#AND WERE DONE 🤌🏻🤌🏻

[skoulsons]

me, ten minutes ago: hmmm I think this is a decent place to stop

the Wörter: mmm no ma’am sorry we’ve gotta put about eight more paragraphs in. your thoughts need to be put DOWN

[dustofthedailylife]

My bf just called me to tell me that his professor sent him the evaluation for his master's thesis and he got a 1.0 (FYI, that's the highest it can go. There is nothing above that. It's literally perfect essentially.)

I could cry, I'm so happy for him!! He's such a smart cookie.

I'm still waiting for my grades (it's been three months... 🥲)

[mer-se]

rare lil family night out. 🤍

[bunnys-kisses]

Hello!!! How are you?🫶🏻✨

First of all, I love your writing, you have a marvellous mind. Pls keep doing what you're doing, it's chef kiss 🤌🏻🩷

Secondly, I would like to make an order I can share and enjoy with Lando 😉 Can we have a carrot cake, a chocolate chip cookie and a custard tart with a mocha coffee and a double espresso shot?

We know the mix is a bit too much but we trust you. Thank you very much in advance. Xx ♥️

the bakery menu

feel free to order your own treats! as for this order i am happy to serve up something sweet! i really hope you like this, i am proud of it! i'm also surprised of the amount of lando norris everyone wants!

carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + custard tarts ("i've never done this before.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, oral sex (femme receiving), dirty talk, engineer!reader, driver!lando, virgin!reader, oral sex (lando receives),

lando loved you. he really did, not only were you his favourite engineer, you were also his girlfriend. lando didn't want to mess it all up and going too fast. but after almost five months of dating, you two had never had sex.

not that lando really minded, he wasn't some horny dog who needed his dick wet all the time. he wanted to cherish and love you. but sometimes, he'd let his mind wander at thoughts of you.

a particular one that bounced around in his mind, a personal favourite was the one where he bred you. that was for when you weren't with the team at races, and it was just lando and his fist.

thoughts of you in his arms, his cock bullied into your sweet pussy. his filthy words in your ear. sweet promises that he was going to breed you nice and well. and anytime you tried to mention your career, he'd just kiss you quiet. promising that you could still be an engineer with a couple of norris kids.

the thought of that made his cock ache every time he thought about it. belly full of life that the could snuggle after a race, taking your kids to the park. being a proper family. it always sent him over the edge and left a huge mess in his boxers.

but before he could make sure you were all full of his cum, he'd needed to have his first time with you. it wouldn't be fair to get you pregnant on your first time!

it was the off-season and you were back home. you two didn't live together, but you were over often. often scolding your boyfriend for misuse of the oven or something else that would be considered silly. he'd just smile and smooth the lines in your face with kisses.

the break between seasons felt like the perfect chance to finally get intimate with you. there was no jet-lag or running around. there was no sleepless nights and high anxiety days. you two could rest and get familiar with one another.

he was watching you check the pasta in the pot to see if it was fully cooked yet. he licked his lips and crossed his arms before he asked, "love, do you even think about us getting.. closer?"

you looked over and chuckled, "lando, i think it's a little too soon for us to live together."

lando scratched the back of his neck and replied, "no, no.. not yet. i mean, if you're comfortable. maybe we could try... having sex?" he felt his blood pressure jump.

you put the wooden spoon down on the counter and looked to your boyfriend. your mouth was in an 'o' shape for a moment before you said, "oh! sex!"

lando laughed, "you forgot about sex? i mean... did you ever think about sex.. sex with us?" he knew you weren't asexual or something akin to it, he knew that you masturbated and what not. you just never were in a situation where you would've had sex. and lando didn't want to shove it onto you.

your face went hot, "i mean... of course! i was just worried about having sex during the season!" you scratched your neck nervously, "i was worried that you'd pull something and your performance on the track would be worse. or that a change in the routine before and after races would ruin your chances of a good season."

lando laughed, "oh my god, love. come here." he got closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. then kissed you on the top of your head.

you looked at him, "i'm sorry. i didn't realize! but yes! i would love to have sex with you! but it might take a while. i've never even given a blow job."

lando kissed you once more, "how about after dinner, we start with that? we have a few months to get a little.. closer."

you nodded eagerly, "of course! i'd love to!" you heard the water boil over out of the pot and onto the stove. you got out of your lover's arms to check on the food.

lando felt excited. how could he not. he was getting a chance to feel intimate with his lovely girlfriend. the excitement that coursed through him even made your lovely dinner taste better!

-

"is there anything you want to try before we start. anything i can do to make this more comfortable." he asked as he looked down at you. you were seated on the bed. you feet didn't touch the floor of the bedroom. it was cute.

you swallowed, "um... i, uh. well." you looked away, your cheeks burned.

lando cupped your face and looked down at you, "nothing is gonna scare me, honey." he smiled at you, "tell me."

you said, your gaze met with him, "i.. i like dirty talk. anytime i've read it somewhere in like a story.. i found it very hot. and i know you're... mouthy." you chuckled a little to make a joke.

"well then." he said, "i'll keep that in mind."

you said a little nervously, "i'm a little nervous, i've never done this before." you felt a thrill of excitement through your body as you watched lando let go of you and pull his cock out of his shorts.

"don't worry, love." he said, "i'll make sure you feel good as well."

you pressed your cheek against his abdomen, letting him take control. the sight of his cock stirred something in you. a need for you to do your best and make your boyfriend feel good. even if you didn't have the skills, you were eager to learn.

and who would be a better teacher than your loving boyfriend. you closed your eyes and let lando guide your head onto his cock. you kissed his length before you softly took it in your mouth.

lando hissed through his teeth, but when you looked at him nervously he gave you a thumbs up, "don't worry. all good."

you took more in your mouth and started on a steady pace. you felt your heart hammer in your chest. you really had never done this before but you didn't want the excitement to cause you to mess up.

"that's it. that's a good girl." he groaned, the praise made you rub your thighs together. you were just so adorable. he couldn't wait to explore every inch of your sweet body.

he had all of the off-season to make love to you. and if he was lucky maybe his breeding kink could show a bit of himself. that made his cock twitch in your mouth.

your eyes were closed and your hands were on his hips to steady yourself as you orally pleasured him. you weren't terrible, at least in lando's opinion.

"are you sure this is your first time doing this?" he asked softly. you looked up at him once more, eyes gleaming. you nodded and little and lando laughed, "hmm, i don't know. you're really good at this." the praise made your core throb and lando noticed. he held onto your hair a little tighter and moved you a little further down his cock, "don't worry, love. it doesn't bite." and laughed. his cheeks were pink from the rush in his body.

you whimpered as you continued. you kept an ear open for all the noises that lando was making. from his heavy breathing to the shudder through his body. you trusted him that if you were doing something wrong, he'd tell you.

"you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat" he cooed at you, "i wonder what the rest of the team would feel if they saw you like this. i know some of them have thought about you, get a few drinks in 'em and they're talking about how they want to be the one to ruin your virginity." he laughed, "but i know i'll be the one to ruin them for you. you'll only want my cock."

you whimpered, your pussy was slick. this was hottest thing you've ever thought could happen. yeah, you've read erotic fiction and gotten a bit flustered. but this was something else. this sent a shock through you as you continued to pleasure him.

orgasm felt sharp in his mind. he softly guided you as the dirty talk tumbled out of his mouth. "i wonder if i could make you choke next time." he panted, "i wonder how good you could take me. i want all of you, love. i want to see all the ways i could make you cum. i want it all, and we got all of the off-season to see what makes you tick."

you whimpered.

