#ANY TIME I PUT SHORT HAIR ON HIM I START TO FEEL DELIRIOUS LIKE HE CAN'T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THISSSS

[mattodore]

okay spoilers for an upcoming edit but you all have to see how pretty theo is in blender rn i feel CRAZYYY

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere Spin-offs

Introducing the photographer

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(Bimbo Fem reader!)

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Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞 mutual masterbation, praise, degradation, coercion, dubious consent, thighjob, cum facial, slight humiliation

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Yandere photographer who asks you upfront to model for him in exchange for a hefty fee. Handing you his business card with his name and address in fine print. His name was Covu, he had dark messy wavy hair which covered his tacky circular glasses showcasing dull emerald green eyes. While his body adorned casual baggy clothing with a professional camera slung across his lean shoulder.

Truth be told Covu had his eyes on you for awhile now, so he knew your day by day schedule. From the countless stakeouts outside your job working as a retail worker. With his prized scrapbook dedicated to you, he jotted down everything from your little quirks, habits, to the overall actions you did throughout the day from the photographs he took of you every instance he gets. And from what he already gathered you fell under the ditzy bimbo category who was so sweet and yet so stupidly naive. The perfect match for him.

The photographer couldn’t help but grow enamored with you in every type of way. From your soft sweet curves to your adorable smile and especially from how you make his hands itch with the urge to take candle lit photographs of you in 69 different lewd positions. So today was the day he approached his lovely model, Covu made sure to take extra care in grooming himself to seem like an functional human being just for you. Even though he still looked like a hot bum he was at the very least a presentable one.

���Hey if you’re ever interested in modeling for me. Ring me up and I’ll pay you however much you’re willing to receive”

Covu’s voice was small but blunt and straight to the point as he stared intensely at you trying to burn the sight of his future private model into his lecherous cold eyes. But before he could turn away to head somewhere else to let you think about it, he was abruptly stopped by a short tug of his arm sleeves.

His heart thumped loudly at the sight of you looking criminally cute. As you brightly accepted the offer from a stranger such as himself right off the bat without any care for your self preservation. Licking his lips he couldn’t help but hide the ravenous smirk that spread from ear to ear at your innocent response.

He could feel artblock magically vanish as artistic inspiration began brewing in his mind all thanks to his dearest bimbo of a model. And boy did he have a lot of ideas in mind so best believe he was going to take advantage and put you to work.

"Oh fuck...you're so fucking sexy. Pose just like that for me."

He mumbled under his breath, his delirious green eyes fixated on your enchanting body as you put on the lingerie. You had agreed to model for him under the pretense that the photos will be used for the catalogue of Victoria secret. Diligently he snapped pictures of you from every delightful angle, paying no mind to the tent he was pitching in his baggy sweats. Until Covu couldn't resist the urge to touch himself, his slender hand palming the bulge as he kept his attention on you.

It was time to have you switch positions,

"Now... For this photo shoot we’re focusing on a erotic theme so I need you to start touching yourself down here babe."

Covu uttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to keep himself under control. The temptation of making you his was driving him crazy. As he reached out and guide your hand to your scantily clothed pussy, from observing your confused expression his fingers trailing over your skin as he gave you a tiny devilish smile. From seeing how flustered you were, oh you were just so endearing he couldn’t help but want to tease you even more.

"Yes that’s it work your fingers and follow the natural curves of your body...don't be afraid to explore. Hmm? Why’s my dick out you say? Well that’s to get the sexy mood going on. I am a pro after all and I want to get only the perfect shots”

He announced shamelessly his voice calm and steady as he furiously jerked off at the sight of you obediently touching yourself as per his detailed instructions. Skillfully multitasking between getting nice shots of you in revealing outfits as he continued to work both you and himself into completion. Feeling himself teetering off the edge Covu gritted his teeth and got closer to you, his cock throbbing with need as he jerked off over your body. You both moaned out loud in his art studio unable to hold back any longer.

He watched with foggy glasses as you laid there breathless your juices dripping down your legs. While his mind was consumed with pornographic images of you covered in rivers of his pearly white cum. Taking extra care to examine the thick globs of his cum sticking on your cheeks as it began to slide down. And without saying a word he gently crouched down in front of you shrugging his camera to the side as he angled your blissed out face towards his giving you a sleazy mean smirk.

“You look gorgeous all glammed up in my cum doll but snap out of it. We still got tons of photoshoots to do”

Covu cooed lazily as he relished the sight of you trying to gather your bearing but ultimately failing when he pressed his cold lips against the column of your neck. Leaving a kiss mark on your skin before pressing his forehead against yours staring deep into your eyes as he said in a soft commanding tone.

“Now for this next photo shoot I want to see you on all fours. Presenting yourself to me like the cute little slut you are.”

Once as you got into position, Covu wasted no time in slotting himself behind you under the pretense of fixing your posture via his long. Yanking his sweats down to sandwich his weeping hard long dick between your sweaty plush thighs. Rutting against you in fluid strokes, he made sure to bump the tip of his throbbing cock against your clothed budding clit. Taking out his phone, he recorded your lewd expressions as he messaged and groped at your jiggling fat tits with his other hand.

“Cmon my pretty model~ you need to arch your back and keep squeezing them thick thighs for me. I’m not one for paying slackers you know?”

He rasped in your ear with a impish grin as he toyed with you by bombarding you with his lewd demands. As he stripped you from your lingerie bra to pinch and pull at your full nipples, rolling them between his two fingers. Covu nipped the nape of your neck with his sharp canines. While he pumped his hips, smacking his pelvis against the fat of your ass as his long dick continued collecting the slick from your wet cunt which constantly dribbled down, covering his shaft.

"That's it, baby... just like that you look so fucking erotic does feeling my dick rub up against your wet cunt turn you on that much?"

He chuckled darkly as his nimble fingers found themselves at the hem of your lacy panties, slowly dragging them to the side exposing your quivering pussy. Using his thumb to press against the winking drenched hole, collecting a string of slick your so he could smear it all over his lips. So that he could smell and taste you when he prepared to take things a step further…

.

.

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Part 2? 👀

[daisyvisions]

[12:43AM] All to Myself - (jc.b)

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), newlywed!Jacob, fem!reader, unprotected sex, breeding, creampies, mentions of multiple orgasms (fingering and oral), drunk sex (if you squint), slight dry humping, a lil manhandling, some good ol’ cock rubbing, lots of kisses, “sweetheart” used. Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: This one’s short this time around but hope you still like it!  been having trouble writing again but this is a good start I think! Proofread once, also tagging @deoboyznet

(p.s. this is a short fic based on a blurb mentioned in this Jacob fic. iykyk 😘)

Thinking about newlywed!Jacob, who stumbles into your hotel suite while attempting to carry you with all his might and whatever’s left of his rational brain. Both of you had been exhausted from all the festivities your wedding day had to offer.

Everything had gone beyond perfect, but as much as he wanted the celebration to never end Jacob could not wait to have you alone all to himself.

Sure you’ve had your fair share of intimate moments together as you were dating, but to finally be able to call you his and to fully love you the way he wanted to… That’s all he could ever think of as soon as he woke up this morning.

He still couldn’t believe that he was finally married to you. Truth be told, he had been wanting to marry you since the day he laid his eyes on you. You were already the prettiest girl in the room, but the moment he truly got to know you, that’s when he knew you were it for him.

You both giggle nonstop from all the champagne you drank running through your system, barely making it to your suite without nearly falling on each other. Both your minds were drifting into a state where you could only think of nothing but your inner desires for one another as you hurried your way back to the suite.

As soon as Jacob sets you down and closes the door he has your whole body instantly pinned against the hard surface. His lips pressing onto the column of your throat, kissing every space he could like it was his last.

Jacob’s kisses were messy, hot, sweet and dirty at the same time and it was making you incredibly delirious. His hands were everywhere trying to grab all the softest parts of your body while your fingers ran through his hair, grinding himself on your thigh as you elicit the softest but incredibly erotic moans known to man.

“Finally get to call you mine.” Jacob whispers as his hands snake behind you to unzip your dress, kissing your shoulder as the straps start to fall.

As soon as Jacob saw you wearing this gorgeous dress at the reception, he had to pull all his willpower just to keep it together. You were so beautiful in your wedding dress, a literal goddess walking down the aisle. But this? He felt himself throb beneath his slacks. He couldn’t wait to get you out of this dress and have his way with you as soon as you were finally alone together.

A trail of clothes were starting to form from the front door to the king sized bed, both of you eager to strip down and just bask in each other’s love. Jacob was like a mad man, you’ve never seen him this feral over you before. And it was getting you wetter by the second.

Jacob doesn’t waste any moment with you under him. Kissing every inch of your skin from top to bottom, praising you like it was something he was born to do, making you chant his name as he touched you like he never had before. Leaving you absolutely breathless after god knows how many orgasms he’s given you tonight from his mouth and fingers alone.

You feel his manhood slipping in and out between your folds as he kisses you passionately, mumbling incoherent words against your lips as his hands gently knead your breasts.

“What did you say?” You pant as he kisses that spot you love below your ear.

“Wanna put a baby in you so bad…” he slurs.

“Fuck Jacob�� Please” You grab his hair tight, making him groan as you feel his cock twitch between your folds. Your moans gradually increasing as you feel the tip nudge your sensitive bud over and over again.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up sweetheart? Fill you up so good ‘til your belly swells up? Hm?” His hot mouth presses against your ear as his fingers pinch your nipples in the process.

The thought of him breeding you and getting you pregnant does nothing but short circuit your brain, leaving any coherent words fading at the back of your mind, making you elicit a very desperate “uh-huh” instead.

You squeal as you suddenly feel him manhandle you. Pulling your legs over his shoulders, hooking his arms under your knees to lock you into position, and instantly folding you into a mating press as his mushroom head eagerly inserts inside your wet entrance. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you both moan from his length slowly fill your entire hole all the way to the base of his cock.

He looks into your eyes lustfully, pulling his length out and slamming it back into you with one thrust, “Good, because I’m gonna keep fucking my cum into you no matter how long it takes.”

And boy did he keep his promise…

[icu-now]

18+ switch!eddie? but mostly sub!eddie x dom!reader, gn!reader

so ... eddie wears boxers, agreed? like he's such a boy ass boy wearing boxer shorts. he has ones with green and blue plaid; or red and navy gingham; and his fanciest pair he owns is plain denim blue (but all bought in value packs). and what you love about them more than getting to take them off heehe is how they peek out of his waistband when he reaches for something above the fridge. the shirt that already sits pretty at the edge of his belt loops with his arms down; lifts just that little bit, and the ruched cotton has you licking your lips at the tuft of hair it flattens. eddie chuckles before you can catch yourself and spill half a spoonful of cheerios and milk on the table.

okkkkk starting to scream now bc getting to take them off ... . . . you two have been making out on wayne's lazy boy for about half of a random def leppard album eddie got a boot leg of. cranked high in his room to hear it comfortably in the living room, you love it how the groans between each of his heavy breaths are amplified as you kiss down his neck. you make sure you've locked his eyes before sliding between his legs, steadying yourself on his quads. you've been palming at the denim around his thighs, hips, and crotch for about two and a half songs now and obviously for eddie that's been ages. he's whining into his shoulder and his knuckles are white clenching at the sides of his thighs wishing you'd touch him. and it's quite embarrassing how loud he gasps when you pop the button of his jeans with just your thumb and forefinger. you trail your fingers between elastic and skin until they meet at his tailbone. and u can feel how giddy he is when he does that little hip lift thing, only for you tug at his beltloops, loosening his jeans anchored by his body weight and leaving his boxers mostly on.

rightfully, you earn a, "babe--heh baby..." from eddie. kneeling between his lap, your hands meet at the crease of his hips, finally touching his hard bulge and you're smirking. you feel his thick cock heavy against his thigh and squeeze a little harder, enjoying how with each pulse of your fingers, eddie thrusts his hips into your chest.

he couldnt hold his hands at his sides anymore and tried palmed himself over your hands, but you tsk'ed them away before he could get any meaningful relief. "aw, honey, how do i know what you want if you don't use your words, huh?" you spit his own words he used on u just last night back at him, revelling in how it feels to be on the other side. eddie is so cute when he's flustered and can't think of anything he wants more than your hands under his boxers. "d'you want me to..." you cup at his balls with one hand, and bring your other to his waistband. "touch you..." you hook a finger under the elastic this time, "under here?" he can't come up with an answer for you other than a furious nod of his blushed face. you release the elastic you pulled taut and it dully snaps back onto the yummy path of hair on his lower stomach. god he's whining so loud and you fucking love how close to tears he is, you throw him a bone and sit up on your knees, kissing his jawline up to his lips. you slip a hand under his boxers as soon as your lips touch, and he almost screams. you massage at the base and slowly work your way up his shaft, preoccupying you, letting eddie slip his tounge past your lips. almost feeling bad about your cruelty, you let him kiss you sloppy as you start to spread his precum over the head of his cock. once you did that, he almost jerked you off of his lap, and that's when you've had enough. you take a step back from the lazy boy, admiring the pair of green and blue plaid he put on today, and yank the cotton clean off his hips to bunch at his knees with his jeans. you look at him through your lashes, biting a smile, and his giggles are delirious in response.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

not proofread! sorry wayne ill get u a new lazyboy!!

a/n hiiiiii this is the first fic ive written in years and my first smutty fic! ive been a long long long time reader and always wanted to write fics to bam first post heheeh ALSO im taking requests! if anyone is reading this lol here's my inbox :)

pls lmk if u liked this :*

[hopelessdazai]

Headcanons and short scenario with night routine chuuya? If you want of course <3

of course anon!! I'd love to :) thank you for all the requests!!

