#I'm back on an upwards swing about feeling like i can do this and it's a good career path for me

[thorinoakenbutt]

I lucked out so hard getting "reading" as the first lesson topic I have to prepare for in my teaching course. My tutor was smiling a lot as we were going over my guided lesson planning session so I think she's also quite pleased

[pearlymel]

Curiosity— Imbibitor Lunae

Synopsis: you're curious about his new form, and you can't keep your hands to yourself.

Wc: around 1.5k

Warning(s): nsfw but not really (?), grinding, making out, dan heng ruining his pants yeah... :P also gender neutral reader!!

Ugly, a monster, a sinner.

Those were the words that circled around Dan Heng's mind as he stared at his reflection on the mirror. His expression blank, and he almost cringes at how his new features clung onto him, a reminder of someone he never was, a reminder to other people who might recognise as someone who isn't him.

He stares at himself like the mirror is about to shatter right infront of him. Ever since he came back in his new form, you were in shock. He even thought you might hate him now, thus why he was hiding and locking himself for now from the others. Maybe you're better off without—

"Dan Heng!" You barge into his room, your tone almost urgent. But you both just stare at eachother, him being in utter shock like he was just caught doing something, and you.. just coming in without even knocking.

Manners.

"You—"

"Just let me," you step back to close the door again, and he tilts his head in confusion before he hears your knuckles knock on the door twice.

"it's me, may i come in?" You ask, your tone almost eager now and he can see how the doorknob was rotating ever so slightly, making his lips twitch upwards.

"you may." And then you immediately open the door, swinging it wide then closing it behind you when you enter.

"So—"

"I'm—"

You both speak at the same time, making you suppress a laugh. "You first," he nods, and you clear your throat.

You step closer to him, which makes him already on alert, but it makes you confused. Have you dont something he did not like?

"i just..." You look around, your hand reaching to rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. "... Missed you."

The confession makes the tips of his ear flush with the faintest colour of red, he sighs in relief before opening his arms for you. You take it as an invitation, almost jumping in his arms which sends him to stumble back a bit.

"My apologies," he whispered, resting his cheek on top of your head. "Were you trying to hide away?" You ask with that suspicious tone that makes him laugh quietly.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like my new... Self." His admission made you squint your eyes, lifting your head up to look at him. "New self? You're still Dan Heng." You shrug, taking everything as if it was a normal thing which left him dumbfounded.

"you know what I'm talking about."

"you mean your new little features?" You quirk an eyebrow, breaking the embrace to place your hands on your hips.

"Well about them, it's just..." The moment you eye him from head to toe, is the moment he thinks he lost it all.

That's it, he thinks. This is the part where you will find him different and unpleasant to the eye, where you will leave him like those drama's March watches on—

"I'm really curious to touch them."

His shoulders slump at your words, your simple request was making him contemplate everything again.

"what?" You ask when you see how dejected he looks, "No, it's nothing." He straightens his back again, his eyes unfocused when he tries talking to you again.

"so... You're just curious to touch my new features?" He asks, followed by a blink of his eyes. "Yes. Specifically your horns." You answer back with the brightest smile while your hands are clasped to your back.

"My horns..." He hums, looking up at his head, his fingers inching to feel them. When he looks back at you, you step closer again to him, ready to when he gives you the permission.

And just when you were raising your hands, a "no." Slips from his lips. His back turned to you and already walking away.

You feel like an arrow was just shot right through your heart at the rejection.

"Why nooot?" You pout, following right after him, your gaze shifting to the tail on his back that's swinging back and forth. It's all so... Enchanting on him.

"Just.. no," he mumbled in a low, embarrassed tone. He sits down on the red chair, keeping his back turned at you but you were quick to turn the chair around.

"i require an explanation, my dear dragon." You try to be firm when you lean closer, resting your hands on his sides right on the arms of the chair.

But he really can't take you seriously, so he just looks at you flatly. "They're sensitive." He simply answers with his arms crossed and eyes closed.

"that's it?" You ask with a sigh.

His eyes widen when he sees how close your face is to him now when he opens his eyes again, he can almost feel a nervous droplet of sweat dropping down his nape.

"..." He remains silent for a minute while you keep up that sad expression you always put up.

When he sighs, you look back at him with a hopeful gaze, "fine, you can touch my horns. But be gentle, okay?"

It's like the gods have responded to your wishes when he graces you with the opportunity to touch his new features that you've been itching to feel for some time now.

"I'll sit here," you point at his lap, but you don't wait for his answer before you're already slotted comfortably on his lap.

"You're shameless, aren't you?"

"Only for you." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking both of your hands, wrapping them gently around his horns to feel it.

So smooth, you note. yet cold to the touch. Your thumb brushing over the smooth base of it curiously which makes Dan Heng's breath hitch, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as your palms gently caressed the smooth, pebbled texture. He swallowed, trying to maintain his composure even as his skin tingled.

"Careful." he murmured, his voice a bit unsteady. "I am careful," A soft huff escaped his lips, his hands finding their place on your waist.

He looked up at you, silently hoping you would exercise some restraint as you continued your exploration.

"They feel really smooth, i like it." You giggle, your palms now firmly wrapping around them yet still careful not to hurt him. You try moving your hands from the base of his horns to the tip, almost like stroking them gently.

The first stroke almost felt nothing to him but shivers running down his spine that he quickly surpassed. But by the second and third stroke, he involuntary let out a soft moan with his fingers gripping your waist.

You both freeze. You from the shock of the noise he just made, and him from the embarrassment that he couldn't even control.

"Dan Heng—"

"okay that's enough." He quickly cuts you off, trying to carry you out of his lap but you stay still.

"don't be shyyyy." You coo teasingly at him, your hands now cupping his face together. "Please don't tease me." He tried muttering when you press his face together. "I won't. I promise, can i? Pretty please?" He knows what you're asking for, to touch him again, to tease him again. How did he even get here in the first place?

But Dan Heng's thoughts muddled as you captured his lips in a deep, messy kiss, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp. The combined stimulation of your touch on his horns and the feeling of your tongue against his sent shivers down his spine, his hands clenching on your waist even harder that he's afraid he might bruise your precious skin.

He groaned into the kiss, his chest heaving with the intensity of the sensations. He pulled you closer, his body automatically seeking more contact.

"Needy," you continue to tease him, his poor face and ears already so flushed, already gasping like he's out of air. And the hand that was sneaking to his tail only worsened the situation on his part.

His lips parted as he felt your fingers grip his tail, the firm appendage writhing gently in your grasp. The sensation of your touch sent a shudder down his spine, and he had to suppress a gasp of pleasure.

The texture of his tail was smooth, yet firmer than you had expected, the scales rippling under your touch. You're surprised when his tail wraps around your waist, his head falling back, baring his throat while he continued panting softly.

He seemed even more desperate than you were, his fingers clawing at your thighs as if asking for more.

"Deng Heng, sweetheart," the petname plus the feeling of your lips on his throat almost makes his eyes roll back.

"no, don't—" A low growl rumbled in his throat as you began grinding against him, the friction sparking a deeper wave of heat and desire. The moan that escaped your lips only heightened his own hunger, his hips automatically pushing up to meet yours.

He's panting even faster now, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another messy kiss, your hands continuing to stimulate his horns by giving them long languid strokes, your hips meeting at a set and desperate pace, his tail tightening even more around your waist which elicits a whimper out of your throat.

The noise that leaves his lips against yours makes your face heat up, both of you slowing down, your half-lidded eyes clearing up to look down at his lap where you find an obvious wet spot.

"Did you just—"

"not a word." He mutters in complete embarrassment this time, hiding his face against your chest and you only chuckle while trying to comfort him.

[shotmrmiller]

smut because somehow i always end up there.

yknow something that pushy ass cbf!johnny would do?

tell you that he'd get more benefits and/or pay if he had a spouse.

"Because you're in absolute poverty, Johnny."

He clicks his tongue. "Be serious, hen."

You are being serious. Johnny's not hurting for cash. His parents are still alive, so he has no need to buy a place of his own, and even then, he just swings by his family's home before coming back to stay with you until leave's over. Honestly, you should be charging him rent.

"Johnny. Unless you're planning on buying another ostentatious vehicle with tires too big for this tiny town, I'm not seeing what you're seeing."

He digs his thumb into the arch of your foot that's draped over his lap. "But think o' the possibilities! If say, you married me, ye wouldn't need to work anymore. Jus' worked on gettin' the job of yer dreams! An' besides, ah'd never realistically settle down anyway; too busy savin' the world an' all."

The extra income must be drastic if he's this insistent. "Why not marry the big brit with the skull for a face? You talk about him enough to sound like you've got a hard on for him."

He avoids your gaze when he informs you that Ghost is already married.

"And what about me? What if I find a boyfriend or something?" you playfully teased. Johnny's bright blue eyes turned to ice.

"Is there someone?" A muscle worked in his jaw.

Dread crawled up your spine. Abort. Abort. "Of course not." The tension melted from his face— gaze gentling and lips softening.

Christ, can he be intense sometimes.

You clear your throat. "Say I do marry you. What do you get out of this as my benefactor? Math isn't mathing, Johnny."

His lips curl upwards in amusement. "Nothin' between us would change. Jus' get a nice, shiny band on my hand tha' keeps unwanted advances off of me, and I wouldn't have to live on base anymore. Tired of eatin' tha' slop at dfac."

Johnny's long fingers curl around your ankle, thumb drawing gentle circles on the bone. "C'mon, hen. Think about your career! Marry me and ye won't even have t'change yer last name, swear."

Once again, fooled by the pretty face and dazzling smile.

You were a MacTavish by the end of the month, and he'd ended up in your bed that same night. Pushed your face into the soft mattress as he bullied his cock into you, telling you to feel how he splits his little wife's pussy open.

Mottled the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone with purple love bites when he hooked your knees over his shoulders, forcing you to take all of him in that devastating angle.

Made you look at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, one hand gripping your neck, and the other on your swollen cunt, rubbing tight circles on your slippery clit. "Look at how beautiful y'are. How good yer takin' me." He tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you. "This cunt was made f'me, wasn't it, wife?" he rumbles.

If he said anything else, it was promptly drowned out by a buzzing in your ears as your world went white. Warmth trickled down your legs as pleasure burst through you, spasm after gut-twisting spasm. Johnny blessedly slows down, working you through it tenderly, until you hiss in discomfort from oversensitivity.

"The way ye look in yer pleasure is somethin' i'll see behind my eyelids forever, bonnie."

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw. "Johnny, please—" you cut off, a moan tumbling out of your lips when he presses himself flush against your arse.

"Dinnae worry, ah'm not done with ye jus' yet." There's a hand in between your shoulder blades, pushing down gently. "Bend over, hands behind yer back, Mrs. MacTavish."

ghost is in fact, not married.

and the pay raise is mediocre.

[buckgasms]

I have filthy idea for trailer park bucky!

You talk to bucky about how one of the naybors you don't like very much is obnoxiously loud when she has her gentlemen friend over and you think anyone whose that loud in bed must be faking it! Bucky intends to prove you wrong by making you scream louder then the other woman

I'm really feeling blessed this evening with nonnies sending me their excellent thoughts 💭

And this is indeed an excellent thought 🩷

So you stumbled out of your trailer feeling very grumpy, your mood not improving when you hear Bucky chuckling at you as he lights a cigarette.

"Bad night sweetheart?"

You growl and take your seat outside with your breakfast and a strong coffee.

