#(and I break your ankles hehe)

[glitterbombedshadow]

Imma be real, I love all of the Snufkins over the years, but there's something rly special about the mysterious guitar playing 70s version. His theme slaps so hard I learned it the same day I was made aware of it. He might just be the most goddamn dramatic forest gay version and I love that. I also think that he is the second most capable of murder snufkin (looking at you baldkin)

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[incendiobrock]

Caring For You {Matt Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader takes care of bf!Matt when his ankle is still hurting after going to the doctor 🥺

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

A/N: this was supposed to be a quick blurb before work but it turned out longer than i expected hehe

The garage door in the triplets house finally opened, signaling that the boys had made it back home from their trip to urgent care. Matt had been having some ankle pain that you had been begging him to get checked out. Even Nick and Chris were getting worried when the pains still persisted after a couple of months.

The boys laughter filled the once silent house and you were quick to get off the couch and make your way to the staircase. Nick was the first one up, greeting you and heading to the kitchen. Chris followed him closely behind and Matt stayed at the bottom of the stairs for a few extra moments.

"Well? What did they say was wrong with it?" You asked nervously, hoping it wasn't too serious since you didn't see any sort of cast. Matt slowly ascended the stairs towards you, limping lightly because of the pain. When he reached the top he pulled you into a comforting hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew that you had been really worried about him and just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"She said it was probably tendinitis and that I should just take some advil." Matt said softly, placing a kiss on your forehead and pulling back from the hug. You looked up at him with big doe eyes, concern still written on your face, "What? That's all? They didn't do an x-ray or anything?" Matt shrugged his shoulders, shifting his weight off his hurt ankle and repositioning his hands inside his jean pockets.

"They didn't think it was necessary."

"How about you go sit on the couch so you're not putting weight on it, give it a break while you're home." You suggested, placing a caring hand on Matt's tattooed bicep. He quickly obliged, making his way over to the plush, white sofa, sinking into the pillows. You grabbed a pillow from the opposite end of the couch and brought it over to Matt.

"Baby, what are you doing sweetheart?" He asks as you carefully lift his leg to rest on the L of the couch, placing the pillow beneath his hurt ankle.

"You should probably elevate it at least." You responded before quickly heading towards the kitchen, giving Matt no time to stop you. Matt watched you from over the back of the couch, his tongue wetting his bottom lip unsure of your actions. You rummaged through all the kitchen drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. Eventually, you scavenged a ziploc bag, a hand towel, and a bottle of advil.

You filled the ziploc bag with ice from the freezer, wrapping it in the hand towel to keep the direct cold from touching your bare skin. Holding all the ingredients, you made your way back over to the couch.

"Here babe, let me take care of you." You pled, carefully placing the ice onto his elevated ankle and handing him the bottle of advil, urging him to take a couple.

He smiled sweetly at you, grateful that he could count on you to take care of him even when he didn't think his health issues were that big of a deal.

"Do you need anything else?" You asked, standing at the edge of the couch, ready to do anything else for the man you loved.

Matt patted the spot next to him, urging you to take a seat. As you got closer to Matt, he held out his hand taking hold of your own and pulling you onto the sofa. When you fully sat down next to him his arm came over your shoulders, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest. He looked down at you as you snuggled into his side, using his free hand to gently push your chin up to look at him.

Matt leaned down, connecting his lips with yours in a meaningful kiss, "I love you, thanks for taking care of me."

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝

【Synopsis】 : Now that he has you have his wife, he desperately craves to have a family.

『Word count』 : 1.4k

-> Genre: Fluff. Smut. MDNI 18+

Pairing: Husband!Jay x Wife!Reader

[Warnings] : Switch dynamics. The reader is in charge of this one, hehe. Subby-ish Jay. (He's whinier than anything else) breeding kink, unprotected sex (Don't do this unless you want kids) Dirty talk. Jays a bit of a brat. Making out. Jay breaks the readers' underwear (woops).

Note: This is my first time writing for Jay... kinda very nervous, ahh. I hope I did him well. I wanna write more chicago stuff in the future, so if this does well. You’ll be seeing more, hehe.

Jay is begging again. He wants children. He’s brought it up in the past and you’ve always brushed it off with a hearty no, saying you both weren’t ready for that type of commitment, let alone with your types of jobs... Not right now. But this time is different. He stopped mid-kiss to look you in the eye and asked the question.

“Can we have a baby?”

Your throat runs dry. You couldn’t care for a kid, not now when your lives have just only begun to settle down into the first day of your honeymoon, which started straight after your chaotic wedding. But yet you couldn’t help feeling a tingle brew in your lower gut. The desperation in his eyes made your thighs squeeze together. The choked whimper in his words filled your need to please. And how could you possibly say no to your newly wedded husband while staring directly into his beautiful loving eyes? They swim with lust…. you were at a loss.

“Hmm, my Love,” you whispered, facing your body fully to him, having discarded your phone onto the side dresser while you were deep in thought. It wasn’t a yes per say, but the way you smiled with a subtle nod made him move into action.

His green eyes brighten like he has just heard the best news in his entire life as he was on you within seconds, kissing you deeply and caressing your sides. You moan into the kiss, grabbing either side of his head to hold him in place. His touch sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your body. You have never thought of it because of your precautions but just thinking about him going in raw gets you wet. You shift a hand down between your legs and start to rub your clit with two fingers. But a hand quickly stops you.

Jay pulls away and looks at you. “Let me,” he begs.

He looks and sounds more desperate than you feel. This man must have been yearning for ages. And now he’s finally getting it. He’s just a sloppy mess. You push him back onto the bed, his eyes on you the entire time. You climb on top of him and sit on top of his crotch. You grind down a little, feeling him grow in his pants a little. His hands grab your waist quickly, but you have other ideas. If he’s been wanting this, he’ll have to earn it. You grab his wrists and he lets go with loose fingers. Pinning his hands above his head, you suddenly feel the thrill of being on top. Looking down on him and seeing the desperation upon his delicate features. His mouth is parted and he’s breathing heavily already. It’s truly a sight to see that turns you on.

“Now if you want this, you’re going to have to ask nicely,” you whisper in his ear.

A moan is pushed from his lips as you grind down again at his lack of response. “Please,” he begs. “Let me.”

Satisfied, you let go of his hands but tsk, “Keep them there,” You ordered with a fake tone of dominance, at this point you sounded more cheeky and light-hearted, but neither of you cared. He keeps his arms above him but his gaze is all over you. You can feel his neediness rubbing against your clothed core. Shuffling down, you begin to undo his belt and pants. You stop every time he moves and wait for him to fall silent again. After a solid five minutes of playing this little game of tug and pull, you shuffle his pants off his ankles. His cock is fully erect and leaking. With a grin across your face, you sit on his thighs, placing your soft fingers down his waist. He flinches slightly but keeps his mouth shut.

“So you want kids?” You chuckle.

“Honestly,” he admits, “I couldn’t care less about that right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You reach over to the bedside table and open it. “I’ll just wrap you up then.”

“No!” He shouts and grabs you away from the table. “No,” he says more softly.

You laugh and pat his cheek. “You’re sweet. But I do have to grab the lube.”

He smiles widely and toothy as you reach for the bedside table again, grabbing a small bottle of lube out. You slick up your hand and finally begin rubbing his dick. His hips buck up slightly and he suppresses a moan.

“Let it out, honey,” you whisper.

He exhales harshly and his arms move slightly above him. You stop and squeeze the base of his dick. He chokes on a moan but another escape and oh my, it sounds heavenly. Why haven’t you done this before? This is another side of your husband you haven’t seen. You move up on your knees and push your nightie up your thighs with the hand that was on his dick. You reach between your thighs and move your underwear to the side, not wasting any more time with taking them off. With the lube on your fingers and the wetness coming from you, two fingers slide in easily. The pleasure zips through you and makes you hunch over Jay. You finger yourself above his dick, breathing into his neck.

“Keep your arms up there now,” you moan. You meant it to come out as an order, but opening yourself up over him is doing something to you you never thought would.

“Please, I just want to touch you,” he pleads.

“We can stop if you want.” You plant a kiss on his lips. “Or we can keep going.”

He shakes his head frantically. “Please. I just want to fuck you,” he pants.

You kiss him again with more want and bring your free hand to comb through his hair. Then you reach down and grab the base of his cock to line it up. He moans into your mouth as you slide down halfway onto him. You pull away gasping. You want more.

“You can touch me,” you say but it comes more out as a whine.

His hands whip forward and grab your hip and ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze. He’s a mess right now and you’re loving it. You bob lightly up and down on him, feeling him rub up against you, sending prickles of pleasure up your spine. He guides you down slowly with each thrust until you’ve swallowed him to the base. He lets you sit there, taking his full length in for a moment before you decide to move on your own accord. You shift your hips upwards with your hands planted on Jay’s stomach before moving downwards. You set a rhythm for yourself but soon enough he’s thrusting up into you. You’re gasping and moaning each time he drives you down on his cock. You get lost in the moment and pick up the pace to chase your own high. You fall on top of Jay and he wraps one of his arms around your waist while the other snakes down to grip your panties.

"I'm sorry." His words were quick and so was the sound of a snap of fabric. Did he literally just rip your underwear? "I'll buy you more." 

"You better." You choke out a moan as he throws the broken fabric somewhere in the room. He brings his knees up and begins thrusting up into you from another angle. It sends a thrill through you that has you moaning louder. You’re both a mess and all of the teasing and playing hard to get suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He pants in your ear. He holds onto you more tightly as he buries his face into your neck. With a few stuttering thrusts, you feel him release inside of you. And oh god just the hot sensation of being filled up sends you over the edge as well. You squeeze down tight around him and you can already feel some of his cum dripping down his cock, leaking out of your hole. After the high end, you slowly bring yourself up, his cock still inside you, letting his cum stay deep inside you. Collecting yourself, you glance to see Jay grinning up at you with a glowing smile. It brings a smile to your face as well even though you don’t know why he’s so ungodly happy.

“What?” You ask, stroking his chest with one hand.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Is all he says. That earned him a light slap on the shoulder.

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS

+ MOODBOARD IMAGINES

SET. : in between chapter 3 and chapter 4

LENGTH : 3.4k

A/N : do you darlings remember this (↓) moodboard? well, i thought it would be a good idea to write the scenarios i featured in it just cause... hehe~ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope you darlings enjoy the read!

On his break, Sirius has a routine, one that involves lighting a cigarette. Usually he would have the decency to step outside but his schedule was stressful for the day and all he really wanted to do was just sit by an open window, slumped into a chair smoking his cigarette until there was nothing left to smoke. Thankfully the rest of the work day wasn’t going to be as packed so he could finally start taking it easy. 

Grey eyes drifting over to the clock on the wall, Sirius hums thoughtfully. Almost lunch time. He’ll need to cut his smoke break short if he wants to have enough time for a decent lunch. It’s another ritualistic practice for him to not pack anything for lunch; he was a horrible cook and usually prioritises sleeping in over eating breakfast and preparing a lunch, it’s the same for James and Remus too. Thankfully there’s a pretty good fish and chip shop down the street. Or maybe he could get a medium pizza for himself at the pizza local place? Maybe get a large pizza for the whole group? 

Propping his ankle up onto his opposite knee, Sirius drags a slow breath in and waits a moment before releasing the smoke. He tries to aim the fumes out the window as much as possible but the air is a fickle thing and stubbornly lingered around him. Nevertheless, he takes the time to admire the swirling fumes, artistic and free to take any form they so pleased. It was one of the small pleasures in smoking that he could bask in. 

“Siri–!” Sirius promptly snaps out of his daze with your call and the opening of the break room door. One step into the room and you were already having a coughing fit. Hurrying to stand, Sirius smothers his cigarette in an ashtray and reaches for a nearby folder of generic designs to fan the smoke out of the open window. 

“You okay there, sweets?” he calls, brows furrowed into a concerned crease as he watches your struggle for air slowly calm. 

“I-I’m okay,” another slight cough slips past your lips despite the assurance, “sorry for disturbing you,” as most of the smoke escapes the room, pliant to Sirius’ frenetic fanning, you manage a small smile that he shyly returns, ashamed of his inconsiderate actions. Though he truly didn’t anticipate you returning to the shop. His shame doesn’t linger for long, however as he keeps the window open and makes his way over with open arms, pulling you into an embrace. 

“What a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here, Doll?” he looks down at you, admiring your sweet face as it scrunches up in slight distaste and his heart drops. What’s upset his sweetheart? 

“Y-you smell like cigarettes…” you utter without a single thought and immediately clasp your hands over your mouth, muffling a gasp of realisation. That was so rude!

“Shit–”

“I-I’m so sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean to be ru–” but your apology was cut short when the tattoo artist steps away and begins pulling his shirt over his head and hurries about the room, looking for something.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he gives up on his search and turns to you with a bashful smile, his toned torso and idiosyncratic tattoos on full display. Your mind goes completely blank as you admire the chiselled contours of his muscles and the beautiful tattoos that decorate his skin.

“U-uhh…” 

“I guess I’ll have to ask James if he has a spare shirt or something…” muttering to himself, Sirius looks up and finally catches your eye, immediately noticing your admiring gaze. Naturally, a devilish smirk tugs at his lips, “or not~”

He has the face of an angel and the body of a jock with the eyes and lips of a demon. 

Over time, you’ve come to visit the boys at their parlour more often and the guilt of distracting them from their work has chewed away at you. They were always quick to say that they adore having you around the parlour so your discouragement quickly dissipates. Nevertheless, you wanted to do good by them and started going on snack duties, not only to provide refreshments for them but also for their clients. 

As a group and as a business, they agreed it would be a good investment to provide complimentary food and drink for their clients and themselves; getting tattoos was just as exhausting as giving them, especially for the big order clients. Therefore each room was fitted with a mini fridge and basket to host an array of snacks and beverages for anyone to have as they pleased. 

The accumulated bill cost a pretty penny but one that the boys were willing to pay, they even managed to strike a deal with the vegan specialty store across the street to provide their best snacks for customers as a form of free advertising. It warmed your heart but it didn’t come close to the butterflies you felt when you found that the boys were first attracted to the shop for their regular donations to a local dog shelter. 

You just came back from your trip over to help restock the fridges and snack baskets in each room. Remus was manning the front desk and handling clients and prospective customers. There was a stack of paperwork piled up next to him so he could multitask and stay preoccupied when there was a lull in business. 

Meanwhile, Sirius was tending to a client and their massive back tattoo. You remember him telling you that this was just their second session and that he still had one or two more sessions left to go. You managed to slip in and out of the room without distracting him or his client too much; both were very busy, except for the emotional-support friend the client had brought along, who appreciated the restock of snacks and raided the stash even as you were restocking. The two of you giggled at that together as Sirius chuckled under his breath, shouting an appreciative ‘thank you’ while his client grumbled playfully, apologetic about their glutton of a friend. Their interaction made you giggle while slipping out the door and making your way to James' room - you don’t believe he’s with a client right now so you weren’t as anxious over potentially disturbing his flow. Though he was expecting one to arrive soon, according to his calendar. 

“Snacks restock,” you call through the door with a knock before stepping inside. 

“Thanks, angel,” James was in an all-black attire today. Black jeans, heavy leather Doc Martens and a black, compression shirt that accentuated his slim waist, broad shoulders and sculpted muscles. That along with his black latex gloves and the beautiful collage of tattoos weaving up his forearms stops you in place. It’s undeniable how attractive these men are but, as James sits in his artist chair, posture relaxed but oozing with confidence, dressed like sin with his boyish grin and adorable round glasses on, an antithesis to his dangerous attire, you stop in your tracks and stutter embarrassingly. It has to be illegal how divine he looks right now…

Using the wheels and mobility of his artist chair, James moves to sit before you as he examines the contents of your bag through the opening at the top and mutters about which ones he’s eyeing for himself. However, your stock-still, frozen figure doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s soon staring up at you. His hazel eyes shine with curiosity and thinly veiled mischief. 

“Something wrong, Angel?” the pleasant drawl of his voice draws you from your obvious daydreaming and you’re stuttering out a pathetic, incoherent answer as he chuckles quietly, “Have you fallen for me?~”

The fucking tease! 

It’s a hot summer day and Remus was sweating buckets up in the office. The heat was torturous and he silently begged for the winter cold to rush back with an icy fever, his desperation for a cool breeze evident in his dishevelled state. 

It was common for James and Sirius to go around topless in their shameless, over-confident ways but Remus was stubborn about keeping a shirt on. They had been warned about the rising heat thanks to earlier weather warnings but preparing with a breezy linen button up wasn’t enough for Remus to keep to his strict dress code. For once, you were seeing him half-naked (almost) and like you were with Sirius and James the first time they surrendered to the heat, you stood in shock as an additional heat tormented your cheeks. 

