#Then again all I need is a bit more patient right?

[ghoulishhx]

maybe 21 with our baby switch!frankie? perhaps when hes discovering his subby side for the first time 🤭

-💥

oh YUM yes. this is short bc ive been struggling lately with inspiration and whatnot (part of the reason i asked for these prompts) but i hope you enjoy nonetheless pookie <3

21.) wait- uh- do.. do that again..

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x FemSwitch!Reader

Content Warning: blowjobbb, mildly subby frank, edging, orgasm denial, dirty talk, cumeating, praise, beginning of cunnilingus. frank is moooody at the start, power dynmic switches a lot idk

Wordcount: 1.5k

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ distraction

10.pm. You arise from the confines of your bedroom and walk into the living room as you hear his boots thud along the wooden floor as the front door slams behind him.  

“Frankie! Hi, I missed y-” you're cut off by him walking past you, barely acknowledging you as his shoulder brushes yours, making his way into the bathroom. 

This behaviour doesn't surprise you, the nature of his work is tedious and it takes a lot of energy out of him, and you're more than patient. You sigh and trail behind him, leaning against the doorframe as you watch him clean the dried blood coating his knuckles off, the water in the sink turning from clear to red instantly. 

“Bad day?” you ask, already knowing the answer. He basically snorts at your query, shaking his head as he looks at you for the first time. You notice the way his jaw tightens and pupils expand at the sight of you, wearing a new black silk lounge dress. You blush under his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Y'have no idea doll,” he sighs as he grips the porcelain of the sink, knuckles turning white with frustration, adrenaline from the events of the night still courses through his veins. “Just want to be alone for a bit-”

You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder. You've known Frank long enough now to know that being alone isn't what he needs right now, he needs a distraction, and boy do you have the perfect way to distract him.  

Your lips trail along his neck as your hands latch onto his belt, unbuckling the leather and unsheathing it from his worn jeans. 

“Sweetheart, what are y-”

“Shh Frankie, lemme take care of you, okay? Help you forget all about tonight, hmm?” you whisper in his ear, eliciting goosebumps to erupt along his skin as he groans, bucking his hips into your hand that is now resting on his bulge. You can't help but bite your lip to subdue a smirk, you know him too damn well, know what his body needs and when. 

“Fuck babydoll, alright alright.” he turns around and faces you, trailing his fingers along your jaw as you place kisses along his fingers. You take his calloused hand in yours and guide him to the bedroom, pushing him down onto the edge of the bed as you sit between his knees. Frank's hand instantly goes to your hair, the other rubbing comforting circles along your cheek as you remove his jeans from his legs, he lifts his hips to make it easier for you without having to be asked. 

Your eyes bulge out of your skull as you see his length through the dark boxers, already impossibly hard and leaking and you've barely even touched him. Without removing the garment, you place your lips at the base of his cock and kiss him through the fabric, running your tongue across the cotton all the way up to his tip. 

“Such a tease.. lookin’ at me like that” he grumbles, pushing himself up towards you, urging you to remove the clothing, desperation apparent. 

“Patience Frankie, just like seeing the effect I have on you.” you softly speak, humming appreciatively at the view before you. He rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head as he darkly chuckles at how enamoured you are with him.

Lips now nearing the waistband, you take it between your teeth and pull the underwear down his body, exposing his cock to the cool air of the bedroom. Frank hisses at the sudden change in temperature, being as sensitive as he already was making the sensation even more apparent. You bite your lower lip before beginning to kitten lick his dark red tip, collecting his juices on your tongue and swallowing every drop he offered you. 

The noises coming from Frank already are sinful to say the least, he's always vocal in bed however after a bad day, you wish you could record the way he sounds, save the noises forever. His vulnerability shines through on nights like these, and your heart swells with pride knowing you're the person he has chosen to be like this with. Taking his heavy balls in your palm, you begin massaging them as you take his as much of his length as you can into your mouth, flattening your tongue and swirling it around his girth. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, fresh precum oozing from his tip. You flick your tongue up and down his length while he's still inside the warmth of your mouth, 

“Wait-uh, do.. do that again.” 

You briefly pause the blowjob, moving your gaze and mouth from his throbbing cock as you run your nails teasingly up his thigh.

“What was that, Frankie?” you sultry whisper, cocking your head to the side as you raise your eyebrow and curl your lips into a smirk. Frank’s words took you completely by surprise, his request making your core throb as he cadenced his words with a whimper. His look compared to yours is far less composed, chest heaving as sweat beads along his brow, lips parted as he groans at the loss of contact. His hands leave your hair and move to where he needs them most, pumping his cock slowly in his hands as the tip throbs blood red, precum oozing from his slit.

“No no baby, y’can have me back in a sec.. Use your words f’me, okay?” you firmly take his wrist from his member and place his hand on your cheek. Frank’s thumb instantly moves to your swollen lips, toying with the plushness before you wrap your mouth around his digit, swirling him in your mouth as you take him as deep as possible, reminding him of the same sensation that was once on his cock, the one you denied mere seconds ago.

“Fuck baby- don’ make me beg.” he groans as you nibble his thumb before using your tongue to soothe the slight sting. 

“It’s just, ya felt so.. feel so good. C’mon doll, want y’pretty mouth around me again..” he starts bucking his hips towards your mouth, chasing your warmth once again.

“Use your manners, Frank. C’mon, say please.”

“Shit doll- hmph fuck..” he moans apprehensively, his cock twitching uncontrollably, the lack of control making him questionably more aroused (though he will never admit that to you). He feels safe being this vulnerable with you, willing to let you explore your more dominant side. “P-please baby.. Need you.. Do it again, please-”

“That's it Frankie, easy as that.” you grin, proud as you wrap your mouth around his cock, resuming the pace you had before, running your tongue along his prominent vein before flicking it across the top of his frenulum as you fondle his balls once again with your palm. His hips buck into you, pushing himself impossibly further down your throat as you allow him to fuck your face. 

“That’s it, just like that shit. Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ me so well.” he praises in between moans and gasps, taking back the control, slightly, but you allow it. You got what you wanted, you made Frank Castle, The Punisher himself, beg for you; the realisation sending waves of arousal through your body like electricity. 

It’s not long before he’s emptying himself down your throat, moaning your name along with strings of curse words as his hands firmly grasp your hair. His sticky seed coats the walls of your throat, thick and hot as you swallow every last drop. You pull your mouth from him with an exaggerated “pop” and a string of saliva stays connecting the two of you. You giggle at his form, bright red and whole body tremors encompass him, the sheer force of his orgasm destroying him.

“Y’gonna be the death of me, girl.” he mumbles as he pulls you up to him, kissing you bruisingly as he flips you onto your back, trailing his mouth down your body, stopping at your dripping core. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he places a short kiss on your bundle of nerves, spreading you apart with his fingers as me smirks at how slick you are, dripping arousal all over the sheets. 

“Fuckin’ soaked baby, lemme repay ya f’making me feel so good, yeah? Takin’ my mind off shit so well” you nod desperately as he chuckles, instantly latching himself to your clit as you arch your back into him. He revels in the way you instantly come undone beneath him, humping his face. Despite him letting you take control sometimes, he always reminds you who comes out on top.

──── ୨୧ ────

a/n: idk how i feel ab this, im just really self conscious ab my writing lately. please lmk if you liked it!

my inbox is open!

[writingsforfandoms-multi]

post night shift | michael robinavitch x nurse! reader

summary: robby comforts his gf after her first and last night shift

warnings: mention of patient deaths

a.n: this is the first thing i’ve written in over 4 years thank you dr robby for the inspiration

“She lost three patients today” abbot gives robby the heads up over the phone after he walks you out of the hospital.

Robby’s heart drops, he knows you take losing a patient very hard, he can’t imagine how you’ll be after losing three. He wasn’t expecting you to walk into your shared apartment pissed.

“What the fuck is night shift?!” you exclaimed as you walked in the door and took off your shoes by the entryway, setting your bag on the hook. Michael came to meet you near the entryway, “I knew I wasn’t made for night shift and this just confirmed it,” you rambled. “The staff was great and I love working with abbot but my god I’m never covering one of those shifts again, that was horr-horrible” your voice shakes as tears well up in your eyes and then the next thing you know you’re crying in robby’s arms.

You weren’t even supposed to be there. You were doing a favor for the night shift charge nurse when she called to see if you were willing to come in since they were so short staffed. You remembered abbot mentioning how much smoother night shift would run with more nurses since they were usually always short staffed anyway, so you figured you would help out by coming in.

You loved being a nurse, you truly did, but it was shifts like these that made it so hard. Yes, you helped many patients today, but it was hard not to focus on the ones who died.

Robby doesn't ask you any questions, he knows you’ll talk to him when you're ready, and he also knows that right now you just need to cry it all out, allow the grief to leave your body. It still breaks his heart listening to your sobs, but all he can do is rub your back to try to comfort you.

“I lost three patients today” you hiccuped out through your crying as you lifted your head to look up at robby.

He takes your face in his palms as his eyes soften, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know it’s hard”

“One was just a kid, 8 years old” you cry a little harder and his thumbs lightly brush your cheeks. He brings your head back against his chest, and after a few moments your cries quiet down, and you finally look back up at him, “today was so fucking hard michael” you whisper

“I know baby, I know” he says as he leads you to the couch and you immediately crawl into his lap and take your place against him.

You paused for a moment, “did abbot call you?” you asked

He nods, “yeah, he was worried about you”

“I need to apologize to him,” you sighed, “I may or may not have snapped at him after losing my second patient” you grimaced, remembering how harsh you were with him

“You know he didn't take it personally” he says, softly rubbing your back and you just nod in response.

After a few moments of just enjoying his company you say, “I’m gonna head to bed, I need to get my sleep schedule back on track to flip back to days for the next shift” you kiss his cheek, feeling like the heavy weight of grief on your chest lessened when you cried it out. This was a rule you and robby made for yourselves when you first started dating: you would cry out all the emotions you needed to, take as much time as you needed to go through the motions of the day, and then let it go.

“Then let’s go to bed” he says, and you look at him confused, didn’t he just wake up? “I took a very short nap after my shift and woke up around 3 so I could wait up and take a nap with you when you got back” he explains, a bit sheepishly even

You let out a small smile, “you’re so cute” and give him a kiss, “how did I get so lucky?” you lean back in his lap to look at him. He can feel a soft blush taking over his face when he notices how you’re looking at him, all these months together and you still make him blush.

“I’m the lucky one, sweetheart, I can’t believe you still put up with me” he says softly, thinking of how you put up with him and all the emotional baggage he was dealing with in the beginning of your relationship, and how incredibly thankful he was that you stayed.

“Always” you said

[xoxorory]

The Son of the Sea vs. the Common Cold !

POV: Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sick!Percy Jackson x fem!reader

Genre: Romance, humor, tension, flirting, +18 (suggestive comments), established relationship, fluff

Taglist🏷️ : @shootingstargirl2001 , @simpingmyassoff (if you want to be added,comment down below!)

Camp Half-Blood – Poseidon Cabin – 08:12 a.m.

I love Percy Jackson madly. With the intensity of a storm, the sweetness of summer, and the kind of patience you only reserve for children of the gods.

But this man is the most unbearable patient on the planet.

“I don’t need medicine. I’m the son of the sea god. I can breathe underwater, survive kraken attacks and—”

“And yet you’re sweating like you were run over by a hippogriff,” I cut in, arms crossed as I stand in the doorway.

Percy is tangled in a mess of blankets like some feverish burrito. His hair’s a wreck, his nose is red, and his eyes are way more watery than usual. He looks miserable. He looks adorable. And he looks absolutely useless.

“I’m not that bad,” he croaks, then sneezes so hard it startles a fish in the bowl across the room.

“Of course not, Jackson. You look ready to lead a war. What’s next? Rainbow vomit?”

He gives me a weak but defiant look—and sneezes again.

I sigh. Walk toward him with a cup of tea and a bottle of medicine.

“Drink this. Take two spoonfuls of this. And if you try to sneak off to train, I swear I’ll tell Annabeth to chain you down with grammar rules.”

“That’s torture,” he grumbles.

“Welcome to the mortal world, my sniffling sea slug.”

09:00 a.m. – The Fever Hits

After arguing with me for twenty minutes, Percy finally gives in and takes the medicine. And then… he collapses. Literally. He lies down, pulls the covers over his ears, and starts murmuring things that make zero sense.

“Babe… the… wave… spoke to me.”

“What did it say?”

“That you’re beautiful.”

I smile, sitting at the edge of his bed.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the fever talking?”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.”

I lean over to run my fingers across his forehead, where the heat is pulsing. He’s burning up.

And yet, he manages to open one eye and say:

“Don’t stop touching me. Your hands are cold. And soft. And magical.”

“I’m literally wiping you down with a wet cloth, Jackson. Calm your libido.”

“Impossible. You’re wearing that blue top that fits you just right. I’m defenseless.”