"Of course! It's her, again. Every time she has a visitor over she's screaming all night long. It's so over the top, no one screams like that during sex. It's ridiculous..."

You take a long sip of coffee as Bucky puff out a smooth trail of smoke, eyes glittering with mirth. Your phone starts buzzing and you wave at him as you head back in to take a call, getting your day started.

🌝

You are thinking of heading to bed when there is a tap at your door. You groan inwardly, feeling your body ache from tiredness, hoping whoever it is, doesn't stop for long.

You swing the door open and see Bucky standing there, looking divine as ever. White vest sitting low on his chest, jeans tight as always and a soft smile on his face and two beers in his hand.

"Oh, hi Bucky" you say, a genuine smile gracing your face as you step back. You might be tired but when he's looking that good, you think one beer won't hurt.

🌝

As the beer works it's magic you rest your foot on Bucky's lap and nudges his thigh. "So what are you doing here on this fine evening Mr. Barnes?"

He tilts towards you, gripping your leg and lets his hand glide upwards.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, you know about screaming in bed?"

You giggled at the earnest look on his face, sighing a little as his thumb massages your thigh ever so nicely.

"Well it is insane, she's just showing off at this point...no one is that good..."

He grins wickedly at you.

"I bet I could make you scream sugar... Wanna give her a taste of her own medicine?"

You giggle behind your hand, wondering if he's really serious. But the devious look on his face is going absolutely nowhere.

"Really? You think you can make me scream like that pornstar next door?"

He nods, hands gripping your waist as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips which you eagerly return.

He stands up and walks over to the window, pushing it open, checking that her window is open too.

"Come over here sugar... Wanna make sure everyone can hear you. Now be a good girl and take off that pretty dress."

You shimmy out of your dress and he sucks in a breath. He beckons you closer and you edge forward, pressing yourself into his chest as his hands grip your waist and squeeze at your soft skin.

"So beautiful sugar... Gonna make you feel so fuckin good..."

He presses kisses on your cheeks, down your neck and along your shoulder. Goosebumps break out all over your skin in the wake of his lips.

You moan and rake your fingers across his chest, whispering little pleas for him to give you more, always needing a little more.

He moves you to sit on the little table by the window. You shiver as he removes your bra, the cooler evening air dancing over your skin. You whine a little but he just chuckles.

"Need you to be a little louder than that... Here lemme help ya..."

He pushes you to lay back, your head right by the window as be leans down and sucks on your pebbled nipple, lavishing attention on you. You shudder and gasp as he nips gently and sucks hard at the sensitive skin.

You back arches and fingers thread through his hair and a long moan slips through your lips.

"Hmm not bad, that's a little louder but I know you can do better for me..."

His lips drift down and you feel him pull your panties down as he goes. More kisses are pressed to your heat and finally his tongue delves into your folds, torturing your clit with gentle licks and sucks.

A finger joins quickly after. He curls it in slow, firms strokes that have you emitting louder cries, a stream of 'ohs' filling the air. His mouth works faster and your feet come to perch on the table, so you can thrust your pussy into his mouth.

His chuckle sends a wave of pleasure through you and you whine when he pulls away, his finger still going strong.

"So greedy sugar. But you taste so sweet, I guess I don't mind." His thumb circles your clit and rubs hard without warning.

"I want you to tell your noisy neighbour who this pretty cunt belongs to. Say it nice and loud and then I'll letcha come."

He stands, pressing a hand to your stomach and adding more fingers and pumping hard and fast.

"Come on sugar, nice and loud...."

You can't really help the scream that leaves your lips and he drags you to your peak. You scream out his name, how you belong to him, over and over until your orgasm subsides and you lie panting on the table, his hands soothing your shivering body.

When you finally stop panting his hands pull you to sitting and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"That was great, good job sugar...."

You think he's done but he pulls his cock free and rubs it along your folds.

"Bucky...it's too sensitive I can't" you moan as he presses in his fat, leaking tip. He tuts and grips your chin, forcing you to look into his devious eyes.

"We ain't done sugar" is all he says before he thrusts, gripping your thigh to hold you open for him. You can only hold on to his big shoulders as he pounds into you, the sensitivity almost took much.

"Buckyyy, it's so big..." You wail, you don't even realise how loud you are, but it spurs him on. He grips your hair and forces you to watch as he spears into you relentlessly.

"Such a messy girl ain't ya, making a messame?" Lookathat sloppy cunt, love it sugar, taking me so well."

You cry out and rub at your clit, spreading your lips to display yourself more to him.

"Jesus sugar, that's a good girl. You gonna scream for me? Or am I gonna have to make ya?"

Words fail you but you can emit a long loud moan as your walls squeeze him tight. He pushes you back down again and his hips snap just that much harder and faster. His growls and grunts are lost under the sound of your cries of pleasure.

He rubs hard at your raw pussy and you slam into your orgasm, a scream dragged from the bottom of your lungs as you grip the table to keep you grounded.

You feel him pulse within you, before leaning down to press kisses to your sweaty cheeks and forehead. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers drifting down the muscles of his back.

You are about to say something when you hear a very loud, pointed cough. You both look through the open window and see your neighbour glaring at you both before she slams her window shut.

"Whoops"

Yes I was thinking about this vest....

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

[cloudzoro]

robin with 28 or 22?

hi!!! Robin is my wife and also my favourite character ever so I love writing for her ♡ (28 - lingerie)

cw: scissoring, dom-ish fem!reader

Lingerie | Nico Robin x Reader

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You're sitting in bed, reading a book, when the door swings open. Robin, your girlfriend, is standing in the doorway, wrapped in a robe. You immediately put your book on the bedside table, ready to give her all your attention.

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” she says as she slowly unties the robe and drops it from her shoulders to reveal a beautiful lace lingerie set. The floral patterning of the lace looks like ornate detail across her gorgeous skin, and you're momentarily speechless. She approaches you, climbing onto the bed and straddling your lap.

“You look beautiful,” you say, pulling her into a kiss. Robin's affection has always been gentle; that goes for her kisses, too. They're sweet and comforting. Your hands rub at the soft skin of her hips, content to sit there and get your fill of kisses until she's ready to go further. Robin has always needed to go slowly in the bedroom, and you've never complained or even felt the need to. A slower pace gives you more time to admire her.

You wrap your arms around her and adjust so that she's on her back on the mattress with you hovering over her. You stare down at her body in the lingerie she had worn just for you, hoping all the love and lust you feel is accurately portrayed in your gaze. You're careful when you lean down, running your tongue up the column of her neck. You then begin to trail your lips down to her chest, kissing along the lace edge of the bra cup.

“I don't think you could even begin to understand how fucking hot you are”, you say as Robin's face flushes red, not yet used to the compliments that come with being in a relationship with you. Your words earn you a moan of your name.

You continue downward, licking, sucking and kissing across her skin to get to her panties. When you reach the fabric, you pause, unsure of whether you should take them off or leave them on. She bought them just for your eyes, so you decide to leave them on for now. You grab at the fabric on her hips and pull upwards, pulling the fabric tight so you can bury your nose in and take a whiff. Robin whines, embarrassed about your behaviour, but you remain unbothered. You lift your head to shoot her a quick wink before pressing your tongue against the fabric. You suck at the fabric; you can taste her through it because of how wet she is. You press a soft kiss to her clit before leaning back, staring down at your girlfriend with a burning hunger.

“tongue, fingers, strap, rubbing, some other fun toys we've got kicking around here” You list off the ways you can please her as you run your fingertip gently over her stomach, stopping at the lines of the panties. She squirms a little under your touch. “C’mon, Robin. Tell me what you want,” you prompt her to answer.

“wanna feel your pussy on mine” she moans, moving her hips as she pictures you on top of her. You nod, gripping her underwear and pulling them from her body. She's pliant as she lets you move her into a position that lines up your clit with hers. You grind down as you shallowly rock your hips. The pressure of your clit rubbing against hers feels so good. The room is filled with the sounds of your wet pussies and satisfied moans.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum” whines Robin.

“Me too. Roll your hips up,” you instruct, and she does as told, thrusting up to meet you more aggressively. Your hold on her thighs steadies you as your orgasm hits you. Robin cries out your name as she's pushed over the edge with you.

When you're both done, you roll off of her, and Robin quickly switches positions. She swings a leg over you so that she's straddling you and leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“So I take it you liked my new lingerie?”

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tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48

[kingkat12]

Hiii !! I don’t know if you’re still doing Roman Godfrey imagines but if u are can u do Husband!Roman he just have gotten back from work after a hard day & u guys have a smoke session than things take a turn & u two have rough sex?? (U can do your things with the smut I can’t really think of anything 😂🫶🏽 but ty !!)

if i'm still doing Roman Godfrey imagines... IF I'M STILL DOING ROMAN GODFREY IMAGINES??? it's all i ever do, sweetheart🙈💜 i fucking loved writing this and i hope i've done your wish justice!! it took a different turn than expected, but this only means i might have to revisit this tihi... and it's the first bj i've ever written lol so hope it went well! ENJOY!!🌸

silk tie (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, bondage, oral sex (female receiving), blowjob, suit-fetish, smoking

summary: your husband has had quite the day... and now he's adamant about making it a little better

word count: 4,347

I hadn't noticed Roman was home before I walked past the balcony.

It was about three in the morning, which was an odd time for him to return from work. Or had he arrived back earlier?-- I had been asleep, so there was no way for me to know. I never waited up for him anymore, as he was usually either grumpy or completely exhausted. He wouldn't exactly take it out on me, but I was still unsure how to deal with his mood swings ever since his upir cravings got worse. 

Maybe our marriage wasn't perfect, but it had its moments. Moments such as these.

I watched as Roman leaned against the balcony railing, clearly deep in thought as he smoked a cigarette. He was still wearing his suit, not having bothered to get out of his work attire. On top of that, it was clear that he had been ripping at his hair because it looked like an absolute mess. With quiet steps, I joined his side, not saying a word. I could only look at him, revel in the upward curve of his nose, the pout of his lips, and the way he lazily balanced the cigarette between his fingers. 

"Hey, gorgeous," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "How are you?"

Roman hummed, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. "I've been here for fifteen minutes and this is my sixth cigarette. I think I'm slowly going insane,"

It wasn't unusual for Roman to get into these depressive ruts-- it would often happen when work got a little crazy and Pryce wouldn't get off his case. "You're not going insane," I stepped away from the balcony, wrapping my arms around my husband from behind. "You just need to get some sleep... Come to bed." My words were muffled against his broad back, pressing a kiss through his suit. 

Roman sighed, running his free hand over my fingers, feeling how small I was against him. "I already slept an hour in my office," 

Typical. "An hour isn't enough,"

"Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and that's all that counts," Roman stumped the cigarette against the railing, another sigh escaping him. "But don't let me keep you up."

I nuzzled my face against his back, inhaling the scent of his cologne; I had missed him today. "I don't want to go back to bed without my husband," 

"It wouldn't be the first time,"

I rolled my eyes-- enough was enough. His self-deprecation could be downright annoying sometimes, mostly because he was more stubborn than a donkey. "Talk to me, Rome, what's on your mind?"

Roman gave in, turning to me. Like this, I could see the way the bags under his eyes had darkened since this morning and the way his eyelids were halfway drooped into a look of exhaustion. "It just... hit me today that all my ties are silk,"

"... What?"