Chuuya nighttime routine headcanons

contents ; gn reader, lots of fluff, he is just so lovesick for u.

chuuya does a lot of skincare before bed. unfortunately he's not blessed with amazing skin and completely zero acne, so he likes to have a little ritual that he does nightly. and he loves when you join in too!

even if he's tired, it's definately a very giggly time for you two. he's cracking jokes while he's preparing to sleep and he's a little delirious on exhaustion so everything's a lot funnier.

he hasn't been working night shifts at the mafia since he started dating you. chuuya spent one night cuddled up to you and that was enough to cause him to go mafia free after 7pm.

he always has to respond to a couple emails before he sleeps, and he doesn't mind your input during them. if anything, he adores watching you point out a typo he made and rephrasing a sentence he wrote to sound more 'professional.'

chuuyas a very sleepy guy. as much as he isn't able to dream, he really treasures any time he gets where he's able to get some shut-eye. and you make him feel so safe and soft that he can't help but feel sleepy around you :((

his early mornings are less frequent. he's a punctual man, and he usually wakes up exactly at 6 to prepare for work. but it's so difficult to leave the bed when you're snuggled beside him so warm and peaceful.

he doesn't put his hair up before bed, but there's an occasional day he'll keep it in curlers for a while. make sure to tease him about looking like a grandma while you can!!

every other day he takes a shower before bed. it's not every single day, and it's not for definate. the mafia exhausts him. though one thing he does look forward to is letting you brush his hair out after.

Scenario ;

"are you done yet?"

you call out to him, getting up from the bed and walking over to the bathroom, where chuuya was in front of the mirror and rubbing some skin cream onto his face.

"not yet, doll. give me a while longer."

he replied softly, drying his hands and going to pick up another bottle of one of the many things he used before bed. you wrap your arms around him, melting into his body.

"Oh, darling."

he mutters, lifting you up and putting you on the countertop, gently kissing your lips as he puts some cream under your eyes, gently working it into your skin. you subconsciously lean into the touch, his hands always worked so well on you.

"you're so sleepy, hm? I've only got one more thing to do, then I promise we can cuddle in bed, okay?"

YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN SO LOVING TO MEEE. I just have to say thank you so much for the likes, follows asks and a dm I received. you're literally all the sweetest people and I didn't think I'd even manage to get 20 likes on anything 😭 - zai <33

[something-tofightfor]

WIP Wednesday Times 3

Three sneaks for 3 different WIPs below the cut. Enjoy.

(One of these is new, and I'm very excited about it.)

On Deck -

“I’ve gotta be honest with you, Jack.” Reaching up, you rubbed at the back of your neck. “This is … It feels a little like…” You didn’t know how to articulate what you were thinking without offending him. But you need to, because if you don’t, this is all over before it begins. “You don’t need to use lines with me. We’re both adults. There’s nothing wrong with  being honest about what this is.”  “What do you think it is?” He leaned in, eyes narrowed slightly. “Because I’m just trying to be -” “You’ve got a little bit of a reputation.” You didn’t hesitate, shrugging as you continued. “Women say you’re a sweet talker. That you lay the charm on. That you know exactly what to say and do to get them… where you want them.” He laughed, the sound bitter as it turned into a sniff followed by a shake of his head. “And I mean it, there’s nothing wrong with that, because there’s nothing wrong with short term, you know? Comes with the territory. I knew that coming here today, and -” “You really think I’m that much of an asshole that I’d ask you out again and then just…” He waved his hand in front of him, still looking out the window. “Feed you some bullshit to try sleep with you?”  “No. I don’t.” You put your face into both hands and then sighed, saying his name. “I’d hope that after the conversation we’ve had tonight, if that was what you wanted, you’d just ask me if I wanted it, too.” That was the truth, but you kept going, figuring that laying all of the cards out on the table was the best possible course of action. “If it’s not, and you really do want to go out again… I have no right to ask you for anything, but …” You trailed off, looking over at him again. “No bullshit, Jack. Flirting is one thing, and I’ve been doing it all night, but … I’m already here. There’s no need to lay it on thick. If there’s something you want from me, just tell me.” 

Fool's Gold -

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when the boat you were in rocked violently that you pried them open, watching as a man came into view slowly. You saw his hands first, fingers adorned with rings clinging to the side of your boat, followed by tanned forearms as he hoisted himself up. The top of his head was next, his dark hair plastered to his skull as he kept his chin down, grunting with the effort it took to climb into the boat.  You stayed motionless as he tumbled in and then sat up, and could barely focus on hs body - the upper half of it encased in a button down shirt that was also molded to the shape of his torso, the collar of it lined in a dark, golden yellow.  He breathed deeply and then turned his head up and toward the sky, giving himself a moment before he lowered his head and finally looked at you. You watched his eyes widen, the man taking in your appearance and parting his lips in shock as he assessed your condition.  You were almost delirious with fatigue, but you still recognized that he was handsome - even waterlogged - and a small part of you was disappointed that you were making such a terrible first impression. Maybe a last impression.  “Thank you.” You whispered the words, slumping over further against the side of the boat. “Thank you for finding me.”  And then unconsciousness took you again. 

Liminality -

Of all the things that you and Frankie had talked about over the weekend, the one you were absolutely certain of was that whatever was going on between you had already reached and passed the point of no return. Promises of protection and help, the way he touched you, the way your body responded to him - the way you wanted to be around him at all times - there was no way to ignore any of it.  He’d broken rules with you from almost the start, beginning with the fact that he’d put his teeth to your throat the night you’d met. Despite the fact that he’d managed to restrain himself somewhat in the weeks between your first time together and his admission, the feeling that he was holding back - and that it was hard for him - had always been there.  “Fuck.”  You spoke to the empty room, bringing both hands up to your face and covering it. Thinking back to his words from that morning - that he’d fallen for you - you nodded slowly. There was no denying it. You’d always believed in the supernatural and had actively hunted werewolves from the age of 18 on, but the truth was that you’d never thought that you were in over your head more than you did when it came to Frankie - and the way you felt about him.   Lowering your hands, you opened your eyes and then looked around again, chewing on your bottom lip. But if I’m in over my head, then so is he. The thought made you smile, your shoulders dropping in relief. We’re in this together. 

[earlgreydream]

mahogany.

| draco x reader | smut |

anon requested. Professor draco ❤️ y/n were in his room just chilling draco reading and y/n getting bored and h-word 🙄 she started to seduce him but he wont give in saying not now blablabla when y/n literally throwing herself to him and he rejects her lol and when y/n touching herself moaning beside him being a brat thats where draco takes control and fucking her like theres no tomorrow

cw: overstim, ‘professor’, masturbation

a/n: I combined these concepts and changed a bit but I hope you love ❤️

“Draco, can’t you take a break? I’ve been waiting all day,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood behind him.

“I’ve got to grade these papers, darling.” Draco spoke, kissing your hand before his focus drifted back to the papers. Yours had already been graded, a nearly perfect score with only tiny corrections in the margins.

.

You’d been secretly dating your potions professor for almost a year. Draco Lucius Malfoy was the youngest, hottest, and smartest professor at Hogwarts, and you’d become instantly enamored with him. All the girls whispered about the young slytherin prince who had returned to teach the class he excelled at.

Your love was scandalous and fiery, and full of love and adoration. Draco was a bit older, and the role of a caring dominant suited him well, guiding you and teaching you. You adored him, and wanted to do everything to make him happy. Typically, you were a well behaved girlfriend, but today he wasn’t so lucky.

You were needy, horny, and you desperately wanted to be fucked. Draco had been overly busy with grading exams and papers, leaving you with less attention.

.

You sat on his desk beside where he worked, absentmindedly undoing the buttons on your uniform top. Draco ignored you, his eyes trailing along lines of script about potion ingredients. His glasses rested delicately on the bridge of his slender nose, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows as the room warmed.

You reached out and dragged your fingers through his silky white hair, freeing it from the messy bun it had been tied back in.

“Not now, I’ve got to grade,” Draco hummed, squeezing your thigh.

You tossed your shirt on the floor, knowing once he was giving you any ounce of attention, you’d get scolded for. When he didn’t look up, you dropped your bra with it, desperate to get his attention.

“Professor Malfoy?” You whined, gently grasping his jaw and tilting his head up to look at you.

Draco immediately dropped his pen, utterly astounded by the sight of you. You were perched on the desk, wearing just your short little uniform skirt that had ridden up around your waist, and thigh high socks. Your tits were out, on full display for him. Your distraction was working, but your bratty attitude compelled him to deny you a bit longer.

“I just want you to touch me, please,” your sweet voice was lilted with need, and Draco shifted in his chair as his trousers grew tight.

“I know you do, pretty girl, but I’m not finished working.”

“But Professor Malfoy, m’not wearing any panties,” you said softly, flipping up your skirt and showing him your bare skin that was glistening with desire.

He stared at you for a moment, letting his eyes travel along your body and land on your puffy little pussy, that was throbbing from how badly you wanted him. He glanced back up at your eyes before turning back to the papers, wishing more than ever he didn’t have to work.

You were horrified that Draco left you untouched, picking his pen back up and resuming his work. He had to bite back the smirk, amused by your annoyed gasp.

You gave up on him then, deciding to take care of yourself. You stayed beside him, parting your legs and leaving your skirt flipped up. You set one socked foot on his thigh for leverage and slowly started to dip your fingers into your folds. Your touch moved delicately over your skin, drawing tight circles on your clit until you were dripping onto Draco’s desk.

Soft whines were strained in your throat, and Draco swallowed his own moan. He forced himself not to watch you, but the sound of your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy tore all of his attention from his work.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched him drop his pen and slide the stack of papers into a drawer, clearing his desktop.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he tugged his sweater off. Your own fingers didn’t come close to reaching the tender places that his could, and you were desperate for him.

Draco sat back in his chair, palming himself through tight black boxers as he watched you finger yourself, your thighs jolting when you brushed your spongey walls.

“Draco, please help me,” you begged, sliding your fingers out when he stared at you.

“I will be glad to help you after you make yourself come.”

“No, I want you.”

“Don’t be bad now, darling. Let me watch you play with that pretty little pussy.”

Draco feigned a sympathetic smile at your whimpers, pulling your legs open farther to inspect your movements. You felt surveyed, like Draco was inspecting your performance.

You pouted at Draco, and he tiled his head to the side. You tried reaching for his hand, and he pushed his chair back a bit more. He was amused by your needy drama, but he was nearing to the end of his patience.

“If you don’t make yourself come in the next five minutes, you don’t get to come at all for the next week, darling.”

You flashed a hurt look, but his gaze was stern, eyes dark with lust. When you hesitated to move, Draco glanced down at his watch, silently daring you to test him.

Your fingers moved down to your clit, trying to get off for your boyfriend. You tensed as the pressure built, and you fell back on your elbows. Draco watched your tits bounce as you drew ragged breaths in your chest, overwhelmed from the pleasure reverberating through you.

“That’s my girl,” Draco praised you, moving in and lightly kissing your swollen clit. You jumped at the contact, startled by the stimulation.

“Darling, you’ve made such a mess on my desk,” he scolded with a smile, watching you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

He gently pushed you to lay back against the wooden desktop, hard and cold under your mostly nude body. You grinned as he undressed, parting your legs and putting your feet on the desk.

Draco dragged your hips to the edge, immediately pushing into your slick pussy. Your overstimulated cry encouraged Draco, who held your hips down as he railed you.

Draco went as rough and fast as he could, fucking you into delirious ecstasy. Your professor satiated your every desire, fucking you braindead on his desk.

“Going to let me come inside this tight little cunt, darling?” Draco asked, his hand pinning your wrists above your head.

“Yes, professor,” you murmured, playing into the taboo of your relationship.

Your walls fluttered around Draco, closing down on him tightly as he forced you to orgasm for the second time, his touch pure electricity on your clit.

He mouthed wet kisses along your breasts, feeling your breath shudder and your back arch off of the mahogany.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” Draco hissed into your soft skin, throbbing inside of you.

Draco’s loud moan echoed in your ears and the sharpness of his teeth against your skin made you shudder. Hot white ribbons were painting your walls, thick and warm. He pulled you up against his chest, holding you close as he filled you with his spend.

“Draco, oh my god,” you gasped, dragging your fingers through his fine hair.

“I want you to feel me dripping out of you for hours,” he growled into your shoulder, leaving another mark on the skin there.

You were feeble in his arms, overstimulated and worn out. His lips pressed kisses to your face, and he got the two of you into a generous hot bath.

Loving hands washed the day from your body, attentive to everywhere you were sensitive. Draco whispered to you and kissed your lips, being extra gentle.

“I won’t be so busy this weekend. We can have a night in, no papers to grade, all my attention on you,” Draco suggested.

“Yes please.”

“Maybe I can make you work for an A then,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours and making you giggle.