You didn’t know what to expect. 

Clearly James was the muscular one of the three, Sirius was skinny but it didn’t mean he didn’t have any muscle – his arms and abs were especially defined, his thighs too, probably from his motorcycle. Remus was tall so, as the stereotype went, you didn’t expect him to have much muscle definition. However, as he laid back in his seat, his linen shirt unbuttoned but still tucked into his trousers and draped over his broad shoulders, you’re able to observe significant definition in his chest and the ridges of washboard-abs along his torso. Your eyes almost bulge out when you see the cuts of a V leading into his crotch area.  

Remus despaired over feeling like a sweat-drenched dog, foul-smelling and unsightly with clumpy, sweaty hair when, in actuality, he couldn’t look better. Ths sweat made his skin glisten and helped keep his hair pushed back in the most attractive way. With his head slumped backward, his adam’s apple prominent, his tattoos on full display along the toned expanse of his torso, Remus looked heavenly. Especially with the sun shine pouring in from the open window and showering him in specs of gold. 

So caught up in your silent admiration, you don’t notice when Remus peeks one eye open and spots you with a soft smile. 

“You alright there, Dove?” he asks, chuckling as he sees the exact moment you were brought back to the present, “I see you’ve gotten my water for me,”

“Oh! Y-yeah,” you shyly walk up to him and hand over the chilled bottle of water from the mini fridge downstairs. 

“You really are an angel,” he accepts the bottle and kisses the knuckles of your hand in thanks before taking a thirsty gulp. His sweet action of gratitude makes you want to squeal out loud but you bite your lip, not wanting to expose yourself. It was already embarrassing enough having to be caught staring. 

It was then, however, that you took notice of a small, faded tattoo that didn’t match the gallery of inky art collaging Remus’ torso, “That tattoo looks different,” you say without thinking as you point towards the slightly faded crescent moon on Remus’ chest. 

“Oh!” Remus chuckles and caresses his inked skin gently, fondness swimming in his chocolate-pool eyes, “This one is quite special actually,”

“Really?”

He nods and launches into the story when observing the curious look in your eyes, “When the guys and I finally graduated secondary school, we all got drunk off our asses and went to a hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlour to commemorate the occasion,” you both share a laugh at their reckless but typical behaviour as teenagers, “each of us got a silly little tattoo and the next day, when we were hungover, half-naked in James’ room – James on the floor, Sirius in the bathtub of his ensuite and me leaning against his bookcase, nobody on the bed –” you both laugh again, “we all found out we got different tattoos and from that, came our nicknames,”

You brows raise in interest, “You mean–”  

“I have a moon so I’m ‘Moony’,” Remus confirms as your eyes sparkle with delight, a sight that Remus adores more than he’d ever admit aloud, “Sirius got a dog paw–”

“So that’s why you call him ‘Padfoot’, makes sense. What about James?”

“A stag head so he’s–”

“Prongs!” you cheer and giggle at finally discovering the reason behind their peculiar nicknames. It all made so much more sense now! 

“My Angel calls for me?~” James’ voice sings through the door before he’s sauntering in and opening his arms, expecting you to fall willingly into them. It was tempting, considering he was shirtless and you’d love nothing more than to be held against his muscles but today was already swelteringly hot so you politely decline, to which smug expression James’ drops into that of a pitiful puppy’s. 

It’s not a secret that the boys adore you, not only were you kind and sweet and the prettiest little thing they’ve ever laid their eyes on but you also cook like an absolute angel and they can never get enough, especially when compared to their own mediocre cooking skills. After being spoiled by you so often, they can no longer fathom eating their own inferior cuisine. They’ve expressed this to you multiple times so, whenever you could, you would cook dinner for them and you’d all eat together at their flat. It usually happened over the weekend and they always offered to pay for the ingredients needed. 

Tonight, you had something special in mind to cook for them but weren’t well stocked on ingredients so it was agreed that Sirius would pick you up on his bike when you were finished shopping at the store. You made sure to text the tattooist a predicted time for when you would be finished with your shopping, remaining faithful to your shopping list so that you didn’t keep him waiting too long out in the overcast, chilly weather. Typical England.  

Hurrying to get past self check out, you smile at the singular bag of ingredients you held in your hand, excited to spoil the boys with another night of good food. You aren’t shy in admitting how attractive Sirius was but it was unfair how sultry he looked when on his bike, wearing his all-black, leather outfit, his huge helmet and fingerless gloves. The many eyes eating him up were evidence enough of his ethereal beauty. And with his helmet on too. Perhaps it was the mystery of who he was behind the mask that these strangers fawned over him so much. You couldn’t fault them though, you would be the same in their shoes.

Having made this trip multiple times already, you recognised him and his bike in an instant.. Behind the visor of his helmet, Sirius suppresses an affectionate coo over how you visibly perk up when your eyes land on him. There was no need for sun when Sirius had your smile to light up his day. 

“You good, Doll?” Sirius’ voice comes out muffled by his helmet as he dismounts his bike and opens up the storage compartment under the seat. He exchanges the spare helmet stored in the hidden compartment for the bag of groceries in your hand, “You got everything?”  

“Yeah, thanks for waiting, Siri!”

You don’t see it but he smiles happily at the sound of your twinkling voice, “No worries, Doll,” he mounts the bike once more and takes it off it’s stand, “hop on,” 

At this point, he expected you to be able to put your helmet on by yourself but he doesn’t account for the slight delay as you make sure it’s fitted over your head properly. Unable to help himself, Sirius waits leaning forward with his hand propping his head up as his elbow rests on the body of his bike. The stance makes him look as though he was admiring you like some lovestruck, teenage boy. When you catch sight of him after finally getting your helmet on, you laugh and throw your head back with the movement but end with placing your hands on your hips - scolding his actions, almost, although it was all in good fun. His response was to blow you a kiss by, first, touching his fingers to the front of his helmet and then laying his hand flat towards you. 

You clutch at your stomach to contain the giggles as your shoulders shake before finally deciding to play along and return the gesture, imitating a flying kiss that he catches and holds to his chest. Whenever the helmet was put on, the two of you always got into the habit of exaggerating your movements seeing as your facial expressions were obscured. But that mask gives you two such confidence that you’re more comfortable with being flirtatious with each other. 

You don’t complain but it makes your heart thump with want and a desire you were too afraid to fulfil. 

“Sirius loves his bike,” Remus explains, “and James loves his car,” both men were too distracted taking maintenance of their respective vehicles to listen to Remus’ explanation of their attentiveness. It was the weekend and you had arranged to have Remus keep you accountable for completing your upcoming essay. At some point, you two join James and Sirius in the garage as they do the regular checks of their beloved ‘rides’. Their vigilant focus as they mill about the engines and operations of their car and bike were a great motivator for completing your essay and now that you’ve finished, you observe them in their element. 

Both men had their muscular, tattooed arms on full display, clad in only their tight tank tops, ones that already had stains to begin with so they didn’t mind staining more as their fingers blackened with motor residue.  

“What do you love, Remus?” you ponder, needing a distraction from the beguiling display before you but also curious. Did Remus have a secret love for a particular motor vehicle like the other two as well? You were beyond curious, although you couldn’t think of any other motor vehicle he would likely obsess over. 

“Can’t say,” the tall brunette shrugs, subtly peering down at you from his higher vantage point, “I’m pretty sure those two love it just as much as I do so it won’t count,” his answer leaves you curious but he doesn’t elaborate further. Was he talking about a motor vehicle or something else entirely?

Giggling beside Remus, you watch the exchange unfold before you with amused eyes and a warm smile hidden behind your fingers. Seeing James and/or Sirius become whiny and pouty wasn’t an everyday occurrence but it happened often enough that you were used to their shenanigans and didn’t give in as easily as you used to, especially with Remus at your side to keep the boys in check. Such as right now. If it weren’t for Remus, you’re sure James and Sirius would have continued to whine and throw a strop until their clients got impatient, left and then proceeded to write a very passionate review about the lack of service. Thankfully, the piercer shooed them away as efficiently as always, reminding the two of their responsibilities and scheduled patrons. 

“Stupid Moony,” James mutters under his breath as he walks away with Sirius, “...always getting Angel all to himself…” 

As soon as the two are out of sight, Remus takes his usual seat behind the front desk and pulls out a small paperback book to keep him occupied. With warm eyes directed at you, he smiles and asks, “would you like to join me for a good read, Dove?” as he speaks, he brings his hand down to rest on his thigh and, with your reeling mind, you mistake the gesture for an invitation that you couldn’t refuse.

Remus never expected you to look so adorable when approaching to sit with him for a read at the register but, other than that, he never expected you to sit on his thigh. You didn’t meet his eyes at first so you didn’t see his shocked state or the creeping grin tugging up the corners of his lips.  

It was embarrassing but this isn’t the first time the boys had you sit in their laps. This was just the first time you were made to sit on your own accord. You don’t think your embarrassment could get any more drastic, however, until you finally look up to see the surprised look on Remus’ face and finally realise your mistake. 

“Oh god! I’m so sorry!” 

He laughs at how adorable you are and winds his strong arm around your waist before you could even attempt to hop off his thigh. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” unable to resist, Remus presses a soft kiss against your temple and pulls you even closer to him, “you’re welcome to use me as a seat anytime,” he smiles adoringly at your bashful demeanour, “in fact, I encourage it,”

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N : for those of you that don't know, the moodboard was requested by my darling moot @diputy on my 1k milestone event (now closed) but if you're curious, here are the links to the event and the request masterlist : 1k EVENT | 1k MLIST

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

[agendabymooner]

icy in saudi ! oliver b. x ofc (raikkonen!driver!ofc)

summary: romania ‘(a)roma’ raikkonen, now one of aston martin’s reserve and development drivers, became an f1 wag overnight after ollie turned out to be carlos sainz’s substitute for the saudi arabian grand prix.

AND she also had her personal ‘reverse harem’ aka the boys that kimi feared to have around the icegirl.

content warning: use of explicit language, establish relationship, brief mentions of kimi raikkonen, dad!kimi, f2 drivers appearance + banters, brief sexual innuendo, tweets, crack fic, 2024 saudi arabian grand prix, oc!raikkonen brother jo raikkonen (face claim: conrad laursen), kimi antonelli and ofc’s sister bantering

note: this guy goated as hell. here’s some content that ppl asked for 😭😭 it’s not much but enjoy regardless xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

2024 — ROUND 2, SAUDI ARABIAN GP

BREAKING NEWS: Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz hospitalized and underwent appendectomy. He is now replaced by reserve driver, Oliver Bearman, for this race.

SAUDI ARABIAN GP, POST-RACE

tagged olliebearman

liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial

user1 the way you called in sick as a reserve driver just to support ollie 😭😭 i want that

rooraikkonen goated ferrari driver after kimi raikkonen 🙌 liked by romaraikkonen

veracoparaikko splendid job today, ollie! liked by romaraikkonen

kimimatiasraikkonen well done, ollie 👍 liked and pinned by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen pinning this so he can brag about it

user2 the ‘well done’ was one thing… BUT CALLING HIM OLLIE?!

user3 someone check on kimi, he’s having a stroke and calling the one guy that he despises the most by his nickname

olliebearman hehe

olliebearman love u 🙂 liked by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen stfu lemme just appreciate ur talent pls

olliebearman ok 🙂😊

jackdoohan god what a simp 😔

theopourchaire21 let’s all pray for our fallen brother. he passed away after he suffered from ‘down baddery’

arthur_leclerc 🙏

user4 WHY ARE YALL CLOWNING OLLIE 😭😭😭 WE GET IT HES DOWN BAD BUT HE MEANS WELL

frederikvestiofficial he’s so down bad it’s actually sickening 💀

romaraikkonen i’m gonna break your ankle the next time i see you, vesti bestie

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck

[peachsayshi]

@nyxronomicon babe, your tags. I am squealing! you want more? well, then this is for you (also to share what I had in mind hehe):

ex boyfriend villain!nanami doesn't approach you at all while you are in the bar. the entire time your on the precipice of anticipation, just waiting for him to tap your shoulder or bump into you out of nowhere. but nothing happens.

nothing happens until you go outside, and find him standing outside the building all by himself. yes, you are right. he is bulkier than usual. much fitter, and clearly far stronger. you can sense it in his energy. he was already a grade one sorcerer before this, what has he been doing as of late? you wonder if it has anything to do with suguru - nanami made his choice aligning with him.

he stands there, an unlit cigarette twirling between his fingers. he looks at you with contemplation and you are frozen in place. a stand off but you're not sure what move to make.

he scans your body, all the way to your feet where he sees the lace of your heels starting to loosen. he doesn't say anything when he tucks the cigarette behind his ear, but two steps towards you prompts you to move two steps back.

"what are you doing?" you ask, panicked, not realizing that there is actual fear in your tone.

"your shoes," he points out calmly.

you shift your weight, noticing that the right heel does in fact feel slightly looser than the left. and even though you don't want him to come closer (or at least you think you don't), nanami eases his way towards you and gets down on his knees.

there's a lump in your throat when he casually picks up your foot and places it on his thigh. there's a chill that runs up your legs, feeling the hands of this killer delicately readjust the strap of your heel.

"when did you start smoking?" is all you can think of asking, out of the millions of questions and statements and comments that compile in your mind.

only then does he smile. the tiniest tick no the corner of his lip. but he doesn't answer your question. he simply ties the knot around your ankle and stands up, his body far too close to your liking.

your kento was more reserved, a little shy even. but not this kento.

you swallow the lump again, flinching when he brings his hand up thinking he might do something. his eyes widen at the reaction, but he continues to smoothly reach for the cigarette and pretends like he doesn't see it.

his gaze doesn't leave yours once.

"and when did you get this?" he asks cautiously, the depth of his voice unmistakably warm, his tone a forbidden note that no one should hear so closely.

you flinch when his fingers press against your back exposed by your dress. the digits trailing over the middle of your spine vertically and following the pattern tattooed on your skin.

it's a symbol of protection against evil. one you got five months after your break up.

you don't know how long you both stand there, taking the other in. only breaking away when a few people leave the bar. you spin on your heel, your pulse beating heavily against your neck to see who it is, thinking it might be the rest of his group.

but all you catch is a drunk couple laughing loudly as they leave the bar.

when you turn back around, kento is nowhere to be found.

and you don't like that your heart aches because of it.

[sugaryplum]

our sweater

pairing: theodore nott x reader (didn't use any pronouns or looks description) summary: it's the third of december and sweaters look better on the floor. warnings: sexy times briefly mentioned, language mistakes. the obviously referenced song is out in the universe in this, so you could stretch it to be a modern!au? this is mostly just dialogue, i should just start writing movie scripts or something. writing dialogues is my favourite thing in the world. + you guys seemed to like it last time hehe <3 notes: it is not the third of december. but how dare you bring it up. oh and i’m back, sorry i disappeared for a month? i was busy doing literally nothing.

“so when are you gonna give me that sweater?” you’re laying upside down on theo’s bed, legs up against the wall. he doesn’t even look up from the desk, just muttering a quiet “what?” your way.

“it’s the third of december.” to your satisfaction, he turns his chair to face you. or at least your body, bent in the weird pose out of boredom. you’re not sure if his confused expression is because of that, or because of the the sweater question out of nowhere. either way, you smile and start singing, slightly off key, with a closed fist close to your mouth to imitate a microphone. “i still remember the third of december! me and your sweater, you said it looked better…”

“it does look better on you.” you’re interrupted.

you tilt your head slightly. “obviously.”

after a second or two, he smirks, you can almost see his teeth. “i wonder how it’d look on my floor.” the words are quiet, muffled with a chuckle. you raise your eyebrows in disbelief and turn your head to him, silent, amused.

“i do have a lot of floor space…” he starts again.

your eye roll is an enough of an answer.

“i think your sweater would look great on it.”

“oh, so it’s my sweater now?” you grin, looking almost proud of yourself for catching the word. it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“when it ends up on my floor it will be mine again.”

“so end up on your floor shall not.”

“it will, eventually.” his legs move from the floor and cross, stretched out on the edge of the bed. you look at the ceiling for a second, and then at him again. “so the question is how?”

“in many ways it could happen…”

“do enlighten me.”

he sighs and pauses. “me removing the sweater for example.”

“removing it from me?”

“yes.”

“it’s getting interesting.” you shift in your place, completely changing the position. your legs are stretched out in front of you, your ankles laying on theo’s calves. “what then?”

