#I will not hurt them that bad I swear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fawniswriting · 2 months ago

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𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.

Warning(s): THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!!! platonic!thunderbolts x reader. no use of y/n. use of the nicknames doll, honey, and pretty girl. canon typical violence. descriptions of injuries. descriptions of explosion, gun use, etc. established relationship. profanities. kissing. VERY suggestive content (minors be advised). talks of having a baby. bucky being a little feral (very briefly). slightly hurt/comfort. basically bucky and reader being the parents of the group.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Author's Note: GUYS I saw this fanart on instagram and instantly knew that I had to write something inspired by it!!! I've been itching to post a thunderbolts fic since last week 😭 welcome back 2012-2014 era of avengers' tower fanfics ✨️ anyway I hope they're keeping the revolution hair for bucky in doomsday or else I swear I'm gonna RIOT!!! (I know seb's head is shaved rn but wigs exist yk 😔) don't forget to comment, like, and reblog loveliesss 🩷

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes doesn't understand a lot of things since he returned to society.

Cryptocurrency is one of them. Social media is another. Anything that involves more acronyms than actual words is an immediate no on his list.

Above all else, Bucky Barnes struggles to comprehend how exactly he became responsible for the group of walking disasters now hailed as earth's newest, mightiest heroes.

Looking at the pack of hellions in front of him, Bucky has serious doubts about that title.

Right in the middle of the tower's lobby, the Thunderbolts—the New Avengers now, apparently—are scattered like barbie dolls in the aftermath of a toddler's tantrum. John is standing against a column with a tight jaw, his left leg lifted gingerly, wrapped in a makeshift splint that looks suspiciously like someone's utility belt. Beside him, Yelena sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her as she cradles a bruised shoulder with an equally bruised hand. Alexei leans atop the front desk with a dried blood streaking down his temple, the young receptionist gone in fright the moment the team walked through the tower's entrance. Even Ava, usually one to disappear before debriefs, is visible for once, propped against the wall with her suit half-glitched and her expression blank.

Everyone is accounted for. Everyone is breathing.

But they all look like they rolled down a hill of bad choices where they banged their heads at every rock.

The mission was supposed to be a quiet recon, a simple surveillance on a rumored underground tech sale in an abandoned shipyard, low risk with minimal engagement. But then someone—Bucky still doesn’t know who—decided that they could handle it.

No heads-up. No plan.

Just four impulsive thrill-seekers interrupting a high-stakes black market deal involving high-tech plasma rifles and an offended buyer with too many goons.

By the time Bucky caught wind of what was happening, it was already chaos. He had to go in solo, extract the squad under heavy fire, disrupt the shipment, and reroute an entire response team of hostiles to avoid further catastrophe. They got out—just barely—and none of them seemed particularly eager to look him in the eye about it, especially after the thirty-minute tirade he launched into somewhere between fourth gear and a traffic jam.

From his place in front of the elevator, Bucky crosses his arms. “If any of you pull something like that again, you're all getting benched. Indefinitely.”

“What?!” Alexei roars.

Yelena scowls. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You don't get to make that call, Bucky,” John protests.

Ava nods. “We're not children. You can't just ground us whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah?” Bucky laughs. Sarcastically. “Watch me, kid.”

As if on cue, the elevator arrives with a ding. Bucky gestures curtly towards the opening metal door. “Inside. Now.”

Reluctantly, the team shuffles in like a group of sheep being herded back into their pen for a much-needed nap time.

For a beat, the only sound that settles inside the cramped space is the low mechanical hum of the elevator ascending.

That is until Ava decides to speak up.

“I’m just saying,” she begins, “it wasn’t like we meant to crash the deal. We were just improvising.”

“Improvising?” Bucky exclaims, glaring at her. “You call tossing a grenade into an active negotiation improvising?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Yelena argues, crossing her arms. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Bucky screeches, his tone rising. “Walker nearly lost a leg!”

“It's just a sprain,” John clarifies. “Probably.”

“See? It's just a sprain!” Yelena repeats a little too cheerfully. “He'll be good as new in no time. Right, John?”

John nods, failing to conceal his wince when Yelena bumps her unharmed shoulder to his.

Bucky rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I’m in charge of you people.”

The elevator dings again at the top floor.

“You know,” Yelena says as the team stumbles out of the metal trapbox, “we technically stopped the deal. You're not giving us credit for that.”

“That’s because you weren't supposed to stop the deal. You were supposed to observe.”

“Back in my day, observe meant punch first, ask questions later,” Alexei quips.

Bucky lets out a scathing scoff that echoes through the air. “Right. Remind me again how many years you spent rotting in that Siberian prison, Alexei?”

“Well, that's not very nice,” John mutters.

“You know what else isn't nice, Walker?” Bucky growls. “Getting your asses lit up by dozens of machine guns because none of you seem to grasp the basic concept of following orders.”

The group swelters in a momentary silence.

“I mean, in our defense,” says Ava, “none of us actually got shot.”

Before Bucky can tell her off even further, a voice suddenly intercepts, “How fabulous! You guys didn't get shot? Geez, someone really should give you all a medal for that.”

The whole team stops in their tracks.

One by one, everyone turns their head towards the direction from which the voice has come. The view that greets them could probably send a perfectly healthy man straight into an early grave.

On the platform floor a few paces away, they find you standing with arms folded across your chest. Despite the bright lilt of your voice, your eyes are cutting as they assess the entire team with the judgement of a juror who has already decided on a guilty verdict. It's clear from your attire that you were freshly off work before going straight to the tower, and since everyone knows that you were supposed to be on a work trip to Philadelphia for at least another two days, it’s safe to assume that your ticket back was booked right around the time someone shouted “mission compromised!”.

It's a full ten seconds of shared disgrace before Yelena finally breaks the silence.

“You called her?” she hisses, landing an accusatory glare in Bucky’s direction.

“I did not.” Bucky scoffs. “And why does it matter if I did?”

“Bucky didn't call me,” you interject, your posture still rigid, your gaze still icy.

“Then who—no.” Yelena's eyes drift towards the kitchen, squinting as she takes in the figure trying to hide behind the doorway. “Bob.”

Ava snaps her head up. “Bob, you little shi—”

“That’s enough,” you jump in, moving sideways to conceal Bob from Ava's murderous line of sight. “He's got nothing to do with this. This is about you—all of you—and what a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing you just did.”

Under your scrutiny, the whole squad shifts like a pack of raccoons caught rummaging through the kitchen trash. The weight of your stare seems to age them all by a decade.

“I'm gonna give all of you two minutes to explain yourselves,” you declare, the authority in your tone indisputable. “And I already know what happened, so don't even think about trying to trick me.”

There is a lull in the air where everyone seemingly tries to process your demand.

When their mouths open again, what follows is not so much an explanation as it is a verbal dogpile. Everyone starts talking all at once—too loud, too fast, and entirely contradictory. John tries to lead with the logistics, only to be steamrolled by Alexei shouting something about creative liberty. Ava attempts to downplay the situation with a jovial “it was barely an explosion!” while Yelena throws her under the bus with a hasty “she started it!”.

Bucky—standing to the side with the posture of a man watching his funeral getting turned into a Dollar Store circus—doesn’t even bother stepping in. He knows better.

You hold up a single finger and the room quiets instantly, like someone pressing mute on a trashy sitcom argument. The stillness that follows is so heavy, even the lights begin to flicker in anticipation.

“But we got out fine!” Ava sputters, desperate to fill in the quietness, though her voice immediately thins when she adds, “Mostly.”

“Yeah! I mean, it's just a bruise here, a bruise there—everything's great.” Yelena grins.

Your sharp stare slides towards John, the lines between your eyebrows tightening as you take in the awkward angle of his injured leg. John nearly cowers under your piercing gaze.

“How bad is the damage?” you question, your voice booming throughout the surrounding space.

“What, this? Oh, it's not that bad. Probably just need to ice it then I'll be good as new—”

“Walker.”

It's hardly a secret that John is perhaps your least favorite person in that room, with you still clearly holding a grudge towards him for what happened with the Flag Smashers. The man is used to your constant cold shoulder by now. He expects it, even. More often than not, John finds himself wondering if you would ever warm up to him the way you have with the rest of the team.

And yet, as he now stands at the end of your long stare, John can't help but think that perhaps your silent treatment isn't really that bad. Especially if it means he doesn't have to be on the receiving end of the critical scrutiny you're currently aiming towards him.

The blond gulps.

“There's a forty percent chance it might be broken,” John admits. “But it's likely just dislocated. No big deal.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Get to the medbay and tell them to run a scan,” you command. “Alexei, go with him.”

“That's not necessa—”

The sharp glare you're sending him causes John's words to lodge in his throat.

Alexei springs right into action, steering John away from your ferocious perusal and back towards the elevator.

“C'mon, big guy,” Alexei bellows. “Let's go pay a visit to our doctor friends.”

As soon as the two men disappear into the elevator, your glower shifts towards the remaining two people standing behind Bucky. Yelena pretends to check her nails while Ava's eyes are roaming the ceiling with faux nonchalance, both a pathetic attempt to avoid the clear daggers in your stare. The ridiculousness would've made you chortle were you not livid beyond salvation right now.

“I want you two to go back to your rooms, clean yourselves up, and be back here in no more than thirty minutes,” you proclaim. “We'll continue our discussion after dinner.”

“Wait, hold on—”

“That's not—”

“Just go, you two,” Bucky interrupts, the blue in his eyes colder than the Arctic ocean. “That wasn't a request.”

The two figures slump in defeat, teetering towards the staircase with the speed of a turtle in a morning rush hour. You hear Yelena grumbling something in Russian under her breath, and you force yourself not to think about what the phrase might mean lest you want your skin to crawl in an even higher degree of vexation.

“Good gracious.” Bucky shakes his head.

Behind you, Bob emerges out of the kitchen, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as he approaches you like a wounded kitten.

“They're mad at me, aren't they?” Bob murmurs. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys fight with each other.”

“It's not your fault, sweetie,” you assure him, extending your hand and offering a comforting squeeze around his palm. “They're just being idiots right now. You did good, okay? Give it a few hours and I promise you, they'll forget about this already.”

Bob nods solemnly, his voice quiet as he excuses himself and trudges towards the common area. You release a breath as you observe him diving head first onto the sofa, burying his face in the cushion like a Victorian widow fainting onto her chaise.

Turning around, your eyes lock with another pair in blue. The smile on Bucky's face grows as he takes you in, his arms opening with all the intention to collect you in his embrace.

“Hey, doll. I've missed—”

“No. Stay right there.” You raise your palm, taking a step back. “I'm mad at you, too.”

Bucky blinks.

He watches you turn around and walk away from him, his arms coming down limp by his sides before he scutters after your retreating form. Bucky lingers in the doorway as you move about the kitchen, taking out pots, knives, and pans while slamming the cabinet doors shut in the process. You don't even spare him a glance as you start retrieving fresh ingredients from the fridge.

“Honey?” he calls out, voice meek beneath the echo of your knife slicing through onions on the counter. “C'mon, doll, you're really not gonna talk to me?”

“No.”

The chopping continues.

Bucky rubs his face.

“You know I'm just as disappointed in them as you are, right?” he begins. “Swear to God, doll, I had nothing to do with this. Didn't even know what those rascals were planning ‘till I got the call from Alexei. Told ‘em off as soon as I extracted them outta there.”

“Hm.”

Sighing, Bucky takes a tentative step forward, then another, finally closing the distance when he's sure you wouldn't smack him across the head with the chopping board in your hand. His fingers find purchase around your elbow, halting your movements, the gentleness aching as he spins you around to face him. The knife and half-sliced onion lie dormant on the counter.

“Hey,” Bucky utters, so softly that the air nearly swallows the word whole. “Talk to me?”

You heave in a shaky breath, evading his eyes. “What's there to talk about? I told you I'm pissed.”

“Okay, that part I already got.” Bucky chuckles, brushing the back of his palm on your cheek. “Help me understand why? At least tell me how I can fix it, pretty girl. Hm?”

Your silence quivers at the edges, growing more brittle with each swipe of Bucky’s touch on your skin. The walls around your heart crumble under his infuriating tenderness.

“When Bob called and said the team had gone radio silent, I—” you pause, swallowing hard, “—I thought something terrible happened. I booked the first train out of Philly before I even hung up.”

Bucky stays quiet, watching you with careful eyes.

“I couldn’t reach anyone. Not John, not Yelena, not Ava, not Alexei—not you. And the longer I waited, the worse it got in my head. I pictured the mission going sideways. All of you gone.” You inhale sharply. “I pictured all of you coming home in body bags.”

Bucky's heart breaks at the shudder he feels running through your back. His soul is already mourning over the loss of light he would usually find shining so brightly out of your eyes. It makes him cling to you just a tad bit tighter.

“Bob finally called me again to tell me that you're all fine. That you're on your way back. But that's not the point, Bucky.” You look at him then, your fingers flexing. “The point is, I should've never heard about all of this from Bob in the first place. I should've heard it from you.”

Bucky's shoulders sink. “I didn't want you to worry.”

You shake your head, eyes burning with the threat of unshed tears. “But I do worry, Bucky! That’s the point. I worry every single time. The moment all of you step out of this building, I'm counting down the minutes until you guys return to me again. You can't shield me away from that.”

He steps closer, removing what little bit of distance between the two of you until all of your atoms are nearly merged as one. “You're right. You are. I should’ve called. Should've trusted that you'd want to know, even if it might scare you.”

“It did scare me,” you whisper. “And I didn’t want Bob’s voice telling me everything was okay. I wanted yours.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs, his arms pulling you nearer. “No more leaving you out. I promise it’ll be me from now on. I'll tell you everything, doll. Always.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lungs, and just like that, you completely melt away under Bucky's touch. Your forehead drops against the line between his shoulder and chest, your fingers gripping his sides as though he was the very force keeping you tethered to earth. Meanwhile, Bucky's lips ghost over the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings, the contrasting temperature of his palms appeasing you with random patterns against your back.

“I don't know how this all started,” you confess. “I'm not sure when I began caring this much about those idiots, but I do. The thought of something happening to them—to you—to all of you…”

Bucky's arms tighten around your frame. “I know, honey. I feel the same way.”

“This is not what I had in mind, you know?”

You tilt your head back to stare at his face, your fingers tangling themselves in the soft waves that Bucky has been growing out over the past few weeks. He almost cut them all off several days ago, but after some convincing on your end—which may have included activities that found your fingers buried in the soft tendrils and his face buried somewhere else—you managed to talk him out of it.

Bucky's eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”

“Well… when you said that you were joining this team, I thought I'd never seen a more dysfunctional group of people in my entire life. I figured it'd be a miracle if all of you last a whole month without someone quitting or accidentally blowing each other up.” You chuckle, your eyes softening. “I didn't think I'd end up pacing the hallway every time you guys went out, worrying like some overworked mother of five.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh, his forehead falling onto your own. “I get it. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself stepping into the dad role either, but… here I am.”

“Yeah?” Your lips quirk up. “How did you imagine it then?”

“Well—” Bucky's voice drops, his breath warm where it fans against your skin, “—I figured it’d start with a little house, somewhere quiet. Nothing fancy. Just enough for us to start building a life in. I’d fix the place up real proper. You’d hum to yourself as you whip up one of those famous pies of yours, and I’d pretend not to stare.”

