#AND there's the other angle of that before they do see each other again..

[snoopychris]

praying

warnings: kind of pervy nerd!matt

matt was praying to all the gods in the heavens above that nobody showed up to his house right now. if anybody did, his execution would probably be a live event. he would have to do far more than switch schools. no, if anybody caught him, right now he would never be able to show his face again. his grip on his phone was almost as tight as the grip on his cock. almost. his breath was beginning to get heavier and heavier with each stroke of his hand, the precum leaking from his tip gathering more and more. 

it wasnt his fault. he didnt mean to get himself in this position. but the way you looked in your new post… the lights shining all you from all angles… the way that your uniform hugged all of your curves and left so much yet so little up to imagination. he got hard within seconds upon seeing it. seconds led to minutes and if it were a video, you would have a thousand views by now. he just couldnt stop looking at you. he wishes that it were your hand around him instead of him, inching him closer and closer to the release he was so desperately close to.

when he finally slid to the next slide of your post while his hand was moving faster, he let out a moan at the sight. a picture of you in your practice uniform– one much smaller than your game day uniform, it was practically a swimsuit with extra support. matt wasnt complaining one bit. he knew that whoever he had been praying to had listened, because the squeak of the front door wasnt heard until matt had already came all over his phone, the picture of you still bright on the screen as he began to clean up and act like nothing had ever happened. 

a/n: this is a prologue to lots of other stuff in the nerd mattiverse (think headcanon era before they were even together.) also this is rorys late bday gift everybody say happy birthday @cvnntagious

tags: @submattenthusiast @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @user1smvtysturniolo @chrislova @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @throatgoat4u @13hoax @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @jetaimevous @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo

[vampzity]

you’re mine | Y.JN

★ DAY EIGHT: MARKING WITH JEONGIN ★

pairing: bf! jeongin x f! reader

while getting ready to go out for his birthday, jeongin can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. all day his mind filled with dirty thoughts of you— the way you looked in his clothing, how your hips moved when you walked. he wanted to tear you apart, make sure that everyone knew you belonged to him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, hickeys, biting, possession, pet names (baby, bunny, whore, angel), praising?? degrading??, fingering, a bit of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), innie gets a little jealous

word count: 2k

Jeongin sat in the kitchen, watching as you paced back and forth while getting ready. He was already done, but he always told you to take your time since he didn’t mind the wait. He understood that sometimes girls just took a little longer and was okay with that.

You made repeated trips to the kitchen, asking him what looked best on you and what outfits might’ve clashed with his own. To him, you were a bit of a perfectionist— as you always make sure to keep everything in line. Jeongin didn’t mind, in fact he loved watching how each outfit looked on you, how perfect the fabric hugged the natural curves on your body.

He didn’t care what you wore outside, as he always made it clear to everyone that you were off the market. Though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him jealous the way you caught others attention.

“Innie are you even listening to me?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, meeting your pouted eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes dropped to your outfit, noticing how your black body con dress hugged your waist tightly. It ended at your mid thighs, and you tied it together with one of his dark blue jean jackets to give more of a baggy look.

“Should I wear the stockings that have the fleece on the inside, so I don’t get cold? With my black boots?”

You did a swift 360 turn for him, catching his attention at just exactly how short your dress was. A pit of jealously filled his stomach, knowing that any guy who was near you could find arousal in your dress.

“Go change.” he ordered, his tone of voice suddenly cold.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at your outfit before meeting his gaze again. You tilted your head at him, crossing your arms in resistance.

“Why? You never had a problem with me wearing anything like this before.”

“Well I do now. Take it off.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back to the room. Jeongin followed behind you, closing the door behind him as he watched you grab your boots from the closet.

“Well I don’t care. I’m your girlfriend, men aren’t gonna bother me if I’m around you. I don’t know why you’re suddenly being so negative.”

Jeongin grabbed onto your arm, pulling you back to his body. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your face flushed red as his breath hit the side of your neck, his slight bulge pressing against the back of your ass.

“You’re mine. No one else should be seeing your body but me.”

He kissed your neck softly, his warm lips giving you comfort as they made you hotter than you already were.

“But since you want to dress like an attention seeker,” his lips latched onto your skin, sucking against it softly until it turned a soft red color.

“I’ll make sure they know you’re mine.”

You moaned in response, a small tickle dancing up your nerves. He bit the area he left a red mark, small teeth marks appearing onto your skin. You threw your head back against him, letting him undo the buttons to the jean jacket. He pulled the jacket off of you, throwing it aside onto the bed as his kisses slowly worked down to your shoulder.

Jeongin turned your body slightly, angling it enough so that you could watch him in the body mirror. His lustful eyes met your own, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“You’re so pretty angel. I just want to sink my teeth into you.”

His kisses remained soft, with the occasional bite here and there that would make you wince in slight pain. He kissed the top of your back, sucking against the skin softly until the color turned into a light reddish purple.

“Such delicate skin. It’s a shame I have to ruin it with these bruises.”

Jeongin snaked his hands underneath your dress, expecting a pair of shorts only to be met with your smaller hipster panties. He gasped quietly, slipping his fingers in between your folds.

“Wow no shorts either? Who else grabbed your attention that isn’t me?” You let out breath of relief, melting under his touch as his pads worked your clit.

Your hand wrapped around his arm, small moans and gasps escaping you as he rubbed your clit slowly. He continued to bite at the skin on your shoulder blades, leaving as many possible bite marks that he could. His lips latched onto your skin, most hickeys smaller or a darker shade than others.

“You want me to keep going baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as he played with your sensitive bud. He pressed down against it, creating more pressure as his fingers twirled in circles. A loud groan escaped you, legs shaking as he sped up his pace just a bit. He watched you in the mirror as your head rested on his chest, eyes closed as you felt your stomach churn in pleasure.

Jeongin left a trail of kisses down your shoulder, stopping to place a dark red hickey on the side of your shoulder. His finger slipped in between your folds, teasing your aching hole as the friction against your clit heightened. With every move you made, your ass rubbed on his growing bulge, earning small groans here and there. He made it a task to purposely brush himself against you, his tip leaking from your unintentional touch.

“Gonna cum.” you mumbled, his body grounding you from behind.

Jeongin tilted his head at you in the mirror, a brief moment of thinking running through his head.

“Aww, so desperate.. aren’t we bunny?”

He pulled his hand out of your underwear, picking you up bridal style and placing you onto the bed. He got in right after you, his body hovering over you. His eyes were dark, filled with a lust you never seen before. A bit of possession in them as Jeongin was desperate to mark you like a dog.

He placed his knee between your thighs, pushing up against you just enough for your clit to feel the pressure. His kisses danced on the front of your neck, his soft sucking leaving a map of hickeys against your skin. His lips moved along your collarbone and down toward your chest, making his dick twitch thinking about them.

“Fuck I just want to eat you alive baby. You’re such a beauty when I have you like this.”

He pulled the straps of your mini dress down, letting your tits pop out from under. Jeongin was practically drooling, bringing his thumb to his mouth as a source of lubrication. He popped it out of his mouth, rubbing it against your nipple softly. You squirmed beneath him, watching his lips kiss around your chest. His thumb worked tirelessly at your nipple, his warm lips leaving dark hickeys that you couldn’t hide in a bathing suit. He wrapped his teeth around your skin, biting it harshly.

“Fuck Innie, that hurts.” you moaned in pleasure, displaying an opposite reaction of pain.

You ran your fingers through his hair, arching your back under him as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked against it softly, his tongue swirling around it. He took turns between each breast, leaving small marks here and there to remind you of him.

“My, my.” Jeongin admired your tits, smirking at every mark he left on them.

“I don’t mean to hurt you angel, I just can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

His kisses trailed down your clothed stomach, eventually landing onto your thighs. You whimpered quietly, a funny feeling in your stomach making you excited for what he could’ve been thinking.

He bit your thighs harshly, his teeth marks making themselves present on your skin. He massaged your other thigh as he worked hickeys into your skin, trying to ease the slight discomfort it gave you.

“The thought of others admiring you the way I admire you.”

Jeongin licked your thigh slowly, pulling your underwear off and throwing it off to the side.

“You’re mine, you know that?” he looked up, his eyes meeting your own as you nodded shyly. “You belong to me.. only me.”

His tongue dragged against your folds, ending at your swollen bud. He sucked on it softly, earning a pleading moan out of you. He lapped up your juices as his finger nails dug into your soft skin.

“Do I not give you enough attention?”

He kissed the sides of your pussy, tongue still dancing around your folds. You pushed your hips upward, grinding against his tongue slightly.

He sucked on your clit, sticking his fingers into you and fucking you softly. You let out a small whimpering sigh, raking your fingers through his blonde locks as he toyed with you. The sound of your juices filled the room, his fingers curling just enough to hit your sweet spot.

“Do I not make you feel good, baby? Is this not enough for you?”

His fingers sped up their pace, making you open your legs further for him as he continued to leave hickeys around your thighs.

“You want another man to fuck you like this, eh?”

His harsh gaze admired you, watching as you helplessly moaned in pleasure while your body squirmed.

“I won’t let it happen.” His thumb moved circles around your clit, fingers still pounding into you.

He came back up to your level, kissing your neck and sucking on the skin to leave darker marks than before. His other hand held onto your chin, moving your head to the side as you helplessly moaned into his ear.

“Mm, that’s it baby.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Let me remind you who exactly you belong to.”

Your moans soon turned into breathless noises, your stomach doing flips as you felt yourself slipping through his fingers. Jeongin noticed this, slipping a third finger into your aching hole.

“Gonna cum baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes showing mercy as they met his own.

“Do you think you deserve to after trying to dress like a whore?”

You attempted to whine out in defense, only for whimpers to leave you. Jeongin tilted his head at you, laughing to himself.

“I should just leave you to suffer. It is my birthday after all.” He stopped in place, his thumb dragging against your clit agonizingly slow.

“Please, Innie. I’ll change, I promise!”

He raised his eyebrow, his free hand tracing the hickeys on your breasts.

“Please? Now you want to listen?” He leaned over, grabbing your chin once again to meet his face. He glared into your eyes, his face as cold as ever.

“If I see you in this dress again, I’ll be sure to rip it off you next time.”

You trembled underneath him, his fingers starting up a slow pace inside of you. He kissed the side of your jawline, taking a small bite at your skin. You winced in response, moaning as his fingers fastened inside of you.

Within seconds of him starting, you immediately let yourself go onto his fingers, juices spilling out on his hand. He sat back, watching as you coated him.

“Atta girl, don’t hold back.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, licking your juices off his fingers before leaving small kisses on your thighs. He pulled the straps back onto your shoulder, fixing your dress before pulling you up to your feet. He walked you over to the body mirror, standing behind you with a smug smile on his face.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching your face flush red as your eyes fell to every hickey he left on your skin. You nodded, pulling on the strap to find the hidden ones under your dress.

“You can wear this dress if you want.” He hovered by your ear, laughing to himself before continuing.

“With these visible marks, you’ll surely get that attention you so badly want.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: happy birthday to innie!! <33 this has gotta another fav of mine that I wrote.. may have bias wrecked myself in the process..😅

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[intoanotherworld23]

Our Secret Of Rome

Summary: You and general Marcus can���t hold back both your desire for one another, only problem is you’re the fiancé of emperor Geta

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, cheating, reader having an affair with Marcus, mention of death and execution, submissive reader, dominant Marcus

A/N: hello my lovelies I hope that you enjoyed this one and if you did be sure to reblog so others may enjoy and leave comments I would greatly appreciate it! If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Thanks everyone again for your continued support! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan @lover-of-books-and-tea @bbyanarchist @justajoelsreader

“Marcus someone could see us.” Whispering as he had you pinned your naked body up against the stone wall your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His large hands keeping a grip on the fat flesh of your cheeks.

“By the gods I do not care.” Growling as he lifted your hips before slamming you down on his length. A sharp gasp slipping past your lips as you bit down on his shoulder to quiet your cries. “No no my love let them hear you.”

“Marcus.” Pleading with him to stop now before you both get in trouble, but also wanting so desperately to scream his name so everyone throughout the whole of Rome could hear. Only problem is you are emperor Geta’s fiancé.

“I only wish to hear your screams of pleasure.” Rutting his hips up into you the sounds of your flesh smacking against his echoing through your room. Your skin already sticking to his noticing how warm and sweaty he was.