[gingersnaaps]

sandman

to be taken by sleep really isn't such a bad thing - not when osamu's the one waiting in your dreams.

wc: 3.2k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, dubcon, creampie, breeding mentions, penetration, fingering, sex dreams, sleep paralysis, incubus!osamu vibes, vaguely supernatural, you fall asleep forever at the end, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @ultimate-astridwriting's wonderful collab and inspired by my recent stint of sleep deprivation also i feel like i may have strayed a bit from the prompt but oh well

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

You can’t recall when Miya Osamu first started appearing in your dreams.

It was a subtle thing at first: the features of strangers, normally blurred beyond recognition, melded into his half-lidded eyes and soft smile, and you’d catch glimpses of his face in the reflection of windows and out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t think too much of it. You’d read an article somewhere that mentioned how faces in one’s dreams came from the interactions in our real lives, and with how much you’d been frequenting his onigiri shop, you suppose that his appearances were to be expected.

Still felt a little strange for you to be having a dream so intimate, though.

You’re lying on top of his broad chest, one arm on your waist, the other resting gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs tender circles into your skin, stroking softly as you rise and fall with the movement of his chest.

“‘Miya?” you ask tentatively. “How did I end up here?”

He chuckles. It’s a deep, rich, sound, one that reminds you of rivers running steady and full moons in the countryside, the vibrations passing from his body to yours. When he speaks, his voice is low and a little quiet, but with his lips grazing your ear, you don’t miss a single word.

“Call me Osamu.”

The familiarity leaves your face slightly flushed, embarrassment tingling across your skin. He shifts you around in his arms, tilting your body so that you meet his warm, inviting, gaze. The hand on your thigh seems to burn red-hot, and you wonder if he can hear the heartbeat pulsing just inches away from his fingertips.

He smiles softly at you. “You’re a beautiful girl.”

Your heart seizes, malfunctions, pounds erratically-

You wake up in the dark, damp sheets clinging to your skin, heart skipping like a schoolgirl and drunk off the compliment from your dream.

There’s a bad ache in between your legs. You trail a hand down your front, fingers sliding into your pajama shorts to quell your want.

-

Dusk is falling across Tokyo when you head to Miya’s - no, Osamu’s - onigiri shop. Twilight makes giants of the pedestrians, stretches out the shadows that loom tall in the soft gray-orange of the setting sun, the darkened shapes scurrying through the city’s rush hour.

Unlike them, you’re not going home.

A busy schedule meant little time for home-cooked meals, and the food here really was excellent. When you push open the door to his shop, the jangle of a bell sounds somewhere above you, and Osamu barely looks up before a smile settles on his face.

“The usual, I suppose,” he says, beckoning you inside.

You nod gratefully. The atmosphere of the shop is comforting - there’s just a few customers trickling through, picking up their to-go order that he’s prepared. You pick a seat near the window, one that gives you an unobstructed view of the sunset outside.

The chatter dies down as the last customers leave the shop, their onigiri clutched in hand, and a peaceful silence descends on the space around you. He brings out your food just a few minutes later, setting the dish in front of you.

“As requested by my favorite customer,” he says, a wry grin on his face. “Glad to have you back tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at the closeness between the two of you, and you suddenly feel embarrassed - ashamed of how much you’d been thinking about him, of the dreams you’d been having, of the way his touch had left you wanting for more in those same dreams - but it’s a good kind of embarrassed, one that leaves excitement bubbling in your core.

It feels a bit like a crush.

“Couldn’t miss out on the food, could I?” you reply.

“So you’re only here for my onigiri.”

“I- no, of course not."

“Just teasing.”

He smiles crookedly, and for just a moment, there’s a knowing glint that flashes in his eyes - the kind of expression that makes it seem like he’s aware of more than he’s letting on - but it vanishes almost immediately, passing too quickly for you to be sure of anything.

He turns to go back inside the kitchen, lifting up a hand casually to wave goodbye. “See you soon.”

-

Upon your arrival home, the first thing you notice is how very tired you are.

It’s not too out of the ordinary - it was a Monday afternoon, after all, and that had always been your least favorite day of the week - but the minute you crash onto the couch, your eyelids seem to droop with sleep, limbs growing heavy as the room around you swirls into a half-conscious haze.

You’ve still got chores to take care of. There’s dishes from the morning to wash, laundry to fold and put away, a few work emails to respond to that were probably very important, but you just can’t seem to stave off the overwhelming fatigue that seeps through your veins and numbs your entire body.

You need to sleep.

So you let it happen. You let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself relax and melt into the soft cushions of the couch, let your mind go nice and blank and empty.

After you give up the struggle of staying awake, the dreams come quickly.

“Glad to have you back so soon.”

The warm, quiet, voice from yesterday rumbles somewhere above you. You’re laying on his chest again, ear pressed to the soft fabric of his faded black shirt. You make a small, confused, noise, but he just laughs, gently brushing aside your hair, a hand trailing down your body and creeping closer to your inner thigh.

His touch feels electric. Every brush of his fingertips against your thigh, feather-light and teasing, leaves you with your heartbeat thudding in your cunt.

“We’ve gotta get you ready,” he murmurs. “Prep you well enough so that you’ll feel good when the time is right.”

You clench around nothing at his words, and maybe he can feel it with his hand so dangerously close to your pussy, because he smiles lazily and asks, “Are you that desperate?”

You’re not sure whether you should deny it - he can probably tell you are, anyway, but the thought of nodding, of saying yes, ‘Samu, want it so fucking bad - it leaves you with your cheeks flushed hot with shame.

He doesn’t need your explicit confirmation to read the way your body twitches against his, though, and he moves his hand lower to cup around your pussy. His palm is warm, the pressure steady and constant as he holds his hand still against your throbbing cunt. You can’t help but squirm against him, sloppily grinding your clit against his waiting hand, bucking your hips back and forth for any friction you can get. You’re panting, breaths quick and shallow as you feel the drag of the cotton panties in between his skin and yours, and a lewd moan tumbles from your lips. “Touch me,” you mumble, voice thick with arousal.

You look so pretty down there, hair mussed and mouth open slack in a perfect o, getting off all by yourself - he should give you a hand, shouldn’t he?

He nudges your damp panties aside, the thin fabric creasing the fat of your pussy as he brings a thumb up to your clit. His ministrations start slow, circling your clit patiently while you writhe from the pleasure, just barely dipping his index finger into your hole, his long, dextrous fingers skilled and patient as he works to search out the sensitive spots that leave you gasping and delirious.

“I want you dripping,” he says softly, sliding his finger inside all the way to the base of his knuckle. “Want you spread out on my hand, soaking me through, wet enough for me to fuck you full.”

You shudder with anticipation at his words, hips wriggling and rutting against his stiffening cock as his finger drags along the ridges of your g-spot. Every movement of his is accompanied by an embarrassingly audible squelching noise, your cunt already swollen and hot with arousal, your slick running in a cool trail down the crease of your thigh.

He flicks his thumb against your clit, this time more harshly. “ ‘m gonna fill you up so good when you’re ready,” he whispers. “Fuck you until your pussy milks my cock dry.”

Your eyelids flutter, a rush of pleasure crashing down on you as he pops another finger inside. Your hand fists at his shirt weakly, grabbing and pawing at the fabric as he curls his fingers just right inside you.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”

You wake up from your dream as an orgasm ripples through your body, eyes flying wide open as you squirm and thrash on the couch. The pleasure coiling tight inside your core unwinds, pulsing in your cunt as you moan.

The room is dark and empty.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, vision bleary as you reach for your phone - it reads 7:00 AM. You’ve slept for almost twelve hours.

As you get up, swinging your legs off the couch and righting yourself, you notice one intense, overwhelming, feeling that roots you to the couch and leaves your limbs limp and loose:

You still feel so tired.

-

The rest of the week seems to pass by in a blur. You’re so exhausted you can barely think straight, stumbling from your office to your home - and sometimes to Osamu’s onigiri shop - going about your life half-dazed and barely conscious.

The only respite you get is in sleep.

Your dreams have gotten particularly intense as of late, head clouding full of visions where you’re fucked in every position: shoved up against the wall, facedown in the mattress, and even hoisted up on the counter. Through it all, there’s one constant.

Miya Osamu features in every single one of them.

You know his voice by heart now, a low, quiet, rumble that both soothes you and sets your cunt thrumming with anticipation. His silver-gray hair, his round, half-lidded eyes, the softness and the warmth of his body - they’re as familiar to you as your own features by now. You’re pretty sure you’ve even memorized the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.

In every dream, he whispers the most tantalizing promises in your ear, breathing promises of how he’s gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart, gonna fill you up, gonna breed this pretty pussy until you’re carrying my seed inside you.

And even though you never wake up well rested anymore, you find that you don’t particularly mind. After all, there’s not much you look forward to in your waking hours. Every grating hour you spend working your stupid little job, or attending your lengthy, useless, lectures - it all feels like you’re just going through the motions, like you’re just trying to make it through so that night falls sooner and he can finally come visit you.

The week comes and goes, and soon enough, it’s already Friday.

You stumble in through the front door, a yawn itching at your throat, and you head straight for your bedroom. You pass by the ever-growing stack of dirty dishes in the sink, the stack of bills on the countertop, the laundry you’ve left in the drying machine. You’ll get to it next week.

For now, you just want to sleep.

The bedroom is gloomy and dim, grey light from an overcast twilight filtering through the blinds. The room feels stuffy in the dark, the four walls suffocating the small space, but you don’t bother with turning on the lights. Why would you, when you plan on heading straight to sleep?

You undress clumsily, almost tripping as you pull off your pants and shrug off your blouse, and stagger into the soft, warm, embrace of your bed.

A warm burst of comfort surges through you as the familiar feeling of drowsiness overtakes you. Your eyelids grow heavy, lashes fluttering slightly, the thump of your heart slowing - you’re right on the precipice between the conscious and the unconscious, straddling the border between sleep and waking -

You hear a voice sound from shadowy recesses of your room.

It’s a voice you’d recognize anywhere.

“I missed you at my shop today.”

You open your mouth to respond, but no noise comes out. It’s as if your vocal cords have been plucked from your throat, your voice frozen somewhere deep inside your trachea, and the only sound you can make is that of silence. A bit belatedly, you realize that you can’t move either, your limbs settling uselessly at your side as you lie paralyzed on your back.

A head of gleaming, silver, hair emerges in front of you, and your breath catches in your throat. You’re not sure if this is a dream anymore.

You blink once, and suddenly, you find him in your bed. He’s hovering above you, arms pressed to either side of your head, gazing down with a hungry, hungry, expression. He’s waited all week for this, sweetheart - won’t you finally indulge him?

He pulls the comforter aside, large hands gliding over your body and hoisting up your hips. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands, limp and immobile, and he rearranges your limbs and positions you until he gains easy access to your ready, waiting, cunt - the same cunt that he’s been preparing all week.

He drags a finger through your slick folds, already wet and sticky from the ministrations of the previous few days. There’s no need to bother with prep. He can already feel the way your cunt pulses at his touch, can see the need etched into the gleam of your eyes even as the expression on the rest of your face remains frozen.

His hand glides over his clothed cock, strained and throbbing with need as he pulls it out and strokes slowly, eyes fixated on your body the entire time. His dick is big, flushed almost purple as cream beads at the tip, balls fat and full and heavy.

Osamu’s had enough of waiting.

With a groan, he pops his cockhead into your drooling, twitching, hole, pushing in steady, thrusting all the way into your tightening cunt until he hits your cervix.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, face scrunched with pleasure. “So tight it feels like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

He rolls his hips slowly, dragging his cock along the front of your walls, the ridge of a vein pressing right into your sweet spot. Your legs twitch uselessly as he pulls halfway out before slamming his cock back in.

“I wonder if you’d like that,” he muses. He brings a thumb to rest at your puffy, swollen, clit, pressing down in steady circles, his touch unrelenting and firm, sending spasms of pleasure that leave you clenching and gripping down onto his thick cock.

“I think you would. I think you’d love it if I filled you up, if I fucked you full of cum and bred this tight little hole,” he says, the barest hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips. His voice is calm and steady - a striking contrast to his filthy words, his brazen promises.

His slow, steady, strokes quicken, hips slamming roughly into yours, each thrust satiating the want in your cunt. Your walls pulse as if they need to be filled, squelching lewdly as he fucks you hard and deep.

He leans down. His lips hover millimeters away from your forehead, just barely grazing your skin with tender, light, kisses. “Take it,” he whispers, thumb rubbing harshly at your clit. “Take it like a good girl for me. I know you can.”

The kisses he presses to your forehead start to travel down the underside of your jaw, soft little nips and bites with his blunt teeth that leaves a trail of his glossy spit on your face. His mouth finds your ear.

“When I cum, you better not waste a single drop,” he breathes. “Wanna fill you up, make you mine. I want to own this pussy.”

He brings his hand down to pat your stomach where your womb would be, rubbing the soft surface of your skin in tender circles. His balls are aching so badly - he needs to cum, needs that release, needs to stuff your messy cunt.

“Cum with me,” he urges. “Right now.”

The pleasure pulsing inside you draws taught - snaps - and you’re pushed over the edge. If you were still capable of speaking and moving, you’re sure you’d be moaning loudly, hips twitching uselessly as he creams your pussy over and over. He fucks you through your orgasm, spent cock softening inside you as you squeeze his dick. After all, he doesn’t want any of it to leak. He wants it sloshing around in your hole, filling you up until you’re warm and wet and sticky, wants to breed you, to mark you down as his.