“i would put it on my floor.” he says matter–of–factly. when you chuckle, he adds. “and you would get cold.” you nod. his eyes are locked in yours and after a pause, his squint slightly. “i like it when you’re cold. makes you rely on me.”

you chuckle, raising your eyebrows again. “it’s good this year’s winter is quite warm.”

“then it's lucky i turned down the heating. hope you can manage.”

you laugh out loud this time. he laughs too. when laughs turn to smiles, still looking at each other, you take a moment to appreciate his face. noticing every pretty detail, every part of his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his lips. his expression, you rarely see him looking at anyone or anything else like this.

you sigh with a smile. “i like our sweater.”

“our?”

“you called it mine. and i don’t see it on your floor. but i’m willing to call it ours, as a compromise. look how good of a soul i am.”

“the sweater is mine. i meant i allowed you to wear it.”

“so why do i not have it now? it’s the third of december, need i remind you.”

he sighs and bents down, far to the side, refusing to leave the chair. he reaches his wardrobe, barely, and takes out a brown sweater. before you process, it’s thrown at you. you just know he aimed at your head, messing up your hair on purpose.

it’s slightly crumpled, but it smells like him, so you don’t mind. you would never mind.

you put it on, smiling proudly, goal accomplished. he rolls his eyes and breaks a smile.

[atrwriting]

trust me (part 2) — billy the kid (2022) x barowner!reader

okay part two hehe

as always, warnings: smut!, fem!sub!reader, dom!billy, p in v sex, oral m receiving, overstimulation (I should be stopped), choking, dirty talk, breeding kink (hehe)

anyway… trust me, part two:

billy had kept his promise.

he always kept his station right at your bar, in the middle.

you figured it would stop a few days after the two of you were married — but billy held his post.

with billy there and making his silent presence known as your defensive line, most trouble-making men would eye billy, order their drink, grunt, and then pay. to hell with a fake wedding ring, even your real one — when billy the kid sat at your bar, glaring at walking problems from the brim of his hat, no one dared cause a scene.

the townspeople may have stopped their shenanigans… but that didn’t mean that all of your problems disappeared.

in fact, new ones seemed to pop up.

as his new wife, you wouldn’t say they followed billy — but they sure as hell didn’t follow you.

groups of men wearing worn clothes with their guns on display would venture in and immediately start glaring at billy. you found that odd — because what man walks into a bar, and doesn’t immediately order at the bar?

“don’t pay them any mind, sweetheart,” billy would say to you, trying to quell your worries.

you narrowed your eyes at him, wiping down a glass. “if you didn’t want to marry a guard dog, maybe the queen’s daughter is still single.”

his lips would purse in a way that suggested he was fighting a laugh. “i’ll protect you, darlin’. you doubt that?”

“and i’ll protect you,” you bit. “you think i wouldn’t? like i said, you could probably charm —“

“as if any of them could scare me like you do,” he spoke lowly, the want to smile now winning. admiration could be seen in his piercing blue eyes, which also tugged on the corners of his lips.

“as if any of them would know that that’s you trying to be sweet,” you scoffed, half-jokingly. “and — as if anyone would be flattered like i am.”

billy sat back in his chair as he turned his head towards the side. he averted his eyes as he tried to hide his large grin that threatened to take over his face. when a rosy hue had founds it way onto his cheeks — you knew you had done it. you actually made billy the kid blush.

one day you would tease him for it — but not today. with the paranoia that always lingered in the back of your bar — you chose to award yourself and billy with this small moment of intimacy: knowing you were the only person that could break through his tough exterior.

but that tough exterior immediately rose once those men approached the bar.

there were about four or five of them, outnumbering both you and billy. billy always had a gun on his belt, and you had one underneath the counter and strapped to your leg, and a knife on your ankle — but even with those, you were out numbered and out gunned.

when they approached, you put on your brightest smile. “hello, gentlemen — anything i can interest you in?”

“gentlemen?” one, in the back, chortled.

the one in front smirked, swishing the joke in his mouth a little bit. he seemed to contemplate his response for a moment, and you fought the urge to narrow your eyes at them. you could feel the heat of billy’s gaze on the side of the man’s face. finally, the man spoke, “what my… associate means to say, miss... is that we’ve never been called ‘gentlemen’ by such a fine lady.”

you smiled politely. dismissing his words, you asked, “and what can i get for you?”

the man shoved his thumbs into the extra space in his belt, puffing out his chest. his cheeks were rosy — probably from the sun. you weren't sure what he did for work, and you figured it was best not to find out. a man who spent most of their days outside either worked the land or stole from someone else’s. you didn’t want to judge, and didn’t — but they didn’t look as harmless as billy or his gang.

“i was actually wonderin’, beautiful, how you managed to tie ‘ol billy the kid down,” he grunted. “in my day, the kid’s not loyal to nothin’.”

“insulting my husband will not get you drinks on the house, sir,” you stated.

“oh — you think we can’t pay?” he scoffed, his eyes widening. “do my ears deceive me, boys?”

“what’s a lady supposed to believe when you throw a cheap shot in front of her?” you asked before his associates could respond. “you’d be smart to mind the character you give off to the woman who controls the whisky pour, sir.”

his eyes narrowed, but his smirk didn’t waver. “i guess i should mind because my boys and i decided we would make this a regular spot of ours. whisky. five glasses.”

you pulled five glasses and grabbed the bottle from under the counter. lining them up, you began to pour. your gaze never left the man’s as you poured a single shot in each.

like billy said once — they had to respect you, before they respected him.

you pushed the glasses towards the man, and he laid a few bills down on the counter. each man took their glass and began to walk away. before the man you were staring down walked away, he turned to billy, and spoke, “we’ll be seein’ you around, old friend.”

billy didn’t respond. he just glared at him until he sat down.

their departure didn’t not quell any anxiety. having billy there was a blessing when there was one man making a fuss — but five? five who had a problem with billy?

you immediately dipped down under the counter so they couldn’t see you speak to billy.

loud enough, so only he could hear, you asked, “you know him?”

“know 'em enough.”

your teeth sank into your lip. “you want me to fetch jesse? should i get one of the boys in the back?”

“no, darlin’,” he spoke. “i told you — don’t worry about a thing.”

“i don’t appreciate being kept in the dark, billy,” you spoke. “i’m not asking to know everything — but at least let jesse know if you think it’s the right thing to do. you sitting there and not doing anything doesn’t make me believe it’s not a problem — it makes me think you’re only here to make me safe, when it sounds like this is going to get bigger than me.”

“i told you it would be fine,” his answer was quick and flat, dismissive.

“alright,” you sighed. “i trust you.”

you stood up then, averting your attention to a rag and glass in your hands that hopefully gave off the impression that you weren’t trying to secretly talk to billy. you stepped away from billy to stock bottles, attempting to clear your head. you didn’t necessarily blame billy — but you didn’t know how to feel. you didn’t have a problem with who he was or what he did — but you did have a problem with him not being able to handle similar situations as a team. a unit. sure — men would never be as scared of you initially as they are with billy, but you weren’t useless or defenseless.

you knew billy didn’t think of you like that, no. you were more so worried that he didn’t want to share the burden with you.

he should never feel shame. never. not ever.

you walked back over to him then, wiping down the counter. you didn’t raise your eyes, but lowly, you spoke, “i hope you know this, but in case you don’t — i’m proud to be your wife, billy.”

he was mid sip when you said that, which stalled a response from him, so you took another chance. maybe you should have, maybe you shouldn’t have…

but you did anyway.

“and i feel lucky to be with a man who would protect me,” you stated. “that i feel protected by.”

billy didn’t answer — but you weren’t as strong as you were by prying. billy could read you like a book and you hoped that the message was loud and clear: support. he had your support. you didn’t look up at him, didn’t mention it again, and didn’t try to get his attention…

he’d let you know if you needed to know something.

you had to trust him with that.

it would be a little while before the men at the table left. it was approaching close — and you were scared that they would never leave. you tried to keep your gaze off of them, and thankfully you never met their eyes if they had been looking over when you were. unfortunately, it appeared that they had been looking over — because billy was growing tenser by the moment.

“i could kick them out,” you whispered, keeping your head down.

“you’d do that to polite, paying customers, darlin’?” he asked sarcastically, shaking his drink around.

you fought back a smile. “i’m going to let them know about last call. hopefully they take the hint.”

you grabbed a bottle of liquor and ventured over to the men at the table. you kept your gaze trained absentmindedly ahead of you, but not on any of them in particular. when you approached, you had found most of their eyes already on you.

“just coming over to let you gentlemen know that we will be closing soon,” you stated. “can i top anyone off before that?”

“you can top me, sweetheart,” one of them chortled.

“mason, enough,” the man from before barked. “why, yes… that would be very kind of you. we’ll be on our way afterwards.”

you brushed off mason’s comment and began filling their glasses. they each immediately slammed it back, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to you. for whatever reason — they complied. politeness in their demeanors, they stood up and even pushed their chairs in before they left.

the main one, from before — you hadn’t caught his name, threw over his shoulder as he left, “be seein’ you soon, kid.”

from the way billy glared at the door… you knew he took that personal.

a little while later, you were both changing for bed. billy was moving with a sort of frustration in each of his movements. he was quiet, and quietly fuming. there was a deep set in his brow — alerting you that so many thoughts were behind those pretty eyes of his.

“do you want me to trim your hair?” you softly asked. “looks handsome — but looks long enough to get into your eyes soon.”

he didn’t look at you as his teeth sank into his lip. “yes, um… that’d be nice.”

you grabbed shears before gesturing him to sit down.

“i think those men were so rude because they were jealous of your hair,” you mused. “don’t think they’ve seen their own in the mirror for years.”

a corner of his lips raised slightly, but lowered almost immediately. you began to trim around his head, keeping most the length full but not long enough to touch his neck. even if it was impractical for what he needed — you loved the little curls by his hairline.

“they were jealous that i have such a beautiful wife,” he spoke.

“you are something else, mr. bonney…” you trailed off, brushing the stray hairs off of billy and turning to put the shears away.

that was when you felt the slightest touch on your palm, and then you felt fingers weave through yours. you turned to find billy’s blue eyes holding yours. you admired that about billy — even in stressful situations, he was not shy.

you smiled at him, and brought his hand up to your lips. you kissed the back of it, hoping he knew how much love you had for him. after, you climbed into his lap — sitting face to face with him.

“they’re a rival gang,” he spoke, then swallowed thickly. “while we found mostly honest work — they didn’t. we’ve caught them stealing from our employer a few times. nothing we can’t handle, but they’re starting to take it personal.”

you were stunned he even told you. he didn’t keep secrets — but since you two had only been wed for a short time, this was the first real threat that had come at you both. you watched as his jaw tightened a few times, and you were unsure of what it meant.

“is this…” you began. “is this the first time they’ve approached any of you in public?”

he nodded. “i’ll make sure they stay away.”

you raised an eyebrow. “...because of me.”

he didn’t answer. “if this is business, you take care of it like regular ‘ol’ business. you let me get in the way — might not end as well as you think it might.”

his eyes were accusatory. “you think i can’t do both? that i can’t protect you?”

“didn’t say that,” you said softly. “i’m just saying… your gang is made up of a few men, and i’m just one person. i’m worried that if you worry too much about me —“

he caught you by both sides of the chin with that. his touch wasn’t hard or forceful, but sudden enough it caught your attention.

“don’t you dare ever even think that you are less important than them,” he grunted. “you’re what i’ve got in this world. you, darlin’. don’t you forget that.”

“i know,” you sighed. “you’re everything i’ve got in this world. i didn’t need a man, you saw… but i wanted you.”

his lips parted at that, and his eyes began to search yours. you had never seen anything like it; billy appearing so pure and vulnerable, almost innocent. like he was laying himself bare before you and he didn’t even realize he was.

“i’m not saying you can’t protect me,” you whispered. “i’m just asking… please, let me do what i can do to protect you, too.”

he didn’t respond. his hand found the back of your neck, and you both leaned your foreheads together. the bridge of your noses touched — which felt odd, but you found your heart swelling at the feeling. billy’s thumb was rubbing against the back of your neck, finding its way to tangle within the hairs.

“i never wanted you brought into something like this,” he admitted. “it’s my —“

“william bonney, don’t ever say something so untrue to me,” you whisper-hissed. “it’s not your fault — and you didn’t bring me into anything. there’s no fault there. however, i will fault you if you keep me at arm’s length on this. please… trust me.”

the hand on the back of your neck founds it way to your cheek where he began to stroke the skin with his thumb once more. you leaned into his touch, grateful for its warmth and comfort. you open your eyes slightly to find billy already gazing at the beauty in his lap. his baby blue eyes were a stunner to anyone and everyone, and somehow they always got the best of you.

“i’m just too selfish of a man to not give my pretty girl everything she wants,” he spoke in a raspy voice. “nothin’ could compare to how sweet those lips look when she smiles for me.”

the grin spread wide before you could help it, and you cast your eyes down to avoid the blush behind so obvious. billy bent his head down, trying to catch your gaze once more before you became too shy.

“oh, no, sweetheart — can’t take from me what i earned,” he coaxed. his thumb found the plumpest part of your bottom lip, and slightly pulled it down into a pout. “prettiest lips i’ve ever seen in the west.”

your lips encircled around the tip of his thumb and lightly sucked in the tip. your hair fell down around your shoulders and curled around your forward as the temperature in the room began to increase. you watched as billy’s eyes flicked back and forth between your beautiful eyes, and how your lips sucked him in.

“goin’ show me what those pretty lips can do f’me?” he asked, lips parted.

you nodded then, sliding off his lap and on the floor. the pair of you tugged on his bottoms and let them pool around his ankles. upright on your knees, billy gathered all of your hair on the crown of your and looked down at you proudly.

“such a good girl f’me,” he rasped, barely above a whisper. “let me see those pretty lips work.”

with a blush on your cheeks, you leaned forward towards his hips. your hand wrapped around the base of his thick cock as your soft lips tucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. billy could’ve screamed at how good it felt in there — warm, wet, and wild. filled his veins with whisky and sunshine and tobacco all at the same time and he didn’t know what to do with himself. bobbing your head slowly, taking more and more of him in, you watched the stress leave his body. billy’s eyes drifted closed as his lips remained parted. the tension in his shoulders had disappeared, leaving only a man with his head thrown back against the back of the chair.

“that’s it,” he spoke. “that’s my girl.”

words like that… oh, words like that… they could turn even a saint like you into a slut. mixed with the sultriness in his voice — the whining, the wanting, the needing — you didn’t know if you wanted him to cum or not. if he came, he’d feel better, sure — but to deny yourself this picture? the scene of your man, your lethal man, succumbing to even the smallest of touches? praising you? guiding you? there was nothing better, nor purer in the world to you than to be before him, on your knees, as his wife. the sight alone was enough to make you take him deeper.

“that’s right, baby — little bit more. show me what you can do,” he grunted. “makin’ me so proud. ah, fuck…”

his reactions were like treats — and who were you to deny yourself of something your husband was so willingly giving? he was melting in your hands before you, and there was nothing more you wanted than to make him feel good. spit ran down your puffy lips, your cheeks, and along your jaw. the feeling of the trail sent all of your senses on fire until the only thing you saw, touched, smelled, felt was billy. one of his heavy hands came to rest on the back of your head, guiding your bobbing motions.

“got me weak, darlin’.” his breathing was heavy, almost spent. “want you on the bed. need to fuck my good girl sweet and proper.”

you reluctantly retreated from him and stood up, huffing. he immediately caught wind of your disheartened expression as his brow furrowed.

“what’s the matter?”

you let your nightgown fall to the floor as you stood in front of billy, bare for only him to see. billy was shameless as his eyes raked up and down all of your delicious, beautiful curves that were only illuminated by candlelight. you weren't backing down, however, no — you stepped forward, leaving very little space between you. you could feel the tips of your perky nipples grazing against his cool skin and shock went up and down your body. with big, unrelenting eyes — you glared up at him.

“finally get my husband to relax and i get stopped when i’m being nice.” you were smiling, being coy — but there was an edge of truth to your voice.

he smiled knowingly, not missing a beat at your discontent. “i’ll show you nice, darlin’.”

he pushed you back against the bed and immediately crawled between your thighs. it was so hard to stay mad at billy when the warmth from his own body would spread up and down yours, bonding the both of you. he pushed your thighs back against your torso, hooking the backs of your knees in his elbows.