This was wrong all wrong. You both knew the consequences if someone were to catch you both like this. Geta would have both of you executed with no hesitation. It was a major risk to even be in a room alone with another man, but that for some reason didn’t stop either of you.

“Marcus we can’t do this.” Whispering out of breath already keeping your arms wrapped around his neck feeling the burning stretch of his cock started to go away. His touch and voice had you feeling weak that you couldn’t resist him anymore.

“Then why do you keep such a tight grip on me princess?” He mocked you with a smirk as he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck. “Is it because you desire to be fucked by a real man?”

“Yes by the gods yes.” Finally giving in as you felt yourself lifting your hips up slightly to meet his thrusts. Marcus saw immediately what you were going, and all he could do was groan as he turned around and carried you over to the bed. Your back landing on the bed his cock still inside you. Untangling your legs placing them on his shoulders.

“Even the emperor Geta couldn’t fuck you like me.” The new angle was stretching you even more. Not knowing how it was even possible to feel Marcus deeper inside of you. “Not even the gods themselves.”

Proceeding to rut himself roughly inside of you rocking the bed back and forth. Marcus looking down at your face noticing how it twisted and contorted with each thrust. Watching as your breasts bounced licking his lips noticing your erect nipples.

“You look better than the goddess Aphrodite herself.” Leaning forward on his elbows so his face was just inches from yours. Staring deep into your eyes it felt like it was just the two of you.

Drilling into your sweet spot over and over again you felt like you were up in the heavens. Marcus was a man with the mightiest touch. It could bring anyone to their knees. A little surprised that a man like him would want someone like you.

“Marcus please I’m close.” Informing as your body began to quiver a fire erupting in the pit of your stomach. Head tossed back in complete ecstasy unable to hold back anymore.

“Let go I am right here princess.” Marcus wasn’t far behind you either. Just wanting to see the look on your face as you come around him. His deep and seductive voice sending you over the edge. “That’s it my love let yourself go.”

He leaned forward his face pushed down between your neck and shoulder. The scruff of his beard tickling your skin. His lips pressed into the warmth of your flesh. Noticing the hint of rose and lavender coming from your skin soaking it in.

“Oh gods.” Feeling your body coming undone as your orgasm shook your entire core. Toes curling above his head as you closed your eyes, and felt yourself completely succumb to your pleasure. Your battered cunt was stretched and sore from his cock. His hands softly caressing your outer thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

Trying to catch your breath as your chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Your arm laid numbly by your side as your legs continued to slightly tremble. Marcus wanted to stay like this forever, but unfortunately that would be neither one of your fates.

Either this would be the last time you and Marcus could be together, or Geta would find out and have you both executed for treason. He was a cruel and evil man, and didn’t have the love and affection in him that Marcus has.

“I don’t want you to let me go Marcus.” Whispering to him as he lifted himself up to look at your face staring into your glazed over eyes.

“If that is what you desire then I shall never let you go.” Smiling hoping his words would comfort you, but he could still sense the worry on your face.

“You and I both know Geta would have us executed if he was to find out.” The thought of having to watch him die had your heart aching. Lip trembling hating to even say it out loud your eyes watering a tear falling down your cheek.

“Then we shall see each other in the after life.” Wiping the tear away as he held your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Where we can be together again.”

Marcus not waiting for your response as he rolled you both onto your sides facing each other. As he held you in his arms kissing your face until you smiled, and could sense your relief. Not knowing if this was your last night together. Until then he would just hold you as long as he could.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 5: Let’s Talk About Sex

I was mostly planning to check in again after the current Japanese shows ended, but after three out of four sex scenes left me wanting this week, I want to write down my ideas. I maintain that bed scenes, like action scenes, need to tell us more about the characters. Many sex scenes serve as a release of tension or confirmation of existing feelings. As usual, MAME seems to understand this, and others should probably take notes. 

Call Me By No Name is Doing Nothing For Me (5/8)

I have just about given up on this show. I don’t get Megumi’s whole deal, why she’s so in love with Kohata, or Kohata’s reticence. I was really hoping that an intimate scene would open up some space for vulnerability and truth with them to give us some answers about why these two weirdos are drawn to each other, but that’s not what we got. I was hoping that when we saw these two go at it we’d learn how much Megumi has felt for women before, or how she responded to Kohata’s experience. Instead, I’m left feeling cold by the whole affair, and generally baffled by the conflicting themes around going somewhere she did cutesy girl nights before, and ordering the cute food. This one is a chop.

Impression of Youth is Wasting My Time (5/9)

I have my own squicks as a former teacher with stories where a teacher messes around with their student. However, I don’t see the point of doing a teacher-student story if we’re not going to explore any of the lines being crossed here. We also didn’t get a good arc about the student helping the teacher properly reconnect with a feeling, or discover something, that helped him get back to his art. We simply had him start painting on the beach again, the kid confessed, and then they fucked with awkward kissing. I was a bit let down by the brother’s fast encouragement of the whole thing. It felt like they were reaching for the same energy we had in Call Me By Your Name (2017) with Oliver and Elio, but it’s missing the component where Oliver knew what he was doing the whole time for me. The overall alignment feels off, and I’m getting so little emotion from this show as a result. On top of all that, they showed us the kid’s boxers before implying he was nude in the shower! Ridiculous! 

When It Rains It Pours is Being Shy About Sex in a Show About Cheating (5/7)

This is the biggest offender of the week for me. This show is all about how the leads cannot have sex from the people they love, and find someone they can commiserate with in each other. When the dam finally breaks and they both need the release in each other, I was so dismayed that the show tried to gloss over as much of the sex as possible. It’s so fucking annoying for me when the shows about sex get precious about it and won’t show it. I was thankful that they tried to capture all the emotions happening around the weekend they spent together, but I think we lost a lot in not having Hagiwara blow Sei, because you just know that man has a people pleasing streak that would require him to give pleasure back. The lack of sex also means that there is no gap time between the infidelity and the discovery. We don’t give enough time for the shift in their relationship to breathe before the crisis (@respectthepetty). I’ve lamented before about Japanese shows only showing toxic or breakup sex, and so it’s damned annoying that they’re doing that in the cheating show because they probably want these guys to be together by the end. I was really hoping Mood Indigo would have some company finally (especially after Love in the Air Koi), but I clearly need to stay patient. Cannot overstate how lame it is for the show about two guys cheating because their partners won’t fuck them being shy about the sex effectively sides with the partners who won’t fuck them. Finally, I am not over them getting the insertion angle wrong while making points about it!!

Your Sky Could Have Been A Good Follow-Up on 2gether

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because I don’t know what I want to say about this one. I was really into it in the beginning, but it felt like this show didn’t really know what it wanted to do after resolving the issues with Oh. I personally liked the dad being confronted by his wife and father about the way his homophobia was hurting his son, but I didn’t really enjoy it as a Very Special Episode. I would have also liked to see Teerak’s newfound assertiveness in this period beyond is refusal to cave. I think this show also deeply underutilized its own supporting characters, especially the side couples. Still, I thought Thomas was probably the most beautiful newest BL boy we’ve gotten, and I liked the way he and Kong worked together. I also really enjoyed Teerak being allowed to want sex, ask for it, and take charge of it. That’s so important for a cute character. Letting us know that Teerak has also become protective of the private moments he has with Fah, and is growing into his desire for Fah really is a great way to finish a show.

Final Verdict: 7, Recommended With Reservations. I find it hard to give this a stronger recommendation. I just think the show ends up being overall inessential from how much of it ends up being fluff that doesn’t connect much to each other. The biggest things I liked were Fah and Teerak, especially in the early episodes, and I liked the family dynamics. Still, I feel like this show didn’t know what to do without Tine’s internalized homophobia, and what to do with Fah’s ex that was mentioned. There’s just too much hanging off this to recommend it as a strong drama. Everyone is very pretty, and the performances are earnest. It’s a show that means well, even if it’s a bit indulgent. 

The Boy Next World Understands that Phu Has a Dick (5/10)

MAME, as usual, understands the assignment. There’s no way that their first encounter is going to be Cir showing up to stick is dick in Phu’s ass. He’s been obsessed with this boy for years in a way that prioritizes Phu’s wellbeing. It was absolutely correct to payoff that Cir keeps making Phu hard by having Cir take care of him, let us see that Phu enjoyed it. Like @babyangelsky I think it’s important that we let go of the notion that cute characters cannot want and enjoy sex. We got so much from this. We know that Cir likes to give pleasure, and that he’s not going to ask for it from Phu. We also know that Phu cares about Cir, too, because he asked about his time in the bathroom (Cir clearly jerked off and rinsed his mouth, y’all). What’s so excellent about putting a sex scene at this point is it means we’ll see their sex change after Phu learns that Cir has been stalking him for years. MAME is consistently the best storyteller at using the kisses and sex to help inform the arc of the relationship. Most importantly, she gets what the angles are supposed to be.

Ossan’s Love Thailand Is…Fine (5/12)

I’m not really into this one much right now, despite what I think is a pretty solid performance from Krit Shahkrit. I understand the choice to go back to making Kongdech a widower, but I don’t think giving him a daughter who initially opposed the romance added much to this for me. I’m hoping activating Thor’s character next week will add some energy to this for me, because I’m feeling a bit flat with it at this point. I’m glad they’re letting Earth and Mix continue to play adult characters, but it doesn’t feel like they knew what they wanted to do with office romance dynamics here.

Gelboys is a Welcome Return from Boss Kuno (1/7)

Started this today and I am seated. I really love how much it feels like we get to actually be inside of Bangkok. I love that we opened with an ad for the Bangkok rail system as a mechanism for freedom. I love how filming on iphones has enhanced the naturalistic feeling of the production. I also love how we completed the major arc of the het angst of Make It Right in the first like five minutes. Incredible stuff. I’m so excited to see the mess Fou4Mod is going to make of everything, and I’m excited to see Chian dickmatize that boy. Curious to see how much this feels like a bubble show. Shout out to Boss for showing us a naked teen at the start of this show to scare off the pearl clutchers.

RED BLUE is EVERYTHING (6/8)

This is not BL, but it’s got enough BL boys rolling on the floor and sweating on top of each other that I’m saying here loudly that I LOVE IT. Kimura Keito is fantastic in this, and I loved his fight with Okura Takato in episode 6. I almost didn’t recognize my boy from his role as Amane in If It’s With You with the change in his hair. I did not know I needed a wrestling show with BL boys…who am I kidding? We’ve been asking for this every year. This is hitting all the notes I want from a sports shonen show. It’s fantastic.

Please Use the Sex Well in Romance

I think there’s a real place for clean romance in the BL genre. Some of our favorites don’t involve sex being a major component of their romance narrative, but that often requires significantly more drama and better storytelling and plots. What I cannot abide is when I find myself bargaining about how a show that wants to talk about sex every episode seemingly doesn’t want to deal with sex. Romances about sex that don’t use the sex well in their stories are as bad as comedies with terrible jokes, or action flicks with no suspense and satisfying fight sequences.

Other than that, I dropped I'll Turn Back This Time. It’s just too stupid and incoherent for me to put up with it’s nonsense. Seeya next time. 

[lsunstreakerl]

i was thinking about in famiglia familia au Red Bull throwing Max a little homeschool graduation?

If Max sat UK school exams he'd get his results for the last week of F1 summer break, so maybe at the first race back there's a cake. Not too much fuss, just a little bit because they all watched him sit on planes and various lobbies/restaurants with flashcards and textbooks studying for months.

we have somehow ended up at 1.1k words again. blame max- for someone who doesn't talk, he sure has a lot of thoughts.

Max isn't sure what he's going to do with himself this season. The last few years- he's always had a textbook laying around, flash cards to work on or homework to do. He doesn't have that anymore.

It's weird to think of himself as a graduate. When he'd been karting, finishing school hadn't been an option.

GP was determined though, and he'd spent countless hours sitting at tables and hotel rooms with Max and his homework, finding him in the garage to check on him and make sure he's taking breaks.

It's paid off, and Max now has more of an education than he'd ever expected of himself- but it's not enough yet.

He wants to go further, wants to take university courses, work in the grease and oil and floor shaking bass of the garages. He always knew racing was going to be part of his life, and he might be tackling it from a different angle now than he'd expected, but- he's proud of himself.

He zips his suitcase shut. He and GP are on one of the final flights out, most of the team in Australia already.

Max is kind of dreading the weather- hot and dry, the kind of heat that makes him wear shorts and thin shirts, the heat that makes him wonder if he can get away with his own ice bath.