I sigh… and stroke his hair. It’s soft, tangled with sweat, and still smells like ocean. Even sick, Percy Jackson is so unapologetically him that it makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

10:00 a.m. – The Nurse (with Zero Patience)

I try to let him sleep. I turn off the lamp. Change the damp cloth. Sit quietly in a chair and start reading. But every five minutes…

“Babe…”

“Yes?”

“I’m cold.”

I fix the blanket.

Two minutes later:

“Princess…”

“What now, Percy?”

“Now I’m hot.”

“You’re worse than a hormonal nightmare.”

“But you love me like this.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

11:00 a.m. – Philosophical Percy

The fever’s messing with his brain. He’s in romantic philosopher mode now.

“Did you know there are creatures deep in the ocean that have never seen the light?”

“I know. You’re one of them right now.”

“Babe.”

“What?”

“If I die, tell my mom I was brave.”

“You have a cold, not a curse from Hades.”

“Still. And tell Annabeth I’m sorry about the dictionary I accidentally destroyed.”

“Percy…”

“And tell Grover he can have my coral collection.”

“I swear, if you don’t stop being dramatic, I’m shoving the medicine down your throat with a funnel.”

He grins, satisfied.

“Sorry ma.”

12:00 p.m. – The Sweet Part

After all the drama, Percy finally falls asleep. For real this time. His forehead’s less hot, and his breathing is steady. I lie down next to him, just for a bit, careful not to wake him.

My hand brushes against his.

And without opening his eyes, he murmurs:

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I always will, Jackson.”

“Even if I turn into a fish?”

“Especially if you turn into a fish. I’ll put a tank in my cabin.”

He chuckles softly. And then falls asleep again.

2:00 p.m. – Lunchtime…

When I get up to go grab him some food, I bump into Tyson at the door.

“My little brother okay?” he asks.

“Fever. Snot. Dramatic delirium. The usual.”

Tyson nods solemnly.

“You give him soup?”

“On my way.”

“Put little pieces of octopus in it. He likes that.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

3:00 p.m. – Recovery with a Spoonful of Tenderness

I bring him soup. Percy doesn’t want to eat. Says he’s too weak.

So… I feed him myself.

“This is humiliating,” he whispers as I lift the spoon to his lips.

“This is adorable. Shut up and chew.”

He chews. And smiles.

“You know, I imagined being sick and you taking care of me, but in my fantasy, you were wearing a nurse uniform.”

“Stop talking with your mouth full,it’s disgusting.”

“Yes,ma’am.”

4:00 p.m. – A Bit Better… and Still Hot

He can walk now. Barely, but it counts. He gets in the shower while I tidy up the bed.

And when he walks out, hair dripping, towel slung around his waist, leaning against the doorframe, he gives me that crooked smile.

“So taking care of me turns you into a mama hen?” he asks, voice raspy but teasing.

I give him a once-over. He’s dark-eyed, unkempt, flushed from the fever.

And still…

“Gods. You’re the sexiest sick man I’ve ever seen.”

“Knew it.”

“And yet, you’re not kissing me until you’re virus-free, Jackson.”

He groans. Literally moans like I stabbed his soul.

“That’s cruel. You’re cruel,ma.”

“And you’re contagious. Back off, germ incubator.”

6:00 p.m. – Fevered Confessions

He’s better now. Enough to joke again. But when he settles back in bed and looks at me with that rare kind of seriousness he hides behind humor, he takes my hand and says:

“Thank you.”

“For the soup?”

“For existing.”

I freeze. Stare at him.

“Percy…”

“You have no idea what you do to me. How you make me want to get better faster just so I can keep making you laugh.”

“You do things for me too, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Like looking at me like I’m art. Like loving even the broken parts I try to hide.”

He smiles. Slow. Beautiful.

“You’re my medicine.”

“And you’re my favorite chaos.”

[hikato-chan]

And continuation of Mu Qingfang's pov!

He helped him with the first robe, carefully tugging it down and sliding it down his arms before letting it drop onto the bed and continuing with the next. Shen Qingqiu was still sitting on them, but he could be moved once he was out of all his layers.

The two inner robes needed untying as well, but then all robes were off and he could finally see the entire damage. The blood of the bite had congealed, but wiping the excess away carefully revealed that the dark shadow over Shen Qingqiu's throat was actually a healing bruise. One of his wrists had one as well, both of them in the shape of a hand.

It was a relief to see that there were no other obvious bruises, like on his hips or waist. Mu Qingfang knew he would need to fully check anyway in a bit, though he hoped that Shen Qingqiu would be more aware and able to give consent for the examination.

He cleaned the bite methodically, slowly revealing the extent of which he already healed. Where the teeth marks had been pronounced, they were now a softer shape as the outer edges started healing.

He disinfected the bite after cleaning, then spread salve on it to help with healing. He didn't technically need to do either for a wound like this, but he didn't want to take risks with his Shixiong's health.

A loud noise came from downstairs, the sound of the entrance door being thrown open. Shen Qingqiu flinched at the sound, but relaxed again at the footsteps coming up the stairs. Liu Qingge had arrived.

Mu Qingfang lifted up the basin of bloody water and went to somehow get him to stop before he stormed into the room. He really didn't want to have two patients if Liu Qingge deviated on the spot.

"Liu-shixiong" he called, making him stop on top of the stairs to look at Mu Qingfang and his bloody basin, "could you hold the basin for a moment please?"

He held it out, knowing that his shixiong would take it, and then closed the door behind him. This wasn't a conversation to have close to this room.

He lead them downstairs instead, dodging the questions until he was outside to clean the basin.

Then, he explained. "I need you to investigate." He started with a weight that had Liu Qingge straighten. "Roughly an incense stick ago, I found Shen-shixiong with a bonding bite. As it currently stands, it is likely that it was forced on him, seeing as it is healing and there was bruising to suggest he was held down."

"I will do a thorough exam in a bit, however Shen-shixiong is in shock and shouldn't be bothered too much right now. I need you to investigate this incident so that we can share the details with Zhangmen-shixiong once he arrived tomorrow morning."

Liu Qingge nodded, of course, and then took charge of the conversation. "Anything you can tell me about how you found him?"

"He was standing around the corner from here. He held pressure on the wound but was in shock. From the way he was standing I assume he walked at least a bit before stopping again."

He nodded again, then continued, "He was supposed to be in his room, right? Did he say anything about leaving?"

Mu Qingfang shook his head. "I hadn't known he was gone until I found him."

"Then I need to check his room first, to track the scent."

Mu Qingfang shook his head, then tilted it. "You can't currently go in, the wound isn't bandaged yet. But you can come in once he's dressed, if he agrees to it."

Liu Qingge wasn't thrilled, that much was obvious, but he evidently also wasn't going to overstep Shen Qingqiu's boundaries. He was anxious to get started, to find a scent and track it until he found the one who thought this was a good idea. It might even make a satisfying fight, considering he bit a peak lord. Shen Qingqiu was a good opponent, when his health didn't mess with him.

As Mu Qingfang went back upstairs, he stayed outside to look for where Mu Qingfang had found Shen Qingqiu. There was still a faint smell of blood in the air from where he was led inside, so he followed it until it got a bit stronger. Another trail, fainter because of time passing, lead away from the house. He looked around, analyzing, for a reason his shixiong might have stopped here. There was nothing, until he heard noise from the window above him and realized that it led to the exact room Shen Qingqiu claimed as his own.

He filed that away, then turned to follow the trail. It trailed off after just a minute though, leaving him with nothing but a rough direction. This would have been easier if Shen Qingqiu didn't suppress his scent completely at all times. If he had a healing bite though, didn't that mean that he was an Omega, not a beta? There was no way to tell with him hiding like that.

He turned back, needing to look through the room for clues and then he could look around in the direction the trail led. Maybe he would go around the house to see if anyone had been sneaking around.

Continuation of this (Omegaverse where Omegas can reject a bond)

Shen Qingqiu stood there, frozen, as Luo Binghe ran after apologizing. He stared at the wall, mind not comprehending any of this. The bite was bleeding, soaking into the collar of his robes and then slowly staining it further but he didn't quite notice.

Finally, he got himself to move. He should put pressure on the wound so it doesn't ruin the robes. He glanced down and almost lost all motivation again. They were already stained. The blood had spread, not so much but enough that he didn't think it was worth worrying about anymore.

Not that he could feel a lot right now. Still, he told himself as he got out a handkerchief, the wound still needed to be tended to. He pressed it onto the bite, and then stood there again, listless and lost at what to do now.

Get somewhere safe, he supposed. Somewhere that wasn't here. Get out of the alley, get onto a street. Walk.

He turned back the way he came from. He had mostly run in a straight line, which was stupid now that he was walking back and thinking about it. He should have taken more corners. Not that it would have changed the end result though.

Getting back to the weapon shop he was faced with another problem to stare at. He had gone out of the window, and the room wasn't ground level. He could jump up with his cultivation, of course, but was that an ok thing to do with the wound? He probably shouldn't jostle it that much, right? Did that count for a cultivator?

He could go through a door he supposed. Though he wanted to immediately disregard the thought. Someone might notice him walking in. He wasn't even really thinking about why that would be bad beyond the strong impulse not to be seen like this.

But what else should he do? Maybe there was a back entrance? There had to be, this was a weapon shop. There was probably a forge around he hadn't noticed yet.

Still that answer didn't feel acceptable neither, and he wasn't sure how long he stood there waiting for a better solution to arrive before steps became noticable from the side and he froze.

Mu Qingfang had smelled the blood, even in a disease ridden city like this, and had gone out to see who wasn't coming in for his help. Instead of a patient though, he found his shixiong. He didn't notice him until the doctor started making much more noise while walking, and even then, his reaction was delayed.

Shen Qingqiu turned to him, and his eyes didn't automatically focus on him for a second. The wound he was pressing on didn't seem huge, but he knew they didn't have to be. It was close enough to the neck though that he got worried. Especially with Without-a-cure messing with his healing speed. The delayed reactions worried him much more though. He had seen him injured worse and pretend everything is fine.

Something was wrong. But he wouldn't know what it was until he treated him.

"Shen-shixiong." He called out as he walked towards him at a calm pace. Hurrying might startle him in that state.

Shen Qingqiu blinked, then replied "Ah, Mu-shidi" with a mumble that was unlike him. But his eyes were focused and watching him approach. He didn't step away though when his shidi got close.

"Come" the doctor said simply, hovering a hand over his back to get him to move towards the door with him. He moved, steady but oddly absent as he was led to the door, then to his room and sat on the bed. Mu Qingfang only left shortly to get a basin of water and a small table before returning to find him sitting exactly as he was left. His eyes were clouded and unfocused again.

"I need to see the wound, Shen-shixiong. I will move your hand and the handkerchief away." He would have usually asked him to give him room to work but in the state he was in, Mu Qingfang wasn't sure he was registering the words until seconds later.

He moved the hand clutching the handkerchief and understood why he was in the state he was. There, plain as day, was a healing bite mark on his bonding gland. One that was slowly healing by the looks of it.

He understood the implication. This would need to go to the Sect leader. And, the doctor understood, he would need to do a full exam to make sure that this was the only thing that happened to him. He needed Liu Qingge back too, to investigate while Mu Qingfang did his part. For now, he removed the bloody handkerchief and started washing his shixiong's hands.

"I need you to undress so that I can bandage the wound," he said to him, " move slowly, I will help with anything that needs this shoulder.

He waited, counting the seconds, until Shen Qingqiu agreed and started fiddling with the ties. Mu Qingfang, in the meantime, turned to the side to write a quick emergency message to Liu Qingge to get him to return.

He sent it off through the window, and then turned to see Shen Qingqiu waiting for him. His first few layers were untied so he likely needed help getting the robes off.

-

I'll write the next part later.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I know those eyes.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You��re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[kingkaisen]

𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒!

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: JJK men & their nasty, perverted habits . . . ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, & choso.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: MINORS DNI — fem! reader, reader wears a dress, drinking, smut, grinding, whining, riding, masturbation, panty stealing, touching, creampie, penetration, unprotected, etc.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐘! - NANAMI

Kento Nanami is a gentleman.

He always opens doors for you, never shows up late for dates, and is truly an old-fashioned romantic.

However, he just can’t keep his hands to himself.

The two of you are attending an important gathering related to his corporate job. There’s expensive drinks, classical music, and soft chatter.

You and Nanami make your way around, engaging in small talk while sipping on champagne, and Nanami’s large hand is pressed against your back.

You’re having a conversation with the wife of his boss, and Nanami’s hand starts to go lower and lower, and he grabs your ass rather quickly. You keep your composure, but Nanami’s breath hitches a bit as he clears his throat.

Feeling your ass, even just for a second, was starting to make him lose control.

“Sorry, if you’ll excuse us for a moment,” Nanami suddenly says before dragging you away.

He takes you into one of the bathrooms and shoves you up against the sink.

