and kiss me there,” Utahime says heavily, and you pull back her hair in a smoothing gesture with a nod.

“Lie back,” you say, hearing your voice catch in your throat, and it’s as if you switch positions to mirror each other. Her hair splays like a halo as it falls over the pillow, and now, the shadows shift as you turn your legs to urge her hips down flush against the futon before kneeling over her thighs.

Her shirt is rumpled and pulled practically diagonal against her torso, and you pull it up just enough to give a kiss to the crescent of skin over the band of her underpants. It’s almost surprising to find the touch soft over her toned muscles, and you kiss her stomach again. Utahime shifts her hips and the smooth base of her hand comes to stroke your cheek, brush at your temple. You feel the same strange urge as earlier, and turn your head up into her palm, almost nuzzling into her touch before reaching to lace her fingers with yours and pull them towards your mouth.

Utahime sucks in a breath vocally, urgently, and dances her fingers across your lips. You taste yourself as your tongue moves and swirls around her. You suck, the pull of her slender fingers tense and suctioned.

“Oh,” she whispers, and you loosen your lips and bring them back down. You kiss her pussy with her panties on, tasting that first hint of oil leaking through the fabric, and she makes the same sound.

You’re moving slower than she was, and you can pull her underpants to the side with ease. Her folds are already glimmering, a star fallen from the sky to lie below you with waiting breath. You run your finger along the shine almost experimentally, as if this is a line you’re waiting for permission to cross, but Utahime turns her hips from side to side in agonizing invitation.

She tastes rich, like grass and wine, the bitterness lingering on the tip of your tongue when you move it. You’re a little self-conscious, the thought seeping in that you might not be doing it well, might not be doing it good for her, but these first licks are selfish and hungry. You find yourself intoxicated by the way the taste and smell of Utahime seem to cloud your senses, hovering at the back of your nose and across your mouth, and you keep putting your tongue to her as if afraid the next swallow would take that headiness away entirely. That would be unbearable, and so you keep your tongue busy on her.

Utahime is wet and twitching, with moans rising from her. She’s unable to lie still, grabbing at your head again without force or direction, but just to reach you and touch you. You skate your hand down the skin of her hip – I’m here, I’m here – and she clumsily closes her grip around your fingers with a grasp so strong it pinches your hold around her tugged panties.

“Oh,” she says in a song, something that makes your shoulders rise and you stare at her. Utahime’s lips are swollen and her face is blushed in the moonlight. You feel the need to kiss her, and you do, lifting over her as her leg crosses under your knee and pins you right over her.

“Come, let’s come while kissing” she says so earnestly, with such heavy breath to her voice you can’t tell if she means it as a command or as a plead.

The friction between your bodies is hungry, hungrier still as if you hadn’t even come yet. The pathetic rumple of your underpants against each other makes the way your hips slot into space somehow fit even better. There’s no clumsy search for rhythm, no kick of feet against each other, just your legs knotted and your body leaned forward over her.

Utahime catches your chin between her fingers and kisses you with whimpers breaking between her lips. This kiss is hard, all tongues and teeth, saliva sliding to the corners of your mouth. Her taste is exchanged between the two of you in a way that keeps the burning beneath your belly even hotter, your body shaking against hers as you lean against her. She’s humping, grinding, and at one point throws her head back with her arms around you, and you can see her teeth gritted in the night.

Seeing that, seeing how close she is, is what keeps you from collapsing on top of her when you kiss your way down her jaw, finding the soft skin of her throat, and washing your tongue over it. You hesitate, closing your lips around there for a moment, but not sucking in hard enough to leave a mark. Instead, you kiss again, and again, as if each one drives the moans higher and higher from her lungs.

“Ah – ah -fuck!”

It’s decidedly unladylike, and with a moan of your own, you drive your hips harder against hers, squeezing your thighs and digging for that friction of release.

Utahime comes first, with her fingers like claws in your back and arms. Your knees buckle at it, the way she presses her pussy into your skin, her hot folds still half-trapped against the fabric of her underpants. She’s shameless humping up in erratic jerks, drawing everything out, leaving it in spiderwebs across your thigh and hip and pleats of panties. And you can’t help but lower your fingers to chase your release in turn, furiously shoving your hand between your bodies, and Utahime cups her hand over yours to help you. Her grip on you tightens when her hips slow, and that’s when you come again, the crest of your orgasm hitting you hard enough to choke.

“Oh – my god – oh my god,” you burst, and you have to turn your head away, have to hold your body up over her to keep from crashing around Utahime.

“Oh, fuck,” she says in an echoed exhaustion.

It subsides, and you have to hold yourself up on your elbows for a moment as the blood pounds from your ears.

At last you sit up, kicking away the last heavy fold of the duvet at your feet. Your legs feel sweaty and clammy, but when you extend them over the floor, they look smooth. They’re just shaking, the same way your hands are when you look at them in the moonlight. You turn you head back, and Utahime is pushing her hair back in a knotted waterfall away from her forehead.

“I’m – I’m going to pee,” you say, and it’s shocking how normal the words come out; like you were just watching television together, or having tea, and only have to quickly interrupt for a moment before you’ll come back and carry on the same as always.

“I need water. You want some?”

Her voice sounds normal too.

“Yeah, thanks.”

You linger in the bathroom, still staring at your hands. They look normal, too, save for the last tremors. Your thighs ache. The taste of her lingers on your tongue, and you run it around your teeth to catch it all across your mouth. You can hear the faint press of her feet as she moves around the kitchen, the clink of fresh glasses to the counter.

So what now? That is the question, the question you have always been afraid to ask, the reason you have only held the thought of Utahime as you saw her tonight in half-formed shadows at the thought of your mind, without ever daring to even fully envision it. You’re friends. You’re best friends. That’s always what you’ve said – can you say it no more?

But some form of love, whatever kind of love it is, brought your mouths and bodies together tonight.

You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the same swollen lips and bright eyes of Utahime’s that you’ve been enchanted by all night.

“What now?” you ask softly, and watch your reflection shrug in tandem response.

 She’s still moving through the kitchen, making those sounds and physical pauses you know so well, better than anyone else you’ve known in your life.

Maybe a glass of water is all you need for now.