#'if you and i are gonna be in close quarters i think it's a good idea to be safe.'

[classyrbf]

SERVANT DUTIES! — RYOMEN SUKUNA

SYNOPSIS...sukuna can no longer hold himself back whenever he sees you in his quarters, so he ends up fucking you, his servant

INFO...true form!sukuna x fem!reader, manhandling, anal, double penetration, hair pulling, choking, dacryphilia, overstim, name calling, readers calls sukuna ‘master’ and ‘my lord’, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“M-master!” You squealed, your ankles by your ears as tears brim your eyes. You’re gasping for air, trying your hardest not to pass out from the overwhelming pleasure you felt coursing through your body. “Please!” Your hands are pushing on his chest, weak attempts at trying to get him to slow down. But did you really want him to? The feeling of both of his cocks sliding in and out of you, penetrating both of your holes. They suck him in, wrap around him and keep him there, cause deep down, you’re aching to cum again.

“Fuck!” He grunts, one hand wrapped around your tiny little throat, squeezing, but not enough to do any harm. “Been wanting to feel this pussy since the moment you became my good little servant. And I must say, you’ve lived up to my expectations,” he chuckles, baring his fangs. You whimper under him, the praise going straight to your pussy. It’d be anyone’s dream to get praise by the Lord Sukuna, and you here you were, getting fucked by him. “You like being good for me don’t you?” He slams his hips against yours, the fat head of his cock sending you into a spiral as it hits all the right angles.

“Ah—yes!” You nod, eyes rolling back. “Yes!” Your hand comes to wrap around his forearm, little breaths leaving your lips as you lay there and take it. “I love it, my lord!” You stare up at him with such desperation and eagerness. He reaches his hand down your neglected clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing it in circles, amplifying the pleasure. “Master!” You gasp. “Gonna cum! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream, voice echoing through the room. Your legs shake under him, pussy throbbing around his cock.

“What are whore you are,” he laughs, slowly pulling out of your swollen pussy. He removes his hand from your throat, spreading your legs wide so he can get a good look at the mess you’ve made. Another hand strokes his cock, slowly, only inches away from where you wanted him most. “I should’ve known you were. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me. That brain of yours is filthy, servant.” He has a smug smile on his face as he stares at your hole clenching around nothing.

“Sir, I…yes. I’ve had filthy thoughts about you,” you say shyly. “I did not mean to—ah!” He flips you over onto your stomach like you weigh nothing, hoisting your ass in the air before giving it a good slap. Your eyes clench shut at the stinging sensation, his nails trailing over your skin. “I’m sorry,” you meekly say.

“Tell me, have you thought about me spanking you before? Bending you over and fucking you senseless?” He closes in on you, his breath fanning your ear as he whispers so delicately with such dominance. He dips two fingers into your sopping cunt, taking pleasure in hearing the way you moan into the sheets. “Or having my fingers in your greedy cunt?” The lewd sound that followed his movement made your face heat up in embarrassment. Unexpectedly, he forced your gaze upon him, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You winced, staring at him through half lidded eyes. “Answer me.”

With a simple nod, you answered, “yes, my lord.” He let out a devious laugh at your words, he build towering over you as he looked down at you in your most vulnerable. You tried to hide from him, cowering on all fours while his fingers were still deep inside of you.

“Usually, I don’t tolerate such behavior, especially from a weak human like yourself,” he removed his fingers from you, looking at how they were coated in your slick, “but you seem so desperate and eager for me, I find it rather entertaining. Are you not afraid I might hurt you or is that what you want?” He positioned himself behind you, his hand running down your spine, goosebumps on your skin. “You’ve intrigued me, servant.”

Your eyes widened at the feeling of both of his cocks sliding into your tight holes, your hands gripping the sheets below you as you accommodated to the stretch. A measly whimper escaped your throat as you prepared for his harsh thrusts. You knew he wasn’t going to go easy on you. His large hands grip your hips, the other tugging at your hair, and lastly another one tugging at your arm all while he slammed into you. Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Nngh—fuck! Ah!” You pant, your body thrusting forward with such force only to be pulled back by Sukuna. “Oh my god!” Your eyes roll back and your jaw falls slack at the feeling of his cock dragging along your sensitive walls.

“The only god here is me,” he growls, pulling your back flush against his broad chest. His hand wrapped around your throat as he pistons his hips with such ease. Your hands grip onto his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. “I should fill your holes, breed you and make you my concubine,” he devilishly whispered in your ear. “Did you just clench around me? Did the thought of me breeding you turn you on, filthy human? Say it.” His hand squeezed your throat tighter before he pushed you back down to the bed, shoving your head into the pillows.

“G-gonna cum! I’m so close!” You scream, tears streaming down your cheeks as he plowed into you with such force, fucking you into the mattress.

“Shit! Mmm, fuck yes!” He pulled you back on his cock, fucking you harder, deeper, and faster. He landed a slap on your ass, watching the way it bounced back, leaving him mesmerized. His thrusts grew sloppier, a clear indication he was going to cum soon. “Say it!” He demanded, voice sharp and rough.

“Fuck! Please, breed me! Please, my lord! I want it—ah! I’m cumming!” You cried out, body quivering while simultaneously, you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up in both of your holes.

“There you go, fucking take it!” Your weak body collapsed, as he slowly pulled out of you, watching in awe at how his cum leaked out. “Maybe humans are good for something after all,” he scoffs. He watches the way your body trembles on his bed, barely able to move on your own. “You’ve impressed me today.”

With slow movements, you pick your nightgown and robe up off the floor, dressing yourself. “I’m glad I could be of service to you, master.” Your voice is wavering as you gather yourself, bowing your head in respect.

Just as you were about to walk away, you hear his footsteps behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, voice echoing in your ears. You turn to face him, scared to make eyes contact with him even thought his cum was dripping down your legs.

“Back to the servant quarters—”

“Did you take what I said as a joke? You’re my concubine now.” He steps closer, closing the distance between you two. “Clean up. I’ll have the others bring you something more suitable to wear to sleep.” He looks down at the cheap nightgown you wore, a few buttons missing from when he ripped it off of you.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. Thank you, my lord.” You went to step towards the bathroom, only for his large hand to pull you back.

“Undress, here. I’ll have them throw it out,” he demanded. You gulped, nodding at his orders. You carefully undid the buttons, sliding the night gown off, the fabric falling at your feet. “Now go. Perhaps I should join you after.”

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“I’ve never cum before.”

Your shy admission from earlier that day swirled about in Simon’s mind, and the more he thought about it the more he just couldn’t believe it was the truth.

So he made it his sole mission that night, to make the woman he’d had feelings for years for cum, just for him.

He wasted no time in taking you to his quarters, slowly and gently ridding you of your clothes. When he finally set eyes on your naked frame, he was truly convinced you’d ruined him for anyone else. He’d be yours until his dying breath.

He’d make you cum for him, if it was the last fucking thing he did on this earth.

You were a sweaty, writhing mess beneath him and Simon couldn’t get enough of it. The taste of you, your scent, the softness of your skin and the fucking way you sounded had Simon’s brain in a daze.

“Oh, oh my god.” You cried out, your fingers digging harshly into your lieutenants scalp. The pleasure he was giving you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. A burning heat began to fill your insides, as a tingling feeling spread across your abdomen.

You felt yourself clench at the sensation, your thighs tightening around Simon’s head causing him to moan against your soaked core. His eyes lifted to you as he licked a firm strip through your folds, groaning at the taste.

“Simon!” You cried out, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair. “Please, please!”

He gave a hearty chuckle in reply, his fingers and tongue increasing their pace as wet, lewd sounds from his mouth and your pussy filled the air. It was sinful just how fucking good at this he was.

Simon watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your pretty lips parting as you let out a strangled cry of pleasure. The sight was euphoric, and had Simons cock aching.

He needed to be inside that pretty little pussy of yours, but he was a patient man. He wouldn’t give you his cock, not until he made you cum on his tongue first.

He pulled his face away for only a moment, throwing you a small smile as his fingers continued their assault on your core. “You gonna cum, pretty girl? I can feel you clench around my fingers, I know you’re close. Just let go, be a good girl and cum for me.”

You whimpered in reply, the tight feeling in your abdomen only growing at your lieutenants words. You’d never felt this before, never felt so weightless. You allowed yourself to focus on the sensations of Simon’s tongue, as it dragged through your soaked folds, and his fingers, pumping and curling against your walls. “I-I can’t.”

“You can, good girl. Just let go, I’ve got you.” Simon groaned into your heat, his hands squeezing reassuringly at your plush thighs. “Cum, now.”