“Kento,” you whine. “We’re at a gathering.”

“I know,” he whispers into your ear. “I just can’t keep my hands off of you.”

Nanami starts to grind his hard, clothed dick against your ass, moaning softly.

You simply looked too phenomenal in that dress. As his hard cock strains painfully against the fabric of his pants, the only form of relief came when your ass rubbed against it.

“We need to leave,” he grips your hips, pressing himself against you even more as you gripped the edges of the bathroom counter. “If I don’t take you home now, I’ll cum right in my pants.”

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑! - GOJO

Satoru Gojo was ready to stuff you with his seed as soon as you both made it home after your wedding.

He had often dreamed about having children with you, but in particular, he wanted to fill you up until he couldn’t physically cum anymore.

Gojo thrusted in and out of you at a quick pace. His hand was pressed underneath your knee as he held your leg back, as close to your chest as he could. You could feel him inside of you even more that way. The thick veins running along his cock rubbed your walls deliciously, and the way your body jerked from his thrusts were starting to make you dizzy.

And he couldn’t get enough. By now, he had finished inside of you already, but he had to do it a second time. Perhaps, a third time as well.

His balls tightened as another orgasm started to overwhelm him, and he groaned.

“I’m gonna cum again, baby,” he warned. “I’m gonna cum deep inside of you. You’re gonna take it all for me, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

“I gotta fill you up — I have to.” As another load of his cum shot out of his aching dick and inside of you, he pressed a hand down against your stomach.

“You feel it?” He continued to thrust and moan. He needed to stuff you as much as he could. “You feel my cum, don’t you?”

“There’s so much of it,” you said with a soft moan.

He was still cumming and cumming, and it didn’t seem like he would ever stop. And, god, he hoped he wouldn’t somehow.

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇! - GETO

Suguru Geto was a man who always knew what to say. His words were always powerful and wise.

They were also downright filthy, too.

No matter where you both were — at dinner in a nice restaurant, in the movie theater, at the airport — Geto couldn’t help but press his lips against your ear, and whisper something he knew would get your panties wet.

Today in particular, you were both at the grocery store, waiting in line patiently with a cart full of food.

Suddenly, Geto pressed himself against your backside. To nearby shoppers, he simply seemed like an affectionate partner, but you knew what was coming.

Geto leaned down a bit, his warm breath patting against your ear.

“Let’s head home after this. I really wanna eat your pussy before dinner. Let’s see how much of your cum I can swallow.”

“Suguru,” you whispered softly. “We’re in public.”

“No one can hear me, sweet girl. I bet I could reach my hand into your pants and rub your clit, and no one would notice. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I-”

“Shhh,” he smiled a bit, although you couldn’t see it. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until we get home, but once we do, we’re gonna fuck and fuck all night long.”

He gave your ear a slow, little lick, and stepped away from you, grinning as he started to put the groceries on the conveyor belt.

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐘! - CHOSO

“Please,” a soft, desperate whine fell from Choso’s lips. “Make me cum again, please.”

The gorgeous guy started to squirm around beneath you, attempting to raise his hips, chasing the feeling of your tight cunt around him.

“Ride me again,” Choso gripped your hips. “Please ride me again.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Slowly, he started to glide you up and down along his cock, moaning softly.

“You’re so impatient,” you teased. Despite your words, you helped him out by pressing your hands against his chest, and riding him once again.

“Oh my god,” Choso whispered. “Feels so good. Don’t stop, okay? I need to cum again.”

Your pussy milked his cock until he could no longer form any coherent sentences.

“Baby, please . . . shit, baby. I can’t hold it, I can’t- please, oh fuck.”

Moan after moan fell from between his pretty lips, and without warning — he couldn’t speak well enough to say anything — Choso shot another load of cum right inside of you.

You both paused to catch your breath, but not for long, as Choso started to squirm around once again.

“Another,” he whined softly. “Don’t stop, please. Do it again . . . I wanna cum again.”

���𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! - TOJI

When Toji Fushiguro asked to come to your house, you thought nothing of it.

It wasn’t unusual for him to come over, but little did you know, he had a habit of snooping around.

He liked to see what kind of things you had in your home, and eventually, he knew by heart what brand of toothpaste you preferred and whether you kept certain condiments in the fridge or in the cabinet.

But, his favorite place to snoop was in your bedroom.

Often, he’d say, “I’m gonna go piss,” while getting up from the couch and making his way down the hall. But he never went into the bathroom.

He’d go into your bedroom instead and open your drawer, growing hard at the sight of your undergarments.

He’d typically just steal one pair of panties and shove them into his pocket.

But it wasn’t good enough.

After all, your underwear smelled like detergent. It didn’t smell like you — or, more specifically, your sweet pussy.

That was when he snuck into your laundry room and went into your dirty clothes hamper, digging until he found the perfect pair of used panties.

He shoved them into his pocket, and returned to the living room.

Later on, when he got home, he put those panties right into his mouth, jerking off as he daydreamed about eating your pussy. It was magical, especially now that he knew how it would taste.

Then, he laced those panties around his hard cock, fucking his fist as he shot load after load into the soft material, moaning your name as he did so.

🏷: @sad-darksoul

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react you knocking someone out for insulting your man and firmly saying "That's what you get for insulting my husband!"

A fun request and also a callback to my old post HAHAHA. How would they react to this? And the fact that you guys are not even married yet?

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

Are you joking. This man would be so proud of you. He wasn't even bothered by the insult, he even secretly thanks the stranger because he loves this badass ruthless side of you.

And also, you firmly saying he's your husband? He's already thinking of which ring he should get you because he loves the idea of him being "husband" all the time.

The next day you see him browsing for rings, "What.. are you doing?" "Well, you called me your husband so I thought I should really get you a ring. If it happens again, the ring would hurt them even more."

Xavier

Was so confused because it happened so fast. I mean, yes, he is fast too but he always brushed it off if someone somehow insults him.

So to see you stand up for him like that was a bit surprising.. but in a good way, because you know he would do the same to you too, right?

"Did you call me your husband?" "Sorry, I was-" "No, I liked it. A lot. We should go to HR and update our relationship status." "Xavier, that's not how this works!!"

Rafayel

After seeing the knock out punch he smiled happily "That's what you get for messing with my bodyguard!" He didn't register the word "husband" at first.

"Oh, so I'm just your bodyguard now? Not bride? I called you my-" He finally registers it "YOU CALLED ME YOUR- WAIT, MY POOR FISHIE BRAIN NEED TO PROCESS THIS."

He calls you his bride quite often but you always act like it wasn't a big deal, while in fact, it was a big deal and you get so giddy hearing it. So this is a form of revenge on him too, in a way.

Zayne

He also didn't care about the insult. Being a doctor, he's used to getting cussed out by upset patients or family of patients, some people grief differently and sometimes they lash out at the doctors and nurses.

So seeing you knock someone out in a single punch and hearing your words made him feel... he actually has someone who stands up for him now. Still, as a doctor, he has to check on the poor (and rude) stranger first. And of course your knuckles!

While applying first aid kit to your knuckles he remembers your words, "Thank you." "Hmm?" "For standing up for me, and for calling me your husband." You start to blush because.. did you really call him that!? You didn't mean to say it out loud! "We should make it official soon, what do you think?"

Caleb

HEAR ME OUT. I would love to have reader knock the stranger out in one punch but what IF- you didn't and they tried to punch back but Caleb stopped it with his evol, making them kneel in front of you?

"Did you really think I'd let you land a punch on my wife?" After making the man apologize to you, the rest went by a blur because it happened so fast and Caleb wouldn't let you see it. (I mean you remember what happened to Viper right?)

He came back to you with that familiar smile that you love so much, "You called me your husband!!!" "Caleb, what the hell happened-" "Can you call me that again? Your husband? Say it again, please!"

[porcalinecunt]

Can i pls request some face sitting headcanons for bllk guys? Specifically Sae, Rin, Shido, Oliver and Bachira solely because i think they're the nastiest 😆🫣 thank God!

𝐒𝐈𝐓.

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ face sitting with blue lock boys! ~

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐒𝐀𝐄 & 𝐑𝐈𝐍. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔. 𝐎𝐋𝐈��𝐄𝐑. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀.

cw — gn!reader. afab!reader. so much oral sex. edging. overstimulation. spanking. spitting. squirting. full on tongue fucking. denied orgasms. pervy behavior. shidou being an animal.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : FUCK—this too me way too long to finish, but here it is! apologies nonnie for taking forever ;-;

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

slow n steady always wins the race. a motto sae keeps firm when it comes to sex, no matter what he’s doing. when it comes to oral though..god. the agonizing drag of his tongue while he holds you by your hips, moving them against his mouth as he kissed your sensative clit before prodding his tongue against your hole. everytime you try to speed up your pace, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and waist to keep you in your place. he might as well be edging the fuck out of you until you finally feel the knot snap in two and gush all over your boyfriend’s mouth. sae, bedroom eyes and all, would admire your fucked out face and trembling body before flipping you onto your back and continuing where he left off. safe to say, you aren’t getting out of his grip until you squirted every last drop.

“s-sae..quit being a tease..” you stuttered, trying your hardest not to buck your hips. if it wasn’t for sae’s strength, you would’ve gone wild and full on rode his face like a madman. his whole arms wrapped around your thighs, gripping tighter then usual while he switched from your clit to your sensitive pussy. sae’s sharp, jade eyes staring up at yours. his pupils were blown with a burning desire all too clear to you, as if his tongue movements didn’t say enough. god, he was a patient one and it was getting on your last nerves. a thought he promptly smacked you out of with a simple strike to the ass.

“paitience, darling. or i’ll leave you like this, i can’t stand whiny whores who get greedy.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rin is more needier then his older brother, encouraging your carnal desires and egging you on as you rode his face as fast n hard as you please. the guy was basically making out with your cunt, open mouthed kisses and his tongue prying through your pussy had you gripping on the headboards or his hair. his hands roamed your body as he pleased, tracing his fingers against your stomach up to your sensitive nipples where he pinched and squeezed between his fingertips. don't think he'll stop either! long after you squirt all over his mouth, he'll only pull away just to take one long look at your fucked out face before he dives right back in again. rin gets pussydrunk a bit too easily, but why complain?

“rin..m-more, please..! i need more!” you begged and pleaded with a whine ripped straight from the jugular as you grinding your pussy against your boyfriend’s mouth. rin cracked open his eyes, through the blurred chaos, he admired your fucked out expression as you clung onto the wooden headboard for dear fuckin’ life. it was all too addictive to simple get off, how desperate and downright pussydrunk this man was, it’d be too cruel to pull away now! your thought process only strengthened when rin began to tug away at your sensative and soaked nipples from when he was mouthing at them earlier. he simply couldn’t get enough.

“stay with me..please, fuck! jus’ a little more, you can do that for me? please..?”

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

so much of a sloppy eater, it’s downright disgusting. shidou’s hands are unpredictable, switching from caressing and squishing the soft flesh of your ass to swatting away at it with quick strikes. don’t get me started on his oral anticts. this man is fucking eating away at your poor pussy, flicking his tongue against your sore clit while suckin’ n kissing at your abused hole. you couldn’t even move your hips with how much he’d just forced you down onto his mouth again, thus you had to sit there and simply take what he gives you, and god, the noises. besides your own moans and sobs for him to slow down, shidou’s downright animalistic growls and groans fill your ears and go straight into your cunt. don’t think he’s done either after you squirt into his mouth, oh no no! he’ll only push you onto your back with the hopes of you crushing his head with your thighs. he can’t get enough of you.

“haah..ah..r-ryu..” was all you could mutter out of your sore throat. after much whining and sobbing from the overstimulation, you could only make small noises of pleasure while shidou ate away like a man on death row. lapping up the remains of your last orgasm, he pried and pried at your hole until you swore he was tongue fucking you. grabbing fist fulls of his blonde hair only fueled the maniac to fuckin’ nip at your clit, an action that forced another intense orgasm out of your abused cunny and soaked his face even more then before. you could feel a smirk form of his lips before he landed a barrage of sharp slaps onto the flesh of your ass, dragging you out of your euphoric afterglow in time to feel his tongue pushing itself back in.

“c’mon sugar, don’t lose me now! we’re just getting started..! now, keep those pretty legs open..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

mister aiku here pays attention to both puss and ass with glee. when he told you to sit on his face, he meant it. there's nowhere that his mouth didn't touch, meaning you couldn't run from this man either. similar to shidou, he eats like a starved animal in front of a piece of meat. fingers pumping you full while he pays special attention to your poor clit with the occasional nips that would have you mewling and whining like a bitch in heat. but sadly, he's a greedy bastard when it comes to sex, pulling away right before you could have you sweet orgasm. heterochrome eyes staring daggers at your fucked out face while you pleaded for him to let you cum. you were almost in tears when oliver finally stuffed your twitching cunt with his fingers once again and went to town on your clit again. did i mention he pays attention to ass? that poor thing was covered in handprints and crecent shaped dents from how hard he was grabbing it. maybe, even a little bite mark for good measure.