"my pretty girl." he purred, it made your heart leap.

"lando." you said with a glaze in your eyes. your voice was muffled by the cock in your mouth and it was so painfully cute but also erotic that it sent lando over the edge.

his pretty girl, his little engineer with his cock stuffed in your throat. it couldn't get better than that. the words tumbled out of his mouth, "swallow it. all of it." and the look you gave made him easily cum down your throat. he almost got hard for a second time when he saw how dutifully you swallowed it all down.

"holy shit." he panted.

as you laid back on the bed to catch your breath. you knew the night wasn't over because lando was soon between your legs with your calves over his shoulders. it was only fair that he returned the favour.

after all, he learned something very important about his girlfriend. she was easy to get wet. <3

[fruittt-punchhh]

what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻

everyone please let anon cook.

MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.

WC: 4.8k

CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.

“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.

“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.

“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.

You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.

You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.

“Remember that special day coming up soon?”

Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.

“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”

Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?

“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.

“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.

“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”

How elementary.

“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”

Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.

“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.

He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.

You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.

“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.

He grips your hand tightly.

His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.

His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.

Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.

“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.

“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”

Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.

“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.

“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.

He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.

“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.

You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.

“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”

This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.

“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.

He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.

“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.

Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.

“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.

He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”

The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.

You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.

You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.

Always so nosy.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.

You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.

You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.

You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.

He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.

He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.

Or so he thought.

You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.

“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”

He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.

“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.

You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.

Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.

You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.

“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.

Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.

“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.

“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.

You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.

“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.

He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.

“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.

“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.

You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.

“No what?”

You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.

“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.

You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.

You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.

“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.

You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.

He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.

You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.

“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.

“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?

He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.

You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.

“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.

You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).

You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.

“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.

You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.

“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.

He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.

“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.

You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.

“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.

He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.

“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.

“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.

The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.

“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.

You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.

“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.

You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.

“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.

Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.

“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.

This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.

“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.

Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —

A hand?

Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.

“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.

Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.

“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”

Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.

“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.

All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.

“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.

He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.

“No ma’am. We’re jus’ gettin’ started, hah.”

@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum @tojiluhbit @leeisyourmom

[itsonlydana]

Heyy I just wanted to ask if you could write something for Thranduil x gn!reader just something really light and fluffy maybe like how he takes care of reader what they do in a day and just spending time together doing romantic things and reader really just enjoying life without a care in the world... (Deine Fanfictions sind soooo super ❤️Ich stecke grade sowas von in der Prüfungsphase es ist echt Gold wert wenn man deine Stories zu Lesen hat🤌🏻 )

Spoil Me, Pamper Me, Love Me | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x gn!reader 👑

a cozy day spent with Thranduil

warnings/tags: none, fluff!

words: 1,4k

an: such a lovely request; had such a fun time writing it :) take the elvish terms of endearment with a grain of salt.. i literally googled them lmao but i made sure to use gender neutral names. [Ich wünsche dir viel Erfolg bei deinen Prüfungen, anon! Ich hatte meine im Februar und hoffe du kommst da gut durch <3]

+ masterlist + rules +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Being Thranduil's beloved comes with positives as well as negatives – he is a king, a leader after all, and most of his waking hours are dedicated to keeping up his political alliances.

This spanned from week-long travels to other kingdoms to meetings that could last long enough for most of the day to pass without seeing each other much.

Many of these affairs do not require personal attendance though and only expect Thranduil to correspond through letters; a convenience you both treasured admits all the dragging conferences at round tables that were more draining the less importance of the topic to be discussed – even a royal elitist like Thranduil, who took great pleasure in all things rich and extraordinary drew the line after twelve hours of staring at two types of wood to repair a bridge.

Paperwork days ��� as you called them – were the perfect opportunity for lazy mornings between you and Thranduil. Drowsily cuddling underneath silken sheets that caught the sunrise in their translucent fabric, shutting out the world for unhurried fooling around in each other's arms and with only your giggles and his huffed laughter carrying any indication you were awake at all.

Breakfast was served in your shared chambers and instead of getting up and dressed you took the small feast in bed, unbothered by the missed chit-chat and gossip that eating in the great hall brought forth for Thranduil's kisses are much sweeter than anything anyone could have done.

There is nothing the Elvenking wouldn't do for his significant other, including providing you with the ripest fruits to feed you only to lose himself in peppering kisses to your lips – chasing after the taste of the fruits that colored your lips red and pink.

"The sweetest," Thranduil mumbles, his lips moving from one upturned corner of your mouth over the bow of your lip to the other corner where he breathes another kiss into the crinkle of amusement that makes no effort of hiding across your whole face.

You are sprawled across the bed, still in an airy night robe that's pushed up to your thighs to leave room for Thranduil's hands to gently caress the skin.

The elf himself towers over you, the comfortable weight of his lean yet strong body pressing down on you as his hair falls over the both of you like a curtain of starlight. Your hands trail over his muscles as kisses the spot behind your ear that has you giggling and nudging your knee against his abdomen to push him away.

"Stop, my King–" you laughed, hands sprawled across his chest without any real strength behind them, "you know I can't stand this teasing!"

You feel the pull of his grin against your skin before you hear the rumble of his deep laugh. "I do, meleth e-guilen, I do," Thranduil says, and tipped his nose against yours, "but that makes it all the more tempting."

Your hands trail up to his shoulders and gather some of the light strands of hair, sweeping it over his back. His skin glows in the sun pouring through the window, thrumming under your touch, and with him draped over you, one warm leg between yours, the heat travels to you even if his broad back blocks out the golden light.

"Awful," you huff, "you are nothing but a dreadful lover, keeping me trapped here in bed." Like your hands on his chest, the words carry no harm behind them or any attempt to push him away from you.

If anything, you revel in the attention he peppers you with. The last weeks had dragged you apart and moments like this, where you had to think about nothing except for your lover's care toward you.

"Awful?" he repeats in a playful tone and makes a move to sit up. "Whatever did I do to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Instead, he quickly grabs you by your waist and before you can realize what's going on he has flipped you over, laughter bubbling up your lungs and spilling out while he falls back onto the mattress, pulling you with him and leaving you to topple over across him.

His fingers dig into your sides, holding you down onto him so you can't even escape the tickling that he dooms you with. "Awful, they say! I will show you dreadful, you minx."

Whenever you do make it out of bed eventually, hair all messed up by his hands, Thranduil insists on dressing you.

He treats you like you are made out of glass, warming up the milky creme in his hands before he massages it into your skin so that the chill doesn't bother you, and he sits behind you on the bed while he combs through your hair.

"Looks like thrush nested here," Thranduil chuckles. He barely evades the hand you swipe back at him as you snort indignantly. "Careful! You will scare the birds if you are not mindful of them"

The curse you throw at him instead has him gasping at the pure filth that leaves your mouth that, after hearing his reaction, curves into a smirk. "Get back to combing, Your Majesty. I do not have all day."

"Your word is my command, guren vell."

Thranduils lips kiss your neck, featherlight and then again, lingering. You sigh and let your head drop backward, falling to his shoulder, and blink up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes full of adoration.

His smile lights up a fire in your heart, the softness of it on marble features a reason to go to war just to see it again and for you to be the only recipient of this gentleness with which he wraps his arms around your middle, the hair comb long forgotten, that fuels the fire for all eternity.

