#SOMEONE TAKE THE CAT HE'S SO FUCKING SWEET AND CUTE

[kagedbird]

CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM STOP I CAN'T AFFORD A CAT AND MY ROOMMATE IS ALLERGIC HELP

[allpiesforourown]

To understand how everyone feels about shen yuan you have to think of him as a beloved neighbourhood cat. Everyone loves him. If you can get him to sit next to you for a few minutes, you have the right to tell everyone around while they glare at you in jealousy. If he scratches someone, everyone will agree they must have done something wrong to deserve that, because our cat is so sweet and lovely. If you say you don't like him, everyone hates you because what sick fuck doesn't like cute cats?

So you can imagine when someone (binghe) takes the cat that should belong to everyone and decides its going to be HIS own now. The entire neighbourhood would be up in arms. Shen Yuan is EVERYONES cat and they demand he's let back out so they can occasionally get ten seconds to pet it.

But then something terrible happens: the cat decides it likes binghe and wants to stay inside his house. Even when everyone holds the door wide open and tries to lure him out with treats, he ignores it and jumps onto binghes lap. Everyone is devastated. Their cat CHOSE to be with the guy who stole him away from them.

There's nothing they can do other than randomly barge into the cats new home every now and then, pathetically hoping for a bit of his attention while annoying the cats new owner.

That's shen yuan.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Blind!Reader who accidentally bumped hard into Mafia!Konig, hard enough for to Konig thought it's some punk who wants to pick a fight with him but only to find a cute girlie with a walking stick that sprawled on the floor because of the wall of meat he is (feel free to use the "you hurt your ankle!?" excuse for him to take Blind!Reader for his own)

Konig was ready to kill when he felt someone bump into him. A fucker should be blind not to notice this wall of muscles and bottled anger coming his way - and Konig sure as hell would make them blind if they are dumb enough not to look around when they are walking. His hand goes to grasp his gun - an instinct, in case the fucker wasn't just dumb, but an enemy...and then he hears a whimper. Clacking of a stick falling to the ground. Cute whimpers. Female whimpers. The "oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to bump into you, but they changed the street layout since winter and-" God, you were fucking adorable. Precious. Pretty. Cute. Whimpering like a kitten when he helped you stand up, letting you clutch on his hands as a guiding line. Supported you by your waist while handing you the walking stick - and not letting go of your body even as you were trying to stand up without being wobbly. He knows you're probably fine, you didn't fall that badly, but he grasps for straws in trying to keep you by his side. Apologizes, even, his nervous and anxious self returning for a second as he understands that the situation isn't about possible murder. It's about possibly finding a cute girlfriend. Now, he obviously can't leave you to fend for yourself. Konig doesn't care that you survived on your own and is perfectly fine without him - he also doesn't care that you really hate having him dote over you like you're some helpless creature. He needs you by his side, preferably under him, and the fact you survived for so long on your own actually doesn't say anything - he needs to protect you, even if it means being as overbearing as possible. Even if it means simply picking you up like a lost cat and getting you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass one time before packing you into a dark vehicle. You can calm down by trying to memorize his face through your hands, and he can memorize himself with the curves of your sweet body. God, he is going to enjoy making you his...even if it means locking you up in his mansion so no enemy could use you to get to him.

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)

Dick

He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.

Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.

He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’

Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.

So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.

‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.

‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.

He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.

Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.

You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Damian

Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.

He thinks them childish unfortunately

However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.

He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.

So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.

This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.

Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.

Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.

However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.

He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.

To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.

He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.

Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.

[yuujispinkhair]

Brother (Part 1)

When you start dating Yuuji, you don't know that your sweet sunshine boy has an evil twin who wants to have his brother's girl, too.

Part 2 ++ Halloween Masterlist 2023

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) + Yuuji x Reader Genre: Horror, smut Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, dark content, consensual sex with Yuuji + noncon with Sukuna. Rough sex, degradation, humiliation, getting called slut, whore, cheater. Forced orgasms, pussy spanking, squirting, cumshots. Sukuna isn't a nice guy in this story. Sukuna and Yuuji look completely alike. Sukuna doesn't have his tattoos. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The room is dimly lit, filled with the loud chatter of people and the music playing on the stereo. The small space is filled to the brim, bodies lightly brushing against each other. Someone walks past you, pushing you against the boy standing before you. But you don't mind. You are already wrapped in his strong embrace. Your hands are linked behind his neck, your fingers playing with the short hair of his undercut, and your lips are locked with his in a slow, deep kiss.

You have been dating Yuuji for a month, and things are going great. He is cute, loving, and fun. His kisses are sweet, and his dick makes you feel like you're on cloud nine. He is the most caring guy you ever met.

You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, and Yuuji smiles. That big sunshine smile that made you instantly say yes when he asked you for your phone number. His large hands caress the small of your back through your shirt. His warm, golden eyes meet yours.

"I'll get us something to drink. What do you want, cutie?"

You grin up at Yuuji, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. He is so pretty and so sweet to you.

"A coke would be great. Thank you, baby."

Yuuji pulls you into another tight hug and presses a quick but enthusiastic kiss on your cheek before he leaves for the kitchen.

You decide to head to the bathroom while he is getting your drinks. And so you make your way through the crowded living room and into the hallway, still smiling, still feeling your lips tingle from the sweet kisses Yuuji gave you.

Your hand lands on the door handle to the bathroom when a muscular pair of arms slips around your waist. You look over your shoulder and blink in surprise.

"Yuuji! I thought you wanted to grab something to drink?"

But Yuuji just grins at you, and his large hands land on your hips. Before you can react, his tall, muscular body presses against your back, and he shoves you into the bathroom.

You stumble inside, laughing a bit breathlessly as you turn around to see your boyfriend lock the door behind you.

Your heart is racing, and you chuckle softly. Oh, sweet Yuuji isn't a good boy all the time, huh? You feel a bit embarrassed when you think of the people who must have seen the two of you disappear in the bathroom, but the idea of being in here with your boyfriend while a party is happening right outside the door is exciting.

You cock your head and ask teasingly,

"Couldn't wait until we are back home? I didn't know you were such a naughty boy."

Yuuji turns around to look at you, and your breath catches in your throat. He has the same pretty pink hair as always and the same handsome face, but somehow he seems different. He looks at you with an unveiled hunger and a feral glint in his eyes.

Somehow, the usually so sweet and loving boy looks intimidating. And somehow, it makes your pussy clench.

He walks towards you slowly and gracefully, reminding you of a big cat, a predator, cornering his prey. Instinctively, you try to step back but find yourself unable to do so as your back presses against the sink behind you.

Even Yuuji's voice sounds different. Dangerous, low, and husky.

"Yeah, I want to take you in here and see you struggle to keep your mouth shut when I fuck you."

You gulp. Yuuji has never talked to you like that. Dirty talk, yes, but always in a loving manner. Never like this. What is going on? Is this some kind of kinky roleplay he wants to try?

He has closed the short distance between you now and stops before you, tall and buff. You gulp. Usually, Yuuji's broad and tall figure doesn't feel intimidating. He is such a gentle guy who makes you feel safe. But right now, here in this dimly lit bathroom, you suddenly become frighteningly aware of the power imbalance between you. How tall and big he is, how strong, a body packed with firm muscles. He could do anything with you.

You feel the short hairs on your arms stand up, and your pulse flutters nervously as you look up at him. He is towering over you, tall and strong, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

You draw in a sharp breath when one of his large hands grabs your chin to tilt your head up roughly. For a split second, you look into eyes that should feel familiar but don't. But then his lips capture yours in a hard kiss. You whimper as he pries your lips open forcefully, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth without warning.

This doesn't feel like the two of you are sharing a kiss. It feels like he is taking a kiss from you by force.

Something feels off. This guy who is kissing you doesn't kiss like your sweet sunshine boy, Yuuji. Is he drunk? But no, you were with him until a few minutes ago, and he didn't drink a single drop of alcohol because he has a game tomorrow and needs to be sober.

He pulls away, leaving you stunned and panting heavily.

"Y... Yuuji, what.."

But he already grabs you tightly and turns you around so your front is pressed against the sink, and his tall, buff body is pressing against your back, caging you in.

You look into the mirror, seeking his gaze in the reflection. What you see in the flickering light of the old fluorescent bathroom lamp makes a cold sensation pool in your gut.

The usual sunshine smile, which is so typical for Yuuji, is gone and replaced by a cruel sneer. His usually warm golden eyes fix you with a cold stare, and the lighting in here makes them glow almost red.

Yuuji's large hands are moving over your body now, groping you, squeezing your flesh, and tugging on your clothes, and suddenly, you are filled with a strange fear. This doesn't feel right. You don't like the way Yuuji acts all of a sudden. Almost as if he is a completely different person.

"S...stop! Yuuji, what are you doing?"

"Don't call me that name."

You feel like someone pulled the rug out from under you. Your head is spinning. What is happening? What does he mean?

"W... what?"

He smirks at you in the mirror, and then he starts laughing. But it's not a fun laughter, not the type of laughter that tells you this was all just a stupid joke. It's a cruel, mocking laughter that fills you with dread.

"Oh, you are such a dumb little thing, huh?"

"What do you mean? Yuuji, please, what is going on? Stop it! You are scaring me!"

"Aww, and she still doesn't get it! Stupid little girl. Need me to explain it to you, huh?"

His voice is dripping with fake pity, and his next words make your world flip upside down.

"I'm not Yuuji. I'm Sukuna, his twin."

His lips lift in a triumphant, cruel smirk, and his hold on you tightens, long fingers digging painfully into your flesh.

The room around you seems to spin. In the distance, you hear the muted noises of the party. The bass of the song currently playing in the living room and the chatter of the other party guests. But they all seem to be a hundred miles away. You are all alone here with him. With Sukuna. With that guy who has the same face and body as your sweet boyfriend but who is nothing like him.

Your voice sounds strange to your ears, slurred and too slow. Maybe it's the fear that's making you hear weirdly. Maybe it's the rushing of your own blood in your ears that makes everything sound wrong. What you say sounds stupid even to yourself.

"Yuu...Yuuji never mentioned a brother..."

As if that can help you.

"Oh, I'm not surprised that the brat didn't tell you about me. My family doesn't like talking about me. They like to pretend I don't exist. I am the wrong twin, the evil and unwanted one. You could call me the family curse."

Fear is washing over you, filling your stomach with a tight knot. Your lips tremble as you whisper,

"Please, let go of me."

"Aww, I don't think so, princess. You and I will have some fun now. Yuuji should learn to share his toys. He's not being a very nice brother. Keeping you so selfishly all to himself. But I will take what I want."

Sukuna's hands slip under your shirt, yanking forcefully on it, and finally, your fight or flight response kicks in, and you cry out loudly, throwing your whole body weight against the man behind you, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. Your hands land on his, desperately clawing at them, trying to get them off your body.