"Silk," Roman echoed, and he had a hollow look about him as he wrapped his arms around me. He put his head on top of mine before burying his nose in my hair, inhaling sharply. "The devil wrapped in silk is still the devil."

It didn't take long for me to realize that he was talking about his urges again. "You're not the devil, Roman," I drew small circles on his back, hoping to soothe him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had something to drink on top of this. "You're working through it and you're doing well. Do you not realize that?"

He hummed; "It's just not fair to you," Roman's hands went up in my hair, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I want to grow old with you, but sometimes I wonder whether it was a good decision to get married... Whether I shouldn't have been selfish enough to drag you down with me."

I put my hands against his chest, slowly pushing myself away. This was a different speech from his usual sad ones-- this was new. "... What are you saying?"

Exasperated, Roman groaned as he turned away from me, leaning over the railing once more. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "I don't-- I don't know, okay? I just want Pryce's treatments to work, to be rid of whatever the fuck I've become, and just... Fuck! I hear the beating of my heart all the time and it's driving me fucking crazy!" He drove his elbows down against the surface, covering his ears as though it would help. 

My body was begging for me to go back to sleep, but my heart was actively shattering at the sight of Roman so broken. I took slow steps towards him; with wary movements, my fingers dipped into the jacket of his suit, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. My other hand went into the front pocket of his trousers, fishing out his lighter. I wasn't the biggest endorser of smoking, but I knew exactly why Roman did it-- it slowed down his heart, making it easier to bear the constant sound of his blood pulsing through his veins. 

I put the cigarette between my lips, now feeling Roman's glossy eyes on me. Lighting it, taking a rather long drag myself, I made my way between his arms. I balanced the cigarette between my fingers, holding it up in front of his mouth, and it didn't take long before he accepted it, wrapping his plush lips around it with a satisfied sigh. 

Something about the look of relief on Roman's face gave my heart the ease it had needed all day. Knowing I could be the one to soothe him, to bring him down from his panic, assured me that we were good for each other after all. 

I reached out for his tie, feeling the silk between the pads of my fingers. "When you're not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," My hands left his tie, now resting against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart against my palm. "You've cut your tongue so many times that when life hands you a flower, you can't quite make out what it is. It takes time, Roman. Marriage takes time."

The smoke from the cigarette wrapped around us like a warm duvet, the warm summer breeze blowing it away with soft strokes. A kind, subtle smile spread across Roman's lips, finding solace in my words. His free hand traveled down to rest against the small of my back, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. "Sometimes at work, I have thoughts of simply dissolving into you," he murmured, pulling away to take another drag before continuing. "It's unexplainable, but the thought is always there... and there's nothing I want more than that."

I let out the breath I had been holding, glad to see him calm again. "Are we talking sex?"

The laugh that followed made my heart sing; "You'd think so, but that's not how I meant it," Roman took a final drag, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away somewhere. "Although... I could mean it like that."

"Of course you could," I got up on my toes to give his neck a sweet kiss, knowing I couldn't reach up to his face. "But I think our first priority would be to get some sleep, and then we'll see what we can do in the morning if we have time." 

Roman bit his lower lip, suppressing a cheeky grin. His green eyes sparkled with the familiar look of want, and I immediately knew he was up to no good. "I have to disagree... I think the first priority would be to get you out of my shirt,"

My eyes widened-- I had forgotten that I was wearing it. In my defense, it was easier to fall asleep when he was away if I wore it. "What, you want it back or something?"

"No," Roman's voice dropped as his hands went down to grab at my waist. "Just want it off."

"It's three in the morning!--"

"And since when did we care about that?" He didn't even try to suppress his growing smirk anymore, and I watched his pupils dilate in real time as ideas soared through his dirty, dirty mind. It didn't take much time before Roman took my hand into his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a wet kiss against my knuckles. My breath hitched, having missed the sensation of his lips against my body. But suddenly, he lowered my hand and pressed it up against himself, leaving me breathless and in shock. 

Roman gave in to a laugh at the expression on my face, leaning down to press a kiss against the underside of my jaw. "Are you really going to deny me when I'm in a suit? That always works like a killer on you,"

And he was definitely right about that-- everything about him right now made me want to jump him. "Who said anything about denying you?" I mumbled, rubbing him through his trousers, my fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. Swallowing hard, I realized I could feel him grow harder beneath my palm. "I just don't think we should be doing this on the balcony..."

Roman hummed, a low moan vibrating in his chest; "Yeah, good idea," I barely had time to register what was happening before his big arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. It always surprised me that he could lift me as though I weighed nothing, and I laughed against his back as he made his way back into the house with a strong grip around me. 

"Rome, for fuck's sake!" I couldn't stop the trail of giggles escaping me, happy to see this side of my husband again. "You can't be serious-- Hey!" The squeak that escaped me was unlike anything I had heard coming from my mouth before, but how else was I to react as Roman struck his hand against my ass? Something about the sting was both painful and weirdly arousing-- I couldn't put my finger on it. Was this my lack of sleep talking?

Roman proceeded to chuckle, leading us into the bedroom. "Of course I'm serious," It didn't take long before he laid me down on the bed, crawling over to me like a predator. "I'm a serious man, you know me." 

"Yeah, right," 

As Roman made space for himself between my legs, I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck to pull him close. I had waited for him to come home all evening to do just this-- the bliss that filled my body as our lips finally met was unmatched by any other heavenly feeling on earth. "I've wanted you all day," I purred against him, feeling the hardness of his cock twitching against me. 

"Don't say that shit," he whispered back, letting out a shaky breath as he raised himself up. "Makes me feel like I'm going to burst."

I bit down a giggle, my hands reaching for him once more. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since last time!"

"... Three days?"

"Three days?!" I could barely believe it-- this was outrageous. Blinking rapidly, I watched as Roman's smirk reappeared, now leaning back down to capture my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him and the fabric of his suit. "Well, I've been busy... and you've been out a lot," he murmured against my lips, his hot breath against my mouth making me shiver. "It's almost as though I need to make sure you're always here waiting for me... Because there's no way in hell I'll let another three days pass before I fuck you again."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I liked the sound of it. I liked everything about this actually-- his tongue against mine, my hands in his hair, the feeling of our hearts beating at each other through our chests. But suddenly, the weight of him disappeared off me, and before I knew it, Roman's green eyes practically pierced me as he knelt before me, my legs creasing at his thighs. 

I knew this look. This look of lust, love, and mischief; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The way his chest heaved, the way he stared down at me through his brows, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk made my stomach flutter. 

It only dawned on me what Roman actually meant when his hands went up to his tie. Silk. My eyes widened; "Oh God, Rome--"

"Let's strike a deal," he purred, drawing the black tie through his fingers as he licked his lips. "Deal with the devil, if you like. Your little wish for mine."

I nearly shuddered, feeling my pulse quicken. "And what is it that I wish?"

Roman's chuckle was darker than expected. Something told me he had wanted to do this for a while. "I know you have an affinity for my suits, so I'll keep it on. And you... will stay still," 

Stay still? I could only squeal as Roman grabbed my hips, moving me further up the bed with ease. My breaths came out in short, ragged motions as he took my wrists into his big hand, tying them to the headboard with the other. The mix of the situation and my lack of sleep made me light-headed; "Rome," I mewled out against his chest, looking up to try to meet his eyes. I let out a quiet hiss as he tightened the tie around my wrists, watching as he made sure there wasn't much wiggle room.

This was something new. 

"Perfect," Roman said, mostly to himself, before taking my face into his hands to press a wet kiss against my lips. "Fuck, this is perfect... Let's just stay like this forever, hm?"

My heart fluttered, and I had to swallow rather hard as he made his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses along my body. It was hard to say no to a man towering well over six feet dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit. I squirmed against my restraints, my lashes fluttering as I remembered how sleepy I actually was-- but the tie was tied tightly around my wrists, and there was nowhere for me to go. "Since when do you have the energy to do this at three am?" I tried, hoping to stop my breath from hitching as his hands neared the hem of my shirt.

Roman took his time with giving me a response, his fingers now grazing my bare skin, leaving me shivering with anticipation. "You know you're talking about your husband, right?" he said, pushing my shirt further up as he spoke. "Were three days enough to make you forget that I always have energy for this?"

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman leaned down to lick a wet stripe up my stomach. I let out a broken moan, tugging at my restraints once more, squirming beneath him. "Rome, shit--" As he paired his licks up with kisses, I quickly felt my arousal pooling between my legs; there was no going back now.

We had never actually talked about tying me up like this, and I wasn't sure whether this was torturous or pleasurable. All I wanted was to reach down and run my fingers through his hair, tug him closer, feel him-- everything about the denial made me further desperate. 

Seeing as I was dressed for bed, I wasn't wearing a bra; something told me that my husband approved. It didn't take long before my shirt was at my arms, Roman's lips wrapped around an aching bud as he sucked at me. I could only write and moan, feeling completely breathless. "I can't-- Fuck, Roman," 

It felt as though the smell of cigarettes swallowed me whole, dragging me deep into the depths of my arousal. My hips bucked up against him, desperate for more, but all my attempts were shut down when Roman grabbed my hips and pinned me down to the bed. "Behave," he said, a low grunt following as his grip on me tightened. 

Hearing that word, I knew I was screwed. It suddenly became very, very apparent that Roman was in one of those moods-- this was usually the side of him that would come out when he felt like everything around him was spinning out of control, meaning he had to control the only thing he felt he could; me. 

And with me being tied up and all, I couldn't help but comply. 

"Sweetheart?" Roman shifted, making sure he had my attention before he sat up. Slowly, his hand inched down to his zipper, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips. "I've had such a tough day, and seeing you like this is really making it all feel better... But I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock."

The teasing tone in his low voice was enough to drive me crazy. Along with that, the proper look about him had me struggling to breathe. There was something tantalizing about the fact that America's youngest CEO was right here, married to me, wanting and needing me. So when Roman unzipped his trousers, leading his hard cock to my mouth, I gladly accepted it.

I slid just the tip of my tongue up the underside, so light he could barely feel it-- it was mostly just the sensation of my breath. Judging by the sound of Roman's breath hitching and the slight twitch of his cock, I knew I was on the right track. I gave the tip a gentle kiss before giggling to myself, not having to look up to know he was blushing. "For fuck's sake," he breathed, reaching down to grab a full fist of my hair, pulling me closer. 

This was his way of politely saying please.

So I gave in, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, sucking him in, and tasting the drop of pre-cum that immediately landed on my tongue. It was followed by a downright lewd moan from Roman, who loosened the grip on my hair before throwing his head back just a little. I couldn't help but glance up at him, so prim and proper in his suit, yet completely unraveled by the slightest touch. 

And since my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, I reveled in the fact that I could taste him. Which is why, when Roman pulled out of my mouth with a rather wet pop, I pouted up at him as he made his way back down. But my pout quickly faded as my lips parted, my breath escaping me as he rubbed the tip of his cock over my chest. "You're too damn pretty," Roman said as he stroked himself at the sight of me. "Do you want my mouth on you before we go?"

"Yes, please," The ache between my legs almost burned-- there was nothing I wanted more in the world.

It didn't take long before Roman tucked himself back into his pants and moved down my body with eager kisses, and the anticipation nearly had me panting so hard that I was sure I might pass out. But the tension in my body quickly dissolved as Roman pulled my pyjama shorts aside, licking a wet stripe up my sex, which made my back arch off the bed. My hands strained against the tie, letting out a weak groan-- I was dying to bury my hands in his hair. 