On any other day, the duty to dress you would lay in the hands of your most trusted servants or your own, though nothing reached the level of wonderful that Thranduil made you feel right now, helping you to flowy robes.

For you, he even sinks to his knees, the only being alive that deserves this honor of the Elvenking kneeling in front of them, and you smile down at the crown in his hair, the silver circlet glittering just like his cerulean eyes in the midday sun, as he fixes your shoes for you but not without breathing more kisses on the inside of your calf which he carefully holds.

"Shall we walk through the gardens later?" Thranduils hand falls to your lower back on your way through the intricate floors of the underground palace, evoking a pleasant buzz in your stomach.

"We could go riding out," you muse, thinking back to the last time you and Thranduil had taken out the royal elk.

Thranduil steps closer, ignorant of the servants and elves rushing past you with lowered heads and bows, to nip at the curve of your pointed ear.

For everyone else, it looked like he had just kissed you, but his teeth grazed the delicate skin in a hidden manner.

That's how the public display of his utter devotion to you goes; loving kisses that – away from prying eyes – turn completely devoid of etiquette, as well as his hands that never seem to leave you, whether it's in the form of a simple pressure in your lower back or resting on your side to hold you close to him.

Thranduil did not need to put you on display for everyone to know you were his, the expression in his eyes told the story of a King completely in love in a way that didn't need flashy gems or luxuriant robes; not that those weren't gifts you regularly found yourself unpacking nevertheless.

"Whatever you wish for. My heart is your loyal servant," Thranduil vows, smiling at the bright-eyed expression you gift him at that.

The letters on his desk could wait for a day longer, he had all of eternity to manage his kingdom.

Thranduil spends the rest of the day tied to your side – or behind you on our royal moose, as you take him outside to the forest, Thranduils arms around your waist and his chin propped up on your head, as you let yourself fall into his chest. In these woods, with your beloved's sharp senses taking in all of your surroundings even while he busies himself with twirling the fabric of your robes between his fingers or drops kisses to your shoulder and neck, you are completely safe.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[the-apple-of-her-eye-au]

"Didn't you say we were arch rivals?" Yeah, girl, RIVALS AND LOVERS! 🐍 💣

HUMAN CHERRISNAKE BABYYY

Art commission by @blitzy-blitzwing who has done a 🤌🏻👌🏻 job with this one lads! ❤️❤️❤️

Cherri Bomb: E-Gamer, Skateboarder, Rollerblader, and all around badass is in a super-secret relationship with business rival, Sir Pentious, the CEO of an up and coming steampunk tech company.

[arts-bloody-rose]

Blood of A Rose - Part 3 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - As (Y/s)’s life blends into Art’s, she struggles to keep hold of her sanity with his influence as others continue to test her patience.

Notes - Shit’s getting juicy, y’all 🤌🏻 Let me know if you would like to be part of the tag list or have requests!

Word Count - 3,107

Warning(s) - Violence

Song Inspiration -

The Pretty Wild - Sleepwalker

The days bled into weeks, the weeks into months. As the bond between them grew stronger, so did the resemblance of (Y/n) in the abandoned building the clown called home. And with it, so did she. 

With much convincing, Art allowed her to make the bedroom her own safe space for when she spent her time there. With that being said, it also meant that if anyone other than either of themselves entered that room, there was no telling what that somebody would suffer through. 

Sure, it wasn’t as if it was common for others to wander into the building, and that alone would be a death wish. But anything that invaded what he considered to be her sacred grounds was subject to punishment of the highest degree. 

With countless hours of cleaning and rearranging, she was able to finally get rid of the dust and grime, save for a few particularly stubborn spots. And of course, the floors and walls were still rotted and peeling, but after getting a can of paint, roller brushes, and a pan, she figured it would be close enough to decent. 

With Art’s help, he opened the can of egg-white paint for her and carefully poured it into the pan, happily doing so with a large grin. Once he poured enough for her, he set down the can of paint and straightened himself up. 

“What?” (Y/n) asked him innocently when he looked at her mischievously. Then she noticed the hand behind his back. “No.” She warned him playfully, holding a finger out to him. 

He snatched her wrist and she shrieked as he launched his hand out from behind him, smearing what she assumed was paint onto her face. As the cold substance touched her lips she gagged and kept her lips tightly shut, refusing for it to get into her mouth anymore than it already had.

Meanwhile, the imp that was Art keeled over in silent laughter, slapping his thigh and mocking her gagging as she ran out to the basin in their work area before the paint dried up to clean it off. She dried her face and it flatlined as she glared at Art. He simply shrugged with a half-assed apology written on his face, letting her storm past him back into her room to start painting.  

The experience was peaceful, other than the rocky start and the fumes. Nothing could have prepared her for the fumes. The room wasn’t large and the building had no ventilation or filtering to protect her. The single window was broken and boarded so it wasn’t as if she could open it. 

Her stubbornness was unforgiving as she pushed through hours of work to get everything done, fueled by her excitement to turn the room into her own. 

The effects the smell had on her body didn’t hit her until the tail end of her painting as she finished the second and final coat of the remaining wall. 

(Y/n) practically threw the paint roller into the pan, taking a deep breath when her head began to spin. She was aware enough to mind the wet walls, but couldn’t stop herself from swaying. After a significant wave of disorientation, she leaned - or rather fell - back against the doorframe, her head thumping loudly against it in the process and only worsening her headache. 

With her eyes closed, her head spun as she heard the sound of rushed and heavy footsteps growing nearer, louder before they came to a halt beside her. She felt quick taps on her shoulder, light at first. 

No response. 

The next set nearly shoved her into the wall and her eyes sprung open, looking over at Art who had a panicked expression, his hands motioning around the both of them with haste. 

(Y/n)’s eyes began to close again as she waved him off weakly. “M’fine. Just dizzy.” She slurred and heard him stomp his foot. 

He suddenly bent down and picked her up bridal-style, taking her out of the room and outside to an old bench sat along the side of the building. He sat down and cradled her on his lap, albeit begrudgingly as he huffed and puffed to himself at the minor heart attack she caused him. 

As her head rested against him under his chin, she began to recover enough to know she would be fine to stand. But with equal mischief, she pretended she was still ill just to stay in his arms for a little while longer. 

The days following, Art was generous enough to help her bring in brand new furniture which they transported by a worker’s van - which he still hadn’t disclosed to her its origins - and the room was finally beginning to look decent. 

The process was interesting, to say the least, as far as putting the furniture together went. They both sat on the floor, Art eyeing the new tools that came with the pieces and picking them up in interest while (Y/n) read through the directions. 

What caught her off guard was how handy Art really was. 

After she had finished reading through the first bit, she began to look back and forth between the directions and the pieces in front of her to start the dreadful process. It wasn’t until she was halfway through putting the dresser together that she began to grow frustrated, sighing heavier than usual as she took off another piece that was incorrectly placed. 

Art looked over, sensing her frustration, and shooed her away from it. He took the tools from her and left to grab his own. When he returned, he sat where she had been and began to put everything together with ease while (Y/n)’s jaw dropped in both irritation and awe. 

No directions. No guidance. Just Art doing what Art did. 

Within fifteen minutes, the dresser was perfectly complete and he stood, presenting it to her with a large grin and flare of his hands while (Y/n) deadpanned. 

“You waited.” She accused grumpily and he proudly nodded. 

He then mockingly pouted at her and stepped his way over, squeezed at her cheeks and patted them before kissing her on the nose. 

“Okay, I forgive you.” She mumbled, unable to stay mad at his adorable mannerisms. 