You look beautiful with your insides stained white, he thinks.

You can feel your cunt twitching slightly as you come down from your high. He smiles warmly, gives your pussy a little pat -

You blink and he’s gone.

Almost as if he was never there in the first place.

Sleep takes you quickly after that. You’re exhausted from being fucked, exhausted from the constant stimulation, and you quickly fall fast asleep. All is silent and still in your darkened bedroom.

-

The next day, right as the sun starts to drop over the horizon, glinting stars nestled in the sky high above, you find yourself back in front of Osamu’s onigiri shop.

It’s partly due to the hunger gnawing in your stomach, but it’s more out of curiosity than anything. You need to know if it’s real, if he’s real, if the past two weeks were nothing but a fever dream.

And you really want to see him again.

As you push open the door to his shop, you’re greeted with his friendly smile, as usual.

“Same thing again?” he asks.

“Of course.”

The exhaustion hasn’t gone anywhere. You’re still constantly tired, always drifting off during the daytime, limbs weary and worn. When you sit yourself down at the usual spot - the table near the window - that irresistible fatigue seems to creep up on you again.

It’s so calm and comforting in his little shop. The lights are warm, the view is pretty, the quiet chatter of his few customers soothing to your ears. It’s so easy to rest your head in between your hands, shoulders slumping, mind empty of every little unimportant thought, so easy to just close your eyes, so easy to fall into the rose-tinted haze of your nice, pleasurable, dreams.

Osamu comes out of the kitchen in the back of the shop, carrying your food on a plate, and finds you fast asleep with your head on his table.

He’s not surprised. In fact, he’s quite pleased.

In fact, if he has his way, you’ll never have to wake up again.

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[dudeandduchess]

Baseball Player!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: ❌📛🔞Locker Room Fun🔞📛❌ (Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) visits her husband during training, and is in for a surprise when he makes the most of things… in the locker room.

Note: After a while of thinking, I decided to finally pick this back up. Also, I didn’t have much time to research, so the description for the stadium’s interior is based solely on my experience. 😅

Warnings: Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Mild D/s Themes, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Loud Sex, Mild Sadism, Semi-Public Sex

***

If (Y/n) were to take a guess, she would say that Kyōjurō was doing what he was doing just to tease her. From the way that his ass looked so good in those pants, to the way that he would stretch his arms up over his head and show off his muscles— she had to admit that he looked scrumptious.

Tasty enough to make her bite down on her bottom lip, as she squeezed her legs together to alleviate the need building between her thighs.

But, as far as she knew, Kyōjurō couldn’t have known that she was there— since her visit was supposed to be a surprise. That fact made it so that Kyō wasn’t doing anything on purpose; he was just that naturally sexy.

Especially with the way that his uniform clung to him, and the way that a few strands of his hair peeked out from beneath the cap he wore. Everything about him had (Y/n) fighting back her lust, and she was barely winning.

However, when Kyōjurō spotted her in the stands, he gave her a cheeky grin and wave— as well as a saucy wink— that had her practically swooning in her seat. It was just fortunate that she was good at keeping a poker face, otherwise everyone would have known just how flustered she felt inside.

And with the way that he started stretching his legs, and squatting on the field… (Y/n) swore that Kyōjurō was really trying to get mauled, by her specifically. Unfortunately for him, his wife had more self control than he gave her credit for.

If anything, he was the insatiable one when it came to sex.

So, instead of outwardly feeding into his provocation, (Y/n) merely clenched her thighs tighter together; simultaneously wishing for Kyōjurō’s practice game to drag on, and be over already— because it meant she could either keep on ogling his sexy ass, or she could finally get the kiss that she’d been craving since after he left that morning.

An hour and a half later though, the game was already over with Kyōjurō’s team winning with a two-point lead. Cheers were thrown around, as well as friendly thumps on each other’s shoulders— yet Kyōjurō merely grinned at his teammates and threw a wave over his shoulder, before dashing towards the ground railings and lifting himself up onto the bleacher area with ease.

He even found himself taking the stairs two at a time— like that would help him get to his wife faster. Meanwhile, (Y/n) got out of her seat and met him halfway; arms wide open as her husband wrapped his own arms around her waist and hugged her tightly to his chest.

“I missed you, baby!” And without so much as a care about their spectators, Kyōjurō leaned in and slanted his lips against his wife’s delectable mouth. He even went saucier and opened his lips to snake his tongue between her lips— loving the way that she immediately gave in to his whim.

From below, they could hear whistles and cat calls, yet they paid it no mind. Rather, (Y/n) couldn’t focus on anything else except Kyōjurō’s lips sucking on her tongue, as well as his hands making their way down to her ass. And, unmistakably, she could feel his cock slowly getting hard against her.

“I can tell, Kyō,” (Y/n) answered with a cheeky grin, catching her breath during the reprieve that her husband had given her. “I can help you out with that… at home.”

“I can’t wait that long, (Y/n). I want you so bad,” Kyōjurō whispered heatedly, cupping her ass in his hands and pushing his erection more insistently against her body. He would have given in and just fucked her right there, especially with how tempting she looked from the moment he saw her, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be fined for indecent exposure.

So, as if a lightbulb went on in his head, Kyōjurō put a stopper on his overflowing need for his wife, and blurted out, “I have an idea… but we just have to wait a few minutes.”

“Why do I both love and hate the sound of that?”

“Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.”

***

And not even half an hour later, (Y/n) found herself getting dragged into the underbelly of the stadium; her footsteps echoing against the concrete floors and walls.

Everything was so wide and spacious, with carts going to and fro every once in a while. It was honestly a little daunting, which was why (Y/n) found herself hugging her husband’s arm; on top of already holding his hand.

Kyōjurō also smiled and waved at a few people, even going to accept a few hand shakes and pats on his shoulder from people they passed by. He was the epitome of a golden boy in baseball, that it was literally stated in his contract that he had to keep up a good rapport with his fans.

And (Y/n) couldn’t help but let her thoughts get the better of her— admiring her husband so much, that it made her want him so much more than she did before. Everything in her told her to pounce on him, like he had with her, and she was about to…

That was, until she and Kyōjurō reached a door that led off to a carpeted— and much quieter— area; away from the hustle and bustle of the people outside.

It smelled like disinfectant in there, and a little bit of sweat, which was why she was thankful that Kyōjurō practically ran with her deeper into the room; until they reached the showers. On one side was the communal shower area, and on the other�� where her husband was pulling her to— were a few shower cubicles.

Kyōjurō wasted no time then, merely looking around to check if his teammates were already back from their cooldown workouts, before stripping his uniform off and heaping them in a pile right outside the stall.

All the while, (Y/n) could only bite down on her bottom lip as inch upon inch of her husband’s skin was revealed to her. And from the way that his abs looked, down to the way that his muscles moved— everything was making her so wet and needy.

Especially the sight of his big and hard cock.

Before she could stop herself, she had already pounced on him; wrapping her arms around his neck, while he lifted her up and held her up under her thighs. Thankfully, she had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to wear any panties beneath her sundress— as if a part of her just knew that it was going to happen.

Kyōjurō then pressed her back flush against the cold tile in the stall, making her gasp at the sudden temperature change, and making his cock twitch right where it was flush against (Y/n)’s pussy.

“Be quiet, baby, otherwise we’re going to get caught,” the young man teased with a grin, leaning in to kiss his wife’s lips, before nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth.

The action had (Y/n) chasing after the blond’s lips, making the blond chuckle as he gave in to her wishes; capturing her mouth in an open mouthed kiss, which she gladly reciprocated.

Until Kyōjurō inched his right hand higher up the underside of her thigh, pressing his fingers against her entrance and even pushing his ring and middle fingers inside up to the first knuckle.

That action, however, was already enough to have (Y/n) moaning in pleasure, all while she crossed her legs by the ankles— using that leverage to start rubbing her clit against the underside of Kyōjurō’s erection.

“Please, Daddy,” (Y/n) whispered in a plea, eyes fluttering closed as she felt his fingers going deeper inside her— scissoring within her walls, all to get her much wetter for something bigger.

“Please what, baby? You have to tell me what you want,” The young man teased, kissing his wife’s cheek as he felt her thighs clench harder around his hips.

And, as if to stir her up even more, he began to move his hips against hers— dragging his cock against her clit, in turn making her eyes flutter shut as salacious moans spilled free from her lips. “Please… fuck me. Fuck m-”

(Y/n)’s words were brought to a pause when she felt Kyōjurō’s fingers pull out of her, leaving her pussy feeling so empty; much, much needier. However, before she could even beg for more, her husband had already taken pity on her and lifted her up a little bit, if only to align his cock right with her entrance.

Then, he pushed in the barest inch— making (Y/n) moan aloud as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her breaths came in short bursts then, with her head feeling so heavy and her entire body getting so warm for him. It was as if an electric current passed through her, with how much pleasure she got from that one move alone.

Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself, he pushed in even more, gritting his teeth when he felt (Y/n)’s hands at the back of his neck— one of them scratching at his nape, while the other one curled into his hair. “Fuck, baby, I didn’t even eat you out but you’re this wet.”

“I’ve been wet since I saw you on the field, Daddy,” The young woman admitted through a moan, eyes hazy with delirious pleasure even as she tried to look right into her husband’s flame colored eyes.

At that, Kyōjurō claimed her lips in a kiss, letting it consume both of them until he moved his hips to begin thrusting against her. Every push of his cock inside her had her moaning against his mouth, all while her fingers kept tugging at his hair and gently scratching at his nape.

It only served to egg him on, to the point where a part of him didn’t care about how loud they were being; not when he was drowning in so much pleasure, and so much warmth in his wife’s arms.

Really, he’d already known that he was so lucky to have her— that moment was just reminding him of how much.

Every move felt like it was knocking the breath out of (Y/n), yet she held on tight and let herself sink into the heady pleasure she had been craving for. Especially when Kyōjurō pushed in really deep and brushed against her cervix.

Her legs tensed up at that, as a mix of white hot pleasure with just a hint of pain, ran down her entire body. “Deeper, Daddy! Deeper, please!”

Kyōjurō did as she asked, angling his hips to hit the part that made her absolutely crazy, only to be rewarded by her tightening her legs around his hips so she could meet him thrust for thrust. Her efforts weren’t doing much, but it was enough for him— given how he had her pressed up against the shower wall.

In the midst of things, he’d almost forgotten about his teammates— and how they would be done with their cooldown workouts soon— so, when the thought hit him, he began to thrust faster. He chased after his and his wife’s orgasms enthusiastically, not minding the noise they made since he was sure that no one other than them were in the showers.

If anything, them being so loud was turning him on even more. Especially with the way that his wife kept moaning his name in between kisses; he was loving every second of it, and wanted to prolong it as much as possible.

But slowly, he could feel the pleasure finally about to reach a tipping point within him. It was evident in his wife too, what with the way that her walls clenched down around his cock.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that she was trying to keep his cock in her forever. A hot thought, but definitely well within the realms of fantasy more than reality.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” He whispered through winded breaths, keeping up with his initial pace before going for one last burst of speed— a move that had (Y/n) keening in pleasure, as she threw her head back and came around his cock.

It was the headiest thing that he had seen since the night before, when he’d fucked her much harder with her all tied up in their bed. And it also served to have him opting for slower and deeper thrusts, all so he could savor his own orgasm— and maybe wring out another one from her.

Her walls fluttered around his dick, adding to the headiness he already felt bubbling within him; pushing him closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in— sliding his cock in to the hilt and pressing his slit up against (Y/n)’s sweet spot as he came.

He could even feel her shaking, as it triggered another orgasm from her.

And by the time that his thoughts were clear enough to make sense of what had just happened, he pulled back a little to look at how blissed out his wife was; feeling the corners of his lips tip up into a smile, before he leaned in to press the sweetest of kisses to those lips that he loved the most in the world.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby. So, so lucky.”

***

BONUS:

“Has anyone seen where Rengoku went?”

Kyōjurō’s eyes immediately widened when he heard the voices coming down the hall— right into the shower area. And with a panicked look over his shoulder, then right at his wife, he had only realized that he didn’t even pull the shower curtain closed.

So, with his quick reflexes, he pulled the curtain closed just in time to hear the first of his teammates enter the shower area.

“Hey, Rengoku’s already here! His things are on the floor.” And those words had Kyō panicking even more, because there he was— with his dick still in his wife— in the team’s shower.

“We are not doing this again, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) hissed under her breath, all while praying that no one would mess with her husband and open the curtain. Because really, they’d get more than they bargained for.

[navegandoaciegas]

Not so shy now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve been pushing Bucky’s buttons for days, and he finally snaps.

Warnings: smut, 18+, watersports, omorashi, dom!Bucky, brat!reader, a lil’ bit of humiliation and daddy kink, outdoor sex, rough sex.

A/N: I don’t usually write dom!Bucky, but I hope you’ll like this!

You weren’t one for the outdoors, that Bucky had found out the hard way a couple hours into your mission together, being the sole witness to your bitching and complaining for hours on end.

10 days later, all he wanted to do was bludgeon you to sleep until the mission was over.

Or alternatively, fuck you stupid until you’d all but forget about your backpack being too heavy, the bugs being gross, the blisters in your feet too painful and the meals too bland.

He’d been painfully hard for days and his ears just needed a break from your endless complaints, and stuffing your loud mouth with his aching cock seemed like a practical solution to both problems.