“oliverrrr!” you whined out. "let me cum already! pleasee!" through tears, you could still see that bastard's shit eating grin. he was fucking enjoying this, getting off at your desperation while you bucked your hips at nothing. down there, oliver was enjoying the show he put together for himself and himself alone. his thumb ghosting over your neglected clit, his eyes flicking up to your own, pleading ones. you looked like a kicked puppy who didn’t get it’s owner’s attention, just like how oliver liked you. a shit eating grin stretched across his lips as he promptly gave your ass a hard slap before finger fucking your cunny at a furious pace. the noises it made sounded straight out of a porno as the pro player flicked his tongue around your clitty. it was all too much to handle at once, or so you claimed. you knew damn well oliver could see right through your teary eyes, and sniff out your disgusting, whorish fantasy.

“keep cryin’ like that and i’ll stop again, you hear me? i know you can pretty thing..i fuckin’ know you can.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

what a pervert, a proud one at that too! he couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself all day, something the grew more and more dangerously obvious as the day went on. sneaky hands up your skirt or down your pants, gentle squeezes on your inner thighs inching too close to your wet cunt. the final straw was when you caught him trying to look up your skirt/down your loose pants. dragging him all the way home where he couldn’t even wait to get to the bed and pushed you against the wall, kneeling in front of you while patting his cheek eagerly. clinging onto whatever door frame or counter was nearby as bachira pressed open mouthed, tongue heavy kisses against your spread pussy. he was a messy eater as well, going as far as to even spit on your cunny before diving back in with the intention of drowning in your juices. bachira was full on obsessed. nothing could tear him away from your cunny, no matter how hard you yanked his hair or tried to push his head away. he’ll always come back for more!

“o-oh god..bachira, baby..!” you sighed, clasping a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to not alarm the neighbors. bachira quickly noticed and yanked your hand away, staring up at you with the same crazed look he had all day. he didn’t tear his eyes off of you, forcing to maintain eye contact with him as he licked and macked with your ruined cunt. your knees felt weaker and weaker, probably because of the last orgasms your monster of a boyfriend gave you, yet he just refuses to quit! not the stinging pain of you gripping his hair or even your efforts to straight up push him away so he doesn’t suffocate to death in your pussy. bachira, in retaliation, forced your wrists against the wall and gives your cunt a mean spat. you flinched in shock, watching as he simply goes back to eating you out like a madman. fuck, thank god you made it home in time.

“don’t shy away from me! i’m only getting started, my love..don’t you want me to please you? hm?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[freaktoru]

THAT BOY IS A MONSTER! - sukuna with a tongue piercing making you sit on his face!

"i told you to stay still" sukuna growled against your skin from underneath you, his voice barely audible thanks to you squishing him with your thighs. that’s right, you were sat on his face, while he drove you mad with just the licks and flicks of his tongue. ryomen sukuna was not only the king of curses, but also an enigma— a king of surprises. so when he came home one day with not one but two tongue piercings, he only proved the title fitting yet again.

" 'kuna ah-" you whimpered helplessly, feeling his pierced tongue swirl playfully around your clit. he had a possessive grip on your thighs on either side of his head, holding you down so he could tongue fuck you as he pleased. sukuna was not patient. no, it was almost impossible to convince him to wait until his piercings healed before he ate you out—his frustration and need growing exponentially with every day you had him wait. but not to worry, now you'd be a good girl and pay for your mistakes.

"please ‘k-kuna it’s too much" you moaned, desperately digging your nails into the hard flesh of his arms wrapped around your thighs. he had just started and you were already whining pathetically, drowning in the overstimulating sensation. he flicked your clit with his thick tongue, sending a shiver of pleasure through your core. "nngh- please" you mewled again, unable to keep your whiny protests to yourself. he dragged his tongue up and down the soft flesh around your clit, the metal balls on the ends of his piercings only adding on to the already intoxicating sensation of being eaten out like this. "stop fuckin’ whining" he said with a grunt of displeasure, continuing to flick your clit despite your pathetic defiance. the man wanted to eat and you weren't letting him do it peacefully.

you felt his teeth graze over your clit lightly before he bit down, a cry tearing free from your throat. "w-what was that for?" you asked breathlessly, looking down at him with the cutest little frown on your face. "for being such a fuckin' brat. you can't seem to shut up can you?" he growled in response, locking eyes with you, his tone both erotic and angry. " 'm sorry 's just too much" you mumbled in between shaky breaths. he had you wrapped around his finger, that was for sure— and he would bend and break you as he much as he desired. he moved his tongue down to your dripping hole, lapping up your slick like a fucking dog. you mewled softly, feeling another flutter of arousal settle deep in your core. the still foreign sensation of his tongue piercings dragging across your skin had you trembling with uncontrollable need.

nothing brought sukuna more satisfaction than seeing you in this fucked out state. head thrown back, thighs clenching against his head, hands digging into the hard, muscular flesh of his bare chest behind you. it was truly a sight worth seeing. a moan escaped your parted lips as he stuck his pierced tongue inside you, exploring every inch of your tight, dripping, wet cunt. he licked quickly and desperately, as though it was his last time getting a taste of what your sweet heaven felt like. because we all know that heaven was not where sukuna really belonged.

you felt him ease his grip on your thighs and pull his tongue out momentarily, "go on, ride my face princess, 'n ride it well", he said in a hoarse voice, his breath ragged. "y-yes 'kuna" you mumbled, hearing him inhale sharply before his tongue was back inside you, relishing in the sweet, sweet taste of your pussy. your head fell forward, and before you knew it you were grabbing the sheets above his head with one hand, while clutching onto his soft, pink, disheveled strands with the other. you began to roll your hips slowly, finally earning a groan of approval from him.

and that's how it went on for the next little while. he squeezed orgasm after orgasm out of you, making you moan, whimper and cry. oh yes, to sukuna, it wasn't good sex until he made you cry. "p-please can't, n-no more 'kuna, no m-more" you stammered, chest heaving from your shallow breaths, slowing your hips down to a stop. oh but he didn't like that. no, even on top of his face you weren't in control. he spanked you, and you felt a familiar sharp sting settle in the soft flesh of your ass. "slow down again and you won't leave this room alive" he threatened before continuing. no, sukuna wasn't very nice but, the thrill of his threat was enough to quickly send your sore hip muscles moving again. he bit you, sucked you and licked you so raw, your poor pussy lips were all puffy from the harsh treatment.

you rode out until you felt your pulse quicken and your thighs twitch from the overexertion. you let go for a third time, toes curling as your sweet cum spilled out of you, and all over his face. you tumbled to the side, falling flat onto the bed beside him. "ah ah, you know the rules" he purred, pulling your limp body onto your knees and moving across the bed, leaning his back up against the headboard. your vision was blurry from the salty tears in your eyes and your brain was so fucked out—you couldn't even think straight, but you knew better than to disobey him.

you slowly moved to the edge of the bed, watching him through glossy, half lidded eyes as you began to crawl across it towards him. you stopped in front of his chest, kneeling in between his big thighs as you began kitten licking your sweet and salty cum off his chin, moving your tongue slowly up to his cheeks, then his nose and finishing off with his lips. "good girl" he whispered deeply against your lips before dragging his wet, pierced tongue across them. you whimpered softly, cut off by him capturing your lips in a rough, wet kiss. get ready, because this night was far from over. he may have gotten his sweet taste of your heaven, little kitty, but now it was his turn to show you what hell truly felt like.

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5

Summary: After an accidental Freudian slip in bed with your husband, you and Joel agree to take a step back. Boundaries are drawn, lines are reinforced—but the damage is done, and even the strongest of willpower can't keep you apart.

|| smut MDNI 18+, little bit of angst there too, starting to not really be able to say this isn't cheating anymore yikes, dirty talk, pinv, riding, breeding kink, no outbreak, little bit of action with Tommy (f!receiving oral) Joel Miller is starting to catch feeeeelingssss ruh roh || notes: oh boy oh boy did I get secondhand embarrassment from this one. I think my eyes might start bleeding if I try rereading this again so plz lmk of any errors

Tommy had always been good to you. Patient, eager to please. He took his time, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs, mouth dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner leg like he was savoring you. Like he loved you. And he did. Maybe that was the problem.

Because love wasn’t the same thing as knowing.

He wanted you to feel good, of course he did—but there was something hesitant about it, something careful. Like he was trying to do right by you instead of wreck you. Like he was holding back.

His tongue traced a path through your folds, licking and eating and suckling everywhere except where you needed him most. You squirmed, hips pushing up into his mouth, searching for that right spot, just a little higher, to the left…

You hummed when his nose nudged your clit, eyes fluttering shut, and what you didn’t mean to do was picture another man with the last name Miller instead of the one between your legs.

But you did.

And you didn’t picture patience. You pictured hunger.

Joel had devoured you, consumed you like he’d been starved for it, like he would’ve died if he didn’t get his mouth on you, inside you. He hadn’t wasted a second searching—he knew exactly where to touch, exactly how to work you open, like he’d memorized your body before he even had his hands on it. And God, those hands. The way they parted your thighs like the sea, fingers digging deep like they belonged there, like they were meant to bruise.

And his filthy, sinful mouth—

That voice, rough and low as he’d murmured against your soaked skin, coaxing you through every little whimper and gasp, urging you to let go, just one more, pretty girl, gimme another. You’d come on his tongue again and again until you could barely breathe, until you were trembling, until he finally, finally let you rest.

Tommy just didn’t do things like that. 

Tommy felt like warmth, like comfort, like the hands of a man who wanted to love you—but not the hands of a man who understood you.

And maybe that was why you didn’t even hear yourself when it slipped out–

“Joel–”

And then there was silence.

Thick and suffocating, pressing against your ears, your chest, your ribs.

Tommy had stopped. You barely registered it at first—so lost in your own head, in the whiplash of pleasure and horror—until you felt the absence of his mouth, the cool air licking over your slick skin. He had frozen in place, his breath still warm against your thigh, but he wasn’t moving.

And then, slowly, achingly, he sat back.

You didn’t want to look at him.

Didn’t want to see the way his brow furrowed, his mouth parted like he was going to say something but didn’t quite know how.

Didn’t want to see the way his hands flexed against your legs before he let go of you completely and sat back on the pillows beside you.

The space between you suddenly felt massive.

“Oh, God,” you croaked, your stomach bottoming out. “Oh, Tommy, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

You scrambled, heat clawing up your throat, shame like a hand around your neck. “It was just—my head was all over the place, I wasn’t thinking, I—I swear I didn’t mean it, Tommy, I—”

“Stop.”

It wasn’t angry. If it was, maybe it would’ve been easier. Maybe you could’ve handled that.

But it was quiet. Resigned.

Tommy exhaled, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. You wished he hadn’t.

Because there it was. Not fury. Not disgust. Hurt. Disappointment.

“I, uh…” He let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh. Like he couldn’t believe it. “I guess I should’ve seen this comin’.”

Your pulse stuttered. “Tommy, no—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand, stopping you again. “I knew this wasn’t gonna be easy,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “Knew feelings could get mixed up. Thought we could have rules and make it simple.” A humorless chuckle, a shake of his head. “Jesus.”

You swallowed thickly, throat raw. “I love you, Tommy.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and something inside of him cracked. He nodded, reaching for you, letting you lay your head on his chest. “I know.” But when you looked up, his jaw tightened, his fingers curling into loose fists. “I just—I see the way you two are lately.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his voice softened. “You and Joel.”

Your breath caught.

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “There’s just…this energy between you. Always has been, I guess, but now…” He huffed out another short, mirthless laugh, shaking his head again. “Shit, I don’t even think you two see it. Not fully.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

Maybe you had seen it. Felt it. Maybe you’d been feeling it since the very first time, but you had locked it up, shoved it down, willed it away because you loved Tommy. Because you had made a choice.

Hadn’t you?

Tommy sighed, rubbing at his temple. “I just wanted a family with you.” His voice was thick, hoarse, like he was forcing the words through gravel. “More than anything.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I still do.”

You blinked hard, nodding, hands trembling as you reached for him. “And we will, Tommy, we—”

The arm he had around you stiffened, fingers twitching as you touched him. 

“That’s the thing, though,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “We’re sittin’ here, prayin’ for somethin’ to take, prayin’ for this baby—and when I picture it…” He trailed off, shaking his head, letting out a breath that sounded defeated.

Your stomach twisted. “Tommy.”

He blinked down, eyes focused on the blankets. “When I picture it,” he repeated, slower this time, like he was barely holding himself together, “I dunno if I see me anymore.”

It felt like a gut punch.

His jaw flexed, something breaking in his voice. “I knew it might get messy with Joel. Knew we might have to separate things in our heads, that you’d be spendin’ time with him, that it’d be—” His breath shuddered. “That it’d be him touchin’ you, not me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his fingers tightening. “I thought I could let it slide if it made you happy.”