It was as if an invisible cord snapped in your belly, as a feeling of complete and utter weightlessness filled your body, a pleasant buzz tingling inside your blood. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You let out a soft cry, your eyes rolling back into your head as you began to shake against your lieutenants grasp. “Oh, oh my god!”

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Simon pulled away from you, his mouth glistening from your arousal. The sight had the pleasant burn in your belly increasing. He looked so fucking hot.

“Simon.” You breathed, struggling to regain your senses. He made his way to you, crawling so that he was now hovering over you, a smile dancing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Simon cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “You were so fuckin’ good for me.”

You gave a weak nod, not trusting yourself to speak in that moment. You let your eyes flutter open, and found Simon looking at you intently, his lips parted ever so slightly.

You let your eyes flicker down, and saw Simon stroking at his impossibly hard cock. The sight made your mouth water, and had that invisible coil forming in your belly once more.

“You think you’re up for cummin’ again, love?”

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot. 

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time. 

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit. 

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava. 

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider. 

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast? 

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something. 

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’. 

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you. 

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.” 

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway. 

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?” 

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors. 

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t. 

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him. 

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle. 

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end. 

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs. 

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.  

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room. 

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get. 

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you. 

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes  a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same. 

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.” 

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.  

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close. 

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth. 

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants. 

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full. 

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts. 

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?” 

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles. 

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane. 

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats,  nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high. 

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance. 

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention. 

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being a Terrible “Dad”

In the league’s point of view, Billy has to be a terrible dad… and if he’s not their dad… why is a grown ass man hanging around with these kids? So for peace of mind, they assume Jr. and Mary are his kids. I mean, they kinda look like him. Kinda. Like, I can already see a good portion of them not really liking that he’s letting Freddy and Mary fight bloodthirsty monsters and villains. But, even the heroes that don’t mind that have to take a minute to process Marvel congratulating Mary for going off and doing something extremely reckless:

*They all just watched as Mary flew into an alien spaceship to take it down from the inside out. They knew nothing about the ship, just that it was hostile.*

Mary: *Flies back down from the ship, covered in soot. Lands by Marvel.*

Superman: *Flies over to them* “That was extremely reck—”

Billy: *cuts off* “Mary, that was amazing!”

Superman: “Cap, that wasn’t amazing. It was extremely reckless! She could’ve gotten herself killed!” *gestures to Mary wildly.*

Billy: “But she didn’t!” *gives thumbs up* “Come on, let’s get victory ice cream.”

*The two fly off*

or

*All of them are talking about their kids, eating together at a little lunch table in the Watchtower’s cafeteria like middle schoolers*

Superman: “I wouldn’t let Jon fight any of my villains alone. Most of them, anyways.”

Billy: “Why? Is he not strong enough?”

Superman: “Well, I’m sure he is, but I don’t want him to get hurt, or traumatized. Being a hero can be harsh at times. He’s just a kid.”

Billy: “So? Just cause he’s a kid doesn’t mean that he can’t fight. Just let him.”

Superman: “What? I can’t just let him. How would you feel if Junior or Mary had to fight Black Adam on their own?”

Billy: *shrugs* “Depends. Are they gonna fight him individually or together?”

Batman: *Eating a bat shaped sandwich, made by Alfred* “Individually.”

Billy: “Oh, yeah. Sure. I could trust them to handle Adam alone. I don’t think they could incapacitate him though. A couple times, when I’ve been busy, they’ve held him off for me until I get there.”

Flash: “You just let two little kids (Freddy and Mary look like pre-teens) go out and fight Black Adam? The same Black Adam that destroyed like a quarter of Metropolis in a day?”

Billy: “When you put it like that, it sounds crazy.” *Eats spaghettios*

Green Lantern: “Dude, it is crazy.”

Billy: “Wha? No it’s not. Wondy, when’d you start training for being a whole Amazonian warrior princess?”

Wonder Woman: “When I started adolescence.” *Eats ice cream*

Billy: “Seeeee? It’s fine.”

Martian Manhunter: “How old exactly are Mary and Junior?” *Also eats ice cream*

Billy: “Mary’s eleven and Junior’s twelve, they’re close enough.”

*All except Marvel exchange slightly concerned glances*

or

*Marvel and Junior are bickering next to one of the windows of the Watchtower.*

Black Canary: *Minding her own business and walks past them.*

Billy: “How about I slam your head through this window so we can really see if you can breathe in space, huh?”

*Canary pauses, and wow. Junior didn’t even flinch. That’s actually crazy. The bickering just got worse. This really doesn’t look good from a licensed therapist’s point of view.*

[hoshigray]

js thinking abt sukuna fucking reader and toji at the same time (you can add aftercare if you want) 🫦🫦

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - smutty then fluffy - size difference - double penetration; anal & vaginal + 2 dick! kuna - biting - back-to-front + missionary positions - prostate orgasm - light choking - pet names (baby, little girl, mama, princess) - aftercare; cleaning + massages + cuddles - mention of drool/spit.

Sukuna, ironically born as a cursed man, was blessed with something that most beings on this Earth lack.

“Fuuuck, goddamn, y’ feel so good, baby.” 

“Haaahhh, ohmyGo—Ahhh! S-so f’ll…”

And now, he uses it to please the two sprawled under his bow. 

In his shared quarters, the four-armed beast spends tonight in the comfort of his two partners. Candles lit to bask the room in a warm glow, nude bodies stripped of their clothes and situated upon the soft futon that cushions below them.

Toji lay first, his bare back to the soft surface while your back was glued to his front, exchanging sweat with the heat as he held your legs up by the back of your knees. Sukuna towers the both of you; his lower hands keep Toji’s arms spread for easier access to his two cocks—one for each of his companions. 

The top cock was buried into your cunt, clenching on the girth with every scrape of your upper wall, causing you to whimper uncontrollably. The lower one is currently inside Toji’s ass, pushing his frame with every push of the hips, which aids him into thrusting into your anus all the while. 

“OhhGaaahhd!” The air around is steamy; hot skin meshed onto yours, and wet kisses are placed on your neck and cheek by Toji. “Feel so good, so…biiig!”

“Haaah, heh, I know, mama,” the raven-haired one huffs hotly to your ear. “Y’re doin’ good, though…Hnnnm! Holyfuuck, ‘Kuna!” 

A guttural chuckle is heard while the tongue of his stomach teases your thighs with licks. “What did I do? Was it…this?” He snaps his pelvis, and both his dicks venture deep into the both of you. A poke to your cervix, combined with a graze to the tissue of his prostate, has you and Toji moan in unison. “Hmph, felt that good, huh?”

“—Ghhhh, fuck, y’re such a dick,” Toji laughs hoarsely while his face is guided by your hand to bring him in for a kiss. The two of you sigh at the feel of each other’s lips, your tongue licking his def scar while placing soft pecks on the corner of his mouth.

Four scarlet eyes narrow at the sight of his partners being intimate under him, unable to suppress the predatory purr of his grin. The mouth of his abdomen lays smooches to your tummy—albeit a little sloppy yet endearing—and he cups your cheeks to face him the moment your kiss with Toji breaks, heavy pants causing the air to get hotter. “Enjoyin’ yourself, aren’t you, little girl?” He sneaks another rut to have you both curl your toes.

Your hands come up to hold the giant’s face. “Nahaaa, Suk’naaa,” the way you say his name makes him gulp. “I’m close, so cl—Mmmphfuuck!!”

“Fuck, you smell good,” the scent of your lotion clouds his nostrils as he bends down, the addition of his weight cages both you and Toji. His upper right hand comes to your throat, pressing on it not to choke but enough to deepen your haze. The same goes for Toji with the wrap of his upper left hand. “Gonna be good and wring me out, right?”

“Yessss,” you nod with a ditzy smile. “Make us cummm like you know how…!” 

He liked the sound of that. “Then stay still, and let me end this.”

Sukuna releases both throats and uses his upper hands as leverage while flexing his abdomen, his pelvis hammering his cocks down to the hilt, slapping his heavy balls onto Toji’s taint. Wails and groans of pleasure are expressed in the room’s atmosphere. More hits to your womb has you wrap your arms around Sukuna’s wide neck, clamping your walls more onto your husbands’ dicks. The length inside Toji keeps rubbing his prostate, and the deep murmurs flying out his scarred mouth sound bewitching to your ear. 

It isn’t before long that you submit to the climb of your orgasm; the contraction of your asshole and cunt have the two men hiss. Toji is second to succumb to an orgasm, ejecting his load into your tight channel while burrowing his face close to your neck. The both of you climaxing on Sukuna’s shafts are too good to avoid, pushing him into releasing his semen into his mortal lovers with a grunt. Shocks are shared amongst each other, and Sukuna claims your lips with his own, shoving his tongue inside for you to tend and hum to.