And Bucky was nothing but a practical man.

“Barnes,” you huffed, voice coming out in a childish whine, “Bucky? Buck? Let’s take a break, I need to pee.”

And of course, the biggest problem that had surfaced in your time together: you drank like a camel but your bladder had the capacity of a toddler’s.

“You went less than an hour ago, you can’t be serious right now.”

You, on the other hand, watched in amusement as Bucky turned around, a murderous glint in his eyes. You wondered how much more he could take, how much more you could push, until your grumpy but collected colleague would finally snap.

You felt giddy with excitement imagining all the ways that vibranium arm of his could put you in your place. Would he slap you, choke you, pull your hair? Would he be condescending or mean, how much would he degrade you, and most importantly how much could you take before you broke?

“I couldn’t really go,” you shrugged, feigning innocence, “I was scared that a bug would crawl up my ass, to be honest. And I have a shy bladder, you know. Can’t pee if you’re hovering behind the trees.”

“I wasn’t hovering,” he cried out in disbelief, crossing his arms over his middle.

You smiled wryly, following the flexing muscles of his bulging biceps with your eyes.

“You kind of have a hovering problem, Barnes. A staring one too but we can unpack all that later, I really need to pee right now.”

You stomped over to him, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and hitting him square in the chest with it, mumbling a ‘thanks’. He let out a wheeze, stumbling back as you kept walking.

“You fuckin’ brat,” you heard him grumble, “Been gettin’ on my damn nerves all week.”

You heard a loud thump behind you, and before you could turn around, you were yanked by the arm, and your back hit the trunk of a tree as Bucky caged you against it with his beefy frame.

“It’s about time someone put you in your place, isn’t it? You’ve been running your mouth, so loud and so fuckin’ annoying, bitching and moaning about everything.”

You opened your mouth to sass back at him, but his rough, callous hand grabbed your jaw, shutting you up.

“I’ll give you a reason to bitch and moan, sweetheart.”

Before you could process it, Bucky slanted his mouth against yours in a messy kiss, all clattering teeth and drool, his hands forcefully roaming over your body, you tightly clutching his biceps for support.

You were dripping already, panties ruined with the amount of slick that leaked out of your pussy.

You’d been fantasizing about this moment for nearly a year, and in the end it had only taken you 10 days to crack your colleague. Although, as one of his hands groped your breasts and the other kneaded your ass, you had the feeling that he would be the one to crack you. And your back, and neck.

His hips bucked against yours, and your walls fluttered against nothing as you felt his hard length press on you. You’d accidentally seen him before, and you knew he was going to fill you up like no one ever could before him.

You could ignore the pressure in your bladder and the simmering pain in your lower belly for the moment, in favor of losing yourself in the warmth of his built body, in the shivers that ran down your spine with every one of his rough touches.

In a blur, your t-shirt was discarded, your bra ripped and your pants and panties shoved down your legs, while he stood completely clothed over you.

His thick fingers weren’t delicate when they cupped your cunt, harshly pressing down on your engorged clit, but he was so intoxicating that you could forget the scratch of his nails and the mosquitoes tormenting your ankles.

Fuck, neither of you smelled like roses after a whole day of hiking, but all that you could feel was Bucky and the goosebumps and love bites he left behind.

He leaned back just to watch his fingers dip into your dripping folds, smirking at the way you shuddered.

“Fuck, I just knew you were a fuckin’ whore, you’re so wet for me.”

He plunged inside you, feeling your walls clamp down on his hand.

“What, cat’s got your tongue? You’ve been pestering me all week, if I knew this would get you to shut up I would have done it before, doll.”

You moaned his name when his fingers curled inside you, and the tingly sensation in your lower abdomen made your eyes widen in realization.

You still needed to piss. A lot. And the more Bucky’s vibranium hand jerked inside your pussy, the more your urge grew, the pressure so painfully, maddening pleasant.

Bucky latched his lips onto your pulse point, sucking a bruise on it. You clenched your thighs, whining in shame and need, as you fought the urge to release in his hand.

If you accidentally pissed on him, you’d just quit your job and change identity.

You couldn’t bear the shame of it, brows scrunching as you willed your tense muscles to hold in.

Bucky was none the wiser, continuing his ministration and mistaking your heaving chest and copious sweat for pleasure.

It was delirious, brain turned to mush as part of you wanted to let go and cum (and piss), while the other restrained your urges, and witheld your orgasm.

Bucky’s thick fingers inched you closer and closer to your release, but you bit on your lip and dug your nails in his back to stop you from falling off the edge.

“Don’t hold yourself back, doll. I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers and on my cock, wanna make you cream my fingers, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

Your entire body shook as he doubled his efforts, panting against your ear as his arm vibrated inside your pussy.

You squeezed your eyes shut, body on fire as you tried and failed to conjure any gross image that could sour your mood. None of it worked, though.

A sharp yet somewhat delicate slap on your face brought you face to face with Bucky’s pissed expression.

“Damn brat, never doing what she’s asked,” he tsked, shaking his head, “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

You whined in disappointment but internally cheered when his fingers slipped out of you, and despite the emptiness he left behind, your aching bladder could finally sigh in relief.

Relief that was short lived when he manhandled you again, spinning you around and slamming you front against the tree, ass up in the air.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” you heard him mumble as he tugged his sweats and boxers down to free himself, “Wanted you for so long.”

He slapped his leaking cock on your ass, hot and heavy.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, parting your legs wider.

You should have been begging for him to stop, but the ache in your pussy was too unbearable, and the prospect of his fat cock splitting you in half too appetizing.

“I like the sound of that, c-could get used to this.”

You felt as the breath had been knocked out of you when he breached your entrance, your gummy walls sucking him in. He felt better than you’d imagined all those lonely nights with your fingers down your panties, his name on your tongue as you made yourself cum imagining his hand instead of yours.

His breaths tickled the back of your ear as he gave you time to adjust, bracing one arm against the tree and the other on your shoulder.

Once he started thrusting inside you, the ache returned, stronger than it had been before.

His cock hit all the right spots inside you, which also meant that it jammed against your bursting bladder with each forceful snap of his hips.

The heat in your core was so great that you couldn’t feel the bark scratch against your chest, or the sweat trickling down his hair onto your back.

Again, you wanted to beg him to stop but words failed you, and all you could muster were some broken whimpers as your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you lost your mind on his dick.

The more he pistoned inside you, the more your need to cum grew, the more the idea of pissing all over yourself and Bucky seemed less scary.

“I can feel your tight pussy clamping down on me, doll. So tight, so good to me. Fuck,” he groaned, lost in his own pleasure, cock swelling inside, “‘M all yours, all yours.”

His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush to his chest, which proved to be an awful move when his hand pressed against your bladder and you shrieked, a spurt of piss erupting out of you.

“God, you’re squirting? Oh God, fuck,” he grunted, clenching his teeth, “I’ve never made anyone do that before.”

You wanted to laugh, and cry.

“Bucky, Buck, stop, please, stop, I can’t, I-“

“Yes, you can, you’re doing so good for me, c’mon.”

“Bucky, no.”

Your tone was much harder than before, and Bucky froze like a deer caught in the headlight behind you.

You could feel his heaving chest on your back, and could sense his confusion in the air.

“But I thought…?” he muttered, pulling out of you, “Did I hurt you?”

You debated lying to him, but settled on telling the truth despite how humiliating it could be.

“No,” you hesitated, drawing in a deep breath, “‘S just, I really need to pee, I can’t hold it anymore.”

The air was still for a moment. You gulped, not daring to meet his eyes. After what felt like a century, you heard a low growl behind you.

“You and this damn piss,” he grunted, “Gettin’ on my nerves again, you fuckin’ brat. Always drinking water and whining like a child.”

His fingers dug painfully in your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. You were too speechless to protest.

“‘Bout time I teach you a lesson, sweetheart. I’ve been too good to you, and like the little brat you are, you’ve taken advantage.”

Bucky slammed his cock inside you again, pistoning his hips with brutal force while his hand found your front again.

The pad of his callous finger traced the bulge of your bladder, tickling the skin before pressing down on the swelling.

You had no time to think or react before your body acted on its own, releasing another spurt of hot piss against the tree.

You clenched your muscles to hold the rest of the piss in, and Bucky groaned behind you, feeling your pussy throb around him. You could tell he was getting off on your humiliation, watching you struggle to keep your dignity as he played your body like a fiddle.

“And I thought you were squirting,” he chuckles, “C’mon, piss all over yourself like the dumb bitch you are, princess. Show daddy how stupid his little toy is.”

Had you been more conscious, his alternating moods would have given you whiplash, but your sole reaction was to clamp down harder on him, biting on your lips until you could taste your blood on your tongue.

His cock dragging up and down your walls, the pressure in your cunt, the pain in your bladder, his hand on your belly, it was all becoming too much.

You opened your mouth to scream and all that came out were incoherent mumblings as you released all over yourself and his cock, your hot piss coming out in spurts as he kept fucking you.

“Dumb fuckin’ brat, you’re gonna be a good girl and cream all over daddy’s fat cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trembling head to toe with the sweetest release you’d ever felt, mind completely wiped as you lost control over your own body.

“Daddy, daddy please,” you wailed, “Make me cum, please.”

Your voice didn’t sound like your own as you begged, Bucky’s words lost on you when the ring in your ears got louder and louder.

You didn’t realize you were cumming until waves of searing hot pleasure crashed through you, the orgasm so intense you felt like you were going to black out.

You had the impression of being underwater, blissfully disoriented from reality, Bucky’s cock being to only thing to ground you.

You felt him throb and grow inside you, and he came with a grunt, filling your cunt with his hot cum so much that it began spilling out of your pussy while he was still hard inside you.

You both slumped against the tree, his arms around your chest, his head on your shoulder.

You were covered in dirt, piss, sweat and cum, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Not so shy now, that bladder of yours, hm?”

——

Pease let me know if you enjoyed the filth! Leave some feedback and reblog if you can! ❤️

[wayward-lives]

For the trope mashups: 70 + 90 with Stucky?

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

70. Locked in a room 90. Unexpected Virgin

Okay, I'm getting major fuck-or-die vibes from this.

Imagine, if you will: Steve and Bucky, silently and pathetically pining after each other since 1932 or whatever, sent on a mission to a Hydra lab or something where they're testing out different hinky chemicals and stuff, and Steve gets covered in some weird sweet-smelling liquid after he's thrown into a wall. Since nobody has any idea what the stuff is, Steve's rushed back to HQ and thrown into an isolation ward. Bucky's put in there too, just because being close to the chemicals might have done something to him, too.

Soon enough Steve's starting to exhibit symptoms; elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, flushed skin, and he keeps complaining that he's feeling hot and itchy. Within the next few minutes he's stripped out of his clothes, deeming it too uncomfortable to have the fabric on his skin. He starts to get a bit delirious, and when he tells Bucky he's scared and wants a hug, of course Bucky's going to go over and wrap his bestie up in his arms.

But then Steve starts nuzzling at Bucky's neck. His breath's coming in short pants, and Bucky can feel him shaking, and then Steve's hoisting Bucky up into his lap and good god that is a very hard dick sticking into Bucky's thigh.

Now, Bucky's got a bit of a secret - a secret that he's carefully hidden behind fantastical tales of late-night rendezvous's with mystery ladies from the Brooklyn dance halls. Bucky Barnes is very much Homosexual, and has never slept with anyone. So the feeling of Steve's giant fucking horse cock against his leg is something that is both arousing and a bit terrifying.

"Steve?" Bucky asks hesitantly, but then Steve's sucking at Bucky's neck, his hot tongue laving over Bucky's pulse point and the hollow of his throat, his hands grabbing at Bucky's waist and hips and thighs as if he's trying to yank him closer. Bucky can't help but moan, can't stop himself from arching into Steve's mouth, because fuck that feels good, feels better than Bucky could ever have imagined.

"Don't - don't know what's wrong with me," Steve whines, and god, he sounds so scared, so distressed, but his hands are still sliding under Bucky's shirt, down the back of his pants, and then one of his fingers is rubbing firmly against Bucky's asshole. "Bucky - Bucky, fuck -"

God help him, Bucky doesn't do the right thing; the noble thing, and push Steve away. Steve, who's obviously not in his right mind, who probably doesn't even want this, who's terrified and shaking underneath Bucky's body, between his thighs. Instead, Bucky takes Steve's face in his hands and asks, very seriously, "Steve. What do you need?"

Steve cries out in agony, rutting his cock into the crease of Bucky's thigh. "I gotta - gotta come, Buck, gotta get inside you, gotta -"

And god, Steve sounds like he's in so much pain, and Bucky's a selfish, selfish man, and there's no way he can say no to Steve - not now, not ever.

"Okay, Stevie, okay," Bucky whispers, before he's reaching down and taking Steve's angry-looking, leaking cock in his hand and giving it one long, hard pull. Steve keens and spills into Bucky's hand, thrusting upwards jerkily as he comes in waves, but by the time the tremors have stopped his cock looks even harder than before.

"Bucky," Steve sobs out. One of his hands is still down the back of Bucky's pants, and Bucky lets out a slightly pained gasp as Steve's finger slides in a few inches, completely dry. "Please, I -"

"I know," Bucky says shakily, clumsily petting Steve's hair. "It's okay, Stevie. Take what you need."