With furniture complete, (Y/n) began to bring over some of her belongings and necessities. Clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, bed sets, a lamp and then some. He helped her without hesitation, mostly because he wanted to snoop around her house and bring back some of what he found for himself, but she accepted and appreciated the help nonetheless. 

After a week, the whole room had completely changed. She could now call it her personal safe space, her home away from home. 

“Art look, it’s finished!” She called to him from the doorway, looking into her room. He practically ran over to her with shared excitement, his face resembling shock. He clapped and jumped up and down, then blew a kiss into the room to compliment their work.

Art then turned to (Y/n) and kissed her cheek, baring a look of mischief before he ran into the room and jumped onto the bed. She crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look, but once he star-fished with childlike glee her face softened and she chuckled. 

The hideout was nearly their permanent place of residence once the room was finished. She would stop by her house once or twice a day to check her mail or take a shower to freshen up. Her actual house very well turned out to be her new home away from home, finding an odd sense of comfort in the decaying building knowing that it belonged to the clown she so loved. 

With how busy they had been with their little project, Art had built up a strong urge to wreak havoc. (Y/n) had her own urge, however significantly less violent. She would only ever be found guilty by association. 

Or so she thought.

Following the familiar itch, Art tinkered away at one of his new inventions when they could finally rest after the more chaotic week. (Y/n) sat with him, staring at the latest newspaper that had been delivered earlier that morning to her house. 

The usual sting rose in her abdomen as her eyes skimmed over the words of an article covering her work: disturbingly grotesque, lacking depth, pure shock value. 

Each phrase felt like a hammer striking her soul, chipping away at the confidence in her work while Art was left to pick up the pieces. Her fingers tightened around the edges of the paper, crumpling it slightly. Suddenly, in the back of her mind, something stirred. Something darker than frustration.

She realized that her initial reaction wasn’t just sadness. It was anger. Uncharacteristic of her individuality, it simmered, threatening to boil at any moment. 

She grew antsy with the unfamiliar feeling and stood up, crumpling the newspaper and snatching a match from the workbench. 

Art watched incredulously as she struck the match and lit the article ablaze, dropping it into a nearby steel bucket on the floor and letting it burn. 

Her exterior was eerily calm while her thoughts began to rage and cause turmoil. She looked over at Art who continued to stare and her eyebrow twitched in contained irritation. He simply lifted the new weapon off of his desk and showed it to her with a sadistic expression. 

Over time, (Y/n) began to notice how the fits of frustration became more common. What used to be a simmer had indeed grown into a boil and only became harder and harder to contain, though she did it well. It’s what made her dangerous, and what intrigued Art further. 

No matter what was going on through her head, she somehow always remained calm and collected. Time and time again other’s words and interactions with them made her seethe beneath her facade, yet nothing ever came out of it from her. 

She had always avoided conflict, either by completely disassociating from it or just letting Art handle it in his own way. What they didn’t know was what went through her head in those moments. 

For the past few months, she’d noticed a change. Subtle at first, but soon became impossible to ignore. As she stood silently in her anger, her mind thought up of ways to release that rage. Whether it was ramming a bat into a TV or slapping someone in the face, the images flooded her mind as an initial reaction. Almost as an impulse, coaxing her into giving in and finally acting on it. 

She wasn’t aware of it yet, but the line between her calm, introverted nature and the darkness lurking beneath had already begun to blur. And soon, she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference at all.

It was nighttime, as was routine for them, to go on their walk, which Art preferred to call their ‘hunt’. They decided to take a different route to town for a change of scenery, but (Y/n) would be lying if she said it wasn’t more eerie than their typical route. 

There wasn’t nearly as much lighting and the tall trees lining the smaller street casted foreboding shadows over them. But (Y/n) felt calm. Not only because it was an environment she was naturally attracted to, but also because of the figure walking alongside her. She could even go as far as to say she felt almost invincible with him. 

Just ahead of them, a darker figure seemed to have the same idea of having a walk. From the look of it, they grew closer, walking towards them. 

Art stopped in his tracks, staring at the man menacingly with wide eyes and a smile to match. 

The man felt a chill run down his spine at the sight, but decided to stupidly go against his better judgment as he took a sip from the beer bottle in his hand. 

“A little early to be dressing up for Halloween, don’t you think?” He laughed as he resumed his walking towards them. 

“How about you mind your business.” (Y/n) bit back. Art’s head snapped over to look at her with an expression of shock, hand over his mouth as she casually put her hands in her pockets. 

“You’re a snappy one! I like that.” He slurred with a drunken wink and her mouth curled in disgust. Art looked between the two of them with a mischievous grin. 

“Then you’ll love it when I smash that bottle over your head if you don’t keep walking.” 

“He might,” The man pointed at Art. “But I don’t think you will, sweetheart.” 

In the blink of an eye, the bottle was snatched from his hand and broke over his head just as she warned. 

Art bent over in laughter after his initial surprise wore off, pointing at the man now collapsed on the ground and mocking him by pretending to cry, hands twisting by his eyes. 

“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart’.” (Y/n) spoke flatly as she shook off the beer that spilled onto her hand from the bottle. “Do you have a rag in your bag, Art?” She asked the clown in a softer tone. 

He turned back to her and held up a finger for her to wait while his laughter continued, digging through his bag until he eventually pulled out a rag, albeit a bit dirty, but it would suffice. As (Y/n) dried off her hand, he pulled something else out and she turned away, the man screaming behind her not long after. 

She wasn’t sure what came over her at that moment, and Art wasn’t exactly a good influence. She had made one or two threats in the past couple of months when her intrusive thoughts started to get worse, but never had she acted on them. 

The most unusual part wasn’t that she carried them out, though. It was that she remained frighteningly calm before, during and after. As if it was second nature to her. 

An hour before the sun was set to rise, they made it back to what they called home. Art remained his bloody self, heading to their work  area while (Y/n) wandered into her room without a word, her demeanor just a shell of who she was as she thought of the night’s events. 

She took the camera off from around her neck and set it on her nightstand, sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at the rug below her. 

She wasn’t sure how long it had been before Art showed up and paused in the doorway. His smile dropped ever so slightly, leaving his eyes as his brow furrowed with concern. He walked over to where she sat and began to reach a hand out, hesitated, then touched her shoulder and quickly pulled away as if she had burned him. 

Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his gaze and using a finger, he motioned up and down at her figure in question. With no response, she only looked back down and he was aghast, flinching back with wide eyes. 

Art quickly looked around in a panic, fingers twitching with an unfamiliar urge and then quickly took a seat beside her. At first, his fingertips caressed her back. Then his arm reached around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, rocking the two of them soothingly. 

After a few minutes, he felt (Y/n)’s arms slowly wrap around his torso, leaning into him as her head nuzzled into his chest. 

“I don’t know what happened…” She mumbled in what sounded like disappointment. “It just came out of nowhere, hardly even any provocation.”

Art tapped at her back and she watched as he stood up in front of her. He mimicked exaggerated anger and pointed at (Y/n), then flared his hands at the empty space beside him, an imaginary person. He pointed at her again and gave her two ‘ok’ symbols, telling her that it was okay and that she did a good job. 

“You don’t think I overreacted, do you…?” Art started to feel relieved when he noticed her usual, gentler side with him begin to show again. 

He aggressively shook his head, slicing his arms over each other to give a firm ‘no’ and (Y/n) sighed.