“think i’d waste a drop when those men were starin’ at my wife, today? my girl?” his long, thick fingers began playing with your folds. your breath hitched at the feeling, an immediate gush of slick collecting on the tips of his fingers. he swirled around your clit, pulling you into him and his attention. “almost fuckin' killed them, every last one. i’ll get you so round and full — no man will dare flirt with my girl ever again.”

your breaths were light and needy as his words drifted through the air, your eyes fluttering closed. talk of kids surprised you, but not the sentiment. being so free and wild to talk of such things drew a certain excitement out of you that you didn't know existed. your senses were on fire, and now they were focused on having his cock pump you full of him. his lips were by your ear, nibbling on the lobe — and it sent you fucking mad. “yes, billy, please — want your baby so bad.”

“that's right, sweetheart,” he groaned. “need my cock inside you now —“

billy immediately retreated his hands to grab his cock and stuff it inside of you. the preparation was only slight — making there be more friction than ease. you gasped at the slight pain, but immediately fell into billy’s kisses as his lips drew shapes on your cheek and jaw.

“take me just like that, darlin’,” he grunted. “always so good to me. so proud —“

every inch was something billy held over your held. its teasing and taunting were persistent at your entrance, prying at your mind and your bottom lip. he pulled in and out, shoving another inch in with every thrust. you were at his mercy, tucked below him. he had every ounce of your trust and you had every ounce of his — and you couldn't think of anything better than the most dangerous man in the west turning you into a fucking mess.

“you’re so deep, billy,” you whined. “never — felt so good —“

“mind already going soft on me, huh, sweetheart?” he spoke, rocking his hips back and forth. you could feel your pussy stretching around him, wave after wave of arousal coating his cock and sucking him in deeper. it craved him. it throbbed for him. it pulled him in until there was nothing left of him to give. with his balls sitting heavy at the bottom of your entrance, you let out a cry. billy could only laugh darkly in your ear before saying, “pussy wants me so bad — just beggin’ me to breed it. can't be mean now, can i?"

you threw your head back against the bed, neck stretching with it. your teeth dug into your bottom lip as your eyes screwed shut. your entire lower body was on fire with each of billy’s thrusts. the depth and strength of his hips caused his cock to bury itself inside you, threatening to never leave. it was pure, it was passionate — but it wasn’t enough. there was an itch and it needed to be scratched. you should've maybe asked, maybe you should've been embarrassed to want something so dirty, so naughty, so unladylike — but you didn't care. you couldn't care — so you tried something.

you grabbed the wrist he wasn’t using for balance, and brought it up to the upper half of your body. his thrusts didn’t stop, but he watched you warily — waiting for a sign to stop.

but one never came. you let his fingers ghost around the circumference of your throat, letting them rest there. when they didn’t immediately squeeze, you tightened them around your own throat. billy could feel the build of a moan in your vocal chords, and it sent of a shock of arousal right to his cock. his eyes went wide with shock, then dark with lust.

“dirty — fuckin’ —“

he immediately got the hint.

he squeezed the sides of your throat just enough, and held you down. your whines were pathetic — incoherent, pitiful, and downright crazy. the head of his cock was hitting some of the most sensitive parts buried deep inside you that only he could find — and the room was spinning. pictures on the wall, furniture, lamps — things before you all going hazy and doubling in quantity as the pleasure drove you up a fucking wall. he claimed every bit of your body, having you bent in the most vulnerable position you had ever been in and you gave in. you gave in to every push, pull, thrust — anything he offered. he was yours, and you were his, and there was nothing stopping the bond between you two. you let out a dirty, needful whine at the feeling of his claim around your throat and melted underneath his control.

“that’s how it’s goin’ be, huh, girl?” he spat against your cheek. “thought my wife was the sweetest — but she didn’t tell me she likes it dirty. can you cum like this, sweetheart? fucked like a whore, hand around your throat, from a wanted man?”

you could only nod pathetically. you were clinging to him for dear life, pushing off your orgasm for as long as possible. “just like that, billy. please — don’t stop. i’m so, so close…”

“can see those stars behind your eyes already,” he quipped, nipping at your neck. “my poor girl wants to cum so bad…”

you were nodding though your tears, trying your best to choke out words, sentences, pleas, anything — but nothing could encapsulate how billy had control over every inch of your body. every nerve ending stood at attention for the man before you, ready to give him anything he wanted.

“please, billy,” you sobbed through gritted teeth. “i want a baby. i want your baby!”

“gonna breed this pussy, fuck — !” his free hand immediately came down in between where your hips connected and began drawing the roughest circles on your clit. the friction should’ve hurt, but with your mind being so consumed in passion and lust — it filled every want and need. your body rose for him, keened for him, fucking sang for him — and it set him off. the animalistic side of man showed itself through the dark pupils of billy's eyes as lust began to cloud his mind. “that’s it, doll — everything i give you. jus’ like a good girl — take it all.”

your hands immediately left his body and slammed down onto the bed, grasping at the sheets. your hips then spasmed as your chest then fought against billy as it tried to raise off the bed — but billy held you down. as you sobbed, cried, whined — billy held you and supported you through it all as he swallowed every emotion you gave him. you were almost screaming — from the pleasure, from the intensity, from the overstimulation, but billy didn’t stop. he kept working your pathetic, puffy clit with his rough hand around your throat, speaking dirty and sweet nothings into your ear before he filled your pussy to the fucking brim.

his moans in your ear were strained as the veins in his balls tightened. his hips shot forward once, twice — before he slammed into you once more and held his hips there. rope after rope after rope of hot, sticky, white cum painted and melted into your gummy walls. all of billy’s muscles were pulled tight and taut as he fucked his cum inside of your sopping wet pussy.

“i’m so mean to this pussy, but she just can’t stop cummin’, can she?” he spat, grip still on your throat. “love when your walls throb around me… holding me in…”

billy only then pulled his hand away from your raw clit. you were shivering from the stimulation, already falling victim to the haze of an orgasm and exhaustion. with his hand still around your throat, he pressed a fat, wet kiss to the side of your face.

“can’t wait to make you a mama," he whispered. "but i like the process."

---

lmk what u think :) love u guys xo

-L

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Daddy's Girl

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Tangerine can’t stand his little girl’s tears, especially when you’re the reason behind them.

WARNING: Forced/Abusive Marriage; Implied Kidnapping context; NONCON. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Make sure to imagine that lovely British accent of his, hehe. Also I wanted to wait a bit before posting this, but I wanna share this so bad :) enjoy!

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The loud noise from the television travels to the kitchen, muffling down the sounds of the knife violently cutting down a carrot. Tangerine has a tight grip on the knife, a pissed off scowl on his face as he spits an unhealthy amount of curses. 

He’s so caught up that he misses the small quiet steps that run towards the kitchen and it’s only when there is a hesitant tug on his sleeve that he looks down, finding a small female miniature of himself, standing in her tippy toes in front of him as she raises her arms, her brown curls bouncing. 

He smiles at her, immediately picking her up, pushing the knife far away. Delighted giggles fill the kitchen as he tickles her. 

“What you doin’ here, princess? Are you hungry, sweetheart, cause lunch ain’t ready yet.” he kisses her cheek, his eyes glinting with pure amazement as he looks at Claire. 

His little angel. 

Claire’s laughter slowly dies down and she plays with the rings on his fingers. Her lip wobbles and when she finally looks at him, her eyes shinny with tears. 

It breaks Tangerine’s heart to see her like that and he wants nothing but to slap the shit out of you for making your babygirl cry. 

“I… I miss mommy.” her voice breaks as she starts crying. Tangerine sighs, hole burning in his chest as he gently pushes her head to his shoulder, rocking her in an attempt to calm her down. His hand rubs her back, her small body shaking as she sobs.

“Daddy, I want m-mommy.” she begs. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But mommy still needs some time.” he tries to console her but to no avail. 

Claire cries for what seems like forever and when she finally calms down, Tangerine's shirt is soaking wet, the lunch long forgotten. 

It takes several deep breaths for him to calm down and although he wants to go see you so badly, he puts Claire to sleep first.

He tucks her into her pink bed, placing her favorite teddy bear next to her. A peaceful expression rests on her face, exhausted from all the crying and Tangerine kisses her forehead before leaving the room.

“She fuckin’ cried herself to sleep.” Tangerine shouts to your face, your scalp stinging as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Do y’fuckin understand that? She fuckin’ cried because of you. Cause you’re a fuckin’ shitty mother, that’s what you are.”

Thick tears fall down from your red eyes and you stumble back when he releases your hair, falling back as you trip on the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 

You fall butt-down, pain alastrating on your back but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even compare to the deep ache in your heart.

You also miss her. So much. It hurts that you haven’t seen your daughter in a week, kept in the basement as Tangerine lies about you being sick.  

“All she kept saying was how much she missed you. That she wanted you to feel better so she could finally see you. Fuck!”

“I…I’m so sorry.” you cry out. Tangerine only glares at you, nostrils flaring up. 

“This is all your fuckin’ fault. You just had to act smart, didn’t ya? Fucking’ hell.” his hand meets the wall with a loud bang and you wince, burying your face in your hands, frightened.

You’ve never seen him this angry before. Not even at the few times you tried to run away years ago. For once you’re actually glad that the basement is sound-proofed so that Claire doesn’t have to witness any of this. 

You messed up. Baldly. You should have known better than to plan an escape from Tangerine. 

But you were exhausted. Deeply tired of playing house with Tangerine. As much as you love your daughter but you want a better life. For yourself. For your sweet daughter. As much as you smile and laugh, pretending to be happy and in love with Tangerine for the sake of your daughter, you had reached your breaking point. 

“You're a selfish little’ bitch, only thinking ‘bout saving your own ass.” he snarls. 

You shake your head, desperate. 

“No! That’s not- She’s my daughter too.” 

Tangerine stares at you for what it seems forever and you hold your breath, watching him with a runny nose that you struggle to wipe with the back of your hand.

His hands on his hips as he considers you, neck veins bulging. He runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated as he exhales heavily.

“If you really love her, you gonna fuckin’ behave from now on. And I fuckin’ mean it. No more fuck up’s.” he warns you. 

Blinking away the tears, you nervously nod as he slowly walks towards you before stopping in front of you.

“Ya mean it, right? Then fuckin’ prove it cause you’re not leavin’ this basement without provin’ me that you can do better.” 

Confusion fills you until you see the look on Tangerine’s eyes. With shaky hands, you reach for his belt but he moves your hand towards his shirt and your heart drops. 

Not this. 

It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. You’re barely wet enough yet uncomfortably stretched by your husband’s cock as he slowly thrusts into you.

Given how angry he was, you were expecting him to fully rail you so you were surprised as he went at a slow, calm pace. Good for you.

His head is buried in your neck, low groans coming from him. It’s feel like an eternity as he fucks you gentle and deep till you lose track of time.

You suddenly hiss when his cock rams deep inside you, the thin old mattress softly squeaking under your combined weights. 

He pulls himself on his forearms, facing you as he starts to speed up, quickly slamming his hips forwards with a renewed force and you cry out, hands bawling the sheets. 

“S’ fucking’ tight, darling.” he husked, his sweaty curls falling to your face as he presses your foreheads together. “Gonn’ cum soon, fuck.”

His breathing halts as he fucks you vigorously, urgency in his thrusts. He doesn’t last longer, your velvety walls tightly squeezing his cock just the right way for him to approach his orgasm.

“Fuck, oh, fuck.” with a final harsh thrust, his body tenses up before finally relaxing. Tangerine releases a loud grunt, reaching his high while being balls deep inside you, his hands coming to grab your face as he connects your lips into a needy kiss, the bitter taste of cigarettes on him. 

When he lets you go, you release a shaky breath, feeling gross and violated with his cum beginning to leak. 

His nose touches yours, skin shiny with sweat and his blue eyes half-closed as he exhales, the warm breath hitting your face. He doesn’t seem that angry anymore, men really think with their dicks. 

“That was fuckin’ nice.” he smiles, his knuckles sweetly fawning over your cheek. “Maybe we should consider giving Claire a sibling. I think she’d love a baby brother.”

[sunshinesteviee]

fast asleep - s.h.

you and steve pull a prank on your little girl when she pretends to be asleep; based on a tiktok trend i've seen a few times hehe. dad!steve & mom!reader; 1.3k

Masterlist

Phoebe is sprawled across the couch, half in your lap, half in Steve’s. Your fingers stroke through her hair slowly, careful to not pull too hard on the delicate strands. Between that, and Steve’s hand on her calf, thumb stroking short lines over her skin, she’d fallen asleep halfway through The Little Mermaid. But now that the credits are rolling, you can tell she’s at least somewhat awake, pretending to be asleep so Steve will carry her to bed. Her eyes and lips twitch slightly, in the way they always do when kids pretend they’re sleeping. 

Steve will carry her to bed either way, but exchanging a look with him, you know he’s going to have a bit of fun with it. 

“Oh man. Looks like Bee is fast asleep! Missed half the movie, what a bummer. Guess I’ll have to carry her to bed if we can’t get her up,” he says, like he’s whispering, but still loud enough for Phoebe to hear. 

“Uh oh. Bee? Gotta get up, sweet girl,” you try, shaking her shoulder gently. The movement causes the corner of her mouth to curl ever so slightly, and you can tell she’s fighting hard to keep her eyes closed. 

“Bumblebee?” Steve asks, fingertips pressing into the sole of her foot lightly, just enough to tickle, “Wake up, Bee!” 

Though she refuses to open her eyes, a short, muffled giggle escapes her lips, pressed together tightly. Your eyes meet Steve’s over your daughter’s figure, and you both have to hold back your own laughter. She is absolutely everything. 

“Ya know,” Steve says after a moment, still barely above a whisper, “I heard that there’s one way to tell for sure whether or not a kid’s asleep.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, no idea where he’s going with this, but ready to play along, “What’s that?”

“Well, if you pick up their arm and it stays in the air, they’re actually asleep. But if it falls back down, they’re just faking it.”

“We should definitely try, just to make sure she’s not tricking us.”

“Definitely,” Steve repeats, nodding seriously as he pulls the frilly sock covering her tiny foot up her ankle. 

“Alright, let’s see if she’s asleep…” you trail off, taking Phoebe’s wrist in your hand, lifting it up above her head. 

Her hand is so small, just a fraction of the size of your hand. Your thumb rubs over the back of her hand in a soft circle once, twice. Sometimes you can’t believe that you made every single perfect part of the human stretched out across your laps. Making eye contact with Steve, he gives you a bright smile, and you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

Giving the tiny hand in yours a gentle squeeze, you finally let go of it. There’s a split second where Phoebe’s hand seems like it’s going to fall back into her lap, but it stays in the air. You can see the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, all too pleased with herself and what she thinks she’s getting away with. 

It takes everything in you to not burst out laughing loudly at the way her hand stays in the air, the way you can see her lips twitching again, fighting her own smile. Steve slaps a hand over his mouth, smothering the laugh that threatens to burst out of him, head turning to bury his face into a pillow nearby. You bite down on your bottom lip, stifling more giggles as you say, “Oh, she’s fast asleep. Totally knocked out, I can’t believe it.”

She totally thinks she’s tricked the two of you, even more so when Steve finally composes himself enough to chime in, “Guess I’ll have to carry her to bed, we can’t leave her down here when she’s asleep like this.” You know that was her goal the entire time, and this time, she can’t help the smile that breaks out on her face. Despite the smiling and giggling, you’re impressed that she hasn’t opened her eyes yet. 

You gently push her arm down, and then brush a strand of hair out of her face, leaning over her tiny body to press a kiss to her head, “Daddy’s gonna bring you to bed, Bee. Sweet dreams, sleepy girl.”

Untangling himself from the blankets and pile of limbs, Steve finally manages to get up from the couch. He reaches towards the ceiling in a stretch that pulls the hem of his shirt up his torso, yawning loudly. You can’t tell if the yawn is real, or if it’s just for show for your daughter. A wink is shot your way as he takes notice of your staring, leaning down to peck your lips softly. Then he turns to his daughter in your lap with an amused smile, shaking his head fondly. 

His hands sneak under her arms, and then, as if she weighs nothing, he hoists her off the couch and into the air. You’re pretty sure you hear a quiet giggle as he rearranges Phoebe against his chest, moving her head to rest on his shoulder, her legs around his waist, an arm under her butt to support her. He makes it look easy, though he pretends to groan at the effort, “Oof! My little girl isn’t so little anymore. Gotta carry her to bed while I still can… Be right back, honey.” He says the last part to you as he turns towards the stairs. 

He’s joking, mostly, though she is getting bigger and bigger every day. Enough that the thought of not being able to do this soon breaks his heart a little bit. So, he hums softly as he trudges up the stairs to Phoebe’s room, running a hand up and down her back as he goes. He’ll do this for as long as she lets him. 