And that's all the permission Steve seems to need; in less than a second Bucky's on his back, his clothes almost being torn off him as Steve shoves his way between Bucky's thighs and rubs his leaking dick against Bucky's ass. It feels like he's about to shove his dick right in, no prep, and Bucky panics a bit.

"Steve, Stevie wait," he gasps out, reaching down to grab a hold of Steve's cock. "Lemme just - lemme get ready first, okay?" Steve whines and presses his face into the crook of Bucky's neck, grinding his cock into Bucky's hand, but he obediently waits.

Now, Bucky may be a complete virgin, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't played with himself, and he knows all too well how to stretch himself out. With the lack of lube, he instead runs his fingers through the absolute mess gathering at the head of Steve's cock, and soon enough he's got three fingers inside himself, Steve's cock leaking endlessly and providing enough precome to easily get Bucky wet enough. As Bucky's opening himself up, Steve's grinding against his thigh, his whimpers getting slowly more and more desperate until he's sobbing against Bucky's neck, fat tears dripping down his cheeks and god, Bucky can't make him wait anymore.

"Okay, Stevie," Bucky whispers. "Okay, I'm ready."

And he probably isn't ready, not yet, but he can't stand to hear Steve's anguished cries any longer. As soon as the words leave his mouth Steve's cock is being positioned against his hole, and with a few jerky thrusts it slides in a few inches.

It burns, but it also feels so fucking good that Bucky can't stop himself from crying out in ecstasy, and that seems to be the only encouragement Steve needs to shove himself deeper into Bucky's body until his hips are flush with Bucky's ass, and god it's too much too fast but it's also not enough -

Steve doesn't give him any time to adjust before he's sliding out and fucking back in with an animalistic ferocity, and Bucky can't do anything more than cling to Steve's broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he's fucked so hard that Steve has to hold onto him to stop his head from hitting the wall a couple of feet away.

By the time Bucky's come a few times he's delirious with lust and exhaustion, his cock soft and his body completely drenched in sweat and come, but Steve keeps fucking him with a single-minded intensity. Bucky has no clue how many times Steve has come, but from the squelching sounds coming from their joined bodies and the slippery floor, it's probably a lot.

Steve finally starts slowing down after what feels like an age, his breath hot on Bucky's skin and his hands having pressed bruises into Bucky's skin hours ago. When he finally finishes, Steve collapses on top of Bucky's tired, aching body and rolls them onto their sides, pressing his front against Bucky's back, his cock still hard and tucked within Bucky's hole. Bucky can barely feel the kisses being pressed to the nape of his neck as he drifts off, tired and exhausted, his body sated but his mind spinning with guilt.

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[siswritesyanderes]

Will you write a second part for the Tom Riddle with mother issues one shot? I was kind of curious on how it will end up . Btw, I like your writing. <3

Thank you so much!

Part 1 is here.

Okay, round 2! This one’s a bit more graphic than the previous, so let me know if you’d rather I reel it in or if you like it this way.

(N S F W) (TW: non-con) (TW: pseudo-incest) (not actual incest)

The amount of leeway Tom allowed you for protestations on the first night did not last.

When he returned the next day, there was no dinner waiting for him, and you immediately raised your wand and told him to stay away from you.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as if you’d just performed poorly on a graded assignment. As soon as he reached for his wand, you tried to speak the word to disarm him, but the locket suddenly tightened around your neck, cutting off your air at the last second, and Tom’s cruciatus curse hit you square.

Pain lanced through you. You hit the kitchen floor, too tense to writhe, your eyes tightly shut, your scream filling the air.

It was only for a few seconds.

You knew that, because the locket had ensured that you were unable to take a breath before the curse, and yet your scream hadn’t run out of fuel by the time Tom let up. Panting, you opened your eyes and found that he was sitting on the floor, now. Cross-legged and straight-backed, over your sprawled form. He set his palm on your cheek and wiped at your lips with his thumb. You were embarrassed to find that they were wet; the saliva hadn’t stayed in your mouth, while you were screaming.

“I don’t like hurting you, Mother,” he said. “If you could learn to be more loving, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

Your wand was still in your hand, albeit loose in your grip. You managed to point it at him, and your mouth sluggishly formed part of a spell: “Expel-”

“Crucio.”

You screamed anew, and you felt your voice give out as incomprehensible pain filled you. Once again, it didn’t last longer than a few seconds. The first thing you felt, when the agony abated, was the cool tile under your face; you had rolled over at some point, as if some instinctive part of you had thought you were on fire and hoped to put it out. You couldn’t see Tom, but you felt it when his hand descended on your head. You winced, but he only stroked at your hair. Soothing.

“We didn’t enjoy this, did we?” he asked. “We don’t want to keep doing this.”

You could feel your wand still in your hand, but no part of your mind could form a compelling argument in favor of using it. The fact that he hadn’t taken it from you, given so many opportunities to, had been the initial writing on the wall.

“Now, I want to be a good son. But you have to be a good mother, first. Are you going to be good?” He gingerly flipped you onto your back, again. He moved your hair out of your face with his wand hand. “Will you be good for me?”

You managed to nod.

(Unnecessary suffering was for Gryffindors. You weren’t subjecting yourself to more of that kind of pain just to prove a point that Tom would never accept anyway. If defying him would ever be the right choice, it clearly wasn’t now.)

Tom smiled pridefully and kissed you- a long, lingering press of his lips against yours, just on the surface, not mining your mouth like he had last night. When he pulled back, he asked, “Who are you, then?”

Keeping him satisfied gave you some measure of control over your fate. You were smart enough to keep him at bay, if your head would just stop spinning. “I’m your mother,” you answered him. Hoarse from screaming.

Tom eased forward and sank his weight onto you, his body spread over yours so that his head was tucked under your chin and his legs and feet extended past yours, on the floor; he was taller than you. Feeling him on top of you again, and feeling the way both of his legs had slotted between yours (implicitly preventing them from closing), caused a dull panic to spread inside you- dull, because what was there to do about it?

“Mother,” he sighed contentedly, and he smiled against your collarbone for a second. Then the second passed, and the smile fell away. “I didn’t like it when you tutored the other students, at school. Why didn’t you just tutor me?”

Oh, Merlin. So it wasn’t enough to play nice now; he also wanted you to retroactively explain away past infractions. And judging by the petty plaintiveness of his tone, you would be on the hook for those infractions until you gave an explanation that he deemed adequate.

“Well, you were already brilliant, Tom. You didn’t really need a tutor, did you?”

Though his enjoyment of the compliment was palpable, it didn’t seem to quell his dissatisfaction. “All the more reason; they were wasting your time.” His fingernails sank into your arms, not giving the impression of a deliberate punishment, but rather as if he was distressed that his grip on you wasn’t strong enough.

So flattery wasn’t enough. “I was just trying to teach you to share,” you said innocently. “All children should learn to share their things.”

His reaction to this was the inverse; he seemed not to enjoy it, but it satisfied him. He relaxed. Retracted his claws. “I don’t like to share,” he said. “Mother is only for me.”

So he liked to be flattered, but he preferred to be convinced. Not a good sign, that he wouldn’t just let you owl it in with mere praise; he wanted credible mothering behavior.

Awkwardly, you reached up and rested your hand on his head. He moaned and nipped at your neck, and it made you utterly sick, but his affection was still better than his torture.

“You shouldn’t be so tense, Mother,” he murmured. “Not if you love me.”

Relaxing your body, at this point, was like physically lifting a heavy weight, but you did it.

His teeth kept gently chewing at the skin of your neck; he kissed and he sucked, and you were wondering whether it was better to just do nothing or if you should suggest that you would make dinner and see if that got him off of you. Then his hand went to your right breast, and he started kneading at it through your clothes.

“Please don’t,” you breathed.

His hand went under your shirt. He took your breast in his hand and gripped it tightly. “Why not?” he asked, in a manner that could only be described as a dignified whine. “Don’t you love me?”

“Yes, I…I love you.”

“And don’t I deserve all of you? Don’t you want to give me all of you?”

You could feel his hardness through his trousers, pressed right against the natural seam between your thigh and…and…He was deliberately grinding it against you, now: subtle, minute movements that caused your dull panic to abruptly sharpen. Even through both of your clothes, his rubbing against that part of you was like an electric shock. His hand was still molding at your breast.

“Doesn’t Mummy love me?” he whispered, almost deliriously. “Don’t you want me?”

“Y-yes,” you lied, sick and wet and fighting the ever-climbing wave of terror.

“I love you so, so much. I want every part of you. And you want every part of me, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched; his technique was not as clumsy and desperate as it had been last night. Not by half. His every move seemed perfectly calculated to make you incomprehensible. “Yes, but…we haven’t had dinner,” you managed to get out. “Y-you’re a growing boy. You need to eat, so you can…grow big and strong.”

“Mmmm.” Again, he seemed displeased but satisfied by your explanation. You were annoying him in the approved way. The way a mother annoys a son. “You didn’t have dinner ready when I got home, so I get to decide what I want to eat. That’s the rule.”

“Alright,” you answered, indifferent. He could eat at the most expensive restaurant in the land with your Galleons, if that would get him off of you.

Before you could get too relieved, you heard “Immobulus,” and a blue light washed over you. The Freezing Charm was different from a Full Body-Bind; Petrificus Totalus would have made you stiff as a board, but under Immobulus, you merely lost the ability to move. More accurately, you lost the capacity for voluntary movement, which was why you could still breathe and your heart could still beat.

Tom sat up and began systematically undressing you, and for lack of anything else to focus on, you became preoccupied with the tantalizing feeling of your wand still in your hand. He didn’t take it from you, even once you were fully nude on the kitchen floor. In fact, he took care not to let it fall out of your grip as he moved both of your hands to rest on either side of your head.

He spread your legs and lowered his face to-

Oh!

“Oh!”

Another thing about Immobulus was, by preventing voluntary movement, it made it impossible to control involuntary movement. Keeping in your reflexive vocal responses to Tom’s ministrations would have required you to have control over yourself, which you did not. You could not keep the noises inside you, or moderate the volume, and it only made the situation more pitiful and mortifying: lying on your own kitchen floor, naked, wand in hand, helpless as a would-be Dark Lord fresh out of Hogwarts ran his tongue mercilessly and expertly between your folds, and plunged it within you (wringing blinding amounts of sensation out of every motion), and you couldn’t even restrain the whimpers and shrieks and moans and sounds for which you had no name- sounds which certainly had never escaped you before in your life.

He did not stop or even pause to speak until after you had come in his mouth. Even after that, he continued lapping at you relentlessly for another few minutes. When he did raise his face again, licking his lips lewdly, you were a clammy, whimpering mess.

He watched you for a while, and you hated that you were all shiny and short of breath, but you couldn’t control your breathing any more than you could control any of it. There was no way of disguising his effect on your body.

After he had apparently had his fill of looking, Tom stood and wandered the kitchen. He was doing something (You could hear as much.), but you couldn’t move your eyes to see what.

Another minute passed.

Then, he scooped you up into his arms- still making sure your wand stayed in your hand, the smug git -and set you down across the kitchen table at which the pair of you had shared tea just yesterday. Your head fell back, and you saw what he had been doing as he wandered the room: he had been opening all the windows.

Tom dragged you so that your rear end was at the edge of the table, spread your legs and bent your knees so that each foot was almost flat against the table’s surface, and then arranged your head so that you could see him. He was still fully dressed, but he had opened his trousers and pulled them down a few centimeters, freeing his organ. He set his wand down somewhere on the table- a carelessness that came with power -and placed both of his hands on your thighs.

“I enjoyed my dinner, Mother,” he said conversationally. His voice was only slightly breathy, to betray either his earlier exertion or his present excitement. “Thank you for making it so warm and tasty for me.”

He punctuated his coy mockery by rubbing his full length along your slit, and you had to let out a loud moan, and your heartbeat raced as a new level of humiliation filled you. Was this why he had opened the windows? So others would hear?

“You should get a reward for taking such good care of me, don’t you think?” He hooked his hands around the backs of your thighs, then, to pull you closer; your pulse stuttered, at his sudden tug, fearing that he would spear you with his member right then, but he did not. “I even thought about what you said about sharing. I liked hearing how much you…enjoyed” (Another surface thrust, another helpless moan- this one embarrassingly high.) “giving me my dinner, and I want to be a good boy and share those nice sounds with everyone.”

He gave no further warning before he lanced your entrance, and as he proceeded to thrust, to withdraw and advance, you were in equal parts humiliated by your own keening, yearning wails and his revolting exclamations: “Oh, oh, you take me so well, Mother! Mummy wants me so much! Mother, I’m going to come inside you! I’m going to fill you right up with all of my babies; you want them so much!”

Your orgasm was likely audible in at least a two-house radius. Your eyes were leaking rivulets of tears, and your hair was everywhere, and your lips were wet with spit again, and still it was at least another full minute before Tom came, himself.

Every breath you took was a whimper. You managed to turn your eyes away from Tom (the effects of the spell finally wearing off), and you started when you saw a face at the window: some mustached neighbor standing outside, watching.

Tom followed your gaze, picked up his wand, and made a lazy, matter-of-fact slashing motion. You saw a red line grow across the man’s throat before he fell out of view with a sound like a bag of rocks dropping to the ground.