Disgustingly enough, it's one of GP's favorite races of the year. Max doesn't understand it.

Max hefts up his pack, waddling it down the stairs since he can't see his feet over the edge. Gianpiero is in the living room already, and their coffee table is full of all the things that he normally keeps in his work bag.

He must be taking inventory. Max sets his bag by the front door before making his way over, staring over GP's shoulder.

"Max, hey. You got all your things?"

Max nods, leaning down and tapping his finger next to the collection of foil packets on the table.

'You do not need to carry those around anymore'

Gianpiero frowns, defensively cupping them under his palm.

"Yes I do- what if you need them?"

Max gives him a flatly unimpressed face.

'I can carry my own'

"Max,"

Gianpiero gives him a soft smile, tucking the painkillers back into their section in the bag, the same spot they've had for years.

"It's okay for me to want to take care of you."

Max shifts on his feet. He knows that- GP has been saying it for several years now- but it's still hard sometimes.

GP pats him gently on the arm.

"Even if you don't need them- it's for my own peace of mind."

Well, Max can't exactly argue with that.

------

The flight to Australia is so mind-numbingly long that Max takes a nap pretty much every time. He says he won't this time while they're boarding.

He does.

Waking up to Gianpiero shaking his shoulder isn't uncommon, and it means they're probably going to start their descent soon. Max yawns so wide he cracks his jaw, lips twitching into a grin at the way GP winces.

"I still think we should say something to your doctor about that."

Max rolls his eyes.

'Reddit says it's fine'

"Right, because we're taking Reddit's word as law now."

Max can see it on Gianpiero's face the instant he realizes what Max is about sign, already scrunching up his nose.

"No- we don't need to-"

'Not what you said when we were cooking turkey last week'

Max and GP are fairly decent at cooking now, but occasionally things get... forgotten. In the oven. While it's on.

GP makes an exaggerated frown at him.

"I thought we swore each other to silence."

'I am always sworn to silence'

Max hides his face in his hand as he shakes with silent giggles, and Gianpiero's groan at the terrible joke can probably be heard a few aisles down.

------

GP is being suspicious.

Max isn't sure what could possibly be so interesting on his phone to captivate his attention the way it is, but somehow it's Max who's guiding them from the hotel to the paddock.

At least the fans aren't crazy yet.

Max narrowly drags GP out of the way of another pole before he pokes him in the shoulder, frowning.

He throws his hands up in the universal 'what the fuck, dude' gesture, and Gianpiero winces, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he takes the lead again.

"Sorry about that Max- it was Christian."

Max lets it slide, but only this once.

------

There's a jazzy pop song playing from the garage, and it's not Nick's terrible 1990's dad rock, so it's probably Callum who has the garage speaker. Max doesn't mind- it's funny to see some of the older guys forget they're not supposed to like it. More than once he's caught Christian or Helmut bopping their heads, and GP's playlist at home would get him ridiculed at the garage for weeks if Max ever leaked it.

Weirdly, Gianpiero stays slightly behind him as Max pushes the door open, and-

"SURPRISE!"

It's multiple voices at once, and Mick is here too, and Max is confused for a moment until his eyes land on the cake on the table.

Congrats, Grad!

It's round, with navy frosting and white letters, a little fondant grad cap and diploma on the side.

Max blinks rapidly, and they really need to maintain this garage better if it's going to be so dusty-

This is for him.

He feels a hand rest gently on his shoulder, turns to see Christian and Adrian standing next to him.

"We're proud of you, Max. You've put a lot of work in- the whole garage can see it. Congratulations."

Max nods softly at Christian's words, and then Adrian is wrapping him in a side hug.

"I know it's hard, getting all your work done with the time zones and the races. I hope you know you did an incredible job anyways."

He has a point- more than once Max had woken up in a cold sweat, not because of a nightmare but because he wasn't sure if he'd missed a due date while on a flight.

There's been some very close calls. As well as many, many missed ones.

Some of the mechanics are surrounding him, and Max has a moment to realize that this is what family feels like.

He'd never thought he would be the kid getting a graduation party- never thought he'd graduate at all.

Gianpiero hugs him, squeezing gently as Max turns to hide his face in his shoulder. He's not going to cry about it. He's not.

GP leans his head down.

"I'm proud of you, Max."

He's crying about it.

[thanosspills]

A Night Out With "Team Thanos"

Synopsis: You and your new-found friends survived the games together after X's win the majority vote. Now that your roomies, a typical weekend with the group is cheering Thanos on at his show, getting wasted, and dancing at Nam-gyu's hot-spot club.

This is a continuation of my last team Thanos story! You can read it here (You don't need to read it to read this story, they're mainly just headcannons!)

Characters: Se-mi/player 380, Thanos/player 230, Nam-gyu/player 124, Min-su/player 125, Gyeong-su/player 256

Squid game au outside of the games, very light-hearted :) ...maybe

Reader is dating Thanos!

Warnings: drinking

"Hell no I'm not wearing that." Se-mi immediately shuts down your suggestion as she glares at the short black dress you picked out for her. "But you'd look so hot in it!" you argue. She rolls her eyes and fidgets with her lip ring, her go-to move when contemplating something. "Babe!" You hear Thanos shout from the bathroom. You throw the black dress at Se-mi and rush over to him. He's standing in front of the mirror looking defeated. "How the fuck do you get these to stick up?" Thanos gestures at his short pieces of hair on the sides of his head cut to look like horns. They sadly droop sideways, sticking out horizontally. You burst out a giggle, "Hey don't laugh! We have to go and I look stupid." He pouts. You compose yourself and grab the hair gel on the counter, "I'm sorry baby I'm sorry" You say, still holding in laughter. You stand on the tips of your toes to get a good angle on his head as he looms over you. You rub the gel into your fingers and run them through his purple strands of hair, pointing them upward and slightly curling them so they stay up just how he likes them. "There you go." You smile at Thanos, admiring how damn good he looks. You set the gel back down on the counter, Thanos's eyes locked on you. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back toward him. He places his other hand on your waist, moving it down to your ass as he pulls you into a deep, prolonged kiss. It was his way of saying thank you, and god you liked that so much more then the words. "You're gonna be late to your own damn show if you don't hurry." Se-mi interrupts standing at the doorway with Min-su and Gyeong-su next to her. She's wearing the dress you gave her, her arms crossed uncomfortably. "Yo, Thanos looking fly my bro!" Gyeong-su excitedly shouts, doing little finger horns above his head. Thanos grins and dabs Gyeong-su up, before shouting "LET'S GOOO!" as he jumps through the living room toward the front door. You smile at Se-mi, "Look at youuu!" you tease. She chuckles and playfully nudges you, "Shut up." You turn back toward Min-su, asking, "What do you think?" Min-su shyly smiles and looks at the ground. "She looks good.."

Thanos dabs up the bouncer as you and the group walk into the club, his arm draped around your shoulder. Nam-gyu spots you guys and marches over to Thanos, "There you are! Fuck, dude you were almost late again." Thanos grins, "Chill bro, the fans love me they don't mind waiting." Thanos turns to you and dramatically kisses the top of your head, "See you on stage, senõrita!' He skips away and Nam-gyu angrily speeds up to catch up with him.

Thanos's presence takes over the entire club, everyone was chanting and jumping up and down to each song. After the games, Thanos used his money to up the production of his music and found his footing again as a rapper. His success skyrocketed, giving his career a second life. He honestly didn't need to play at a club, but he enjoys the personality of a local crowd and likes bringing attention to Nam-gyu's work. You and Gyeong-su are jumping up and down, rapping Thanos's lyrics at each other. Gyeong-su had been to so many of his concerts before the games he was better at keeping up, which you were slightly jealous of. He always teased you about being a bigger fan. Se-mi swayed and sipped on her drink as Nam-gyu was forcefully gripping Min-su's shoulders from behind and shaking him to the song.

Thanos blew the crowd an animated kiss and ran backstage, immediately swallowing you with a big hug. He peppered your face in kisses, the adrenaline of performing still pumping through his body. He would always say his two favorite drugs were you and the stage. Gyeong-su ran up to you guys, drunkenly bouncing up and down "BRO THAT WAS FUCKING WILD! YOU WERE A BEAST UP THERE!"

"SHOTS FOR THE V.I.PS!" The bartender poured up two shots for each of you, everyone clinked glasses and threw them back. Min-su always coughed and gagged after each one, and Nam-gyu always gave him a hard time for it. Nights like these made everyone forget the games ever existed. You guys weren't drinking to forget, you were all just friends, making memories to help combat the brutality you collectively witnessed. It's what made you guys so close. The tension between the group in the games quickly decimated once you guys made it out and agreed to stick together. You were feeling the looseness and euphoria the alcohol gave you, Gyeong-su darted toward the dance floor as one of his favorite rap songs started playing. Se-mi, Nam-gyu and Min-su followed. Thanos stood up, "Come on senõrita let's dance!" He shouted. You giggled, "Okay, okay hang on!" You quickly grab what's left of your drink and down it. You turn toward the bar top to set it back down, and your heart drops at the sight of something you swear wasn't there a second ago. A brown paper business card laid flat on the counter. Sharp, agonizing memories flood back to you. It was exactly how you remembered it, despite you trying so hard to forget all of it. You pick it up with shaky hands. A circle, a triangle, and a square decorated the top. How the fuck was this possible? You turn it over, reading the familiar digits. "456-034"

I saw a couple people asking for more so heres a part two :)) Sorry this ones kinda short. I love writing for team Thanos so much let me know what you think!!

[aq2003]

okkkk some jumbled thoughts from my 3rd macbethening, this is a combination of things related to the film version plus just the production in general because i love it so much

i don't think i'll ever stop being floored by the opening scene. the music, macbeth's expressions (the exhausted, haggard way that he moves as the praises for his viciousness on the battlefield ring out behind him)... i'm deranged forever. bonus points this time for the close-ups on his face

the macbeth's embrace when they first reunite is so tender :( the way they hold onto each other :(

thanks to me having the soundtrack on loop i noticed a few interesting things re: the soundtrack. for instance the motif of the psalm first plays when duncan is naming malcolm heir (although much less dark and creepy i think). then it comes in at full force when macbeth is crowned king

it was stated in the traveling folk interview that iomar ò illean mhara was the song played at the irl funeral of duncan, and quite fittingly the first time it plays in the production is when lady macbeth welcomes duncan to inverness. though over the course of the play it definitely becomes lady macbeth's theme and plays over/in between her most pivotal scenes (including before and after the sleepwalking scene and right before her final exit). this makes me think about the parallels between them and how duncan's ghost haunts her (this production keeps the line about him reminding her of her father...!) def need more time to marinate in this

the little cascade is definitely banquo's motif (or the motif representing banquo's lineage). it plays during the first scene with him and fleance and then when the apparitions show macbeth banquo's legacy becoming kings !!

love the bird's eye view of macbeth bowing to duncan (and how it establishes a visual parallel w/ him on the ground before getting crowned, and him being lifted up by the witches)

LOVE how the ceilidh was filmed, it was even more stunning (!) than when i saw it live although that may have been where i was sitting lol

the only parts of the film version i don't think live up to when i watched it live were the "stars hide your fires" scene (i would like to see more of the slo mo clapping!) and the final fight (i think the choreography prob improved when staging it at the harold pinter, it was cleaner and less chaotic having everybody come at macbeth from only two directions)

of course it is stated in the credits that the "child" role is fleance, the macduffs' son, and young siward, but there are a few moments i think are solidly the ghost of the macbeths' child (he's behind the glass the whole time). when he appears over lady macbeth welcoming duncan to inverness, when he's walking along to the ceilidh (and you see him between the macbeths during the time-slow bit), and when he's frantically knocking as the macbeths dance together (after they resolve themselves to murder duncan). in this way i think he serves both as the embodiment of their reason to kill duncan and the embodiment of their guilt

the big, single knock of the ensemble behind the glass before macbeth has his monologue abt how "every noise appalls him".... the hands pressing against the glass when macbeth talks abt how he'll never sleep again..... so delightfully creepy. i love it so much.

i didn't have a good enough angle to see it either time i watched it live but the Look between the macbeths after lady macbeth pretends to "faint" was so good... i think dt's macbeth makes me actually believe that him killing duncan's servants was like this fucked up manifestation of his guilt and "violent love" and he was dissociating badly + didn't know what he was doing. anyway now in this scene he's making himself look insanely guilty so lady macbeth has to take everyone's eyes off of him for a hot second. love how the murder power couple are kind of cringe fail in their own funny way

the very uncomfortable look that the murderers share with each other when macbeth brings up killing fleance. suuuuuch a good touch to that scene

you all know i am a huge fan of the dagger soliloquy cuz it was macbeth grabbing at his own shadow, macbeth as the "dagger", resolving himself to be more a weapon than a man, etc, but also this theme is repeated in his last monologue in 3.2! he talks to his shadow again when he's justifying arranging the murders of banquo and fleance to himself. OOF

in my notebook for one of my points i just wrote "3.4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" cuz, obviously, david's acting in this scene is just fucking riveting and still gives me full body chills. also, staging note, i love that when he hallucinates the ghost for the second time everyone at the "table" moves away and it's like we're not watching him lose it in the eyes of everyone else we're being fully dunked into his head as he completely unravels

i think i like both the donmar and harold pinter versions of the 2nd witches scene equally! the choreography for the donmar version is a lot cooler and makes the witches feel more otherworldly but the harold pinter version connects it back to the theme of macbeth's trauma and grief and how the witches take root in that

i think it's just the fact i could see her expressions better but i teared up during the sleepwalking scene.. like aughhhhhh cush jumbo you came for my knees!!!!!!!!

the deranged grin on macbeth's face when he disarms macduff and he says "thou losest labor" i am soooo. i am SOOOOOOO. [chews on my arm]

BIG POOL OF BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHH

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Abstract Love~

NSFW

Pairing: Rafayel x fem! Reader

Warnings: Rafayel tops, smut, scissors used to cut clothing.