But to no avail. Sukuna is too strong for you. He presses his tall, muscular body even tighter against your back, letting you feel the hard bulge in his pants, which sends an even stronger wave of panic over you. His mocking laughter fills your ear as he leans down so his lips brush over your earlobe.

"Yeah, fight back, come on! I like them bratty! Makes me want to break you even more! You make me so hard when you struggle against me!"

His words make you sob fearfully. How could things go so wrong? How did you end up in this situation? Your body is still struggling instinctively against him, trying to get away from him, trying to run.

But you know you cannot escape. Sukuna has trapped you between his buff body and the sink. His large hands are already tearing your clothes off, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it to the floor, yanking down your bra to make your tits spill out, shoving down your pants and panties, exposing you to him and his hungry gaze in the mirror.

"My brother picked a pretty little thing. Let's see how good that pussy is."

Your eyes widen, making you look like a terrified ghost in the flickering light of the dimly lit bathroom.

You can feel Sukuna working on the zipper of his pants while you are frozen in fear. And then his hot, wet cock slips between your thighs. It's all going so fast that you don't even have time to react before you feel his fat cockhead pushing between your pussy lips and rubbing over your hole.

That's the moment when you start screaming.

But a large hand gets pressed on your mouth instantly, muffling your scream and turning it into a pathetic-sounding whine.

"Tsk tsk. If I were you, I'd shut up, brat. What do you think will happen if someone hears you and kicks down the door? Hm?"

He sounds amused by your fear. Amused and turned on.

"I'll tell you since you aren't very smart. They will see me and think I am Yuuji. And then they will say, 'Sorry for disturbing you. We will let you have fun with your girl,' clap me on the back, and leave again. No one will think my sweet, sunshine boy of a brother would ever hurt his pretty little girlfriend. Everyone loves Yuuji. No one will come to save you from him. I can fuck you all I want, and there is nothing you can do."

And with that, Sukuna rams his cock into you, splitting you open forcefully around his fat length. The burn is immense. Tears prick at your eyes, and you scream again, out of pain this time.

When Yuuji fucks you, you feel a slight burn too, anytime he finally pushes his whole thick cock into you. He is a big boy, always filling your pussy so completely. But with Yuuji, it's a good burn, the kind that makes you push needily against him, moaning his name and wanting him to fuck you even deeper. With Yuuji, it is loving and sweet, and you always know he will take the best care of you, making sure to please you.

With Sukuna, it is nothing like that. He is taking you by force, fucking you raw with hard, brutal thrusts while he's growling in your ear like a wild animal. Using you and fucking you as if he is punishing you for choosing his brother and not him.

Hot tears stream down your face, smearing your makeup, and you sob into Sukuna's large hand that is still pressed tightly over your mouth.

You have stopped struggling by now. There is no use anyway. You have resigned yourself to your fate. You know you will not get out of here if he doesn't want it. You will just let him use you, hoping it will be over fast, and he will leave again just as quickly as he came into your life.

You slump against him bonelessly, feeling so helpless and small in his large hands, getting used and fucked, trembling and shaking with every brutal shove of his cock.

The initial pain has lessened, and by now, you only feel the familiar stretch of a fat Itadori cock.

That's the worst thing. You know the feeling of getting fucked with this cock. This is Yuuji's twin...they are identical. Their cocks are exactly the same. You know that thickness, that length, that vein on the underside. You know this cock, that fills your pussy so perfectly as if it was made for you. That cock that always hits the spot that makes you cry with pleasure.

You hate yourself for it, but you are getting wet. Even when Sukuna takes you so brutally and against your will, this cock makes you wet. This cock makes your cunt clench greedily around it as if she is begging him for more, betraying you in the worst way.

And it doesn't go unnoticed by your captor. Sukuna's taunting laugther fills your ears,

"Aww, someone's little pussy is getting wet. You like that, huh? You like getting fucked by me. You cannot hide it when your cunt is drooling all over my cock like that. Naughty little slut likes it rough, huh?"

Sukuna grabs your chin, digging his nails into your skin, and forces you to lift your head so you stare directly into the mirror.

Your scared, wide eyes stare back at you, wide open, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks, your lips grotesquely puckered up by the way Sukuna's hand is pressing your cheeks together. And behind you is he.

The evil twin. The monster that carries the same face as your sweet boyfriend. But he looks nothing like Yuuji right now. His eyes glitter with malice, and his face is contorted in a taunting smirk.

"Watch yourself getting fucked. Look at you, you cheating whore! Cheating on my sweet brother. You get off on that, huh, you little slut? Getting so wet for me. Are you gonna cum on my cock?"

Every taunting word is accompanied by a hard thrust. Sukuna seems to be so feral, so out of control, but the way he fucks you shows you that he is fully in control of his own actions. Everything he does is done purposefully. Every brutal thrust hits the spot, making his fat cockhead torture your sweet spot unrelentingly, making pleasure build deep inside you even while you try everything to fight it.

You don't want to cum for him! You don't want this monster to be able to fuck an orgasm out of you!

"Aww, I can already feel your greedy little pussy tightening around me. You cheating slut are really gonna cum on my cock, huh? Are you gonna cum? Yeah?"

Your pussy twitches wildly, clenching hard on Sukuna's unrelenting cock, coating him in your cream. And he fucks it back into you with his thick length, brutally stuffing you over and over again, his cockhead torturing your g-spot, hammering brutally against it until you can't take it anymore.

You cry loudly into his hand, your body jerking violently as your orgasm crashes over you against your will, fucked out of you by force, and you squirt all over Sukuna's cock and the floor.

You feel so humiliated, so ashamed as your juices run down your legs, and you cannot stop your body from making a mess.

Sukuna basks in your humiliation, taunting you for it, smirking and laughing at you.

"Aww, princess couldn't keep it in, huh? Got fucked so good she squirted. Tell me, are you such a squirter, too, when my brother fucks you? Are you bathing his cock in your juices too? Nah, I think this is your first time making such a mess, huh? Needed a real man to make that pussy cum so much. You are so pathetic. Cumming so fast on my cock. It must really turn you on to get fucked by your boyfriend's brother."

You close your eyes, feeling more hot tears well up, this time out of shame and guilt, while Sukuna pushes his fat cock in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast.

"Open your eyes, slut."

A hard slap lands on your puffy clit, and you scream into Sukuna's hand as your hips buck wildly.

Another cruel chuckle is breathed against your ear.

"You like that, you filthy slut?"

Sukuna laughs, and his hand connects with your clit again, hard and mean, making you howl into his big hand.

A growl is exhaled against your ear, and Sukuna pulls his fat cock out of you almost the whole way before slamming it back into you with a brutal snap of his hips while he spanks your clit again, abusing your sensitive cunt from both sides. With his cock and his hand.

You hoped he would let go of you after he forced an orgasm out of you, but Sukuna isn't finished with you. Another firm slap lands on your clit, making your body convulse uncontrollably, and a loud, broken sob escapes your lips.

"Such sweet sounds you make. You like that, huh? Yeah, I got you, little dumb thing. Gonna slap another one out of that needy little cunt. Come on, beg me, slut!"

He takes his hand off your mouth, laughing at the thick thread of spit and snot that still connects it with your lips. His glittering eyes fix you with a cruel gaze in the mirror.

"I said, beg."

You hiccup, your voice hoarse and full of tears,

"P... Please, Sukuna, please stop."

But he laughs mockingly and shakes his head,

"That's not what I meant. I want you to beg me to fuck you and make you squirt again."

You don't have it in you anymore to fight back or disobey him. Maybe if you do what he says, it will be over soon. But you feel horrible when you open your mouth to say those words.

"Please fuck me..."

"And?"

"P... Please make me squirt again, S...Sukuna."

He pinches your clit, making you gasp.

"Not convincing enough. Try again."

"Pl... please, Sukuna, please let me cum on your cock again! Please fuck me! Please, I... I need your cock so bad! Please let me squirt on it!"

He makes a sound that is a mix between a moan and a chuckle.

"Slut."

You're crying again, but you can't even tell anymore why. Out of shame, out of fear, out of the pain of being so overstimulated, out of pleasure you don't want to feel.

Desperate mewls and sobs leave your trembling lips as Sukuna rubs your clit roughly with two calloused fingers so fast that your hips are jerking wildly. He has absolute power over you. Switching between rubbing rough, fast circles around your puffy clit and spanking it hard with the palm of his hand while he keeps your wet messy hole stuffed with his thick cock, drilling his swollen tip unrelentingly into your sweet spot.

Your pussy is clenching so wildly on him that you cannot hide your arousal from him. And he soaks it up, watching you with hungry eyes in the mirror, with that sadistic smirk on his face, eyes full of smug glee while he taunts you for cumming on him, telling you how bad you are, how naughty for doing this to his poor brother.

You feel like a rag doll in his arms, weak and helpless, head lolling back against his broad shoulders, weakly watching in the dirty bathroom mirror how Sukuna humiliates you. Your legs are shaking, your tits are bouncing sluttily from how hard he is handling you, and your mouth is hanging open in desperate soft mewls, so close to blacking out from exhaustion.

But Sukuna spanks your pussy, firm slap after slap onto your swollen clit, which is already puffy from the overstimulation, making your little abused bud pulse hotly with pain and pleasure until it becomes unbearable. Your breath quickens, coming out in desperate gasps as your pussy tightens around Sukuna again.

And before you know it, you squirt again, onto his cock and his hand, losing all control of your body, unable to stop cumming. Watching in utter shame as Sukuna keeps slapping your clit, making your juices spray everywhere, spanking your pussy until you have given him every last drop.

He laughs, pulling out of you, apparently finally satisfied with the state he fucked you into.

Without his strong body behind you, you can't stay on your feet anymore, and you fall to the floor, where you lie in a crumbled heap. And Sukuna stands over you, one foot on each side of your body. He is so tall, so big, and menacing. But you can't do anything but look up at him dazedly, watching as he fists his fat cock with fast, firm strokes, jerking off over you while he smirks at you.

"Open your mouth, slut."

It doesn't matter anymore. He has already taken everything from you, and so you open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out for him, looking up at Sukuna with tear-stained eyes as you wait for him to finish.

You see his cock twitch in his hand and hear the low groan in the back of his throat. And then his cum shoots out of his fat mushroom tip and rains down on you in milky thick threads. His seed lands on your face and body, hot and thick, desecrating you even more.

But you swallow the part that he shoots into your mouth obediently, sobbing only so slightly as you realize that the brothers even taste the same.

Sukuna crouches down next to you, cupping your cheek and making you turn your head so you have to look up at his sneering face.