A few more pumps of his hips before the behemoth lets his muscles relax, sighing deeply to your kiss until you need air, placing his heavy forehead on yours. All three figures calm down, allowing the sounds of crickets outside to act like a spell to center themselves. Sukuna’s exhale tickles your skin. “You two did well.”

Toji scoffs. “We hope so; puttin’ us through a workout.” The salmon-haired other begins to move, slowly withdrawing his lengths from his partners. You and Toji sigh breathlessly at the subtraction, and your body slides off the onyx-headed one. “So much fr’ takin’ a bath before this, huh, princess.”

You titter aimlessly. “At least we came prepared.” Your conversation is cut short as Sukuna returns with a wooden bucket and washcloth. He wrings the cloth of the water and damps it around your lower half, wiping the come that’s spilling out and messing your thighs. He massages your ankles with his lower hands while he works. “And as promised, Sukuna takes care of his mess.”He glares at you while you giggle. He then places your legs down and does the same to Toji, wiping his ass with the warm washcloth. 

“That’s true,” the mortal man chuckles as Sukuna pushes Toji’s left leg to his chest, cleaning the excess come trinkled to his bum. “Not gonna have us all sweaty and sticky fr’ nothin’.”

“Shut up and get ready for sleep,” he ignores you two laughing at him while he stands to dismiss the bucket and cloth out of the room. A hand comes up and quickly moves with the flick of his fore and middle finger, slicing the burning ends of the candles to darken the room. He finds the futon, grabs the comforter from behind, and positions himself between you and Toji—his upper arms pulling both of you closer for warmth to flourish.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you say with appreciation, answered by a low purl by the behemoth. You then cling close, “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night, baby.”

Crimson eyes don’t close until the two pairs of eyelids fall on their own, and Sukuna finally lets the darkness keep you three warm and safe.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[ace-turned-confused]

sea spray | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: a relaxing weekend break by the sea is just what you need, but spending it under the same roof as joel miller might not be the kind of relaxing you had in mind word count: 3,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, smut, m masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, spitting, creampie, overstimulation, joel's filthy mouth, praise kink, size kink a/n: i actually did spend the past weekend by the sea, unfortunately without joel miller 😔 written for @mermaidgirl30's Ocean Challenge! of course it took the entire timeframe of your challenge for inspiration to strike, but it was super fun! 🩵 big hugs to @morallyinept for beta'ing & the kind words, your message legit put the biggest grin on my face LMAO ily 💜

Going away with your parents for a long weekend is just what you need — walks along the cliff path, cocktails on the beach, lounging in the sun. Plus the bonus of free accommodation and your meals being paid for. You’re long overdue for a break and this will be a good change of scenery.

The bricks burn through your sandals as you unload your bags. Midday sun blazing down on you, you’re desperate for a cold shower after two hours of traffic to get here.

“Hello?”

You’re met with silence as you push open the front door, a rare breeze coming through the windows. They must’ve gone into town. Kicking off your shoes, you pad through to your room at the back of the house and dump your bags.

You peel your clothes off and run a shower, washing off the sweat and stress of the morning. Unpacking your bags, most of your weekend attire is swimsuits and dresses; you’ll just be floating around the house the rest of the day and decide on a blue and white check bikini, pulling on plain linen shorts.

Making your way upstairs, the rest of the house is still, the only sound coming from slow waves rolling against the rocks. Kelp bobs up and down in the swell and wispy clouds dot the sky, you pull your phone out to snap some pictures to send to your friends, relishing in the tranquillity.

You hear muted footsteps and turn around, expecting to see your parents come up the stairs. Instead, you’re met with Joel Miller — your dad's best friend with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on his hips.

“Oh! Didn’t uh- didn’t hear you come in sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker down as he adjusts his towel — he clears his throat and you snap your eyes back up to his face.

“I got in about half an hour ago, I just got out of the shower. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Your old man told me to come up for the weekend, he didn’t mention what time they’d be back this afternoon though.”

You nod and turn to look outside again, the image of Joel in his towel now burned into your mind. You don’t ask him about it — no possible explanation would stop your mind from wandering.

You were much younger the last time you saw him — just a sweet girl harbouring an innocent crush on a handsome man. Now you’re far from sweet, and that crush is far from innocent. This is the most you’ve ever seen of him — greying curls in every direction, wide chest into a soft tummy, dark trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his towel.

You can feel a wet spot forming on your bikini bottoms — so much for a relaxing weekend.

-

Joel’s seen you in passing and heard about your various achievements and adventures from your parents, but it’s been years since he spent so much time with you in such close quarters. He can’t remember you being so… grown up.

Seeing you stand there in just your bikini, your eyes flitting down to his towel, he almost instantly began to harden. Maybe some light conversation will calm him down.

“So, what you got planned for the rest of the day?”

You turn to face him again and he takes a steadying breath.

“I was gonna head down to the beach but it’s fucking hot out, so I think I’ll just be lazy here instead.”

“Pool’s nice if you’re keen on a swim.”

You slink past to head downstairs, stopping in front of him to look up at him.

“You wanna join me?”

“Think I’ll uh, sit this one out. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Scratching at the nape of his neck as you descend the stairs, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this weekend. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this — you’re young, spritely, his best friend’s daughter — but he watches out the window anyway as you pull down your shorts, glass in hand, and dip down into the water.

He sneaks off to his room before you can notice.

-

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted to the ceiling, he’s already fully hard. He lets the towel fall open and wraps a hand around his throbbing cock. He shouldn’t do this, but who’s going to know?

Stroking himself with long, slow pumps, he closes his eyes and all he can see is you. Ass peeking out the edge of your bottoms, your tits spilling out your bikini top, so much skin. You sighed as you sat down in the water, a breathy, satiated sound — he wishes he could make those sounds spill from your mouth.

Precome leaking from his tip, he’s reaching his end embarrassingly fast. Speeding up to fist himself tightly, he imagines your hand wrapped around his cock instead. He imagines burying his tongue, fingers, cock into your cunt, tight and wet and his to have however he pleases.

It takes just one, two, three more strokes of his cock and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a moan as he comes, spilling milky ropes across his hand and lower stomach. Using the same towel to clean up his mess, he tells himself he won’t do this again, he can’t do this again.

He shifts up to lean against the headboard as he comes down from his high, deciding to stay clear of you until your parents get home. Keeping you out of sight is the best way forward, even if he can’t keep you out of his mind.

-

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, nursing a Long Island iced tea and paging through your book. Joel doesn’t show face again, but it’s for the best — you can’t stop thinking about that damn towel and how easily it could slip down.

Your phone rings and pulls you from your daydreaming; you haul yourself out of the pool and pat yourself dry, fingertips wrinkled from the water. You see it’s your mom calling, and slide to answer.

You don’t get a chance to say hello and she’s bombarding you with questions.

“Hi, sweetie! How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have too much traffic. Oh! And did you see Joel? He’s with us for the weekend, maybe he went out for the day too.”

You certainly did see Joel. You still can even with your eyes closed.

“Hi, Mom. The drive was fine, and Joel’s been here the whole day.”

“That’s nice. I hope you don’t mind, you two always got along well so your father didn’t think to tell you beforehand. Listen, why don’t you and Joel come through to town for dinner with us? I’ll send you the restaurant name.”

“Yeah, okay sure. See you soon.”

“Bye, sweetie. See you.”

She hangs up the phone and you venture inside to find Joel, heading towards the spare room. Pressing your ear to the door, you don’t hear any movement. Maybe he’s sleeping.

“Joel?” You knock on the door and hear rustling, he responds a few moments later.

“Yeah? You can- you can come in.”

You nudge the door open and he’s sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to the same height his towel was hanging earlier and it takes everything you have not to stare, debate if he’s still got that towel on or is stark naked.

Stepping just over the threshold, you lean against the wall to steady yourself and focus your eyes on his face.

“My mom called, she said we must go into town to meet them for dinner. She texted me the address.”

“Sounds good, I can drive us. I’ll just uh, get ready.”

You nod and retreat from his room in silence — you’ll be able to hold a conversation once he’s fully clothed.

-

Tonight’s restaurant is right along the shoreline, carved into the cliffside. It’s a good climb down the hillside and you’re glad you’re wearing flats, mentally noting to go easy on the drinks tonight to make it back up again. Gentle waves lap against the rocks and the sea breeze is just the refresher you need after a hot summer day.