Summary: What had started out as a wholesome idea of becoming Rafayel’s human canvas quickly shifts into sexual tension and a passionate night.

AN: I haven’t written a fic in like over a year so bare with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s just bad lol 😭

“Hold still, Cutie.” Rafayel gently commands as he grips your wrist.

His tongue just barely pokes past his normally pouting lips in concentration as he angles the paintbrush carefully over your skin.

You let out a small giggle as the brush fibers danced across your ticklish arm. “It tickles though.”

He lets out a dramatic sigh and grips your wrist a little tighter.

You see, the day just started with him painting a commission and you stopped by to spend time with him and wind down after a long week. But after many little snarky comments and teasing each other, he managed to splatter you with paint as a joke.

Unfortunately for you, the paint splatter (according to Rafayel) looked just like a specific species of coral that grew in Lemuria. To you, it looked just like what it was; a paint splatter. He's the artist, though.

So now, you’re being held hostage and yelled at to hold still by your dramatic boyfriend while he finishes your new armpiece on the round ottoman in his living room.

“Ya know, people would kill for me to paint on them.” He says and his gaze shifts from your arm to your eyes. “You could be just a little grateful.”

Blowing a stray piece of hair out your face, you roll your eyes at his comment but stay silent.

He continues working in silence after that. A bit of annoyance runs through you as he continues to trail the paintbrush higher up your arm until the strokes hit the edge of your t-shirt sleeve.

Rafayel grabs your sleeve and tugs at the material impatiently. “Off.”

“No, Raf, I just wanna relax and you still have to finish your piece-”

“Please, baby?”

Fuck, now Rafayel sits there with the saddest puppy dog eyes as his eyebrows curve up. He even adds a lip wobble in there to really get under your skin.

You let out a sigh, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you agree. “Okay, okay. Big baby.” Your fingers curl underneath your top to take it off.

Rafayel’s hand quickly grabs you before you can tug any further. “Wait, you’re gonna smudge the paint.”

And just like that, your blood pressure rises again. Your arms drop down to your sides and wait for more directions, cause apparently you aren’t doing it right.

“Please don’t hate me.” He stands up and walks over to a nearby cabinet with his back turned towards you. All you can hear is junk rattling around as he rummages in one of the drawers.

As he turns around, you don’t miss the shiny glint in the basking sunlight of what he is holding in his hands.

You quickly sit up straighter and your mouth drops open in shock. “You are not cutting off my shirt.”

Rafayel sits down beside you again, yet you back away as he moves closer.

“Please? I’ll buy you like ten more,” he begs as if he were asking you for a piece of candy. Rafayel stares at your glare in dismay, and then the begging continues.

“Raf, I like this shirt.”

“My love,” his arms wrap around your waist and he nestles his head into your lap. “I’ve been working on that commission for hours. I just need a little break.”

Rafayel’s warm breath fans over the exposed skin on your tummy and lets out a soft groan as his arms tighten around your body.

“My rock, my inspiration, my muse. I’ll never ask for anything again.”

You let out a laugh knowing damn well that wasn’t true in the slightest.

He pouts again at your reaction and lets out a huff. “What’s it gonna take?”

Your fingers thoughtfully stroke your chin as if you were a wise man with a beard. “I want you to take me to that nice restaurant with the fancy classical music.”

He goes to respond but you cut him off before he could even let out a sound.

“And a trip to the arcade. They have a new plushie collection.”

“Done.” Rafayel pushes your body against the ottoman as he moves to straddle you and makes sure to push all of your hair away from your shirt. “Hold still, baby.”

If circumstances were a bit different, this would be so sexy.

He grips the bottom of your top, the cool metal of the scissors gently grazing your skin sending shivers up your body. The thin fabric easily slices as he gets closer to your neck.

“Tilt your head back.” His free hand grips your chin and gently pushes back, exposing your neck. With a final snip, the fabric now hangs loosely off your body, leaving just your bra exposed. He helps you out of it and discards the ruined shirt and scissors to the side.

Rafayel continues to hover over you, his breath growing ragged at the sight of your breasts straining against your bra from the position. He leans down and places a lingering kiss on your lips. His tongue glides over your bottom lip before slowly dragging his lips down your jawline and neck.

“R-raf…” you breathe out. What the heck is he doing? Is he trying to make you horny or trying to make art? If he continues, you’d know you both would be too turned on and needy for each other to continue.

“I know, I know.” His head falls on your chest in defeat. “I won’t be able to stop if we keep going.”

There’s a silence for a few moments before he lets out a sigh, the air flowing between the valley of your breasts.

Letting out another groan, Rafayel focuses on finishing you- well, his art on you.

“Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny.” The muffled words ring from him like a prayer and it sends you into a laughing fit.

“C'mon finish up.” You tap at his arm and he reluctantly sits up and grabs the paintbrush again.

The next 20 minutes were spent in silence. Your eyes were closed as you didn’t think you'd find this activity as relaxing as you originally thought. The occasional hums and steady breathing fill the void in the meantime. Rafayel had managed to paint his way up your arm, across your clavicle, and back down to the other arm. The original coral piece he had started with had expanded into various designs of foliage, all oceanic of course. Vibrant colors littered your body as different designs of seaweed, shells, and even bubbles coated most of your top half.

You feel the tip of the brush swoop down between your cleavage before abruptly stopping. Blinking your eyes open at the pause, you look down and see Rafayel’s eyes sadly staring at the front band of your bra that connects the cups. His bottom lip was stuck between his teeth as he hesitantly met your eyes.

Sitting up carefully, your hands reach back to unclasp the garment and you don’t miss the way his eyes lit up at the sight of your now naked chest.

“Are you excited that my bra is off cause of my tits or so you can continue painting?” You tease and wave the dangling bra in front of his face.

He tosses the garment away and it lands helplessly on one of his easels across the room. The blue and pinky irises were now glazed over with something you couldn’t quite catch.

“Both.”

Rafayel moved his palette stand closer to his new position. The veins in his hands flexed as he twirled the brush between his fingers and dipped it back in his colors.

“Ooh,” you shiver slightly as the cold paint bleeds from the paintbrush down your breasts and your nipples start to grow perky. “Can I put on some pasties?”

Rafayel lets out a small snicker at your words. His eyes never leave your body as he continues to paint. His eyes flick to yours and he raises an eyebrow, “Did you really just ask me that?”

Your hands move your hair off your neck and you go to rub your shoulders for warmth but remember the wet paint coating your skin.“Yes, didn’t I buy some when I wore that dress with the open back for your last exhibition? I could’ve sworn I left them here.”

“I threw them out.” Rafayel’s words were quick. Too quick. Not to mention his focus had immediately shifted back to painting your chest. Your boyfriend is not smooth, he just wants to see your boobs.

“Rafayel.” Your tone is playful as you draw out your next words, “I’m cooold.”

Rafayel’s eyes lock onto your hard nipples. His lips parted slightly as a wicked idea filled his brain. Wordlessly, he lowers his head and quickly suctions his lips around the left bud. You moan out in surprise, your hands immediately coming up to entangle into his purple locks. His tongue swirls around the bud, lips squelching against your skin and his teeth lightly graze it.

Rafayel pulls off the swollen bud with a harsh pop and dips his head to latch onto your other nipple. Your body squirms in response with little breathy whimpers leaving your mouth.

After giving the same treatment, he pulls off the other nipple, and a smirk forms on his face. “Warm enough now?”

And just like that, he continues painting, while you try to ignore the wetness forming between your legs.

Oh, this son of a bitch is evil.

Rafayel stretches the artwork down to your naval and his left hand starts to grip your hip. You couldn’t help but continue to squirm and writhe a bit as the soft bristles kiss your skin. Not to mention the now heated sexual tension building up.

You squeeze your legs together in hopes of ignoring the growing heat.

“If you keep moving, I’ll tie you down.” He threatens.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Rafayel is not normally this… bold. The sex you two have- you wouldn’t call it vanilla at all, but usually you’re the one initiating anything freaky so to have him start to tease you like this so nonchalantly is turning you on badly.

“Is that a threat?” You ask.

“That’s a promise.”

Finally, the brush stops at your pants.

“You know the drill,” he says as he tugs at the belt loop of your jeans. His fingers quickly unbutton the front and he gradually pulls them off with your panties.

“Wait, Raf, everything?” A gasp escapes you as you’re now fully bare in front of him. Another shiver runs through your body as his eyes are fixated on your cunt. You’re just hoping he can’t tell how aroused you are. Silence is his only answer. Your jeans are tossed carelessly with the rest of your clothes, but he keeps a hold of the lacy panties in his hand.

“Someone’s a little hot and bothered, isn’t she?” He asks as his thumb brushes over the wet patch on the fabric. Rafayel gives a small chuckle before dropping the panties and kneeling in front of your body.

You go to sit up only for his hand to quickly stop you.

“Stay there, paint isn’t dry yet.”

His voice had gotten a bit raspier it seems, the tone dropping as his eyes started to cloud with desire. You’re able to catch sight of his half-hard cock behind his pants and you exhaled shakily, but obey nonetheless.

Once again, the cold bristles touch your skin, making it even harder to stay still as he trails them down to your hip bones. “R-Raf…”

“Hmm?” His eyes never meet yours, too invested in focusing on finishing his creation so he can ruin the fuck out of it.

And you.

After only hearing silence from you, he finally looks over to meet your needy expression. He knows that look, he practically invented it. Your eyes had shifted to match a puppy’s and your mouth formed a pout as small huffs of air left your parted lips. The same stupid look he gave you earlier when he wanted to start this project. Oh, how it came to bite him in his Lemurian ass.

“Lemme finish up and I’ll fuck you, cutie. I promise.” His now quivering hand goes to continue painting down your thighs and you jerk abruptly as the brush kisses your inner thigh.

When Rafayel looks over, he can see the wetness start to travel down the lips of your pussy, a small puddle staining the furniture underneath you. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and his breath hitches in his throat. His hands hook underneath your thighs and pulls you closer to him before diving in like a hungry shark.

You let out a surprised whine as you feel his tongue slide into your folds and start to lick. Instantly, your leg curls around his neck and he groans into you. His tongue circles around your clit and suctions to it, much like he did to your nipples. Dirty moans leave your lips as small beads of sweat start to accumulate on your forehead.

“Hu-agh!” Your fingers grasp the edges of the ottoman fiercely as you start to slowly grind your hips into his face.

Rafayel slurps at your cunt, the filthy noises filled the once-silent room and his groans send vibrations straight to your core. After one more long suck on your clit, he pulls away, much to your dismay.

Ignoring your whines of protest, he looks at the puffy bundle of nerves and he can feel his cock fully hardening. The golden rays of the setting sun through the windows glow onto Rafayel and you can see your juices coating the lower half of his face.

“Baby, let’s stop painting,” you reach for his hand that rested on your thigh. “Please, I need you.”