"Look at you, such a messy girl, lying in your own squirt and covered with my cum. Now you know who you belong to. My brother can't have you to himself. From now on, you belong to both of us."

Thank you so much for reading my first contribution to my Halloween Special 2023!! Writing evil Sukuna was so much fun!! I hope you liked it!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!

I decided to split this story into two parts because it got too long. In Part 2, we will see more of Yuuji too. I hope to post it next week!

HERE IS PART 2

Halloween Masterlist 2023

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hiiii!! I hope you’re doing amazing! I’m sorry you’re having a bit of writers block at the moment as I know how difficult that can be!! I saw you opened your requests to see if that would help so I figured I would request something!

Maybe Rhea x Reader, where Reader is also a wrestler and her aesthetic is super girly and cute and bubbly (kinda like Tiffany Stratton) and something about it just draws Rhea in. Like she tried to act like she hates it and doesn’t like Reader, but eventually she just can’t and caves to how adorable Reader is and it brings out Rhea’s sweet side! 🩷

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, rhea’s sexual thoughts tho…a lot of fluff and sweet moments, reader being a tease (let’s pretend rhea is still champion here) ‼️

heartbeat

rhea hated when someone tried to take her title away. but she hated even more when you became her main opponent for a title run.

you and the dark haired woman were completely the opposite. you were a face, she was a heel. you wore pink, she wore black. you were kind and loved backstage, she was a menace with anyone who dared to even look into her eyes.

she hated the idea of having to fight with you. she already handled a liv morgan, a tiffany stratton and now she had to face you.

she absolutely despised having you as her main opponent and no matter how many times she tried to resonate with adam, he said that you deserved that title run more than anyone. and she knew it too. she observed you. you were good, you were smart, you worked more on psychological fights than physical fights and for the first time, rhea was afraid.

you and her never really talked outside of the company. she wasn’t in your group and you weren’t in hers.

so the first time you got to share a few words was when you two had a promo and even if rhea looked so intimidating, you were ready for a challenge and you showed her who you really were.

“so you think you can take my title?” she shouted into the mic, staring at you. she looked for something that could have scared you away but she find nothing.

you simply laughed, taking a few steps forward her “i’m damn sure i can” you stated making the crowd cheer.

she was ready to reply back. she was so ready to put you in place but having you so close to her made her freeze. your vanilla scent intoxicating her. your challenging eyes never leaving her face. something about you made her even more interested into this feud. you made her heart beat fast and she couldn’t understand why.

“cat got your tongue, mami?” you teased her, hearing even more chants from the crowd.

“stay out of my way” she said coldly before dropping the mic to the ground and leaving the ring.

as days passed, rhea moved cautiously around you. observing you at the gym, observing the way your body moved inside the ring as you trained. she couldn’t help the filthy thoughts running in her head when she saw the sweat dripping down your body.

watching you fight other opponents and she hated admitting it but she found you extremely attractive. she never imagined herself being attracted by some barbie doll prototype but here she was.

you, flaunting your pink gear, your perfect make up and curled hair, ready to fight liv morgan - once again.

you knew it was going to be an easy match. you fought liv multiple times and you always won but somehow it didn’t go exactly as you planned. sure, you got your win but liv managed to injury you.

rhea watched all the match behind the scenes and a lump form in her throat.

how the heck did liv manage to injury you? she was supposed to keep you safe inside the ring just like you did with her and instead she fucked up and probably costed you a title run.

she should be happy that you weren’t her opponent any longer but she was actually looking for a chance to fight you.

you struggled walking back, helped by some trainers, they let you sit comfortably in the medical area as a doctor checked upon on you.

sprained ankle.

a couple of weeks of no fighting, no training at the gym and no title run opportunity. this was definitely not what you were expecting.

as you slowly walked back to the locker room, you were stopped by the infamous rhea ripley.

“hey…” she greeted you, making you look at her with a confused expression.

“i’m out of your way now, are you happy?” you sarcastically asked her but you saw how serious she was.

“no, not really…i was really looking forward to fight you, can’t believe im stuck again with that mid morgan girl” she said, clearly mad.

her words made you laugh “it won’t be for too long, give me a month to recover and then i’ll happily pin you down the floor” you teased, seeing her blush.

her strong facade fell when you talked dirty to her. she felt her cheeks burn but she tried to keep up with you “i can’t wait for that moment to come then…”

you were absolutely in for whatever rhea was trying to do with you “challenge accepted then, see you in a month” you winked but as soon as you tried to walk again, a sharp pain rang through your foot, making you flinch a little.

“hey, you okay?” rhea immediately asked when she saw the pain expression in your eyes.

“i have to get used to walk with just one foot” you laughed.

“here, let me help you…” her hand softly moved around your hip, helping you back to the locker room so you could gather your belongings and then go straight to the hotel. she walked slowly, never forcing you or your body.

“i didn’t know rhea was a kind one” you joked, making her laugh.

“i’m not. i never liked you y/n…this bubbly energetic person you are, i always hated it…too much pink, too much kindness” she whispered.

“why is it in the past?”

“because somehow your annoying personality caught my attention” she confessed, making you look at her with a teasing face.

“that’s good to keep in mind next time i’m facing you in the ring…” you said making her roll her eyes.

once you got to the locker room, rhea packed all of your stuff. your make up, your clothes, your perfume - the vanilla perfume - and she took the bag over her shoulder.

“do you need a ride to the hotel?” she offered and you couldn’t turn her offer down so you agreed.

as you were settled in her car, you found her to be a comforting presence. maybe she really wasn’t the mean one everyone talked about.

before you could speak, metal songs blasted through the speakers and it took you a couple of minutes to realise that you and rhea couldn’t be more different “do you really listen to that?” you asked, a little confused.

“yeah…it’s amazing” she happily said as she drove.

“it’s giving me a headache” you complained, making her roll her eyes for the second time that night.

“what do you listen uh? let me guess? taylor swift?” she said almost too annoyed.

“hey! she’s a good artist! and no, i listen other people too! i listen to people who actually make music and not scream into a microphone for three minutes straight��� oh you were so in for a tease right now and seeing how she scrunched her nose made you feel like you were hitting the right buttons.

“let’s not start or i’ll drop you here in the middle of the road” she joked, clearly amused by the whole situation. you ended up sitting there and watching her driving fast around town.

she helped you with the bags and only left your hotel room once she made sure that you were okay. she even left you her phone number so you could call her in case something happened - as she said.

a week has passed and you couldn’t even lie to yourself - you were actually enjoying texting rhea and having random conversations in the middle of the night with her. you remember texting her once you got home and asked her if she wanted to come over as you were bored and reluctantly she accepted.

she would be lying to herself but you attracted her. you were like a magnet and she couldn’t get enough of you. she would help you any time you asked her.

randomly going through your tiktok, you heard the bell ringing and without thinking twice, you slowly got up and opened the door, finding an adorable rhea ripley with junk food in one hand and a pink fluffy blanket in the other.

you looked at her for a second, too stunned to speak.

“you letting me in or are we going to stare at each other all day long?” she asked, her usual sarcastic tone lingering with some sneaky jokes too.

“oh sorry, yeah, come in…i wasn’t expecting you with food and a pink blanket…i actually wasn’t expecting you at all” you joked, trying to ease the tension a little bit because you had no idea why was rhea in your living room now.

“i was at the supermarket and i had my day off, i saw the blanket and i thought you would like it…here” she handed you the blanket almost as she was annoyed by it, trying to maintain her dark and mean side but deep down you knew that she was a softie.

you gladly accepted the gift and invited her to sit on the couch with you “what about the food?” you teased her, seeing her rolling her eyes at any remark you made was now a habit.

“i was hungry and i thought you would like some food too…” she tried so hard not to go soft with you but your smile and bubbly personality were making it hard for her.

“rhea ripley thought of me? i feel honoured” you laughed making her giggle.

“shut up and eat while i pick a movie…” she stated as she started swiping movies catalogue on netflix.

she chose something fun, something romantic, knowing that it was your favourite genre of film.

“i’m pretty sure you’re studying me so in two weeks you know how to make me lose against you for the title run” you joked, making her laugh.

“honey, there’s no way you’re gonna beat my ass during that run, that’s my title and my title only but i’ll happily pin you down” she turned her face to you, a sneaky smirk on her face as her mind fantasised about the idea of having to pin you down, under her body.

“you so sure about that ripley?” you tested her “what if i am the one to pin you down?

rhea wouldn’t mind having you over her to be honest. in any other situation she would have let you being in charge but not when there was her title on the line.

“we will see in a couple of weeks” she winked “now watch the movie before i put some freaky horror on” she teased you knowing how much you hated horror movies.

“okay mami” you whispered making her roll her eyes - again. you displayed the pink blanket over your body and over rhea’s body too “before you say anything, it’s cold outside and i don’t wanna hear you complain for the next two hours” but rhea definitely wasn’t going to complain. she never had you so close, your body was like a magnet and was so close to hers that it was enough to keep her warm. your head softly laid over her shoulder and even if you couldn’t see her, you felt her body relax against you.

maybe she was going to pin you in the ring but you knew who was really in charge outside of the company and seeing her so calm and relaxed in your presence made you feel something different about your friendship, as if there was something more but you couldn’t really point it out.

spending the rest of the night in each other’s company, joking and laughing about the smallest things.

as the second movie of the night ended, you really needed to stretch yourself out as you grew a little uncomfortable sitting for almost four hours in the same position. she helped you standing up and you slowly tested the water, instead of putting your hands around her shoulders as you always did, you put them around her waist.

the height difference between you two was pretty obvious but that didn’t stop you to have your way with her “i have a feeling you feel something for me” you teased her watching her in her eyes.

“i don’t know what you are talking about…” she tried so hard to maintain her composure but she was struggling, especially when she had you so close.

“so what if i asked you to kiss me? would you back up?” you always been a tease but this was something else even for you.

“no…” she whispered, her eyes softly looking down at you.

before she could make any move, you kissed her. your lips meeting her soft ones, a smile pressed on her face as you kept kissing her “i’m definitely gonna pin you rhea” you whispered, making her chuckle.

“keep dreaming barbie” as she grew more comfortable, her hand moved behind your back and pressed you against her body “remember, it’s always monday night mami…” her devious look was back as if you helped her gain her confidence back around you.

“you know…i’m always in for a challenge…”

yeah, maybe she was the rhea ripley but you knew how good you were and being able to tease her and make her so flustered around you was definitely a weapon in your sleeve.

“we will see pretty girl…” falling in love with the enemy wasn’t definitely her plan but somehow you managed to make her heart beat faster anytime you were close and now she felt like she couldn’t get enough of you.