Steve gets Phoebe into bed easily, having had four years of practice, and tucks her in carefully. She has yet to open her eyes as far as he can tell, and he’s genuinely impressed, though she does seem to finally be nodding off now that she’s in her bed, wrapped in her blankets. He moves one of her stuffed animals closer to her body and bends at the waist to kiss her head softly. It seems she’s really sleepy enough now to forget the charade, and a tiny, tired voice floats up from her pillow, “Nanite, Daddy. Lub you…” 

“Goodnight, Bee, sweet dreams, baby. I love you so much.”

With one more kiss to her head, Steve finally straightens and turns on the white noise machine by her bed before slipping out of her room. He leaves the door open just a crack, the way she likes it so a bit of light from the hall can seep in, and makes his way back to you. 

“Out like a light. For real this time,” he announces proudly as he stops in front of you on the couch. 

“You’re amazing. I can’t believe she fell for that! Think you can carry me up to bed, too?” you ask with a grin, holding your hands up towards him. Steve’s eyes narrow, as if you’ve just challenged him, even though you were totally kidding. 

“You know I can, do I need to prove it again?” he asks, a hand on his hip for a moment before he takes one of your hands and bends down towards you.

“No! I was just— I was kid— oof! Steve!” You know exactly what he’s planning to do and you start giggling nervously, but you can barely get a sentence out before he’s hauling you over his shoulder in one quick movement. He’s even stronger than he looks, and you know he’s not gonna drop you, despite the shriek you let out.

“Shhh!!” he laughs loudly as he makes his way to your bedroom, hands squeezing your legs just shy of meanly, “Bee just fell asleep!”

“Then put me down, Steve!” you huff, feigning irritation as you hit his back lightly, shying away from the door frame as he pushes your bedroom door open. “If you drop me, I’m gonna divorce y—“

You’re cut off again, this time as Steve drops you onto the bed. He does it carefully, only letting go of you when you’re a short distance from the mattress. He’s hovering over you in a second, a hand on hip and a ridiculously handsome smirk on his face, "What was that?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Harrington."

[crazyinlovewithbucky]

“My Aphrodite”

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Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky just came back from a 3 weeks mission and he’s never been hornier!!! this is just pure smut with Bucky being a total slut! + You are his goddess and he makes sure you know that.

Warnings: +18 smut, first-person perspective, the entire smut is from YOUR POV, breeding kink, mentions of goddesses and religion, praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, riding, a self-conscious reader (if u squint a bit), horny reader, and hornier bucky

A/N: hey babes, I wanna mention again that English is not my first language so excuse any misspellings or any mistakes. I’m trying my best hehe enjoy :*

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“Fuck, doll you look so pretty when you’re fucked out like that,” Bucky said while he was thrusting in me so hard while he was hugging my legs as he’d placed them above his shoulder. My cunt was very sensitive with the overstimulation as I just coated his length with my cum. I can’t even remember how many times I came tonight. Bucky just came back from a 3 weeks mission and we promised each other we wouldn’t touch ourselves or do anything until we’re reunited again. It’s a silly pact I know but we wanted to have a very crazy over-the-moon sex when he gets back and now we’ve done nothing all day long except for fucking.

“I’m gonna cum bunny, I can’t take it anymore. Fuck” I gasped so hard as I felt his striking hot cum filling me. His cock slipped out from the fast thrusts and it shot his cum on my cunt and my lower stomach. Bucky was a moaning mess already. “You feel so good,” he said between breaths and locked eyes with me. “so fucked out too” he smiled and leaned down and kissed me so hard. he slipped his tongue in and I opened my mouth for him happily. We kept making out passionately and breaking out for seconds just to catch our breaths then continuing again. Kissing each other hungrily, like we would die if we didn’t. I would happily die in his arms and be filled with his cum.

I could feel his cock getting hard again as it was brushing on my thigh and my cunt was already wet and filled with our mixed cum. “I need you bucky,” I said softly between breaths. he lifted his head up and looked me in the eyes. “No bunny, I’m the one who needs you,” he said as he kissed me again.

He got up and was standing now on the foot of the bed, his gaze darkened a bit as his eyes traveled all over my body. I was completely naked with my legs spread out a bit, my cunt was on full display in front of him and I could feel the wetness and mixed cum dripping from it. My hair was a mess, and my stomach and breast were full of love bites and teeth marks from our rough sex two rounds ago. I bit my lip as my gaze went to his length. It was really hard and his head was very red and wide. I remember our first time when I was really paranoid it wouldn’t fit, and my first scream when he bottomed out inside of me for the first time, my cunt was stretching and clenching around his length. No man ever fit me or filled me like Bucky. He was -and is- the perfect fit for me.

I pressed my thighs together for any kind of friction as after a whole day of fucking around, I still wanted him more than ever. he bit his lips at the sight of me pressing my thighs together. He held my ankles and opened my legs widely. His eyes traveled up until they met my eyes. “Have I ever told you that you are a fucking goddess?” his tone was very serious and low. I shook my head slightly as a smile painted my lips. “you are a goddess. a fucking sex icon. a Mona Lisa. a queen” he laid on me again and pushed his cock slowly inside me. Soft moans escaped my lips as I was adjusting to his length again. “Fuck bunny, I don’t know how you are still so tight for me after the day we had. Thought your pussy would be stretched out by now” he groaned while looking at where our bodies are connected and thrusting in and out slowly. I couldn’t stop moaning and I felt a very hot wave striking my body. all I feel is just pure lust. I need him. I need him to keep fucking me. I need his cock to stretch me out. I just need him.

He suddenly stopped thrusting but he was still buried inside me. I didn’t notice that he was staring at me while my head was pulled back on the pillow and my eyes were closed and nothing but moans and soft whispers of his name flying out of my mouth. His eyes were full of something that I couldn’t put my head around it. It’s my first time seeing this look in Bucky’s eyes. First time seeing a man looking at me like this and I can’t even understand the look. I got nervous suddenly and I asked “What’s wrong?” He smiled softly and brushed my hair out of my face and kissed my lips.

“Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I could seriously worship you” he chuckled and kissed my left cheek as I’m sure now it’s burning red. “you are my goddess. I literally worship you. can’t believe I got so lucky to have an actual goddess underneath me” his lips now moving to my neck and he’s nipping on my sweet spot. “are you my goddess, Y/N?” he lifted his head up and his eyes met mine. “answer me, babe. Are you my goddess?” I nodded and licked my lips as I’m feeling my cunt getting wetter by his praise.

Suddenly, he flipped us over and now I’m on top of him, he held my waist tightly to not let his cock slide out of me and he pulled me down until he was fully in me again. He breathed heavily and looked at me all over again. “Then show me. make me believe in you, goddess. make me believe you are my goddess. Fuck me into believing in you. Fuck me into your religion” His words are making me go crazy that I just couldn’t move. I was literally stunned. No one ever talked to me like this before or even loved me like this before. I’m feeling like I’m in a dream now or I am high. Can’t believe this is actually a reality and Bucky Barnes, the winter solider, the fucking white wolf, is buried deep inside me and saying these sweet words to me. I feel like I’m going to cum just by listening to his words.

“Come on doll, show me your love and admiration. Show me your powers, my goddess. Only you can make me this horny and my cock never calm near you. Only a fucking sex goddess can do that, my Aphrodite” his grip on my waist hardened as he’s now moving my hips and waist back and forth, grinding me on his dick. the friction and movement got us both moaning loud. He kept moving me faster on his cock and I started to pick up the pace and grinding more back and forth. I love how he keeps praising me and telling me I’m his goddess while fucking me now like a sex doll whose just here to please him.

While grinding and moving back and forth on him I started to ride him slowly, moving up and down. Bucky moaned the sluttiest and dirtiest moan I’ve ever heard from him. His eyes shut and he pulled his head back on the pillow and pushed it down. His hands tightened on my hips as my pace started to go faster and now I’m fully jumping on his cock while grinding my hips harder. His moans and screams are as loud as mine are too. “Fuuuuuuuccckkkkk” he growled so loudly and tightened his grip more on my hips, I felt like his hands are going to pierce my skin and leave a permanent mark. I felt his cock twitching so hard inside me and hitting my g spot repeatedly. “Oh, dear goddess-ss - I’m cu-mm FUUUUUCKKK” he screamed loudly as he shot his hot liquid inside me, hitting my cervix and g spot, making me fall off the edge and that tight in my stomach to burst. As much as I was shaking rapidly and can’t breathe but I couldn’t stop jumping on him and continuing fucking myself on his cock.

Bucky started shaking like me from the overstimulation and couldn’t catch his breath too. “Yes goddess, let my cum stick inside you. let me bless your heavenly womb with my babies. we could have the most perfect demigods.” he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him and now our chests are pressed together. “Let me plant my seed inside you, Aphrodite. I bet you’d look so good pregnant with my babies inside you. not to mention, you’d look so fuckable too” he said as his hands slid down to my butt and now he was holding me and moving me on his cock. It feels so good that we can’t even stop. I closed my eyes and buried my head in his neck, I really can’t control my moans or my need for him anymore. “Yeah doll, give me one more orgasm. I know you want to. Give me one more. Don’t fight it” He knew what I needed and he knew my body. Bucky always put my pleasure first and we’ve been together for so long that he really knows what I need and what my body needs. the feeling of needing to feel the heat and pleasure of cumming around his thick hard cock was consuming me and I needed to let go again.

“Fuck baby, I’m going to cum again,” he said groaning and holding my butt so tight while moving me faster on his cock. the sound of my sloppy pussy and his cock fucking in and out of it was deafening as much as our moans. I don’t know what we ate or drank or smoked that made us this horny and needy today or maybe it’s just our love and lust for each other or maybe it’s just we have so much chemistry in sex that we and our bodies just know how to satisfy and please each other. I don’t care what it is but it’s addicting and I don’t wanna stop. never.

I can feel that knot tightening again as I let go with nothing but screams and moans slipping out of my mouth. Bucky followed my screams with groans as he burst again into my cunt. This time we stopped our movements. He was still buried inside me and I was still on top but I didn’t lay on top of him as I gave myself and him some space to catch our breaths. My upper body lay on the bed very close to him as he was laying on his back, eyes shut, chest going up and down breathing heavily. I was laying on my side facing him, staring at how perfect he looked with his hair messed up and sweat on his forehead shining. He opened his eyes and looked at me. We kept staring at each other deeply as we both smiled.

“After that Barnes, you should build me a fucking temple” I giggled and he laughed at my words. “The least I can do for my goddess” he pulled himself closer to me and moved on top. Still having his cock inside me. He kissed me deeply then pulled away and locked eyes with me again. “Congratulations, Aphrodite. I’m now a believer of yours. Could you accept me as your humble servant?” I giggled and nodded. We kissed again then he pulled out slowly, trying not to trigger any other nerve. I stood up and moved to the bathroom. “Hey, where are you going?” he pushed me back again to the bed. “I’m not finished with you yet” he kissed my neck from behind and wrapped his arms around me again.

“Oh my god Bucky, you are becoming a real sex addict now,” I said jokingly with a serious tone. He laughed and held my chin with his hand, turning my head around to face him. “If Jesus himself saw you, I’m sure he’d become a sex addict too” he grinned and then chuckled at how shy I got. This man surely knows how to flirt as much as how to fuck. “As much as I am flattered but I need to use the bathroom” I giggled and jumped out of the bed quickly and ran to the bathroom. I can hear him clearly running behind me like a fucking predator about to catch his prey. I got into the bathroom fast and was about to close the door but he was faster and smashed it open. “BUCKY OH MY GOD” I screamed and laughed at how crazy he looked right now.

“You are not getting anywhere without me, my Aphrodite” he had this devilish smirk on his face as he moved closer. He pulled me up by my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist. We held very intimidating eye contact for a while until I felt a splash of hot water hitting my skin. I hadn’t noticed that he moved us to the tub and opened the shower. “Ready for some shower sex rounds, doll?” he said against my lips as he pushed his tongue inside my mouth. This is going to be a very very long night.

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | The deep dark of your cavern didn't diminish the glow of Muzan's reddened eyes as they peered at yours– tentacles expelling out towards your own and suddenly, you didn't want him to leave you ever again. | 2 | Not to touch... as you bowed down with your head resting against the floor, you begged for Muzan's cock– only to be given it and more; a slicked encounter with his shapeshifting.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, he's called the title lord muzan... | 1 | cecaelia!reader, fem!reader, tentacles, handjob, blowjob, head pushing, breast play, pining, alludes to casual fucking, muzan shapeshifting (he sprouts tentacles out of his back that have mouth suctions with teeth on them) | 2 | dom!muzan, gn!reader, male!muzan & female!muzan (he switches his sex halfway through, pronouns still stay the same though), mentions of being used and being a fucktoy, begging & pleading, worship, face fucking, face riding, dirty talk, praises, rule #1- don't touch lord muzan.

a/n: | 1 | i do hope this is up to cecaelia!reader standards! i did some research to adhere to the accuracy of anatomy but i fear it wasn't enough. | 2 | hehe i kept repeating in my head 'boy pussy' while writing this for some reason? i wonder why... v-day list | m.list

thirst count: 1

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

| 1 |

“What do we have here?” The cave was dark, no light penetrating it towards the edge of it and you cowered within the spaces beneath the wall of the water. Who was in your domain, seeking solitude? No one knew about this place other than one person, so that must mean–

“I can sense you, Y/N.” He said, his voice low– teasing you out of your hiding place. You peeked your head out abruptly to see Muzan, tall of stature and you sighed as you heaved yourself up on the rock of the hole. 

“Don’t go scaring me like that.” You huffed out, sinking your tentacles down into the water again pitifully. “I couldn’t recognize your voice. Is that a new form, Lord Muzan?”

“Yes, and?” Muzan’s eyes pierced yours, lustrous and rimmed with crimson– it made your quake in fear and in anticipation. He’d visit you for a few things naturally, talks of the Twelve Kizuki running rampant and other idiocies of his life but the one thing he always craved was you. And as you watched him transform– expel his arms out to counter your own tentacles– you knew you were in for a treat.

“Did you miss me?” He smirked sharply, his whips forming against the flesh of his skin and you felt heat rush through each and every one one of yours. God, it’s been a while hasn’t it? 

“What do you think?” You pouted, one of your tentacles circling his ankle. You pulled him closer to the edge of the water cave, insisting he sit as another slipped into his pants. “Don’t wanna waste any time– before you leave me again.” 

“I’m not done the transformation yet, Y/N.” Muzan groaned as you wrapped around his cock, sprouting three more whips from his back. One instantly wrapped around your neck, the teeth grazing your collarbone and you let out a quiet sob of relief as it sucked marks into your skin. As he sat down against the edge, the water lapping up towards the front of his trousers, you smiled at him with a mischievous glint. 

You made it a point to delicately slide your tentacle up his cock, careful not to go too far as his own trailed down your own body. Fire fueled within your core as he let out another quiet moan, his eyes breaking off of yours and fluttering shut. You could feel his tentacles on you spasm lightly as you pumped him slowly, leaning in towards to cleave off some of his clothing. 

But you were met with a sharp tongue. “Not today, it’s just a quick visit.” 

You sighed to yourself, your tentacles pulling from him as you dove back into the water. Instead, you took to his legs, wading in front of them and you pulled out his cock to sink your mouth onto it. Two of your tentacles wrapped around his thighs, spreading them apart so you can lean in easier and he looked so good like that– so pliant underneath your suctions as you licked up the underside of his cock. 

A shaky groan fell from his lips, his tentacles shooting down towards your shoulders and you whimpered around him as they roamed over your chest. They squeezed around your breasts rather harshly as his cock twitched in your mouth, his hand threading through your hair. 

“C’mon, I know you can do better than that…” You heard him from above you and he pushed you down roughly, his tentacles suctioning against your nipples and you whined again– pleasure welding up your spine and you opened your throat a little to take him as deep as he wanted. 

He came down your throat with a shudder, all of his tentacles latching onto you with a heavy gasp. When you pulled off, they were gone and he was starting to withdraw from the edge of the stone. 

“Leaving so soon?” You pouted, but his eyes flashed towards yours with menace but a small ‘thank you’ etched his lips. You weren’t sure if he said it outloud for your entire vision was clouded with the pure lust he instilled in you.

| 2 |

“You want me? Get on the floor and beg.” Muzan’s voice dripped like red wine, straight down your throat and your own voice went dry; you were barely able to nod as you dropped to your knees and mewled at his feet. Your hands nearly caressed the ends of his trousers, reveling in the way his foot kicked out towards you, signifying you to heed– not to touch.

“Lord Muzan…please–”

“Head too.” He tutted, his finger pointing downwards and you struggled to put two and two together as your head bowed down near your hands on the floor. 