Rafayel would love nothing more than to take you right here and now. To smear every piece of furniture in this room with the paint from your body, but he has a better idea in mind. An idea that required him to finish painting you.

“Soon, my love.” He leans over once more to lift your chin and he brings his face closer to yours as he seals your mouths together. You could taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his mouth when he slips his tongue in briefly. He pulls away and ruffles a hand through his hair.

Rafayel tells you to stay sitting up as he works on finishing your thighs and legs.

Soon enough, your front half is covered in paint. His detailed masterpiece swirls down your body and he swears you look so ethereal. Rafayel holds out a hand to help you up and he guides you to one of the floor-length mirrors resting on the wall.

He stands behind you as you take in his work, hands settling on the outside of your hips as he presses your body against his. A soft kiss is placed on your shoulder blade.

You really did look beautiful.

“If you give me at least twenty minutes to do your back, I promise you, my queen, I will worship you.”

A frown appears on your lips in response to his words.

More waiting?

“How would you even paint my back?” You ask since you risk the possibility of smearing or cracking the creation down your front.

“Just stand, okay? I’ll be quick.” Rafayel promises.

Bracing your hands against one of the walls in his studio, your hair was now pulled up, as Rafayel continued to paint your body.

Within only a short time, your back and the rest of your arms were completely painted. Rafayel had already planned out the rest of the piece in his mind while he was eating you out. How to enhance your figure and beauty without taking up too much time. Because, let’s face it- he wanted you, needed you. So, he had decided to go with larger and simpler designs instead of going as small and intricate as he did with your front.

You weren’t squirming as much even though it tickled as he continued lower and he wasn’t stopping as often either, his strokes deliberate and quick. Both of you guys had one goal in mind and you were eager to achieve it.

Rafayel kneeled on the ground, just barely finishing your calves.

Almost there.

Finally.

The last brush stroke was done.

Rafayel slowly got up, placing the paintbrush on the easel where your bra hung from. His hand entertained with yours. Standing in front of the mirror again, he turns you to the side so you can see his creation.

"Wow, Raf, it's beautiful."

Underwater floral patterns flowed gracefully across your body, each vibrant hue—deep blues, soft pinks, and rich greens—complementing your skin tone beautifully. Intricate details danced in the designs, tracing from the curve of your neck down to your ankles, creating a stunning tapestry of the ocean's beauty enveloping you completely.

"I wanted you to take a good look at it before it's totally ruined."

Your eyes flit down to his pants and that's when you notice how hard he is.

With that, he practically drags you to his bedroom.

“Wait,” you stopped halfway through the doorway. “I’ll get paint all over you and the bed. Shouldn’t I go wash up really quick?”

Rafayel scoffs and a smirk crosses his features as he starts to unbutton his shirt. “Cutie, that’s the whole idea.”

He reaches underneath his bed and pulls out a large folded white tarp. Quickly throwing off the pillows and duvet, he placed the tarp on top of the sheets.

You stand there, slowly getting the idea. You watch as he takes off his shirt, slacks, and boxers, tossing them in the corner. His cock was still hard as it curved upwards and the tip grazed his stomach.

Rafayel walks over to you with a new look of determination in his eyes. His hand locks with yours as he leads you to the bed.

“Let’s make art.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he gently pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. His lips fiercely locked onto yours in a sloppy kiss as you both let out needy whimpers and groans.

Rafayel attaches his lips to your neck and starts to nibble at the sensitive skin. You let out needy whimpers when he hits your sweet spot and you curl your leg around his waist, your deprived pussy needing friction- anything.

His hard cock hits your cunt and you both react with breathy whines. The tarp crinkles and the material squeaks a bit when Rafayel leans down and lowers his head by your throbbing clit once more, his tongue darting out and circling the bundle of nerves. Not holding back anymore, your back arches off the tarp as your moans fill the air.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Rafayel's bare arms lock against your legs, keeping them spread as he feasts on you. His tongue trails lower and swirls around the entrance of your eager hole, his whole face practically buried between your folds.

“Augh- right there…” you whisper breathlessly. “N-no, where are you going?”

Your fingers curl into his hair when you feel him start to pull away. He hovers over you again and places his hands beside your head. His lips find yours and he starts to rut himself against your cunt.

“F-fuck.” Rafayel whimpers against you and lets out a long hum. He becomes annoyed at the thought of ending so soon when you two just barely started. “I wanted to savor this moment, but baby, I can’t. I need you. Please.”

He pulls back slightly, the intensity of his dark, smoldering eyes locking onto yours with a passion that ignites a fire deep within. They seem to plead silently, urging you to utter the words that linger on the tip of your tongue, a promise of unspoken desires hanging in the air between you.

“Please, Raf, don’t make me wait.”

His hand trails down between your naked bodies and grasps his aching cock. He slides it up your folds, coating it in your wetness before slowly sliding in.

You both moan in unison as your gummy walls envelop his cock. Rafayel’s face is buried in your neck, as one hand holds up his weight and the other tangles in your hair.

He starts to thrust in and out, and your toes start to curl. The room becomes heated fast as the sinful sounds of skin slapping mix with filthy moans.

“Mm, fuck, you feel… so good.” He pants in your ear and his tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. “My beautiful muse.”

His words help tighten the knot in your lower tummy with your cries become louder with every thrust as you desperately try to chase your release.

Sloppy kisses are placed along your face and his moans become ragged groans as he too is close to cumming.

“I— augh!.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too.”

Words are really hard right now. Your mind was too cock drunk to even think straight. Rafayel lets out a choked noise and his thrusts start to falter slightly.

Dazed, your hand brings his face in front of you so you can see his pretty eyes. “F-finish with me.” Though your words are slurred and lazy, he understands completely.

His hips thrust even deeper into your hole as his body starts to shake. Your orgasm washes over you and you cry out, muscles tensing.

Before you can even recover, Rafayel pulls out of you, emitting a small noise at your sensitive walls. He roughly grabs your hips and turns you over on your stomach. The sweat on your body smears the once beautiful artwork covering your skin. The tarp shifts at the movement.

“One more, cutie, please,” Rafayel bends over your form and places another tender kiss behind your ear. “Can you do one more for me?”

You nod tiredly and he picks up your legs and spreads them once more. His fingers are placed in front of your mouth and you close your lips around them. Your tongue swirls around his digits for a good few seconds before he pulls them out.

“Good girl.”

You let out another breathy moan when his hand reaches down to finger your already stretched-out hole, ensuring you’re wet enough for another round. His long fingers are buried deep within you and your sore hips push back to rut against them.

When Rafayel pulls his hand away, there’s a long strand of cum connected to his fingers. He takes them in his mouth, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

It’s slippery when his cock finds its way to your slit again. With a slow push, he enters you again and bottoms out.

His thrusts are sloppier this time as he lays on top of you in the prone bone position. Your mind is hazy and blurred from pleasure and borderline overstimulation. The way his vulgar words are quietly whispered in your ear as if he wants to ensure you those words are for you and only you.

“You like it when I top, huh?” His words are a bit broken as small gasps and grunts are caught in between. His hand brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead from sweat and he places a tender kiss to your temple, while his other reaches under your stomach, forcing you to arch your hips.

“Mhm!”

Rafayel’s fingers find your clit once again, a broken cry escaping you in the process. The familiar coil in your tummy appeared again as your second orgasm of the evening was quickly approaching.

Loud whimpers started to leave Rafayel as well and he whines at his own orgasm building up.

“T-together, my love?”

That’s all it took to send you over the finish line. Both of you cry out in ecstasy as you finish together.

You can feel his hips stutter from his release, but Rafayel quickly pulls out before he can cum inside you a second time. Rafayel watches in a euphoric bliss as his cum shoots out all over your back in spurts before lazily trailing down your ass. The colors he had painted on you earlier were heavily faded, smeared, and now mixed with his white seed.

A content sigh escapes him as he rolls off of you and gathers you into his arms. Rafayel places loving kisses over your sweaty forehead and hair. Your fatigue quickly caught up to you and you felt like a limp noodle in his arms.

“Do you want me to start cleaning you up or would you rather lay down for a while?” He asks as he grabs a small rag sitting on the nightstand and starts to wipe the cum and sweat off your body.

"Can we just stay for a moment?" Your hand finds his resting on top of your hip, and you lock your fingers together.

"Of course, I'll start the bath in a few minutes." Rafayel brings your locked hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. "I love you, my muse."

----------

Bonus:

"So like... now what?"

The next morning, after freshening up, Rafayel laid the fully dried tarp against the bed. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he studied the tarp covered in paint.

The once-pristine white tarp had transformed into a chaotic canvas, splattered with vibrant paint that danced across its surface. The delicate designs he had painstakingly created were completely obscured, lost beneath the bold colors. Only a few faint handprints and the rough outlines of your limbs remained, turning the simple canvas into a wild abstract masterpiece.

The glass of cold-brew coffee in your hands jingles and Rafayel turns to you.

"What do you mean 'now what'?"

"I mean do we throw it out now? Or fold it up maybe?"

"We can't throw it out! This is art, this is our love, this is-"

"Porn."

[cyberrmusee]

| I hope nobody catch us

(but i kinda hope they catch us) |

contents: professor!nanami, virgin!reader, chubby!reader, nerdy!reader fem!reader, age gap (reader is in their early twenties, nanami is in his early thirties), pet names (darlin’, doll, pretty girl, sweetheart) oral (f receiving), p in v, size kink!, softdom!nanami.

synopsis:Kento has always been fond of his students, but his naive, innocent, star student? Drove him nuts in ways he couldn't explain. The need to corrupt the young, pretty, straight-A thing, was his only thought.

A/N: thank you SOOOO so much for over 100 followers and all the love on my last post!! (this is not proofread so i apologize in advance LOL) pls enjoy!

"Alright everyone." Nanami started, voice rumbling deep, grabbing his students attention right at the very end of his class.

"Next class.... we'll start going over Kantianism. So everyone please, do tonight's pre-reading," His eyes drifted over each students face until his emerald and hazel eyes landed on you.

Your sweet and innocent focus on his words made his cock twitch. Hanging on to every word from his thick, pink lips— snap the fuck out of it kento

His eyes lingered on you for a moment as you flashed him a polite smile, waiting for him to continue on with the “homework” he was in the middle of assigning.

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from you, no matter how much he desired to gawk at you as if you were the mona lisa freshly painted. “Its only twenty pages.. you all should be able to handle that.. right?”

And again his eyes were back to you, as the rest of your peers let out collective sighs and groans. You nodded your head eagerly, the biggest, most dorkiest albeit adorable smile on your face.

Admittedly, for whatever reason, Your Ethics and Morality class, was your favorite one. You loved the way any and all information you learned in the class challenged your brain, and you loved to think and see problems from any and every angle possible.

And there was also the fact that your Moral Philosophy professor was fuckin smokin-

Nanami couldn’t help the faint smile that flickered at the corner of his mouth when he saw how eagerly you nodded your little head. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but you were his favorite student not to mention, star pupil and dream fuck—

He looked over the class once more with a faint chuckle and nod before speaking again. “Alright then everyone, class dismissed. Enjoy your weekend.”

With that the entire class began to pack up and file out, before Nanami remembered he’d be posting their test scores from last weeks exam . “Ah also, grades for your most recent exam, will be posted this evening.”

a few sighs of relief were heard from some as they exited, while others face palmed and groaned at the thought of seeing their grade.

You however, were elegantly and quietly packing your class materials away into your little earthy shoulder bag. Standing from your seat as you finished and rounded the table to head toward the exit, pulling the bag over your shoulder.

The long patterned skirt you wore, hugged your hips. Little bits of chub spilling out over the top, just enough to make Nanami’s mouth salivate.

Your form fitted shirt clung to your curves and hugged your chest. Breasts overflowing out of the shirt just enough to make your cleavage the main appetizer of the meal that was you.

your skirt flowed within the air conditioned breeze inside the classroom as you walked, hips swaying and a small mindless smile across your face as you did so. blissfully unaware of the raging hard on you were giving Nanami.

He had already been watching you, sitting at his desk, leaned back in his chair. You were always the last person to leave from his class, but he didn’t mind, the longer you stayed, the more fuel it gave him to imagine shoving his cock right into your little hole and ruining you for any other man.

He knew he probably shouldn’t, it felt wrong, he was your professor, and ten years your senior. It went against everything he knew within the world of ethics.

But god, he needed you wrapped around him, he needed to feel your walls squeeze his cock and milk him til his balls shriveled up from how empty they were.