"You're already so wet," Roman purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit. "Could've fucked you already." His fingers dug into my hips to hold me down, sucking me in as his lips covered my mound. It felt so intense, that I could barely hear my own thoughts; I heaved in sharp breaths of air, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled against my restraints. It only got worse when Roman's tongue slid over my sopping entrance, entering me, fucking me-- I was sure I was dreaming.

It was too much. Especially when he cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. I could only cry out, my fingers gripping harshly around the tie. My overstimulation washed over me like a wave, and I was sure it was due to my lack of sleep. "Roman, please, I can't... I want you in me-- A-Aah," I couldn't stop the way my hips bucked against him, nor the way my gaze darted down to watch his eyes falling shut as he savoured me, his thick, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Thankfully, my husband wasn't in the mood to keep me on the edge tonight. Roman got up, a knowing smirk spreading across his slicked lips. "I might have to tie you up like this more often," he said, palming himself through his suit. "This is quite the sight."

From his perspective, I could understand this-- it wasn't every day that he saw his wife splayed out like this, t-shirt draped just above her bare chest, and completely at his mercy. On the other hand, I was sure I had gotten just as good of a bargain. I had been begging Roman to fuck me in one of his suits, and here he was, finally complying. If this wasn't love, then I couldn't be sure. 

"Oh, you should see yourself," I purred, biting back a grin. "Mr. CEO... All mine."

Roman let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against my lower abdomen as he pulled off my pyjama bottoms. "Always been yours,"

I could only sigh, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through my veins. At the end of the day, it was true-- Roman was mine, and I was his. Bonded together through our testimony, before the law, and before all things celestial. Everything about this would've been perfect if I wasn't bonded to the bed as well. My wrists were starting to ache, but I didn't have much time to think about that as I felt Roman entering me, a low grunt escaping him. I couldn't help but shudder, feeling the familiar stretch and fullness I had been craving for so long, and I struggled against my restraints as I cried out in pleasure.

Roman kept one hand planted on my hip, the other one gripping hard at my thigh. Seeing the expression on his face was nearly enough to make me moan-- Fuck, how I had missed this. The feeling of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands on me, and being completely at his mercy. He had thankfully learned to be a little gentle with me at the start, and I felt his green eyes on me as I closed mine, lips parting at the sensation of feeling him thrust into me with slow strokes. Heaven, heaven-- it was impossible that such pleasure could be dealt by the hands of a devil. 

"Shit," Roman's hands gripped my waist, a need growing with each pump of his cock. He was so damn gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. It didn't take long before he grew impatient-- he shifted, the next snap of his hips digging his cock completely to the hilt in my warmth, a soft moan escaping him as my walls fluttered around his length.

My breath hitched, letting out a string of curse words. "Rome, please," The tie around my wrists was starting to drive me mad; "I want-- A-Ah, wanna touch you..."

I wasn't sure whether Roman was hearing me or not, his lips parting in pleasure. Eventually, he leaned forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, holding me close as I moaned against him between kisses. Now that he was even closer, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and feel the fabric of his suit against my body, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. "Please," I breathed, my back arching as his cock brushed past my sweet spot. "Rome, please..."

I could feel him smirk against my mouth, and Roman pulled back to watch the absolute desperation swimming in my eyes. "What was that?" As he waited for my response, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained in me.

For fuck's sake-- "Please!" I cried, struggling against my restraints. "I can't... I can't--"

A sense of victory flashed through Roman's green eyes, traces of a darker satisfaction spreading across his lips as he thrust all the way back into me, watching me writhe and moan beneath him, fighting the urge to rip the tie to shreds to embrace him. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to clasp my wrists, smirking as his breath landed hot against my lips.

A moan mixed in with the sigh I let out, my hands immediately flying up into his hair as the tie was tossed away somewhere on the floor. Roman laughed against the kiss I dragged him into, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his lap, his cock still in me. "That was so much fun," he purred against my lips, grabbing my ass to drive me up and down along his slicked length. "We're doing that again."

"Fuck you," I pulled Roman tightly against my chest, feeling his arms snake themselves around me with the same intensity. It hit me how much I loved the feeling of him against me, how warm he was today, and how insanely hot he looked in that damn suit. Our lips came together in open, soft kisses, breathing against each other as our eyes locked, intense pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Roman was most certainly not the devil, and I could confidently conclude with that. However, I couldn't deny that he liked to play the most devilish games at the most inappropriate times-- but I had never loved my husband more than I did at this moment, right now. 

[kurokawaia]

❛ STRONG ❜

Iguro Obanai X Fem!Reader

WC;500 ~+| !MDNI! | TW/CW :: fluff

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: 1st, thx again 4 writing my request! 2nd, I had another one so I'll put it here! Obanai x fem! Reader who's not in the corp, but she's very strong. Like stronger than Mitsuri. Obanai sees the reader kill a demon the size of a mountain by kicking its jaw with her legs and he's like "...why is that sort of attractive-" once they meet, Kaburamaru goes up 2 reader for pets and Obanai is kinda impressed bc Kaburamaru never does that. Reader and Obanai then get to know one another better. Sorry if this is long/confusing ToT - @freddleafton12345-blog

m.list | demon slayer m.list

You sprint off towards another village, your speed and grace as it always has been, until you feel it-something big, something formidable.

A demon.

You charge forward, dodging its wild swings with ease, feeling the power build up in your legs as you position yourself right beneath its massive jaw. You set yourself, muscles tensed, and with one swift and upward kick, you send the demon's head snapping back with a sickening crack.

It's all over in just a few seconds.

You feel eyes on you from across the forest. You turn to see someone dressed in black and white, black hair, mis-matched eyes. Your gaze moves to his katana, he's part of the demon slayer corps.

His eyes catch yours, and for one fleeting instant, his lips part, as if to say something. He does nothing but simply stands there,, processing the scene before him.

"...why is that....?" attractive. The words slip from his mouth in a murmur-quiet enough that he thinks you didn't hear them.

Before either of you can say anything, Kaburamaru, his snake, slithers down from his shoulder and beelines toward you. You crouch, offering your hand, and with Obanai looking utterly surprised, Kaburamaru wraps around your arm, clearly enjoying the attention.

Obanai blinks, looking slightly taken aback. "He...doesn't usually do that."

You continue to stroke the snakes head gently and raise an eyebrow. "Guess I've got a way with animals," you go on, smiling softly.

His eyes are on you, and you can tell he's interested. "You're not part of the Corps."

You rise to your feet, Kaburamaru still coiled around your arm, and shrug. "No, but that doesn't mean I can't handle a few demons."

"More than handle," he mutters under his breath.

Obanai takes a step closer, observing as Kaburamaru continues to unwind in your company. "He likes you. He's usually not so... trusting."

You meet his gaze, a little caught off guard. "Maybe Kaburamaru thinks I'm not so bad." You smirk. "What about you? You trust me?"

Obanai turns his head, his eyes slitting as he considers. "I don't trust easily," he says. "But. you're strong. Stronger than most but strength isn't everything."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What is, then?"

He hesitates like he doesn't know how to answer before finally saying, "Connection matters more." His eyes flick down to Kaburamaru, still plastered against your side.

"Connection, huh?" You give the snake one last stroke, before reaching out gentle and offering him back to Obanai. "I guess we'll see if we can build one."

Obanai reaches out and takes Kaburamaru, his fingers touching yours for just a second. "Maybe we will," he says softly.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[sku1l-b4e]

Maybe like We are tom's best friend and have a sleepover at his anddd in the middle of the night we get thirsty or Need to go to the Toilette (you can choose it doesnt matterrr) and a Part of Bill's door is open and you see him masturbating (☺️) and he Sees you maybe or you Go to him and be like ,,Hey sorry your door was open" I DONT KNOWW" (rest is up to you)

(My english is bad im sorry and sorry that it is so long)

Sorry !!

It was early in the morning, probably not even past 2:30AM, so it was no surprise that your best friend, Tom, is still asleep next to you. You slowly sit up, trying to avoid waking the sleeping boy beside you, you free his arm from around your ribs to your lap as your rest your head against the headboard, you glance around the dark room, admiring the collection of guitars before a sudden wave of dehydration comes over you. You groan quietly and remove Tom's arm from your lap, slowly standing from his bed and stretching out your back.

You leave Tom's room, silently making your way down the hall and towards the kitchen when you hear a soft slapping sound coming from a room to your left. You look in the direction of the noise and your ears now pick up the sound of sound grunts and whines, it takes a moment to register that your standing in front of the ajar door of Bill's bedroom. You can't see him, but you decide to see if he's awake or asleep.

You slowly push open the door, only to be greeted with the sight of an almost naked Bill, his head thrown back and his right hand moving up and down his throbbing cock. You freeze, but his door swings open a little more and the hinges creak, causing him to look up and almost scream at the realization that his brothers best friend has just walked in on him masterbating.

"S-shit... I'm so sorry, Bill, I didnt-" you start, but he quickly shushes you and beckons you closer. You're hesitant but do so anyway, because who wouldn't? He quickly reassured you that it was okay, that it was an honest mistake, but he couldn't help but notice that your eyes kept darting between his face and his cock...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Maybe that's how you got here, kneeling by the side of Bill's bed, his legs either side of you as he thrusts his hips up into your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing erection, his slender fingers tangled in your hair and your hands gripping onto the outside of his thighs.

"Fuck- jaja, that's it... ohhh..." His hushed voice echos through the quiet house, the only other noise being your quiet gags and his pretty moans. Your head moves down to meet his upwards thrusts, you drag your tongue along the bottom of his dick, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he uses the same situation he had been fantasizing about for his personal pleasure. God, he's loved you for months, he'd want to at least take you on a date first but he's too busy chasing his orgasm too even register any other feeling than lust.

His thrusts eventually become more sloppy, indicating that he's getting closer and closer to his orgasm. You force his hips down, pinning them to the bed as you push your head down, your nose brushing against his lower abdomen. You deepthroat him a couple times, his soft moans turning into whines and drabbles of German.

He speeds through a sentence in German, his hips pushing against your hands, his own hands grip your hair, forcing your head all the way down until you gag and he lets out a looooong groan, his warm seed shooting down your throat whilst his mouth falls open and strings of incoherent words fall out from between his pink lips.

Your about to pull yourself off of Bill and swallow, when a familiar voice comes from behind.

"Y/N?"

[firenati0n]

hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.

i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!

here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!

Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep.  The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions.  If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting.  She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices.  “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy.  After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed.  “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry. 

xoxo roop

+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf

@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius

@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew

@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka

@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills

@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt

@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist

[seancekitsch]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a John allerdyce x reader where they were friends back at Xavier's school and they meet again in the void. They have one night stand because of how lonely they feel there and then John confesses that he was in love with her at school

hehehehe hi i loved this one

I still don't know who you are, I only know that I'm still lonely

warnings: smut with feelings, smoking, reader in her feels thinking about the implications of the multiverse, ambiguous but fluffy ending

The void is cold at night, but sitting out on the roof of your trailer, you barely feel it. You stare up, stars dotting the sky, something you hadn’t seen in years before being sent here. It still tripped you out, the silence of the void most nights, compared to living in New York after graduating Xaviers. You can hear some kind of revelry going on from deep within the giant skull, but you don’t move to join them. What would be the point? These were all people you’d fought at one time, many of them also trying to kill you at one point. You don’t want to drink with them, as much as you miss that kind of camaraderie. Too much blood had been spilled for your liking, too much of it your own. 