“I’ve just been becoming more angered with things that used to only cause me pain. Those urges have been in my head more frequently recently and that was the first time I’ve ever acted on it. I feel conflicted after, but in the moment it just felt right .” 

She looked up at Art with pleading eyes, but his smile remained and he lifted his hands to grab her cheeks. He pulled away and balled up his fists, gritting his teeth in feigned anger and motioning to what was around him with a sigh of relief. 

“If I hold it in, will it just get worse?” (Y/n) asked genuinely. 

He nodded his head and pointed at her. She looked off in contemplation as Art eagerly waited, fingers tapping against each other. 

“I guess I could try and see how it goes.” Art clapped and shuffled closer to her, taking her head and leaning into it to kiss the top of it, then patted where he kissed. 

Over the next few weeks, she decided to stick to her word and let the now impulsive thoughts take over. She hesitated at first, but Art nudged her inconspicuously from beside her when he noticed and prompted her to follow through. 

Depending on how much the person had angered her and what was nearby for use, it ranged from ramming their head into a wall to simply kicking them in the groin. But she never went further as that was Art’s part of the fun, and she never wanted to deprive him of such joy. 

It still felt strange at first, to say the least. But the more she gave in, the less she thought about it and just did it . The strange feeling turned into relief, the relief turned into satisfaction, and the satisfaction turned into pure pleasure . 

In doing so, (Y/n) gained a certain level of understanding as to why Art loved what he did. She would never torture as he did, if at all. And she still refused to watch. 

As she embraced the new aspect of herself,  they formed a newfound respect for each other. More than what they had before, which they never believed could be greater than what it was. 

Tag list: @callsignwidow @hoe-for-daddywise

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bestie your slut is immaculate 🤌🏻. Would you maybe be able to write a makeup sex scenario with Steve???? I’d give everything for that

18+

Honestly, you couldn’t remember what you and Steve had been arguing about. You don’t recall how it had started, or how it had even ended, just that you were pouting in the kitchen whilst the boy was stomping about upstairs.

You think it had been something to do with his late shifts, your early mornings, ships passing in the night, gone before he woke up, asleep before he got home. You’d missed him. He’d missed you. But communicating that got lost in the stress of a burnt dinner and a laundry load of whites that got mixed in with one of Steve’s green socks and suddenly everything was turquoise, smoke filled the kitchen and you were both yelling.

It ended abruptly, sharply and with a slammed door. You weren’t sure who’d done it, but maybe, you thought with a scrunch of your nose, it had been you. Guilt ate at your stomach, turned over in your tummy like acid and suddenly you missed Steve more than ever. You hadn’t even gotten a kiss hello from him before the argument erupted.

So you trailed up the stairs, stepping lightly so you could hear the soft grumbles from behind the closed bedroom door, and when you opened it, you softened completely. Steve was folding laundry on the bed, as neatly as he could, brow furrowed and cheeks still flushed.

His eyes snapped to you, that knot between his brows soothing away when he saw the downturn of your lips, the glassy sheen to your eyes. Still, he sighed, tired. “Babe, I don’t wanna fight, alright? Can we talk about it in the morning?”

It wasn’t unkind, the way he said it, just frustrated, calm enough to understand that yelling wasn’t going to help this time. You nodded, walking into the room so you could perch yourself on the desk that served as half of your vanity, half of Steve’s workspace. You toed off your fluffy socks, the ones with mini cows printed on them.

Steve was watching you, a little confused, a little on edge.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you told him. “Not now, not in the morning.”

The boy raised his brows, waiting for the hook, like this was a trick. “We don’t?” He murmured, voice full of doubt.

You shook your head, hands grabbing the hem of your shirt, throwing it to the floor. Your pyjama shorts left little to the imagination.

Steve’s gaze darkened, pupils blown wide at all the bare skin, lips parting and you heard the quiet sigh that left his mouth, the hitch in his breath that never got old.

“No,” you agreed, voice soft. “We can just fuck instead, yeah?”

He was on you without missing a second, zero hesitation as he abandoned his stack of folded shirts and pushed himself between your legs. Steve kissed you without any warm up, his lips a familiar press against your own and you’d shared enough kisses with the boy to know how this worked. You sighed, overwhelmingly happy to feel him against you and you parted your lips for him without a second thought.

Tongues pressing over tongues, teeth clashing, hot and needy and desperate. There was no warm up, none required after your argument left you both tinged with longing and guilt, just enough leftover frustration for you to grab a little meanly at the other. Your hands fisted Steve’s hair, earning you a rough groan that you swallowed and kept for yourself.

Steve’s palms roamed your body, never settled enough, always seeking more, grabbing at your waist, your tits, pulling you closer by your hips before cradling your jaw, titling you the way he wanted so he could kiss you deeper still. And then, his fingers coasted down, skimming across the curve of your stomach, all warm skin and calloused touches, pulling at the waistband of your shorts until he could swipe through your folds and grunt at how wet you were.

“How’d you want me?” Steve panted it into your mouth, a kiss that wasn’t a kiss, lips barely moving but not daring to part.

“Like this,” you told him, just a breathy, just as desperate. “Now, baby, need you now.”

You curled your legs around his hips, thighs gripping him, heels pressed to his ass to encourage him closer. He moaned at your impatience, grabbing the collar of his t-shirt so he could rip it off and launch it at the clean pile on the bed. Together, you made quick work of his belt, buttons popping, leather snapping, denim pushed down just enough to free his hard cock from his boxers, red and leaking at the tip for you. It made you whine, hand grabbing at the length of it while Steve pumped one, then two fingers into you. They hooked into the spot you loved real quick, running little circles and making you gasp out, pulling at the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck.

“Fuck, honey,” Steve groaned, mouthing over your throat, teeth nipping, wanting you left lilac and rose for him, all marked up as his own. “Spread your legs for me, c’mere baby…”

He slid into you like that, faster than he normally would, pausing when he was fully seated inside of you to let you adjust and catch your breath. Your forehead was against his, his chin ducked down to meet you, lips swollen and red from your kisses, cheeks the same pretty colour.

“Fuck, Steve, please.”

A snap of his hips, a little mean, all pent up frustration and too many nights of missing you. Another, harder still, deeper than before, his hands hooked under your thighs to keep you open for him. He kissed you sweet though, smiling into it when you nudged your nose against his own and whined, seeking out his mouth, pouting, needy, already fucking putty for him.

“M’sorry, baby, my sweet girl,” he murmured. “So good for me, aren’t you? Fuck, don’t wanna fight, I’m sorry—”

You tried to say sorry back, you really did. But Steve found it more amusing to fuck you into the wall, grinning each time your apology got stuck in your throat and high mewl came out intead. And that was okay, he could tell by your glassy eyes and the way you clung to him that you were sorry too. And if you had to wake him up in the morning to apologise again?

Well, that was okay too.