The cheeky grin on Bucky's face grows, prompting a laugh out of your chest. His thumb continues to trace idle circles upon your waist.

“Then, when you feel the time's right, we’d try for a baby. The old-fashioned way. Real slow, real sweet. I’d kiss you like I got all the time in the world, and make love to you like I didn’t.”

Something flutters inside your chest, like stardust stirring in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. The way Bucky is looking at you makes you feel as if you were the first breath of the universe itself.

“That's how I pictured us becoming parents,” Bucky adds, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Not… this. Whatever this is.”

You smile at the graze of his beard on your cheek, angling your head to capture him in a brief kiss.

“You know what I think this is, Buck?” you ask, teasing your lips against his own. “I think we should view this as a practice run. After all, how hard can it be to parent our own kid if we can do it to a group of five ridiculous, chaotic misfits, right?”

“Doll.” He sighs. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Depends.” You hum, your lips twitching in feigned innocence. “If you think I'm imagining you putting a baby in me… then yeah, you're absolutely right.”

Bucky swallows your cheeky grin with a kiss, grunting against your mouth as he presses you back against the counter. The muffled moans you let out are music to his ears, a lascivious melody that rushes straight towards places he reserves explicitly for you. His hands slip under your blouse, roaming the expanse of skin, drifting lower and lower in search for the one place that could send him straight to heaven and—

“Yelena! Give it back to me!”

“I told you it wasn't me!”

Bucky groans.

The shrill voices resonate all the way down to the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable echoes of footsteps thundering down the staircase. Bucky makes a guttural noise of frustration as his face slumps into the crook of your neck.

“I swear to God, I’m gonna ship them to Asgard one of these days,” he mutters.

You snort, brushing your fingers through his hair and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Let's put a raincheck on the baby-making, soldier,” you purr, smirking when it spurs on a rumble from Bucky's chest. “Looks like I've got a fight to break up before we have two dead superheroes on our hands.”

He groans again, this time at the loss of your warmth as you slip out of his arms. From the kitchen's doorway, you raise an eyebrow towards the common area, perching your palms on either side of your hips as you take in the havoc ahead.

“What the hell is going on here?” you snarl.

“She stole my snacks!” accuses Ava.

“I don't even like Jammie Dodgers, you lunatic!”

“What a lot of crap. We all know you'd even eat chicken off the ground given the chance, you pig!”

“Fucking asshole—”

“Hey!” you interrupt, your voice sharp as you march towards the two fuming Avengers. “You call each other any more names, then I promise you, you're gonna wish you got shot on that mission today.”

Bucky watches the whole interaction from the kitchen with his arms crossed and a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans against the counter, studying you with the quiet reverence of a man who has found the meaning of home after decades of searching. Even in the midst of this domestic madness, even with the team’s antics grinding on his last nerve, he wouldn't trade a single thing in his life for anything else.

There are still a lot of things in this world that Bucky struggles to understand.

But with you by his side, and his entire team watching his six, he knows that he's got nothing to worry about.

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leclerc-hs · 2 months ago

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romantic chocolates? - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your best friend accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolates OR you both get so fucking horny that you’re delirious warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, all smut. dirty talk, dry humping, slight breeding kink?, language, slightly mean charles!, NOT PROOFREAD (might be some typos lol) word count: ~2.8k author's note: this is a follow up to THIS anon request that i wrote for lando. here is a charles version :) hope you guys like!! sorry if you don't LOL. let me know what you think :))

ln4 cl16 mv1 op81 cs55 ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You’re not sure when you stopped paying attention to the movie.

You remember falling into the couch cushions. You remember a few glasses of wine. Laughing, half-curled into a blanket. His hoodie. Your legs bare. Normal.

And then the chocolate.

Just a couple of fancy pieces neither of you bothered to read the label of. You tucked them into your purse after one of Charles’ sponsor events.

It creeps in slowly.

First it’s pure heat. Not just on your skin, but beneath it. As if the blood in your veins was on fire. Curling behind your ribs, spreading deep into your belly and in between your legs.

You’re flushed. Wearing his hoodie, legs bare and tucked together.

You shift slightly, but throb as you feel the damp fabric of your panties rub against your clit.

You freeze.

You can feel everything. The way your panties cling to you, soaked. How swollen you are. How your pussy clenches around nothing, over and over. Like it’s bracing for something it needs but doesn’t have.

You glance at Charles, but he hasn’t looked at you at all. In a while.

He’s sitting stiffly, forearms on his thighs, bent over. Breathing heavily.

And then he shifts a little bit. It’s a small movement, but it has his hips twitching. And you can see the thick outline of his cock through the fabric of his sweats. Hard, heavy, and fucking throbbing.

His breath hitches, a small groan pushing past his lips. Quiet. Like he didn’t even mean to do it, but couldn’t not.

You bite your lip, pressing your thighs together tighter.

And he turns his head toward you, not all the way. Not meeting your eyes. Just looking in your direction.

“I’m fine,” He says, but his voice sounds wrong. Strained. Rough.

You don’t even speak before he’s talking again.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “This is so fucking bad. My skin feels like its on fucking fire.”

You catch his eye. Nodding. Agreeing.

And he groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

You blink, a little confused. “What?”

“I can’t fucking stop,” he says. “Like I keep trying not to…I swear, but the thoughts..they just keep coming.”

You straighten your back, slightly tense.

“I’m trying to ignore it,” his voice is shaking now. “Trying to sit here and pretend like you’re just…you. My best fucking friend. But I’m so fucking hard I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

You stare at him. His voice is wrecked. Like he’s in so much pain.

“It actually fucking hurts,” he runs a hand through his hair. “I haven’t even touched myself and I swear I’m about to come in my fucking pants like some pathetic virgin.”

Your breath hitches. Your core clenching.

“I shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Not you.”

“Charles…”

“I keep picturing it,” He continues on. Unable to stop his admissions. “You. Spread out on this fucking couch. Panties pushed to the side. Pussy dripping while I hold your hips and fuck into you like I don’t give a shit what it means.”

Your thighs involuntarily squeeze together. And you’re aching.

He still doesn’t look at you. He falls back into the cushions, head back as he looks at the ceiling. There’s a damp spot on his sweats now.

“I want to fucking ruin you. And I shouldn’t….fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking this.” He grunts, like he’s angry. Frustrated.

You clench. Soaking.

“I want to grab you by the neck, bend you over the fucking couch and fuck you so hard that you cry.”

And you fucking whimper.

He laughs. It’s low and mean.

“You’d cry for it, wouldn’t you?” He says. “You’d sob right into the cushion while I split you open. Begging for more while I used your soaked cunt like it was fucking mine.”

His hips twitch, cock leaking so much that the wet spot on his sweats gets bigger.

“Can I touch myself?” He begs. Pleading. He looks at you now. His pupils blown wide. “Please…fuck, I need to.”

You gasp. A few moments pass and you’re nodding your head.

He doesn’t pull his sweats down all the way. Just slips his hand under the waistband, sinking his hand into the soaked fabric and fucking groaning.

“Fuck,” He chokes. “M’fucking aching baby.”

The nickname makes your stomach clench as he tips his head back. Neck flushed red. He lets out a moan, hand stroking himself slowly under the fabric.

You can see the movements of his hand. His arm flexing with each pump, his hips shifting as he chases it.

“Bet your pussy’s a fucking mess right now,” He grunts. Sqeezing his cock just a little bit harder. “Warm and swollen. Clenching around nothing like it just wants to be fuckin’ filled.”

He fucks himself into his hand harder. Sweatpants dragging over his wrist.

And you can hear it. The wet sounds as he pumps himself.

“Gonna let me see it?” He huffs. “Gonna show me that sweet little pussy, yeah? Show me how bad you need it too?”

You whimpers. And his breath fucking hitches at the sound.

He turns his head, still resting against the cushions, and fucking groans.

“You really just gonna sit there with that soaked little cunt like you don’t know what to do?”

And you swallow. Fucking hard. Panting. As your hand slips beneath the hem of the hoodie, fingers slipping down to your core.

“Fucking finally,” Charles grunts.

You slip your fingers into your panties, and outright moan.

Charles moans almost immediately. Jaw slack at the sound of you.

Your panties are soaked. Slick drags against your fingertips instantly, clit so swollen that it throbs.

“Touch your clit for me,” He pants. “Rub it slow. Wanna hear what you sound like when you’re trying not to come.”

You breathe in sharply. Dragging small, tight circles with your fingers shaking.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He fists himself harder, but slower. Like he wants to hold out for as long as possible. “Is it messy? Can you feel how fucking wet you are?”

You nod, eyes falling shut.

“Bet I’d slip in so easy.” He’s babbling. “Push those panties to the side and fuck you so deep.”

Your hips rock, and you rub harder. Panting now.

Charles jerks himself faster, his stomach tensing. Watching you. Devouring you. But it’s not enough. His hips keep twitching like he needs more.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks. “I can’t…fuck. I can’t take this anymore.”

And you barely register what’s happening before his hand’s around your wrist, dragging it from between your thighs. Gasping, as he pulls you into his lap.

He sits back, legs spread, eyes wild, cock still trapped beneath his sweats. And he’s already grinding up into you. So fucking desperate. So fucking hard.

You moan the very second you settle on his cock. Panties dragging against him.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” He mutters, voice cracking. “I’m trying…fuck, I’m trying not to ruin you. But you keep rubbing that little pussy on me like you’re aching for it.”

You roll your hips again. Slow. Heavy. Torture.

And his hand slides beneath your panties this time and he fucking groans when he feels it.

“Fuck,” He cries. “You’d let me fuck you like this, yeah? No prep. No warning. Just bend you over this couch and shove it in.”

You moan so loud that it echoes in the room. Your body trembling as you straddle him, the pace of your hips increasing.

His fingers circle your clit, rubbing.

“Look at how messy you are,” He groans. “Dripping all over me like you want me to come in my pants.”

You’re both a mess.

Grinding into him like you’re trying to become one. His hands are gripping your hips, controlling your movements. Pushing you into him harder.

“Gonna come,” He’s voice is absolutely wrecked. “Gonna fucking come…fuck, baby I’m gonna…”

You whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders as you drop your head forward. It hits you at the same time.

You cry out, grinding down hard as your orgasm rips through you. Your heat gushing as you rut against the ridge of his cock. Soaking him.

And Charles is groaning loudly. Spilling into his boxers.

“Fuck…fuck. Oh…fuck,” he’s panting, shaking. “Came in my fucking pants like a pathetic virgin. My God.”

You’re both breathing heavy, the roll of your hips coming to a halt as he holds you against him.

Both panting. Both shaking.

But he’s still so fucking hard. Cock twitching and throbbing beneath you.

“Turn around.”

And you barely register the command before he’s pushing you off, and bending you right over the couch. It’s rough. Face pressed into the cushion, ass bare beneath the hoodie.

“Still so fucking hard,” He sounds angry. “Came in my fucking pants and it didn’t even help.”

You hear the drag of fabric being shoved down. His cock slapping against your ass as he lines up.

He bends you over the couch like he’s been waiting his entire fucking life for it. Sleep shorts and panties pushed halfway down your thighs. He doesn’t bother wasting the time to take them off. Just grabs your hips and shoves it in.

And you scream.

“Fuck,” He pants. “Feels so fucking good. So fucking wet…gonna lose my fuckin’ mind over this cunt.”

You feel your legs start to shake.

“Could’ve been nice and slow,” His voice is low. “But now?”

You whimper, muffled by the press of your face into the cushions.

He thrusts with one deep, hard shove again.

Your cunt clenching around him instantly. Fucking soaked.

“Look at that,” He pants. “Took it all in one go. Like your slutty cunt’s been begging for me this entire time.”

You try to speak, but all that comes out is a breathy moan.

And he grabs your hips harder, the pads of his finger tips squeezing, and starts fucking into you with no remorse.

“Y’like that?” He grunts. “You like getting your best friend’s cock shoved into you?”

You sob. “Yes, fuck…Charles.”

And his hand comes down on your ass. It’s loud and sharp.

“Can’t believe this,” He sounds frustrated. “Can’t believe I’m fucking my best friend. Bent over the fucking couch, dripping all over me.”

He thrusts harder. And you’re babbling. Moaning. Yelling his name out.

“Tell me,” he’s breathing heavy. “Tell me you like it. Tell me you like my cock inside you.”

“I do,” You cry out. “I do, don’t stop.”

His hips falter, stuttering at the weight of your words.

“Sound so fuckin’ hot when you moan like that.” The pace of his hips is increasing, like he can’t get to his orgasm fast enough. And he’s still fucking throbbing inside of you. “Been thinking about it all fuckin’ night. What you’d sound like when I finally shoved my cock inside of you.”

“Feels so good,” you gasp. “So full. Don’t want it to stop..fuck.”

And you’re clenching so hard around him that you can feel him trembling. Breathing uneven.

“I’m gonna come,” You moan. “I’m gonna fuckin’ come again.”

And he leans forward, one hand slipping into your hair, gripping it, and dragging your back up just a little bit as he grinds his cock into you.

“Yeah?” He spits out. “Gonna soak my cock? Gonna come on your best friends dick like some pathetic whore?”

And you fucking do. Hard. Legs trembling, pussy clenching him so tight.

He babbles through it. Grinding into you with such a feverish pace, it has you screaming.

“Fuckin’ hell. Feels so fuckin good baby. Pussy’s so fuckin’ warm.”

And he slams into you one last time, hips jerking. Moaning absolute nonsense against the back of your neck.

You’re both breathing heavily. Collapsed over the back of the couch, his cock still buried deep in you. Panties stretched at your thighs.

And he starts moving again.

Pulls out with a slow drag that makes you feel empty. And you hate it. Whining. His come is sticky against your thighs, walls clenching.

His cock hangs heavy, flushed an angry red. Still leaking. Still fucking throbbing.

“On the floor.” He pants. “All fours.”

And you do. It was almost pathetic how fast you moved. Like a bitch in heat.

And he thrusts back into you with a loud groan.

“You feel like fucking heaven.” He chokes out. “Never gonna stop thinking about this.”

Your arms give out, face pressed flat to the floor as he pounds into you. It’s sharp and brutal.

“Charles..” You’re crying.

“I know,” he breathes softly. “I know, baby. C’mon. Give it to me again.”

And you yelp as it crashes over you. Milking him. Sucking him in deeper.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me…fuck…fuck.fuck.”

His hips snap one more time and he comes again, with a loud moan. Filling you again. Cock twitching inside of you, still so hard it’s almost not real.

And he’s laughing.

“Still so fucking hard.” He presses soft kisses to your spine. “Gonna fuck you so many times, you won’t remember where you even are.”

And his hips never stop moving. Even after he’s come, even after you collapsed into the carpet on the floor, his cock stays inside of you.

And he keeps fucking you.

Deep and claiming.

Fingers bruising your hips, cock slipping in and out of you.

“Y’gonna take it again. All of it.” He grunts. “Every drop.”

He cant stop.

“Gonna make sure you’re dripping my come for hours. All over your thighs. All over the place.”