“I said they could listen, not look,” Tom said, as if that was the part he had to justify. He finally pulled out of you, and he fastened up his trousers. “Haven’t I been a good son today?”

It was clear that you were expected to answer him again, despite being spent. Your vision blurred with more tears. “Mm-hm,” was the best you could do, but it was apparently sufficient.

Tom left the kitchen, wet a rag, and came back to gently clean the sweat from your face. By the time he returned, you had managed to close your legs; you were curled up like a shrimp, with your arms covering your breasts. His touch was much too loving, as he ran the rag over your cheeks. “Did you like sharing?”

You shook your head stiffly.

“Then that’s something we have in common,” he said brightly. “How about this: I won’t share anymore, if you don’t. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, just as stiffly.

He lowered his mouth to yours and gave a more invasive kiss than before. “I know that you’re tired,” he said generously. “I’ll draw you a bath, and I’ll make you some tea.” He dropped a peck on the tip of your nose. “You can prove how much you love me tomorrow.”

...

(Okay! I hope this came out good. Let me know what you thought.)

[youareinlovees]

LA Lockdown (submission)

(um hi, hope you don't mind me submitting this to you but I got inspired to do some ~creative writing and Nat got deactivated 😭)

May 2020

It’s a beautiful day in LA. Joe sits at one end of the couch on the outdoor terrace, absorbed in his book. Taylor is sitting at the other end, looking out at the view across Beverly Hills and occasionally looking at her phone, her feet up on the seat and her legs draped across Joe’s lap. It’s an idyllic scene. Lockdown might be boring him stiff, with all his upcoming acting projects being pushed back indefinitely, but he knows that he does have it pretty good.

Joe gets distracted from his book by the sight of his phone screen lighting up with new messages in the Frosty Crew and partners group chat. Picking up his phone, he sees that Jesse has sent a link to a Reductress article entitled, ‘Have you made the Bon Appétit focaccia yet or do you live with someone you can fuck?’

He chuckles, but before he can respond, another message pops up in the chat.

Taylor: Not to brag but some of us have managed to do both

She looks across from the other end of the couch and smirks at him. In response, he taps out a message of his own.

Joe: And it was thoroughly enjoyable Joe: Orgasmic one might say Joe: I am of course referring to the baking that Taylor did yesterday

Taylor: Aw baby I didn’t know you liked it that much Taylor: We can have it again later if you like

Joe: Later? That’s an awfully long time to have to wait

Jesse: do you two know you can just text each other directly if you want to schedule sex?

Taylor slides her legs further across Joe’s lap, intentionally rubbing herself against his groin and shuffling closer to him. He grins, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in so he can press a few light kisses to the side of her neck.

Billy: Text each other? She’s probably sitting in his lap right now.

Joe momentarily pulls away from kissing down Taylor’s jawline to add a final message of his own.

Joe: Oh shit, busted Joe: Billy you need to stop spying on us through the security cameras Joe: Anyway I’ll talk to you lot later

Taylor tugs his phone out of his hands and puts it down next to her own on the table, her eyes sparkling. ‘Now that you’ve finished telling everyone that we’re about to fuck, can we actually get on with it?’ she teases.

‘Hey,’ he says, looking straight into her hypnotizingly blue eyes, ‘I think you’ll find you’re the one who started it, actually.’

‘Excuse me, Joseph, but which one of us was too impatient to wait until later? It’s only the middle of the day. I would have been perfectly content waiting until after whatever movie you’ve picked out for us this evening.’

She’s a vision, her messy hair falling across her shoulders, dressed in an old Rolling Stones t-shirt and a comfy pair of short shorts that cling tightly to her ass. They’d played a game of tennis earlier and he certainly hadn’t been complaining about the view whenever she bent down to pick up another tennis ball. Now, he runs his hands up under her t-shirt, over her stomach and round her back.

‘Well,’ he says, pretending to be disappointed, ‘if that’s how you feel, I guess I’ll go back to my book.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ she says breathily, straddling his lap properly and grinding into him. He takes one hand out from under her shirt and pushes it into her hair instead, pulling her head firmly down towards his until their lips meet.

They kiss passionately, desperately, Taylor moaning into his mouth, breaking apart only to pull off each other’s t-shirts. She’s still moving back and forth on his lap and driving him wild. He’s almost fully hard by this point, and suddenly he stands up, taking her by surprise. She’s still wrapped around him, her long bare legs encircling his waist.

‘We’re going back to bed,’ he says firmly.

They could just have sex where they are, or on one of the many other couches downstairs - they’ve done it plenty of times before - but he has a sudden urge to show off to her a little, give her a practical demonstration of the benefits of all the working out he’s been doing during lockdown. He carries her through the house and up the stairs to their bedroom as she bites his earlobe and kisses his neck in a very distracting manner.

He lowers her onto their bed, climbing on top of her to kiss her again. ‘You’re still wearing far too many clothes,’ he murmurs into her ear. She shivers in anticipation - he knows how much his voice turns her on when it’s right in her ear like this - and lifts her arms above her head in response, allowing him to pull her sports bra off and turn his attention to her breasts, licking and sucking at her nipples. She gasps as he aggressively sucks a hickey onto her underboob, pushing her hips up against his body in an effort to seek out some much-needed friction.

‘Joe, please,’ she begs. ‘Enough with all this teasing, I need you now.’

He smirks, pressing his hips firmly down into hers, stopping her grinding motion. ‘Well, since you asked so nicely…’

He draws back to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed, pulling her hips towards him. He can practically hear her heart thudding in her chest as he hooks his long fingers under the waistband of her shorts, pulling them off in one motion along with her underwear. As he pushes her thighs apart and drapes her legs over his shoulders, he can see that she’s soaking wet. He decides to cut out the teasing, having made her wait for long enough already, gripping her hips and going straight for her clit.

The sound she makes in response is almost enough to make him come then and there, but he’s made of stronger stuff than that. As he continues, he can hear her breath catching in her throat, feel her perfect thighs tightening around his head, her body squirming under his attentions as she gets closer and closer to orgasm. Before long she’s coming, her whole body shuddering and her back arching off the bed as she moans out uncontrollably, ‘oh, Joe.’

He works her through her orgasm until eventually he looks up from between her legs to see her lying with her head thrown back, breathing heavily, hands clutching the sheets on either side of her, and a blissed-out expression on her face. She’s radiant, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and he feels a surge of satisfaction at being the only person allowed to bring her to this state.

‘Fuck,’ she mumbles deliriously, her cheeks flushed red. ‘That was so good, babe.’

But they’re not done yet, because he’s as desperate for her as she is for him. Pulling his sweatpants and boxers off, he climbs back onto the bed and hovers over her, repositioning them so that her head is on the pillow now. Taylor whines softly as he pushes into her, clearly still sensitive from the high she’s just had, so he starts off at a gentle pace. She feels so so good around him, and he nuzzles into her neck and groans softly into her ear. He loves feeling connected to her like this, their bodies intertwined and her hands in his hair. He lifts himself back off her slightly to look into her eyes.

‘s okay,’ she whispers to him, ‘you can go harder.’ He notices her gaze lingering slightly on his arms, which have bulked up noticeably in the last few months. He suppresses a grin. If that’s what she’s after, that’s what she’ll get.

Without any warning, he grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, thrusting into her with a newfound aggression. She moans, her mouth falling open and her eyes rolling back as she hitches her thighs up higher around his waist. She writhes in pleasure underneath him as he hits her spot, taking advantage of the new angle to penetrate her more deeply. With her hands restrained, she can only tighten herself around him and respond to every stroke by undulating her hips up into him. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she gasps, ‘I’m so close, Joe.’

The desperation in her voice turns him on even more. He can feel himself getting close, so close, and he quickly moves one of his hands down to her clit, repositioning the other one so that it’s still pinning down both of her wrists. ‘Are you going to come for me, Tay?’ he asks, his voice low and commanding. The combination of his fingers, his relentless thrusting, and his voice pushes her over the edge for a second time, and he feels her whole body shaking and clinging onto him as she comes hard.

The sensation of her body clenching around him is enough to make him explode as well, and he collapses on top of her, finally releasing her hands. She winds her arms around his shoulders and through his hair, which by this point is a complete mess, as he lies with his head on her chest, both of them slowly getting their breath back and letting their heart rates come back down to normal.

Joe can feel Taylor smiling against the top of his head. ‘Sorry for tearing you away from your book, babe,’ she says cheekily. ‘I’ll have to make you some more of my - how did you describe it? - orgasmic focaccia to make it up to you.’

He laughs at her silliness as they both get up to look for their clothes. ‘That’s okay, love, you’re good enough to eat on your own.’ Taylor snorts and pretends to smack him on the arm with her shorts, but she can’t resist replying, ‘In that case, maybe I can arrange a special dessert for you after dinner tonight.’

[opluffys]

Caught- Donquixote Doflamingo x Reader

another from my archive account, luffys. putting it here just cuz i guess. anyway i hope you guys enjoy!

-smut/nsfw-

This was your chance. Your one and only opportunity, it was like a flashing gold sign right in front of you. Seize your chance!

You sighed in discomfort. How long has it been? You honestly stopped keeping track, but due to how sensitive you felt, you knew that it had been a while.

The tap of your heels were no doubt annoying the two grown men seated next to you. They were, however, too focused on the leading mans words, as the number of you were trapped in a meeting.

The way Doflamingo hadn't spoken to end the meeting told you that everyone would be here a long time.

Perfect.

You rose from the leather confines, muttering a polite excuse. When nobody seemed to object, you beelined your way out of that boring lecture, seeing the confused eye of Rosinante settle on you before fully disappearing behind that door.

You unconsciously pumped your fist high, making a small sound of happiness that your ridiculous plan had actually gone to fruition.

You moved your way past the many doors, seemingly lost in a maze on the marble floor. You clicked your tongue when you remembered that your room was at the end. How lucky you were.

You burst inside your chambers, kicking off the dark heels and rushing into the small bathroom, seeing the small scratches visible on the mirror from your last fling.

"I should do something about that..." You hummed, quickly shrugging away any thoughts of the previous man who held you tight.

You bumped your hip against the door, hearing the soft click, affirming that it had closed. Too excited to take any other further precautions, you decided the setting was good enough.

Your available hand scrambled against the sink for purchase, nearly slipping on nothing in pure bliss. You curled your fingers further inside of you, delving deep into your velvety folds.

Muffled gasps and groans continued to fight their way out of you as your fingers pushed farther than you thought possible, causing a louder sound to rip its way out of your tightly sealed lips.

More scandalous moans left your lips, feeling three of your fingers pump in and out of you felt phenomenal. You decided to take it nice and slow, resting against the sink as you began to spread your fingers inside of you, attempting to get a stretching sensation.

Who knew when you could get another chance like this, after all?

After hitting the wall of seemingly no longer caring, your fingers started to ruthlessly thrust inside your dripping core, the liquid spilling onto your spread thighs as if you've come out the shower.

Your eyes were closed, your painted lips slightly agape in pleasure. You could feel that high. You were chasing it for so long, you were right there. Just one more graze from the perfect angle... It was as if you were pushing a large boulder over a hill, you were at the top, about to push the rock over. Your chest heaved with excitement, glee filling your body from the toxins your brain received.

You couldn't move.

You prayed that you were dreaming.

"This is what you skip my meeting for?"

You didn't have a response. You didn't want to respond. You wanted to curl up and become invisible to the entire world right now.

He moved his fingers, and so did you, causing an involuntary moan from your lips after brushing against your swollen clit.

How did you not hear the man coming in? He was a giant for goodness sake! Did you not lock the door, even so, the bathroom door should've been locked as well...

"I expect an answer when I talk to you, (First Name)."

Pink flooded your vision. You didn't want to believe this.

"My apologies, Young Master." You panted, your body still stimulated from your previous actions. "I did not intend for any of this-"

"No, no. We all get urges sometimes." He chuckled, seeing the state of peril you believed to be in. He appeared behind you, your hooded eyes widening at his ridiculous speed.

His tanned digit swiped at your wet folds, eliciting a shameless moan from you. Without warning, he quickly shoved two of his long fingers inside your tight pussy, feeling the way you tightened against him made the man grin wickedly.

You would question what he was doing if you weren't drunk off of your own pleasure, placing your forehead against the counter and just letting your sounds of bliss flow.

"I could give you something better than just my fingers."

Your thighs twitched in excitement, trying to tighten, but with Doflamingo's strings, any movement was impossible.

You couldn't bring yourself to speech, to moving at all, especially when he dared to push his fingers down to his knuckles. Curling them against you.

"Yes." You breathed, you honestly didn't mean to say anything. Somehow the affirmation had slipped out.

How heinous of you it was to see all of the actions being committed from the mirror. A part of you actually enjoyed this, getting attention from Doflamingo himself, what kind of woman doesn't want that? Those bronze abs were just begging to be touched by you. That short blonde hair screaming to be in your vice grip, screaming the mans name behind you without fear.

Doflamingo had zero hesitation, after hearing your breathy plea, he dropped his pants, only leaving the ever-so tight confines of his boxers on.

He dragged his fingers out of you, ignoring your whines of protest. He pulled the briefs down slightly, enough to expose the reddening tip of his desperate member. His cock was leaking giddily, how excited the man felt was not what he portrayed. Little did you care, though. You just wanted to feel full of your own boss, the thought of peeking in the mirror often to see how he reacted within you made you further leak with excitement.