You’ve changed into a strappy dress, the hemline falling just above your knees and Joel’s in a loose button-down and board shorts. Your parents are sitting across from you, and they’d spent the better part of an hour asking you about work and romantic prospects.

Once satisfied with your answers, they turn to focus on each other, leaving you and Joel to your own devices. With them both engrossed in conversation, you try and test the waters.

You shift your legs under the table and bump your knee into Joel’s — his hand falters as he scoops more food onto his spoon, but doesn’t pull away. You push further, pressing your thigh against his and he stills completely, peering at you out of the corner of his eye.

The unfortunate combination of the summer heat and your heavy hand when pouring your drink earlier has made you fearless. You snake a hand below the table, resting it dangerously close to the growing bulge in his shorts.

He drops his spoon, catching your dad’s attention.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, uh… Yeah, fine.” He swallows and gives them a tight smile, waiting for them to continue their conversation.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Joel practically hisses at you under his breath, eyes flashing in your direction.

You ignore him and flatten your hand, unsure if the heat you can feel is radiating from him or yourself. You continue moving upwards, the tips of your fingers brushing against the outline of his cock.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whisper back to him, unmoving in your chair.

You start palming him through his shorts, angling your head to look at him and a fresh wave of arousal floods your panties.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be doin’ this. Not here.”

“Say stop and I will.”

His eyes flutter closed, taking in a shaky breath. It feels like he’s already fully hard.

Just when you think you’ve won, your parents stand up and you rip your hand away, heart racing in your chest. Caught up in your teasing you hadn’t noticed they’d finished dessert and paid the bill. You look at your dad with wide eyes, hoping nobody saw anything.

“Nice dinner, everyone. Good to have you here, kiddo. We’ll see you back at the house, been a long day.”

“Um, yeah, we’ll follow you guys.” You hope you sound less startled than you feel. 

He rounds the table, a hand coming down on your and Joel’s shoulders and he walks off. You and Joel stand to follow him — your mind foggy with lust, you can feel his eyes burn into you, but you don’t dare look at him.

-

Arriving home after a charged car ride with Joel, your parents say goodnight and their door shuts behind them. The room falls silent, you’re unsure who will make the first move. Joel grabs onto your arm, dragging you through the house.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna finish what you started.”

He pulls your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Pushing you onto your bed, his eyes trail up and down your figure as you lie before him.

“What were you doing all afternoon? Didn’t see you at all.”

“You wanna know what I was doing?”

You nod and he leans down to speak into your ear, voice low and raspy.

“I was thinkin’ of you, baby. That skimpy little bikini of yours got me all hard, so instead of spendin’ my time out by the beach, I was jacking off in my room and all I could think of was you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, a small whine escaping at his words.

“Thought a lotta things about how you’d be, now we’re gonna see how much of it is true.”

He pushes you down to lie on your back, pulling your panties down. You try to cross your legs out of habit and he grabs your knees, spreading you open before him.

“Now we’re shy, are we? Don’t want me seeing this pretty pussy?”

He cups you entirely and you tilt your hips, chasing the friction of his palm against your clit.

“After that little game you played just now, you’re gonna take what I give you, and you’re gonna enjoy it.”

He wraps his arms under your legs, dragging you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees, draping one leg over each of his shoulders. You look down at him and he stares into your eyes, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad stripe up through your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles and your head falls back against the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Joel.”

He chuckles into you, causing you to moan again.

“Better than the boys you normally go out with?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, tongue circling your clit again and he drags his fingers up and down, coating them in your arousal. Pushing two fingers into your cunt, the stretch is already far more than with your own — you’re not sure how you’ll ever satisfy yourself after this.

He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them upwards and you feel heat spreading across your abdomen, your legs just beginning to tremble. You move your hands into his hair, tugging on his curls and he groans against you, speeding up his movements.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Please, Joel. Oh, god, please.”

“Go on then, come. I know you can.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, legs going stiff as you come on his fingers and his movements don’t stop, tongue flicking back and forth over your clit, fingers fucking into you relentlessly to drag out your high. With no chance to recover, he pushes a third finger into you, his pace never faltering.

“Joel, please. It’s too much.”

He pulls off from you just enough to speak, a devilish grin on his face.

“Say stop and I will. I told you you were gonna take what I gave you.”

Mouth latching onto you again, he ignores your protesting, eyes boring into your own. You can see him rutting into the side of the bed and your moans turn into whines and whimpers, the heat pooling at the base of your spine more intense than before.

“Come on, sweetheart, be a good girl for me.”

Pushing his free hand down onto you, he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing over that one spongy spot and your vision blurs. You dig your heels into his back, hips lifting off the bed as you come again, a warm stream of liquid soaking his beard that’s scratching at your inner thighs.

Chest heaving as you come down, he pulls his fingers out and sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean.

“Better than I imagined.”

He leans over you, shoving his other two sticky fingers into your mouth and you whine at tasting yourself on him.

“All that messing around and look where it got you.”

He unbuttons his shirt agonisingly slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes are blown wide, beard slick with your release as he trails his fingertips up and down your leg, the small hairs standing in his wake. You close your legs and flop back onto the bed, already feeling spent.

“Just one more thing I needa see for myself.”

Finally pulling his shorts down, that tantalising trail of hair you saw this morning spreads into wiry curls surrounding the base of his cock. He’s bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, fully stiff as he takes himself in his hand with long strokes — thick, throbbing, and precome pearling from his tip.

“Are you gonna fuck my mouth?”

He draws circles into your leg, still stroking himself.

“Not this time. Wanna feel how tight this pussy’s gonna squeeze my cock.”

Not this time. You clench around nothing in anticipation, and he starts crawling up the bed to you.

“Be good and maybe we can use that mouth of yours another day.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, Joel drags himself through your wetness, nudging the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Gonna be a tight fit, sweetheart. Might just ruin this cunt for anyone else.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, both of your eyes locked on where you join. Pushing in just past his tip, your mouth falls open with a strangled moan.

“Warned you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” All you do is whimper in response.

“Gonna feel even better.”

He sheaths himself completely inside of you, hair at his base pressed against your clit and balls pressed against your ass. It’s the most stretched out you’ve ever been — it’s also the best you’ve ever felt and he hasn’t even started moving.

He leans over you and starts grinding his hips, pulling your bra down. Pinching a hardened nipple between his fingers, he takes the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue just the same as before.

You lock your ankles behind his back, legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him as if you’d float away. He lifts his head, a trail of spit connecting his lips to your breast. Bringing a hand up to your face, he squeezes your cheeks to force your mouth open, looking into your eyes as he spits into the back of your throat.

You moan quietly, clenching around his length and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Dirty girl. You let other boys spit into your mouth, too?”

You shake your head clumsily and tighten your legs, trying your hardest to grind yourself against him.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened to it’s too much?”

He straightens up and pries your legs off him, pressing them into your chest. His eyes are dark as he watches how you squirm and stretch around him. He angles his head forward, letting another string of saliva fall from his mouth onto your cunt and it drips down around his cock.

Using two fingers, he puts slight pressure on your clit but doesn’t move.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside you. Understand?”

You’re not sure how to string words together on your own accord anymore, clit throbbing and cunt stretched out, mind filled with just Joel.

“Hey, repeat after me, come on: I’m gonna be a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be a… a good girl.”

“Next: I’m gonna come on your big cock.”

“I’m gonna come- on your big cock.”

“And to finish off: You’re gonna come inside me.”

“You’re… gonna come inside me.”

“Was that so difficult?”

He readjusts his grip on your legs and starts pounding into you, the force of his thrusts shifting you up and down, your clit rubbing against his steady fingers. Your moans are only broken by the need for more air, your voice becoming hoarse and getting higher and higher in pitch as he keeps going harder.

You start clamping down on him, the day’s heat and your teasing and the way he’s using you relentlessly quickly becoming too much.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been such a good girl. Come one last time for me and I’ll fill you up.”

His words push you over the edge and he keeps fucking into you as you come. You reach down to hold onto him, your hands wrapping around his arm and you dig your nails into his skin, carving out crescent moons.

Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear him grunting, his resolve finally breaking after a few more thrusts as he spills inside of you, your walls coated in his spend as the warmth spreads throughout your body. He loosens his hold on your legs, bringing them down and massages your tired muscles.

Pulling out of you, you feel his come slowly leak out and down your folds, landing in thick droplets on the sheets. You turn onto your side, sleep already creeping up on you and he drops down behind you, his chest pressed against your back and softening cock against your ass.

“We’re going to the beach tomorrow, and I wanna see what other little outfits you got with you. Try another game like you did tonight, though, and I’m gonna have to put you in your place again.”