————————————-

i’m receiving a few requests and i’m trying to overcome my writer block 🤞🏼🩷 thank you for your patience and kind words 🩷🩷

[darling-flora]

Grapejuice

INSTAGRAM BLURB

fc : christina nadin

(bakerhs94 = harry private instagram)

summary : harry meets a pretty girl in italy who has no clue who he is.

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yn95

Liked by yourbff, friend1 and 21 others

yn95 rome has been lovely

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yourbff except for when some guy spilt your coffee and you almost cried....

↳yn95 i was really looking forward to the coffee... ↳yn95 but he bought me another one so it was fine ↳yourbff and you thought he was cute 😏 ↳yn95 well yes.... ↳yourbff if we see him again you gotta ask for his number ↳yn95 well no.... im too scaredy-cat to do that ↳yourbff2 he'll def ask you, i know it !!

friend1 where was the 5th picture taken ?

↳yn95 It's the garden rooftop bar at the hotel Relais Fontana di Trevi.

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hsdaily

liked by hrryfan11, hrryfan15 and 74,857 others

hsdaily Harry out in rome, italy recently !

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hrryfan3 oh he's home iktr

hrryfan1 did someone take these pics on a flip phone ????

hrryfan5 i met him he was so sweet !!!

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yn95 Close Friends Story

view all story replies

yourbff WHAT DID YOU SAY ????

yn95 I SAID YES ??

yourbff did you get his name...?

yn95 well obviously

yourbff what is it babe ...? yourbff i dont want you getting kidnapped and i dont know his name 🙄

yn95 his name is harry yn95 he's british....

yourbff oooooo very cute yourbff also you live in london babe.... being in italy you were supposed to find an italian man..

yn95 ugh ik but he's cute and was rlly sweet yn95 so im excited 😁

yourbff well good luck babe !!!

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yn95 Story

view all story replies

yourbff flowers cute !!! but b4 you knew what ????

yn95 what he does for a living...

yourbff what is it...? he isn't like a cop or something is he 😔

yn95 he's a singer

yourbff like soundcloud..?

yn95 THATS WHAT I SAID yn95 i literaly said "what like soundcloud?" and he said "no like spotify" and he like giggled

yourbff wait babe... yourbff his name is harry.... yourbff he's british....

yn95 yep yep....

yourbff HE'S HARRY FUCKING STYLES yourbff I WAS NEVER A HARRY GIRL yourbff more of a zayn girl yourbff BUT WTF yourbff OMG

yn95 HE HAD TO LIKE SPELL IT OUT FOR ME yn95 I HAD NO CLUE WHO HE WAS yn95 still really don't yn95 i liked girls b4 i liked boys yn95 so i wasn't into boybands when you were

yourbff ugh ik i really wanted you to be a fan but you couldn't care less yourbff BUT yourbff he likes you obviously or he wouldn't have told you who he was

yn95 he asked me if i wanted to go on another date yn95 that's why he told me who he was so i had like a "get out of jail free card" yn95 because of all the fans and paparazzi yk

yourbff that's sweet, sooooo do you wanna go on a date with him even with all the crazy stuff that could come..?

yn95 yeah... he was so sweet and just easy to be around , i really like him 😇

yourbff awwww babe im glad yourbff ill protect you from any crazy fans 💋

yn95 oh thanks... hope they don't hate me 🙏

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hsdaily

liked by hrryfan11, hrryfan15 and 74,857 others

hsdaily Harry recently followed Y/n's public and private instagram on his private instagram !

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hrryfan15 okay how do we even know thats his private insta

↳hrryfan11 i mean look at the usersame bakerhs94.... ↳hrryfan11 also his friends follow the account so it would be weird for them to follow an impersonator

hrryfan2 oh she's so beautiful, but he is not subtle at all

hrryfan63 maybe he just likes her hair products 😁🤞

hrryfan8 omg i went to college with her wtf

↳hrryfan11 really ??? what's she like ↳hrryfan8 she's truly so sweet, anyone would tell you how nice she was !!

hrryfan15 wait i have some of her products they're really good

hrryfan4 his friends and family follow her too 😭

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yn96

Liked by yourbff, bakerhs94 and 15 others

yn95 a month in italy, now 2 london

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yourbff so glad i came for a few days it was too fun !!!!!!!

↳yn95 im glad too, i missed you!!!

bakerhs94 cutie 😚

↳yn95 says you 😉

gemmastyles the bowl is so cute !?!!??

↳yn95 San Raphael Wild Flower Salad Bowl !!! im buying a set for everyone 😁

friend1 oh what a lucky girl !!!!

mitchrowland not harry hitting the dad pose

↳ bakerhs94 that's just my normal pose....

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bakerhs94

liked by yn95 , mitchrowland and 33 others

bakerhs94 italia 🍇

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mitchrowland ur cute

↳ bakerhs94 no you 😉

gemmastyles gotta meet y/n soon.... facetime isn't enough

↳ bakerhs94 soon i promise 🤞

yn95 no photo creds on the 1st pic ?

↳ bakerhs94 Y/N TOOK THE FIRST PICTURE !!!! ↳yn95 so sassy... ↳ bakerhs94 might have to hire you to take pictures of me ↳yn95 a job taking pictures of you ? i'll do it free of charge 😉 ↳ bakerhs94 i know a few ways of payment ↳pillowpersonpp WHOAAAA get a room

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deuxmoi

liked by hrryfan11, username1 and 374,857 others

deuxmoi Harry Styles seen out in London getting cozy with rumored girlfriend Y/n.

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hrryfan11 in public and he didn't spot the camera....this is crazyyyyy

username1 its y/n l/n she was born in Saudi Arabia to a Filipino mother and Irish British father, she grew up in England 🙂👍

↳hrryfan81 ??? how did you find all that info wtf ↳username1 shes a model.... it's on her model agency's website

hrryfan2 i wanna be her so bad

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hsdaily

liked by hrryfan11, hrryfan15 and 174,857 others

hsdaily Harry and Y/n seen out in London recently !

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hrryfan15 wait they're cute

hrryfan2 he definitely felt the camera so he brought her closer to him 😭

hrryfan63 oh the matching shoes are so cute

hrryfan8 I MET HIM WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER

↳hrryfan11 really ? what were they like..? ↳hrryfan8 they were walking and i turned around and saw it was him and when he noticed he put his arm around her and whispered something and she smiled and stood to the side while i talked with harry. ↳hrryfan8 when harry was going back to her, i waved at her and she waved back and smiled then when they walked past me together she said "have a good day", truly so sweet.

hrryfan15 they're kinda serving parents

hrryfan4 were getting a love album iktr

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yourinstagram

Liked by yourbff, harrystyles and 574,857 others

yourinstagram a day around london🪐

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yourbff who's that behind you in the third picture 🤨

↳yourinstagram no clue 🤭 ↳yourbff she's a pretty gal 😉 ↳yourinstagram oh stappp 😚

friend1 every time i see your face on an ad i take a picture 😁🤞

liked by yourinstagram

hrryfan2 oh we know who took these pics 😪

gemmastyles pretty girl !!!

↳ yourinstagram that's all you 😚🤍

friend3 wow wow wow gorgeous !!!!

liked by yourinstagram

hrryfan5 harry liking and gemma in comments.... oh it's serious

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, hrryfan15 and 8,174,857 others

harrystyles Harry’s House. May 20th.

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hrryfan1 IM NOT READY

hrryfan55 New Harry?!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL 🚨

yourinstagram AHHHHHH !!!! ❤❤

liked by harrystyles

hrryfan5 he knows how to like comments now ???

hrryfan23 OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING IT'S REALLY HAPPENING BESTIES

hrryfan44 AOTY !!!!

hrryfan7 THE TULIPS ????

↳hrryfan11 ???? whats wrong with tulips...? ↳hrryfan7 y/n loves tulips.... ↳hrryfan11 ohhhhh well he obviously loves her so it makes sense 😁

hrryfan9 HOME SWEET HOME !!!!

hrryfan81 screaming crying throwing up

hrryfan20 can't wait

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hsdaily

liked by hrryfan11, hrryfan15 and 174,857 others

hsdaily Harry and Y/n seen in California ahead of harrys Coachella performance !

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hrryfan11 she does NOT wanna be seen lol

↳hrryfan71 at least she's not getting the fame chaser allegations...

hrryfan2 love that they go everywhere together tbh

hrryfan3 they feel like endgame

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hslvrr1

liked by hrryfan11, hrryfan15 and 174,857 others

hslvrr1 harry looking at y/n during coachella...

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hrryfan1 oh to be y/n

hrryfan2 HIM BLOWING A KISS ??? he's actually insane 😵‍💫

hrryfan3 i need a cigarette 🚬

hrryfan4 HIS SMILE 😭😭

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yourinstagram

Liked by yourbff, harrystyles and 974,857 others

yourinstagram ✌ weekends in the valley

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pillowpersonpp loooking good !!!😎

↳yourinstagram 😘

yourbff so much fun !!! 🤭

↳yourinstagram thank you for keeping me company ❤😇

hrryfan1 i feel like this confirms they're dating

↳hrryfan3 well we already knew that

friend1 a weekend to remember !!! 🥳

liked by yourinstagram

hrryfan2 i get it harrystyles shes so pretty

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deuxmoi

liked by hrryfan11, username1 and 374,857 others

deuxmoi Harry Styles seen out on a date in New York with girlfriend Y/n L/n the night before his album Harry’s House is released.

Styles was seen shielding L/n from the camera's as they left; after the pair left, Y/n posted pictures from the date night on her Instagram story.

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ynstylesfan1 they are so hot omg

hrryfan1 need the paps to leave him alone but thank you for these pics because he looks too good 🥵

username1 she's stunning !

hrryfan2 hottest couple out !!!

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, hrryfan15 and 9,174,857 others

harrystyles Harry’s House. Out now.

📷 : yourinstagram

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hrryfan1 PICTURES BY WHO ???

hrryfan2 im gonna be sick these two are so im love 😭

hrryfan3 SHE WAS IN THE STUDIO WHILE HE WAS MAKING IT ???? i need another cigarette 🚬

hrryfan4 at this point whens the wedding ?

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yourinstagram

Liked by yourbff, harrystyles and 5,974,857 others

yourinstagram who knew a month in Italy could change your life.

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harrystyles Love you ❤🪐

↳yourinstagram love you sm !!! 😘

yourbff 📷 by me 🤭

↳yourinstagram ty 😚 ↳harrystyles Thank you 👋

hrryfan1 THE HARD LAUNCH AFTER THE ALBUMS OUT ???

friend1 Happy for you two !!

hrryfan2 his shirt matching her bathing suit is killing me, they're so cute 😭

hrryfan4 "There's never been someone who's so perfect for me" im gonna start sobbing

gemmastyles Glad you two found each other ❤

↳ yourinstagram awww gemma 😪❤

hrryfan3 WHEN IS IT GONNA BE MY TURN ???