And he grabs you by the hair, pulling you up just to whisper into your ear. Hotly.

“Want you walking around tomorrow with my come still inside you.” And you fucking sob.

The room is quiet now.

You’re curled up on the floor, a blanket beneath you now, limbs sore. And Charles is behind you, one arm on your waist. Chest pressed to your back as his lips graze the skin of your shoulder.

His hands trail all over your body, gentle and slow.

And you can still feel his cock against you. Still aching.

“You okay?” He mutters against your skin. Peppering soft kisses against it.

You nod. His hand slips down between your thighs. And he groans when his fingers dip into your folds.

“Still leaking, yeah?” He whispers.

And you press back into him without thinking.

“Can’t stop thinking about your pussy.” His voice is rough. Wrecked. Hoarse. “Need to fuck you slow baby.”

Your breath falters. And you nod.

He slips in easily. And you both groan softly into each other.

“Could stay here forever.”

You shift slightly, giving him a better angle.

“Gonna milk me again?” He says. “Gonna take all my come, yeah? Until I have nothing left to give?”

You don’t answer. Just roll your hips back against him.

He fucks into you slowly. Unhurried. Like he never wants to stop being inside of you like this.

And he’s quiet. For once.

His lips brush against your shoulder. “Think I’ve wanted you like this for a long time.”

And his thrusts are slow and deep.

“Started wondering too much. Didn’t want to ruin anything.”

You let out a soft whimper. His hand stretched across your stomach. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Feeling you like this,” He starts, choking on his words. “And it makes me think…maybe it was always you.”

And your chest aches at the words.

“I think I’ve always been yours.”

His hips halt. Still. Only for a second.

Processing your words.

And then he fucks into you harder. Not rough. Just more feverish. Like he wants to claim you for eternity.

“I love you,” he gasps. “Fuckin love you. Didn’t know what to do about it. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

You turn your head, catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss thats all tongue.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth.

And that’s all it takes.

He groans, spilling inside of you. His forehead pressed into your neck. Shaking.

You both settle in silence again. Just the sounds of you breathing and the TV heard.

He’s still inside you, chest pressed to your back, an arm curled around your waist. Both barely able to move. His cock finally softening.

“Seriously what the fuck was in that chocolate?”

You blink. And then you laugh. Loudly. Tears filling your eyes.

And Charles smiles against your shoulder.

“Wasn’t just the chocolate, you know that?” He says quietly. Peppering kisses.

“I know.”

His nose trails along your skin, nudging your neck. “We should buy more though.”

And you laugh.

“Down."

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#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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enhaflixer · 4 months ago

Text

ENHA HARD HOURS: reaction to you tying them up. bf!enhypen x f!reader cw (18+ MDNI) : bondage, nippleplay, overstim, degradation, facesitting, cockslapping, humiliation, crying big fat tears, swearing so explicit no words for my ovulation demon fic obvs

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

Heeseung thought this would be easy.

When you straddled his hips and secured the restraints around his wrists, he just grinned, stretching his arms like he was comfortable, like this was just a fun little game that he was going to win.

“Damn, baby,” he chuckled, smirking up at you. “You really wanna keep me in place that bad?”

But now?

Now, Heeseung isn’t smirking anymore.

He’s panting, his chest heaving, his wrists straining against the restraints because he desperately, desperately needs to touch you. But he can’t. He’s completely at your mercy, and fuck, it is killing him.

His cock is already so hard it hurts, flushed deep red, thick and leaking, the veins along the shaft standing out with every desperate pulse. It’s long, perfectly curved, the kind of dick that feels dangerous—one that stretches you so deep it makes your legs shake every time.

It’s twitching in anticipation, the swollen tip glistening, because you’re kneeling between his legs, your hands wrapped around the base, and Heeseung is fucking dying.

“F-fuck, baby,” he breathes, his voice wrecked, his head pressing back against the pillows. “Please—”

You hum, tilting your head as you drag your thumb over his slit, spreading the wetness, watching the way his thighs clench in response.

“You’re already shaking,” you murmur, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his tip.

Heeseung lets out a helpless little whimper, his lip trembling, his eyes fluttering closed as he tugs at the restraints again.

“I—fuck, I can’t,” he gasps. “Let me touch you—please, baby, please—”

You just grin, your breath hot against his aching cock, before you finally wrap your lips around him—slow, wet, torturously soft.

He whines.

Like, full-body tremble, desperate, broken fucking whines.

“Ohhh, f-fuck, baby—”* His voice shakes, his head lolling to the side, his mouth falling open, his brows furrowing tight in pleasure.

You take him deeper, your tongue dragging along the underside, your throat tight around him, and Heeseung lets out a wrecked sob, his hips jerking up involuntarily.

“Shit—s-shit, I—” His fingers curl tight in the restraints, his muscles locking up, his face a perfect mix of agony and bliss as he tries so fucking hard not to come already.

His Adam’s apple bobs, his jaw clenching, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes on you, watching the way your lips stretch around his cock, the way your tongue flicks so perfectly over his slit.

“Oh my f-fucking god,” he gasps, his whole body jerking, his thighs trembling hard.

You pull off with a slow, wet pop, licking the tip, smirking as his hips twitch beneath you.

“You look so good like this, baby,” you murmur, letting your tongue drag over the thick vein along his shaft, savoring the way his abs clench tight in response.

Heeseung lets out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping at nothing, his head tilting back sharply.

“Y-you’re—”* he chokes out, voice so wrecked it barely sounds like him anymore. “You’re so fucking evil—”

You just laugh softly, before taking him all the way down, your throat swallowing around him, sucking deep and slow.

It fucking breaks him.

“Ohhh—fuck, f-fuck, baby, I—” His voice cracks, his entire body locking up, his muscles going rigid as he yanks at the restraints, so fucking desperate to grab you, to pull your hair, to hold onto something—but he can’t.

All he can do is take it.

“Fucking hell, I—oh my god—” Heeseung’s brows furrow so tight, his jaw slack, his thighs trembling violently as he fights it—as he fights losing himself completely.

But when you swallow around him again, moaning softly, Heeseung lets out a shattered sob, his head thrown back, his throat exposed, his hips jerking helplessly.

“I’m—I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, baby, I—”

You suck him down one more time, hard and deep, and Heeseung breaks completely, his whole body arching off the bed, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as he comes so hard he nearly blacks out.

You swallow everything, sucking gently, working him through it, feeling the way his thighs shake violently, the way his body shudders beneath you, completely fucking wrecked.

When you finally pull back, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his oversensitive tip, Heeseung lets out a weak, breathless laugh, his chest still rising and falling heavily.

You smirk, trailing your fingers up his stomach, watching the way his abs clench in overstimulation.

“Still think this was gonna be easy?” you tease, voice all sweetness and innocence.

Heeseung just lets out a shaky exhale, his arms going completely limp in the restraints, his face still blissed-out and wrecked.

Then, finally, his head lolls to the side, and he lets out a low, exhausted groan.

“Never fucking again,” he mutters, his voice hoarse as hell. “Never—fucking—again—am I letting you tie me up.”

You just grin, untying his wrists, pressing a soft, mocking kiss to his forehead.

“Sure, baby.”

But you both know he’s lying.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Jay has always been a giver.

It’s just the way he is

Right now, he’s tied up beneath you, completely helpless, his wrists bound tightly to the headboard, his broad chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven breaths, his jaw clenched so fucking tight he looks like he might actually lose his mind.

You’re riding him slow, rolling your hips in deep, dragging circles, feeling every inch of him stretch you perfectly, every little vein and ridge pressing inside you just right—but you never let him have more.

You keep it lazy, keep it slow, torturing him with every single movement.

“You look so fucking good like this, baby,” you murmur, leaning down, letting your lips brush over his ear, your breath hot against his feverish skin.

Jay lets out a wrecked, shuddering exhale, his fingers flexing uselessly against the restraints, his muscles tensing so hard you can feel them rippling beneath you.

“Can’t even touch me,” you continue, mocking, grinding down just a little harder, feeling the way his cock twitches inside you at the words.

His throat bobs, his lips parting, his eyes completely blown out, a desperate, frantic glaze taking over his normally confident expression.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out, his head tilting back, his biceps straining against the silk ties, yanking just enough to test them—but not enough to break free.

Because Jay is too good, too willing to give you whatever you want.

You just want to ruin him.

“You’re always so in control, aren’t you, baby?” you purr, dragging your nails down his chest, watching the way his abs clench and flex under your touch.

“Always making sure I feel good first?” Your nails scratch lightly over his nipples, and his breath stutters, his thighs twitching beneath you.

“Always such a good husband for me.”

Jay lets out a wrecked, filthy groan, his head tilting to the side, his jaw going slack, his lips parting on a helpless, choked-out moan as he bucks up instinctively—but you press your hand against his stomach, forcing him still.

He whimpers.

Actually, fucking whimpers.

Fuck, you love it.

“Look at you, baby,” you whisper, mocking. “All tied up and still trying to take care of me.”

Jay gasps, his body shuddering beneath you, his cock pulsing so hard inside you that you can feel him losing control.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?” you murmur, letting your tongue flick out against his earlobe, biting down softly, dragging your nails down his arms where he’s straining against the ties.

“Wanna hold my hips, wanna flip me over and fuck me into the mattress, right?”

Jay groans—loud, deep, so wrecked it makes your whole body tighten around him.

“Fuck—fuck, baby, I—” His voice catches, his chest heaving, his hands clenching into fists as he struggles, trembles, tries so hard to hold himself together.

“Can’t, baby—”* he gasps, eyes squeezing shut, his head tilting back sharply. “Can’t—can’t take it—”

You grin, shifting forward, grinding down deeper, your lips brushing over his panting mouth, just barely not kissing him.

“You don’t get to take anything,” you whisper, cruel and sweet all at once, dragging your tongue along the seam of his lips before pulling away.

“You get what I give you.”

Jay sobs..

His whole body tenses violently, his breath coming in sharp, broken gasps, his thighs trembling uncontrollably beneath you.

“Please,” he gasps, his voice wrecked and desperate, his hips jerking up helplessly, his abs clenching. “Please, baby—let me—fuck, I need—please—”

You finally, finally, give him what he wants.

You start bouncing on his cock, fast, relentless, taking him deep and rough, making his headboard slam into the wall, and Jay fucking screams, his voice breaking, his eyes rolling back so hard all you see is white.

“F-fuck—fuck, I—I’m—” His entire body tenses, his muscles locking up, his jaw going slack, his fingers clawing at the restraints as he loses himself completely, coming so hard inside you it makes his thighs shake violently beneath you.

His whole body trembles, his lips parting around silent, choked-out moans, and you ride him through it, slowing down, grinding deep as he whimpers softly, his breath coming in sharp, erratic gasps.

When he finally comes back down, he just lays there, completely limp, his skin flushed deep red, his body still twitching from aftershocks, his head lolling to the side.

You reach up, untying the restraints, letting his arms fall to the bed, completely useless and weak, and he just groans, his lips parted, his entire body wrecked beyond belief.

After a long, breathless pause, he turns his head slightly, staring at you, eyes still glassy and dazed.

Then, finally, he lets out a weak, hoarse laugh, voice so fucked-out and exhausted it’s almost adorable.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his sweaty, overheated chest, tracing a finger down his still-trembling stomach.

“Still think you’re the one who’s always in control, baby?”

Jay just lets out a shaky exhale, tilting his head back against the pillows, a lazy, satisfied smirk forming on his lips.“I think,” he breathes, grinning, “I just fell even more in love with you.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake is so fucking frustrated he’s actually about to start kicking and screaming like a toddler.

He thought this was going to be fun—that you’d tie him up, tease him a little, then let him have you.

Oh, how wrong he was.

He’s tied to the bed, his wrists secured tightly, his body slick with sweat, his abs tensing uncontrollably, and you’re just hovering over him, your wetness dragging against the head of his cock, so fucking close but not giving him anything.

Jake is losing his fucking mind.

“Baby—baby, I swear to fucking God—” His voice is wrecked, raspy, and thick with frustration, his arms pulling against the restraints, his fingers flexing like he’s actually about to rip them apart.

You just smirk, dragging your nails down his trembling stomach, feeling the way his muscles clench violently.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you whisper, tilting your head, mocking him. “You look so… tense.”

Jake lets out a high, desperate groan, his thighs twitching, his cock throbbing angrily, a sharp pulse running through him every time you roll your hips just enough to tease.

“You fucking—”* he gasps, his eyes wild and unfocused, his lips swollen from biting them so hard, his hips jerking up just for you to press him back down.

“I swear to fucking GOD,” he growls, thrashing against the restraints, his head pressing into the pillow, his voice shaking. “If you don’t sit the fuck down on my cock right now—baby, I will scream so fucking loud the neighbors will call the fucking cops—”

Your eyes widen, caught between shock and amusement, and before he can say another word, you slap a hand over his mouth, muffling his wrecked little gasps, and shove two fingers past his lips.

Jake chokes on a whimper, his whole body arching violently, his tongue immediately latching onto your fingers, sucking so hungrily, so filthy, his cheeks hollowing out as he moans around them.

“That’s better,” you murmur, watching the way his eyes flutter, the way his breath stutters, the way his hips keep twitching desperately beneath you, like he physically can’t control himself anymore.

His fingers curl into fists, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths, his thighs trembling uncontrollably as he moans around your fingers, his whole body writhing beneath you.

“Such a fucking brat,” you purr, dragging your free hand down his throat, wrapping your fingers around it just enough to make him shudder.

“Always so fucking mouthy, always acting up—”* you press your fingers down slightly on his tongue, feeling the way it writhes against you, hot and slick, the way his lips tremble around them.

“Now look at you,” you mock, grinding down just a little, just enough to let the head of his cock push inside you, squeezing tight around the tip—but not letting him have more.

Jake screams into your hand, his back arching off the bed, his fingers flexing violently in the restraints, his whole body on the verge of breaking.

“F-fuck—fuck, I—please—”* his voice is a mess, muffled and wrecked, his hips jerking up wildly, but you slap his thigh hard, making him yelp into your palm.

“No, baby,” you breathe, smirking, pressing your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, feeling his tongue swirl desperately around them.

“You don’t get to act like a little fucking menace and still get what you want.”

Jake whines, actually whines, high and desperate, his eyes rolling back slightly, his breath coming in shaky, choked-out sobs.

“Y-you’re—oh, fuck—you’re so fucking mean,” he gasps, his words slurred around your fingers, drool slipping down the corner of his mouth, his whole body trembling like he’s on the verge of breaking completely.

You grin, finally pulling your fingers from his mouth, dragging them down his heaving chest, feeling the way his skin burns beneath your touch.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper, your lips ghosting over his ear, your voice sickly sweet and cruel.

“You haven’t even seen mean yet.”

Then, without warning, you slam yourself down onto him, taking him all the way in one deep, brutal motion.

Jake screams.

Not moans. Not groans.

A full, raw, broken scream, his head snapping back, his eyes rolling back so violently you almost think he passed out, his fingers pulling against the restraints like he’s trying to rip himself free.

“F-fuck—fuck, f-fuck, I—”* his voice cracks, his hips jolting up wildly, his whole body tensing violently beneath you, like he’s teetering on the edge of cumming already.

You don’t let him.