“Green thumb!” That voice calls, and you roll your eyes at the nickname. 

“What do you want, firebug?” you respond, leaning over the edge of the roof to look at John. You already know what he wants though, one hand already pawing through your bag.  There was a strategic reason Cassandra didn’t feed you to that creepy fucking thing in the sky. You can grow plants out of even a drop of water, and now you’re the cash crop in exchange for safety. Food, tobacco, alcohol. Funny how that works. Do any of them know you could poison them all? Does Cassandra know you’ve considered it?

John swings himself up the ladder to join you, plopping himself down as you finally fish out the baggie of freshly rolled cigarettes.

“You better light me up too,” you mumble, putting a second one to your lips. 

“Why don’t you ever hang with us?” he asks, ignoring your plea until you tug his wrist so the flame is close enough to put your face against. You take a long drag, biting the edge of it as you let the smoke drift upwards from your lips, french inhaling.

“Okay, then I guess,” he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, “Why don’t you ever hang with me?”

You sigh, leaning back on your arms, plucking the cigarette from your lips.

“It’s weird. The last three times I saw you,” you sigh again, “It’s like, one day we were playing seven minutes in heaven at Bobby’s birthday party, and then the next you left us for Magneto, and then… years passed the sentinels were after you and I could do nothing. Or at least, my John was. But now apparently there are infinite versions of us and maybe you didn’t even do any of that, does it matter?”

You shrug, almost despairingly. The John you remember is not unlike this one. The John you knew was a friend, an almost something, until he wasn’t. One day the mansion was raided, and then all the sudden he was the enemy, and then Rogue and Bishop held you back as sentinels closed in on him. You hadn’t watched him die, you couldn’t. It’s for the same reason you forgave him for his part on Alcatraz instantly, even if that had caused a rift in your friendship with Bobby and Rogue. 

“Hey I get it,” he says, fingers twitching as if he were to reach out to you, “but it gets lonely out there. Maybe I want a friend.”

“A friend?” you scoff, “You’ve got a bunch of them down there.” 

You motion down towards the faint noise with your cigarette, biting your lip. A friend; what a weird concept for the void. 

“Yeah, none of them will play seven minutes in heaven with me,” he scrunches up his face in mock disgust. And maybe another timeline where you’d waken up after Bobby’s birthday party you would have told him you had a crush on him, and then maybe he wouldn’t have left. Maybe there were even several timelines where that happened. You look to the stars, foreign in pattern. No constellations you can make out. 

“Is that your attempt at flirting?” you ask, not wanting to actually dignify it with an answer. You pull smoke through your lips again, the cigarette now half done. And it’s the spent ash falling from the tip of it that signals to you how long you’ve been talking to the man next to you. A physical timer to signify the longest conversation you’ve had since Cassandra let you into this little club of hers. 

“I dunno,” he leans in close, warmth radiating through the cold desert air between you, “is it working?”

You scoff at him again, not giving him an answer, but you lean closer. Your shoulders now touch, and the chill of the air leaves you. Heat glides across your skin, melting into your pores, gentle warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. Without thinking, you lean into the touch, pressing your arm against his to chase the heat. John says nothing, for once having the foresight to know words aren’t needed or wanted, and instead envelops you in an awkward side hug. God, how long has it fucking been since you’ve been hugged? You wrap your arms around his shoulders, a gesture he also chases, grip on you tightening as he rests his cheek against the curve of your bicep. You rest your own against his head, savoring the feeling of a simple embrace. His hands start to trace circles on your back, fingers drawing patterns on your hip. You hum in appreciation, his touch a salve on a wound you don’t recognize. You move in closer, your cigarette now abandoned to grasp and map out the expanse of John’s shoulders, straining against the awkward side hold to get even closer to him. One of your hands moves up to the base of his skull, fingers tangling in his hair. 

John groans. 

“Thats a dangerous move,” he warns you, but then you feel his lips brush against your arm through your tee shirt. Returning the motion, not even thinking about it, your lips find the crown of his head. Your bodies move involuntarily, seeking the closeness, affection between you. He groans again, and clumsily pulls you onto his lap to straddle him. Before either of you can think too hard about it, you come together in a kiss, a searing, messy thing. He holds you tight, pressing your chest to his, molding your bodies together. A strange noise leaves his mouth, a half moan half whimper reverberates against your lips as your hips make contact with his.  

Curious, you grind your hips down, firm against his lap. Another whimper-moan escapes him, this time, desperate and hungry. His lips move against yours harshly, as if this is a last passionate kiss before an execution. You gasp as teeth graze your lip, stubble burns your chin, intoxicating as your bodies move. 

“Fuck,” he pants, breaking the kiss only to still speak against your face, “I need you.” 

You’re both breathless, moving in tandem rubbing against one another. 

“Where?” you tease him, and then drag your hand down between you to land on his crotch, “Here?”

He hisses as he nods. He’s hard and hot against your palm, already straining against his pants. A bold surge of confidence has you moving your hand against him, almost studying how he reacts. You feel his cheek heat up against you, certain an adorable blush creeps over him. Fuck, you want more. 

“Never took you for a fuckin’ tease.”

There’s laughter in his voice, and he squeezes your hips hard trying to urge you to keep touching him. 

So he’s thought about this before. 

“What’d you take me for, then?” Your voice sounds foreign to you, strained and thick from emotions you won’t dare let out. 

“You know I’m kidding, right?” he asks, then presses a kiss to your jawline, “I thought you’d be meaner.”

He continues to kiss up your jaw, stopping only to nibble on your earlobe. You giggle as you try to push him away, girly and vulnerable. 

“We should go inside,” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and that’s that.

Your trailer is simple, enough room for a table, a hot plate, a cot, and a jug of water. Last time John had been in your space, it was a teen girl’s dorm filled with stuffed animals (some of which he had won for you), trinkets galore, plush blankets, cd collections, and polaroid collages documenting all of your friends and their antics. Though even in its scarcity, you’ve managed to make it your own. You’ve made paints from berries and flowers you’ve grown to paint murals, to write on the walls. It had become a hobby since photography was out of the question. You look at John almost nervously, wondering what he must think of all of this. His hands move at your waist, pulling up your shirt to explore bare skin. 

“Get your pretty ass on that bed,” John commands you, hand snaking its way down to grab a handful of asscheek. You yelp at the harsh contact, but oblige him, turning to plop yourself down on the bed. Weak old springs creak under you, and you kick off your loosely laced boots to bring your feet up onto the bed. You scoot back onto the bed, beckoning him as bent knees fall open. 

John wastes no time joining you, undoing his own boots to climb on top of you. His hair tickles your face as it dangles in anticipation of a kiss, his hips slotted between your thighs.

“Point of no return,” you warn him. Impulsive, selfish John; Protective, lonely John. There’s no conflict in his lust blown eyes, no questioning or hesitancy. He cups your cheek gently, and presses a languid kiss onto your lips. 

You follow that one with a much more aggressive kiss, all but yanking him down onto you as your tongue moves against his bottom lip. His hand moves from your cheek to the base of your neck, thumb pressing just ever so lightly on your throat, and you whine at his touch. Heat floods to your core, every nerve in your body begging for more of him. 

John understands, and moves accordingly, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands travel further south. One of his hands finds purchase again on your hip, while the other drags between your thighs. 

“Am I your friend yet?” he asks against your lips, and you nod desperately. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right now as long as he keeps touching you. 

He pulls away from you, his eyes studying you as his fingers make contact with your clothed core. You sharply inhale as your hips buck at the contact, John’s hand steadying you at your hip. He presses harder against you, smiling as he’s given another buck of your hips. 

“How ‘bout you let your friend John make you feel good then?”

“Please, fuck,” you gasp, your hands reaching up to try to pull him back down, “John, I need you to-“

He shushes you, and pulls further away, hands trailing down your form as he sits back on his heels. John unbuttons your pants before leaning back over you.

His hands work quickly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it hastily out of the way to reveal you to him. You cringe slightly when you remember that the flimsy bra you’re wearing is stained; old blood discolors the top of each cup, a reminder of a scuffle you’d gotten yourself into. If he notices, John makes no mention, instead just groaning appreciatively as he replaces the cups with his own big hands. His lips move from your neck to your collarbone, mapping out your skin like new territory. You arch your back into his motions, unable to stop the whining keen from your mouth as he sucks a possessive hickey right where your collarbone meets the front of your throat.

He runs his fingers down your stomach, feather light touches that tickle you and leave trails of goosebumps in their wake. 

His rough hands feel like home against your skin, hands that hold memory and shared history, maybe even multitudes of them. In all the other timelines, does John undress you as hastily as this? In other timelines, are you with John? It’s a stream of questioning that blurs and muddles like the ripple of a wave, disrupted by your pants being pulled from your legs, your underwear following shortly after. 

He’s extremely ungraceful removing his own clothes, clamoring off the bed to shimmy out of his pants and boxers, practically whipping his shirt off over his head. You’re certain you hear a button pop somewhere. This eagerness is easily the sexiest thing about John, just an absolute need to do this to you. If his kiss was a spark, this move right here is a wildfire. You start to sit up, legs still open and inviting as you raise a finger to beckon him back over. Only, He practically tackles you back onto the bed. You’re thrown into your pillows, plush cotton and down cradling your skull as he eclipses the little light that exists. 

“John!” you giggle as his frame covers yours again, his hair falling down and brushing your cheeks. 

Your hands meet each others, then dance past, traveling across bare shoulders, traversing bare chests. Panting, moaning mixing with the air between you. He presses his hips into yours, his hardness against you. 

“John,” you gasp, your hips jerking against his, instant friction blazing. It’s intoxicating, the John of it all surrounding you, his body against yours. 

“Do that again,” he begs, and your hips comply, this time much more intentional. You drag yourself against him, his shaft getting caught in and splitting your lips. You gasp sharply, stopping in your tracks as he makes contact with your clit. Fuckfuckfuck. Your vision goes white for a moment, heaven behind your eyelids. John groans, dipping his head low to nip at your jaw. His hands find your chest, kneading and groping you, encouraging you to keep moving. The friction of the drag becomes less and less as your hips move, and if this were another time and place, you might be embarrassed at how obvious your want was growing; but here, here you feel emboldened by it, encouraged by John’s hips trying to meet your motions, moving himself through that want just as needy and desperate. He gasps and groans against your ear, and you swear, you’ll finish just like this. 

“On top,” John pants, “Need you…”

He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. You nod, kissing him again as you grab onto his shoulders, a silent urging for him to flip your position. His arms wrap around you, hugging you close as he turns himself. It’s like a muscle memory, the way the two of you work together seamlessly in this way. Suddenly, the idea that this John is your John isn’t such an insane thought. Your John was intuitive like this. 

You tilt your hips into hip, his cock now resting against his stomach, a much easier angle to grind yourself down onto him. You test the waters with the first stroke, a loud appreciative groan responds. The second one is shallow, technically several mini grinds, stroking yourself up and sown his shaft, clit catching along the head and making your shudder. Johns fingers dig into your thighs, his teeth gritted and brow furrowed in concentration. 

“You’re a lot more patient than I thought you’d be,” you mention, though your voice shakes and clearly youre hurtling towards losing your resolve yourself. 

“Please,” he begs, “Please, baby.”