…

[crimsonbubble]

female!reader and male!shadow both have to be the barracks bunny for a night/week because they lost a bet against the other shadows (sorry im just a bisexual whore)

and graves is just sitting there with a glass of wine and a cigarette hanging from his lips, waiting for his boys to have their little fun so he can have them both alone by the end of the night (after all he’s their commander and they have to serve him🤌🏻)

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, barracks bunny!reader & shadow, breeding kink, cum play, implied anal sex, nipple play, clit slapping, overstimulation, handjobs *not proofread, just pure horny

[this made me unbelievably horny] @smmy-winchster @waltzthegenderfluidpan

MINORS DNI!!

this is one bet that you don't mind losing

you and another shadow being manhandled and dragged to their commander's quarters

getting groped, fondled, and stripped as you went

getting tossed on the bed, surrounded by your impending doom

graves simply watching from the sidelines as the shadows have their fun

manhandling you and the shadow into positions that will leave your body sore

eating you out so greedily, it makes you see stars

getting positioned on your side so you and the shadow are face-to-face

letting each other see how easily you dwell and drown in the pleasure

grabbing so needily at each other as you get pounded

stroking the shadows cock, while the shadow plays with your clit

clenching and tightening around the cock shoved deep in your cunt

feeling cum fill you up, leaking out of you as you were moved to the liking of the other shadows

getting turned onto your back, so the next shadow can grab your hips and bury their cock in as deep as your body would allow

the shadow beside you getting shoved onto his stomach, his hips propped up before he's getting filled again

holding hands with him as you're both fucked through another orgasm

another shadow collecting the seed that's spilling out of you to use as lube to rub over your twitchy clit

two of the shadows are mean; one of them is pinching and twisting your nipple and the other is landing harsh slaps on your throbbing clit :((

you can only take what's given to you, holding onto the shadow hand even tighter

moving his hand up to press it to your chest, letting him squeeze your boobs as he gets his prostate abused and his cock milked

once the shadows were done, you were left with the other shadow and your commander

it didn’t take long before you could feel graves' hand knead the fat of your hips

he drags you down the bed, getting the shadow to lie on his back

graves all but manhandled you to straddle the shadow, pressing your sore and leaky cunt against his cock

graves kneels behind you, his cock pushing into the shadow below you

the shadow grabbed your hips tightly, bucking his hips up into you, his tip bumping into your clit

with a quick repositioning, you could slip him into you, bouncing and shifting your hips over his

the sensations were too much yet not enough

spearing yourself down on his cock as another orgasm raced through you

graves quickly pulled out, pulling you off as well

both he and the shadow covered your cunt in their thick seed

grinding into you with such desperation as they rode out their releases

[judysxnd]

Can you write another sexy time with pedro? The last one was so good 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Oh yes I can and f* yes I will (got way too confident here, I’m not sure I like what I wrote)

I’m getting more and more excited and comfortable writing those!! I’m so proud of myself 😋 anywayyyy

I'm still struggling on the sex talk, like during the moment, I never really know what to write, but enjoy 😅

warnings: morning sex, just smut

Minors DNI

——————————————————————————

You were breathing heavily. You were burning. You opened your eyes, it was dark, you couldn't see a thing. Your heartbeats were fast and you couldn't calm down. The images in your head were haunting you, making you bite your lips. You turned towards your nightstand, grabbing your phone. 10:16am. Good. It means you can wake Pedro, because you were sure to relive that dream. You didn't need to dream to have mind-blowing sex with Pedro, but it just happens. It was a simple dream though, it wasn't anything like a porn movie, or something that could not happen just like that.

You were both in bed, it was either before sleeping or in the morning, you could not really remember (and it wasn't the part you really focused on). But it was a position you haven't done yet. As simple as it may seems, it was just the reverse cowgirl. Pedro suggested it one time (he is an ass guy) but you weren't really up for it. You're not really a top girl, your legs don't last long, and also, you would not see him. You didn't think it would really be your best time, at least for you. So it didn’t go further.

If you didn't want to do it before, oh now you definitely want to. You made up your mind. Apparently it hits the right spot. It may only be in the dream, but you're confident enough that it will feel the same, even better in real life. Pedro knows what he is doing, trust me.

So there you are, laying on your side, looking at Pedro sleeping peacefully. He was on his back, mouth slightly open, one arm above his head, the other on his stomach. He was only in his boxers, as you were only in you panties, consequences of last night actions. You might seem insatiable, but, well, yes you are. He is too good. You put your right hand on his chest, making circular movements all over it. Pedro moved a little, but did not wake up. You got a little bit closer to him, starting to kiss his shoulder, his arm, than his chest, and even got to his stomach.

"what are you doing" you heard him say with a very low voice that sent you directly to the edge.

"I am on a mission" he chuckled

"what's your mission?" his right arm was caressing your back. You got back up, leaving kisses here and there.

"getting you up"

"I am up now"

"are you?" you looked at him, he frowned, not really understanding. But when he looked at you, he immediately got it. You progressively smiled, biting your lips.

"I am" you kissed him

"good" you whispered against his lips. You sat on him, feeling his cock getting hard. His hands dropped on your waist.

"what turned you on like that?" you shrugged. He stared at you a bit longer. "oh I see"

"what?"

"You had a wet dream?" you couldn't help but smile "Was it with me?"

"of course it was"

"tell me about it"

"I would rather doing it instead" Pedro raised an eyebrow

"Can't say no to that" you chuckled

"Do you remember like a month ago when you wanted to try a new position?" He thought for a minute, then he looked at you, remembering

"I thought you didn't want to?"

"Yeah but we did it in my dreams and-" you took a deep breath "it was go-od" Pedro laughed. He moved his right hand to your panties, feeling you.

"I bet it was, seeing how wet you are" you looked at him with excitement. "you sure you want to do it?"

"yes" you immediately answered

"then turn around cariño" while you moved Pedro grabbed a condom. You actually got up, taking your panties off. Pedro did the same with his boxers, throwing them somewhere. You sat on the bed as he put the condom on. You slowly crawled over him, kissing him passionately before turning around. You didn't really sit on him yet. Pedro was holding his dick and was teasing you a bit, moving it against your clitoris.

"Pedro please" you said getting impatient. A hand on your waist, the other still around his cock, he slowly entered you, but you decided to go a little bit faster as you completely sat down on him.

"impaciente" Pedro said after. He put his hands on your ankles, pulling you a bit closer. It made you gasp, because you felt his cock touch the perfect spot. Oh it's going to be amazing.

You slowly started to slide up and down, as his hands were grabbing your ass. You kept going slow at first, adjusting a bit, and not wanting to have an orgasm right away, because you already felt a knot in your stomach. But Pedro had something else in mind. When you were up, he also got up.

"Pedro" you moaned at the unexpected movement. He let you move again, as you were going faster. His hands were either on your waist or ass as it was bouncing along your movements. You were both moaning in unison, feeling the heat rising, the orgasms coming.

"Does it feel good?" Pedro asked as you were moving faster.

"y-yes" you managed to say

"Better than your dream?" Such a tease. But you couldn't speak. That's how good it was. "I can't hear you sweetheart" he added

"YES" you screamed. Pedro groaned in return. He loved the view, your ass bouncing on him, his cock deep inside you, making him feel very very good. "Pedro, I-I" you couldn't even speak. The position was making him touch the perfect spot, making you feel so many things at the same time.

"yeah, me too" and in matters of seconds, the moans got higher for the both of you as you climaxed together.

You finally stopped moving, feeling your legs shaking. You were both breathing heavily.

"shit" you said "a thousand better than the dream"

"you know why I suggested it"

"hell yeah" you hair was sticking on your back because of how much you sweated. You put your hands on the mattress, helping you sitting still. Pedro slapped your ass, making it bounce a little. You tried to get up, but you couldn’t really move. Your legs were stuck. “I don’t think I can get up” you admitted. Pedro helped you get up as you were groaning a bit because of the pain in your legs. You finally laid next to him.

“I do love being awaken like that”

“Don’t get used to it”

“I think I should” he joked, looking at you.

“It can go both ways you know” you teased

“Noted” you both smiled, then you hovered over him and kissed him passionately, before resting your head on his chest.