You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, rolling your hips in deep, torturous circles, feeling the way his cock twitches inside you, the way his thighs jerk helplessly, the way his breath comes out in weak, shaky gasps.

“You feel so fucking good like this, baby,” you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest, watching the way his stomach jumps under your touch, the way his lips tremble helplessly.

“Completely helpless, completely mine.”

Jake sobs, full-body shaking, his wrists pulling so hard at the restraints that the headboard is knocking against the wall, his hips stuttering violently.

“B-baby, please—fuck, I—”* he gasps, choking on his own moans, his voice so hoarse, so destroyed. “I c-can’t—please, please—”

You grin, dragging your tongue up his throat, biting down hard on his racing pulse, making his whole body jolt violently beneath you.

“Aww, baby,” you mock, grinding down even harder, feeling the way he chokes on a wrecked little cry, his whole body convulsing.

“Are you gonna cry for me?”

Jake screams, his thighs clenching beneath you, his cock pulsing so violently inside you that you know he’s seconds from breaking completely.

“I—I’m gonna—f-fuck, fuck, I—baby, baby, please, let me—”

You slam your hips down one last time, and Jake breaks completely, thrashing beneath you, his breath coming in desperate, choked-out sobs, his whole body tensing so hard it shakes the bed.

And when he finally goes limp, completely wrecked, his chest heaving, his throat raw, his body still twitching from the aftershocks, you grin, running a lazy hand over his sweat-slick stomach.

“See, baby?” you hum sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his panting mouth.

“That’s what you get for being a fucking brat.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon didn’t take you seriously at all.

When you told him about your friend tying up her boyfriend and ruining him, he just blinked at you, his expression bored, unimpressed.

“Okay?” he had said, scrolling through his phone.

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s it? No reaction?”

“What do you want me to say?” He finally looked at you, tilting his head lazily. “I mean, it’s not that crazy. You tie the guy up, tease him a little, make him beg, then fuck him. Right?”

You licked your lips, leaning in. “You think you could handle it?”

Sunghoon snorted, smirking as he leaned back against the couch. “Baby, please. I could handle you with my hands tied behind my back.”

Your smile turned dangerous.

“Then let’s find out.”

But in reality, Sunghoon is fucked.

His wrists are tied above his head, stretched tight, his chest slick with sweat, his abs flexing uncontrollably as you ride him with no mercy, bouncing on his cock, taking him deep, rough, and fast.

He literally hasn’t said a word in ten minutes.

At first, he grunted, let out those deep, guttural groans, his thighs tensing, his body shaking beneath you as he tried so hard to hold on.

His jaw is slack, his lips parted, his eyes completely unfocused, so fucking gone that he can barely even breathe properly.

“Too much, baby?” you mock, dragging your nails down his sweaty chest, watching his muscles twitch violentlybeneath your touch.

Sunghoon just nods frantically, his breath catching, his fingers curling uselessly against the restraints as his hips twitch up, completely involuntary, completely desperate.

“But you’re taking it so well,” you purr, grinding down deep, rolling your hips slow and heavy, making him feel every inch of you.

Sunghoon lets out a choked, breathless groan, his thighs trembling violently, his whole body locking up beneath you.

“G-gonna—f-fuck—”* His voice finally breaks, and then—

He comes so fucking hard that his whole body tenses violently, his head snapping back against the pillow, his chest heaving as his cock pulses inside you, filling you so deep you swear you feel it everywhere.

But you don’t stop.

Not even when his thighs twitch, not even when his stomach spasms, not even when his breath stutters violently, too overstimulated, too much, too good.

You just slow down, rolling your hips deep, teasing, milking him through it, your nails dragging over his flushed skin, your lips tracing down his chest—

You pull off him completely.

Sunghoon lets out a sharp, broken breath, his whole body trembling, but before he can even process what’s happening, your hand wraps around his cock, slick and so fucking sensitive, and you start stroking him all over again.

His head snaps up instantly, his eyes wild and unfocused, his lips parting on a silent, breathless moan as his body jolts violently beneath you.

“W-wait—fuck, baby—”* His voice catches, but you ignore him, leaning down, letting your lips brush over his flushed skin, your tongue flicking over his already-sensitive nipple.

You bite down.

Hard.

Sunghoon shouts—the first full sentence he’s spoken all night—

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!—”*

You just grin, suck harder, dragging your nails down his quivering stomach, feeling the way his cock twitches uncontrollably in your grip, his whole body rocking with overstimulation.

“Oh, baby,” you mock, licking the bruise forming on his swollen, overstimulated nipple, squeezing his cock just right, watching his abs flex violently.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, helpless moan, his breath coming in frantic gasps, his head thrashing to the side, but you just lick a slow, teasing stripe up his throat, biting another dark hickey into the soft skin just below his jaw.

“Everyone’s gonna see that one, baby,” you whisper, grinning against his feverish skin.

Sunghoon just shudders violently, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw going slack as his cock pulses in your grip, his breath coming out in sharp, erratic gasps.

“Ohhh, f-fuck—fuck, I—”* His whole body locks up, his fingers weakly twitching, his thighs spasming— he comes again, his hips jerking helplessly, his chest rising sharply, his lips trembling from how hard he’s shaking beneath you.

But you don’t stop.

Not until he’s come four whole times, his breath ragged and uneven, his body twitching violently, his lips parted in silent, choked-out sobs, his wrists weakly flexing against the restraints.

When you finally, finally untie him, letting his arms drop, he just lays there, completely limp, his chest heaving, his eyes unfocused.

After a long, shaky exhale, he blinks up at you, his face completely wrecked.

Then, finally, he lets out a hoarse, breathless laugh, his voice weak and ruined.

“You milked me dry like a fucking cow.”*

You just grin, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his damp forehead, brushing his hair out of his face.

“You were perfect, baby,” you whisper sweetly, kissing him like he’s the most magnificent, precious thing in the world.

Sunghoon lets out a tired, shaky exhale, his body still trembling beneath you, his eyes fluttering shut.

“There’s something fucking wrong with you,” he mutters.

You just laugh, kissing his jawline, his nose, his flushed cheeks.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo was always dramatic, but this?

This was a new level.

“You want to tie me up?” He gasped, clutching his chest, staring at you like you’d just suggested burning his wardrobe. “Baby, are you planning on murdering me?”

You rolled your eyes, straddling his lap and pinching his cheek, making him pout even harder.

“No, baby,” you murmured, running your fingers down his jaw, tilting his chin up. “I just wanna see you squirm.”

Sunoo huffed, looking anywhere but at you, but you caught the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched slightly against your thighs.

“I don’t squirm,” he said stubbornly.

You smirked, leaning in, whispering against his lips—

“We’ll see about that.”

An hour later, Sunoo is tied up and completely fucked out, his wrists bound tightly to the headboard, his chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow breaths, his pretty lips swollen from all the pouting and whining he’s been doing.

But the best part?

He still hasn’t cum.

You’ve been playing with him for what feels like forever, keeping him on edge, bringing him right to the brink of release, then pulling away at the last second—again and again and again..

His cheeks are flushed deep pink, his eyelashes damp with unshed tears, his thighs trembling as he tugs uselessly at the restraints.

“B-baby, please—” His voice is soft, desperate, breathless, his lips trembling as he squirms beneath you.

You grin, dragging your nails down his stomach, watching the way his body jolts violently at the sensation.

“Please what?” you murmur, your fingers hovering over his leaking cock, but not touching him at all.

Sunoo whimpers, his hips twitching helplessly, his fingers clenching into fists.

“I—”* he gasps, his head tilting back, his pretty throat exposed and begging for attention, his chest rising sharply.

You take advantage of it, leaning down, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the delicate skin just below his collarboe, sucking until you know it’ll leave a mark.

Sunoo gasps sharply, his whole body tensing beneath you, his breath stuttering as a wrecked little whimper slips past his lips.

“You’re so mean,” he pouts, his voice cracking on the last word, his wrists twisting against the ties like he wants to throw a tantrum.

You just smile, letting your lips trail down his collarbone, over his flushed chest, lower and lower.

“Oh—fuck—” His voice breaks completely, his eyes squeezing shut, his thighs snapping together in frustration.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur, kissing your way down his chest, your hand finally, finally wrapping around his aching cock. “You’re shaking.”

Sunoo lets out the most desperate little noise, his breath catching, his whole body going taut beneath you.

“B-baby—”* he gasps, his voice so high and sweet and helpless it makes you clench around nothing.

“Shhh,” you coo, stroking him slow, torturous, teasing, feeling the way his cock twitches uncontrollably in your grip. “Be my good boy and take it.”

Sunoo whimpers, his fingers flexing uselessly, his breath coming in short, frantic little gasps.

“I—I c-can’t—”

“Yes, you can, baby,” you whisper, dragging your thumb over the swollen, sensitive tip, watching as his stomach tenses sharply, his breath stuttering in his throat.

Sunoo shakes his head frantically, his lips trembling, his eyes squeezed shut so tight that tears slip down his cheeks.

“B-baby, please—p-please, I—I need to—”

You lean in, lips brushing against his ear, your voice soft, teasing, dripping in affection—

“Then cum for me, baby.”

Sunoo lets out a sharp, shattered little cry, his entire body seizing up, his thighs clenching, his fingers curling into fists, his mouth falling open in a breathless, high-pitched moan as he finally, finally spills over your hand.

His chest heaves, his wrists straining weakly against the restraints, his whole body convulsing violently as he rides it out, his breath coming in ragged, uneven sobs.

When it’s over, when he finally collapses against the sheets, completely limp and wrecked, you untie his wrists, massaging the delicate skin where the fabric had been.

Sunoo’s eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, his lips still parted, his breath still unsteady.

“You,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, “are actually evil.”

You just laugh softly, pressing kisses to his damp forehead, his flushed cheeks, his trembling lips.

“But you were so good for me, baby,” you murmur, cupping his face, kissing him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

Sunoo huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically, but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his voice weak and breathless. “Now shut up and hold me.”

You just smile, curling up against him, feeling his breath slow, his body relax beneath you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

Jungwon was always so composed.

Always the one in charge, always the one controlling the pace, making you beg, making you squirm, dragging things out just to hear you cry for him.

“You get so cute when you’re desperate,” he had said once, watching you fall apart, mocking you while he kept you on edge for what felt like hours.

“I wonder how long I can make you last before you break.”

That night, you had cried for him.

Tonight, he’s going to cry for you.

You’re going to tear him apart, ruin him so completely that he’ll never, ever try to put you through that again.

By the time you’re finished with him, he won’t just be begging for release—he’ll be begging for mercy.

Looking back it almost makes you laugh because Jungwon is so far gone that it’s almost pathetic.

His wrists are bound tight to the headboard, his fingers curling helplessly, his thighs trembling violently, his cock twitching, untouched, leaking all over himself.

The worst of all?

He hasn’t cum once.

You’ve edged him so many times that his body doesn’t even know how to handle it anymore, his breath coming in frantic, choked-off sobs, his cheeks slick with real, wet, desperate tears.

“P-please—please, f-fuck, I can’t—” His voice is so hoarse, so completely broken, his breath ragged and uneven, his body twitching, shaking, begging for anything.

You just smirk.

“Aww, poor baby,” you mock, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at you, watching the way his lips tremble.

“You always act so tough.”

You drag your nails down his chest, watching the way his muscles tense, his abs flexing, his stomach spasming involuntarily.

“And now look at you.”

You slap his cock lightly, watching as his hips jolt up violently, his breath catching in a sharp, helpless moan.

“F-fuck—ohh, f-fuck, please, please, baby, I—I n-need—”

You slap him again.

Right on his leaking, swollen tip, precum splattering onto his stomach, his whole body jolting from the impact.

Jungwon screams, his thighs shaking uncontrollably, his wrists yanking at the restraints, but you just laugh softly.

“Oh, you need something?” you taunt, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at you, watching the way his swollen lips quiver.

“What do you need, slut?”

Jungwon sobs again, completely humiliated, his body betraying him.

“P-please—please, let me cum—please, I c-can’t, I c-can’t—”

You tilt your head, fake pouting.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper, voice sickly sweet, cruel, condescending. “You can’t?”

Then, you grab a fistful of his damp hair, yanking his head back, making his throat expose itself to you, his breath stuttering, a choked-off moan spilling past his lips.

“That’s funny, baby,” you whisper, dragging your tongue up his throat, feeling his pulse hammer violently against your lips.

“Because I remember you making me fucking beg. I remember you edging me until I was crying, just like this.”

Jungwon lets out a sharp, desperate sob, his thighs clenching, his hips twitching, completely lost in it.

“I—I’m s-sorry—please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so f-fucking good, I s-swear—”

You grin, gripping his chin harder, tilting his head up, forcing him to stare at you.

“You’re already my good little fucktoy, baby.”

You slap his cock again, harder this time, watching as his body twitches violently, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“My pathetic little bitch.”

Jungwon whimpers, actual sobs wracking through his chest, his tears slipping down his temples, pooling on the pillow beneath him.

“You gonna cry harder for me, baby?”

He nods frantically, completely lost, completely gone.

“P-please—please—please—”

“Then cum, you fucking whore.”

The second you wrap your lips around his cock, sucking him deep and tight, Jungwon fucking loses it.

His entire body seizes up, his legs shaking so hard the whole bed moves, his wrists pulling at the restraints so violently that the headboard slams against the wall, his mouth falling open in a broken, wrecked scream.

He fucking breaks.

Jungwon cums so violently his entire body shudders, his stomach spasming, his throat bobbing as sobs rip through him, his voice so destroyed he can’t even form words anymore.

You swallow every drop, humming around him, your tongue dragging along his overly sensitive tip, watching the way his body jerks violently with overstimulation.

But you don’t stop.

You stroke him through it, slow and tight, dragging every last drop from him, his cock pulsing, twitching, his whimpers turning into helpless, wrecked cries.

“T-too much—f-fuck, b-baby—”* His voice is so weak, so ruined, so utterly fucking destroyed that he can barely even breathe.

But you keep going.

You suck harder, dragging your nails down his trembling thighs, taking him all the way back into your mouth, and he shrieks, his whole body flinching violently, his breath catching in sharp little gasps.

“Oh, f-fuck—oh, f-fuck—oh my god—please—please—”

He’s struggling now, actively fighting against the restraints, his body jerking uncontrollably, trying to pull away, trying to escape—

But you don’t let him.

“Awww, baby,” you coo, mocking, your mouth still wrapped tight around his cock. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked being in control?”

Jungwon sobs, thrashing beneath you, actually trying to get away, but he can’t.

“N-no more—please—please, baby, I-I can’t—”

And then he cums again.

So hard that his whole body convulses, his legs shaking, his chest rising sharply, his voice breaking completely, his sobs turning into nothing but gasps for air.

This time, his body just stops working.

Even as you slow your strokes, even as you lick the last of him away, even as you finally pull off of him, Jungwon is completely still.

His head lolls to the side, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths, his body weak, trembling, completely destroyed.

He passes out.

You carefully untie his wrists, massaging his twitching arms, pressing soft kisses to his damp forehead.

Just as you start to move away his arms shoot out, wrapping around you like a fucking koala, pulling you into his chest so tight you can barely move.