Tommy’s words still hung heavy in the air, thick as smoke, curling in the space between you.

But you wouldn’t let them settle. Because he was wrong.

You let out a slow breath against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your cheek, the familiar warmth of him. Then, with purpose, you pushed yourself up, sitting back on your heels, straddling his lap. Your hands pressed against his bare skin, grounding you both as you looked down at him—really looked at him.

“Listen to me.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. His eyes flicked up, wary but locked onto yours. “If this works—if we have this baby—that’s ours, Tommy. Yours and mine.” You shook your head, fingers tightening slightly where they rested against him. “Not Joel’s. Ours.”

His jaw tensed, something flickering behind his eyes. You didn’t let him look away.

“I love you,” you continued, voice unwavering. “I chose you. I choose you.” You swallowed, feeling the weight of every word. “Yeah, it’s gonna be weird at first, but this—this is about us, not him.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching against your thighs. “I just…” He hesitated, looking up at you, searching. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You’re not,” you said instantly. “You won’t.”

His hands slid up, gripping your hips now, solid and warm, like he needed to feel you, to believe you. His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, his grip tightened.

You felt the shift in him before you saw it. The way his body responded to yours, the way his fingers curled into your skin, grounding himself in you.

His eyes darkened just slightly, flickering down to your lips before dragging back up, searching your face.

You leaned in first.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was deep, tender, his breath hot against your mouth as he surged up, pulling you down, swallowing the last remnants of doubt between you. His hands traveled, skimming up your back, one sliding into your hair, the other gripping your waist like he needed to feel every inch of you, needed to remember.

A soft sound slipped from your throat as you shifted against him, the hard press of his body undeniable beneath you. The heat between you burned away the uncertainty, leaving only this.

His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, as if reclaiming you, as if reminding you—you were his.

His grip tightened. Then, with a rumbling deep in his chest, he flipped you onto your back.

And for a second—just a split second—your mind flickered back to the last time someone had pinned you down like this.

You shoved the thought away, sealing yourself in this moment. In him.

Because you had made your choice.

Hadn’t you?

The tile shop smelled of fresh-cut stone, sawdust clinging faintly to the air beneath the sharp scent of industrial cleaner as you browsed the samples. 

Joel walked beside you, giving you advice on the best materials for the bathroom remodel. He fit in here, comfortable among the stacks of flooring samples, the thick catalogs of material swatches, the talk of grout and durability. 

When you reached the section of colorful tiles to pick from, he grabbed a copy of Home Building magazine from a nearby shelf in his hands, flipping through it absently as he leaned a hip against the counter of the showroom.

“So, you gonna tell me why Tommy was bitin’ my head off yesterday on a job?” His voice was rough but casual, like he wasn’t too concerned.

You blinked, stalling mid-step by the tile wall. “Huh?”

Joel looked up at you, gaze darkening like he thought you were playing dumb. “Was layin’ into me about every little thing. Usually, I can take one or two from ‘im—ya know, messin’ around, shootin’ the shit.” He flipped another page, shaking his head. “But this was different. Something got under his skin.” Then, content, he shut the catalog, setting it down on the counter and tilting his head.

Your stomach twisted. You dropped your gaze, fingers grazing over the veins in a slab of white marble, tracing the golden and brown threads weaving through the cool surface. The crisp, clean lines blurred as your thoughts ran too fast, searching for a way to frame this—if there even was one.

Joel called your name, and you hesitated before looking at him, only to drop your gaze just as fast, settling on his boots instead of his face.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice came softer this time, a low murmur. He stepped toward you, his presence shifting the air around you, pulling tighter.

“I, uh…” Your lips pressed into a thin line. The words felt jagged in your throat, difficult to shape. “I may have screwed up.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “Oh?”

“The other night, Tommy and I…we were…” You flicked your eyes to his, then around to check your surroundings before lowering your voice. “Ya know.”

Joel gave a slow nod, urging you to continue.

“And at one point… I was just trying to get myself there, ya know, I was close but couldn’t quite manage to…” You sucked in a deep breath, your skin prickling with heat. “I said your name.”

His frown deepened, forehead creasing, but he didn’t say anything—didn’t seem to fully understand yet.

You swallowed, heart drumming hard. “I said your name, Joel. Instead of his. Instead of my husband’s.”

Realization crawled over his face, slow, dawning. A flush crept along the tips of his ears, darkening the already pink hue to his skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit is right,” you muttered, turning back to the tiles, though the intricate veins of marble couldn’t hold your focus.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “This has gone too far,” he mumbled. “We can’t keep… this is too messy.”

You nodded, though it barely felt like agreement when there was a lump growing in your throat, thick and suffocating.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

The air outside was crisp, the sun starting to dip just enough to soften the light when you finished up with the tiles. You adjusted the weight of samples in your arms, stepping toward Joel’s truck.

Joel walked beside you, quiet. He’d been quiet ever since you left the showroom, brooding and only giving answers when needed, only talking to the salesman about the projects he was working on. 

You grabbed the handle of the passenger door to open it—

But before you could, his hand shot out, slamming it shut again.

You startled, jerking slightly as his palm flattened firm against the metal. The space between you shrank, the air suddenly heavier as you turned to face him.

Your pulse skipped. “Joel?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Just kept his hand there, his jaw tight, something unreadable pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Then, after a moment, he swallowed, inhaled deep through his nose, and said, “I’m only gonna say this once.”

Your stomach tightened.

Joel turned his head just slightly, gaze flicking to you beneath furrowed brows. His voice was low, measured, but careful. So careful. It didn’t match the weight of his words.

“And then never again,” he murmured. “You hear me?”

You nodded, barely breathing anymore.

Joel inhaled again, like he was bracing himself. Then, finally, “My head’s all messed up over this,” he admitted, voice low, gravel-rough. “I ain’t been right since the first time. Since you.”

Your stomach clenched. Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his mouth, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “Tried to put it away, pretend it don’t mean anythin’. Tried to tell myself it’s just sex, just a favor, just somethin’ to get you and Tommy what you want—”

He huffed a short, bitter laugh, gaze flicking away for a second before finding yours again.

“But it ain’t just that. Not for me.”

Heat bloomed beneath your skin, thick and suffocating.

Joel’s fingers flexed against the truck door. His jaw tensed. “I ain’t been with anyone else since this started.” He let the words settle, let them sink in. “Haven’t even wanted to.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He shook his head again, his voice getting rougher, rawer, the truth scraping its way out of him. “And now I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Can’t stop wonderin’ how you’re gonna sound, how you’re gonna feel every time I close my damn eyes. Can’t stop picturin’ you in my bed.” His breath shuddered. “I can’t even fuckin’ touch myself without seein’ you.”

You felt something tighten low in your stomach, sharp and unbearable.

His voice dipped, low and ragged. “And I—” He stopped himself, swallowing thickly before murmuring, almost like a confession, “I like it too much to want to stop. But we have to.”

Your chest rose and fell faster, your pulse hammering as your fingers twitched toward him. The storm of feelings in your head was screaming at you to stop reaching out to touch him. You couldn’t help it. Your body moved, closed in, your eyes dragging over his face before landing on his lips.

How could you feel like this?

How could you want two men at once? How could you look Tommy in the eyes, tell him you loved him, tell him you chose him, and then stand here now—your body tilting toward Joel like you didn’t have a choice in the matter? But the truth was, you had never chosen this. You had never asked for this. It had crept up on you in stolen moments, in the space between duty and desire, in the unspoken, in the way Joel knew you without even trying.

He was so close. So warm.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You had always loved Tommy differently. Steady, safe, the warmth of something real and tangible, the kind of love that built a future. But Joel? Joel was something else entirely. He was unshakable—a presence that settled deep in your bones, that lived in the quiet parts of you, the places you had never let anyone else see. He was the ache in your stomach when his voice dropped too low, the heat in your chest when he looked at you just a second too long, the part of you that had been unraveling since the first night his hands had been on you.

The lines between them were blurred now, bleeding into one another, and you were standing in the middle of it, grasping at both of them, unsure which one would steady you first.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising beneath your palm, the warmth of him soaking into your skin like he belonged there.

And then, just as you began closing the distance between you, Joel pulled away.

His hand shot up, covering yours, pressing it firmly against his chest for just a second before peeling it away.

His head shook once. “No,” he said, rough. “We can’t.”

Your stomach dropped. His gaze met yours, full of something aching and raw, but his next words were firm.

“I won’t do that to Tommy. We said we wouldn’t let it get messy.”

Your throat bobbed, “Joel…”

He shook his head again, jaw tight as he released you, stepping back like he had to. Like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to. A humorless huff of breath left his mouth before he said, “Already broke two rules, didn’t we?”

And when you didn’t reply, he shook his head and opened your door, “Get in the truck.”

The drive back was quiet.

Not the easy kind, not the peaceful kind—it was the kind that sat heavy between you, thick and charged, the kind where every breath felt too loud, where neither of you dared to fill the silence because what the hell was there even left to say?

Joel kept his hands on the wheel, his fingers flexing against the worn leather grip, his gaze fixed on the road like if he looked at you for even a second too long, he might crack.

You kept your hands in your lap, fidgeting and trying to ignore the way your skin still burned where he had touched you—where he had stopped touching you.

The truck rumbled as he pulled up in front of your house, tires crunching over gravel. He shifted into park but didn’t kill the engine. Didn’t move.

You turned to him, clearing your throat, “Next week, for your birthday–”

Joel’s knuckles flexed against the steering wheel, “What about it–”

“Tommy and I want to have you over,” you said simply. “I’m cookin’ steaks. There’ll be cake and the whole nine.”

His head turned slightly, brow furrowing. “What? Why?”

“I want—” You stopped yourself, pulse skipping before you corrected, “We want to. It’s just dinner, Joel. If not for me, for him. For Sarah. Just a regular family dinner.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You remember what happened the last time you hosted one of them?”

His lips twitched at the corners, and for the first time since the tile shop, the tension cracked, just a little.

Your shoulders sagged slightly in relief, and for a second, things felt normal again. But then his gaze found yours. And just like that, the moment was gone.

For a second, you thought he might refuse. That he’d tell you it was a bad idea, that it was too much, that after everything that had happened, sitting at the same dinner table with you would be the last thing he wanted.

But he didn’t. Instead, he let out a slow breath, eyes flicking away like he was trying to find an argument and coming up empty.

Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

Your chest loosened. “Good. Be here at six.”

You reached for the handle, pushing the door open, stepping out into the cool evening air. The truck door creaked as you turned back, gripping the edge of it for just a second longer than necessary.

Joel wasn’t watching you, just staring forward at your house, the glow of golden hour drenching everything in a deep orange.

“And Joel?” 

His eyes turned to see you, like he had just pulled himself from a deep thought, “...Hm?”

Your lips parted, and you took a slow breath, steadying yourself, forcing your tone to be calm, deliberate, heavier than anything else you could’ve said.

“Fuck those rules.”

You slammed the door shut before he could say another word.

The dinner went fine.

Really, it did.

Sure, there was tension, but it stayed beneath the surface, stitched up neatly between polite smiles and easy conversation. You played your part well—a good wife, a good sister-in-law, a good aunt to Sarah.

She didn’t need to know how messy things had gotten, how tangled things had become between the most important people in her life. She laughed when you teased her about school, rolled her eyes at her dad’s bad jokes, and beamed when Tommy ruffled her hair like he always did. Normal.

Joel did the same. Sat across from you at the dinner table, calm, collected, focused on his plate like the steak needed his full attention. He spoke when he had to, laughed when it was natural, let Tommy rib him about finally letting himself be celebrated for once. If anyone had been watching closely, they’d say he was fine.

But you caught him looking.

You weren’t sure if it was just a ‘he glanced at you at the same time you glanced at him’ kind of thing, awkward and just coincidence. But it happened too often for that. His eyes dragged over your face for a second too long when you passed him a dish. His fingers would flex around his beer bottle when Sarah chatted to you about soccer. He sat back in his chair at one point, fingers tapping idly against his thigh, gaze slipping to your mouth before he forced himself to look away. 

And then later, when you were singing him an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday—Sarah belting, Tommy grinning, and Joel blushing crimson with a hand over his face—you saw the way the candlelight flickered in his eyes.

“Make a wish!” Sarah exclaimed as the song died down.

Joel leaned forward, jaw tight, hands moving to brace against the edge of the table. The room quieted, waiting. And just as he was about to blow them out… He looked at you.

It was quick, a flick of his eyes, a second too long, a beat too heavy. But it was enough. Enough to make your breath hitch, enough to send something sharp and aching down your spine.

Like whatever was running through his head had everything to do with you and nothing to do with wishing for more wishes.

Then the candles went out.

Cheers from Tommy and Sarah filled the room, shattering the moment, breaking the thread stretched too tight. You quickly joined the raucous applauding and Joel sat back, shaking his head when Sarah asked What’d you wish for, Dad?