And at that you’re a goner.  You nod, lips falling open as you maneuver yourself over him, his hands immediately helping, grasping the base of his shaft in one hand and rubbing gentle strokes on your waist with the other. 

Two gasps fill the air as his tip meets your entrance, and as if shocked, Johns hands move back to your knees, holding them tightly as if bracing himself for impact.

You ease yourself onto him, an involuntary hiss between gritted teeth as you adjust to the size of him. Fuck, he hadn’t felt this big when you were groping him earlier. The stretch is divine, though, your lashes fluttering closed as your hips meet his. Both of you sigh, a seal of heat and need bonding the two of you together. His hands move from your knees, trialing up your thighs to find your hips again. His thumbs dig into your skin, and for a moment it feels like pain, breaking through to something else. 

As if compelled, you find yourself moving, not caring about getting comfortable and adjusting. Shallow thrusts; ripples in the tide. You grind down as you hips kiss his again, slow and deliberate. Teasing.

John practically whimpers below you, his grip on you tightening and loosening as he flexes his hands against you, clearly attempting restraint. How out of character for your John, you think, not even bothering to remind yourself this probably isn’t yours. 

“You don’t have to hold back,” you tell him, your voice watery and wavering, “Y’won’t break me.”

His eyes leave your chest to meet yours, asking permission through a bitten lip. 

“Fuck me,” you say, resolve returning to your voice. You grab one of his hands, and move it to your ass, pushing his palm into the meat of one cheek until his fingers dig themselves in. At this rate, trails of his fingers with stay bruised on you for a week. Good, you think.

John breathes out, a half sigh half chuckle, and then nods as if you’ve challenged him; and maybe you have, with the way that he looks at you the way he looked at battle twenty years ago. 

His grasp on you never moves, but his hips buck up into yours, his heels dig into your mattress. You bounce up, thrown from stability at the movement, a yelp turns into a laugh, and you plant your hands on his chest. 

“Hang on,” he jokes, and then thrusts again. 

John sets an agonizing pace. He is neither slow nor gentle; forceful movements, energy buzzing in every muscle. He fucks fast, and hard, but his face is one of pure delight in the starlight. He smiles up at you like you made the stars yourself. You find yourself struggling to catch your breath under the heat rising in your cheeks, little keens and moans leaving a smile that rivals his. 

He breaks his pattern by rolling his hips, a loud moan ripping itself from your throat as your body jolts, a clear warning you won’t last too much longer.

“I’m- I-“ you try to warn him, and he nods knowingly. 

“I got you,” he assures you, his own voice sounding as out of control as yours. He tilts your hips in his hands, the next thrust now coming pelvis to pelvis, your clit bumping against where hair meets the base of his shaft. Your fingers curl and dig into his chest, begging to leave bruises of their own, to mark him the way he marks you. Something, if even temporary, to show that the desolation was staved off for at least one night. Something that, every time John looks in a mirror, he can trace the patterns of you in his skin. Each thrust earns a moan from you now, any semblance of control or shame gone now as everything becomes John in your world. 

He speeds up, his own moaning mingling with yours, chasing his own end, a mutual high. His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm, speed and that delicious bump of his pelvis against your clit becoming his goal more than consistency, chasing the way you jolt and whine in his grasp. 

“Gonna let me have it?” he asks, hand flexing, but never leaving your ass. You nod, head bobbing wildly with desperation. John lifts his hips fully off the bed, his thrusts wild and harsh; the need to have you come undone on his eclipsing anything else. 

He babbles praise, half sentences of sweet nothings and encouraging, begging for you to come on his cock one moment and then telling you how pretty you look the next. He moans, cutting his own sentences off, switches up his stroking, interrupts himself in the desperation to please you. 

You hold on for dear life, pleasure spiking with each of John’s thrust. Your peak meets you quickly, John’s body a lightning rod for your ecstasy. 

“Fuck!” you come with a cry, shoulders crumpling as you begin to shake. Your hand planted on his chest curls, your nails digging into the smattering of hair between his pectorals. John’s lips are parted, eyes concentrating on you, taking in every second of this; the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way your body responds to his thrusting below you. You ride it out, John’s hold on your hips and his thrusts upward both becoming more gentle, your body contorting and contracting around him.

He pulls you back down, strong arms holding you to his chest. John presses sloppy kisses to your face, no real rhythm or pattern; just holds you as you come down from release, the aftershocks of pleasure. Your end triggers his, lazy shallow thrusts meet a shuddering groan, and heat spills against the inside of your thigh. Your hands find his hair, smoothing and combing through it, a grounding gesture as you lay folded above him. 

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity, until he mumbles something about your knees and moves you off of him. However the cold air of the night has no time to sink into your bones before he engulfs you in an embrace, snuggling closely into wordless comfort. 

When you wake up, your shades are drawn, only lines of dawn’s light shining through and replacing last night’s starlight. The first thing you notice is the streaks illuminating your little den. 

The next thing you notice is the quiet snoring of the body next to you. But, as if on cue, he wakes at the slightest shift of your body, still wrapped in his arms. Instead of letting you go, or moving, he just pulls you closer, snuggling in under the thin sheet, his skin warm on yours. 

“Quit moving, babe,” he mumbles, pressing a placating kiss to your forehead.

“You’re still here,” you say, sleepiness not hiding the surprise in your voice. 

He chuckles, and presses another kiss to your face, closer to your brow.

“Mhm, ‘course I am,” his lips drag across your face as he repositions, leaning over your frame. His hand moves, and replaces itself to rest on your chest, a teasing squeeze as he kisses your nose. 

“I’m glad,” you tell him, pushing him until there’s a bit of space for you to breathe, “I missed you.”

John searches your face, noting every crease and smile line, eyes darting from one feature to the next, soaking you in. You feel studied, like a bug pinned and flat; every bump and flaw and scar from a lifetime of fighting and running laid bare for him. 

Before you can retreat inward, John opens his mouth. 

“You know I loved you, right?” 

Your breath hitches, a ghost of a gasp. A distant memory of fumbled kisses in a closet; of putting a cold spoon against a hickey, a chorus of teasing from friends. 

You want to remind him he’s probably not even the one from your timeline, that your John was probably dead. But in infinite timelines, how many ways could that not happen? How many timelines have John staying, have John finding you again?

Your hand finds his cheek, calloused fingers dancing over his stubble. He’s handsome in a way you never imagined when you were doodling hearts next to little flames in your notebooks in class. Rugged, desert worn, masculine. Fuck it.

Is this not John finding you again, timelines be damned? 

“I had a feeling.”

You smile as you pull him back down for a kiss.

[dhorrl]

Make Out Session

Katsuki Bakugo/Reader

MDNI 18+

Trigger warning:

Nothing much? Some cursing, dry humping.

Characters are aged up to over 18 always (I feel like UA shouldn’t even start until they’re college age anyways, let them be teens!)

Her phone pinged with a text from Katsuki.

My room tonight? Movie?

It was impossible to keep a straight face after reading that. Movie night in Katsuki's room was code for turning on the TV and making out until they couldn't stand up straight. As fun as it was, having to go back to her room, panties dripping with arousal and grinding into a pillow on her bed to satisfy the ache in her stomach wasn't exactly her idea of a dream.

Sounds fun. You better have snacks.

Oh, I'll give you a snack, alright.