You huff a laugh, a gentle, satisfied smile on your face. This long weekend is suddenly far more exciting than you prepared for.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[silkjade]

CLASSICAL CONDITIONING !

⤀ synopsis: careful how you tease the duke ⤀ cw: fem!reader, 'good girl', established relationship, unprotected + rough sex, overstimulation, use of handcuffs, lil bit of dom!wrio — ꒰ MDNI ꒱ ⤀ notes: i blacked out and when i came to, this was written && sitting pretty in my drafts

For the duration of your relationship, you’ve made it a habit to bring wriothesley tea every afternoon. It’s something that’s become so ingrained in his routine, that when the noon bell chimes two, he’s compelled to sit a little straighter, exchanging unrequited glances with the large double doors of his office.

As the minutes tick by, he finds himself a little more irritable, finds it admittedly more difficult to focus on the paperwork at hand. You're late and it's not until a quarter past, that he finally hears the familiar tap tap on the door, that indicates your much anticipated arrival.

By the time you make it to the top of the stairwell, the fragrance of freshly brewed tea has long filled the room, yet your boyfriend's eyes remain trained on the documents before him. Unbeknownst to you however, he's been reading through the same line for the umpteenth time, clearly distracted without your little midday pick-me-up.

“For your hard work,” you hum, setting the teacup to his side before stepping away and just missing—though in his opinion, dodging—his expectant lips.

Wriothesley blinks. It’s neither the tea nor the pastries that he looks forward to everyday, but the kisses that always follow — until today, apparently, where you’ve left him with the terrible notion that his lips are to remain grievously untouched.

He clears his throat. “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hmm,” pouting, you tilt your head, brows loosely knitted with cluelessness. “I don’t think so.”

Tour duke leans back in his chair, arms crossed, before he huffs in amusement. “Single handedly halting the productivity of the warden,” he lets out a low whistle, “Could be a pretty hefty crime you know.”

“S’that so…” you seat yourself on the edge of his desk; it’s the playful little grin twitching at the corners of your lips that give you away. “Well what’re you gonna do about it, Your Grace?”

It's quite cute how you giggle at the way he’s wrapped around your finger, and given the lovestruck look in his eyes, he truly does not mind at all. however, that's not to say he finds it fair.

Because although they say it’s unwise to bite the hand that feeds you, this is not the nation of wisdom; here in Fontaine, justice demands an equitable arrangement, and as the formidable duke of meropide, it's in his right to enact his own... So it really should be of no surprise when Wriothesley shows no remorse as he drills into your gushing cunt, hellbent on conditioning you to cum on his cock and his cock only.

He makes sure to imprint the very shape of him into your walls: from the fat mushroom tip that first slips through your sticky folds, to the large bump of each vein dragging across your velvet insides — your little hole greedily swallows every thick inch of him. over and over, every thrust sheathes him to the hilt, and the heavy sounds of skin against skin echo through the room.

The sudden cold of his fingers on your clit sends a shudder through your core, jolting as he begins to press and toy with the nub, legs twitching while his heavy balls continue to slap against your puffy pussy lips. You squirm in his hold — far too sensitive to cum again, but you're so close.

Your hips bounce back and forth, alternating between the hard edge of the desk that presses sharply into your skin, and the merciless ruts that penetrate so deep inside. But like the doting lover he is, Wriothesley takes note of your woes and makes a decision for you. He presses his weight into you, grazing his teeth lightly down the nape of your neck.

"Ah ah," he coos, "C'mon you can take it. Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

It’s a shaky, dreamy imitation of your voice, that nods along to the thin facade of agency; with your wrists cuffed behind your back, and body bent over, imprisoned between the warden and his desk, the only thing you can do is to take it.

Still, your walls tighten around him nonetheless, prompting him to angle his hips, hitting that spot with a precision that only comes with experience. You keen beneath him, spiraling into yet another dose of exhilarating bliss as you cum again, creaming all over the girthy shaft still buried in your wet mess of a cunt.

And as you're still shuddering from the intensity, consumed completely in the pleasure, wriothesley continues to grind your insides. He's far from finished and intends to carry on until you’re blissed beyond any semblance of sane, drunk on the memory of being molded to his fat cock.

notes2: reblogs and feedback appreciated, as always ^^ ty for reading !

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.

about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”

after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.

“hah?”

you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.

katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.

not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.

you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.

just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.

katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.

“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.

shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”

“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.

bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.

freaking tease.

it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”

“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”

“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”

“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.

you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”

you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.

this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“

“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.

“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.

bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”

he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.

“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.

a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.

every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.

you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.

“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.

he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”

“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”

katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.

“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”

“oh…oh fuck you.”

“‘m trying babe.”

“fuck you. slut.”

“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[lovebugism]

#20 from the jealousy, jealousy prompt list with steve pls 🫶🏼

steve doesn't realize he's in love with you until he gets a glimpse of you with someone else (fwb to lovers, fluff, 1.2k)

Steve Harrington spent the entire summer thinking he was the only one who thought your Scoops Ahoy uniform was way hotter than should be allowed. 

The thigh-high socks. The short skirt. The pretty ascot tied around your neck. It was a diabolical concoction. And, yeah, sure, the sailor theme was an acquired taste, but Steve has always been a firm believer that you could wear anything and make him fall to his knees. He’d worship you like a goddess in a goddamn parka, he’s that far gone for you.

The only problem is he thought he was the only one.

He loved you so much that everything else just became white noise. There was never any room for anyone else to love you ‘cause he adored you the most. Or he thought so, at least — until a pretty boy with circle glasses and a chiseled jawline talked you up at the front counter. For ten fucking minutes straight.

He watches the stranger cross the threshold of Scoops, with a sundae in his hand and a dumb smile on his stupid face. “Who was the guy?” Steve blurts from the opened partition the second he’s gone. He folds his golden arms over the countertop, biceps threatening to burst from the navy sleeves of his uniform.

“A friend,” you answer casually as you sort change in the register.

His fluffy brows pinch then relax a moment later. He pouts at the vague response because he can’t handle not knowing. “Seems like you two are real close,” he lilts, trying hopelessly to play it cool.

“We are, actually,” you tell him. You drop the remaining quarters into their designated section and flash him a pretty look over your shoulder. “I’ve known him since I was a teenager— sophomore year, I think?”

Steve nods slowly, feigning interest. “Ah. High school sweethearts, then?”

You slide the opened register closed with your hip. It clunks shut behind you as you spin around to face him. You walk the short distance to the back counter, skirt swishing around your thighs as you go. Steve tries hard not to pull away when you lean in towards him, choosing to bask in your unwavering stare and intoxicating perfume instead.

“You should watch what you say, Harrington,” you caution lowly. “I’m gonna start to think you’re jealous.”

He scoffs. “I am not jealous.”

“No?”

“No! No way,” he answers, too quickly to be convincing. “We’re— We said we were gonna do the whole unlabelled thing, so… That’s what we’re doing.”

You nod once. “Great,” you hum with a tightlipped smile, spinning away once more.

The door to the breakroom squeaks open a moment later. Steve lingers in the entryway, shifting on his feet like a nervous child in a sailor’s uniform. Crossing his arms over his chest, he peers at you through his lashes. 

“But it wouldn’t be, like, the worst thing in the world if I said I wanted to be the only one who, you know, looks into your eyes, and… holds your hands, and… hears you laugh…” he wonders lowly, scrunching the bridge of his nose. “Right?”

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling when you look back at him. “No,” you shrug, all cool despite your skipping heart. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Good,” Steve grins.

The small of your back digs into the counter’s edge when you turn to face him. You meet his pretty face with a sheepish one. “But it does go against everything we talked about it.”

The boy shrugs. “Well, then, screw it,” he blurts. 

“What?”

“I take it back.”

You laugh before you mean to. The golden sound echoes through the empty store. “That quickly?”

“Hush,” he pouts.

“It took me talking to some guy — who might as well be a stranger to me now, by the way — to change your mind about wanting to date me?” you elaborate with narrowed eyes.

Steve cowers under your stare. “…Kinda. Yeah.”

“So, what?” you scoff. “We’re boyfriend-girlfriend now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You grin up at him while he approaches you, all slow like he’s stalking prey — only you don’t entirely mind being hunted. “Pretty soon, we’ll be playing house if we’re not careful,” you joke, smoothing your palms up his torso.

A crooked grin blossoms on his pink mouth at the thought. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually,” he mumbles lowly.

“Steve…” you huff.