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[macfrog]

psyche and cupid | one shot

happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩷

It’s not in his nightstand.

Not hung over the newel post, either.

He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.

You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.

You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.

You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.

The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.

You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.

Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.

The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.

It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.

Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.

His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.

His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.

You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.

Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.

Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give  me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.

Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?

I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.

Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.

On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?

Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.

He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.

It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.

He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.

I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?

He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.

In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.

You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.

What about your holster?

He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.

February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.

Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.

I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.

It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.

Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.

It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.

Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?

He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?

He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.

There’s a lot about Joel you admire.

Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.

Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.

He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.

Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.

Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.

He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.

It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.

And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.

The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.

A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.

Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.

It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.

Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.

The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.

Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –

The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…

The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.

Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.

It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.

Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.

You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.

But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.

It…stirs something.

You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.

Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.

Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?

A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.

Yeah.

Stirs something, alright.

Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.

You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.

A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.

Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.

And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.

The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.

Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.

Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.

The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.

All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.

He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.

But he’s here now, at least.

He’s home.

As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.

The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.

Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?

Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.

And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.

You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.

So where the fuck are you?

Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?

Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.

A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.

You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.

Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.

Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.

You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.

Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–

His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.

He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.

His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.

A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.

Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.

And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.

A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.

He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.

Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.

Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.

Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.

With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.

Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?

A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.

Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.

You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.

Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.

When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.

Joel nods. Off.

He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.

Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.

It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.

But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.

He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.

You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.

I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.

Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.

Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.

Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.

He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.

But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.

And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.

So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.

You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.

J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.

The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.

You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.

You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.

There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.

Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.

As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.

He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.

And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.

Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.

Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.

And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.

You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –

Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –

You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –

Shit.

Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –

Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.

It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.

No.

It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.

And it makes Joel come. Hard.

Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.

He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.

Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.

His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.

But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.

You’re awake.

Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.

Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?

I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.

Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?

It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.

The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.

He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.

With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?

Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.

He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.

You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.

You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.

Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?

He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.

Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.

[jobean12-blog]

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”  

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll…stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[pokegalla]

Requested/trade by @veiled-rebel

First ever Hazbin hotel headcanons lets gooooo✨

How Touchy Can They Be In Public With Slightly Large Chested S/o!

Angel Dust:

* ……..ok yes he’s a pornstar so obviously he could care less. All of hell watches his videos. Him doing something promiscuous as grabbing some booba ain’t really a surprise-

* Doesn’t mean he’s going do it without making sure you’re actually comfortable with it though! If not, he’ll never do it again (he’ll make excuses but we all know he’s a softie-). But if you are comfortable? Good luck. He’ll hug you from behind a lot and give a biiiiig squeeze- hell he’ll let you lay your head in his own fluffy booba! It’s only fair✨ (your nickname is definitely now sugar tits and you cannot go against that)

* In private he’s actually a LOT cuter. He loves nuzzling in your chest and giving it so many smooches. He just finds you so cute and he doesn’t hold back on his flirts. But surprisingly they are much more sweeter! “Awww la Mia dolce metà is blushing agaaain~ Am I making yah that excited~?” He laughs when you blush more.

* Ooooooo but now you wanna be wearing a boob window?! Oh you HAVE to be teasing him baby~✨ and he is not above taking you to the nearest hotel for a little….detour~

* Hey you dated a pornstar pal. You kinda should have expected this! But hey….you’re also the only one who gets to see his soft side too.

Mini story time!!!

Man you were fucking bored. Which is ironic considering how hectic hell can be. But what could you do right? You sinned and now you’re in this shithole, rotting away year by year…..oh? You felt someone hug you from behind. And that familiar squeeze that made you blush-

“ANGEL-“ the yelp made your lover laugh.

“Got yah sugartits! Next time get yah head out of yah ass! Unless it’s on mine sweetheart~” he winked at you and laughed when you got flustered.

But….you take one of his hands and it made him smile. Genuinely smile. Well….Hell may be a shithole.

But at least you’re not alone in it❤️

Husk:

* Eh honestly he’s more of a gentleman here. So not as touchy. Little to none actually.

* But he does get a little more protective. I mean it is hell, perverts and assholes come in by a dozen. He’ll snarl at anyone getting a little too close or have a spare jacket just to drape over your shoulders. Quite a sweet gesture coming from the grump himself✨

* In private he surprisingly is still hesitant to even look there as he thinks it’s rude. You have a face don’tcha? He prefers looking there. But if you tell him it’s perfectly fine and lay him on your chest? He will stay right there because he is a blushing mess. Might earn a few purrs if you give him head scritchies✨

* Now despite being a gentleman, he knows when you wanna dress up for him. So wearing a boob window will have him peeking more….and he might actually mention it! “Looking good. Dressed up for a special occasion?” But he’d have a little mischievous smirk. Oh trust me. You are definitely having a special occasion tonight now~

* He may be a grumpy cat, he’s still a softie at heart. And only you know best.

Mini story time!!!

Yeah maybe wearing this top to the club was a terrible idea. So many creeps and assorted assholes were everywhere and they couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t you just walk around without someone staring at you like a piece of meat….? But that’s when you felt someone wrap a jacket around your shoulders before leading you out of the club.

“Husk….? What are you…?” You were shocked to say the least.

“I told yah NOT tah go to this club. Lotta bad eggs in there….” He grumbles as he kept you close to himself.

You were surprised he came at all….you sigh and lean against his shoulder, making him stiffen but sigh, rubbing your back comfortingly.

At least you have him around ❤️

[avocado-writing]

Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗

Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓

possibly based on real life events.

Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 

In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 

“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.

You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.

“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”

Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 

You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 

Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 

They are really fucking good though. 

He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 

And then he hears sobbing. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…

…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 

“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”

“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 

He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 

To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 

“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 

“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆THINKING ABOUT...

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, gore, delusional!sanemi, nemi is utterly smitten, explicit smut, oral (m + f receiving), death, MDNI.

Pairings: Yandere!Reversed Isekai’d! Sanemi x F!reader

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 got reversed isekai’d on your world due to a blood demon art of a random demon, and he ended up being on a mental asylum because they thought that he was crazy, ‘cause he’s babblin’ about demons and shit, while the other reason that he was on the mental asylum was because he was constantly harassing random people, demanding that they tell him where he was and why the fuck the streets and buildings looks different, not knowing that he’s not in his real world where demons actually existed.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 eventually found himself strapped into a straightjacket in a room because he was just too much of a wild card — violent and strong enough that the capture team couldn’t actually lay a finger on him. They had to resort to using a tranquilizer, and let me tell you, it was like trying to hit a bullseye on a moving target—his dodging skills and reflexes were nothing short of insane.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 shot you a death glare the moment he laid eyes on you, as if he was ready to unleash a tirade demanding his freedom and insisting that he wasn’t insane — if only that pesky gag hadn’t been in the way. They had to inject him full of sedative drugs just to get the gag off without him screaming at you like a banshee. But once the meds kicked in, he suddenly seemed to appreciate your finer features and actually thought you were cute—though to be fair, that could just be the drugs talking.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 was just staring at you, as if Cupid himself had taken a wrong turn and accidentally shot him right in the heart. The instant they yanked that gag off him, his mouth hung open like a goldfish, and his eyes were stretched wide. Because what the fuck, why the hell are you so gorgeous? Now he randomly and suddenly felt the urge to be shy, because what the fuck was he thinking on wanting to scream at such a pretty girl?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 was blushing like a ripe tomato the whole time he was talking to you, your voice was like a sultry serenade that could charm a grumpy cat and had a calming effect on his frenzied mind, and the way you carried yourself with the grace of a swan? Yeah, good luck getting that guy to focus on anything other than the fact that he’s already head over heels even though he just met you

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 gets addicted by your presence, you were just so sweet and kind to him, unlike the other staff who would look at him in disgust and think of him as someone insane. He loves the way that you actually talk to him like he was an actual human being, and not some brute animal.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 blushes whenever you would bring him food — the food in the asylum was too bland after all, though, he never really tasted these foods back then, he still ate them, and he trusted you enough to know that you won’t poison him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 loves the fact that you have to hand-feed him, because he’s wearing the straightjacket, and as much as it annoys him, it has its own perks! You were his caretaker and his psychologist, so you would have to do stuff for him, like brush his hair, and feed him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 is absolutely very delusional. After all, why would you take care of him and look at him that way when you don’t like him? Surely you’re just giving him signs that you like him back, right, right, right?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 tried his best to not hug you the moment he was freed from his straightjacket because you deemed him to be not that violent anymore — though, he was a bit disappointed because he has to do things by himself now.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would often ask you questions about yourself, and take note of them — he would watch you yap and he would memorize every words that you said — that’s just how much of a simp he is.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 is a curious little creature, examining every single item you owned as if he were an art critic at a museum. Your phone and laptop, your earbuds — he treated them like rare archaeological finds, and the moment that you snapped a picture of the two of you, his instincts kicked in — He smashed your phone in the ground, because In his mind, it was a moment of sheer panic because apparently, you both had been duplicated and he was now facing his doppelgänger — and he thought that it was a blood demon art too.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 was sulking the moment that you started scolding him for what he did, but he just can’t help it, sanemi was worried that it might be a blood demon art!! He wants to keep his pretty lil psychologist safe after all. He tried to make it up to you by being a good lil patient, and somehow, someway, he ended up managing to get into your pants — tellin’ you that he could just make it up to you by pleasing you.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself on his knees and in between your legs, hands grasping your hips, while his tongue laps at your dripping cunt, his skilled tongue circling your clit while his long fingers sink deep inside you. He hits all your sweet spots—you're certain he's some kind of cunt whisperer.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 loves the feeling of your praises as your soft lips wrap around his cock. The way that you look up at him throughогut, those desperate, adoring eyes, sending shivers down his spine and making his breath catch in his throat. He loves the way that your warm, wet mouth slides up and down his length — the sensation is so damnnnn good, he could almost cum just from that alone, not to mention, he has a real bad praise kink, want him to cum fast? Just give him some praises and tell him that he’s a good boy.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 thought that you two had something special, because of the usual ‘hooking up’ thingy, and he actually started to like bein’ in the asylum, so he started to assume that you two might be together, after all, why are you fucking him when you’re not even together? Surely you two must be together after all that session, right?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 started to get violent thoughts whenever he would see you talking to other people. Why the fuck are you talking to them? Aren’t you supposed to be talking to him only? Your focus must be on him at all time, you’re his psychologist and not theirs after all.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 founds himself increasingly anxious the moment that you stopped going to the asylum to do your daily meetings. Where the fuck did you go? Did you ditched him? And left him?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 broke out of the asylum and ended up killing a lot of people with his bare hands, demanding that they tell you where you are.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ended up massacring the whole asylum, the guards? Yeah, he easily managed to overpower them, he is the wind hashira after all. He ended up knowing where you live when he was threatening a nurse before killing her off, because why did the nurse knew where you live? Surely, she must’ve been inlove with you, right? Yeah, he is totally delusional for his own good.