He didn’t answer.

And you didn’t need him to.

Dinner went fine.

You had been halfway through folding laundry when a knock came at the door a few days later. It was sharp, impatient–a knock that made your stomach tighten before you even reached it.

And as you opened the door, you couldn’t help the surprise on your face when you saw him.

His dark hair was mussed, a mess of waves from a long day’s work, damp strands clinging to his temples. His shirt was stained and sweat-damp at the collar, fabric sticking to the broad stretch of his chest, fresh smudges of dirt and grease painting his skin like he hadn’t even stopped to clean up.

His breath was uneven, shallow, like he had rushed here, like he had spent the whole damn day working through something only to find himself on your doorstep.

“Joel?” you began, looking around for your husband’s truck, “Where’s Tommy?”

“Sent him to talk to the concrete guys.” His voice was rough, like he wasn’t sure he should be here—but he came anyway.

Silence stretched between you, thick and humming. He hadn’t stepped inside, and you didn’t make a move either. 

Finally, he took a deep breath, “Did you mean it?”

You blinked at him, confused.

“When you said fuck the rules.”

Your stomach flipped into your chest, your heart beginning to thunder in your throat. His eyes stayed on you, dark and searching, waiting, almost pleading.

“Yes,” you finally said, voice cracking.

He lunged.

His hands found your face, fingers cupping your jaw with such tenderness that contrasted his need, tilting your head up as his lips crashed into yours—hot, feverish, desperate. You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed it down, kissing you like he had been starving for it, like he had spent days, hell, months holding himself back only to break now, to let it consume him whole.

You molded together like this wasn’t the first time but the thousandth, like your lips had already memorized the shape of one another, though the heat and the desperate way you clung to him told a different story. Your hands twisted in the worn cotton of his shirt, pulling, yanking, tearing it over his head, arms snaking around his neck as he pushed you back. You only heard the click of the lock as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Your spine hit the wall with a dull thud, and he barely paused. He only stopped to pull your shirt over your head, discarding it like it was nothing before pressing his body flush to yours.

You felt everything–the heat of his skin. The rough scrape of his jeans. The hard, thick press of him between your legs. But it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just the way he fit against you, the way he felt. It was how hungry he was.

How he touched you like he was mapping you out by memory, hands skimming over your ribs, splaying over your waist before dipping lower, gripping your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. He hoisted you up like it was nothing, like you belonged there.

Your legs locked around his hips, his hands gripping tight beneath you, holding you up, holding you still, pressing you harder into the unyielding wall behind you.

“I’ve wanted to kiss these perfect, sweet lips for so goddamn long,” he breathed, his voice low, wrecked, nearly shaking.

A sound caught in your throat—half gasp, half moan—as Joel kissed you again, deeper, rougher, claiming every inch of your mouth like he wasn’t ever going to stop.

His body was unrelenting, his grip unyielding, his hands moving—always moving, like he couldn’t touch enough of you at once. One held tight to your thigh, pulling you tighter against him, the other sliding up your spine, fingers curling into your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tip back, exposing more of your throat to him. 

And he took it. Mouth dragging lower, teeth grazing, lips parting, sucking, tasting.

Your hands were everywhere—gripping his shoulders, clawing at his back, desperate, needy, as he ground into you, hips pressing tight between your thighs, and suddenly there was no air left between you at all.

There was only heat, hands, breath, and want.

And Joel. Only Joel.

His grip tightened, fingers flexing where they held you, keeping you locked against him, and then he was moving—pulling you with him, dragging you away from the wall like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you for even a second.

Your hands twisted into his hair, keeping him close, lips still fused as he carried you across the room, each step heavy, deliberate, every inch of you pressed against him.

Then, suddenly, your back hit the couch.

The cushions dipped beneath you as Joel settled you down, kneeling between your legs, breath coming short, hands already at your waistband, already pulling, already seeking more.

Your eyes flicked open just as his fingers curled into the denim, but you stopped him.

Your hands covered his, stilling him, and for the first time tonight, Joel froze. His chest rose and fell sharply, his knuckles flexing beneath your touch, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you whispered.

He didn’t move, you weren’t even sure if he was breathing. He only watched you, pupils blown wide, his jaw tight, like he was caught between disbelief and surrender.

You pushed up, slowly, deliberately, until you were eye level with him, until your mouth was brushing against his again, tongues sliding, teeth nipping, pulling another wrecked sound from deep in his throat. You moaned into him, hands dragging over the planes of his chest before pushing him back, turning him toward the couch.

You stood before him, slow and measured, fingers hooking into your waistband.

Joel’s throat bobbed, his eyes dragging down your bare chest, lower, blazing as they followed your hands, as they lingered where your fingers began pushing your pants down. His breath came rough, unsteady.

"Go on, baby," he rasped, voice wrecked, thick fingers gripping the couch. "Take ‘em off. Show me what’s mine."

You smiled coyly, dragging your shorts down agonizingly slow, and once they were discarded, Joel immediately sat up, hands grabbing for you, fingers spreading wide over your thighs like he couldn’t bear to not touch you another second.

One hand traveled up, dragging from the inside of your knee to the damp heat between your legs, where the lace of your panties was practically soaked through already.

His fingers curled, a low, rough chuckle slipping from his throat as his thumb pressed into your panty clad center, just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch.

"These are cute," he murmured, teasing, and then leaned forward, his mouth finding your hip bone, lips dragging over soft skin, kissing and teasing. His fingers stayed firm, still gripping your thigh as his teeth scraped over the soft flesh of your stomach. His lips traveled lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses into the fabric as it sat just over your thigh, catching the delicate lace between his teeth.

And then he bit down. And ripped them straight off.

"Joel!!" you screeched, your body lurching forward, grabbing at his shoulders, breath knocking out of you at the sheer force of him.

He hummed, satisfied, palming your ass, still gripping you like he wasn’t finished yet.

"Think I’ll keep ‘em," he mused, voice deep, smug, his free hand stuffing the ruined lace into his back pocket.

Your breath heaved out of you, body buzzing as you giggled, shaking your head and climbing on top of his lap, “You are so bad,”

Joel just grinned, hands firm on your cheeks, guiding you, pulling you closer as you sat down on his lap.

The rough grit of denim met your bare center, and the friction sent a sharp pulse of heat through your core. You shivered, sensitive, every nerve ending alight as you rolled your hips down onto him. Joel sucked in a breath, his fingers flexing where they gripped your thighs, but he didn’t push you down, didn’t move to take over, even though you could feel how badly he wanted to. He was holding back, letting you have this moment, letting you grind against the thick press of him as slick coated the seam of his jeans, your body aching for more.

"Help me get these off?" he muttered, voice low, thick, barely in control. His hands stayed on your thighs as you reached down, fingers fumbling with his belt, the clatter of the buckle mixing with your heavy breathing.

With shaking fingers, you dragged the zipper down, the sound barely louder than the ragged breaths filling the room. He lifted his hips, only releasing you to shove his jeans down to his knees, hissing through his teeth as his cock sprang free, thick and hot, the head already glistening.

The breath of relief he let out was cut short as your fingers wrapped around him, slow, deliberate, dragging along his length just to watch his face twist in pleasure. His whole body tensed beneath you, jaw clenched tight, chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he let you stroke him, let you feel every hard inch of him. His cock twitched in your grip, heat pooling between your thighs at the sheer size of him, the way he pulsed in your hand, the way his fingers dug into your skin, like he was fighting to keep himself from flipping you over and slamming you into the couch right then and there.

"Next time," you whispered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear, voice dripping with promise, "you're at least gonna let me suck your cock. Deal?"

A sound ripped from his throat, half-growl, half-moan, and his hand shot up, tangling in your hair, gripping hard as he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you deep, all tongue and teeth and hunger. His free hand slid down your back, rough fingertips dragging over heated skin before gripping your ass, kneading, pulling you against him, pressing you flush to the heat of him.

"Next time," he muttered, voice thick, heavy, wrecked, "but if you don’t sit on my cock right now, I swear to God, I will flip you over and—"

You cut him off with a smirk, lifting yourself up just enough to run him through your soaked folds, teasing, coating him in you. His breath hitched, sharp, his grip tightening against your hips, his whole body going rigid beneath you.

"You’ll what now?" you teased, notching the head of his cock at your entrance.

The thickness of him was always overwhelming. No matter how many times you had taken him, no matter how much he stretched you, there was always that moment when your body had to adjust, had to accommodate the sheer size of him. You moaned as you sank down slowly, taking your time, feeling the slow, delicious stretch as he filled you inch by inch.

Joel's head fell back against the couch, brows furrowed, his lips parting around a broken groan as he let you take him, let you work yourself down onto him at your own pace. His fingers flexed against your waist, gripping tight, sure to leave bruises, but he didn’t force you down, didn’t rush, just let you feel it, let you savor the way he filled you completely.

"Goddamn," he gritted out, voice strained, body trembling with restraint, "takin’ me so well, baby. Fuck, just like that."

You whimpered, nails dragging across his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as your body stretched around him. He felt impossibly deep, hitting that spot inside you that only he knew, that made your whole body tense, made your breath catch, made your mind blank as you sank down, down, down, until your ass pressed into his thighs.

Joel let you have a moment to adjust, chest heaving, his hands dragging up your sides, fingertips trailing over the swell of your breasts before sliding back down to grip your hips, strong, steady, grounding. And then, just when you thought you could start moving, he gripped you tighter and thrust up into you, sharp and deep.

Your gasp broke into a moan, your head tilting back as the sensation sent heat flooding through your core. His grip tightened, his pace rough and demanding as he fucked up into you, his hips meeting yours in quick, brutal strokes, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"That what you needed?" he grunted, his voice a low growl, his hands guiding you now, forcing you to ride him, making you take it.

Your whole body was burning, desperate, aching as you rocked against him, every stroke pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His teeth dragged along your throat, lips and tongue soothing the marks he left behind, hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples as he groaned into your skin.

"Love watchin’ you like this," he murmured, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your neck, "been dreamin’ of this–you bouncin’ on my cock, lettin’ me ruin you. Such a good girl for me, huh?"

“Yes, Joel, yes–”

You clenched around him, your body tightening in response, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

"Fuck, baby, you gonna come for me? Already?”

No. Not yet. Not yet, because this moment was too much, too big, and you wanted to feel every second of it. But he needed to know. He needed to.

He slowed down so his thumb could press against your clit, slow, teasing, deliberate, and your whole body jerked, oversensitive, and barely holding on.

“Joel,” you whispered.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low rasp, breathless, wrecked as his half hooded eyes gazed up at you.

Your hands slid up to his neck, playing with the nape of his hair as you tried to find the words.

"I—" you swallowed hard, heart hammering as you tried to catch your breath. "I took a test this morning."

Joel stilled. The gentle teasing of his thumb stopped. His hips halted.

Everything stopped.

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted, completely still beneath you. "What?"

“I’m pregnant,” you said, biting your lip as you gauged his reaction.

His hands spread wide across your waist, fingers pressing tight, thumbs tracing slow, reverent circles. Then, lowering, splaying over your stomach.

"Carryin’ my baby in there, huh?"

Your heart skipped.

"Joel…"

But suddenly, you weren’t in control anymore. You’re not sure you ever were to begin with. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in, holding you so tight against his chest that there was nowhere to go, no space between you at all. His muscles flexed, his grip firm, and then he drove up into you, his cock punching so deep you felt the thick, unrelenting stretch of him in your stomach.

You gasped, body jerking against him, the sudden force of it making your breath catch as pleasure cracked through you like a whip.

"Fuck," he groaned, the sound raw, guttural, his head tipping back for a split second before he resumed his hungry kisses to your flesh.

He thrust up hard, sharp, thick heat dragging along your walls, stretching you open, making you take every inch. The press of him was almost unbearable, every push hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble and your moans break apart into sharp, breathless whimpers.  

"You’re carrying my baby." he groaned into your skin.

"Joel!" you screeched, head tilting back, body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth found your throat, biting, sucking, marking. His cock dragged through your slick, gliding easy but so thick, so deep, pressing right up against that sweet spot over and over again.

But still—you hadn’t said it.

And Joel knew it.

He slowed, hips dragging deep, deliberate, making you feel all of him, every thick inch stretching you open.

"You can say whatever you want," he murmured, voice low, rough, thick with something dark and heavy. His hands slid up your back, pulled you closer, his lips brushing over your ear.

"But who's been fillin’ you up every month, huh?"

He rolled his hips up slow, so deep, and you whimpered, clenching down around him.

"Who’s been fuckin’ you until you see stars? Who’s made you come on his cock over and over again, baby?"

His voice turned gravelly, filthy, absolute sin.

"Sure as hell ain’t my baby brother."

Your whole body trembled, on edge, breaking apart, so close to coming, but he wouldn’t give you what you needed.