He laughs and cradles your jaw between softly calloused palms. “What?” he hums as he ducks down to kiss you. Your lips lock in a fleeting kiss — an innocuous spearmint-strawberry-chapstick concoction.

You let him kiss you, but your pout never wavers. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to move on,” you murmur.

“I like you?” he shrugs. “So what?”

“So what?” you parrot with a laugh. “We’re not kids anymore, you know? Relationships are pretty serious now, Steve.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

You meet his doe-eyed look with a sterner glare. “That’s the problem. That’s why we agreed to keep things lowkey. ‘Cause you can’t be serious about anything.”

“I can’t be serious about some things,” Steve insists with a boyish twist to his scruffy features. You arch your brow to egg him on. “Well, you, for starters— I haven’t even looked at anyone since I started seeing you, so… That’s gotta be a start, right?”

Your brows scrunch softly together. You don’t mean to look as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “You haven’t?”

“No,” he answers, chiseled features swirled like he’s tasted something sour. The thought never even crossed his mind despite distinctly keeping your relationship (or lack thereof, maybe) completely casual. “Have you?”

“No! I just… I thought that maybe you were, you know, keeping your options open or whatever.”

“So that means you’re not canoodling with Mister Jawline, right?” he jokes with a hopeful glint in his honeyed gaze.

You roll your eyes but decide to humor him anyway. “No, Steve,” you deadpan. 

He grins, prettier than should be allowed. “Good.”

You squint up at him. “Which means you’re not canoodling with Miss Redhead-Nice-Boobs, who comes in every week just to talk to you. Right?”

Steve’s brows furrow. His dark eyes flit between both of yours as he tries to figure out who exactly you’re referring to. “Who?” he wonders with a cartoonish lilt to his voice.

You’re pout deepens ‘cause you don’t know what he’s playing at. Her name’s Cherry — which you think is pretty easy to remember, considering her fiery auburn curls and ruby red lipstick. She’s tall and lean and effortlessly beautiful. Too pretty to be jealous of. You can’t help but admire her.

So Steve’s confusion is equally dumbfounding.

“You do like me, don’t you?” you murmur with a suspicious squint.

He laughs. “Does that surprise you?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

His nose scrunches. “Still wanna be boyfriend-girlfriend with me, though?”

You purse your lips to the side and pretend to ponder the question “Sure,” you shrug after a few moments, rising to the tips of your toes to smack a quick kiss to his mouth. 

You greet a group of customers a second later, while Steve restocks the tubs of ice cream. Totally casual. Not at all lovesick.

Well… maybe a little.

[domuspeccati]

Day 5 : Dulled

Ft. Yuna

Kink : Sensory Depreviation

Yuna crosses her legs while sitting on the floor. Lost in her own world, she sits with her headphones on. “This song is so good!” Yuna exclaims, excited to listen to something new by one of her favorite artists.

Chaeryeong walks by. “Oh, you finally got around to it, huh?” she asks Yuna. A laugh echoes in the hallway. Chaeryeong continues to head to the kitchen, her bare feet hitting the floor with each of her soft yet deliberate steps. “IT GETS BETTER WITH EACH LISTEN!” Her voice booms throughout the living quarters.

Yuna turns the volume up as the song progresses. Tuning the world out once more after the interruption from her friend, she closes her eyes. Yuna hums the chorus to learn the melody as it comes back around.

After a couple of minutes, she pauses the next song. “I need to go back,” Yuna tells herself. She then puts the first song on repeat and resumes playing the music. Her voice echoes throughout her bedroom while singing the song.

“Come here!” Chaeryeong calls out to Yuna. Realizing that she likely can’t be heard, she says it again but louder. “COME HERE!” Chaeryeong walks over to the door. “YOU HAVE A VISITOR!” She opens the door slowly. “Oh, hey! Sorry that you had to hear me shouting. She’s on a music binge again.”

You laugh nervously and take your shoes off. “No worries,” you say while touching Chaeryeong’s shoulder. As you step inside, the familiarity of the abode hits you. “Is she able to talk right now?” Your shoes are placed by the door and you make yourself at home.

Chaeryeong nods. “In her room as always,” she informs you. “I’ll go get her. Just sit on the sofa or get a snack.” Chaeryeong smiles and walks back to Yuna’s room. “YOU!” she shouts. “LOOK AT ME!”

Yuna looks up from her phone. The noise is muffled but she can tell that someone is talking. “Hmm?” Yuna pauses her music and looks up at Chaeryeong. “What is it? I’m in the zone!” Her whining grows old quickly and she can see that her friend’s patience is rapidly wearing thin.

She pulls her friend up by her wrists. “He’s here,” Chaeryeong says as Yuna is pulled up to her feet.

Yuna looks around. “Who?” She is pulled closer to Chaeryeong. The girls look each other in the eyes. “Do you mean my friend?” Yuna smiles as she thinks about the possibility of you paying her a visit.

Chaeryeong laughs hard. “Yes, bitch!” She hits Yuna on her shoulder. “Turn your headphones off and go talk to your man or whatever he is. I’m gonna go to give both of you some space.” Chaeryeong grabs her bag and heads for the door, eager to make space for you and Yuna to get closer.

You look over at the door. “Oh, leaving already?” you ask Chaeryeong. She looks back at you and nods, giving you a thumbs-up as a secondary form of confirmation. “Well I hope you have fun. All of us need to hang out soon.”

“I’d love to set up a hangout now that Lia is available again.” Chaeryeong opens the door and puts her shoes on. “I was gonna grab a snack before I left, but I’ll just grab something on the way home. Have fun, lovebirds!” She closes the door and begins her walk back to the place where she stays.

Yuna runs in your direction. “Hey, you!” She leaps into your lap, happy to see you. “It’s been two weeks since you last came over here. It’s been so lonely without you and I’m not into girls so I haven’t been able to get myself off with anyone who’s been here.”

You smack her ass. “Well, you know we’re not dating, right?” The question reaches her ears and she nods while making eye contact. “Then why didn’t you just go out and get some? Nothing’s stopping you.” You laugh and shake your head. “Nothing stopped me from getting off with another girl.”

She draws on your chest with one of her pointer fingers. “No one fucks me like you do.” Yuna tries to take your shirt off, eager to get your cock at the first possible chance. “No one is open to trying as much stuff as you are either.”

“I take pride in that.” Your friend with benefits stands up when you motion for her to do so. “I had a plan today. Hearing that you have been listening to music gave me another idea to add to that.” You stand up, ready to walk to the bedroom. “Is my bag still where I left it? It should have some unused stuff in there.”

Yuna nods energetically. “Yeah, it’s still back there.” She points to the bedroom. “You said something about a blindfold last time. I put it on when I was drunk a few days ago and almost fell over. The girls took turns looking through the bag.” Yuna pouts and sprints back to the room. “I hope you didn’t mind!”

You exhale softly. “It’s going to be a very long night.” With a determined step, you follow her to the bedroom. Once you actually get into the room, you stop next to the bed. “You’re totally getting punished for this.” One of your hands comes across her ass hard.

She emits a yelp and jumps onto the bed, pretending to be scared. “Oh, no…” Yuna hums softly, the song from earlier being hummed under her breath. “Please, anything but that! I definitely don’t want to be fucked senseless to realize the error of my ways.” Yuna snickers as she sees you reach into the bag.

“I need you to tell me that they didn’t touch the second compartment of the bag.” You turn to see Yuna shaking her head. “Good girl. This part of the bag is just for you and I.” A hand dives into the other part of the bag, You pull out a gag and another tool that you hide from Yuna’s sight.

Yuna gets excited when she sees the gag. “A gag and blindfold?” she asks you. “Sign me the fuck up!” The girl continues to hum while you rummage through the bag. She realizes that the plan to dull her senses is going to be thrilling for both of you. Yuna patiently waits for you to gather everything.

You fully turn to Yuna with the gag and blindfold in your hands. “I’m still missing something.” The objects are placed on the bed. Your brain tries to figure out what to add before the idea pops into your head in a mere matter of seconds. “Have you been using your headphones a lot?”

“Um…” Yuna looks over at her headphones. “Of course I have! I can get lost in music all day.” She doesn’t realize that the words will come back to bite her in the ass. Her legs open as she teases you with her lack of underwear.

The ideas run through your head as you approach Yuna. “Put them on,” you instruct her. As Yuna grabs her headphones and puts them back on, you point to her phone. “Play whatever you were listening to earlier.” One of your hands rubs Yuna’s thigh while you stare past her shorts to faintly see her pussy lips at an angle.