You sat in the dim light of the kitchen, your chair creaking softly beneath you as you leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, eyes fixated on the scattered notes that sprawled across the surface like fallen leaves after a storm. Each piece of paper held fragments of thoughts, scribbled words that felt like puzzle pieces yet to fit together.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sanemi was telling the truth—or at least his version of it. His words had a narrative so intricate, so unsettlingly detailed, that doubt began to gnaw at the edges of your sanity. The way he spoke about demons, with intense fervor and a wild look in his eyes, left you questioning stuff.

You sighed heavily, your fingers threading through your hair, tugging gently as if trying to pull the chaotic thoughts from your mind. How could someone be so unwaveringly serious about something as fantastical as demons? The notion seemed ludicrous, yet the fire in his glare spoke volumes about his conviction

Just as you were lost in the morass of thoughts, the tranquility of the moment shattered like glass. A loud crash reverberated through the air, a violent jolt that made your heart race and your breath hitch in your throat.

“Not now, please, not now.. damn it...” you murmured under your breath, a chill creeping up your spine as instinct took over.

Was it a thief?

Was someone trying to invade your house? Anxiety tightened its grip around your chest, making it hard to think. Your brows knitted together in a tight frown, and without a second thought, you rose from your seat, ready to call the police.

But as you took a step toward the hallway, the kitchen door burst open with an ear-shattering crash, splintering the wood like it was nothing more than a brittle cookie.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the figure lurching into view, amplifying the dread spiraling through your chest. Your heart thumped in your ears, each beat resounding like a warning drum as a chill swept through you, coiling cold fingers around your spine.

“Are you trying to fucking abandon me?” The voice was low, gravelly, sounding like it had scraped against something sharp. Sanemi stepped into the light, his fierce glare locking in your figure, and your eyes widened at the sight of him. He was a mess, blood splattered across his face, glistening under the dim glow of the flickering lanterns.

“Wh-what the—” Your words stumbled out, a jumbled array of shock and confusion that barely formed a coherent thought. Fear settled like a stone in the pit of your stomach, the memories flooding back — taunts and warnings from those who spoke of Sanemi, of how he’d beaten people up and how insane he truly was. You swallowed hard, battling the urge to recoil.

What the fuck was he doing here

no, no how the hell did he even managed to find out where you live?

How the hell did he escaped?

“Sanemi— what the hell—” Panic twisted your tongue, and you could barely manage to piece together a sentence. His presence enveloped you, a storm threatening to sweep you away. You felt the pulse of fear course through your veins, leaving you tongue-tied

“What did you think you were doing, huh?” he demanded, stepping closer, the intensity of his gaze sharpening into something almost accusatory. “Leaving me behind like that? You really think you could just walk away? It doesn’t work that way.”

“You promised me that you’ll stay until you managed to prove that i’m not schizophrenic.” He continued,

“Doc, i think i’m really schizophrenic, you still have to prove that i’m not.”

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐖𝐀��𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃

𝐀/𝐍: chat, watch me make this bullshit a whole ass book on Wattpad after i finish on doing limerence. ugh i’m so feral for soft!nemiii, he’s just so fucking hot aghhh, i should be focusing on my books n not be makin smuts for nemi💀💀💀

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.

Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.

You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 

You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 

König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 

You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 

He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 

He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 

— I don’t want to kill you. 

You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 

— Are you going to rape me? 

He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 

— Nein. Thought I told you already. 

— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 

He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 

Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 

Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 

Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 

— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 

You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 

— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 

— I won’t kill you. 

— But you will hurt me. 

— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 

No, he doesn’t. 

But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 

König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 

— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 

You refuse.

A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 

Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.

König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 

He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 

You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 

You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 

— I…I did. 

He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 

You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 

His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 

He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 

König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 

— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 

— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 

— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 

— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?

He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 

Speaking of legos…

You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 

Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.

Bu building this insane set with him, that is.

[bunnys-kisses]

my little mechanic

torger "toto" wolff

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), possessive old man toto, pretty young thing reader, missionary, breeding/pregnancy, merchanic!reader, hickies/bruises,

bunny says: i have no words, no apologies. (it is my birthday so you can't get mad!)

well weren't you just the cutest little mechanic for mercedes. in your coveralls and backwards hat as you quickly changed tires in the middle of a race or work on them after the race.

you were always running around, lifting all matter of objects around from point a to point b. it made it quite hard for toto to really get a good look at you.

the first time you formally met you were standing in the paddock, with your hands on your hips and your foot nervously tapping. your forehead was scrunched up.

you weren't even looking at him when he spoke to you. you said, "yes, uh-huh. listen, i need to find some parts." then you looked up at him and your mouth went agape, "oh, mister wolff! i'm so sorry!!"

your expression melted into something much cuter. it made toto smile as he said, "well it's good to know you are dedicated to making this team run efficiently." then held out his hand.

you shook it eagerly and he smiled at you. he was going to have to keep an eye on you, little one.

-

it wasn't hard to get you into his life. he seemed to linger around a little more, his hand often grazed your lower back. he leaned in when he was listening to you. anytime you thought about the crush you were developing for him, it made you cover your face in shame.

you couldn't be with someone in upper management!

but toto didn't care, the thought never crossed his mind. who were they to judge? you'd make a great wife and mother, with the amount of strength you carried with you, you could easily care for his kleine kinder.

but no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from him for the sake of your career, toto saw it as an opportunity to get closer. to corner you before he struck.

the first time he kissed you, he had you backed up against one of the cars. no one else was around and he leaned in to press a sweet kiss against you. later that night you'd end up in bed with him, your pussy getting fucked out by a man two times your age.

he promised that he wore a condom, "don't want to cut your career short there, kleiner."

your life soon turned into a sort of routine. you always started in a new city and country for the race, you did your checks then you went back to the hotel with toto.

you tried to be quickly about shuffling in and out of cars for the sake of what people would say. but not toto, he was almost gleeful that he got to walk around the paddock with his little mechanic.

the size gap between you two was rather large. he almost overshadowed you. he seemed to always take charge in that way, you were kept safe in his shadow. you could hold onto him and he'd never let you go.

"you are so beautiful." he said as kissed from your wrist to your shoulder then took you in his arms. nose dipped into the crook of your neck, "smell good too."

you chuckled, "yeah, i used your things. i knew you wouldn't like the smell of grease and sweat." you combed your fingers through his dark hair.

"mmm, not if it's you. i think you smell good all the time." he swayed you from side to side and your heart raced, "you did so good today, mein kleiner mechaniker."

my little mechanic.

you led him to the bed. he watched you slowly take off your casual clothes, he particularly enjoyed the mismatched pair of bra and panties. that was very cute. pink sports bra with cat printed underwear.

he placed both hands on our ass and brushed his clothed cock against your front, "mmm, looks good." he chuckled before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

your core throbbed as you kissed him. his face in your hands as he grabbed your ass, the fleshed over spilled in his hands as he massaged the cheeks. you felt so good.

when you pulled away, you started to undo his belt.

"you like that, little one?" he asked as he watched you get the expensive leather belt off from around his waist.

your heart was in your throat as you worked on getting the crisp white button up off his shoulders, exposing his toned body to you. this man really didn't look like he was old enough to be your father. there were lines in his face and a crinkle when he smiled. but he still took care of himself, and had the stamina like a machine.

you stood in front of him, almost naked. he took your bra off and then leaned down to pull your underwear down your thighs. he kissed the top of your pussy and you made a small noise.

"always so sensitive." he remarked as you stepped out of the underwear. he tossed it away to be (hopefully) found later. once you were both naked, toto felt the possessiveness rise up in his gut.

he leaned in and asked, "has anyone else touched you since me?"

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself up against him. you pouted at him and shook your head. no one else, only him.

he cupped your behind and kissed the shell of your ear, "good girl." then took you by the hand and got you into bed, "i don't want anyone else touching my braves mädchen." his lips against your heated skin made you feel great.

you wrapped your legs around his as you made out with him. your nails dug into his back. he loved when those blunt nails of yours dug into his back.

he also loved that you weren't supermodel thin. sure the ladies were lovely, but there was a strength to you. toto knew that he could be a little rougher with his angel because you had your fair shares of bruises already.

you held onto him tightly and made out with deeply as you felt the stutter in your core from the anticipation of having sex with him. you could feel his leaky cock up against your thigh, it was fully hard and precum dribbled out of it like a leaky tap.

"please, toto." you mumbled with your lips close to him. you felt so hot all over, it combed through you like an excited rush. he still smell like the cologne he wore all day.

his grip was strong as he almost slid his cock into you with ease. you could feel the twist in your gut from the excitement. the kisses got heavier as his large hands massaged your breasts.

his calloused fingers grabbed the flesh, his rough palms were scratchy against your nipples which made you tense up. the noise you made was a dragged out moan that only made your lover excited.

"if your little mechanics saw you right now." he chuckled with lust in his tone, "they saw you under me, i wonder if they'd watch me fuck you. they are in their cheap shared hotel rooms, while you get the top floor and the big bed. i wonder if they'd be jealous of my special attention."

you whined and arched your back a little, "you bastard, stop talking about my co-workers!" you scratched more lines into his back which only made the older man more excited.

"are what's wrong, mein kleiner mechaniker? you don't like to talk about work in the bedroom?" there was a teasing edge to his voice as he kept the tip of his cock right up against your pussy lips.

"i only want to think about you." you whined, "not the stupid cars or the stupider drivers who make my life hell!" you back arched once more with need. you wanted to FUCK, not have him ramble about formula one!

he laughed before he kissed you at the line of your jaw, "that's what i like to hear. maybe you should just stay with me and never think about work again?"

he had more than enough money to fund your little escape from the workforce. you saw the headline in the break room that he was making over sixteen million euros a year.

"what if you get bored of me?" you asked.

he kissed along our jaw once more, "no, no. i could never. i could never abandon the mother of my children, the wife i hold so dear. you were made for me, i would've waited a lifetime for you." he got out of your octopus grasp and grabbed a pillow nearby to put under your hips.

"please, toto." you said softly, the heat was heavy in your cheeks as you watched him get between your legs. he was divine, a perfect man for you. usually it would be a little suspicious for such an older man to go after a mechanic like you, but as your stomach did somersaults you pushed the thoughts into the back of your mind.