“P-Please… need you so bad, can’t stop thinking about you fucking me– about you using me.. I–” You blurted out, a soft cry evading your voice as you spit out the words. You felt Muzan’s eyes boring into the back of your skull and you hoped your begs were deemed worthy.

You felt him stand up in front of you and you felt like you wanted to cower in your skin, the domineering presence holding you hostage as a soft command fell from his lips, “Look up for me.” 

As you glanced up, you were met with his cock. And God, did your mouth water… Just the sheer size of it made you drool as he lightly pressed it against your cheek when you sat up in front of him. You wanted so desperately for him to just shove it in and take what he wanted from you– the longing ache for him capturing you whole as you waited for his next command. 

“Go on. I’m allowing you.” Muzan said, guiding his cock inside your mouth and you sunk down greedily. Immediately lapping your tongue around it, you hollowed your cheeks and then stilled on him. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you waited yet again. You didn’t want to push too far, it was only his will and his only– you were nothing but a fucktoy at the moment. 

“Ah yes, so pretty for me.” He cooed, albeit fakely as his talons for nails practically clawed within your hair– against your scalp, earning a wanton moan from you. He snapped his hips against your mouth, a deep groan drawing from him as his cock dragged along your tongue. You dared not to grab at his waist for leverage, instead keeping your hands against your lap as he fucked your mouth harshly. You felt the spit gathering against the corners of your lips, all over his cock and you closed your eyes in bliss. 

Muzan lazily spun his words now, drunk off of your lush mouth. “Obedient today, are we?” 

You could tell he was nearing his orgasm and you eagerly waited for his cum– the near golden seed that made your head spin with lust. But before you knew what was happening,  you were flung off of him onto your back.

You tried to get up from the floor, your elbows coming to rest against it but warmth covered your mouth and it took you a minute to register that Muzan had sat himself against you. Only it wasn’t his dick that pressed against your lips, but his cunt and everything came together within a second. 

He fucking switched to his female form.

Your hair had been grasped within the confines of his palm as he started to roll his hips against your mouth and you darted your tongue out to lick at his clit. You stared up at him, his kimono falling against his tiny shoulders and you couldn’t keep your eyes off his breasts bouncing within the fabric– his head thrown back in pure pleasure with moans leaking out from his reddened lips. 

Muzan tasted sweet against your tongue, his entrance nearly squeezing the life out of it as he came from your laving. You couldn’t help but savor each and every drop as it painted you preciously, sitting heavily on the base of your tongue and you licked him clean. You could feel his pants wracking his body above you and you swore to yourself again– not to touch.

Touching him got you punished and you wanted more treats like this.

[cegantheayugipi]

That Time I got Boba Boarded by the Yashiro Commissioner (Ayato x reader)

An Ayato x reader enemies to lovers smut oneshot

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: As a prominent figure in Inazuma, Kamisato Ayato has lived through many assassination attempts. When yours fails miserably and you end up being captured, your interrogation ends far differently from the previous ones Ayato had conducted.

Warnings: MINORS PLEASE DNI AS THIS IS A SMUT!!

Tags include: gratuitous smut, sex toys, bondage/mild BDSM, voyeurism, master/servant dynamics, use of boba during sex (hehe)

You were just waking up from a really, really good nap. As a matter of fact, you felt like it might have been the best sleep of your life. You groaned as you began to stretch out your limbs, only to realize that they were somehow restricted. You opened your eyes – but all you could see were faint specks of light through the weave of a dark fabric that covered them. Twisting your body slightly, you realized you were tied to a chair, your wrists and ankles bound to the furniture by some sort of rope.

“You’re finally awake…good.”

A voice echoed through the room, and although you couldn’t tell which direction it came from, you could immediately tell who it was.

The damn Yashiro commissioner, Kamisato Ayato.

“W-where have you taken me?” You shouted, your voice hoarse from disuse while being unconscious.

“Oh, my.” He mused, and the sound of footsteps scuffling across the ground told you he was approaching where you were sitting blindfolded and tied up. “You seem to misunderstand that you’re not in the position to be asking questions here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized where exactly you had found yourself – tied up, in an unknown location, at the mercy of the man you had been sent to kill.

~~~

Thinking back, you cursed the ones who sent you on such an absurd mission.

‘This will be easy.’

‘Look for the white robes and the blue hair.’

‘Reel him in, and go for the kill.’

You had been sent to assassinate one of the most prominent figures in Inazuma. They didn’t care how you did it – they just knew you were particularly effective amongst young men. With what little information you had been given and what was public knowledge about the Yashiro Commissioner, you went into this mission confidently…too confidently.

Most of the Commissioners, while intelligent, had little fighting prowess; you didn’t anticipate that the Yashiro Commissioner actually had the strength to back up his title. Usually the people you were tasked with sending to the devil were weak, stupid, or both. You could easily cozy up to them, flirt with them, then take their life before they could even realize what you were doing. Thus, the last thing you expected was to be outsmarted at your own game… 

~~~

“Here’s how things are going to work.” Kamisato Ayato spoke curtly, his tone sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to tell me who sent you, and I’ll see if I’m in a forgiving mood. If your information proves useful enough, I’ll be merciful and hand you over to the Tenryou Commission for punishment.”

A shiver went down your spine. Was the Tenryou Commission seen as merciful? You knew if you were handed over to them with the crime you were caught trying to commit, you would never see the light of day again.

“W-wait, I-”

“I’m going to ask you a question.” Ayato cuts you off, unwilling to let you contest anything. However, he paused and you heard a slurping sound…it sounded like he was drinking something through a straw. You tilted your head, confused why he would be taking a break from an interrogation to drink.

The slurping ended, and Ayato let out a sigh before finally continuing.

“Who do you work for?”

“I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, trying to answer as quickly as you could. “I just get sent the request through a third party and then I pick up the payment from a random location when I’m done but I don’t even do this a lot I just go for young men who are easy to seduce- ”

“Oh?” Ayato cut you off, and you could feel something press against the underside of your chin. He was using one hand to tilt your head upwards to face him, although all you could see through the blindfold was a shadow. “So you make a habit out of killing the men you fuck?”

“N-no, I mean…” You trailed off, realizing the Yashiro Commissioner was right. You’ve never slept with someone who you hadn’t later killed. And although you couldn’t see it, Ayato was smirking.

You heard a low rumble come from him – was he…laughing? Little did you know, your reaction to his question told him everything. Ayato was laughing at how pathetic you really were. You weren’t a sword for hire, you were a whore with a blade.

Ayato’s demeanor immediately became serious again.

“You’re going to tell me the names of everyone you work with.” He continued to question you.

“I-I don’t know any names-”

The finger on your chin transformed into a painfully tight grip as Ayato grabbed your jaw with one hand and tilted your head up until you were facing the ceiling. You tried to wrench your head away, but he was simply too strong. Your entire body was shocked as you felt something ice-cold pour over your face and down your nose, forcing you to cough and sputter as you tasted something sweet and syrupy in the back of your throat.

Ayato’s hand moved again, wrenching your mouth open to force whatever sweet drink this was down your throat. That was when you could feel soft pillowy pearls in your mouth, and you realized the Yashiro Commissioner was drinking fucking boba.

You sputtered and coughed as you choked on his drink, unable to close your mouth as you writhed beneath his iron grip. Ayato began to smile as he watched you choke on the boba pearls; Despite what he would say to anyone witnessing such an act, he appeared to be getting personal pleasure from this.

Even after he finished pouring the sweet drink all over your face, you continued to choke on the boba pearls. You tried to swallow them while simultaneously trying to get the milk tea out of your nose. Shuddering, you finally were able to breathe and speak properly.

“Fuck you, Kamisato Ayato!”

The blue-haired Yashiro Commissioner merely smirked.

“Is that a challenge?” Ayato quipped, and your eyes went wide beneath the blindfold.

Despite the situation, you somehow began to feel turned on. There was a heat that grew between your legs, and you wished your knees weren’t tied apart like this so you could at least rub your thighs together. It was strangely hot being tied up and blindfolded like this by one of Inazuma’s hottest men.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” You growled, ignoring the desire that began to build in your stomach.

“You’ve already failed once.” Ayato mused, “What makes you think you’ll ever succeed?”

You could feel a finger trail its way from your chin to down your neck and your sternum. It brushed across your chest, landing on one nipple. You let out an audible gasp as you realized nothing was between the finger and your sensitive skin.

“Where are my clothes?!” You exclaimed, alarmed yet somehow even more turned on. You felt the finger on your nipple turn into a painful pinch as Ayato rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ngh~!” Your pained whine came out far too much like a moan.

While the first hand was fixated on one breast, a second one came to land at the center of your stomach. It began to trail lower and lower, reaching your sensitive nether region, one finger running between your lips and picking up some of the slick that had started to pool between your thighs. Your cunt clenched at the realization you were wearing nothing down there either, and your drooling pussy had been on display for Ayato this whole time.

“Just as I expected.” Ayato chuckled. “You really are more like a whore for hire than an assassin. So turned on, and all I did was tie you up for questioning.”

Ayato’s wet fingers reached your mouth, and you didn’t bother to fight back. You willingly accepted his fingers as they pushed past your lips, and you swirled your tongue around them. The taste of the salty musk of your arousal mixed with traces of the sweet milky tea from the boba he had just poured into your mouth, making it feel like you were eating a dessert rather than eating your own cum.

When he finally withdrew his fingers from your mouth, you were out of breath. You panted as you tried to calm down the arousal that was making your pussy drool like nothing else.

“As much as I would like to play with you some more, I still have questions that need answering.” Ayato spoke sternly. Both hands left your body, and you had to suppress the whine of protest that threatened to escape your lips. “Although, I believe we can still have some fun while getting answers from you.”

“Huh?” You asked, confused and nervous about what he was saying. Interrogation usually meant torture. Was he really going to torture you and enjoy it?

That was when you felt something cold and smooth press against your lower lips. The arousal that had gathered there allowed it to slip into you easily, slowly parting your tender lips and entering your folds.

You let out a whine, attempting to push your hips towards whatever it was, but you seemed to be tied up in such a way that your entire body had little to no freedom to move.

As Ayato pushed the small ceramic egg into you, he watched as you writhed with pleasure. He smirked – once the egg was all the way inside of you, he pressed a button on a remote control and the egg began to vibrate loudly.

“Aaah~!” You moaned, your cunt clenching around the egg. It was wide enough to stretch you a little, but not long enough to completely fill you, leaving your entrance quivering and wanting more.

Then, you were surprised again as a blue glow began to fill the room. You could barely see it through your blindfold, so you knew something was coming, but you were still completely caught off guard as you felt something warm, wet, and slippery slide across your breasts.

“Wh-what is that?!” You whined, your voice shaking.

“It’s some technology from Fontaine. A vibrating egg that can be controlled remotely.” Ayato explained bluntly. You could feel the slimy tendrils slip around one breast, squeezing and pulling at one nipple. 

“N-no, what’s that?” You panted, beginning to feel far too turned on for your own good.

“Ah.” Ayato nodded, although you couldn’t see it. “Some people have been granted elemental visions. Mine, as you surely know, grants me the gift of Hydro.”

Ayato paused, and you could feel a second tendril tighten around your other breast.

“And as I am certain you know, the power of water is its ability to take any shape.”

You gasped as you felt a third one slide down your lower stomach, reaching your clit. It tightened around your sensitive nib, rubbing and pulling at it, forcing gasps and moans out of you. 

Knowing this was completely controlled by Ayato was almost enough to make you orgasm on the spot. The pressure was building and building, and your growing moans and quivering entrance told Ayato exactly what was happening.

The tendrils rubbing at your clit and nipples combined with the vibration deep within your pussy was far too much, sending you on a straight path over the edge of an orgasm, but Ayato didn’t want that.

Just as you thought you might finally cum, all movement stopped. The egg no longer vibrated and the Hydro tentacles fell so still you thought they must not even be there anymore. Your encroaching climax immediately faded away, your body shuddering at the loss of orgasm.

“No!” You exclaimed, struggling against your binds. “Why did you stop?”

“I want names.” Ayato spoke coldly.

“I-I told you, I don’t know anyone’s names! They keep me in the dark about that kind of stuff!”

“You’re going to give me names. Details. Descriptions.” Ayato continued. With a click, the egg came roaring back to life, the vibrations far stronger than before. The tendrils of Hydro snapped around your nipples and clit, pulling and dragging fiercely against your sensitive buds.

A scream left your lips – too fast, too fast.

Your climax returned faster than ever, building and building until-

As fast as the motions had started, they fell still once again. You let out a cry as once again, an orgasm was cruelly stolen from you.

“Please, please I’ll tell you everything!” You blubbered, straining against the binds that tied you to the chair.

“Go on.” Ayato spoke flatly.

“T-they send me a letter to my house with a request and the bounty value. Once I’m done, and word gets out that the target is dead, they send me a second one with a location where I’ll find the payment. It’s a different place each time, but I remember all of them so I can show you-”

“Not good enough.” Ayato cut you off. With a click, everything sprung to life again, just as aggressively as before.

Once again, you let out a shrill scream. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm approached even faster this time.

And once again, right at the precipice, your climax was stolen from you as everything fell still.

“No, no, no!” You cried, tears beginning to run down your face at the third orgasm stolen from you. 

You were desperate for pleasure. You were desperate to be filled, to be fucked, to be bred. This was unbearable. You wished Ayato would just fuck you. Abuse you with his dick. Use you. Even if you were just going to be discarded afterwards, you craved him so badly. 

“Tell me everything.” Ayato spoke lowly, eyeing the wetness that dripped from your blindfold.

“Please, Master Ayato I want your cock-”

A sharp strike across your face stunned you – but also turned you on. Your pussy clenched around the egg, although the device from Fontaine wasn’t moving anymore.

Ayato had slapped you, and it only turned you on even more.

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Ayato spoke coolly. “But if that’s really all you have left to say, you have to beg.”

You didn’t have any time to respond – the egg sprung back to life on full blast, the tendrils of Hydro tightening around your clit and nipples once again. You wailed, feeling your orgasm build and build once again, knowing it would all be rudely taken from you again.

Mere seconds later, everything slowed to a crawl. The egg was barely vibrating, and the Hydro tentacles massaged you delicately. You whined at the reduction in motion, but this was better than a complete loss of pleasure.

“I said beg.” Another sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality.

“M-master Ayato, I swear I’ll be good. I’ll please you so good. Just give me your cock, I want it so bad. I need it so bad.” You squirmed in your seat, blubbering, fat tears rolling down your face.

“Then prove it.”

With a sharp yank, your chair was tipped forward, until it reached an angle where your head was surely at waist-height. You didn’t know who was holding the chair – Ayato, the Hydro tentacles, or someone else – all thoughts left your body as the warm and soft tip of Ayato’s dick was pressed against your lips.

You opened your mouth, welcoming him in, and Ayato buried himself until your nose was pressed against the hair of his lower stomach. Your throat convulsed as you choked around his cock, the tip pressing painfully against the back of your throat. You began to shed tears as your throat constricted around his girth, unable to escape as Ayato dug both hands into your hair to keep your head pressed firmly at the base of his length.

Ayato savored the choking noises you were making; he loved the way your throat bulged as it took in all of him. He reached over and pulled your blindfold off, wanting to see the tears you would cry when he fucked your throat.

You blinked as the room suddenly became far too bright, your senses flooded as you glanced upwards to see a wall of toned stomach. At the top, the Yashiro Commissioner smirked down at you, his gaze almost sadistic.

Ayato finally began to move, setting a brutal pace. You wailed as your throat was abused over and over, but he didn’t seem to care at all as you choked and gagged painfully. Tears began to roll down your cheeks that you couldn’t help. Amidst his punishing thrusts, you glanced upwards again, realizing that Ayato was now grinning down at you. He was reveling in your pain. 

And why did that only turn you on even more?

Your pussy clenched around the softly buzzing egg, and you realized you might actually finally orgasm from this.

Your cries began to turn into moans, mixing with your choking and gagging that reverberated against Ayato’s cock, seeming to milk his climax from him.

You were so close, so close to orgasm when Ayato pulled himself out of your mouth. You paused, wondering why he stopped so suddenly, when hot and sticky ropes of cum sprayed over your face and chest. You blinked, some of the cum managing to land in your eyelashes, then looked down to see your chest coated in white. That was when you realized your binds weren’t normal ropes or chains… They were neatly tied red ropes that cut across your body in seductive patterns, and you realized Ayato had tied you up in shibari from the beginning.