She begins to get lost in her own world once again. Seeing that you are interested in starting the encounter, Yuna hands you her phone. “You control the vibes,” she remarks as the device is handed to you. Yuna then grabs the shorts and pulls them down, making her lower half fully nude. Now that her pussy and legs can be seen in all of their glory, Yuna spreads her legs and then spreads her pussy with two fingers.

You get lost in the view, your eyes immediately going to her lower lips. Not wanting to get distracted, you shift your focus back to the original plan. One hand grabs the gag. “Put this on,” you demand. As Yuna stares at you, you release a hard sigh.

Yuna sees you flick your wrist to tell her to turn over. Not wanting to be punished more, she rolls over. Yuna then gets on all fours, getting herself ready for doggystyle. “Fuck me like you would if you hadn’t seen me in months.” Yuna is exceedingly hungry for her favorite rod and it shows all too well.

“Oh, I won’t have an issue with that.” You reach in the direction of Yuna’s mouth while holding the gag. She stays still, making sure to be obedient. Once she opens her mouth, you adjust the gag to make sure it fits properly and somewhat comfortably.

She looks down when your hands pull away. A bright red ball is held in her mouth, just barely able to be seen when she looks down. Yuna gets more aroused as you set her up. She can’t resist the urge to make a soft moan. It’s as much noise as she’s capable of, but it’s enough for her as the setup continues.

You then reach for the blindfold. “Have fun soaking the bed,” you joke. The blindfold is placed over Yuna’s eyes, the opaque fabric shielding her eyes from the world. Your hands pull the blindfold to fit snugly over her eye sockets as you bring both ends back behind her head.

Yuna starts to drool a little bit, unable to hold it in. The girl tries to hum an indistinguishable melody through the gag but all it does is force more fluid out of her wet mouth. Deciding to stay silent for as long as she can, Yuna keeps her head still so you can tie the blindfold to completely restrict her vision.

“Did you know…” You trail off mid-sentence to focus on tying the blindfold without it being so tight that it hurts her. “The word ‘blindfold’ is derived from a Middle English word and, by proxy, Old English? It comes from a verb that means ‘to be stricken blind’.” After the explanation, you yank her hair playfully. “I know you can still hear me. The music isn’t cranked up yet.”

She rolls her eyes. Yuna nods to show that she’s still listening. After nodding, she looks down again but of course is unable to see anything except the back of the blindfold. Yuna closes her eyes, realizing that it doesn’t make a difference because she sees the same thing regardless.

You grab one of her hands. As you use Yuna’s finger to unlock her phone, you get antsy. “This one can be good,” you muse. Her phone is held and a song is selected. The song begins to play and you look at Yuna. The blindfolded, deafened, and gagged girl stays on all fours with her knees and palms against the bed.

Yuna arches her back. She tries to entice you without uttering a single noise. Yuna then keeps her back arched while your hand grabs her ass. While she tries to anticipate what you’re going to do to her next, the rubbing of skin against her skin says it all.

You guide your shaft to her pussy. The shaft is then slapped against her pussy lips with force. It makes your member twitch when it comes in contact with her wet folds. “This will be a joy.” Your cock penetrates Yuna with ease, sliding into her pussy to initiate the pounding from behind.

She drips onto the bed. Yuna has been secretly wanting this kind of sex to happen for a long time. The girl had wanted to tell you, but she never knew when it would be the right time to bring it up. The sensation of being used while her favorite music is played excites her even more.

“Someone has been waiting for that thrust, huh?” You thrust hard, catching Yuna off guard. She stays on all fours, taking the doggystyle fucking like a champ. The sight is enough to make you go crazy, but you don’t want to fuck the girl senseless just yet. “Your body doesn’t play fair, does it?”

Yuna moans in agreement. She knows that her sinful body was made for sex. She knows that you love every inch of her, from her bratty lips to her fuckable ass and pussy. Yuna tries to contain her enthusiasm, but taking your cock appears to be her favorite thing in the world at this moment.

You then reach for her phone and turn up the volume. It is almost loud enough to where you can hear it through the headphones. You monitor how long it stays loud because a girl with damaged hearing wouldn’t be good since it would ruin her love of music. Walking the fine line between blaring it and straight up deafening Yuna, you crank it until she reaches up to try and take the headphones off.

Shaken up by the loud music, Yuna forgets why she’s on the bed. The harsh thrust reminds her of what she’s doing and what her role is in all of it. As the volume of the music goes down, she gets comfortable once more. The startling made her drool a little more than normal since she was tempted to scream.

Deciding to put the phone back down, you test how loud it really is. “Can you hear me?” you ask Yuna. When she doesn’t respond, you know that you’ve found the perfect volume for her music.

Yuna has no choice but to take the backshots as they come. She looks back at you, or at least in the general direction of you because the blindfold is in the way, attempting to read your lips. Seeing that she can’t decipher anything, Yuna looks back down at the bed and clutches tightly. If she could speak, she would be cursing and screaming like her life depended on it, but in an enjoyable way.

Yuna’s silence pleases you. At about that time, she groans through the gag. The muffled sounds coming from her excite you even more and you let it be known through the plentiful amount of thrusting that you’re doing.

You then reach for her hair. Being careful to not yank her head so hard that the headphones come off, you wrap Yuna’s hair around one of your hands. The other hand reaches down to rub her clit, playing with her pearl as her clam gets soaked. “That’s more juice on my hand than I’ve ever had on my face.”

She drools ferociously when you pull her hair. Yuna’s eyes get wide behind the blindfold and she tries to delay her orgasm. “He’s going to absolutely blow my back out,” Yuna thinks as you make her ass clap hard with each motion from your hips.

You proceed to give her exactly what she thought you’d give her. Your hand that’s playing with her clit continues to go through the motions, your fingers rubbing it and pleasuring it in every possible way. The hand that is pulling her hair yanks hard one time just for the hell of it, seeing if you can get a reaction out of the depraved girl.

The girl can’t believe the strength of your thrusts. Having never been fucked this hard before, Yuna grips the bed as tight as she can physically grip it. She hopes that her legs don’t give out, which would cause her to be in position for pronebone. Yuna enjoys having her back arched in doggystyle, so she tries to hold the position as well as she can.

Her grip on your cock feels unreal. You keep pounding harder, the cock that’s inside of her throbbing as it tries not to explode too early. Deciding to slow down, you make deep and measured thrusts similar to how you would enjoy fucking a sex toy for the first time.

Yuna’s orgasm builds. She can tell that she’ll reach climax before you. There is no way for her to hold on. There is no reason for her to hold on either. Yuna knows that the pleasure is way too much for her to take. The muffled moans become more frequent and the drool pools beneath her.

As she cums, you feel a sensation surrounding your member. The spray has succeeded in pushing you out of her. You know that if there was no gag, she’d be screaming your name right now. The juices soak the sheets and your cock as the hot juice continues to come out. “That’s a fucking big one,” you tell her even though you know that she couldn’t possibly hear you right now.

You wait for her to finish climaxing as you rub your cock against her lower lips. Once she’s stopped releasing her fragrant nectar, your cock re-enters her. Yuna’s hole grips it once more, her juices acting as lubricant for what will likely be the last act of this play.

Her body somehow takes it even better than before. Yuna cries softly, not out of discomfort, but out of enjoyment. Her emotions are running wild following her equally wild orgasm. Yuna tries to keep from drooling even more but the sensation makes the eyes and mouth release more fluid.

“I’m gonna cum,” you say, moaning as the pace is picked up yet again. You didn’t think that your orgasm would be so soon after hers, but you also didn’t know that Yuna would completely drench every single inch of your rod and a large portion of the bed as well.

The orgasm is going to be merciless and you know it. You always cum hard with Yuna, so all you can do is brace yourself. Hoping that you don’t exhaust yourself or overdo it, you slow down and hit as deep as you possibly can to make sure that every bit of your shaft is felt and constricted by your favorite hole.

One of your hands grips her hip and the other pulls her hair again. After realizing that it will now be mere moments until you blow, you place both of your hands on Yuna’s waist. Your fingers dig into her hips and hold on like you’re trying to keep yourself from being blown away.

You close your eyes and feel your toes curl. The moment that you’ve been building up to has finally arrived. With a satisfied groan, you pump Yuna full of seed. The cum travels deep inside, filling her with a hard initial spurt as you keep thrusting, albeit much slower and shallower than before.

Yuna grips the bed until her knuckles almost change color, loving the feeling of the creampie. Every single sow thrust brings more spurts of semen. Once you finally finish, her mind feels fuzzy, almost as if she became inebriated in the process of being fucked.

You reach for her phone and turn the music off. “How was it?” you ask Yuna now that she can hear you. The headphones are pulled off of her head. Your hands then go for the gag and remove it with a short series of deft motions. “I’ll let you do the rest by yourself.” The cock comes out of her.