"i know, i know." he purred as he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. he watched your facial expressions as he sank himself into you. it felt amazing.

you were tight enough around him that it almost took the wind out of his chest, but he still managed to fit all seven and a half inches inside of you. he held onto you by the middle and started to pull you up and down his cock.

you held onto the pillow behind your head for some leverage as your lover used your body to his satisfaction. but don't worry, his little mechanic doesn't go without.

he continued to move you up and down his cock. sweat on his back and in his hairline as he rocked his cock up inside of you. it was nestled between your legs, where it belonged.

his beautiful little mechanic. there were better things for you to be doing than running around with car parts. instead of greasy coveralls, he pictured you in a cute sundress and instead of hauling your bag of tools, you had a lovely diaper bag. and instead of cars you were chasing, you were trying to make sure you firstborn with toto wasn't walking off too far.

"i want you." he said, "i want you for the rest of my days. i want you to have my children." call him a possessive old man for wanting to knock up someone young enough to be his daughter. but he believed you were more than capable to make your own choices! you were a mechanic, they don't give out those licenses to anyone.

smart, reliable and perfect to be his little wife. he liked when they were smaller than him, and there was almost a foot difference between you two.

his cock twitched inside of you at the thought of you being perfect at carrying his large babies. he'd make sure you were okay, anything for his beautiful girl.

the thrusts became faster as you felt his cock nudge against the back of your pussy. you felt full of him and it made the room fall into a haze. the heat between you two are palpable.

"toto."

"i got you, my little one. just let me fuck you." his voice was low as he watched you squirm a little under his touch. you kept your legs wrapped around him as he moved against you.

his hands felt comfortable at your middle, the soft skin against his fingers. he felt a swell of pride that he was fucking the most perfect woman in the world. a real world aphrodite.

you moaned and whimpered while he panted heavily against your skin. you both rutted together like animals and you felt the weight of his cock deep in your pussy. you wanted to bite in his strong shoulder, mark him.

but, if you marked him. he'd mark you return.

his cock bullied your insides, you whimpered and whined like a good little slut. who would've known the most stubborn mechanic would make for such a good little fuck toy?

"beautiful." he groaned. he loved the feeling of your wet pussy as he continued to fuck you. you were his perfect little girl, his future wife. god, the thought of you getting married to him felt like a dream come true.

he felt up your breasts once more, played with your nipples a little rougher than normal. he wanted to see if he could leave a few bruises on the beautiful skin.

you whimpered, "toto! ah! that hurts!"

he chuckled before he kissed your warm cheek, "no pain, no gain. plus, i like when i see your bruises from our fucking." his kisses lingered, "i like when you look like mine."

as if the chubby wolff brat you'd be carrying for nine months wasn't enough of a mark on you.

"then can i leave them on you?" you asked, your voice was out of breath from the hard fucking.

he chuckled and kissed you delicately, a far cry from the pace he was using. he replied, "of course, you carry my mark, i carry yours. it's only fair."

then you bit in his shoulder, your sucked on the bruise to leave is dark. the pace between you two started to stagger, the orgasm bliss was flooding your head as you headed towards orgasm.

the thump of your heart in your chest only intensified when he grabbed onto you a little tighter. with a few more heavy strokes of his cock, you climaxed. you gripped onto his shoulders and pressed a searing kiss on his collarbone as you felt the height of your orgasmic bliss!

this only drove toto further as he practically had you bent in half so he could bully his cock in your sweet cunt. time seemed to melt away, but the heightened feeling in his body remained. with a loud groan and a tenseness in his jaw, he finished inside of you.

"lovely girl." he purred as he started to slow down, eventually stopping. it briefly aroused him that his cum was shot into the back of your womb. you'd keep it safe.

he pulled out and pulled you into a hot kiss as he laid beside you. you got nestled under the covers and let your lover roam his large hands around you soft body.

"perfekt, mein kleiner mechaniker."

it wouldn't take much for you to retire before the career even really started. toto simply told you that you couldn't lifting all that heavy equipment when you were pregnant with his child.

the sight of you in your coveralls with you belly poking out was a very sweet idea. the last day you wore them, he had a sneaking suspicion that you were already carrying his brood. because you jumped back when he placed a large hand on your middle.

"you'll fill them out nicely." he joked before he kissed you on the temple. you just had to stay home with his children, be the wife he knew you could be. and at your age there were many chances for there to be a many children in your future.

by the end of the following year, you were with your toto. you were excited to see your old teammates, but this time you had a little surprise for them. you had traded your messy coveralls to a cute sundress with printed daisies on it.

you smiled when you saw them and toto rubbed your lower back. he had to keep you close by, you were almost at the third trimester of your pregnancy. you needed to be careful.

you smiled up at your husband and leaned in for a soft kiss. you'll teach your kids all about engines and car parts when they get older. you were a better fit as mrs. wolff than as any mechanic.

[prettyboykatsuki]

lock and key | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + gender neutral reader, dom!reader, sub!sakura, ejaculation management, so much dirty talk, praise kink, cumming untouched, nipple play / teasing, established relationships, aged-up characters, 18+

✮ wc ; 3.6k (??)

✮ a/n ; my melatonin is begging me to sleep and im too busy thinking about this guys dick. fuck man whatever.

On the rooftop of Furin, among flower-beds and tomato plants - Sakura asks you to be his with a less than confident pout and a single rose.  

It is stupidly corny and so sincere it borders on funny. You’re a little surprised by it given the nature of your relationship. You’ve been friends since he came into town three years ago - dancing around unrequited feelings for about two years, and recently landed on mutual feelings after someone gave Sakura spiked punch at one of Umemiya’s gatherings.  

He is characteristically clumsy in asking you. He spends the first half of your conversation getting pissed about nothing before you ask him what he wants, all smiles, and he loses his cool all over again. You fall in love with him a little more when he has to avert his eyes to get the words out. He has so many nervous tics. A hand on the back of his neck, chewing the inside of his lip.  

The most noticeable part of his confession is just how red he is the entire time. His shirt is a little loose, and when he ducks his head down - you can see perfectly along the curve of back and he’s blushing. It’s so cute, so stupidly endearing - you completely lose track of what’s happening around you.  

You manage to accept the confession. Sakura gains the courage to kiss you but he’s shaking the whole time, and it’s so cute to see how much he fumbles despite having known you for years.  

It’s a good memory, and it leaves a strong impression - and it’s no doubt the start of your desire to warp your boyfriends body to your desires so strongly.  

__  

Sakura blushes easily.  

Too easily. 

For as long as you’ve been friends, he’s never been able to kick the habit. You’d almost think he was allergic to sincerity given how much he reacts to even the faintest presence of it. It doesn’t matter where that sincerity is directed—though it’s much worse when it’s for him—it’s just something he’s conscious of generally. It’s to the point where it’s a running joke amongst the friend group, though never to his face.  

He suffers enough with so little teasing, no one really has the heart to go further. And even without being teased, Sakura is super reactive. Like a cat hissing or electricity bubbling through water - pure danger at the lightest brush or sensation. Be it romance, or friendship, or the vaugest compliment. Sakura will blush and squirm for any reason at all, really. 

In a way, you think that’d take away from the novelty of it but it hasn’t. Every time Sakura breaks out into a faint blush, you feel your heart squeeze tight in your chest.  

It’s hard not to bully Sakura when he makes it so unbelievably easy. And looks so cute when you do it.  

You do your best to curb your desires at first because Sakura tries hard to look cool in front of you. Towards the beginning of your relationship, he seemed especially determined to be more boyfriend-like towards you. You’re sure that’s tangentially related to how you two started as friends and how terribly self-aware he is of it all the time. You already know each other well, but the step-up from friend to partner is just a little bit too steep for him to climb easily. This manifests in the most try-hard version of Sakura you’ve ever known in your life, and it’s very sweet.  

It is, really.  

Too sweet. Too cute. It does nothing but pour gasoline on the sexual desire and mild fetish you’ve developed for your boyfriends easily embarrassed personality. It worsens it so much it’s a little shocking to you.  

Maybe you’ve always had that kind of inclination, but Sakura takes what was once just a passing thought and blooms into full blown sexual fantasy with no effort at all.  

You plan on keeping it to yourself at first, because you’re pretty sure you’d scare him off if you brought it up too soon. 

The first time you make out with Sakura though, after you start dating - he cums in his pants after a little kissing and grinding. Not that abnormal for a virgin you think. What is, however, abnormal - is what actually ends up pushing him over the edge and making him cum so quickly: praise. 

It was like feeling time slow down. You’d whispered in his ear that he felt good - that he was kissing you in a way that felt good. On the next breath, he bucked his hips up against the seam of his pants and made a mess in his jeans. Whimpered in your ear like a whining cat in heat, with no self-awareness until after the fact. His cum was warm against your clothed crotch as he rode his high - breathless and stupid. Not a thought behind his eyes for a few seconds until he could collect himself enough to be ashamed.  

Sakura having a praise kink is so obvious when you think about it, it’s a little laughable. But to know the extent of it made your desires towards him all that much stronger.  

It gave you the confidence to proceed in trying to change his body and make it a little more sensitive. Not being able to stop think about it made you want to push the boundaries, which is why you end up asking Sakura to let you take the reigns.  

Of course he doesn’t want to agree at first. It’s a hit to his pride you’re sure.  

But with a little more coaxing, he agrees to let you do as you please and hear you out on whatever weird thing you seem so interested in doing. He’s weak to your pouting, even weaker to pleasure - so fine, if you want to do something weird to him, he’ll let you.  

Permission was all you needed.  

__  

You start slowly.  

The first time you see Sakura again after agreeing on letting you lead, he can barely stand to be in the same room as you. He decides to let you come over to his apartment instead of going over to yours. You spend the whole day together having an at-home date that ends up being more cooking and watching movies on a laptop together than anything else.  

Night falls when Sakura eventually signals his desire for intimacy after he spent the day escaping his nerves. He doesn’t say it as much as he shows it. After you come out from the shower, he stares at you so intensely it’s hard not to get the.  

You get down on your knees to kiss him before you pull away, a hand on his cheek and pure adoration seeing the state of his face. Cherry red blush dusted all over his skin and pupils blown wide with such adorably obvious desire. 

“Can I touch you?”  

“Why’re you asking?” He stumbles over the words. “J-just do it.”  

You press your back against the wall and tell Sakura to sit between your spread legs - pleased as he obliges you even after some hesitance. You’re a little afraid yourself, the enormity of your lust as Sakura rests his back against your chest overwhelming.  

“This is weird.”  

“Bear with it, please?”  

He doesn’t complain again. You kiss against his shoulder blades, smiling at the way he squirms - tilting his head to meet your mouth and kiss him over his shoulder.  

Your hands clasp his waist, nails running along his sides deliberately slow - dragging against the fabric and so lightly against the skin. He protests it but doesn’t tell you to stop. You let your nails brush against his nipples and his cock jumps in his boxers. Moonlight seeps through the windows, emphasizing the paleness of him under his clothes You can feel his musculature as his back lays against your chest, the steady pumping of your heart matching your own.  