[forestdeath1]

"And it’s funny that outside of family relationships, these two people are only two people Sirius got truly close to "

It doesn't really seem to me that James and Remus were Sirius's closest people. James, yes, but not Remus.

It seems like Peter was actually closer to them all during the war than Remus. Lily doesn't mention Remus in her letter, in the Order of the Phoenix photo he stands apart from everyone else, Sirius didn’t trust him, etc etc

There's no evidence to suggest that Remus was close to Sirius emotionally, beyond just being part of their childhood friendship as Marauders — which started to fall apart during the war. It seems Peter was closer, as much as I dislike this character, but that's the way it is. Not exactly close, but closer. And Remus was even more emotionally distanced from Sirius. But he was a little closer to James.

I’m talking about Sirius's emotional openness. I think Sirius opened up to Peter a bit more than he did to Remus.

Although Sirius respected Remus more than Peter. I mean he truly respected him. That's one of the reasons he suspected him. But Peter… You know that feeling when someone seems pathetic to you and you can’t respect them, but because of this, you start to feel a bit of pity? Especially if the person hasn’t done anything bad to you and tries to befriend you. Peter was so nice to all of them 🤌🏻😘 So I can quite see how Sirius might have worried about Peter or cared for him to some extent.

[gatitties]

Hey there, weird request but could you do maybe like I usually goth and quiet reader who seems like they'd hate white girl music, gets drunk, and starts Screaming/singing "call me maybe", and professes their love for Taylor Swift? Just a silly request from a silly delulu girl😍😋thanks babes👍

─Strawhats, Kid Pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x reader

─Summary: You swear you hate white girl music and yet it only takes a little alcohol for you to know all the songs you swore you hated.

─Warnings: none

nahh it's okay, here we're all delulu (me too 😔🤌🏻)

─ You spend a large part of the day listening to music, either in private or at a respectable volume in meetings so as not to disturb.

─ Everyone knows your tastes and how much you complain about music, especially if it's white girl music, they will never hear you listening to that kind of stuff.

─ You argue a lot with Brook about songs and sometimes Franky joins in, since they are both the ones who precede you in your obsession with listening to music at all hours.

─ Now, your sober and drunk side are different people, or at least, concepts of your personality that others should forget, we are not going to review all the embarrassing things you have done while drunk.

─ But something that they remind you constantly like breathing was that time you had too many drinks that your body couldn't handle.

─ It was in a bar while you were celebrating having liberated another island from some random tyrant, the atmosphere was great and you loved the music that accompanied it, but the moment you crossed that line, between sobriety and drunkenness, that's when you lost it.

─ You went crazy when “call me maybe” started playing, shouting at the top of your lungs, some of your comrades looked at you suspiciously, Luffy just followed you while Brook thought you were an imposter.

─ Robin had to take you to the boat that night while you ranted about your favorite artists, being the complete opposite of what you used to listen to on a daily basis, she wasn't the only one, because Nami ended up learning Taylor Swift's entire discography.

─ They asked Chopper for something to put you to sleep because you couldn't stop humming songs even with your eyes closed.

─ Nobody, absolutely nobody except Heat, listened to that kind of music.

─ You expressed countless times your most sincere hatred towards white girl music, throwing hate at the main artists or songs in particular, everyone at Victoria Punk knew about your dislike towards the genre.

─ Maybe the only one who caught you listening to those songs was Wire, but you threatened to cut out his tongue if he said a single word about this.

─ Although it wasn't necessary, when in one of the many celebrations for defeating any strong opponent, you got drunk, putting aside your hatred and embracing your tastes closely that night.

─ Kid almost choked on his beer when he saw how both you and Heat started a dance battle that ended with both of you singing “Last Friday Night.”

─ Taking advantage of the fact that the next morning you would regret it, he recorded everything to show you, making fun of you was always fun for your captain, especially if it was his revenge for recording him canoodling with Killer at the previous party.

─ Even when most of the crew got tired or fainted from exhaustion, you continued giving your concert.

─ Killer had to drag you back to your bed after you vomited a couple of times on the way, listening to how you would describe fun facts from the album "1989", he patted you on the back and left you, hoping you wouldn't throw up again.

─ The next day you chased Kid all over the ship to erase that singing video from existence.

─ Only Thatch knew about your guilty taste for that type of music, he was also a secret fan, since no one used to enter the kitchen apart from him and a couple of other people, you took advantage of that time to do private concerts.

─ The problem was that Ace discovered you while he was trying to steal food, and sometimes he has just enough neurons.

─ Probably not all the crew knew your musical tastes, but most definitely knew what kind of music you didn't like, because you were always complaining if any of those songs came on the radio.

─ Oh, everyone missed how you enjoyed the songs, moving your lips singing in silence.

─ The fact is that Ace, in one of his brilliant ideas, took you on stage in the middle of a party, although it wasn't something that caught everyone's attention, it definitely caught the attention of your closest people.

─ Not only were you drunk, but you also started singing “Don't let me down” with Thatch with everything you had, Ace joined in, slurring the lyrics but following the rhythm.

─ Izo knew it was time to get you off the stage when you started to wobble more than necessary, you hugged him to keep from falling, listing each of Taylor Swift's albums and each favorite song from her respective album.

─ The next morning you had completely forgotten what happened that night, more concerned with receiving Marco's hangover pills, he made fun of you for your performance but since you didn't remember it you just told him he dreamed it or something.

─ It was Whitebeard who made you remember what you had done that night, completely embarrassed not by singing those songs, but by the drunkenness you had gotten, you are glad to have such an understanding father right now.

[hotchfiles]

whole fic was chef’s kiss but that arguing part?? 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

there’s something wrong with me bc i’m currently thinking about what if reader slapped him and then she flinched bc she thought he was gonna slap her..ofc then he goes profiler mode and figures you were either in abusive relationship and/or had abusing father

i'm actually so happy for the comments on the arguing part! i'm an angsty bitch thru n thru so i love writing arguments! this inspired me to write a lil blurb! sort of an au / different ending, so here ya go!

it was an automatic reaction, something the years with your father and then your ex taught you:

violence.

you worked hard to keep those instincts at bay, to not be this person, to remind yourself of what the years of therapy taught you. but having aaron say purposefully hurtful things to you triggered the worst part of you, your hand going straight to his cheek in a smack.

as soon as you heard the sharp sound of your hand against his face you flinched, gluing your hands on your chest and turning your own face around, ready for the payback to come.

it didn't.

instead, you were met with arms around you, strong and tight, it makes you cry, "i'm sorry i made you feel like this." his soft low voice makes your tears get bigger, your sobs louder.

it's heartwarming and dangerous how he just knows things. how he seems to be sure that you did mean to hurt him, but that it was a part of you that you wanted gone.

you nod into his shirt, tears leaving wet spots on it, "i shouldn't have done that, aaron, i'm sorry, i... i really am."

"it wasn't fun for me, but i would never hurt you, okay? no matter what you do." the reassurance gives you a mix of feelings, you're glad he understands but the guilt of leaving his cheek so red is still there, gnawing at your heart. "honey?" you just nod, not moving away from the comfort of his chest, "don't kick me out and we can just forget this whole thing." he's half joking but it makes you laugh, quietly so, but still, and he's oh, so happy to hear it.

"fine, you get away with it this one time." it's his time to nod, a smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.

"just this once."

[chris-prank]

My BBG WIFE SPOUSE BABY Dr. Seraph Fanart is done ^^

Hope I did him justice uwu

(Nvm the fact that I dont actually know what hazel color is bc english is not my main language and got confused so if the eye color is wrong sorry)

...