"Say it," Joel demanded, his grip tightening around you,

Your lips parted, a whimper slipping out, but nothing came.

He growled, snapping his hips hard, making you cry out.

"Say whose baby this is."

You were right there, right on the edge, pleasure coiled so tight you could barely breathe.

"Say it, and I’ll let you come on my cock again."

Your whole body shook, thighs trembling, head tilting back as the words finally tore from your lips.

"It’s yours, Joel," you gasped, the words breaking, desperate, ruined. "It’s yours—fuck—"

His breath hitched, sharp, ragged, completely wrecked.

"That’s right."

He pulled you against him just right so you were grinding into him, your clit catching on the patch of curly dark hair at the base of his cock where your hips met. The moan that left your throat was downright obscene as you felt the pleasure shock through you. 

His hands moved to grip your hips so tight it was bruising, his mouth crushing against yours, teeth dragging over your bottom lip, his pace wild, desperate, unstoppable as he dragged you against him again and again. 

"You’re mine," he groaned, voice breaking, fucking into you with everything he had, filling you over and over, relentless. "My baby. My girl. My fuckin’ perfect girl, carryin’ my baby."

"Joel!" you screamed, your whole body locking up, pleasure ripping through you like fire, waves of heat curling, crashing, drowning you.

"That’s it," he rasped, feeling you tighten around him, feeling you break for him as your clit kept rubbing perfectly against his pelvis, sending shockwaves through you as he held you through your climax. "That’s it, my good girl, gonna fill you up again, baby, gonna take it? Gonna take my come again?"

“Yes, Joel, yes, yes, yes,” you blubbered, clinging to him.  

And then, with a rough, broken groan, Joel buried himself deep, pressing flush, full, spilling inside you, filling you completely. 

Your whole body continued to tremble as you both caught your breath. Your thighs were shaking, limbs weak and boneless as you sprawled over him, completely spent, completely ruined. Your heartbeat was thunderous, hammering in your ears, every nerve ending still shivering from the aftershocks.

His hands were still gripping your hips, tight, possessive, unmoving, holding you flush to him, keeping you there with him. His head was tipped back against the couch, chest rising and falling fast, lips parted as he caught his breath, his skin hot and damp beneath your palms.

Slowly, reality began creeping back in.

Your fingers traced mindlessly over his broad shoulders, the damp curls at the nape of his neck, still coming down, still floating in the hazy, fucked-out warmth of it all.

Joel’s grip softened, his hands sliding up your back, slow, lazy strokes over sweat-slick skin. His breath was still uneven when he finally muttered, voice wrecked and hoarse, “Christ…made me lose my damn mind there for a minute.”

You huffed a quiet laugh against his shoulder, still not ready to move, still too high from everything. But you lifted yourself up just slightly so your forehead pressed to his, nudging your nose against his, his lips grazing, teasing, kissing you slow and deep.

And then you looked up as movement caught the corner of your eye.

And froze.

Everything in you turned to ice.

Because standing in the doorway, staring at the two of you, was Tommy.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma

[sugarverse]

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.2k

mentions of: yeah its just sex,, uhhhh ya get together at the end but it’s pretty vanilla and i think this might be one of my fav writings for iida so far ehehehe this story was so fun to make. I plan on making a pt.3 and I’m going to postttt soon idk :P

part one

moodboard here!

You tied a cute bow in the belt of your robe once more, walking over to him and fixing the glasses on his oh so cherry red face. “Tenya..?” You ask, sitting on the side of the table next to him. You glance down at the sketch, seeing how far he had actually gotten. It was pretty impressive for someone who is a beginner when it comes to realism, or art itself really. “Do you want some help?”

His jaw was slack, staring up at you now that you were so much closer. Whatever perfume you had on almost made him faint, and there was nothing he could really formulate besides a very quiet, “Ex..excuse me?”

“I said, Do you want some help..?” You tease, leaning down so your faces were only a few inches from each other. You reach for his tie, slowly sliding your hand down his chest. “I wouldn't want you to fail just because your model was a distraction..” You lean closer, gripping the end of his tie as ruby eyes glancing down at your pretty plump lips.

Did you mean help help him, or draw it yourself? There was no way he was reading into this wrong, right? Did you see his hard-on the whole time?? He gave a long blink, trying to keep his head on straight. “I w..would love-” Before he could finish the sentence, you tug on the tie and press your lips against his. He melted into you, hands placing themselves onto your hips softly almost as if you’d break if he did touch you.

He had yearned for this for so long. There was no way you felt this way all this time and he never picked up on it. The thought only made him deepen the kiss, his hands moving to hold your face in his palms. You let his tie go with a smile, giggling at his eagerness to kiss you back. You place your hands on his shoulder, feeling him stand but refusing to let his lips leave yours. It felt like fireworks were going off around the two of you, only pulling away when you both needed the air.

Tenya was once again standing with crooked glasses, red faced, and this time slightly out of breath. “Y/n I.. Why didn’t.. How did I not..” He panted, after what was only a few seconds, he crashed his lips against yours before you could even respond to his stuttering. You whimpered in response, attempting to untie the tie the best you could with your eyes closed. He helped you, loosening it and letting his hands tangle themselves behind your head and into the kitchen of your hair the best he could. He just wanted you closer. Closer than he already was.

You pull away from him, feverishly leaving kissing along his sharp jawline. He sighed, hands going back to your waist patiently. He rubbed your sides up and down as you kissed down his neck, letting out a breathless whine at the missing feeling of your warm lips against his.

“Why haven't we ever k..kissed before now if this is how you ..f-felt..” He sucked in a sharp gasp once you kissed the right side of his neck. Bingo. You bit down on that spot listening to him groan in your ear, gripping your hips a little harder.

You open your legs slightly so he can stand between them, his body involuntarily pulling you towards the edge as he takes the step towards you. “Because I can't lose you.. I never thought you'd feel the same..” You mumble against his skin, leaving open mouthed kisses down to his collar before unbuttoning it.

You could feel the hard-on poke at your thigh, tauntingly moving to grind against him. After all, the silk of your robe was the only thing keeping him from well.. you. He ached, looking down at you with an almost heartbroken look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, I have wanted you for a very long time.. I know I can treat you better than anyone else out there y/n. It hurts so bad when you'd find someone else more interesting than me. I thought I was too..” He paused for a second, groaning as he grinded against you subconsciously. “A square, if you will.” He chuckled nervously at the admission, feeling you nipping at the most sensitive part of his neck as he let out soft moans and grumbles.

You pull away to look at him, fixing his glasses from earlier with a small giggle. “There's nothing wrong with liking books, or wanting to follow the rules..” Manicured hand began to unbutton his collar and down his shirt.

“And I just never thought you'd go for someone like me. I assumed you'd want a shy girl or somthin’.. I guess we really did make an ass out of u and me.” You tease, giggling once more at your own play on words. You stopped about halfway down his shirt unless this was too much. You didn't wanna be too pushy but God did you want to see those abs.

He let out a small laugh as well, staring down at your gorgeous lips. “I would have told you a lonnnng time ago, y/n. I'm sorry I didn't–” He started, feeling your finger press against his lips to stop him.

“We know now, don't we? Now we move forward.” You wrap your legs around his waist, watching him nod until you move your finger away. “How about I finally help you?” You run a hand down his chest, watching him shudder at the feeling of your acrylics.

He leaned over you, hands moving onto the table rather than on your hips. “If we're going to do anything, I want to do it the right way..” You wanted to pout at his response. He was right, being caught would be absolutely terrible for the both of you. I guess it wouldn't hurt to go back to one of your apartments and finish? Ugh but then the mood is different..

As the gears in your brain worked, Tenya still mindless pressing against you, began kissing you once more. You smile, coconut colored eyes following as he kisses your neck. This time looking for you to gasp or make some sort of noise. His lips smirked against your skin, kissing down to your shoulder and moving the robe off of it. He bit right between your neck and shoulder, causing you to squeal and grip onto his shirt.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling him kiss down to your collarbone. He guided a hand to unbutton the rest of his shirt, the other going back to resting on your waist. He made sure to kiss down the valley of your breasts, not breaking eye contact with you once had he looked up.

“May I?” He motioned to the robe, watching you quickly shrug the silk off of your other shoulder and pulling the tie of your belt. All he needed was to open it up completely. He chuckled at your quickness, letting it pull around your legs once again. He made sure to kiss both of your boobs, finishing with the unbuttoning of his shirt. He used that hand to pinch at your nip, putting the other in his mouth to suck on.

You arch your back into his touch, whimpering as you squeezed your legs around him in response. You could feel him smile, swapping to give your girls equal attention. He felt you buck at such simple actions, kissing down your navel and to where your robe pooled.

“You sound so sweet.. I need to taste you. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to go first baby,” You melted at the name, nodding hurriedly. He smiled, going onto his knees and scooping his arms under your knees. He pulled you to the edge, watching you jolt in surprise. You could feel your heart beating in more places than one. The entire time the only thing that had been covering you up was that flimsy piece of silk which he finally moved out of the way, staring down at you for a moment.

This obviously wasn’t the first time he’s been in a sexual situation, but he couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. You were so stunning.. ethereal even. He really didn’t mean to stare, not wanting you to think something was wrong or he was too scared. Just very much in love with the look of you. He finally breaks concentration, looking up at you with a small smile. “You promise this is okay?” He wanted to double check just in case you saw him as he saw himself.. God forbid you did.

“I promise.” You put your pinky out, watching him move his hand from your thigh to interlock his pinky with yours. Without any hesitation, he shoved his glasses up and opened your legs wider. He kissed your clit before starting to suck on it, crimson eyes staring up at you to see what he was doing well vs what you didn’t like as much. Your breathing hitched, hand going to take the glasses and set them on the table so you could grip onto his hair the correct way. You rut your hips towards him, staring down in awe.

He couldn’t help but stare back up at you, strong hands keeping your thighs pressed against his shoulders despite your involuntarily squirming. He swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves, hands gripping onto your thighs so he could be as close as possible. You tasted so sweet. Damn near sweeter than fruit, only making him want more. Flattening his tongue against you and going back to giving your sensitive spot hell.

You pulled at his navy blue hair, hands gripping onto him as you rode yourself against his tongue. Stuttering out praises through pants and moans, “Ffffuck.. tenya-ah!~” You squeak out, thighs beginning to shake from wanting to close. He slithered a hand from your thigh, teasingly tracing his index finger around your entrance. “Don’t t..tease me!” You leaned forward, hair falling around your shoulders as you looked down at him.

“Please please pl-ngh~!” Your begging was stopped by the feeling of two thick fingers sliding into you as he swirled his tongue around your clit some more. He made sure to curl them, feeling you clench around his fingers drove him insane. Thrusting his fingers into you even faster than his tongue was moving. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten. You couldn’t keep quiet even if you really wanted to. You were on another planet.

The face you made when you came could only be described as angelic to iida, he watched as you came undone around his lips. You laid your back against the table as he lapped it up. Almost liked someone dying of dehydration. He slowed his fingers down, sliding them out of you to lick his fingers clean. He lightly placed your legs back onto the table. “You taste divine, you know that?” He asked, unbuckling his belt and tossing his wallet on the table.

You blink up at him, panting and giggling. “I know now,” You stared up at him, messy haired and mouth wet as lustful but loving eyes stared down at you. You took a mental picture, biting your lip to hold back your happy giggles. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sliding the belt off and placing it on the chair behind him. “Let me,” You lean forward, unbuttoning his dress pants hurriedly and unzipping them. It ached being hard for so long, but as many times as he’s imagined this to play out, he was always going to make you feel good first.

“I need you, y/n..” He admitted almost in a whisper, reaching for his glasses so he could actually see you. You tug his pants down, letting out a small laugh to yourself at the red checkered underwear he wore before pulling them down as well. You assumed he’d be big, the man is 6 foot and built like a fucking unit.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to spring right in front of your face. There’s no way that can.. Well, Doesn’t matter if it fits or not. No way you’d miss the opportunity. He let out a chuckle, assumingly at your wide eyes.

“You have me,” You smile up at him with half lidded eyes, changing your expression quickly so you werent the one looking like a deer in headlights. You grab his cock with manicured nails, licking the precum from his tip before siding as much as you could into your throat.

His breath hitched, a small groan leaving his lips. “No sweetheart, I mean I need you. As much as.. I’d l..love you to,” He let out a breathless sigh filled with pleasure, head tilting back.

“Keep.. feeling your mouth, I need you. Awfully bad, I might a..add.” He struggled to speak, moans escaping his lips as he felt you take him completely down your throat for a moment. You pulled away with a pop, smiling up at him.

“Whatever you want, sir..” You tease, sitting up and putting your hands on his shoulders, slowly sliding them to his neck to cup his face. “Give me a few more kisses, huh mister?” You didn’t even have time to lean up, feeling his lips desperately go back to yours. You tangle your hands in his messy hair once more, feeling him lay you down gently.