You were the only thing he was willing to break his moral code for.

Mindlessly you waltzed past his desk “Have a good weekend, Professor Nanami, see you on monday” your voice was like honey and lilacs, so soft and sweet but also rich and deep, he throbbed in his boxers and sat up before clearing his throat to speak.

“Would you like to help me grade your classmates exams?” He sputtered out voice strained, sounding like a nervous teenage boy.

You whipped your head around to face him, a small smile creeping onto your pretty features. “Again?” you questioned, a small chuckle following behind your words.

It was no secret that you were sort of his undefined teachers assistant. after all, you did have the highest grade throughout his entire student chart. 102.3%, most students left his class with an 83% on average. Last week you helped him grade another classes exams as well.

He smiled a little sheepishly after hearing you speak, though your tone was laced with amusement, he felt a twinge of guilt.

He always asked you for some form of help, but he couldn’t help it, it was the only way he could be with you alone to admire and ogle you the way he wanted.

“Yes, again.” he chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he confirmed your word. “Won’t hold you too long, yeah? swing by my office tonight and we’ll get through it together” he smiled reassuringly as if you weren’t already gonna say yes.

You had no plans this weekend (or any other) other than to write, masturbate or play a few games on your PC, the usual. “alright, is seven okay?” you asked, voice a bit softer than usual as you offered him a small smile.

he hummed and looked at the expensive watch on his wrist before nodding and drifting his gaze back over to you, drinking your body in again. “perfect, i’ll see you then.” he said firmly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

you nodded, your small smile turning into a much larger, toothier one, excitement brimming in your veins at the prospect of grading papers with your favorite professor again. “see you tonight professor” and with that you were out of his sight.

the door to his office was cracked when you showed up to it, punctual as ever. typical behavior for you. you’d decided on dressing a little more comfortable, some cute, fluffy little pajama shorts, a long sleeved shirt with lace just at the hem of the fabric, and the cutest little fuzzy slippers to match.

you held your bag over your shoulder and rubbed your lip balm covered lips together as you knocked on his office door before peeking your head in.

“hi professor” you said cheerily as your head popped into his office. he was sitting as his desk, first few buttons on his shirt undone, pen tipping back and forth between his middle and ring finger and tie partially unraveled as his eyes bore into the stack of papers on his desk.

his hard gaze, once focused on the papers in front of him, shot up to you and immediately it softened at the sight of your face.

“hi, c’mon in, glad you could make it.” he said rolling back in his chair, pushing away from his desk. you opened the door fully, stepping in and shutting it behind you, revealing your little outfit and his eyes nearly left their sockets.

his throat went dry and his cock started to harden in his khaki slacks. you looked so sweet and innocent in your little outfit. his mind began to run rampant, fantasizing about all the ways he could rip you out of it as his eyes traveled over you figure.

“i’m happy to help you Professor Nanami” you mused sweetly as you took a seat opposite of him in front of his desk, crossing one leg over the other.

you noted his lustful gaze and the way his eyes raked over you, and your mind started to swirl a bit.

You were innocent, at least in the way that society had painted you. No one knew about how curious and insatiable you were.

How you dreamt about your professor rearranging your guts and walls to the shape of his cock, nightly. How you fantasized about him being the one to touch you, while you touched yourself. How badly you wanted to hear him whisper how good you were taking him while he corrupted you.

You wanted him to do so, badly.

“Kento.” he corrected in a soft but firm tone. “Huh?”

He chuckled a bit “Call me Kento, or Ken.” he replied as he lazily drug his eyes over your body from across his desk.

“Kento” you repeated out loud, more to yourself than to him. He smirked, good, now he just needed to hear you moan it next—

He knew feeling like this about you, fantasizing like this about you, went against everything he stood for. His moral code, his ethical one.

But fuck he just could not help himself. There was something so sweet, so pure about your very being, that just drove him to the edge in the best way possible.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the stack of exams dividing it in half to split amongst the two of you. “Need a pen doll?” he asked with a raised brow, offering you the one between his fingers.

“Oh, um.. yes please” you smiled softly, pulling your mind out of the gutter as you grabbed it softly.

Your finger tips brushed against his and you swore you felt something deep in your soul ignite, it crackled and sizzled and it started to burn. Nanami felt that same feeling, it went straight to his groin.

you weren’t quite sure how you got here. sat on top of your professors desk with your shorts and underwear off, legs spread wide open with him on his knees in front of you, kissing your inner thighs.

maybe it was somewhere between the lighthearted jokes and prolonged eye contact, or the repeated subtle brushing of finger tips when you’d ask him if you graded a test correctly, showing it to him for reassurance, regardless both you and his dreams were coming true.

you looked down at him, eyes half lidded and low as he kissed closer and closer to your cunt, his glasses pushed up as far they’d go on his beautiful, broad nose. you were soaked, Nanami ran a finger between your puffy lips, coating it with your slick “pretty lil things all wet just f’me huh?”

you whined at the feeling, your body jerking just a bit against his finger, desperate for more, for anything. “ken, d-don’t tease me, p-please” you pleaded as you rolled your hips against his thick appendage.

you’d never done any of this before, you’d never even gotten past a singular kiss or first date with anyone before. sure you’ve tried fingering yourself, but it just didn’t feel right when you did it, maybe you didn’t know what you were doing, so you always stuck to good old fashioned clit rubbing.

a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, vibrating up your thighs as he kissed them, closer and closer til his face was right in front of your core, glistening and hot, he was close enough he could feel the heat from it warming his face.

“alright baby, won’t tease ya no more” his words were a promise. he licked a long stripe up your cunt, right between your sticky folds, eliciting the prettiest little whimpers from you.

he savored the taste of your slick on his tongue, thinking it was the sweetest little pussy he’s ever licked on “pussy so sweet pretty girl, tryin’ to get me addicted huh?”

immediately he dived in, his big muscular arms snaking around your thighs to hold you open, making you lean your body back and placing your hands on his desk to keep yourself as steady as possible, his lips latched on to your clit and he started to suck and lick on it like a man starved.

all the intense stimulation had your brain going haywire, unintentionally trying to shut your legs around his head “nghh— k-ken i— ohh m’god” he only hummed in approval.

he lapped at your cunt like you owed him something and this was his way of taking back from you, what was owed. like you’d stolen something and by god, was he going to get it back. he yanked you closer and pushed his head deeper as his tongue worked your clit into overdrive, you thought you’d physically explode from the way he ate you.

“w-wait.. kennn.. m’gunna” you whined as you tried to scoot back away from him, the pleasure was too much, but at the same time not enough.

he yanked you back to the edge of the desk, shooting you a little glare as he stopped for just long enough to discipline you and fix his glasses, moving them up to his forehead “no movin’ ‘kay darlin’? m’hungry, let me eat.” and then right back to your cunt he went.

you couldn’t even respond to him with words, all you could do was choke out moans and cries as your head tipped back, eyes in the back of your head with your mouth dropped open. the heat in your stomach was building, it was tight, and white hot, bound to break the dam and overflow.

“m’gunna cum— ken…pleaseee” you cried, cunt clenching around nothing, the heat in your stomach at its limit. “i know darlin, let me have it, give it to papa” was all he muttered as he redoubled his efforts on your clit, driving you right over the edge.

the damn finally broke. the heat overflowing as he held you in place and worked his tongue while you came. body trembling, legs shaking as you whimpered from the intensity of your orgasm.

his face was drenched in your juices as he lapped you up, working you through your orgasm and drinking you up as your essence dripped down his chin.

“there you go darlin’ that’s it, let it out” he cooed as he watched your eyes finally flutter open “good, you did so good f’me sweet girl.”

he pulled away from you and stood up, leaning his body against you, his bulge rubbing against your exposed core. you looked at how messy and wet his mouth was and felt a wave of embarrassment flood you.

“m’sorry” you muttered as you looked away. he laughed in response, it was deep and husky, filled with amusement as he tilted your face back towards his with his index finger. he set it under your chin and tilted your face up, making you meet his gaze.

“eyes here pretty girl” he murmed “you’re okay, i like the mess” he cooed sweetly as he leaned closer, pressing himself fully against you, “taste yourself, you taste so good” then he kissed you, chest pressed against your own as he moved his lips languidly against yours.

he grinded his bulge against your core, letting your wetness soak him through his pants as he groaned into the kiss. “need to feel this pretty pussy on me doll” he murmured against your lips.

you whined in response, heart thrumming in your chest nervously as he moved a hand down and worked the buckle of his belt and his zipper, glasses falling back down on to his nose, his pants dropped and his boxers weren’t far behind him. you broke the kiss and looked down at his cock—

holy shit.

your eyes widened, anxiety suddenly filling you to the brim as you stared at the monster, it was fully erect, standing at attention. precum beading from his angry red tip.

veins adorned the sides of his thick cock, traveling all the way down to his based where little curls of dark blonde hair nestled against his skin. how were you supposed to take that monster?

your eyes flicked back up to his, and he’d been watching you, watch him the entire time, letting you take in the sheer size of him, a knowing smirk on his face “s’alot ken..” you whispered

“i know darlin’, but you’ll be good and take every inch f’me wontcha?” he cooed sweetly. you figured at this point, there was no turning back, so now was a good a time as any to tell him you were a virgin right? right?!

“kento.. i.. i’m a-” you stuttered out, and before you could finish, he’d cut you off with words of his own “a virgin, i know doll, i’ll be gentle. promise.” your face flushed, hot as ever. “h-how’d you know?” you asked in a small voice.

he laughed, like genuinely, his chest rumbled against yours as the melodic chorus of his laughter filled the room. “doll, you came in less than sixty seconds. now i’m pretty good with my tongue, but that’s still a tell tale sign f’me.” he snickered just a bit.

you had never felt so embarrassed in your life, did you really cum that fast? it felt way longer when he was down there. how did he even know it was less than sixty seconds? was he keeping track?

he was, earlier, while you had your head in the clouds, singing a symphony of moans, he’d been lapping at your cunt and looking at his watch, noting the fact that he made you cum in about 45 seconds.

your face was hot with embarrassment at his words. you wanted to shrivel into a hole and die. nanami however thought the entire scene was so adorable, and it made him unimaginably hard.

he pressed himself against you to pull you out of your head. his tip and shaft gliding through your fat lips to gather up your juice. he groaned at the feeling “focus darlin’, m’not judgin, im proud to be your first, i’ll take care of ya” he reassured you as he leaned in and peppered small kisses against your neck.

you whined as you felt his cock glide through your lips and his sweet kisses against your neck, coupled with the reassurance, it was enough to get you right back in the zone. “m’ready ken” you crooned as he kissed at your neck and collar bone.

he hummed in approval and he drug his head from his neck to look at you “yeah? alright pretty girl, just hold on to me, papa’s gotcha”

you nodded slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders for stability. he gripped his throbbing cock, dragging it through your lips again, to gather up enough slick and pumped himself before settling at your entrance.

“deep breath for me sweet girl, mkay?” he said gently. you nodded and braced yourself, inhaling deeply as his fat mushroom tip invaded your little hole, nanami ignored his own pleasure in favor of watching your face to make sure there were no signs of discomfort.

he got a quarter of the way in before he stopped. “y’alright doll? s’not too much is it?” he asked as his eyes traveled your face.

“n-no s’just.. you’re r-really big ken” you breathed out. he chuckled as he rubbed soothing circles on your hips “you’re doing amazing pretty girl, but make sure you tell me if i need to stop ‘kay?” he nodded at you.

“okay.. i.. i can take it.” you whispered softly. he smiled at that, he thought your determination was so cute. “alright doll” and with that he pushed in a little further, you whined and gripped his shoulders, nails digging into them.

you could feel the stretch, the burn as his cock split you open for him. your greedy little walls sucking him in, inch by inch. nanami hissed, the pleasure of your cunt swallowing him and the pain of your nails in the divots of his shoulder blades, egging him on.

“get ready for a biigg stretch pretty girl” his voice had some breathiness to it. you could tell he was trying to hold back for you, he didn’t wanna hurt you. you nodded your head mindlessly, eyes nearly in the back of it.

he chuckled at your cock-drunk state and held your thighs up a little higher and as he pushed the rest of the way in, he let out a strangled moan as his tip kissed your cervix and he felt you clench him tight, almost a little too tight

“loosen up doll—hah—gonna b-break my dick if you—fuck— don’t” he breathed out, leaning forward to pepper more kisses on your neck. you whimpered as you tried to relax around him and adjust to the feeling of being so full. “s’too big ken.. mmf— m’trying” you whined.

it took you a few minutes, but nanami kissed your way through it as he waited for you to loosen up, you couldn’t lie, making out definitely did help.