“Shut the fuck up,” he mumbles, his voice wrecked, hoarse, completely fucking gone.

You grin.

“Sure, Won”

“You’re a fucking demon.”

You laugh softly, curling into him.

“I know, baby.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

“Come on, Niki,” you pouted, straddling his lap, holding the silk ties up with big, pleading eyes. “Just once. For me?”

Niki just raised an eyebrow, giving you that infuriatingly smug grin, stretching his long limbs behind his head like he wasn’t even taking you seriously.

“I don’t see the point,” he mused. “I’m already stronger than you. If I wanted to get out, I’d just… get out.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto his chest dramatically. “It’s not about that! It’s about the experience, the control, the trust, the—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” he mocked, rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’ll let you tie me up. If it’ll make you happy, baby.”

You perked up instantly, grinning as you grabbed his wrists.

“Finally!”

Now?

Now, you’re two seconds from losing your damn mind.

Because Niki is absolutely ruining this.

Every time you tie him up, every time you think you’ve got him right where you want him—

He fucking escapes.

Like it’s nothing.

Like you’re not even trying.

The first time, you had him tied up nicely, wrists secured, headboard shaking, your lips trailing down his throat—and the next thing you knew, he was flipping you onto your back, his arms suddenly completely free as he grinned down at you.

“What the—NIKI!” you yelped, smacking his arm. “How did you—”

“Baby, come on,” he laughed, scooping you up effortlessly, pinning you beneath him like the whole tying-up thing never happened. “I’m literally taller than you. Did you really think I’d stay tied up?”

You pouted angrily, wiggling under him. “THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”

Take Two: Riding Him?

“Just stay tied up,” you whined, adjusting the silk restraints around his wrists again, glaring at him. “And don’t you dare break free this time, or so help me—”

Niki snorted, smirking up at you as you sank down onto him, taking him deep, your hands braced against his chest.

“Mmm, I’ll try, baby,” he murmured, watching you grind down, slow and deep, his lips parting on a low groan.

For once, it seemed like he was actually taking it seriously.

You relaxed, rolling your hips, settling into the moment—

Until—

SNAP.

You felt it before you even saw it.

The ties? Gone.

His hands? Completely free.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even do it on purpose—he just shifted slightly, and the fabric came undone like it was fucking Velcro.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” you screamed, shoving his chest in frustration, but the bastard just laughed, gripping your hips, rolling you deeper onto him.

“You really thought that would hold me?” he mocked, tilting his head, grinning like the little shit he was.

“I SPENT FIFTEEN MINUTES TYING YOU UP!”

“And I appreciate the effort, baby,” he cooed, flipping you onto your back effortlessly, pinning you beneath him again.

“But let’s be real… you can’t actually keep me down.”

Final Attempt: Face-Sitting

At this point, you were ready to lose it.

“Okay,” you said, shaking out your hands like an athlete preparing for battle, retying his wrists so tight that there was NO WAY he was getting out.

“This time, you’re staying put.”

Niki grinned up at you, that cocky glint in his eyes. “Sure, baby.”

You scowled, climbing up, hovering over his face, settling your weight down as you finally—finally—had your moment of victory.

Or so you thought.

Because the second you lowered yourself onto him, the second his mouth made contact, his arms shot out, grabbing your thighs, yanking you down so hard you almost fell forward.

“NIKI! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE TIED UP—”

He didn’t even let you finish.

Didn’t let you breathe.

Didn’t even let you process the betrayal.

Because in the next second, he was devouring you like a man starved, his grip on your thighs bruising, pulling you down so tight against his face that you had no choice but to take it.

Your body jerked violently, your fingers gripping the headboard for dear life, your breath knocked right out of youas his tongue moved so filthy, so deep, so desperate that your brain literally stopped functioning.

“N-Niki—oh my god—”

Then you heard it.

He was laughing.

Actually laughing against you, like this was the funniest fucking thing in the world, like he had just won some kind of twisted competition you didn’t even sign up for.

That’s when you snapped.

“GET YOUR FACE OUT OF THERE, YOU MENACE!” you shrieked, trying to pry his head away, trying to push yourself up, but it was fucking useless.

He had you locked down tight, had you right where he wanted you, and there was no escape.

“Nope,” he mumbled into you, smug as ever, lips dragging slow and torturous, his tongue curling in a way that made you tremble uncontrollably.

“I think I like it better this way.”

You don’t know how long he kept you there.

It felt like forever.

Your thighs were shaking violently, your body weak and useless, your mind nothing but static as you finally collapsed against the headboard, trying to catch your breath.

Niki had the fucking audacity to grin up at you, wiping his mouth like he’d just finished a damn meal, looking completely unbothered.

“So,” he mused, tilting his head innocently. “How’d that tying-up thing work out for you?”

You glared, your body still trembling, still trying to recover.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You wanted to smack him, you really did.

But you had no strength left.

So you just flopped onto the bed dramatically, groaning into the pillow, accepting your fate.

“I give up,” you muttered.

“Oh, baby,” he purred, grinning as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you like he hadn’t just betrayed you on every level possible.

“You gave up the second you tried to tie me up.”

@naurwayyyyy @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @zzhengyu @annybah @ddolleri @kristynaaah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway143 @tiny-shiny @simbabyikue @koizekomi @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586

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metranart · 1 year ago

Text

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.”

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?”

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-”

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper.

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans.

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?”

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

“Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?”

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.”

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—”

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience.

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.”

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.”

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—”

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.”

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?”

“Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?”

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...”

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-”

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’”

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?"

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful."

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?"

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made."

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.”

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.”

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)

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plethorawrites · 6 months ago

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Thinking about Smallville Clark Kent who is practically a golden retriever around you and gets nervous about sleeping with you for the first time because he doesn't want to hurt you or alert his parents by accident, so he finds himself covering your mouth the instant you make a sound, entirely by mistake.

And he apologizes immediately, but doesn't remove his hand because you're still whining into it. He can't tell exactly if that's a good or bad thing, at first, until your eyes roll back, making his heart skip a beat and he finally realizes it is in fact a good thing. Finally bottoming out, he'd remove his hand from your mouth, panting from anticipation even though he's barely done anything.

"Please be quiet," he practically begs, pressing his forehead against yours, literally shaking with anticipation but trying to be as gentle as possible for you. "Can you do that for me?" He asks. You nod poorly but the second he makes the slightest bit of movement you're whimpering and he's covering your mouth again and apologizing for it.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love those little sounds, I promise. I just don't want anyone else hearing them but me." And it soothes you, of course, because you feel bad for not being able to stay quiet. Not that he's doing much better, only suppressing his moans by turning them into quieter grunts that he muffles by pressing his lips against your neck or biting down on your shoulder. "I can barely keep my mouth shut because of you," he praises. "I swear next time, I'll let you scream." And there was definitely a next time.

#headcanon #x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #smallville clark kent #smallville #clark kent #clark kent smut #clark kent x female reader #plethorawrites

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madamechrissy · 6 months ago

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Would you come with me?

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- kissing, fingering, masturbation, lots of jealousyy, they're idiots in love lol, teasing, TENSION, oral (f recieving) Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. Three parts- WC this Part- 7.6k

Songs for this - Birds of a Feather // Nonsense // Suffocate

Ty for all the love on part one!?!? I hope you all enjoy this part as well! We got one more after this <3 Comments and reblogs so appreciated always!

<<<Part One - Masterlist - Final Part>>>

Part Two

One month of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend.

“I’m nervous about this meeting, Satoru. Are you sure I’ll do alright?” You ask softly, as you both head to the elevator, a meeting that you know Satoru has been dreading himself, with the higher ups his dad usually deals with.

“You’ll do just fine, let me do the talking, you can just look all pretty.” He takes your hand as you all get into the elevator, squeezing it warmly, and you’re dying at how good that hand feels, and how good he feels, his strong arm brushing against you as you both watch the elevator doors shut.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You could never. You’ve been a perfect wife this month, I promise.” His sweet grin, just a little crooked melts you, as you exhale in relief. “I’m getting a lot done with this, I swear… I know you probably wanna get back to normal life.”

The hurt in his words immediately makes you pull back, and Satoru curses himself, taking your hand again, as you two ride up the floors, but you pull away, shaking your head. “Are you so eager for me to go?” Your voice is quiet, trying not to reveal what that makes you feel like fully.

“What!? No, not at all. I meant… if you wanted to.” Satoru’s heart breaks when he sees your dewy eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant it may not take a year, if you wanted to…”

“I’m glad it’s helping, really.” You give him a small little smile, and Satoru can barely concentrate on what he’s here for, when he wants to wrap you in his arms, to kiss you fully, not just pecks for appearances.

And god those kisses to prove you’re together make the lines blur, makes everything so confusing and jumbled for him. He’s having so much trouble remembering that it’s for show, when you all watch movies at night still, when you both have dinner together, when you’re washing dishes side by side. When you’re having coffee on his balcony in the morning.

The one thing that keeps it ‘fake’ is the separate rooms, but the amount of times Satoru has played with himself in the room next to yours has gotten insane, the number of showers he has to take so he hopes you won’t hear him. Lately, he’s backed off just a bit, for his own sanity, so it hurts less when this is over.

“Toru, wanna watch the show tonight?” You ask, wearing one of his big tee shirts, it swamps you completely, tempting him to no end, thinking of slipping it up just so…

Shit.

“Nah, sorry not tonight. I’ve got work to do.” He says, hating the little down turn of your lips.

“How late, I can wait!”

“Um… yeah I wouldn’t wait up.” You blink then, wondering have you gotten too comfortable with him? Have you been acting too much like a wife at home? You can’t help but enjoy him, enjoy your time together, are you overwhelming him with it all?

“Oh. Um, okay. Good night, then.” You smile sadly, aching to kiss him good night, knowing you shouldn’t want it, knowing you shouldn’t be desiring him right next to you, snuggling on that couch. God you’d love him in your bed even, holding you so close against him.

“Good night, sweets.” He murmurs, softly, not wanting you to think that you were the problem, no the problem is him.

He can’t stop picturing how every corner and nook in his huge home will be so very empty when you’re gone.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, not one thing, I swear you’re playing this perfectly. And I really appreciate you, yeah?” He says, but it’s not what you want to hear, because you’re not playing, not really, it’s just too fucking easy.

“Yeah, we got this.” You kiss his cheek softly, the friendly way you used to, as you all walk through the sliding doors where everyone is, all old men aside from a couple younger people scattered in seats in a row.

You tense, so he squeezes your hand, smiling at you, an upturn to pink lips as a room full of old money assesses you both, trying to reassure you. “Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, please have a seat.”

You nervously sit next to Satoru across from them now, your legs crossing as he casually leans back, one arm around the back of your seat, an ankle crossed over his knee, sunglasses right on his face. He’s so at ease, or so it seems, you are certainly learning more and more that Satoru tends to hide much of his anxiety with cracking jokes and sarcasm.

“Ah, the oldies, how goes it?”

“Ahem, oldies?” A blonde man raises a brow, and Satoru scoffs.

“You might as well be, Zenin. Old ass mentality.”

“Satoru, how is your father?” Asks an older man from another high company that works with the Gojos, Mr. Gakuganji.

“Ya really hoping he pulls through hmm? Even if so, he’s already appointed me, so don’t get too excited.” Satoru has an easy grin, fingertips brushing against your bare arm, leaning closer to you. “You’ve all met the wife?”

“Not all of us.” A pretty woman with long blue braids smiles at you. “Heard of her though, hello Mrs. Gojo. Mei Mei. Apparently so old.”

“Hello Mei Mei.” You greet with a small smile, looking at them all. “It’s going to be a pleasure to work with you all, I am sure.”

“Isn’t she just charming?” Mr. Naoya Zenin says, you feel Gojo’s fingers tighten in response.

“She is lovely.” Mei agrees, predatory smiles on both of their lips.

“Enough with the greetings, Gojo, you've made a lot of changes to this company in a quick manner.” Now Yaga, a tall imposing man that owns much of the shares of the company, speaks.

“Sure have, Yaga. Aw, mad you all got pay cuts? Poor things. Don’t worry, gave your extra to the employees.” Gojo says with a big white grin, earning the glares of everyone in the room.

“You’re not some Robin Hood.” An older man of the Kamo family says, raising a brow at Gojo, who chuckles.

“No, sure am not, I’m still rich and so are you all, just a little more evened out, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?” He looks to you, tilting down his glasses, and you take a breath, putting a hand on his thigh, silently supporting him.

“Employees are going to work harder and stay longer with better pay and better conditions, and cutting just a bit off the top accomplishes that.” You say, voice strong and clear as a bell, making Satoru so proud he can’t stand it, smiling big at you as the room collectively grumbles.

“You’re not the only one with interest in this company. What does your father think of this?” One of the older men asks.

“It’s my company already, it’s about to be official soon. So don’t worry.” Satoru says with ease. “Also, my wife was talking.”

“Your wife is certainly… hmm, very pretty, but a commoner.” Naoya says, earning Gojo standing up, chair screeching back.

“The fuck you say!?”

“Satoru…” You lean forward, touching his arm, looking at his furious stance as the room shifts.

“How is she a commoner? You’d be lucky to lick the ground she fucking walks on ya know that?”

“She’s clearly not a commoner, but… she’s not “rich" is what he means. She has no concept of wealth.” Mei says, and Naoya stands now as well, glaring right over at Satoru.

“She’s rich now, she’s my fucking wife.” The words feel so real from his infuriated voice that you can’t even separate it anymore, if this is some act you will just play right into it, even if it hurts. Him defending you is raw, you feel his fury next to him, trying to calm him and failing.

“It’s fine, baby.” You murmur, and hearing it, this little pet name from you? He immediately looks down, seeing your eyes wide with worry, he sighs now, sitting next to you, exhaling when you brush a hand up and down his back, then you look at the room. “I was not rich, no.”

“Your family was cut off for this sort of behavior. Is that what you want again, want for your children?” Mr. Gakuganji asks, a tired voice breaking through.

“I know better than anyone in this room what it’s like to live on a normal, even low income. Would you not welcome the insight, or are you so above caring about the people who line your pockets?” You demand softly, raising a brow, Satoru watches now as you proceed to wreck them.

He watches you debate them, raising each of them this point and that, and watches them all falter under a pretty little thing like you, usually soft spoken and sweet, but you have no problem decimating a room of them like it’s nothing. You smile so pretty at them all, bat your lashes and they land argument after argument, bouncing off what Gojo says.

Gojo is chuckling after about twenty minutes, as they seem to really think he couldn’t fuck them all if he felt like it. “What you’re forgetting, is I’m the highest up there is here.”

“Your father-”

“My father trusts me to take over. Plain and simple, are there going to be any problems? Millions not enough for you all, need golden toilets for your asses?” You barely hold in the snort of laughter, eyes bright as you watch him continue to disgruntle the room, until they finally let up.

Naoya walks up to you, eyeing you up and down as Satoru is talking to Yaga, who seems to be one of the more laid back of them all, his hands in his pockets, light brown eyes lit up. You tense at his gaze, feeling it like a slimy, disgusting touch, making you almost sick. You’re trembling as his eyes dissect you.

“Conveniently, he gets a bride the moment everyone pushes him.” He says with a nasty smirk, brushing a tendril of your hair back. “Don’t buy it.”