You looked up, seeing a drop of cum fall from the blushing tip of Ayato’s cock, staring at the beautiful colors and curves of his throbbing member.

All of these thoughts distracted you from your orgasm that ebbed away, and you realized a fifth one had been stolen from you. This was beginning to drive you insane. 

“Master Ayato-” Your whines were cut short as you watched a glowing translucent tentacle slip down your stomach towards your drooling cunt. It pressed into you, exploring your sensitive walls, wrapping around and withdrawing the egg that was now completely dripping with your own wetness.

As soon as the egg was removed, Ayato’s hands worked quickly, uprighting the chair and changing the binds around your hips to slide them forwards towards the edge of the chair. 

Once this was finished, he immediately lined up his cock with your entrance and buried himself inside you with no hesitation. Your pussy took him in readily thanks to the endless teasing it had received over the past hour. Still, the sudden intrusion stretched you, balancing a fine line between pleasure and pain. You felt so filled up, so stretched, your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned.

“Ahhhhnn, so good~!” You cried, even though Ayato hadn’t started moving yet. You looked up at the Yashiro Commissioner’s face and saw a smirk begin to grow.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You sure love being treated like this.” Ayato grinned menacingly, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be fucked.

His thrusts started out even harder than before – that was when you realized he had been holding back when fucking your throat. His hips snapped against your ass, giving no thought or care that he was going to leave bruises. You wanted to arch your back, spread your legs, give him greater access to your core, but these bindings left you fixed where you sat. Yet somehow, the concept of being tied down in one place only turned you on further, your wetness making squelching noises as he pummelled into you over and over. He didn’t seem to care at all that he was shaking you so violently with each thrust that the chair was already beginning to bruise your skin where you made the most contact with it – your back, shoulders, and the plush of your ass.

Your moans came out garbled, unable to make words as Ayato fucked you silly. He didn’t seem to show any sign of stopping as you were sent careening over the edge of an orgasm, screaming as your cunt clenched around his cock. Despite how much you were squeezing him, Ayato continued, intending to fuck you through all of your orgasms until he was done with you. You had finally reached your release, but the way Ayato continued to move told you that this was nowhere near finished. 

He enjoyed being slightly sadistic – he enjoyed teasing and hurting his partner until they couldn’t distinguish between pleasure and pain anymore – but that was nothing compared to what he was experiencing with you. He had never had someone who tried to kill him reduced to the point where they were begging him to fuck them. He wanted to ruin you, to watch you become a slave to his cock.

So now he intended to fuck you until he couldn’t continue anymore.

Ayato could feel another orgasm building up just thinking about how much you had begged for this – his thrusts, however, remained just the same as before, intending to punish you with his rhythm. When Ayato knew his orgasm couldn’t be held back anymore, he pulled out of you, painting your chest and stomach with ropes of white. 

You whined at the lack of sensation, your pussy convulsing around nothing. Ayato stared down at it in amusement. The sight of your quivering and dripping cunt alone was enough to make him hard again. He lined back up at your entrance, burying himself inside of you once again.

“Please, ‘s too much…” You murmured, your eyes unfocused from being so overwhelmed by pleasure.

“You asked for this. You begged for this, remember?” Ayato spoke coldly, smirking, beginning his brutal thrusts again.

“Ngh, anh~!” Your mouth fell open, drool beginning to drip from it as your eyes rolled back in your head. “Too good, too good…”

Ayato continued his pace, reveling in the way he was making you fall apart at the seams. The noises his cock made as it pummeled into you filled the room, the squelching and slapping sounds reverberating against the walls.

“Waka, I brought the four orders of boba you reque-” The door stopped halfway open, Ayato’s blonde assistant pausing as he witnessed the scene before him.

Ayato’s interrogations were usually either boring or spectacularly violent. They never were anything like this… He stared at his boss who was balls deep in the poor naked assassin who he had caught red-handed. Ayato’s thrusts had fallen still, and you began to blink back to life, realizing that someone had walked into the room.

“Ah, thank you Thoma, you can set it over there.” Ayato raised one hand to point at the table on the other side of the room, speaking perfectly calmly despite being balls deep in the cunt of someone tied up in shibari and covered in cum.

“Yes, sir.” Thoma walked over and set the servings of boba down on the table.

You finally had the wits about you to speak up. 

“What the fuck!?” You exclaimed, staring at the male assistant who seemed to be doing his best to ignore the scene he had walked into.

“On second thought, Thoma, bring me a cup.” Ayato spoke, holding one hand out as he ordered his retainer around.

“Yes, sir.” Thoma picked up one of the boba, handing it to the Yashiro Commissioner.

You watched in both awe and disgust as Ayato ripped open the top with his teeth. He grabbed your jaw with one hand and poured the boba all over your face with the other.

You choked and sputtered as the sweet liquid bombarded you once again, but couldn’t do much to resist as Ayato wrenched your mouth open to pour it down your throat.

This time, thankfully, you knew to hold your breath. However, you weren’t prepared to feel his soft and warm lips latch onto yours. His tongue invaded your mouth, scooping up the sweet boba pearls.

“Mmmh!” Your eyes went wide as you made a noise that bordered between protest and pleasure.

Ayato withdrew from the kiss, and you looked up to see him chewing on the boba that had just been in your mouth moments prior. He stared down at you, the milky tea running down your shoulders and torso, mixing with the cum from his previous releases.

“Hm.” He smirked, beginning to move his hips again to rut into your overused pussy.

“Aahn~” you moaned, your eyes going wide from the excessive stimulation.

“Uhm,” poor Thoma spoke up as he shifted in place, “I’ll take my leave now.”

“No.” Ayato responded sharply, his thrusts remaining just as quick and hard as he gave orders to his assistant. “You can watch.”

“Y-yes sir.” Thoma responded, his face turning pink.

You glanced over at the blonde assistant, your vision bouncing from how hard Ayato was shaking you with his thrusts. You gazes met for a moment, and his blush deepened. That was when your eyes shifted downwards to see a very obvious bulge in his pants.

Your eyes lingered for a moment too long, and Ayato wouldn’t let that slide. You felt fingers close around your neck, cutting off your supply of air.

“Look at me.” Ayato commanded, and you shifted to stare at his smug face through half-lidded eyes. 

The lack of air supply somehow elevated your pleasure even more, your walls clenching tighter around his cock. Your eyes began to roll back in your head, your vision unfocusing as you tried your best to continue staring up at Ayato.

“Yes…good.” Ayato grunted as the lack of air sent stars into your vision.

It was too much…the relentless abuse of your cunt, the second pair of eyes fixed on your sex, the lack of air…you went careening over the edge of your climax as you convulsed around Ayato. He continued thrusting, prolonging your orgasm, your vision finally going dark as you passed out. 

Thoma watched you go limp, worried for a moment that Ayato had simply choked you to death. However, Ayato quickly pulled out of you, releasing his grip on your neck as he let his climax spray over you in thick spurts. Thoma watched your chest rise and fall steadily with each breath, relieved that you were actually alive.

The Yashiro Commissioner walked over calmly, picking up a small towel and wiping himself clean. He put his pants and coat back on, checking his gloves before slipping them on as well. Thoma stared at his master, watching in awe as he effortlessly made himself look as if nothing lewd had ever happened.

“Nghh…” you groaned, finally coming back to your senses. Your eyes blinked open as you realized that everything that just happened wasn’t some insane dream.

“I’d like to make you an offer.” Ayato spoke up calmly. “Come work for me, and I’ll pay you double what you receive for murder.” 

You gawked. You were sitting in front of him, naked and tied to a chair, having just been fucked out of your mind. How could Ayato be thinking about work? You simply stared at the blue-haired Commissioner.

“You can respond when you’re ready.” Ayato continued as he turned and walked towards the door. “I have a meeting to attend. Thoma, clean up our guest.”

Guest…? Weren’t you only just being interrogated hours prior?

“Yes, sir.” Thoma responded.

As Ayato reached the door, he turned around and took one last glance at you. Your skin was shiny with dried milk tea, sweat, and cum. Your pussy was swollen and gaping, strings of your cum dripping from your abused entrance onto the chair and the floor below you. Your cheeks were rosy and eyes hazy from the volumes of pleasure he had just put you through. Ayato thought you were beautiful like this. Your leaking entrance seemed like it was calling to him, begging for more punishment from his cock, but Ayato couldn’t indulge himself any longer – he couldn’t be late to this meeting.

As Ayato finally left the room, Thoma rushed towards you and began to work on the knots that bound you to the chair. You glanced down at his pants as you watched him work, noticing that he was just as hard as before.

Finally, the ropes had loosened enough and your exhausted body slumped forward onto Thoma.

“Easy, there.” Thoma murmured, carefully catching your limp body. He didn’t seem to care that his clothes were getting stained with the tea and cum that coated your skin. You felt your leg brush against his stiff member, making Thoma freeze for a second.

“Ngh… I’m sorry…” you murmured.

“N-no, it’s okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Thoma responded calmly.

“Do you… want me to help… you with it?” You spoke. Thoma leaned back to meet your gaze, his green eyes staring into yours as he immediately knew what you were talking about. You had just been overstimulated until you passed out… And you’re already offering to help get Thoma off? The blonde assistant began to understand why Ayato had made you such an incredible offer.

“L-let’s get you cleaned up first.”

~Two Days Later~

You were resting in the plush sheets of a large bed. You had been allowed to stay in a spacious yet modestly decorated bedroom in the Kamisato estate. What little furnishings the room did have, however, were exquisite. You had no idea how you went from criminal to guest, but the events that led you to this point had left you craving the Yashiro Commissioner. In the past two nights, you had woken up sweaty and out of breath from some sort of lewd dream, your underwear ruined from the dirty thoughts that ran wild in your head.

Of course, after only one night, you gave Ayato your response. You were more eager than anything to work for him. Working for him would mean being around him more, giving you more chances to feel his cock fill you, to have him fuck you until you cried, to have him choke you through your orgasm…

A soft knock on the door stirred you from your thoughts.

“It’s Thoma, may I come in?”

“Y-yes!” You responded, sitting up in bed. The door slowly opened to show the blonde wearing a black-and-white ruffled maid uniform. Your mouth dropped open, realizing this was a stark difference compared to the red jacket and pants you had last seen him in.

“I brought your uniform…” Thoma walked towards the bed, setting a large but lightweight box in front of you. A hint of pink dusted his cheeks as he noticed your reaction to what he was wearing.

You glanced down at the box, slowly lifting the lid to see a similar ruffled dress folded neatly inside.

“Is this… what all the Kamisato servants wear?” You questioned, staring down at the contents of the box. A dress, a headband, and… a garter?

“No, definitely not.” Thoma responded, waving his hands in front of him. “It’s just for Ayato’s…personal staff. You only wear this inside the estate, and change into your own clothes when you go outside for anything.”

“I…see.” You began to feel turned on merely by the thought of wearing this sort of outfit in front of Ayato.

“Oh, and one other thing.” Thoma cut in. “No underwear allowed.”

Your eyes widened as you watched Thoma lift the hem of his dress. He raised it just enough to see his upper thigh, where a small box with a tiny button was taped to the soft skin. A thin wire trailed from the box and up his inner thigh, and you immediately knew where it was going. As Thoma dropped the hem of his dress and you met his gaze, you couldn’t help the smile that began to grow on your face.