Also I sent a headcannon that appeared while sketching his ass to you in a drawing, lemme know how far I was or close... even tho I feel in my heart im correct

I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT! OH MY GOD!

I'm literally screaming, twirling my hair and kicking my feet like a schoolgirl right now.

And all the little details!!!! The embroidery of his initials on the little bag! The little skull and kiss on the letters! The background looking like cells in a microscope! AAAAAAAH ITS PERFECTION

Thank you so much again for this masterpiece!

(Don’t worry about the eye color, what you did is flawless 🤌🏻❤️)

And you were in fact correct about your headcanon 😏

[slasher-dasher]

Hey Aster 😊

I love the way you write about the slashers 🤌🏻 My favourite one is the RZ! Micheal Myers ones 💓

Can I please request a Brahms heelshire SFW and NSFW shot? If possible ♥️

I really love that wall man 😫

I ALSO REALLY LOVE THAT WALL MAN!!! He and rz!Myers have a chokehold on my mind rn

Brahms Heelshire Oneshots

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

(gn!reader for both, NSFW w/tags below the line :> )

Priorities (SFW)

Brahms’ chest rose and fell with each gentle breath, small snores slipping out as he slept. His curled-up form covering only a tiny portion of the queen-sized bed, one that he hadn’t slept in in years. It was nice. It was warm. It was… comfortable. He missed this bed, this room. All those years merely being a witness to the room that he once grew up in, and he was finally able to enjoy the space again. An arm shifting around him caught his attention, a soft smile forming over his lips at the sleeping figure on the other side of the bed. His most recent nanny lay in the space, one arm lazily thrown across his waist while their face was buried in the pillow. This one hadn’t thought taking care of the doll was a joke at first, much like all the others did. No, they cared for him as if they were made to, and in a way, they were. Brahms traced his fingers over the curves of their face, being careful not to wake the sleeping form. The way a soft blush bloomed across the cheeks almost instantly always made him giggle, and he loved the curve of the jaw and how it contrasted so beautifully with the neck. An alarm went off in a spare bedroom, startling him so much that he jumped, pulling back as if he had done something wrong. It was 7 am. The eyes of the figure next to him slowly fluttered open, hand moving from his waist to bury itself in his hair, fingers toying with the curls and nails scratching at his scalp.

“You ready to get up love?” 

“Can we stay here a bit longer?” His voice was pleading, almost sure you would say yes without him having to do much. Brahms rested his arm over your waist, letting his hand trace shapes into the small of your back.

“No Brahms, we have to follow the rules, remember? This’ll mess up your sleep schedule if we don’t get up sweetheart. And I have to turn off that alarm,” even though the voice was light, it still carried a sense of authority.

“Pleeeeeeeeease?” He pouted behind his mask, eyes shining brightly like a kid on Christmas day. He knows you can’t say no to him when he looks at you with those eyes.

“Hmm, maybe just once-” You had barely finished speaking before he buried his porcelain face into your chest, a happy hum spilling out of Brahms’s throat as he got comfortable in your arms again. The cold material made you gasp for a moment, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. Your bodies curled around each other, heavy sheets protecting you from the ever-present chill in the Heelshire mansion.

“I love you~” A kiss was pressed to your neck, gentle as the porcelain lips it came from before Brahms closed his eyes again, body relaxing in your hold while he cuddled closer to you, if such a thing were possible.

“I love you too~” The alarm would go off by itself in a few minutes. You have something more important to take care of right now.

Keep Quiet (NSFW)

(tags: dom!reader, bratty Brahms, sub!Brahms, praise, oral (reader receiving), slight ownership if you squint)

You had almost gotten through the day before Brahms had started to act up. Though, it wasn’t as if you could fully blame him this time. Malcolm had been late delivering the groceries, which meant that dinner was pushed back until he was able to get what you (well… Brahms) had asked for this week. You had tried offering him snacks, sweets, sandwiches, just anything that would hold him over until you could manage to make dinner. He refused everything, shoving it away from him like it was poisoned, arms crossed with a loud huff as he turned his head away from you. You sighed, leaving the room for a brief moment to collect yourself, but it was long enough for Brahms to wonder if you were going to come back. He knew you would. You always do… right?

“Are you going to sit here and pout all day now? You were being so good earlier,” your voice made him jump, unaware that you had walked through the other door of the dining room. For as long as he had lived in this house, he still hadn’t gotten used to the layout from outside the walls. Just as he was going to speak, the sound of the doorbell echoed down the long halls of the estate. You sighed in relief, going to retrieve the groceries with Brahms right on your heels before setting everything up in the kitchen. The smell of spices and the sound of meat sizzling along with a boiling pot of noodles quickly filled the space, while Brahms took his usual place on the counter. He was a great taste tester, and you thought the second you started cooking he would slip right back into his role. How wrong you were. Right now he was still in “brat mode” as you liked to call it, refusing to even look at you unless he wanted to get under your skin. If ignored, he would complain louder. If acknowledged, he would fuss. A few harsh glances in his direction would keep him quiet for a short while, but once he was done squirming he would start up again.

“How much longeeeer,” he whined, voice breaking from the high-pitched one from earlier into his more natural, no, more needy voice. Suddenly, you had an idea. It would keep him busy, and give you time to cook without being interrupted. You snapped your fingers, watching his eyes lock onto them for direction. Good. He was still obedient like this. You motion toward the tile in front of you, silently instructing him to take his place there. Brahms hesitated for a moment, but slipped off of the counter with a grace someone like him shouldn’t have. He took his place on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs and eyes locked on you, barely wet with tears that threatened to spill behind his mask. Poor boy thought he was in trouble, and in a way, he was. You voice was smooth as you spoke, fingers curling around the edge of the porcelain mask, lifting it off of his face and onto the now empty counter. He whimpered, lip pushed out in a pout until your hand found its way into his curls.

“Keep your mouth busy while I cook, hm? Think you can do that pretty boy?” You toyed with his hair, making his breath hitch as he hummed and nodded, hands quickly working to get your pants off. This was the Brahms you knew, the one looking up at you with hazy eyes as he took you into his mouth, not wasting a second to send waves of pleasure through your body as he pressed his tongue to you. Your hips kept his head flush against the oven door, his hands gripping your thighs so tight you’re sure they’d be bruised. This would be a test for both of you. On his end, how long he could resist before begging you to abandon the food on the stove. To just grip his hair and use his mouth until you were satisfied. He would let you, of course. He was yours, after all. On your end, how long you could pretend he wasn’t there. Pretend that all of his desperate mewls weren’t distracting you from your task or the way his lips curled around you like you were carved from the same body. Ultimately, you knew you would relent first. Taking care of Brahms was always your first priority, so with a swift click of the burner turning off, you let yourself melt into him. He shifted under you, hips grinding against your shoe, desperate for any kind of release. Soon, you both reached your breaking point, his moans sending shocks through your body as you twitched into his mouth, and your grip on his hair sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head. When you finally let go, dropping to your knees to join him in the mess you had both made, pressing your foreheads together as your breaths mixed in the small space you had created.

“Was I good?” His voice was broken from use, eyes glazed over from the pleasure of serving you, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders now as he steadied himself.

“Of course you were~” You pressed gentle kisses onto his face, tracing his jaw with your lips and his waist with your fingers while you both came down from your highs. Dinner would be saved for tomorrow. Or, at least until you both could stand.