“Well, we’ve been in love forever, I assure you.” You say quietly, he hums to himself, when Mei walks over, and damn this woman just saunters, truly, hands on her curved hips.

“It’s so odd indeed, out of a list of so many eligible ladies. Was it true love, I wonder?” She taps her chin curiously, Satoru sees you then, coming by your side immediately, and arm around your waist.

Is he being a protective best friend or…

More.

Is this all just for show, as he pulls you to his side so possessively, making your pulse race, your body reacting as you look up at his face, and he’s scowling at the both of them. “Everything alright, sweets?”

“Yes, they were wishing us the best, weren’t you both?” You say, earning Naoya’s glare and Mei’s smirk.

“Indeed we were, we’ll see you at the auction I imagine?” Mei says, eyeing Satoru now.

“We’ll be there, of course. But for now, hmm…” He tilts your chin up, kissing you in a room full of people who want to hurt him, and hurt you, a protectiveness he’s always had for you becoming so intense it’s hard for him to function, he’d literally take down anyone and everyone that would dare say one thing to you even.

Your lips are sweet, so sweet, as you lean up and kiss him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and that same electricity sparks, even with all their seedy eyes on the two of you. He pulls back, looking at your lips, as you look into his eyes, already dilated and dark, when he clears his throat, smirking up at the shocked gazes.

“Are we all done here?” He asks, and then proceeds to take you out of that room, you finally catch a breath in the elevator, and Satoru grins at you, cupping your face with his big hands, bending down.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, earning his chuckle.

“You were amazing! How dumb am I telling you - look pretty and let me talk- shit I think it was the opposite?”

“No way…”

“Yes way. That was sexy.” He hums, you’re both giggling a bit, but you’re close, too close, and his thumb is brushing your lower lip, sending desire straight through to your tummy.

“I thought you were mad at me.” You whisper then, earning his smile turning down at the corners, his eyes a little distant and hazy.

“I could never be.”

The elevator doors open, the two of you walk out of the sliding glass doors of the enormous building, and you are trying not to touch the lips he just had, trying not to think of just how good they felt. The driver pulls up and you get into the car, Satoru slides in next to you, far too close, you inhale his cologne, you still taste him on your lips, like torture.

“I’m not mad at you.” He says again, you blink a bit, taking a breath, before looking up at him as the car drives onto the highway, gently moving underneath you both.

“You turned down movies for days. You won’t eat dinner with me. I get you’re busy, I really do, but I enjoy it, spending time. I’m… lonely without you? I know that sounds so silly, I’m sorry. Shit.” You cover your face, hating the pathetic words spilling from your lips. “You’re probably sick of all this time, even as a best friend.”

That’s not it.

God that’s not it.

It’s just when he’s next to you all he can think of is fucking you, or making you cum all over his mouth, his fingers. He can’t stand how good you smell, how good you feel, he melts over your pretty smiles and giggles, he can’t stand how deeply he is starting to feel. The three times you all have kissed for publicity it took everything in him not to drag you home.

How does he just shut it off, the ability to kiss you when he wants? And now you’re lonely, you’re hurting, not even able to look at him when he gently pulls down your hands by your wrists. “Look at me.” He murmurs softly.

You do then, and he sees it, tears swimming. “Sorry I’m too emotional.” You whisper then, embarrassed.

“No, I’m being an ass.”

You let out a little laugh. “No, Satoru just distant, and I didn’t know if I fucked something up, the day in your office?”

“No, no. Please, I swear it’s not that… I’ve been in my head.” He mutters, unable to express it truly.

“I get it, you have a lot going on. I want to be here for you.”

“You are.” He’s brushing your hair back softly, leaning down, resting his head against yours, it’s too intimate then, the words on the tip of your tongue, that you feel more than you should, but you try to swallow them. “You’re amazing, you made them all look so stupid.”

“No…”

“Yes. You surprised me, I never have seen you like that.”

“Sexy, you said hmm.” You tease, but he’s serious then, as your breaths mingle, and he’s leaning even closer, wreaking havoc on your every sense.

“God yes, you’re sexy like that.”

“Satoru… it’s too much.” You whisper, as his hand rests on your thigh, and he feels it, how hot you are, earning his eyes shutting, trying to not let it affect him and failing. “I haven’t… I’m really…”

“Been a while, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck you.” You don’t move his hand when he slips it up higher, in fact your thighs spread just a bit, his little moan making more wetness start to drool from your aching pussy.

“I take up all your time, you can’t date, why not let me take care of you?” He acts as if he can handle anyone ever touching you, the thought alone makes him feral, want to fucking claim you as his own, to devour you senseless. He tries to be teasing, casual, watching your breath catch, your pupils dilate.

“Wh-what!?” Your lips part, and his desperate blue gaze is so intense it’s hard to look at.

“Let me make you cum, sweetheart, hmm? It’s the least I can do, I’m taking up all of you, I am sure it’s been a bit.” You gulp nervously. “You’re not a…”

“No, no, not a virgin Toru, just I didn’t like it.” You admit softly.

“At all?” He whispers, frowning just a bit, before he feels your inner thigh with his thumb, finding you hot and sticky, making you gasp. “Who sucked that bad?”

“You don’t know him. But I didn’t like getting…”

“Fingered?”

“That, not at all, um the times it happened were uncomfortable. So don’t try, it won't work.” Satoru laughs then softly, shaking his head.

“I’ve never had that problem. And I would never hurt you.” His words are serious then, you gulp nervously.

“I know you wouldn’t. But it’s intimate, and it’s not for show.” Your hand clutches his blazer now, thick material in your palm when he finally touches you over your panties, making you cry out at the contact, his cock throbs in response.

“Let me just take care of you, make you feel s’good, hmm? Don’t think too much about it, just feel.” He presses kisses down the side of your neck, your free hand wraps the back of his neck, brushing over his undercut, the soft hair under your fingers like silk, when he presses his fingers over your clothed clit. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-yes.” You manage, his lips kiss and then suck at the base of your throat, when his finger slips under your panties, finding you bare, soaked, your cry is louder, when he finds your engorged little clit, feels you slippery against his long fingers.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He huffs, free hand slipping up the side of your breast while he rolls his finger in little circles, and your hips jerk, your head falling back. “She’s begging f’me to put one in.”

“You c-can try, but- ah!” Satoru sinks a long finger in you, pressing up, and you’re blinded when he finds your spot so effortlessly, leaning back to look down at your face, as it scrunches up in pleasure. “Ngh!”

“There it is, some loser couldn’t find it hmm? I’ve got you, don’t worry.” He’s pressing up again and again, the spongy spot in your gummy walls, gripping him so fucking tight. You hear it, the lewd sound of your squishing cunt, your eyes rolling back in your skull as he works you. “Let go, trust me.”

“It’s too much I… T-Toru…” You whisper his name, while moaning, your mouth open in this perfect O, it makes him leak precum, sticking to his boxers as your thighs spread for him, as you trust him, your eyes lidded. “More.”

“More?” He repeats, speechless for a moment as you’re leaning forward, your lips just a breath away.

“Please, it’s s’good Toru.” Your little plea destroys the last fighting brain cell he has, he’s slipping one more in you, making you pulse around the thick invasion, curling them up and sinking them inside you, to the knuckle, while you moan against his lips. “F-fuck… oh my god what…”

“That’s it, fuckin’ feel her, grippin’ me.” He’s fucking his fingers into you, wishing they were his cock, and you’re soaking his hand, your cunt drooling when he shoves them in deep, thumb pression on your clit, making you shatter. “There you go, sweetheart, that’s it, s’pretty like this.”

You’re cumming all over your best friend/fake husband’s talented fingers, nearly crying at how good the release feels, pulsing all around him, hands clinging to his jacket, hopelessly wrinkling the material, all while he watches you. Your mind goes blank, pleasure is the only thing you can focus on, as he eases his strokes, and you both are panting in the quiet car.

Satoru eases his fingers out, putting them to his lips and sucking now, moaning when he tastes you, and your mouth drops in shock. “T-Toru…”

“Fuck.” He’s kissing you then, your slick all over his lips as he presses your back against the seat, and your thighs shake, sensitive from cumming so hard, you can barely focus on anything but your throbbing pussy.

“Please.” You whisper again, as he yanks his cock out, right in the back of the car, and you reach down, stroking it, his eyes shut as he whimpers, Satoru Gojo whimpers, over you touching his pretty pink tip, swirling that precum.

“Wanna taste you first.” He huffs, kissing down your throat when the car comes to a halt, yanking at your dress, pressing hungry kisses on your breasts.

“What are we… Toru what’re we d-doing, fuck!” You’re whining out when he’s biting at your nipple over your bra, your hands yank on his hair, hips arching, feeling his length on your inner thigh.

“M’gonna-”

“Mr. Gojo, we’re here.” His driver infuriates him now, Satoru leans up, breaths heavy as he’s leaned over you, looking at your already fucked out eyes.

“We almost… we… y-you…” You are stuttering, suddenly so nervous, so overwhelmed. “Is this just you helping me out? Is it-”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Ijichi, I’ll fucking kill you.” He mutters angrily, quieting his driver quickly, as he adjusts himself and then you, and you’re sitting up, blushing as he fixes your panties, fingers covered still in your slick. He sucks them again further making your tummy flutter, tighten, your heart pounding out of your chest. “God you taste yummy, the fuck, how does someone taste this good.”

“You tasted me? Twice!?” He smirks now, easing you to sit, tilting up your chin now.

“Not fully.”

“Fully!? Is this what friends do?”

“Well I sure don’t want you doing this with anyone else.” He glares now, jaw locking, making you gasp.

“What now?”

“No one else can do that to you.” His lips gently kiss yours, you taste yourself on them again, but you shove at him now, glaring.

“What do you even mean, no one else? You think you have some freakish claim on me now?”

“I know you came so hard you soaked my fucking backseats, hmm?” He whispers, you roll your eyes now, eagerly getting out of the car.

“You’re insane, Satoru.”

“You clearly like it.” You scoff, body shaking, legs literally wobbly, you try to ignore them as you stride up to the front of Satoru’s fancy doors, and walk in quickly, as he follows you with long strides, calling your name.

“That was fingering as a friend!?”

“No… it was…” He wants to say it then, you’re literally his fucking wife, even if it’s pretend, he can’t think of anything he wants more than you, to be inside you.

“Almost fucked me as a friend? Satoru, I can't do that.”

“I know, I didn’t… I just…” You’re turning away, if you look into those blue eyes too long you won’t be able to breathe, to exist, every inch of your body dying for more. “You loved it.”

You scowl as he smirks. “You’re a conceited little shit, just like when we met! Swear to god.”

“You’re still shaking.” He says, eyes raking over you, you gasp.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“If you want to, say the word.” He murmurs, leaning against your doorway, and you roll your eyes.

“No way, I’m going to bed early. Good night.” You shut the door right in his face, sliding down it, head in your hands.

What the heck even was that.

Five weeks of being ‘fake married’ to your best friend, Satoru Gojo

Satoru and you were barely talking this entire week, you’re so furious with his cocky, conceited attitude, and the fact that he’s entirely right. Nothing felt that good, no one felt like just his fingers had, how he found you, how he looked at you. Now for the past week every night you’ve done the one thing you said you wouldn’t do.

Touch yourself to the memory.

You’re rolling your fingers on your clit, whining his name in a breathy whisper the morning of the charity auction, covering your mouth with your free hand as you realize that you’ve done it, that you’ve said his name, all while cumming all over your little fingers, which don’t even come close to his, lengthy and thick, the rough pads of his thumbs.

And you could fuck him, you know you could, but you also know what it will mean, there is no friends after that, kissing alone has made things impossible for you both. And Satoru is doing the most amazing things, you’re so proud of him already, and don’t ever want to lose him. But now he’s in your head, making you absolutely insane with want, with need, with desire.

Now you can’t even think of him without picturing his cheeks hollowing as he sucked your wetness off, picturing his head between your thighs, things you shouldn’t, and it’s like he knows. He smirks at you just so, lazy lidded eyes draping down your frame every morning, every night, making sure to constantly have a hand on you in public.

He was making you lose it, and he knew it.

Your stupid little fingers can’t do shit, in fact they frustrate you more, but it’d be a cold day in hell before you ask him for any help. In fact you realize the game he plays when he walks around in his boxers, when he does push ups in the middle of the living room with one arm, like he’s showing off, smirking when he catches you watching him, in your moments of weakness.

It would be so easy to fall into his bed, but to think of ruining your friendship terrified you, to think of the feelings you know would be unleashed like some fucking flood gate was too much. You never have been able to be casual, you’re not even interested in someone without feelings, and you’re slowly realizing that those feelings when you were younger never went away.

They’re just more intense now, living with him, with this unspoken tension in the air, every breath you take you can practically taste him, every time you watch his fingers slipping around the rim of his cup you remember them in you. As you see the clear bulge in his boxers you remember touching him, remember wanting to taste that precum on his tip.

The worst part is he looks so knowingly at you, so sure you’d probably beg for him, you’re sure many, many women do. But despite knowing Satoru to be a bit of a ladies man, you’ve not seen a single one here since you’ve lived here, not seen him go on a single date. You’re not sure if you could handle it, despite acting so very nonchalant about it.

But you have no claim over him, this was just convenience, every bit of the arrangement. Your new car, no more debt, helping Satoru do what he needed to, you all are a perfect team even with the added tension of your pussy constantly throbbing around said best friend. Surely it wasn’t worth ruining, complicating, just to feel that pleasure he brings.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you nervously step out of the room, into Gojo’s spacious foyer, where he’s turned around, a dark blue suit adorning his body like a glove. He hears your heels click on the marble floor below and turns, his lips parting as he studies you.

The red dress hugs every line and curve of your pretty body, the bold shade making your skin pop so pretty, it looks so smooth he aches to caress you, every bit of you. You are biting your lower lip nervously, looking up at him from across the room as you stand there, looking so beautiful his pulse races.

This week has been torture for Satoru, he wants to tell you then, that he feels so much more than he even knows how to convey, that it wasn’t just ‘getting a friend off’ it was such a joke, he can’t even understand how you believe that. He can’t get the sweetness of your pussy off his goddamn mind, he’d do just about anything to taste it again.

He’s even eyed your panties in the hamper. He's so pathetic and desperate for you, but he’s tried to keep some semblance of composure, to act unbothered, so scared to ruin your relationship. He knows how much you sacrificed just coming here, sure he’s helping you, but you uprooted everything, you acted perfect at every function, you stood up for him at every meeting.

You are the perfect wife.

Pretend wife.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra in his head, brushing off the moment in the back of the car as maybe you just needed to cum, maybe it was just that for you, but something about how your eyes met his, has him desperately pumping his cock, hearing your soft whimpers at night. He knows you’re touching yourself, he wishes he could see it, watch it, take over.

Instead he’s stuck endlessly jerking it to his best friend/fake wife, ignoring any girl that even texts him because they just aren’t you. They could care less he’s ‘married’ everyone just wants a piece of him, everyone but you. You just are there for him, with him, by his side, you’d have done this for nothing in return. You’re becoming everything to him so fast it’s terrifying.