“ready pretty girl?” he muttered against your lips. you nodded and that was all he needed to hear.

he drew his hips back, pulling out about half way before languidly thrusting his hips forward back in, filling you completely up, the both of you moaning in harmony as he set a slow, languid pace.

“pussy so—shit— so tight—hah-fuck” he groaned as he pulled your hips impossibly closer, your ass barely on the desk. “talk to me doll—fuck— feels good huh?” he panted as he rocked his hips back and forth, bullying your tiny little pussy.

“mmm f-feels gooooddd.. kennn” you crooned as your arms wrapped around his neck. the sensation was new, but god, it felt so fucking good, even the bits of pain from his fat mushroom tip kissing your cervix.

“yeah? taking my dick—hah— so fucking good pretty girl” he praised, and god was it making you twice as wet as before. “f-faster.. ken—nghh-harder.. m-more” you choked out.

it was like those were the magic words he needed to hear, something within him snapped. he grabbed the bottom of your ass and lifted you off his desk into the air as he slid you up and down his dick with ease. his big arms spreading you more open as he used you cunt like a toy, bucking his hips up into you picking up the pace.

“like this doll?—ah shit— you like that huh? like the way my—fuck—dick fills you up pretty girl?” he grunted as he moved you up and down, his hips meeting your body halfway.

your vision was white and spotty as he reached places inside your cunt, that you didn’t know were possible. mouth falling open, head back, whining and nodding as he thrusted upward, your tummy juggling with each upward motion he gave you. “y-yes sir.. i.. ah- ah— ken!”

the way your cunt fluttered around him, he swore he was seeing stars, he walked towards the wall holding you in his grasp as he pinned you against it and hoisted one of your legs on his shoulder as he held the other one open and pistoned his hips upward, eliciting cries from your pretty mouth.

“that’s right baby, you feel me in your tummy hm?” he breathed out, his balls we’re getting heavy, cock twitching in your cunt, the way your walls wrapped around him, it was like a vice, he picked up the pace just a bit further as his balls continued to tighten and the knot in his stomach grew.

“nghh- ken— s’deep.. m’gunna cummm” you whined as your soaking pussy gripped his cock tight, walls pulsing and legs shaking. the squelching sounds of him bulldozing your pussy and the symphony of your and his moans was all that could be heard within the confines of his office.

“go on sweet girl, cum on this dick f’me, give it to me baby” he coaxed as he pulled you off the wall and closer to him, chests pressed together as he kisses and bit at your neck and fucked into you with twice the effort as before.

you yelped and pulled him closer burying your face in his shoulder as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, white and hot, your vision was blurry as you clenched around him, crying out for him “m’cumminnnn kennnnn”

he groaned feeling your cum, hot and creamy, slide down his cock, spurring his own orgasm, he thrusted a few more time before burying himself at your hilt, the heat in his abdomen rushing forward as he came inside of you, hot spurts of cum, jetting out of him and painting your walls with his essence. “shit— f-fuck— sooo fucking good baby”

he rolled his hips up a few more times, emptying his balls as the last remnants of his seed coated your walls before taking your leg off his shoulder. you lifted your head from his neck and looked down at the small space where your bodies connected.

he slowly pulled out, watching the mix of your cum and his, leak out down his shaft and drip onto the floor and groaned at the sight “look at that fucking mess, you did so good f’me pretty girl.” he praised and you whined tiredly as he kept you in his grasp and sat down in his chair, rubbing soothing circles all over your lower back and sides.

“hurts ken” you mumbled against his shoulder softly. he chuckled just a little bit and you smacked his shoulder “s’not funnnyyy” you whined, which only furthered his laughter.

“don’t worry your pretty little head doll, papa’ll take care of ya” he whispered sweetly as he kissed the top of your head sweetly as he rocked you back and forth soothingly, rubbing your lower back as you laid against him, nearly asleep.

he could only hope the two of you didn’t get caught in his office, because he had no plans of moving you or himself any time soon.

nor did he plan to stop fucking you every chance he got, you might’ve been his number one student, but now you were just his.

and Kento Nanami, was not one to share.

[nullians]

It’s actually insane how fandom in general has become so scared of making weird and dark and ugly works. Like I look at myself and see how I have also subconsciously adapted this instinct to self censor and make things “marketable” and it’s making me want to crawl out of my skin. I need to get weirder and worse and more off-putting hello

[blindtaleteller]

tags, and this is the particular quote mentioned in them.

" I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that was comfortable with zero accountability. "

i like thinking of. tony didn’t know who much of the rest of the convoy died. do you think he’s also hoping that rhodey’s alive. do you think seeing him in the helicopter is less relief at being found and more at that his friend is alive. listen,,,

i do NOT like thinking about this but absolutely i do in fact think every single time about how the only thing tony knows for sure about the convoy is that everyone in at least 2/3 of the humvees died. just sitting in that cave for three months having no way of knowing if rhodey made it out or not i do in fact think of this and it does kill me yes i am LISTENING,

like his insane plan works and he survives but yinsen dies and he's got this thing in his chest and he's crash landed in the desert and maybe rhodey's dead and maybe nobody's even looking for him. and then the helicopter comes. and it's the air force which always means rhodey and rhodey comes out of the helicopter sorry can't type too busy crying

tony and rhodey not knowing if the other is even alive but refusing to give up hope and finally three months later running towards each other in the desert HEY HOW WAS THE FUNVEE, DUMBASS

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[talentforlying]

father grimaldi: forgive me, lord, for i have sinned. constantine: — understatement of the bloody century, that is. father grimaldi: the chapel is closed to the public! who are you? how did you get in here . . .? constantine: did you know vatican city has the highest per-capita crime rate of any nation state in the world? i'd have thought a touch of breaking and entering's pretty much par for the course around here.

so #1, an undeniable slay.

#2, how long do we think he was sitting in the confessional booth waiting for the guy to wake up from ellie's fake vision quest. like an hour? checking his light, practicing his Big Reveal Pose TM? he probably brought a book with him and just shoved it underneath the seat cushion when it was time to show off.

#3, knowing how intensely he studied & continues to study in order to teach himself magic at such an absurdly advanced level without any teachers to formally guide him? and how that level of dedication would absolutely carry over into researching a mark / making sure he had every corner of a confidence scheme nailed down pat? i like to imagine that the day before this meeting was spent with his severely under-caffeinated ass parked at a public library computer, squinting at articles for 'most important things to know about vatican city before you travel' or 'top 10 little-known facts about vatican city' and using the back of his boarding pass to take notes on what would be the best throwaway line to blow off all the usual questions with.

also, he probably woke up still in his travel clothes less than two hours before this scene and had to hustle to get suited up in time for his Dramatic Apparition. the demon blood was boiling so bad in that chapel that it was giving him a killer migraine. he didn't get breakfast so his stomach was growling the ENTIRE time. but all that meant was he had plenty of room to eat UP the runway and that's EXACTLY what the fuck he did.i'm

[missdynamighttt]

watching porn with bf! katsuki bakugo will somehow turn into a bet to see who will give in first.

when you ask him if you could watch porn together, how could he say no to you, his girl? more so when you basically riled him up to convince him.

"bub, can we watch porn together?" you look at him, your legs resting in his lap as the both of you lounged on the couch.

katsuki's eyes widen at your directness, his jaw slightly dropping at your question. he scoffs out of disbelief, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"you're real damn blunt, pervert," he grins at your pout, stroking your thighs with firm, gentle squeezes.

"i'm not doing it for weird reasons! just.." you shrugged. "curious to see what happens, i guess? i dunno how to explain.."

he sighs, shaking his head. his hand reaches out to ruffle your hair with a grin. "you're lucky you're adorable. fuck it, why not?"

you grin, leaning closer to him, giving his cheek a kiss. "knew you'd come around. come to think of it, i bet you will jerk off to it first."

his eyes narrow at you and he scoffs. "that confident, huh?"

"with how hot you think i am and all? totally."

"like you don't think i'm hot too. wanna bet, sweets?"

"definitely. ground rules: don't touch yourself. and no touching each other. and i mean holding hands, hugs, and kisses. not just feeling each other up."

"tch, fine," katsuki scoffs. "no looking away to calm down. only when we talk. winner gets braggin' rights and loser lives with the eternal knowledge that the winner is better."

"fine," you scoff back. "you're gonna give in first, 'nyway. since you can’t go a single morning without pulling me into bed again."

katsuki's eyes narrow at you again, this time pouting at you with his cheeks flushed. "says the brat clingier than a damn koala after sex."

"oh, you're so on."

but little did you know, this would be harder than you thought.

you've set up your laptop on the coffee table across the couch, scrolling through the mediocre home page porn in incognito as you sit next to your boyfriend.

you were almost reluctant to continue but knowing him, he would definitely egg you on about being a coward. because one thing about your boyfriend, katsuki, was that he really wanted to win at everything.

"wanna watch?" you look at katsuki with a grin, the video on display captioned: "I hope the NEIGHBOURS were pleased with WHAT THEY SAW!", the preview of the video showing a couple standing by the window, fucking. it wasn't really your thing but you wanted to see how he'd react.

katsuki glances at the laptop before giving you a skeptical look, his tone firm. "fuck no."

"why not? whats wrong with it?"

"just.. no," he shakes his head, a sly grin slowly creeping onto his face as he looks at you. "one second. technically haven't started yet, yeah?"

he leans in, his lips meeting your cheek in a soft, quick kiss before pulling back. his fingers linger, stroking your cheek in a gentle, affectionate gesture. "just pick somethin' else, sweets."

you roll your eyes while wearing a fond grin. you're almost tempted to call him out on how affectionate he was but you didn't want him to stop. you couldn't help but find it endearing and cute.

but after awhile, you and katsuki realize pornhub's terrible acting and weird angles wasn't really working.

"no, too weird. it looks awkward. and fake."

"no, the guy is givin' me the ick. looks homeless."

"no, it looks.. painful. why is it so stretched?"

"no. wait, you're into that? i'm not opposed to it, i just think it looks weird when they do it. just sayin', if you wanna try it.."

so, you go on twitter, looking for porn accounts and already finding better alternatives.

finally, your eyes settle on a compilation of video captioned: "breeding selection 🖤" , the previews of the videos showing various faceless girls getting fucked sloppily and creampied by their partner.

this was it. it wasn't exactly your best plan but you were depedent on him getting turned on by the video and your mere presence to win the bet. and if anything turned him on, it would be the thought of breeding his pretty little girlfriend.

you glance at him from the side, taking in his relaxed demeanor as he leans back with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the laptop as if there wasn't porn on the screen.

"this good with you, boyfie?"

he looks at you and fuck, you can practically feel the heat radiating from his gaze. his eyes rake over you, taking in every curve and contour of your body with a hungry look, like he's undressing you with his eyes, imagining what he'd do to you.

"mhm, 'ts fine."

you nod, going back to the laptop to play the video, stupidly thinking: there was no way he'd be able to play dirty, especially when he can't touch you. but no.

the video plays, only a few seconds showing the girl's rear. the guy squeezes her ass, the cum dripping out of her pussy and in between her swollen folds, down to her thighs as he plays with her ass.

and you know what katsuki does? this man talks you through it, saying the most filthy, lewd shit with a cheeky grin. this man plays dirty by talking dirty.

"goddamn. see the cum, just drippin' out of her? bet you want me fill you up real bad now, don't you? wanna recreate that with me, sweets?"

your thighs clench involuntarily, your body betraying your inner desire. you stare back at him with a glare, feeling a familiar ache settle between your legs. "we do that on a daily basis, katsuki."

"'m just sayin'," katsuki grins, thinking: perfect. you're getting horny. "the idea of pumpin' you full, watchin' my cum drip out of you.."

he was just so desperate to see you rub your clit silly so that he can do it too without admitting defeat. his dick was huge but his pride could compete.

you clear your throat, glaring at his cheeky grin before quickly playing the next video. it's longer, around 8 minutes. it has a better angle, showing the guy's dick disappearing in and out of the girl's pussy, her doughy ass hitting his abdomen. he slams into her as she moans softly around his cock, sticky from their shared slick.

you feel hot and tight in your own skin, your throat going dry. you felt your sore nipples harden as you painfully clench down on nothing, tempted to just subtly grind against the couch for a second. fuck. it hasn't even been 5 minutes yet you were so, so wet.

your boyfriend noticed. and he certainly wasn't of any help.