“I didn’t want it to end,” Yuna admits. She removes the blindfold, undoing it from the back before revealing her eyes again. “Fuck, that’s so bright after all that time with this over my eyes.” Yuna laughs and collapses, her torso now resting against the bed while she drips your cum all over the sheets.

You carefully inspect her used body with your eyes. “Well that’s good.” You jump into bed with her, immediately grabbing Yuna’s body and pulling it closer. “I threw you off the deep end to see if you could take it. You took it pretty well, so now we can focus on doing each of the senses one by one.”

Yuna moans as she touches her freshly used pussy. “Yes please.” She collects some sperm on her fingers before bringing them up to her mouth. “Just not right now. I need a while to recover from that.” Yuna sucks her fingers clean and chuckles before closing her eyes to catch a quick nap.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hot tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, and your teeth were drawing blood from your bottom lip as you struggled not to cry out. You were currently in Ghosts quarters on base, and neither of you could afford to get caught in such a compromising position.

Simon was by far the biggest man you’d ever been with, in more ways than one. His cock was long, girthy and practically splitting you in half at this very moment. You truly did not think he’d fit.

“Simon.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as you struggled to adjust to his size. “‘S too big.”

“Shhh pretty girl, it’ll fit.” Simon cooed, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You let out a whimper as Simon continued to push himself inside of you, your walls stretching in ways you didn’t know possible to accommodate his size.

“You’re such a good girl, my good girl.” Simon praised you, finally bottoming out inside of you. “Fuckin’ hell, this pussy is taking me so well.”

Any pain or discomfort you may have felt immediately vanished upon hearing the soft grunts that escaped from Simon’s lips as he began to move, his cock sliding against your velvety walls. The noises he was making was music to your ears, causing you to clench around your lieutenant’s length.

“So fucking good, sweetheart. Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else.” Simon groaned, struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re mine, and mine alone, you got that?”

You gave a weak nod in response, falling limp in Simon’s arms as he wrapped them tightly around the small of your back, and pulling you close to him.

Simons movements had you seeing stars, your pussy stuffed so unbelievably full you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening- after years of pining after each other, you were finally in bed together.

“Don’t care if the whole base will hear, I need to hear you.” Simon moaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand. “Moan for me, sweetheart. Let me hear what pretty little sounds you can make for me.”

You lost all self control in that moment, a guttural moan escaping your throat as Simon quickened his pace. “Simon!”

“That’s it, that’s it love.” Simon praised before leaning to peck at your lips “This pussy is mine, these lips are mine, you’re all fucking mine now.”

And you certainly weren’t going to object to that.

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter Two: Emotions Unveiled

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 2.5K

⛧Summary: Feelings surface and the line between duty and desire begins to blur. Admitting your feelings to the King of Hell could be the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you. Lucifer battles with his own internal struggles in silence.

⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.

⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic

------------------

As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.

“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.

“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.

“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.

“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.

You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.

You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table. 

“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.

“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”

“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.

“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.

“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”

“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.

You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.

You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.

You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.

But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.

-----------------

Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study. 

He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow. 

Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow. 

-----------------

Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.

You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.

Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.

“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves. 

The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat. 

“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”

He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”

“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.

“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”

You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself. 

“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”

Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.

Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.

You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.

Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down. 

“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.

“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.

“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried. 

[thebubblesareevil]

Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 3

When Jason started to wake, he kept his eyes closed; his training kicking in to assess his surroundings. He could hear…giggling children?

He thought back on what happened and reassured himself that he had not passed out on a playground.

He could feel someone poking his cheek before someone else, an older woman, shooed the children away.

“Dear sir, feigning sleep will do you no good.” Announced a gentle voice.

He opened his eyes to see a woman draped in a medieval a large amulet around her neck, she had her hair tied back in a simple braid. She could definitely be considered attractive, he chose to ignore the glowing green skin for now.

He swiftly opened his eyes, it didn’t take long to realize his mask had been confiscated, which definitely didn’t help his mood any.

“Where am I and who are you?!” He demanded in a gruff voice.

“You’re in King Phantoms personal healing quarters. Sir Frostbite has informed me that you will make a full recovery from your overindulgence of distilled ectoplasm.” She giggled. “Must have been quite a wild night to still be feeling the effects this long, you must connect me with your supplier!” She chirped as if he understood a word of what she was saying. She straightened her back.

“As for who I am, I am Queen Dorothea of Maddingly. A pleasure to make your acquaintance ” She giggled a little as she gently held out his hand.

“Red Hood.” He answered, taking the hand. (Stranger or no, Alfred would kill him if he forgot his manners)

“The please is mine.” He grunted. He felt unusually calm considering his situation. Truth be told he couldn’t remember how he got there.

Then he remembered.

Lian. Roy. The summoning.

Jason jumped from the bed, much to the amusement of the Queen as he stumbled over his own legs.

“Where’s Lian??!!” He shouted at the Queen.

She only raised a single brow in amusement. “I can take you to the little princess now, though you may want to use the rest-“

Jason glared. Queen Dorathea giggled.

“Very well Sir Hood. The little princess is in the garden with her father having tea. Shall we?” She gestured to the door.

Then she started gliding out of the room, barely waiting for Jason to grab his guns and follow after her.

The traveled through the gloomy halls, though he could hear echos of children laughing. It should have been comforting.

It was creepy.

When they finally exited the castle, Jason was greeted with a bright just off-Lazarus green sky. Glowing children and various creatures roamed the gardens as he passed. Some carrying trays, some just stopping to smell the roses? All paused to greet the Queen.

Finally they came upon several arches and tables with little girls and boys talking in the most exaggerated fancy voices he had ever heard. He would have laughed if he weren’t listening for one particular little voice.

“JAYJAY!”

Jason spun around just in time to be tackled by the little cannonball. He allowed himself to be knocked to the ground, basking in the little girl’s laughter.

“Uncle Jay! Uncle Jay! Are you gonna have a tea party with us???” She chirped, beaming up at her uncle.

“Who?” Jason looked up to see Roy standing a few feet away, holding back laughter as he snapped pictures with a glowing green camera.

A boisterous laugh came from the table behind his friend where he found the so called Ghost King….wearing a princess crown??? (One of those pink cone ones with the ribbons)

“What on earth?” Jason muttered.

The king snorted. “I see the younglings managed to break into the medical wing.”

Jason frowned. Roy took more pictures.

The Queen giggled. “I did try to warn him.”

“Warn me? What??”

The large ghost approached Jason with some kind of disk. He had no chance to protect himself if the ghost attacked with Lian in his arms…

The King knelt in front of Jason and turned the platter to face him.

“Personally I think you look adorable.” He gave Jason a wink as Lian giggled.

Not that Jason noticed as he looked at his reflection in the platter to see his face covered in heavy glittery pink blush, his eyelids with a dark unflattering blue eyeshadow and bright red lipstick circling his lips.

That plus the little bows in his hair left him quite a sight.

Jason took a deep breath as he carefully got to his feet. He handed Lian to the Ghost King who dutifully snuggled the little monkey.

He turned to Roy. He didn’t hesitate, he took off after his dear friend, intent on prying the camera from his cold dead hands.

Roy booked it, the two performing impressive acrobatic feats from one tea table to the next as the fought for possession of the blackmail.

The King let out a booming laugh, turning to the little princess.

“Who should we help, daddy or uncle Jay?”

Lian tapped her chin, thinking carefully.

“Both?” She replied, tilting her head.

Danny grinned. “Both is good”

He released the little monkey as she raced to tackle her uncle Jay while Danny valiantly picked up the young archer by his armpits.

———

Clockwork sipped his glowing green tea. Entirely too pleased with himself as he enjoyed the sound of laughter returned to the infinite realms.

All was as it should be

[bisayawa]

freckles & blades & helping hands

✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader

✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.

"do you need any help?"

legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.

the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.

"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."

the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.

there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.

"i could do it for you, you know?"

his eyes never leave the mirror.

"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."

"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."

"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.

he rights himself.

"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.

a beat passes.

"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."

he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.

the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.

"so..." your voice cuts through.

"so...?"

"could i do it for you?"

he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.

"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.

"you could teach me." tap tap.

"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap

"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"

"it's with the grain, honey."

"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"

"hm..."

"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."

"you've catalogued my grousing?"

"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."

he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.

"alright, alright... here..."

he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.

"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."

he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.

"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."

he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.

"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"

your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.

"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."

shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.

the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.

"how was that?" you murmur.

"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"

"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."

"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."