The magnification of feelings he’s had for you over so many years is overwhelming, being near you, smelling your sweet scent, hearing you hum as you cook with your earbuds in, your nervous habits. How you twirl your hair, how you tilt your head, how you tremble just a bit when he holds you for the cameras, how you sigh sweetly as he kisses you for show.

You can’t fake that, he knows you’re affected too.

But he doesn’t know if it’s what he feels for you.

He’s stammering like a teenager at prom, but prom pales in comparison to seeing you now, how the diamonds glitter off your neck and delicate wrists, how he can picture fucking you with just that on. Your cheeks are decorated with that pretty color as you handle his wordless scrutiny, teeth releasing your lip when he comes closer, he brushes a thumb across the indentations left.

You gasp, eyes shooting up to his, as the electric current of his touch rocks through you. “You always bite it, stop. Gonna hurt it.” He says, voice husky, eyes hungry as he looms over you in the quiet, elegant room.

“Do I always?” You whisper, and he nods, brushing his thumb over it again, as if to soothe it.

“Mmhmm, gonna cut up such pretty lips.” His voice drops another octave as one of your hand grips his wrist, and you ache for him to kiss you, to press you against one of these cream colored walls and pound into you.

Stop that!?

You clear your throat, taking a breath and then plastering on a little smile. “You look handsome tonight, blue is your color.”

“Red is yours, clearly.” He brushes a bit of hair back off your bare shoulders, two fingers gently running down the strap, watching the network of goosebumps spread, your heart is racing at the contact. Your urge to yank him by his skinny black tie and slam his lips to yours tempts you to no end.

“Thank you for this dress, and the jewelry. Stop getting me more.” Your little glare just makes him grin.

“At the auction you can get whatever you want, so you know.”

“No way, it’ll all be overpriced.”

“It’s charity, baby. Hmm, should we practice kissing more?” He asks, and you smack his hand away, glaring as he chuckles.

“We’ve had lots of practice, let’s go.”

You all are arm in arm as the cameras flash so brightly later that night when you both step out of the car, so much so they hurt your head, but you hold onto Gojo’s arm, as he guides you through, grinning and answering every question effortlessly. “Why the shades at night, Mr. Gojo?”

“Your bright ass cameras hurt my pretty baby blues.” He teases with a pout, earning the laughter there.

“And what’s this talk of major changes in the Gojo corporation?” Another reporter asks, Satoru chuckles then.

“Ah, well these old geezers needed some revamping is all. Right, pookie?” He asks you, and you smile up at him, then at the cameras.

“Satoru knows what’s best for the company and his employees, his changes are going to only make everyone more profitable.” Satoru watches you answer their questions left and right, enamored more and more by you.

“Are you trying for a baby, Mrs. Gojo?” Someone asks then, and you heat up at the question, at the image that flashes in your head.

Gojo breeding you.

So vivid you feel like you’re there, him murmuring a ‘let me fill you, sweetheart, have you so full of my babies’ and pumping over you. You almost faint it’s so real, and you have no clue what has come over you. You don’t think like that!? You’ve never done shit like that… you…

“We’re enjoying each other a lot right now, but it’ll happen I’m sure, when we’re ready. We’re a little consumed with each other.” Satoru answers now, breaking through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you look up at him, lips parted, as he completely saves you, you’ve frozen on the spot. “Right sweetheart?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, shaking your head then. “We are very much in love, and enjoying our alone time, but we’d both love a baby.” You say, and you hate how real it is.

He hates how he can picture you now, full mating press, as he fucks one load of cum into your pussy, and then another, watching it all pool out. Fuck he’d watch your tummy get so full of him. The thoughts of getting you pregnant make him feral then, he can hardly stand there as he just stares at you, and you at him.

You don’t get your best friend/fake wife pregnant.

Do you?

The auction continues, fancy and expensive items for filthy rich people, Gojo detests it more than even you do, though you’d never know with how he plays the room. You see Mei and Naoya again, laughing about something in this creepy way that makes you shiver. When Gojo is mingling while you're having a seat, you see a pretty brunette girl talking to him closely.

Why does it make you feel so sick to see him, you don’t know. You’ve watched him date, and he’s watched you, but something about living with him, about this enormous glinting rock on your finger really messes with you. His grin glinting under glittering chandeliers of this enormous auction room, another woman coming up, surely he runs in their circles.

You try not to focus on that, it’s not as if you have given Gojo a hint that you want more, and do you? Do you want to cross that line? If something doesn’t work, it’s not a fight between friends, it’s the end of everything, and isn’t having Gojo with you somewhat better than not at all?

“You look like you hate this, huh doll?” You hear then, looking up to see a dark haired man, grinning down at you, he’s handsome in a rugged way, not pretty like Satoru, but something appealing. A scar on his lip as he chuckles, gesturing around you both. “Bunch of rich assholes, huh?”

“Shh!” You giggle though, looking around, nodding.

“Knew it.”

“So what’re you doing here?” You ask quietly, he grimaces, running a hand through inky locks.

“Got a fuckin job to do, what about you?” You gesture to Satoru then, who’s glaring right at you both.

“I’m married to Gojo.”

“Ah shit, I’m too late.” You blush a bit at the attention, Satoru has a girl who’s far too close, whispering in his ear, her hand on his shoulder, making you sick.

“Hmm.” Is all you manage, looking back up at the man. “What is your name?”

“Toji Zenin. Yeah, I know, the name… but fuck them.”

“You are different.” You murmur softly, tilting your head to the side, he brushes his fingers then across your thigh subtly, your jaw clenches a bit.

“If I was with you I sure wouldn’t be over there with snobby bitches.” He says, and you don’t like it then, the jealousy in your heart as Gojo walks up suddenly, clearing his throat.

“Zenin.” He mutters, and he grins up at Gojo.

“Talking to your wife, Gojo, keeping her company y’know? Shouldn’t leave such a pretty thing so lonely.”

“You’re. In. My. Seat.” Satoru mutters, teeth clenched together, and Toji laughs with ease, taking your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

“See ya around, doll.” He says, patting Gojo on the shoulder, and Satoru wants to rip his fucking arm off then, as he glares down at you, sitting in the seat, but you cross your arms, looking away.

“Did he touch you?” He demands quietly, you frown then.

“He was nice, I mean he-”

“Nice!? Looked like he wanted to eat you.”

“What do you care, looks like they were all over you. Oh look, they miss you, go say hi.” You say, as three girls giggle and point over at Satoru, his blue eyes narrow, leaning over you then, cupping your face with his hand.

“Think I wanted to be bombarded by flirty ass drunk women?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you care if I do?”

“No! What do you care about me then?” You demand, whispering amongst the loud crowd of auctioneers, as they start lining pieces up for sale.

“Because he… you…” Satoru trails off, mouth opening and closing. “You are my wife right now, you know.”

“Fake wife.” You correct, seeing a vein throb in his temple.

“It doesn’t matter, how does it look when-”

“That’s what you care about, appearances? Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your precious appearance any.” You whisper, as the crowd settles, and a brilliant sapphire necklace is now on display.

“You act like you don’t care at all, I saw you.”

“So what!?”

“So why don’t you just tell me how -”

“Ten thousand, do I hear…”

“Shh.” You scowl at him, as he scowls back at you. “Maybe you should go sit with your girlfriends.”

He laughs softly, without humor. “You’re jealous.”

“Nope, you’ve always been that way. What’s surprising is not having seen a girl at the house.”

“You think I want-”

“Twenty Thousand, going once, going…”

“Want someone more your speed? Sure, I know this is just convenience, I'm not stupid.” You say, he scowls even deeper, his hand suddenly on your thigh in the darkened room, making your heart pound as it squeezes bruisingly.

“I’ll not have anyone touch you.” His words make no sense, they don’t even compute in your brain then.

“What do you care, hmm? If I did. If I was discrete. Remember?” You ask, bitingly and full of shit, and you watch the hurt in his eyes, hating yourself for a moment before his eyes turn insane, dilating until they’re almost black.

“You wanna fuck him, huh?” He demands, you scoff, shaking your head.

“You’re stupid, Satoru.”

“Me stupid!?”

“If you think that I want anyone but…” You pause then, gulping as people are starting to look, hearing your hushed arguments then, and you stand angrily, stomping off until you hit the bathroom, splashing water on your neck, trying to pull yourself together.

You almost said it.

You’ll never want anyone but Satoru, your best friend, and you never have, fuck you probably never will, and it’s terrifying you. When the door shuts and he’s there, chest heaving, you turn away, tears pricking your eyes. “Just go away, fuck it’s the ladies room.”

“You’re mad at me for talking to women at an event?”

“You’re mad at me for talking to someone at an event?”

Yes, fuck yes he’s furious that man got near you.

That maybe you’d want someone else, more than him.

He steps closer, hands on your shoulders now. ““You gonna be mad when I fuck someone in my room, huh?”

You freeze, turning and glaring up at him then. “I hear you jerk off every night, so what’s the difference?”

Satoru looms even closer, you feel his breath hit your lips, making your tummy clench at the thoughts of him. “And I hear you moan as you play with your little clit, ya frustrated your tiny fingers don’t hit?”

“Oh fuck you!” You turn now, shoving at him, chest heaving, but he pulls you to him, pressing you against the bathroom counter, glittering and ridiculously opulent, hands shaking when they’re on your waist.

“You should just ask for help, sounds like you can’t cum.” Satoru whispers, earning a smack on the face that makes him smirk.

“Maybe you should ask me, how many times do you need to jerk off a night, huh Toru?” Satoru’s laughing then, insanity, his cheek decorated with red from your little hand print.

“At least I make myself cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m over this. I’ll take the opposite side of the house, won’t have to hear your moans.”

“Good, won’t hear your pathetic whimpers.”

“Good!”

“Good!” You both stand there, him bent over, barring you with his arms. “Admit it, you’re jealous.”

“Nope, just annoyed with you. Over you, Mr. never has on a fucking shirt!”

“Good, I’m done, Miss walks around in slutty panties!”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, until he’s slamming his lips on yours, and then you’re lifted like you’re nothing, when his tongue slips in your mouth, and you’re clinging to him eagerly, as he sits you on the sink, hungrily shoving up your red dress. “You’re gonna rip it, shit!”

“I’ll buy you twenty more, just shut up.” You go to retort when he’s kissing you again, deeper now, and you’re crying out right in a bathroom, knowing anyone could walk in, only serving to make your cunt dripping wet, when he finds it he moans, pulling back and staring at you. “Why are you so beautiful?”

You can’t speak then, you’re lost in him, in his blue eyes and his pink lips, in his big hands all over you, his whispering words crushing any resolve you try to have. You lose all reason then, as your head falls back as he kisses up your throat, and you’re gushing down his fingers, remembering their shape and feel as they tease your entrance.

“Please, Satoru…”

“Why are you so sweet now, huh? Where’s your attitude?” He murmurs, but you’re arching up, whining as he stares at you so hungry. “Should fuck that attitude out of you.”

“Please…” You whisper again, when Satoru bends down, his head between your thighs, and stares right at your glittering pussy.

“Oh my god, she’s s’fuckin pretty…” He murmurs then, licking a stripe up your slit that has you crying out into your hand, thighs shaking as he groans at finally being able to taste you. “S’yummy mmm…”

“Toru…what’re you-ah!” You’re covering your mouth again as he laps at your cunt, his nose bumping your sensitive clit, and you’re dripping down his face, hand finding purchase in his silken white hair, gripping it.

“Gonna lick this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as your sweet nectar pours down his mouth, his hands spreading your plump lips, fucking you with his tongue then, your head smacks the wall, nearly sobbing it feels so good. “No one’s licked it, have they, baby?” You shake your head. “Good, s’all mine, huh?”

“All… y-you… Toru what are- mnh!” He’s yanking you to him by your hips, devouring you now, unlike anything you’ve ever felt, having you close so fast it’s embarrassing, tongue dancing and delving between your folds, drinking you up loud and wanton in this bathroom.

“F-fuck….” He’s achingly hard now, cock throbbing, tip of his tongue circling your little clit as he spreads you wide, looking at your perfect pretty pussy.

“You’re just… looking at it…” You manage to whisper, and he’s chuckling now, leaning over you, sinking two fingers inside, making your eyes roll back, so sensitive you’re about to cum right then and there. “Imagining it dripping out cum, sweetheart, that’s all.”

Your brain short circuits. “With cum!?”

“Mmm.” He’s not using words anymore, not when he’s picking you up, planting your heeled feet back on the bathroom floor, turning you to face the mirror. He’s lifting that dress up higher and bending down, pressing against you, finally he’s lost it, so drunk off your pussy, he can’t take it anymore.

“Satoru, you’re insane, what are you…”His cock springs out, heavy and aching with need, as he bends you over, one hand on his cock, the other, wrapping your pretty little throat, as your eyes catch his in the mirror, glassy and dilated.

“Next time he or anyone talks to you, it’ll be with my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy.”

Final Part

Taglist: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @4acoffee @whoreapika @arabellasolstice

Rest in the reblog <3

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #divider by cafekitsune #satoru gojo x female reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x f!reader #jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x yn

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chiwhorei · 5 months ago

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𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘴 ₊˚⊹♡

Pairing: ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ, sʏʟᴜs, ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ, xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ, ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tags: shortform, drabble, daddy kink et al, nasty back-shots, men begging, nothing too crazy but all smut. MDNI I swear to GOD dfwm

Notes: The LaDS and their cocks, that’s all this is. I can’t stop thinking about them, I’m lost in orbit. I may never make it back. —Xoxo, Dollie

ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ has a thick cock you can barely fit your lips around and makes your jaw ache. It’s a feeling you’re seemingly addicted to, so he’s contented to let you suckle on the tip with tears in your eyes for as long as you need. Zayne is observant, acutely aware of when your eyes get glassy and your bottom lip trembles ever so slightly. He knows just what you need. He’s a not-so-secret freak with iron-clad composure so he’ll keep you down there for hours humping his leg and blowing bubbles on his tip. Your face and chin are shiny with spit and tears, pupils blown fat as saucers when two fingers lift your head to meet his even and positively adoring gaze. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, tapping twice before you suck it into your mouth obediently.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “Such a pretty girl. Daddy’s pretty cock whore, so desperate for anything I give you.”

sʏʟᴜs has a long, curved cock that curls right into your g-spot, veins pulsing prominently on either side that you can feel distinctly. And even though it hurts going in every time, once you’re stretched around it you physically can’t stop yourself from cumming on it repeatedly and milking him dry. He can’t help wrapping his long, lithe fingers around your throat, fingertips pressing in just enough to remind you what’ll happen if you stop your desperate bouncing. Your legs ache, your head is swimming, but you continue with a sloppy wet rhythm. Tears prick at your eyes for Sylus to thumb away, gentle for only a beat before something sinister curls around his lips. You yelp at the mean pinch to your clit, your final warning.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “We’ve barely just begun, sweetheart. I thought you were my big girl? That’s it, baby, cum around it again”

ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ has such a stupidly big cock —coke can thick and slaps his belly button— that he’s worried might kill you one of these days, especially with how fucking insistent you are that he gives it all to you at once. He takes hours working you open before he’ll even unzip his pants, shaking his head at the way you plead against your own best interests. You’re squirting against his chest and abdomen once he pulls your ass up and gives you what you say you want so bad. Your pussy stretches around his almost-impossible shaft and leaves a creamy ring around the base. Caleb swears he feels a vein in his temple burst when you’re reaching back to slow the abuse of his hips. You complain that he babies you, then you cry that it’s too much? With both of your wrists in one hand and your jaw in the other, he’ll teach you a lesson in follow through.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “Mmf- Messy-plap-Fucking-plap-Brat. Can’t make up your mind, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve always known what’s best for you.”