Wow, he was shameless.

~~~

The makeout session was in full swing, and per usual, both of them were hitting the point where they wanted more but were hesitant. Katsuki had this notion that their first time, not just together but their first time EVER, couldn't just be in a cramped dorm room bed.

"Kats? Roll on your back. I want to try something."

He hesitated, not usually one to take orders, even from his girlfriend, but the desperation in his pants clouded his decision. He slid off her, laying out flat, as she climbed on and straddled over his aching erection. He groaned deeply as she pressed her heat over him, feeling the pool of liquid forming in her panties.

"Just let me do this. Please."

Slowly, she ground her hips back and forth, hands on his abdomen for support. She leaned forward ever so slightly, aiming to rub that bundle of nerves against his hard-on under his sweatpants.

"Oh, fuck. Kats, I'm so wet, and this feels so good."

She kept grinding away as Katsuki's hips involuntarily jerked upward, trying to increase the pressure.

"Fuuck, yes, keep going, baby."

Why hadn't he thought of this yet? This was much better than the hand job he would give himself after she left. All he thought about lately was fucking her, wondering what her pussy would feel like clenching around him. But his stupid fucking feelings for her were stopping him. As much as he'd love to rip her clothes off and fuck her into the mattress, he needed to do it right. Fuck, goddamn feelings and shit.

They kept this pace going, both aching and chasing what they needed at the moment. She wanted to kiss him, but if she leaned forward, she would lose this sweet spot she found, and she was so close it was killing her.

"Kat, I'm about to cum, fuck yes, I'm there."

Her legs shook hard, her body convulsed with the shooting pleasure through her whole body. Her moans were louder than anything she had when fingering herself, and she shot one hand up to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the noise to not alert the rest of the dorm to their amorous activities. Watching her get off from grinding like that, Katsuki lost control.

"Baby, I'm gonna keep going a second, please I'm about to cum just watching you."

He started jerking his hips more erratically. Even though the feeling was starting to feel overwhelming, she wanted to give him back what he had just given her. The overstimulation was insane, and her panties were soaking through. Katsuki was fixated on her face, watching it twist and contort with the extended pleasure he was giving her.

"Fuck! I'm cumming!"

He jerked a few more times, shooting into his sweatpants, leaving a sticky wet spot just above the equally drenched spot she left from grinding on him.

"Baby, that is so fucking hot," he said, reaching down to touch the damp place she made, and sneaking in a bit of touch outside her shorts, pressing down on her sensitive clit.

"Hey!" She laughed, slapping his hand away. He grabbed her hand, pulled her into his chest, and used his other hand to pull her into a heated kiss.

"You're coming back tomorrow, right? I don't think I can jack off ever again after that."

[brokendoor16]

Okay. So I'm aware that we LOVE love of my life for S3 post-angel depression Crowley, but hear me out. What I actually NEED in S3 is a (ridiculously, impossibly, drunk-to-the-extent-that-would-kill-a-mere-mortal) post-angel depression Crowley doing karaoke to Bohemian Rhapsody. JUST IMAGINE THE FUCKING MOOD SWINGS IN THAT SONG-

As a brief demonstration, I will now pick a lyric from each verse (I'm so sorry guys, this is what happens when I don't sleep so now it's all of your problems):

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy- delivered in the MOST fucking overdramatic way possible, probably throwing his arms around a looking up (to curse Heaven- AKA try and figure out if Aziraphale's about to watch him embarrass himself again)

Mama, just killed a man- standing up from his chair (this scene is taking place at the closed coffee shop, I've just decided this), with an IMPECCABLE Freddie Mercury impression and kinda staring into Nina's soul (she's both amused and terrified)

I don't wanna die // I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all- slurring his words, slumping back into a chair, sounding utterly depressed and also done with life. Maggie is deeply concerned and trying to count up how much wine he's drank.

Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?- completely manic. At the peak of drunkeness. At some point he has got up on the table and is now pointing at Nina like he's expecting her to actually DO the fucking Fandango (tbh he probably is)

BONUS LINE FROM THE SAME VERSE: Thunderbolts and lightening, very very frightening me- again, peak drunkeness. Slurring his words so hard you can barely tell what he's saying. Stumbling off of the table but still stupidly manic.

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?- looking up (let's be honest he's probably fallen over and is hauling himself off of the floor) at Maggie and Nina, hammered out of his mind but oddly endearing (according to Maggie, at least. Nina has plenty of words about the whole display and 'endearing' is most DEFINITELY not one of them)

Beezlebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me- practically fucking SCREAMING, barely able to stand up but somehow with an inhuman amount of energy and finding himself the funniest being to ever grace the earth because BEEZLEBUB

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?- suddenly recovering a whole lot of strength. And anger. Standing up, potentially smoking, staring directly upwards and SCREAMING (he's not doing well guys)

Nothing really matters // nothing really matters to me- there's no more energy. He's on the floor and too drunk to get back up. Probably just slumps over clutching a wine bottle (did I mention he's been using it as a mic?) and goes to sleep. Maggie, Nina, and Aziraphale (IF he's watching) and deeply concerned. He wakes up with a banging headache and an intense feeling of embarrassment.

So yes. That was my TED talk on why Crowley should get drunk and sing Bohemian Rhapsody in S3. Thank you for making it to the end of this train wreck, and I sincerely apologise. I'm very sleep deprived.

[inighttra]

Yandere!Demon!Tengen and Wives x Fem!Hashira!Reader

Decided to pick this as my first upload to Tumblr. This was cross posted to my Wattpad account.

Warnings: Poisoning, blood consumption (just a small bit), injury, forced relationship.

Words- 2.7k

=========================================

Your POV

"He's near." The shadows whisper causing me to sit up, "And they're with him."

"They're? He must've brought his wives this time." I chuckle sheathing my sword, "Perhaps he's gotten tired of losing."

The shadows chuckle in response before disappearing into the back of my mind. I sigh shifting my body, so my legs were hanging off the tree branch. I begin to swing the limbs back and forth waiting for Tengen to appear out of the tree line. Of course I'm sure you're wondering how this happened-how I'm nonchalantly waiting for an upper moon and how come I have four demons on my trail? Well that's an easy answer-I'm a Hashira. To be more specific, the Shadow Hashira. I was able to use shadows not only in combat, but also escapes too. I had run into the upper moon and about a year ago.

The shadows kept me hidden as I watched, the upper moon frowning as he grabbed the man by his throat. I use the shadows to get me closer taking a deep breath before leaping at them. I cut the demon's hand, the civilian dropping to the ground a few seconds later. I could feel his gaze on my back, turning to face him a few seconds later. As we made eye contact his mouth curved upward into a smirk.

"What a flashy entrance!" He laughs as his hand regenerated, allowing the civilian to turn tail and run, "But interrupting my dinner was quite unflashy."

"I believe getting strangled to death is quite unflashy. I can't stand there and allow that."

A 'hmph' is all that left the demon as his eyes scanned my form. I sat there getting a bit bored whilst he checked. me out.

"Are you just going to look at me all night or can we actually get to the fun part?"

His smile returns as he straightened his posture, "I like you. What's your name?"

"Y/N. You are?"

"Tengen Uzui. Y/N huh? I think Y/N Uzui sounds better."

I don't respond, merely raising a brow at him before getting into a fighting position. Tengen's smirk remains as he twirled his dual blade Nichirin swords. Once he stopped, I dash towards him, our swords clashing halfway. Neither one of us budged, our strengths evenly matched while we pushed at each other.

Eventually I forced our stalemate to end, letting him push me back. I land on my feet not far away and just in time to observe Tengen running at me. My sword turns pitch black as I summon two shadows beside me, serpent heads shooting out and rushing towards him. I raise my sword as he slashed and dodged them, both of us exchanging strikes. I will admit it was slightly difficult to keep up with his momentum at first, but it didn't take long for me to match it. I couldn't help but smirk when his fuchsia eyes met mine, the demon also seeming happy to finally have a good opponent.

More shadow serpents appear forcing him away from me. He slashed at them, and I watch in amusement when he jumped into the air. At first, I thought my serpents would take care of him, lunging at his free-falling form. However, within a blink of an eye he cut them all down, his form reappearing just inches away from me. My eyes widen while my hands attempt to move my sword in front of me. It was hopeless though. He'd reach me by the time I was able to do so. My mind raced through counter measures, and it seemed the shadows took my safety into their own hands.

Before he could grab me however a black arm shout out from the shadow beside us, grabbing the upper moon and throwing him away. Tengen grunts as he hits a few trees, stopping himself a few seconds later.

"Huh?" He speaks as his eyes find mine once more, "How many things do you have in there?!"

"None technically speaking." I chuckle landing not too far from him, "I can't help it if the shadows are protective of me."

"Well tell them to stay out of it!"

"Come now that's not really fair Tengen. Don't you wish to best me in a fair fight? It would be quite unflashy for you not to."

I don't give him time to respond, taking the chance to go on the offensive. He twirls his Nichirin swords keeping up with my strikes with ease. I decide to take it up a notch, once again incorporating the shadows. Serpents and limbs strike out from the darkness attempting to disrupt his defense. The upper moon kept up however, his smile never faltering whilst dispersing my attacks. Although as his confidence built so did the openings. Eventually he left one wide enough for me to get a strike through. My hit was just off the mark though taking off the demon's jaw before the shadow serpents sunk their teeth into his shoulders throwing him into the trees.

The upper moon took the strikes with pride, his eyes holding something a kin to lust and joy. The shadows hiss as he stands once more, the flesh of his shoulders and jaw swiftly repairing themselves.

"That settles it." He purrs wiping away the blood from his reformed mouth, "You'll be my fourth wife."

"Oh a fourth?~" I purr observing his recovering form, "Where are your other three wives?~"

"Not here but don't fret. Once I turn you, you'll have all the time you need to get to know them."

"Bringing another woman into your relationship without consoling your wives? Quite scandalous you know."

"They'll like you. I know it."

We charged each other once more, both of us exchanging cuts with one another. His pupils widened while the scent of my blood fills the air, fueling the demon's attempt to capture me. Our battle continued for quite some time, the exhaustion beginning to catch up to me. Tengen noticed of course, his attacks turning more feral forcing me to use more energy.

"The sun is almost here." The shadows whisper grabbing my attention, "We should retreat before our power is weakened."

My eyes narrow knowing that they were right. My power was greatly weakened when the sun was up, and I would hate for the male in front of me to burn to death. I dodge one more attack before the shadows enveloped me, hiding me from his senses. I'm know not supposed to, but I couldn't help it. For some reason this demon intrigued me. I appear from the shadows on a nearby tree branch, looking down at the demon as his head swiveled in search of me.

"You should get going." I state causing his gaze to snap to my form, "The sun is going to rise in half an hour. The nearest structure is easily 45 minutes away, but I believe in you. I would be completely bed ridden if this was our first and last meeting." I tease sheathing my sword.

Tengen relaxed placing his swords on his shoulders while he laughed once more, "You aren't even my wife yet and you're worrying about me? I'm truly touched."

I roll my eyes when the shadows begin to envelop me once more, "We'll see if that happens. Although do be sure to bring your wives along for the next battle. I wish to see if they're real or not."

"You don't have a choice Y/N. You will become my fourth wife."

"We'll see Tengen." I reply before finally allowing the shadows to teleport me away.

And we've been playing cat and mouse since. We've had at least four battles since then, none of them having a clear victor. It's not long before I spot four forms appearing from the tree line. They halt in the middle, all four demons looking around the small clearing. Tengen steps forward raising his head high before he opens his mouth.

"Where are you Y/N?~ We can smell you. Come out now."

"Ooh so scary." I snicker causing their eyes to snap towards me, "But there's no need for threats. I've been here this whole time." I jump down from the tree branch eyeing the three other women beside him, "And you three must be Suma, Makio, and Hina. I was beginning to think you weren't real since Tengen never brought you along for our battles."

"I told you it was just bad timing-"

"Tengen told you about us?" Suma sniffles her eyes widening as tears gathered in them.

"Oh yes he tells quite a lot about you three. One could say he's smitten." I smirk watching as the male tensed when the three blushed and turned towards him.

"Tengen!~" Suma sobs throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him.

Makio growls grabbing the woman and attempting to rip her off of him, "Get off him you idiot! Focus on the reason we came here!"

"Makio is right Suma," Hina speaks up causing the two to stop, "We need to focus."

Suma pouts but allows Makio to pull her off Tengen. Hina then turns to me setting her purple and yellow eyes on my form.

"And you must be Y/N, our future wife."

I laugh unsheathing my sword, "I don't know about that. I'm pretty content on being single, and besides it's too dangerous being a Hashira, let alone a Hashira's lover. I already bear scars of my journey." I finish rolling up my sleeves to reveal some of the scars.

"No more I promise." Tengen states eyeing the scarred skin, "Tonight you come home with us."

"As sweet as that sounds," I giggle getting into a fighting stance, "I've heard that one too many times to believe it."

The upper moon huffs his eyes narrowing at my stubbornness before he shifts into a stance as well. This time I'm the first to attack rushing forward and slashing at Tengen. He of course dodges it. His wives stare at me in shock, not at all expecting that level of speed.

He strikes back and I jump back to avoid his blade. I move to counter him only to be suddenly pounced on from behind. I grunt the arms tightening around my front as I spot Suma's hair on my shoulder.

"Just stop!" She cries while I try to throw her off, "We just want to care and love you!"