Doflamingo languidly palmed his erection, causing more precum to dribble down his impressive length. He groaned lowly, eliciting an excited whimper from you.

The man behind you was huge, so all you could expect was a large size as well.

"Finish what you had started."

You felt an uncomfortable heat rest on your cheeks. How could you finish pleasuring yourself while your damn boss stood behind you so calmly?

"Young Ma-"

"Do not make me repeat myself."

God, that dangerous undertone of his voice nearly made you finish right then and there. Why couldn't he just shove himself deep inside of you like any other man?

Your shaky hand returned to your slick folds, using your skilled fingers to spread and rub yourself shyly. You bit your lip as to not make much noise, but when you curled your fingers- oh..! You couldn't stop yourself from that sweet moan leaving your mouth.

Making noise was favourable to you, though. With every heavy breath you drew, a shaky exhale left Doflamingo's lips, stroking his painfully hard length with vigour.

"How bad do you want to get fucked?"

"S-So bad..!"

You had no control over yourself, words just came out of your mouth with ease, it was like your cognitive function was completely switched off.

Again, you were so close. Atop that damn mountain with the boulder just barely pushed over the edge. You felt bliss in your fingertips, just brush over that spot one more time, and curl your fingers at the right moment-

You wanted to scream.

So suddenly he had filled you to the brim of his cock, head kissing your womb with every thrust back into you. He was so fucking big, he was splitting you. But oh, did it feel divine.

Incoherent words left your lips, red staining the material of the sink.

"You take me surprisingly well..." He grunted, it seemed as he was enjoying himself more than he had let on...

"I... I thought..! You were in," Your hand flew to your mouth, stopping such a loud and unclear sound, you felt embarrassed hearing that come from you.

"Ah, my meeting. Yes, I was taking charge of it. But it was rather boring, seeing as you had left to do such a devious thing, no?" Doflamingo chuckled, large palm on the soft curve of your ass. He never faltered, not for a moment, such fluid and beautiful thrusts. It's like he knew your body from the inside out, his length just hitting every spot in you that made you go crazy.

You felt delirious, such a big cock breaking and stretching you, you couldn't ask for something better. Groans left Doflamingo's lips as he leaned lower to you, hard abs meeting your back.

Your head turned to the side, seeing the man fucking into you beside you. You couldn't help yourself, you wanted to feel all of him, and it wasn't like the two of you would ever do this again, anyway.

You met him in a sloppy kiss, lips covered slickly and teeth colliding every now and then. It was painfully passionate, kissing while you felt him inside.

His free hand rushed to your sore clit, rubbing harsh circles into it. You broke the kiss and whimpered nothing but affirmations.

All you could comprehend was Doflamingo's huge body ramming into your own, making you see stars. You didn't think about how loud you were, you didn't think how Rosinante's room was right beside yours, you didn't think how you were yelling Doflamingo's nickname, such a thing only close allies could call him.

No, you didn't think of it at all.

All you felt was white hot pleasure while his full lips crashed into yours, his hands were of an expert surgeon, tweaking and pinching all over your body.

Finally you could push that oversized rock over that damned cliff. You felt as if you were free falling from such a high distance, hands running through the creamy clouds.

"Ahh, Doffy..!" You screamed, tightening around him impossibly while bumping your head against the sink, feeling every muscle in your body become useless.

Your juices soaked him, making it easier to slip in and out of you. A strangled groan left him after feeling your soft flesh squeeze him ever so tightly. He couldn't hang on much longer, feeling his high quickly approaching.

Many curses left Doflamingo, quickly unsheathing himself from within your warmth to release thick white ribbons onto your back.

"You should clean yourself up." He said, smiling widely, knowing full well you could no longer walk properly.

A frown settled onto your lips, your eyebrows furrowing. You wanted to turn and glare at him, but alas, after practically having your body wrecked by a huge man, it wasn't possible.

"Ass." You mumbled.

He laughed, amused at your courage to say such a thing to him.

You held on to the edges of the sink to make your way to the shower. It was as if you didn't know how to swim, holding onto the corners of the pool to support you.

You felt an arm support your deadweight, assisting you to the shower.

"Looks like I'll have to help you further." He grinned.

Needless to say, you could no longer walk around as much as you liked for the next week.

[rrazor]

positions | m. issei

tags: fluff, mildly suggestive content

issei never knew how much he loved touching you until he was granted unconditional permission to do so. he thought he was relatively independent and someone who didn’t need as much reassurance or physical affection compared to other guys around him, like oikawa and hanamaki or even iwaizumi.

he thought he’d be fine, satisfied, content with just having you sit next to him or holding your hand or just being near you.

he thought wrong.

but he’s okay with that—you always indulged him after all, more than happy to have him close. your face lights up in a way that’s so adorable it pains him and has his fingers itching for contact.

he toys with the edge of your hoodie, watching your in-game character dash about. turning his head, he dips it into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes. his arms automatically tighten around you as he noses into the skin there.

“‘sei, you bored?”

he mumbles his “no” into your skin, smelling clean and cottony from your shower. his legs tangle with yours underneath the blankets. the side of his right foot comes up to brush against your bare calf and he begins to wish he wore shorts instead.

you hum, fingers tapping away at the screen while his slide up under your hoodie. you glance down at them before looking back to your screen again. issei grins happily behind you, gently roaming his hands across your stomach and up to cup your boobs. your skin is soft, recently moisturized. you talked about how you bought a new one, how it was “natural” and made your skin feel like velvet. he agrees, roaming his hands around and taking in all your dips and curves.

“hey!” you squeal. “i’m fighting!”

he chuckles, kissing your cheek. “and you’re gonna lose if you don’t focus.”

you huff, but to his delight, don’t tell him to stop so he lets you grumble, snickering like the cat who got the cream.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

he wakes up to a delirious fog, overheated and chilled to the bone. bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes, he blinks through the darkness of his room, slowly extending an arm to his phone on his nightstand.

5:37pm.

“nii-chan… room… dinner.”

he hears footsteps get closer to his door. a short series of knocks.

“issei?” your voice is soft. “are you awake?”

“yes,” he tries to say, but it comes out a rasp, too quiet. he wonders why you’re here anyways, on a school night when there’s a math exam tomorrow. an exam he hopes he’ll pass given the state he’s in.

the door opens gently, allowing the soft yellow light from the hallway into his room. you walk in, hands carrying a tray. he hears the china knock into each other.

“oh, you’re awake.”

he nods, watching you set down everything on his nightstand before putting a hand over his forehead. the steam of the mug rises and already, he can feel how dry his mouth is.

“how’re you feeling?”

he clears his throat, wincing at the amount of phlegm he’s forced to clear out. you frown, if your down turned eyebrows are anything to go by. he can’t see the rest of your pretty face behind your mask.

“been better,” he croaks.

you huff out a laugh. “got enough energy for your meds?”

he nods, sitting up just enough to make it easy to wash the pills down with water before he slumps back into bed.

“are you hungry?” you ask, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

he shakes his head, letting you touch his forehead again.

“tired? wanna go back to sleep?”

he hums noncommittally, bringing his hand up to hold onto your wrist. you run your fingers through his soft curls, making him shiver.

“go to sleep,” you whisper.

he shakes his head, pulling you hard enough that you fall over him in surprise. he wraps his arms around your torso, burying his face in your chest.

“hey,” you chide, resting on your elbows above him. “you need to rest.”

he nuzzles into your shirt, relishing in having you close. the smooth, cool cotton of your shirt a welcome feeling on his overheated skin.

“missed you.”

straight through the heart.

“i missed you, too,” you whisper.

“stay a bit?” he pleas. he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t really help himself.

you bring the blankets up over yourself and his heart soars. he tucks himself on top of your chest, heart pounding in his chest as you pull your mask down to kiss his forehead. it’s tender, so comforting.

he falls asleep to the smell of cotton and camomile.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

“babe.”

you hum, lips resting against his forehead. the clock on the bedside table reads 9:48pm in muted led.

he can’t see you in the dark, tucked in so close to you. issei’s resting beside you again. because he can’t ever get enough. because that’s where he belongs, hands on your skin, head tucked into your neck. he’s tall, might as well be two metres, two whole hundred centimetres but issei adores it when he gets to be the small spoon.

“d’y’ever think about the people who got infinity symbols tattooed or those moustaches—wonder how they’re doing?”

he can hear you, feel you laugh.

“no, i would’ve never if you didn’t bring it up,” you snort. “forgot about those dumb trends.”

he chuckles softly into your pajamas, slotting himself closer to you. he can’t explain it but an overwhelming surge of love blooms in his chest when you bring the blankets up to cover his shoulders.

you’ll probably end up on opposite sides of the bed in the morning, maybe even turned away from one another. s’fine, he usually ends up scooching over to you anyways. the rise and fall of your chest slows. it’s a bit too early for him to doze off—.

“g’night, ‘sei,” you mumble, kissing his hairline. “love you.”

he nods imperceptibly, kissing where your heart is. “night,” he whispers. “love you more.”

you mumble something into his hair. he draws infinity signs on your back.

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

today, he’s the big spoon—sorta. you’re on the train to the mitsui outlet park. it’s crowded, likely because of the kamen rider event going on. the rest of his family got there early to participate from start to finish.

it’s 11:58am and he’s caged you in between the train walls, a nice barricade from other passengers.

he’s zoning out when he hears your stomach growl.

“did you eat breakfast?”

you look up at him sheepishly. “no?”

he leans down to knock his forehead against yours, lips curling upward when you make a funny noise.

“i think i have candy in my pockets.”

his mom was giving them out in the morning after finding them in her purse. she handed him a few saying she got them from work.

“really?” your eyes glimmer as your hands reach into his pockets. your rummaging digs up two pieces of caramel. you unwrap them and feed one to him before pocketing the plastic.

“y’know i think i love you a little bit.” you grin, tongue swirling caramel goodness.

“yeah?” he snickers. “can’t blame you. i’m the ultimate catch—tall, funny, handsome.”

you roll your eyes, watching as he leans against the glass perpendicular to the doors. he stands closer when the doors on the opposite open. you raise your fists up in front of you. “i’ll have you catch these hands.”

“you could have just told me you wanted to hold hands, babe,” he chuckles, grabbing your right one and leaving a quick kiss on your forehead.

“don’t twist my words,” you grumble. your words are half spoken into his chest when he presses closer as a businessman squeezes by.

“oh, don’t worry.” he winks. “i know you and i have other plans for these hands later.”

you snort. “yeah, prayer.”

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

issei leans back against the couch, tilting over onto the arm to rest his head as he settles into his food coma.

“issei, come back and have some marinated duck!”

he groans a little, telling his grandmother that he’d be over soon. though he could eat a lot, the walls of his stomach could never defeat nor contain the power of his grandmother.

he decides it’s a great time to take a picture of his extended stomach and send it to you.

>> (05:47) babe >> (05:47) [img.png] >> (05:48) i’m expecting

>> (05:51) what the Hell >> (05:52) tw: mpreg

>> (05:53) did you just trigger warning me?

>> (05:53) yes

>> (05:54) damn >> (05:55) well I don’t need this negativity in my life >> (05:55) relationships r built on mutual respect >> (05:56) I’ve told u I love you what more do u want

>> (05:57) nudes

>> (05:57) 😔😢😢

>> (05:58) here’s one of mine >> (05:58) [img.png] >> (05:59) 🥰❤️❤️❤️

he’s never sat up so fast in his life.

“issei, are you coming?”

he bites his tongue. “yes, grandma.”

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ

he comes back home to you two days later. he drops his bags on his bedroom floor and is about to run out the house to yours when his mom yells at him from the kitchen, “issei, sort through your things before you go!”

his shoulders slump and his head hangs but he gets it done and then he’s off.

>> (02:12) I’m home 😎😎💩 >> (02:12) wait ididnt mean the poo emoji

>> (02:13) welcome home 🌸

>> (02:13) Open the door  

you do, though it takes you a millisecond too long but he’s not going to gripe too much about it. he engulfs you in a hug the moment he sees you and nearly knocks your cell phone onto the pavement. your arms automatically go behind him. swaying, you stay there, sun shining and leaving an orange tint behind when you close your eyes.

“welcome back, ‘sei.” you nuzzle your head into his. “how was your grandma’s?”

he mumbles something but doesn’t make any effort to move. not wanting to attract stares, you slowly waddle backwards to get him through the front door. on your third step back, he just picks you up and does it himself before closing the door behind him and returning to his original position.

“‘sei,” you drawl out. “my back huurts.”

he pulls back the slightest, eager to see you up close yet wanting to keep you close. “i just wanted to hug you, is that so bad?”

“bedroom” is all you say. he frowns but lets you take him there anyways.

you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you. he instead opts to kneel down on the floor and rest his head on your thighs.

“‘sei?”

“grandma’s was good,” he murmurs, eyes closing when you run a hand through his curls. “thank you for the nude.”

you laugh and he takes the chance to get up and pull you into bed with him. he rolls you on top of him, brushing your hair away and cupping your face to pull you in for a kiss. his tongue is warm, soft, lax and you melt into him, onto him.

“wait,” he mutters.

“hm? something wrong?” you lean up a bit.

“i left your food at my place. my grandma made you some.”

you hum, leaving kisses on his jaw and swinging your legs. “we can go over later. kiss me more, please?”

he grins. “thought you’d never ask, babe.”