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ has a disastrously sensitive cock. Even through his boxers, his sweats and your leggings, he can feel how warm your little slit is. Each haughty rut of your crotch against his is making the air around him feel thicker and harder to swallow. A wet patch is forming on the tent in his lap, precum and the leaking of your pussy. Xavier feels dizzy, his twitching dick so painfully hard that your movements border on torture. He needs some kind of relief, but you just look so perfect grinding down on him like this. He can’t stop you now, when you’re whispering how close you are into the shell of his ear. Your back arches sharply, cunt pulsing against his shaft until he’s shooting into his pants- but he doesn’t mind. He’ll just flip you over and lick another orgasm out of your poor pussy until you’re screaming yourself hoarse and he’s ready to go again.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “God, baby, you made such a mess of me. No, no, no— we’re not stopping until I return the favor.”

ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ has the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It’s perfect in every way, like it was made just for you. Long and just a bit thicker at the base, with a deep pink tip that always blushes under your awestruck stare. Your favorite place to kiss and nuzzle is the twin freckles on the underside of his shaft. You love curling up in between Rafayel’s legs on the floor while he’s sat spread on the couch. You kiss every inch of soft, delicate skin- covering his balls with your nipping and sucking first, then up his length and across his perfectly trimmed pubes. Rafayel, never one to deny you— even at the cost of his own sanity— might just pass out from the lack of blood in his brain. The only thing you love more than slathering spit and sticky lipgloss all over him, is the way he moans for more. So fucking pretty, so perfect.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “Ah- ah- FUCK, you’re going to be the death of me, I need you so- ah- I need you so bad.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁

#lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads rafayel #lads caleb #lads zayne #lads xavier #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader

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allhailbuckybarnes · 25 days ago

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the love confession

summary: bob can’t stand it. you’re just too fucking pretty. you distract him, you make every horrible, ugly thought dissipate. he craves it. he knows you, and you know him. it feels right, and his feelings are so strong he doesn’t know what to do anymore. he has no idea that you feel the same. that you ache for his comfort, for his feelings to reflect your own.

but a week of strained normalcy, a build up of emotional tension, and a failed mission lead to more than innocent, friendly thoughts. bob’s limits are reached on waiting for the right damn moment.

he has to tell you. you want to tell him. let’s watch each of you try ;)

warnings: fluff/smut, longing, pining, some use of y/n, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, dirty thoughts, tension, body worship, bob is down bad, bob is a MAN, you are just as down bad, yelena is number one supporter, idiots in love, confusion, jealousy, a pinch of angst, just playing: so so much angst, possessive bob, oral sex (m&f receiving), canon-typical violence, reader gets hurt badly (more on that later), bob is not okay, fear, love, please just kiss alr you two

monday (chapter one)

Bob wakes up early this morning. Rolling over to take a drink of water. His first thoughts, as always, are about you. Your hair in the morning, what you were doing, if you had already fixed your coffee. He throws on sweats and a t-shirt, stumbling around so he can see you sooner. A sticky-note on his door read:

“BOB- do not forget, therapy on Mondays and Thursdays at 4:30 pm!! DONT MISS IT AGAIN! - ur fave :)”

He smiles dumbly and walks out, shutting the door behind him. As he enters the common area near the kitchen, he sees you wondering around the cabinets. He smiles, there you are. You looked as if you were about to burn the kitchen to the ground.

“What’s up?” He asks, settling behind you and sitting on the counter.

You groan, slapping your hands to your forehead and running them down your face. “Bobby, I swear to god if Walker eats my cereal again, I’ll cut his dick off and feed it to Yelena’s rat thing,” you grumble.

He laughs out loud, “Oh cmon now, you can’t do that to Yelena’s guinea pig. Besides, I have a secret stash, just for you.” You flip around, gripping his shoulders in a very serious stance, eyeing him. “Bobby. You. Are my hero.” His smile falters slightly at the closeness of your faces. What feels like a minute passes as he stares at your lips. He can just barely feel your breath on his chin. You’re too pretty.

You remove your hands, “well? Lead the way!” He grins again, hopping off the counter and showing you the faulty crack between the fridge and microwave, “tada!" He waves little enthusiastic jazz hands at you, handing you the box. You smile, a big, beautiful smile, and slap his shoulder.

“I’ll have to keep you around I suppose Robert Reynolds.” His name rolls off your lips like sin. He rolls his eyes to mask the tightness in his chest, “sure Y/n, sure.” You mock a pouty face and he laughs.

You giggle and stroll over to the bowls, a pep in your step at the promise of your favorite cereal. Bob had thought of you again, it made your ears and cheeks burn red.

He was always extra thoughtful of you, whether that meant your snacks were always stocked, your dishes were the first he worried about cleaning, or the way your stories always seemed the most interesting to him. You always thought it was just him being mindful of your sensitive feelings.

Little did you know, he was trying to show you everything he felt for you in every glance, action, and gesture. To everyone around you it was obvious. The rest of the team had pools on who would finally have the balls to tell the other first. Neither of you did, it seemed.

Eating your cereal together, you don’t have to say much. Each other’s presence is enough. Bob mindlessly made your coffee just the way you liked it as you prepared the cereal bowls. It was clockwork, it was normal. Some might even say it was domestic.

You relay your plans for the day to Bob, “I need to workout, seriously. Even though I’ve got the same serum you do mr. god, I swear my bones are aching. Also, I was thinking about going to the bookstore, do you want to tag along to either place? I was thinking it’d just be us, almost like a da-…” you cut yourself off, mortified.

You often didn't think as you rambled, always just speaking your mind. It's not like you two hadn't hung out before... but it had always seemed coincidental, the right place at the right time. You had never asked him with the intention you had just now. Or almost asked...

Bob sputtered: did you want to go on a date with him? No, that’s not possible. You just saw him as a friend. His cheeks turned pink. His body felt on fire.

“Wow okay, I’m not offended at all,” you quickly reply at his reaction, taking your bowl to clean it. You frown, goddamn it. I pushed too much. He doesn’t see me like that. Stupid! Your heart pounded in your chest.

“No, wait what? Y/n, of course I want to go with you.” He chases after you, grabbing your wrist, taking the bowl from your hands slowly, and rinsing it. Your lip pulls to the side, “it’s okay if not. I just thought it would be something we would both enjoy. I had a book recommendation lined up and everything, but I didn’t even ask what your plans were, I'm sorry...” Bob put a hand on your shoulder, “hey, you’re starting to sound like me, quit it,” he smiled. “I always want to hang out with you Y/n.”

Your halfway serious grin returned and you punched him in the shoulder. “Then don’t almost spit up next time! You had me worried I overstepped a boundary in our heart warming friendship.”

Not that word again. Both of you cringed in your mind at the thought of just being friends. Neither of you wanted to just be friends. Bob smiled anyway, "You could never overstep. You know that, right?"

Your smile lessened at his tone, and you touched his shoulder again, grazing it with your hand, a serious look on your face. "I know."

It was a silent plea for physical reassurance. You often thought about curling up to Bob, taking your worries and your fears, and letting him take over. He always talked to you first about nightmares, he always held you then, in the quiet of the night. It was always innocent. That was an easy conversation for you to have together, having gone through the same trials. He just got you. You pulled away.

It meant everything to Bob that you touched him.

You were sweaty and tired, training had worn you out. The sparring with John took way too long, so you ran back to your room to shower and change quickly. Stepping in, the hot water washed away all the physical exhaustion, but the mental side never truly went away.

You just simply had too much on your mind. Everything with Bob, constant life-threatening missions, the pressure of the press, your serum trauma. It was always so much to carry.

It would help if you had someone to help you carry it, but the one person you want is your best friend.

You couldn't mess that up, you wouldn't lose Bob. Just the thought of scaring him away by your feelings kept you from telling him the truth.

That you wanted him. That you pictured it, everything with him. From date nights, to lingering touches, to a home, all the way to wrinkles.

You step out, drying yourself off. Maybe one day, when things calm down. When Val isn’t breathing down your neck constantly. When you have more control over your emotions, over your new powers. You would tell him.

Putting on a sweatshirt and shorts, you throw your hair into an easy style, curl your lashes, put a little extra effort into your makeup and jewelry for the ‘date,’ and head down to meet Bobby by the cars.

You take the elevator, staring and dreaming of how to make it known that you like Bob, knowing that you wouldn’t dare. But just his company was enough for know.

Bob is leaning against a Cadillac, waiting for you when you walked up. He looked up from his phone, “Oh hey! Um... Wow, are we only going to the bookstore?” He swallows.

You look down at your outfit, “yeah? I’m only wearing sweats.”

Bob chuckles and runs a nervous hand through his hair, “well, it’s just. You look good—um. You always look good.”

You smile on instinct, blushing hard. “Thank you.” He leans forward enough to brush a stray piece of hair away. Every touch felt electric, wanting, right. You leaned into his touch. A slam of the door behind you both startled you, Bob dropping his hand.

Alexei greeted each of you with a hug, running up and yelling, “EYY! My favorite Avengerz.”

You each pat his back awkwardly and greet him. He grins, “finally going on a date? I told you Bobby, she’s a good one.”

Bobby looked stunned and blushed firmly, staring at his feet. You quickly cover, patting Alexei's shoulder and pulling Bob towards the car, “no, no Alexei, we’re just going out. Thanks for the compliment though.” You would never assume anything. You murmur, "I'm sorry" to Bob as you each get in. He assures you it's okay. You know better.

With a reaction like that from Bob, you felt grounded. Back down to Earth. He didn’t want you like that, he cared about you, but it wasn’t anything more than family- sister and brother. Even thought you dreamed of more, something more like teammates against the world and lovers... you still had him. Robert. That was all that mattered.

Besides, it was impractical.

You understood, it was a dangerous risk to fall.

Each of you stayed silent on the drive to the bookstore. Bob had let Alexei's words get to his head and it was obvious. You had noticed, and spent the entire drive trying to find the right words to comfort him.

When you parked, Bobby went straight for his seatbelt, but you stopped him. "Hey, I know what he said bothered you. But I appreciate you coming anyways."

His eyes squinted and he looked frustrated, "it's just... that's not how I wanted things to go. Not how they should go," he painfully admitted. Your heart winced at his words, of course that isn't how he wanted it, he doesn't want that. Why can't I just accept that.

"Let's just go inside, yeah?" You ask, trying to hide the storm brewing inside your head. He looked at you. For a beat, words you wish each other would say, hung in the space between you. The only thing holding you back was yourselves.

The bookstore was quiet, slow, and steady. Each aisle was littered with old, new, torn, and worn books. You had already found a poetry book on your tbr list and immediately added it to the stack you each had compiled. You would swipe Val's card on your heart's desires any day of the week. She deserved it.

The tattered books you held reminded you of each person on the team.

A pristine covered novel, with poorly hidden rips and markings inside - Walker

A short, honest, and used memoir with a broken spine - Ava

A thick, very beaten book, which you couldn't tell if it'd been well loved or torn apart on purpose - Bucky

A gleaming fiction of a story of glory which ended in disappointment - Alexei

A series book, contained to its beaten holder with its fellow victims who had all been through beatings together, torn apart - Yelena

A hopeful manuscript with dried tears on it's pages, not yet finished - Robert

And you, a soft cover, written over in ink and tears, full of empty meaning, alone.

You needed a drink.

After your selections, you checked out, the cashier seemingly satisfied with the absolute library you were taking home, gave you a free tote to haul them in. You and Bob always shared books, so there was no reason to split them into piles. You would read his margin notes, and add yours nearby.

Bobby seemed off on the ride home. He obviously had something on his mind. You silently willed for the words Alexei had said to roll off his shoulders. The more it bothered him, the more worried you became about your feelings.

They could become a real problem if you didn't shake them. If you couldn't let go of this, then it would effect your work, your safety, his safety. It could not get to that point.

It was time to end your crush on Robert Reynolds.

God you have no idea what you'e doing.

Dinner was good. Yelena made something with pork and stew, her own recipe. It was delicious, but dinner had been ruined for you when Bob turned in extra early, blaming it on his desire to read a new book. Your unhappy attitude had been noticed fairly quickly. But nobody dared say anything.

You retreated to sulk on your own soon after dinner. Passing Bob's door and opening your own, you heard the shower on. You two had to share a bathroom, which connected your suites. Sometimes, it was torture when you'd accidentally almost see him naked.

Lord had the serum been kind to him. His body looked amazing, he was the rugged, but subtle kind of ripped. The freckles across his chest made you want to tear him apart with your lips. His veins, leading down to his long fingers, made you want to be fucked stupid with his hands choking you. It was embarrassing, but it was true.

You laid in bed with a book in your hands, carelessly reading the same lines over and over again, willing your head to focus. But you couldn't, you needed to talk to Bob.

After abandoning the book, you stood, trying to convince yourself to be brave. To face what you felt.

You knock on the door on his side of the bathroom, and after he mumbles, "One sec!" You hear a tumble and a small curse. He finally opens the door a crack after a minute. "Yeah?" He croaks, his hair a mess. He looks sweaty, has he been working out or something?

"I'm sorry if I interrupted, we can talk tomorrow," you quickly whispered, and turn to go. He catches your wrist, "no wait."

His hand was sweaty, almost moist. You looked down at the contact. Bob's adam's apple shifted up and down as he swallowed the tension. "I, I should apologize," he speaks lowly.

"I was so quiet, I had to have made your head spin. I was just thinking about what Alexei said, and I-" You interrupt bringing your hand to his cheek, "I get it, I knew that's what it was."

Bobby's brows furrowed, and his mouth opened to speak, but he hesitated. Why were you avoiding his opinion so much? Had he upset you? Why were you touching his cheek and not fucking kissing him with those lips. He wanted you. You dropped your hand, so he pulled you in for a hug. God this is too friendly, you both thought.

"Listen, if I hurt you by my reaction it was not meant. You know that I care... about you." He whispered, his lips barely grazing your hair. When had you changed the scent of your shampoo? It was incredible. Fuuuuuck.

You didn't dare meet his eyes, keeping your face buried in your friend's neck. But a soft hand guided your chin, tilting you up to meet his eyes. "You get some sleep, and we'll figure it all out tomorrow, mkay?" He strains. Your touch was too much after his previous activites. His cock was gonna burst. You nod, slowly, and your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second.

That split second made Bob so hard it hurt. He brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear, and you silently retreated to your room, stunned and wet as hell.

Each of you laid in bed, restless, thinking the same thoughts.

What the fuck.

I want her

I'd fuck him right now

Maybe tomorrow. But for now, you each needed sleep.

Bobby dreamt of your new shampoo and you mouth around his cock. You dreamt of his hands around your throat again, and a wrap-around porch with his hand in yours, reading books.

For now, you were each content.

tuesday (chapter two)

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