Tengen takes this opportunity to charge me but I turn and use his wife as a shield. This causes both him and her to tense, allowing me to pry her hands off me before throwing her at the upper moon. While the two collied into a tree Hina and Makio dashed forward, the two moving in sync. I was able to dodge most of their attacks, but they were able to get a few cuts in. I begin to grow agitated at being on the defensive, summoning two shadow serpents which forces them away.

However just as I started to form a plan of attack I'm kicked from behind. I crash into a tree wincing at the pain that sprouts all over my body. A snarl escapes my lips as my fingers dig into the tree bark before lifting myself up. I once more summon more shadow serpents, launching themselves towards the demons. I move in with them landing a few hits on Tengen and Makio. I ignore the smell of blood as it fills the air continuing my onslaught against the four. However out of the corner of my eye I spot Hina launching at me and in reflex I raise my forearm. I grunt when Hina kicks my forearm forcing me back a few feet. They quickly finish off the rest of the serpents turning to me with fire in their eyes. I sigh twirling my sword before pointing at them.

"Come now this isn't quite fair, is it? A 4 v 1? Not fair at all." I tease shaking my head, "Let's even it out, shall we?" The demons look at me confused as I shift my stance, "Shadow summon second form-shadow clone!"

Tengen's wives take a step back as three humanoids shoot out from the shadows, landing beside me. Their eyes widened when they realized that they were exact clones of themselves. I don't waste any more time, pointing my sword at the group causing the shadows to charge. Tengen meets us halfway attempting to cut down the Hina clone, but it dodges him, and he instead is met with my sword.

"What no longer interested in fighting little ol me?"

"I prefer getting rid of the distractions first."

"Distractions? They're not distractions. They're just allowing us to have our honorable 1v1."

Tengen only huffs in response our swords once more clashing with each other. Just like in our previous battles we once more engage ourselves in a dance of steel, neither one of us willing to give in. His wives attempted to interfere once more, but their clones held them at bay, forcing them back as they copied the demoness' moves. It seemed that the battle was at a standstill, all of us being on equal power levels with our opponents. Although as it continued to draw out

The sun will rise in an hour, the shadows hiss, we must finish this.

I agree just in time to meet Tengen's swords in a deadlock. We push against one another neither one of us budging at the other's strength.

"Just give in!" The demon snarls pushing on our blades, "There's no use! You're ours!"

I only smirk in response, my hand shooting down to the dagger strapped onto my thigh. Tengen shifts towards me due to the loss of strength from the removed limb, giving me a nice opening at his neck. I felt a little bad, sad that our flirtatious, yet entertaining battles were coming to an end, my fingers curling around the handle of the blade, yanking it out of it's sheathe. However, when I swung, I realized something-my body was slowing down, my strike wasn't as quick as it was supposed to be. My reaction times were slower than what they were earlier in the battle. Tengen notices this and smirks jumping away from me.

"Slowing down my lovely wife?"

"N-No." I huff glaring at him.

"Oh really? It doesn't seem that way to me. Your leg is shaking as we speak. Are you feeling unwell perhaps?~"

I don't say anything as blood seeps past my lips, my brows furrowing in confusion at the crimson blood.

"Sadly since we knew you weren't going to surrender without a fight, we had to go about things in a less flashy way."

"What did you do?" I snarl forcing more blood past my lips.

"Our lovely wives' daggers were covered in poison."

My eyes widened in realization. No wonder why I was starting to feel weak. Makio and Hina's cuts earlier were just deep enough for the poison to get into my bloodstream. It was then that my hands begin to shake, my sword dropping from the trembling limbs. It would only be minutes before it fully kicked in. My legs gave in a few seconds later, the upper moon rushing forward and catching me before I could hit the ground. I growl at him, my hand grabbing his shirt.

"U-Unflashy cheater."

"I know my love, but you'll forgive us."

It was then that the shadow clones disappeared, my energy no longer sufficient to keep them here. His wives stare in shock before their eyes find our forms. Tengen grabs one of his swords cutting the palm of his hand before holding it above me.

"Drink." He commands his blood dripping over my closed lips.

I only glare at him, my grip tightening on his arm. He sighs turning to Hina. No words are said but she nods moving closer and grabbing my jaw. She fights my tiring muscles as she attempts to pry my mouth open. I attempt to punch her, but Hina dodges it somehow keeping her grip.

"Makio, Suma, hold her down." Hina states earning a quick nod from the two onlookers.

They do so, rushing over and holding my limbs down. Suma kept trying to reassure me about my new future, claiming that they'd care for me and love me with all their demonic hearts. I didn't have much choice however, my dying muscles finally giving way to Hina's grip. I jerk as the metallic taste overfloods my senses, all of them cooing at me to calm down. In my dying moments I continued to thrash until my eyes closed, fully sealing my fate with them.

[coquetcharms]

𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 | 𝐑.𝐂

Reader is 16

-

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅-𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝑒

Reader’s POV

-

ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ, ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ

I walked into the country club with my friends, we laughed and talked about random things that popped into our head as we went outside and sat at one of the mini tables.

“Oh my god! Did you hear about what happened to her?” my friend Ashley asked, being messy as the rest of them said no and she told them the story.

I wasn't interested in the whole conversation, I sighed put my hand on my cheek, and looked around, my eyes landed on a guy with a buzzed cut who was already staring at me, he smiled at me as I gave him a small one back and looked away.

I must not have been paying attention for a while because they all stood up making me look up at all of them “Where you going?” my soft voice made them all look up “gonna play some golf-” “Try” Gianna cut Rebecca off as she glared at her.

“C'mon “ Gianna grabbed my hand and we left the table and headed to where the leftover golf balls were and found an empty spot to play in.

“We're not even gonna play, all we're gonna do is sit and talk?” I told them making Gianna gasp “We are not-” We are” Rebecca cut Gianna off this time. “We're going to try to play and if we fail at this golf shit then we're going shopping” Gianna giggled and placed golf into one of the stuck things “Ready?” she asked us “No! Are you ready? Ashley asks laughing taking a sip of her drink.

Gianna swung and the golf flew off somewhere “I-...do we get it?” the rest of us shrugged “Hold this” Ashley gave me her drink and she, Gianna and Rebecca ran off to go get it “Stay here so nobody takes our spot” and then they ran off.

I sighed once again, took a sip of her drink, and immediately regretted it “Ew! Shit nasty” I said and continued to look at the spot where their figure had disappeared “They do know they just leave it there, right?” I jumped from the voice and quickly turned around seeing it was the man from early.

“Oh, well their trying to find it now” I smiled at him, and he hummed, it was now silent, “you new here?” he asked now moving more in front of me, i shook my head “No, I don’t come here often “oh so what d’you do?” he asks placing the ball on the mini stick.

I shrugged “Nothing really, I usually stay home on days like this” he swung his golf watching it land wherever it landed, “So..what? You just stay in the house?” he asked now turning around to face me and I nodded “yea” “that's kina sound boring”

I made a face “It's…not really, I don't like going out as much as my friends do” I said slighting now swinging side to side, he didn't say anything but hummed.

“What if I asked you on a date?” he turned to look at me and I titled my head “What do you mean?” I asked and he chuckled low “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he asked “I don’t know you like th-” “Then we can get to know each other”

“How do I know you're not some type of murderer or something” This time he laughed and shocked his head “Nah, I'm not crazy now” he pulled out his phone and handed it to me “Put your number in”

I did what he said and gave him back his phone he eyed me up and down “What's your name?” I asked breaking the silence “Rafe” I nodded “Yours?” “y/n” he smiled at me “I’ll see you later then y/n” he walked away.

-

ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵘⁿ

A few months later, me and Rafe got together, he took me on the date he said he would and we had a good time, right now we were on our way back to his house.

“Why are we going to your house?” I ask turning to face him, and he shrugged “why not?” the Conner of his lip turned upward as awe pulled into his drive way.

He got out of the car and went around and opened my side, I stepped out and looked at his house. He softly grabbed my hand and led me inside.

“Mhmm Rafe” I moaned out as he pounded into me “shit—feel so good doll” he groaned out, he wrapped his hand around my throat making me cling tight around him.

I breathed heavily as I stared at him with a pout on my face with my big eyes staring at him “Rafe…?” His eyes snapped towards me “yea baby?”

“Please don’t leave me” he stared at me before giving me a soft smiled “I won’t leave you angle”

-

ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ

“We can’t keep doing this anymore” he pointed between us “wh-what why?” I quickly ask standing in front of him “because you're younger, I’m older-“ “okay? Rafe I love you and I know you love me too—you-can’t just leave me here”

“I don’t understand I thought you liked me” I shouted at him making him stare at me, he walked up to me and wiping the tear off my check.

“I'm sorry” he mumbled and he pulled me into a hug, I was now sobbing into his chest and my small fist clinging onto his shirt. “You know I can’t make it on my own Rafe”

[faketrex]

a police station in a foreign country for the setting prompts if you're still taking them <3

Thank you, grace! 💝 For prompt number 13, "a police station in a foreign country."

RWRB, firstprince, featuring Henry throwing a punch, Alex scheming, and a fair amount of silliness. Post-canon, pre-bonus chapter.

...

“You can't punch him, you're a prince of fucking England,” Alex hisses.

It pains him to say it, obviously. The asshole standing in front of them has a punchable face–and extremely punch-worthy homophobic, xenophobic, racist opinions. It's not the first time they've had to just stand and listen to this kind of crap, but it never gets any easier.

Hell, Alex might take a swing himself if he didn't know for a fact that it would get him ushered out of England kicking and screaming, cursed to a life of long-distance love, groveling to his mom, and praying that one day, someday, Henry might escape the clutches of the monarchy and join him in the U.S. and–

“A prince,” Henry says mildly, in a tone that Alex has only heard once before, “me? You must be mistaken.”

And he hauls back his fist.

“Fucking–Henry!”

It's a solid punch.

☆☆☆

The less said about the next few hours, the better.

It doesn't really matter that Henry's a prince and Alex is the First Son of the United States. Or, well, it does, but only in the sense that when they're sitting in the police station, butts going numb in uncomfortable plastic chairs, they've got a whole entourage with them. There are three PPOs and two Secret Service officers, and the way Zahra keeps blowing up Alex's phone, she probably counts as present, too.

The chair he's sitting in squeaks obnoxiously when Alex leans over to whisper to Henry. “You know, if we had one more person on our side, we'd be a baseball team.”

“More's the pity that we're in England, not America, I suppose.”

“I don't know. If you were dead set on punching a fuckhead in the face, I think it's good you did it in England. I mean, your family must own all the dungeons here, right? When they lock you away, it'll be like home sweet home.”

Henry lets out a huff. “You realize we're not actually living in the Middle Ages, don't you?”

“Fuck that. If cops today could still use the rack, they would, in a heartbeat. And you can quote me on–”

Two chairs down, Amy clears her throat loudly.

“I mean,” Alex backpedals, “I mean. I sure do love sitting here quietly in a foreign police station and not stirring up shit.”

“Don't we all,” Henry sighs, rubbing at his bruised knuckles.

☆☆☆

The asshole guy–the punchee–says he won't press charges, to which the royal family replies that it will graciously agree to the same. It's a weird response that Alex isn't thinking too hard about tonight. Yeah, the guy had been a shithead, but Henry had been the one to throw hands. Technically, Henry's at fault here, unless–

“Are you like a swan?”

Henry has a cold, wet washcloth covering his face, but his confusion is audible through the fabric. “Pardon?”

“Like, if someone touches the Queen's swans, they're guilty, probably even if the swans were trying to fucking beak them or whatever. So I thought–”

“Alex–”

“Is it the same with you?” Alex twists sideways on the couch, watching as Henry peels the washcloth off his face. “Do you have honorary swan status?”

“I know how you feel about large birds, Alex.”

“This isn't about that!”

“No, I do not have ‘honorary swan status,’” Henry says. “I'm just one of the latest in a long line of unnecessary archaic figureheads who can behave badly and, it seems, get away with it.”

“That dick fucking deserved it.”

“Nevertheless.”

“Where'd you learn to punch like that? Dueling classes at Eton?”

“Boxing club at Oxford, actually.”

“No way. Seriously?”

“I had a crush on an instructor.” Even though he looks exhausted, one corner of Henry's mouth lifts upward. “If I recall correctly, I trained for three or four months before dropping it as a lost cause.”

“Punching people wasn't your cup of tea, huh?”

“Despite appearances otherwise today, no. And anyway, the instructor was hopelessly straight.”

“Lucky for you, I'm not,” Alex says, leaning in to kiss him.

When they break apart, Henry seems sheepish. “I still shouldn't have done it.”

“We can't change that now, but here's the game plan. The next time someone spews toxic, hateful abuse at us, we'll have two options.”

“Option one?”

Alex holds up one finger. “Option one: we leave. Doesn't matter where we are or who we're supposed to be impressing or whatever. If it sucks, hit the bricks, as the internet says.”

“And option two?”

Alex uses the finger he's already holding up to point at his own face. “Option two: I kiss you. It's a classic distraction move. Option two is also valid no matter where we are or who we're supposed to be impressing. Both options mean we won't have to listen to the bullshit.”

“I'm afraid the Queen would hate either. In fact, I'm not sure which would rile her more: our kissing in public or simply… walking away, refusing to be subject to the invective.”

“Exactly. It's a win-win for us on multiple levels.”

The expression on Henry's face is brighter than it has been all day. That, too, is a major win for Alex. “You're truly a force to be reckoned with, love, do you know that?”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, “I'm a one-two punch. But, like, the metaphorical kind. Now come here so I can kiss you again.”