You were glad your plan to kill the Yashiro Commissioner went so wrong.

~~~

[shadowdaddies]

Hello!! Could you do a fluffy Rhys x reader fic where reader has a bad habit of over working themself? Like they have a fear of letting people down if they don’t get it done or a fear of failure? Maybe a dash of praise in there🫡🫡

I have the worst habit of overworking myself simply because I am the youngest and always held up to expectations of my older siblings. It has also developed the need for perfection in my work.

sometimes I swear you guys can read my mind. I'm also a youngest child and my anxiety has been exhausting me lately so this was nice to write 💜

Just Rest

Rhys x Reader fluff

warnings: a lil suggestive hehe

You hung your aching head in your hands, hoping you could somehow will the exhaustion from your body as the book in front of you faded in and out of focus. You’d been at this for - what time was it? Rubbing your eyes, you glanced up at the clock on the wall to see it was past ten at night. You had been in here for almost fourteen hours with minimal breaks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

You had to find the answer in one of these texts - otherwise, you were a failure to your Court. With a sigh, you tied your hair up in a bun - thanking the house when it blessed you with another cup of tea, savoring how the warm cup soothed your cold, aching hands. 

You set down the cup, blinking your eyes to regain focus as you aimed to find where you’d left off in the book. The sound of soft footfalls interrupted your focus, a familiar voice sounding from behind you as your mate purred, “what are you still doing in here, darling?” You turned your head just in time for Rhys to place a kiss to your cheek, wrapping his arms around you as he peered over your shoulder at the cluttered desk.

You sighed, holding his hands that were crossed over your chest. “I’ve been looking for any lead on how Koschei’s forces made it through our wards, but I haven’t found anything in all of these books.” You gestured to the stacks surrounding you - the overflow of information that you had been forcing yourself to absorb over the countless hours.

Rhys sighed, holding you tighter as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “I think that a break would do you some good, darling.” You twisted around in your seat, giving him an incredulous look. “Rhys, I can’t stop! If I don’t find some answers... I need to contribute.” 

Quirking an eyebrow at you, Rhys circled around to sit on the edge of the desk. With one long finger, he tilted your chin to look at him - power emanating from those violet eyes as he spoke. “You ‘contribute’ more than enough. You make this Court and my life a better place, and right now the best thing you can do for us is to let me take care of my beautiful mate.” 

You nearly melted at his words, the praise you didn’t realize you had been needing. Tilting your head to rest your cheek in his hand, you sighed and nodded up at him. “Good girl,” Rhys cooed, running his thumb across your lower lip as he smirked down at you. Heat pooled in your core at his praise, and you found yourself entranced by your mate.

Quickly standing up from the desk, Rhys kicked out your chair, startling you as he reached down and picked you up bridal style. You giggled, relaxing into Rhys’s strong arms as he carried you over to the sitting area by the fire. He laid you down on the sofa, lifting up your legs as he sat at your feet facing opposite you. 

“Lean back, darling,” he spoke softly as he watched to make sure you nestled into the pillows behind you. Rhys took your foot in his hands, and began gentling massaging the sore appendage. Despite how good it felt, you attempted to protest. “Rhys, I’ve been walking around here all day, my feet are filthy!” With a feline smirk, Rhys lifted your leg, pressing a kiss to your ankle - his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh darling, I plan to do much filthier things to you later,” he purred, sending you a mental image of exactly what he meant.

Struggling to keep your breathing steady, you slowly leaned back against the pillows and tried to relax. Rhys continued massaging your feet, and the last thing you remembered before falling asleep was his whispered praises as he moved to massage your legs.

You woke up to a shift in the bed, finding that Rhys had brought you upstairs while you were sleeping. “Shh, it’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep,” he murmured as he slipped under the covers. You shifted over, snuggling into Rhys’s side as you threw a leg over his waist, promptly falling back to sleep for a good night’s rest.

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x Reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 4086

>contents: sliiightly angsty but mostly just (very lovey-dovey) porn, reader is insecure, reader struggles with acne, established relationship, alcohol (very minor mentions), hair pulling (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), explicit p in v, multiple orgasms (f! receiving), choking (f! receiving), finger sucking (m! receiving), (very brief) cervix fucking, creampie, satoru calls you baby, angel, and pretty girl a lot, satoru being the world’s #1 boyfriend hehe

he knows something is off the first time it happens, early in the morning, arms outstretched to pull you in close and cover you in kisses. he knows something is off with the way you turn away from him, smile not reaching your eyes as you try to distract him with a joke about how you need to shower.

he knows something is wrong the second time it happens, when he comes home after 3 weeks away and all he wants is to hold you. he knows something is wrong when he cups your face with his large hands and you begin to shy away, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before scurrying from his grasp, mumbling an excuse about finishing the dinner you were cooking.

he knows he has to do something the third time it happens, when he says something so ridiculous it makes you laugh so hard tears are coming from your eyes. he knows he has to do something when you abruptly break free from your laughing fit and see him watching you. you grimace to yourself like he won’t notice, looking away with something akin to embarrassment on your features.

satoru doesn’t understand what is happening. he’s been trying to piece it together for over a month now, but it just doesn't make sense. he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong and the two of you haven’t had any fights or arguments lately, so he knows that isn’t it. but it’s killing him inside how you seem to want little to do with him physically. he knows it isn’t a matter of you no longer thinking he’s attractive or falling out of love with him; he can hear the sincerity in your voice, see it in your glassy eyes when he has to leave for a mission and you tell him that you’ll miss his “stupid, pretty face”, that he better come home to you as soon as possible. but when he does come home, you barely want him to touch you. the gears are turning in his mind, have been nonstop for a long while now, but he still just doesn’t get it.

satoru decides to bring it up later this evening, after the two of you have eaten dinner and you relax on the couch with a bottle of sake between the two of you. he notices how far away you sit from him, how you curl up into yourself instead of into him like you would before, and it hurts. but he is not one to give up, never has been, so he sucks his teeth, gathering your attention and gesturing you over.

“c’mere, pretty. wanna cuddle.” he watches you intently, watches as your brain clocks in overtime to find an excuse to give him so you can avoid his touch. the moment you open your mouth, he’s grabbing you by your ankle and dragging you so you lay flat on your back on the sofa, your calling out falling on deaf ears. he frowns at you, climbing on top of you and sitting on your hips. “satoru, c’mon! you’re heavy!” you whine, squirming from your position beneath him but he won’t let up.

“you know that i love you, right?”

the question puts an immediate halt to your movement, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden declaration, at the intense, serious look in his eyes. you nod slowly, lips parting to speak but you don’t get the chance to question him before he starts up again. “and you still love me?” the confusion is evident in your glimmering eyes, but you nod again. “of course i do, ‘toru… wha- what is this about?” he gives you a pointed look, as if he caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. “baby. you know what this is about. you don’t let me touch you or kiss you anymore and i just- did i do something? is it me? if it’s me, just tell me, ‘cause you’re breaking my heart here, angel.”

fuck. looks like the jig’s up. you thought you’d been able to satiate him enough for him not to notice, but in retrospect, you were foolish to think that was possible. satoru notices everything, even if he doesn’t speak on it right away. the guilt you feel is so strong your chest hurts. you turn your head away from him, trying your best to will away the tears you feel brewing, but you end up failing. “it’s not- it’s not you, ‘toru.” you feel his hands on your face, thumbs gently sweeping under your eyes and across your temples to wipe away the salty streaks. “then what is it? please, baby, talk to me. ‘cause i miss you every day even though you’re right next to me.” you swallow hard and open your eyes to meet the crystalline blue staring back at you, and the look of despair on satoru’s face makes the tears fall much faster.

“i just think you deserve someone who isn’t..ugly.” the words leave your lips and satoru is taken aback, face immediately twisted up, eyebrows knitted together. “sweetheart, please tell me you’re joking. oh god, did something happen to your eyes?!” he begins to wave his fingers around in front of your view, throwing up different numbers of his digits and it makes you laugh despite the tears still escaping. you slap at his hands lightly, shaking your head as you sniffle. “my eyes are fine, satoru, it’s yours that must be broken.” the sorrowful look from before returns to your face and satoru instantly misses the sweet, comforting sound of your laughter from a second ago. “you can’t tell me you don’t notice..all of this.” you gesture vaguely to your face and he blinks at you. “of course i notice your face. you’re like, the prettiest, most gorgeous girl in the whole world.” you roll your eyes, attempting to worm yourself out from beneath him again, still unsuccessful as he grabs your wrists in both hands. “no, stop, i mean it. look…okay, yes, i’ve noticed that you’re dealing with a breakout but if you think that that makes you ugly, especially to me, you are sorely mistaken. if you think that would make me love you any less..i clearly haven’t beat it into your brain enough. i’m sorry, pretty. i’m sorry you feel this way.”

you’re quite sure you’re full-on sobbing now, and satoru’s fingers cup your face once again, wiping away at the dampness. it was true, you’d been dealing with a bad breakout for a few months now, acne and scars littering each section of your face like stars litter the night sky. it was painful on top of the change in your appearance, and it made you severely self conscious. you hardly wanted to leave your shared home, hardly wanted to even let your own boyfriend see you. the skincare products were getting more and more expensive and working less and less as time went on. it was a lot to deal with, and the stress of dealing with it made it worse. vicious cycle.

you can feel him leaning down as your now free hands reach for his own, holding him as he holds you. soft lips touch your forehead, rounding kisses down to your cheeks, then your nose, then your jaw, and finally on your own lips. he kisses you softly, like something fragile, something delicate that he’s much too afraid to break. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to push you away or-or make you think i didn’t love you anymore. was just..scared, i guess.” your voice is quiet but you know he heard every bit, love in his eyes as he stares down at you, a sweet smile stretching his lips. “s’okay, pretty. there’s nothing to be scared of, not with me. i love you too, far more than i know how to tell you. what’d’ya say we do some face masks and kill this bottle of sake, hm? actually, i’m giving you no choice. c’mon, sweet cheeks, up, let’s go.”

about 45 minutes later (would’ve been less if somebody wasn’t too busy feeling you up and distracting you with kisses), you’re back on the couch with satoru, except this time you’re actually snuggled in close with him. he’d gotten you all comfy, clay face masks smeared on your faces, dressed in one of his big t-shirts and your panties, warm on the inside from the sake. his arm curls around your back with his large hand rested on your thigh, fingers flexing against the soft flesh and it’s making you feel warm somewhere else too. you have your own hand sliding up the back of his neck, combing through the short hairs there, nails scraping against his scalp. he sighs at the touch, leaning his head towards yours and giving you a lazy, tipsy smile. “hi, pretty,” he says, “that feels good.” you smile back, scratch a little harder at that, give the snow-colored strands a tug and he audibly moans. his shining blue eyes narrow at you and his hand leaves your thigh as both of them find your hips, pushing you onto your back beneath him for the second time today. he wastes no time allowing his lips to find yours and your hands slide further into his hair, gasps and giggles leaving you and being swallowed up by satoru. the way he kisses you now is far different from earlier. this time you can almost taste the desperation in his saliva, in the way his tongue bullies it’s way into your mouth to slide against your own. it’s slow but still messy, still needy and it makes your head spin and your heart thump. his lips eventually leave yours in favor of the column of your throat, shiny wet lips pressing against the skin, sucking and licking and marking you. a big hand sneaks its way down between you, lifting up your shirt to find the front of your panties, already damp. you choke out his name when those fingers dip inside, spreading your folds to tease around your slick hole.

“so wet already, fuck.. ‘m gonna get a taste of you, angel, s’that okay?” you moan at satoru’s words, nodding your head in an immediate response. there’s one last harsh bite to your throat, tapping his fingers on your puffy clit as he pulls his hand out of your underwear. he climbs off of the sofa and drops to his knees, grabbing your hips and rag-dolling you into position right in front of him. you do your best to help by shoving your panties down to your thighs, and he finishes the job by sliding them the rest of the way off, tossing them beside him. satoru spreads your soft thighs, pushing your knees up and you would hate the way he stares at your cunt if it didn’t make you throb so much. he decides no time is better than the present so he gets to work, bringing his hands further down your inner thighs and using his thumbs to spread your lips apart. he licks a long line up from your sticky opening and right to your clit, a contagious moan vibrating you as it leaves him. he savors your taste like it’s the most gourmet meal he could ever eat, licking and slurping all up and down your pussy, nose bumping against your clit in the most thigh-shakingly delicious way when he’d focus the wet muscle on your hole. “oh my god, ‘toru,” you whimper, cunt clenching around nothing when you meet his heated stare from his position between your legs. he removes his mouth from you briefly, bringing his fingers to your sopping pussy to slip the middle one inside. “yeah? feels good? tell me, pretty girl. tell me how good it is.” your eyes fall shut and you gasp as he curls his experienced finger, finding the spongy spot inside of you that he knows drives you crazy in an instant. satoru’s lips find your clit again and the combination of his mouth and, now two fingers, has your head falling back against the sofa, crying out his name like it’s the only word your mouth knows how to form. “‘t-toru, ‘toru please! feels so f-ucking good, ‘m gonna cum, please- please, don’t stop..” your hiccuping babbles spur him on further, fingers incessant against your sweet spot and tongue relentless against your clit. “that’s it, make a mess for me. cum on my tongue, pretty,” satoru groans against your slit and your thighs clamp around his head, lips parted in a silent scream as your cunt weeps. your orgasm is world-shattering, eyes rolling back into your head with a tight grip on satoru’s hair and he finger fucks you through it, relishing in the way your pussy grips his fingers so tight. after a moment, he slows to a stop, easing his fingers out of your core and you watch with ragged breathing as he sticks them right in his mouth, a moan escaping him as he swirls his tongue around his cum-covered digits.

“sweeter than candy, every fuckin’ time.” he licks his lips, pupils blown wide, black swallowing up the blue that normally surrounds them. you can’t even help yourself as you lean forward and stitch your mouths together, tasting yourself on his tongue and you moan wantonly when he bites down on your bottom lip. if you thought he was needy before, you should’ve seen yourself now, hands gripping at the waistband of his sweats, yanking and pulling as quickly as you can. “please, i need you, need you inside me, please,” you whine into his mouth, urgency weighing heavy on your tongue, at your fingertips and he obliges you same as he always would. he shoves his pants down, off of his toned legs and presses you back into the couch, practically ripping his shirt off before climbing between the plush of your thighs. his cock is aching between you, flushed pink and tip sticky with precum that stains your skin as it bobs against the crease of your thigh and hip. his lips leave yours again and he sits up on his haunches, gazing at you with low-lidded eyes full of lust, full of the desire to make you cum until you can’t anymore. large hands find your waist, fingertips digging into your lower back and you’re pulled flush against him, warm skin on warmer, wetter skin and your lip is between your teeth when your eyes travel up from where you meet to his own.

“prettiest girl in the whole damn world.” he says and the bashfulness of your smile has him growing impossibly harder. his hand leaves your thigh to hold the base of his cock, guiding the tip up and down your sticky slit to collect as much of the slick that resides there as he possibly can. the wide mushroom head of his dick soon finds its place at your hole, spreading your folds around him as he sinks in to you and the moan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. satoru could rival even the most renowned pornstars in this moment, all long, lean torso and plush, pink lips as he eases inside of your cunt. he takes his time carving his way into you, drawing curses from deep in your chest as he makes you feel every. single. inch that he has to offer, and it’s much more than a few. one of his hands reaches up to cup your jaw, thumb tracing across your bottom lip before he pulls it down, opening your mouth for that same thumb to land on the pad of your warm tongue. your lips close around it and he sighs, so satisfied, so immersed in everything you. “can’t believe i have a girl as beautiful as you. make me so fucking hard just lookin’ at you.” he punctuates his sentence with a deep groan, pelvis finally hitting yours as he bottoms out inside of you. he’s deep, so goddamn deep you swear you can feel him in your chest. it feels like it’s been forever since you’d been this intimate together. you’d still had sex with satoru while going through your bout of insecurity, but you were careful to make sure things only happened in the dark or with him behind you. being face to face now, with him staring at you like you created the earth, the moon, and the stars, it almost felt like too much to bear. there’s something wet and warm threatening to spill from your lash line, and you try your best to blink it away but satoru is too damn perceptive.

“it’s okay, angel, let it out. ‘m right here, baby, ‘m gonna take care of you. ‘m always gonna take care of you, make you feel good like you deserve..tell you how fucking gorgeous you are until the day that i die.” his fingers dig into your thigh as he begins to roll his hips, slow, so slow it could almost be classified as torture if it didn’t feel so fucking good. you’re moaning around his thumb and he’s still talking, still praising you, still proclaiming your beauty into the air of your living room. his heavy cock hits that spongy spot inside of you just right and you cry out his name which only eggs him on to keep that angle, to keep rutting into you so he can hear it again and again. his thrusts grow harder the more you whine and moan and call for him. he thinks you’re addictive, the way your lips form around his name, the gasps, the way your eyes cross when his pelvis grinds against your clit when he leans down to kiss your exposed throat.

“t-toru, i love you, love you so much, missed you so much, ‘m sorry, m’ so sorry,” you choke out, hands gripping at his bulging biceps. his face is pressed against your own, lips at your ear and the way your name falls from his lips has more tears threatening to spill.

“don’t be sorry, baby, ‘s okay. i love you too, love you so much it hurts. fuck, i missed you, missed your sweet face, missed this tight little pussy.” his hips are moving faster now, cock pounding deep into you and the squelching sounds of your wet cunt are absurdly lewd in your ears. he kisses the shell of your ear before sitting up again, hands slipping under your thighs to push your knees up to your chest and oh, god, that’s your cervix he’s hitting now. one hand leaves your legs in favor of your cunt, thumb moving in quick circles against your puffy clit. you’re calling out to god, the heavens, anyone who will listen as he makes you cum for the second, but nowhere near last, time of the night, clenching around him and sucking his thick cock deeper into your channel. he fucks you right on through it, groans rumbling from his throat as you squeeze him, leaving translucent white rings around the base of his dick and he needs it again and again. when he feels you coming down from your peak he slowly pulls out of you, carefully lifting you to turn you over onto your front. you don’t even get a moment to react to your new positioning, hips and ass raised and bare to satoru’s view, before he’s sliding back into you again. the slap of his pelvis against your bare ass is so loud you start to worry that your neighbors might hear, but you don’t have too long to think about it, brain turning to mush as satoru leans over your back, leaving kisses to decorate your neck and shoulders.

“my sweet girl, my pretty little angel, you feel so good.” his voice is low in your ear and it has you clenching around his twitching cock even tighter, meeting his thrusts with your own. he pulls away from you only briefly to fit a hand around your neck, pulling you up and back against his chest. your head falls back against his shoulder and your moans have yet to cease, only growing louder as the free hand of the white-haired man snakes down your body and to your clit.

“who’s my pretty girl? hm?” the words whispered in your ear have you whining, face flushing deeper than it already was. you try, you try yet again to avoid him but it’s truly impossible this time with the way he invades your senses. he knows what you’re doing when you moan his name instead of answering, and he doesn’t let up.

“c’mon, sweet thing, say it for me. say it and i’ll let you cum. who. is. my. pretty. girl?” he punctuates his last sentence with harsh strokes of his hips and you realize the wetness you suddenly feel on your cheeks is from your own eyes. you have no choice but to give in as you know he won’t, he’s far too committed to do that. it takes you a moment to muster it up, and you almost choke on the words when you do.

“f-fuck, i am, toru.. i’m your pretty girl.” it leaves you as little more than a whisper. his mouth is hot against your ear and he bites down on the shell of it before he speaks again.

“louder, baby, i can’t hear you.” his fingers toying at your clit lessen their pace, hand around your throat tightening just a bit, not enough to hurt or deprive you, but just enough for you to remember it’s imposing nature. satoru knows what he’s doing to you, and he knows that you know, too. the words are hard to shape your lips around, he knows that, but he makes you do it anyway and a part of you falls harder in love with him for it. the other, much smaller and far more insecure part wants to wrap your own hands around his throat.

“i’m…i’m your pretty girl! i’m toru’s pretty girl, only yours, always yours, baby.” you can tell he’s satisfied with the rumbling moan he lets out against your cheek and his fingers are back to the speed you need them at. the way satoru plays your body like an instrument is noteworthy, should be studied by scholars how someone can fuck so good, can please their partner in ways you could only dream of before him. the whimpers that leave you signify how close you are again, and the ever determined satoru takes full advantage of it, murmuring a combination of absolute filth and romantically sweet praises into your ear. it’s only a short while before you’re spasming around the length of his cock again, no care for who can hear you as you practically shout his name. you can feel how much closer your orgasm brings satoru to his own, his thrusts are sloppier and he’s much more vocal (if that’s even possible) in your ear. you turn your head as far as you can to connect your lips with his and your fingers reach back to knot into his hair.

“cum inside me, toru, i need it, give it to me,” you sigh into his mouth and he shudders, hips jerking and hand around your throat tightening once more. his lips lose yours and a stuttering moan leaves him, your name on his tongue as he finally reaches his peak. he cums hard and he cums a lot, a sticky white meld of you and him leaks out of you, around his cock and down your thighs. you’ll definitely have to get this couch cleaned but you don’t care about that right now because satoru is pressing the softest of kisses to your face, hips rolling to a stop behind you. he’s careful, slow to pull his softening cock out of you yet you still moan at the loss. he lets his chin rest on your shoulder and he sighs, his hand leaving it’s place at your neck and letting both palms meet your hips.

“we should’ve washed these face masks off, like, an hour ago.” you roll your eyes at the thought that exits his mouth and the way you laugh makes a contented smile appear on his face. he’s got his girl back, his smiling, laughing, pretty girl and all feels right in his world again.

>authors_note: i have been writing this for like 3 months 🧍‍♀️ but whatever i mean who doesn’t love super romantic porn even if it took centuries to arrive??! don’t know how this got to be 4k+ tho cause last time i checked the word count it was like 2600… anyways hope u gojo fuckers enjoy!

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