"shit," katsuki leans down close enough to whisper in your ear, his breath hitting your skin, but far away enough so that he wasn't touching you. "you wet already, sweets?"

"i'm not. shut up and watch the damn porn."

"aww, don't be like that. look at my pants, baby, c'mon."

you bite your bottom lip before your eyes reluctantly dart down to his pants. fuck. his boner was so fucking obvious, it didn't help that he was wearing grey sweats. you were already picturing him naked, imagining how your cunny would look like taking in his dick.

"see? i'm so fuckin' hard for you, baby, it hurts," he sighs, looking at the tent in his pants before whispering in your ear. "don't you wanna take care of me, hm?"

a small sigh escapes your lips as you try to steady your breathing, your eyes darting everywhere but at katsuki. your thoughts consumed by the sight of him, despite your attempts to remain composed.

"you're mean," you huff.

"baby, c'mon. i'll take real good care of you, i promise," he grins at you. "just gotta touch me, yeah?"

you pout again before your eyes return to the screen, thinking your only solution was to ignore him.

although, it wasn't any help as you watched the cum drip out of the girl's pussy before he fucks it back into her, when you wanted nothing more than for him to do the same to you.

he put some distance, and you thought: okay. some time to calm yourself down. but just when you thought katsuki couldn't outdo himself, you hear the ruffling of pants, looking down to see him stripping himself of his clothes.

you look up at him as you feel your face get hot from embarrassment. "hey, what are yo-"

"hm?" he looks back at you, blinking innocently. he throws his clothes unceremoniously somewhere, leaving him in only his boxers as he holds his hands up in surrender. "what? it's hot, sweets. this doesn't count 'nyway, right? besides, 'm not touchin' anythin'."

you huff, pouting at him with a glare, trying not to admire his muscles. that's the game he wanted to play? you glanced down again, a clear fucking mistake. you almost felt drool down your chin as you admired his body, tempted to take his boxers off and just go wild—

you swallowed, looking back up at him. you get an idea. if you can't beat them, then... "you wanna play that game? fine."

you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head, revealing your bare skin to his eyes. tossing the shirt aside, you slowly tug down on your shorts, sliding them down your legs until you're left standing in just your bra and panties.

katsuki's jaw tightens and his muscles tense the moment you started undressing. he clenched his fists, the effort it takes him not to pounce on you was almost physically painful. he takes in the sight of your nearly naked body, his mouth going dry at the sight of you in your bra and panties.

the porn playing on the laptop is long forgotten as he stares at you. because fuck porn when he has such a gorgeous girl right in front of him. his girl.

"the hell are you doin'?" his voice is strained, getting the courage to look away with flushed cheeks. his eyes dart back to the screen, focusing with his arms crossed.

"hm?" you look up at him, blinking innocently like he did. you put your clothes away somewhere and held your hands up in surrender, like he did. "relax. its hot for me too. besides, doesn't count, right?"

"damn it. doesn't count but it's damn well torture."

"what's stopping you from fucking me, hm?"

"you know damn well whats stoppin' me. quit testin' me or i swear to god, i'm gonna fuck you so hard after this."

you laugh, trying to ignore the ache in between your legs as a cheeky smile plays on your lips. "'m just saying. i bet it'd feel really good, y'know. having you inside of me..."

his teeth clench at your words, his hands clenching into fists to keep himself in check. "goddamn it. baby, you're killin' me here."

"bub... all you gotta do is touch me and i can make the pain go away."

"sweets... why are you torturing me?" he groans, his hands clenching onto the couch as he glares at you.

"i want you. fuck, i need you. damn it, you've seen how fuckin' hard i am. so why are you makin' me wait, hm?" his voice is low, almost whining about how much he craves you. how needy he is to be inside you.

"i wanna win too," you bite your bottom lip, almost tempted to fold.

"fuck," he grits out, his eyes closing briefly as he runs his hand through his hair. he looks at you again, his gaze filled with frustration and need. "sweetheart.. you're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

a sly smile spreads across your lips as you lean in closer to him, just close enough that your breath tickles his skin, but not touching him. you were getting there. on top of him not making eye contact, you could've sworn his boner twitched.

"i know. but... please take care of me, katsuki," you whispered, hearing his breath hitch as yours fans across his skin. "i know you wanna."

his eyes darken as he looks down at you, his resolve almost wavering. "oh, i do. i really do, sweets."

that's the last thing you hear before katsuki is finally on you, his movements quick and urgent as he slams his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he's starving, his lips hot and angry against yours, desperate to have his fill of you but take out his frustration on you too.

katsuki pulls away, glaring at you before helping you out of your soaked panties as you help him out of his boxers, his hard cock springing out and stood at his abdomen.

"wanna take care of me that badly, huh?" you grin, reaching for his cock, stroking it up as you thumb his throbbing tip leaking with pre.

his breath hitches, hissing before he reaches down your folds and rubs your swollen clit, your soft moans echoing in his ears. "shut the fuck up. you won't even be able to think, after i'm done with you."

katsuki grunts, aligning himself inside of you, gasping at the softness of your wet, velvet walls. and as he thrusts his cock into your dumb little cunny, he recreates exactly what happened in those videos.

"whats the matter?" he taunts in your ear as he folds your legs near your shoulders, fucking you into mating press. his body covers yours completely, you can feel his weight pressing down on you. "you fuckin' wanted this, right?"

"a-ah, i do..." you gasped, sore nipples feeling the skin of his pecs. "you're just.. mad i won.."

"hah? you callin' me a sore loser?"

"if— oh... if the condom... fits."

suddenly, you squealed from the sudden thrust, whimpering as he slams his cock deeper inside of you, almost kissing your cervix as you feel his balls slapping against your folds.

"won't fuckin' fit 'nyway cause i'm fuckin' you raw— shit," he gasps, desperately rutting himself into you, chasing your release and his. "feels so fuckin' tight, sweets, holy shit..."

"katsukiii," you moaned his name, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he fucks you dumb. "i-i can't, anymore, please—"

"shhh, you can take it," he huffs before leaning down to give you an affectionate, reassuring kiss. his lips soft and gentle against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.

he draws back from the kiss, his lips leaving yours with a soft, wet pop. "you can take it, can't you, baby?"

you whine and squirm against him, a desperate, needy sound leaving your lips. you nod, the words failing you in that moment, silently begging him to keep going, to give you more of the pleasure that you need. he smiles at you, leaning down quickly to give your cheek a kiss.

"atta girl," he murmured with pride, kissing down your jawline. his mouth is hot against your skin as he peppers your collar bones and chest with open-mouthed kisses. "that's my girl."

"k-katsuki," you pant, your hips rolling against his as your body begs for the sweet, sweet release that only he can give you. "m-m' gonna.. c-cum.."

"yeah? you gonna cum for me?" he groaned. he wants to see you lose yourself in pleasure. he craves to be the one to bring you to your high. "you wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"please," you whimper, your voice shaky and needy as your eyes meet his pleadingly. "please, yeah, m' gonna cum for you, please just—"

your words cut off as you let out a soft cry, your head tilting back further into the couch as your body trembles with the need to let go, to give in to the pleasure that's threatening to overwhelm you.

"cum for me, sweets," he grunts, his hips rocking against yours. "show me how much you like it when i fuck you like this, c'mon."

and that's all it takes— clenching down on him and burying himself inside of you—and you're both gone.

your body tenses, a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips as you feel him cum inside of you, bodies shaking with the force of your release and his. your hips press against his as he relaxes into you, your nails digging onto his (glorious) back.

katsuki pants, taking a moment to admire you. the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, teetering on the edge from your high as you cling to him. like a koala.

"you did so good, sweets," katsuki murmured. he steadies himself beneath you and pulls his cock out, pressing the tip against your folds, waiting for the moment of his dreams. he almost has hearts in his eyes when he watches the cum drip out of you, going down his tip as he pushes it inside you again. "so damn good."

"i asked if you wanted to recreate those videos," he grins when he hears you gasp, feeling the tip of his cock rub your folds, squirming against him as you bit your lip. "i'll make sure i get all the details right by breeding the shit out of you."

and as the night wares on, you both collapse onto the couch, panting and exhausted, a tangle of limbs wrapped around each other, cuddled up close after having the most mind-numbing sex.

"so.." you look up at him with a lazy smile, laying your head on his chest. "loser lives with the eternal knowledge the winner is better, huh?"

he groaned, closing his eyes for a minute before staring at you as he runs his fingers through your hair. "sweets... you're real fuckin' lucky i love you. otherwise, i really would've went above and beyond and made sure i knocked you up."

"i wouldn't be opposed to that."

katsuki narrows his eyes at you, his fingers flicking your forehead. "don't tempt me, brat."

you rub your forehead with a pout, sticking your tongue out at him. "so mean."

he scoffs, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, gently but firmly pulling your hand away, hovering his lips to where he flicked earlier to give your forehead a soft kiss. "get some sleep, sweetheart."

"fine. i love you too, bub. goodnight."

"tch. love you more, dummy."

and honestly? katsuki doesn't need porn to get his dick hard. not when he has you. his personal porn star, his gorgeous girlfriend, and of course— his favorite person.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ inspired by my ex 🧍🏻‍♀️ hope this was to your liking and i hope you enjoyed, i apologize if it seems too.. lewd? nyways, i'll start working on these requests and the older brother's best friend/ best friend's older brother trope with katsuki (i cannot choose), comment if you wanna be tagged 💜💜

[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

[457gf]

thinking of . . thamgyu x fem!reader drabble

₊˚ʚ warnings : smut, plot what plot, threesome, age gap (reader is 18-20 𝓼 thanos and namgyu r 27ish), naive!reader, manipulation, sort of sexual coercion but the reader likes them, dubcon kinda, reader being ignored, reader being called a few degrading names

a/n : thank you all for the support! i really appreciate it. this isn't the fanfiction that was voted on in a poll, just something i threw together as a little snack whilst working on other requests. please send some more requests in, i love seeing them! enjoy! (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

thinking of . .

thanos and namgyu absolutely wrecking your holes, fucking you back and forth between their cocks whilst they talk about you like you’re not even there.

thanos grabs onto your hips as his fat tip abuses your spongy insides, colored nails making crescent dents into your sensitive skin. loud moans from the two ring out in the room as they babble over each other. namgyu’s pulling his cock out of your mouth to slap it against your cheek a few times, enjoying the tears falling from your eyes from the amount of mixed pain and pleasure you were feeling. the druggie laughed at your wincing from the sticky mixture being rubbed against your innocent face, throwing his head back. he was out of his right mind, that’s for sure.

“fffuck, so goddamn tight. ‘gotta feel her. grippin’ me like such a fucking slut.” thanos completely ignored your own pleasure, and the other man’s too. grabbing a fistful of your locks, and smushing your face against the floor for a better angle to thrust into you from.

“fuckn’ dick,” namgyu scoffed, annoyed at the fact he couldn’t get his own dick wet. “was gonna make her suck me off again. you can’t share?” thanos got everything, because of course he did. toning out the other, he continued the assault on your sopping pussy, eyes practically rolling in the back of his head. the way you sobbed out and asked for him to stop being so rough with you because “it’s not fitting! you’re too big! p ᯇ please, be gentle!”, though you contradicting by rolling your hips, wanting to feel him deeper inside of you, was a dead giveaway that you were enjoying this.

you weren’t sure why you wanted the two’s approval so bad, even though they treated you as if you weren’t there. you were practically a set of holes for the two men, which almost made your heart hammer more. namgyu’s hand found itself wrapped around his cock, tugging on it as he watched his best friend fuck their shared toy. they loved dragging you around as if you were a dog on a leash, so it’s no wonder you ended up in this position. thanos promised he’d protect you in these stupid games, and here you were acting like a slut to repay him. it’s practically what got you in this situation on the dirty bathroom floor in the first place.

“we’ve been nice enough to let you stay with us and keep your ditzy ass safe, the least you could do is repay us.” one of the final few things that was said directly towards you before they began mocking your whole existence, putting you to shame. they called you so many dirty things to each other. a whore, a mutt, their personal cumdump, even just a young set of holes to take their minds off their stress.

you’re basically a never-ending drug for them ! (,,>﹏<,,) ♡