When he reaches the brink of a complaint, you whisper his name against his ear.  

“Haruka-kun,” Tender and breathless - warm against his cool skin. “Just trust me okay? I’ll make you feel really good.”  

“I’m the one that should be—,” His words cut off with a moan, a little helpless sound as you brush against his nipples again. “Damn it.”  

“You want to make me feel good, right? You’re so thoughtful, baby.” Your praise comes in thick - accompanied with a more direct touch. You brush your palms over his clothed erection, smiling as it twitches again. His hips buck for more friction that you don’t afford him. “It makes me feel good when you listen.”  

“That’s…”  

You squeeze his shaft through his clothes for a few seconds before letting go again. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Haruka?”  

“The hell,” It intends to come out harsher than it does. Another muffled moan as you squeeze his cock again, watching his face bloom in reds. He drops his head back along your shoulders. Almost boneless in your arms, you continue to touch his cock indirectly. “What are you.. ohhh,”  

“My good boy. Listen well, and I’ll make sure it feels really good. And you can have anything you want afterwards. Okay?” 

“…Anything?”  

“Anything,” You promise gently. “But you have to listen. Can do you that for me?“ 

He gives you another short, precise nod as you rub his cock again affectionately, a kiss on the nape of his neck. He shivers as goosebumps form along his skin.  

“Damn it. Fine.”  

You kiss him again, another stroke following the touch as you grin against his shoulder. “Perfect.”  

__  

You spend three weeks managing Sakura’s orgasms.   

It takes him a little while to deal with your unreasonable request. You tell him again though that if bears with for a while, he can have anything he possibly wants from you. The prospect of that is too exciting for him to turn you down, so he caves eventually.  

You have one rule: Sakura can’t cum for seven consecutive days. After seven days you want him to cum untouched. No matter what though, you’ll reward him. 

 It takes him a while to reach that goal. You spend your nights doing the same routine as the first nigh, escalating by drawing it out more each time. Light touches followed with deliberately thick, syrupy praise. You fulfill his needs through other means, but showering him in affection makes up most of it.  

You get good at learning what things make him tick. Sakura likes to hear that he’s good for you above all else. That’s always the thing that makes him twitch. He likes being praised for his efforts less than he likes mindless flattery. He likes when you attach possession to the words you use. Affirm his place as yours with every stroke of hands or tracing of fingers. Light touches make him shiver so much it’s cute.  

You learn that his nipples are sensitive and so are his ears and the inside of his thighs when you squeeze them. He likes rougher treatment of his chest but softer against his neck. He likes to be squeezed firmly instead of lightly but you tend to avoid touching his dick too much if at all.  

It’s a little like training a puppy. You follow your routine with strict habituation and Sakura picks up on your cues quickly. Over a few weeks, you watch him grow to anticipate the session of unadulterated praise. Eventually, he’s red before you even touch him, glassy eyed and hard before you even get on your hands on him or kiss him. Just the anticpation is enough because he’s already so easy to work up.  

He fails in not cumming a few times, but that’s okay - you always assure him it’ fine.  

Again and again, you shape his tastes to fit your preferences with cool direction and repetition like water eroding stone. Sakura stops questioning it once the pleasure starts to sink in, eventually so hung up on the feeling - you can barely be in public together without his mind drifting back to it. His headspace gets so melty.  

He’s always been quiet when it comes to affection but he’s practically docile, putty between your fingers as he lets himself be completely pampered when you’re alone. It’s a little surprising ow well he takes it, but you think the desperation outweighs the shame. The desire for release too strong to refuse it no matter how much of a fuss he puts up at the start.  

It’s cute to see him corrupt so fast for your sake. He’s too prideful to beg but once he gets so desperate, he makes a face that’s practically the same. He starts to be interested in the reward at one point or another - though you’re not sure when exactly that is. He really tries so hard not to cum. Your rules are always clear and simply.  

He can cum before you if he wants,  but he has to wait seven days for a rewards. You’ll know if he cums before then. 

After three weeks of ruined orgasms, he eventually abides by this. He still wants you to touch him though. You spend your time as a normal couple until nightfall, and when it’s time - Sakura waits for you to start.  

He’s not vocal about his submission, doesn’t acknowledge it in full even when it’s so obvious. His compliance speaks for itself you think. How he spreads his legs and relaxes into your body more and more - allowing himself to be completely quiet and listen to you. You know you’ve got him when he stops fighting any of it and just allows you to touch him without too much fuss.  

You’re good to Sakura of course. You always praise him softly, sweetly - always kiss him as much as he wants even if you don’t touch his cock directly. You always make him feel good in other ways even if he’s not allowed to cum.  

Eventually, he makes good on the promise of one week. It’s hard on him, you can tell - and he doesn’t do it without whining, but he fights for it. Lets you touch and tease and praise him until his brain shuts off, crawling into your arms right afterwards so you can card your fingers through his hair and praise him more with his face buried in your chest eventually falling to sleep.  

A week passes, eventually - and this time, you end up on Sakura’s lap. A good distance away from his cock. You sit closer to his knees as he sits on a comfortable chair in your well furnished apartment. You haven’t touched him at all, but he’s already got the pretty, glassy expression on his face.  

You cup his cheek with your hand, endeared by how he nuzzles instinctively into your palm. He’s not wearing anything today while you remain clothed aside from your top. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You coo. The reaction is instant, eyes lidding and face growing hot as you continue to shower him with attention. He groans faintly but doesn’t say anything in reply. “It took a little while, but you made it a whole week. Haruka-kun did a good job for me. Made me so happy.” 

He likes hearing that. Praise about how it pleases you always sticks. His face grows warm with familiar, pained arousal. He flushes red down to his chest - his whole body radiating heat. You stare at his cock as it twitches to life at the words, elated when you see the first dribble of precum slide down the shaft. It’s hard for you to not to touch him but you wouldn’t ruin your own hard work.  

“You like making me happy huh? You always do,” You mutter, brushing your thumb across his cheek bone. He’s quiet, eyes look misty as you talk. “My pretty boy. All mine forever. All of you. From here to,” Your brush hair from his forehead before trailing your nails down his chest - lightly scratching above the base of his cock, on his stomach. You brush the soft, bi-colored hairs at the base but don’t get close enough to touch. “Here. Always mine, baby.”  

“S-shit, hngh,”  

“You worked so hard, didn’t you?” You kiss his forehead, his temple, his cheek. “I know it was tough. Bet you’re gonna cum so much for me today. I’ll give you anything you want after you cum once. Anything. Doesn’t that sound nice?”  

His words come out as a slur, thick with want. “Y’promise?”  

Your heart flutters. “Mhm. Whatever you want. You can fuck me, use my mouth. Anything, baby. It’s all yours. You earned it. Such a good boy.”  

“Nghhh,” He throws his head back slightly, his cock twitching again. Bobbing as it jumps against air, you stare down at how more pre-crum dribbles from the tip. “Fuck, fuck. Need to cum, can’t—I can’t”  

“You can cum whenever, Haruka. You’re getting so messy. It’s for me, right? Haruka’s cum,” You mumble, staring at it. “So thick. So much of it left,”  

His eyes go wide before breaking out into another wave of heat - cheels flushing red. His ears, nose, face — all of it. He groans aloud, adams apple bobbing in his throat as arousal makes his cock pulse.  “Good boy. Come on. I want to see you cum for me. Do you think you can? Think you can cum if I praise you a bit? Your cock twitches so much when I’m sweet to you baby, does it make you feel that good to hear? Made you so weak to praise your dick can barely stand it, right? It’s cute. Haruka-kun is so, so cute.”  

His jaw is dropped open dumbly, unable to speak or say anything else as he shivers underneath you. You can feel him squirm, his cock twitching again and again. You don’t touch his dick at all, but you slide your hand down to the soft planes of his stomach and hold it there. Rubbing soft circles into it with your thumb.  

“It’s twitching so hard,” You say with fascinated delight. His whole body strains, a short, clipped, helpless whimper escaping his lips completely involuntary. He bites back as much of the noise as he possible can as your own arousal builds in your stomach. “I’m so turned on watching you like this.”  

It’s almost like a switch flips in him. You can see the surprise in his face, see the reaction in his physical body so fast you can’t help but laugh in awe. “Did you think I just did it for no reason?”  

“No, but… I didn’t think — I d-don’t know, I just didn’t think.” 

You laugh again. “Then should I tell you? I get wet when I bully you and you get like this. So pathetic and needy and so cute. You always get mad when I call you cute but your cock is twitching so much hearing it,” You tell him contentedly. “It feels so good seeing you blush like this. You turn red and it’s so pretty - Haruka-kun is so pretty it’s unfair. Isn’t it natural that I get like this looking at you?”  

He groans, his shoulders shaking as you push him forward. You laugh, delighted by his reaction.  

“Should I tell you something good?” You tease, watching for his eyes to lock with yours before you go on. “I alway went home and touched myself thinking of what kind of face you made for me the night before. Came so much to how pretty Haruka is, you know? Even right now, I’m holding back from touching you and making you cum all over my hands. You wanna cum inside instead though right? After you cum once, I’ll get you nice and hard again and then you can cum where you want. Okay? Cum for me, baby. Be good for me.”  

You hear Sakura gasp and know what’s coming, smiling to yourself as his muscles go taut - hips bucking up as it overtakes him. 

You let your hand hover over the tip of his cock and watch his body shudder as he lets out a load of cum completely untouched. It’s so thick and heavy it doesn’t really shoot as much as it spills all along his shaft in his spurts. Sakura sobs in ruin at the sensation, groaning as your hand wraps around the base of his cock and pumps out the rest.  

His entire body shudders in a flush of red - all rashy knees and blushy chest, nipples tense and hard as he cums while his stomach tightens as he releases. His cock throbs against your hands, still completely hard even after having orgasmed. His face is wet, vision blurred from fat tears that he can barely blink away in time.  

He’s so reactive to the feeling of your hand, he ends up cumming again a little with a strained cry.  

You watch him in amusement, waiting for him to settle down as you rest your palm over the tip to catch any more cum. After you lean forward to meet his mout. He kisses you so eagerly, all tongue and spit - pulling away with breath.  

“You’re so good for me, Haruka,” You kiss the corner of his mouth. “How should I reward you?”  

“Don’t care just,” He drops his head down. “Touch me. All over. Make me feel good. I want to feel you. P-please.”  

You smile a little. “Must be really bad for you to ask me something so embarrassing with your own voice.”  

“Shut the hell up. My dick is gonna explode and it’s so embarrassing so just” He groans. “Y-you’re the devil, just. Please.”  

“Course baby,” You mutter, stroking his cock for emphasis - happy as you watch him shiver. “Anything you want.”