He pulled your legs to the edge once more, listening to the squeak you let out as he subconsciously manhandled you. He looks over to the wallet he tossed on the table earlier, opening it to fish for a condom that he always carried around. Not that he ever thought he’d really use it.

“You don’t need one,” You see him quickly look at you as if you were insane, vermillion eyes studying your face. “I’m serious! If worse comes to worse I’ll stop by the pharmacy. I want us both to actually feel it..” You sit up once more, pretty brown eyes staring up at him pleadingly. You place a hand on his arm, which was enough for him to go standing right back in front of you.

“Are you sure, y/n? Absolutely positive?” He asked carefully, cock twitching at the cold air of the room. The snow from the skylight had covered it so much the room was practically black if it weren’t for the very dim but few lights in the room. You nod, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” You smile, laying back down. Big hands gripped your hips as he lined himself up to you, staring down at your sensitive bud for a moment before slowly sliding the tip into you. You whimper, gasping and letting your eyes roll back as he slid what you could take into you. You felt full, eyes trying to focus on the man in front of you.

“Fuck..” He muttered, leaning over you and kissing up from your collarbone to your neck, holding you close as he started to move gently into you. He knew he was big, and he didn’t plan on hurting you. he wanted it to be the best experience you’ve ever had.. despite the uncommon location. You hug him quickly, whining out and pressing your face into his shoulder. It couldn’t get closer than this.. Or so you thought, feeling him slowly start to fuck you open and press against that spot. Tears well in the corners of your eyes, gasping and biting the pain into his shoulder.

He hissed, making sure to go as slow as his mind and body would let him. He needed to see you completely undone, but your comfortability and adjusting to it would come first. “It’s okay sweetheart, ‘m right here. I got you. “ He whispered into your ear, nipping at your lobe with a small smile. You could hear how passionate he was in his voice, letting your legs wrap around him once more.

After a few more slow thrusts into you, you move from his shoulder and whisper back. “F..Fuck me like you mean it, Ten. I can take i..it.” You mewled out, feeling him kiss from your cheek to your lips before slamming into you. You squeaked, having trouble trying to kiss back. You couldn’t quiet down even if you wanted to. Your nails grab at his back, lightly scratching so you didn’t rip his skin open. Shit, fucking you like this you might not be able to stop yourself.

He shuddered at the feeling, pulling away from your lips to leave open mouthed kisses against your neck. You bite your lip hard, you didn’t know what time it was but you knew there were still people in the building. He slid his hands up to your back, letting his hands hold onto your shoulders from underneath you to keep you still while he fucked your brains out.

You were seeing stars, biting and leaving hickeys all over him to muffle yourself. He gritted his teeth, glancing down at you through foggy glasses. “You take it so good, honey.. Need..Need you like this all the time.” He huffed out, letting out another breathless chuckle at your fucked out expression. “Can I have you?”

Broken sobs of pleasure was really all you could give in return, nodding as quick as you could before kissing him once again. He smiled against your lips, letting a hand slide down to your clit. He only thumbed over it a few times before you came, legs squeezing tighter against his torso. He pulled his hand away, moving both of them back to your hips. He was obviously close too, but it felt so good he wasn’t sure he could pull out exactly in time.

“G-Gotta let me pull out, honey..” You shake your head no, burying your face into his skin once again. “Need.. need to feel.. In me– cum in me.” He began to slow down, trying to think through racing thoughts and how good you felt around him. It wasn't much time to make the decision and professionalism was already out the window at this point. “P.. Please- please tenya~?” You cry out, hugging close to him. If that’s what you wanted, he was going to oblige.

He gave a couple more thrusts, cumming into you and holding you close. Once you pulled away enough, he left peppered kisses amongst your neck and jaw.

You smile, sighing out tiredly before giving him a few kisses on his poor red lips. “You are my favorite human being on the planet,” You huff out, trying to continue but your thoughts were a bit scrambled. “I’m yours. For as long as you want me.”

He quickly responded, kissing your cheek in conformation. “Forever. I want you to be mine.. Forever.” He was sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and still out of breath himself. His face was red, eyes hanging low from both tiredness and wonderment.

You giggle at his response, taking his glasses and cleaning them with the silk of the robe that was under you.

“Forever it is.”

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot! Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

ALSO ALSO special thank you @urfriendlywriter for some of the smut ideas and the vocabulary, it helped better than fighting a thesaurus lol

thank you @thecutestgrotto and @arlerts-angel for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top photo!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[madewithsilk]

Virgin!reader x toxic gf!ellie

She pressures reader to have sex with her and she’s really rough with her even when reader asks her to be gentle

(Btw I love your writing so much 🩷)

— ᴛᴏxɪᴄ!ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ɢꜰ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ x ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ (ꜰ!) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴡ; ᴇꜱᴛᴀʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʀʟꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴅᴜʙ ᴄᴏɴ, ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ ᴏɴ

Ellie believes she has been more than patient. She notices the flicker of fear and the shadows of disagreement that cross your face whenever she brings having sex up, and she chalks it up to the norm. After all, it's only natural to feel apprehensive about the first time; she experienced those nerves herself. Yet, as she watches you, a wave of hunger washes over her, making it all the more enticing to bridge the gap between you and her. The way you lay in bed, watching TV, panties visible the her. She nearly swears you're doing it on purpose. It makes her think of all the times you were so needy but refused to have sex. She could hear you cumming on your pillow at least three times in one night while she stayed in the living room.

She wanted to keep being the slow-moving and forbearing lover, keeping to her promises of giving you as much time as needed and hiding how she truly felt. But her patience has always had limits.

She shuffles into the bedroom, a hand running through her hair. She was forming a script of words she’d whisper at you to finally bring you over the edge and give in. Your gaze shifts onto her, closing your thighs with a small redness on your cheeks. Ellie crawls onto the bed besides you, slipping one of her arms around your face to turn you and face her. Your puppy-like eyes stare up at her, an incoming pout forming. Her free hand strokes your cheek, a moment of intimate silence before she speaks up.

“How are you feeling, babe?” She whispers, thumb tracing circles on your hip. You grumble under your breath, being held flush against Ellie. Your eyes would dart around on her face, her tattoos. Your thighs clenched together. "Bit sleepy, just couldn't fall asleep." You huffed.

Ellie tuts, moving strands of hair out of your face in faux sympathy. "Poor baby," She begins, slipping a leg between your thighs, catching you by suprise. Your hands rested on her chest defensively, nodding. "Need help going to sleep?" You had an idea of what she could be suggesting, but you trusted her to respect your wishes, so you nodded again and asked "How?"

A smile ends up painted on Ellie's lips, refraining from rocking her knee against your clothed cunt just yet. “Y’know,” Her hands wander away from your hips and face, instead groping your tits in implication. You couldn't have shaken your head quicker, brows furrowing. Your hands pushed against Ellie's chest but she just held you closer. "Shh, shh, c'mon. It'll help you go to bed in no time, baby."

Your breathing was slightly uneven, biting your bottom lip. You wanted to sleep, but it was just so soon in your mind for sex. "I'll be so, so gentle, baby." You trusted Ellie, or at least you wanted to. Yet, you still denied the consistent offer. "No– Ellie, I'm not ready.." She rolls her eyes, body now above yours on the bed. She was caging you in. "Don't you wanna make me happy?" Her statement gave you a moment of contemplation. You feared her leaving if you didn't give her what she wanted soon enough.

“You promise you’ll be gentle?” Ellie keeps one hand besides your head on the bed, the other one reaching her pinky out to you childishly. “Pinky promise.” When your finger interlocked with hers, a small leaving your lips at the gesture, her hands went straight to undressing herself. She hovered above you, her belt undone right before you. You couldn't help but whimper, her boxers just begging to be taken off.

Your fingertips trace the waistband, seeing her already having a strap underneath. It slightly threw you off, wondering if she had planned this, but you didn't have much time to keep thinking when she fully tugged them down. The silicone dick was girthy, her palm encasing it and stroking it as if it were real. “Not gonna fit, Els..” She scoffed, kissing you to shut you up while removing your shirt and hiking up your skirt to reveal your panties and take those off too.

You responded to the kiss with fervor, hands tangling in her hair and groaning into the kiss alongside her. She didn't even reach down to play with your clit nor stretch you out with her fingers, lining up her cock to your entrance. Your tongue was exploring her mouth and she held you closer.

When you felt it stretch you completely, Ellie immediately buried herself to the hilt, you broke the kiss. Your eyes were wide, a bit of pain in your expression. Ellie groaned, hand resting on your throat as she began to thrust inside you. You whimpered, squeamish from the pain and incoming pleasure. She moaned into your neck now, hand pressing against your lower tummy so you could feel all of her inside you. “Fuckk— you don’t know how long I’ve needed this,”

You clawed at her back, head thrown against the mattress. Her pace was unrelentless and you felt the tip nudging your cervix. She pulled back from your neck, grasped your thighs, and kept pumping her dick into your sopping cunt. Tears welled in your eyes, it felt so good but it was so unwarranted. “Ellie— so- s’mean!” You whimpered, huffing and panting.

Your vision got blurry from both the tears and how her cock made your head swirl, you were filled to the brim. “Fuck, don’t- don’t cry, baby,” She was gasping for air, and even as you got closer and closer, she kept ramming the strap inside you. The sound of squelching and skin-slapping bounced off the walls, a knot forming deep in your tummy. “You’re dripping on me, baby, I can’t be that mean?” She chuckled breathlessly.

Your eyes were basically rolled to the back of your head, tongue lolling out. You wanted so badly to be mad and yell, but you couldn’t do much, just babble incoherent words. Your mouth was nearly completely slack, “Fuck— Els, can’t, can’t ta-take—“ She hummed, nodding and letting you ramble.

“You can, can take everything I give you, going so fuckin’ dumb,” She kept pounding into you, she swears she can feel you clench around her dick. You couldn’t stop squirming, back arching, she held you right in place while fucking you through your orgasm. She slithered a hand between your thighs to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge and cumming all over her

Her pace slowed down, instead giving harsher, deeper thrusts as you came down from the high. Ellie pulled the silicone cock out, resting it on your abdomen with the white ring of cream you left on it. She swiped sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, kissing it gently. She noticed the upset front you put on, her pride too high to say sorry.

Instead, she whispers sweetly in your ear, “You’ll forgive me, right?”

[littlelamy]

newlywed!rafe x newlywed!reader; a wedding night to remember

the door to the honeymoon suite barely closed before rafe was on you, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. his lips found your neck instantly, kissing and biting at the soft skin as you gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt.

“you’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “parading around in that fucking dress, knowing i was watching.”

“rafe…” you whimpered, trying to catch your breath, but he wasn’t having it. his hands were already tugging at the zipper of your dress, impatience dripping from every movement.

“no,” he grunted, yanking the fabric down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. “no more teasing, baby. i’ve waited too long for this.”

he pushed you back onto the bed, the gown still half on, pooling around your hips as you watched him strip off his jacket and tie with rough, hurried movements. his eyes were dark, filled with hunger as he looked at you—possessive, almost predatory.

“look at you,” he muttered, shaking his head as his fingers grazed over your thighs, pushing the fabric higher, exposing your panties. “my perfect fucking bride.”

you bit your lip, heat flooding your body at the intensity in his gaze. “i’m yours,” you whispered, wanting so badly for him to claim you, to make you feel the way only rafe could.

“damn right, you are,” he hissed, pulling at the delicate lace until it ripped, your panties gone in a heartbeat. you gasped at the sudden exposure, but the smirk on his face told you he wasn’t finished.

“i’m going to ruin you tonight,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous as he spread your legs apart, his eyes locked on the wetness already glistening between your thighs. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited to do this.”

he lowered his head, his mouth hot against your skin as he kissed up the inside of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. your hips bucked involuntarily, a whine escaping your lips, but rafe held you down with one firm hand.

“be patient, princess,” he teased, letting his breath ghost over your slick folds, making you squirm beneath him. “i’m gonna make you beg for it.”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you, your hands clutching the sheets as rafe’s tongue flicked out, just barely grazing your clit. “please…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “rafe, please…”

he chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “that’s what i like to hear.” he finally gave in, his tongue pressing flat against you, dragging up your slit before circling your clit with slow, deliberate movements that had your head spinning.

“fuck…” you gasped, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure surged through you. rafe didn’t stop, his mouth working you over, sucking and licking with a precision that made you see stars. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more, needing him.

“you taste so good,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue plunging deep inside you, making your whole body tremble. “so fucking sweet.”

“rafe…” you cried out, the pressure building inside you as he continued to devour you like a man starved, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your thighs clenched around his head, and he only growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place.

“i’m not stopping until you cum for me,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding as he flicked his tongue over your clit again, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “i want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

it didn’t take long. your body tightened, every muscle coiled with tension as your orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pure ecstasy that left you gasping, your body shuddering beneath him.

rafe didn’t give you a moment to recover. before you could even catch your breath, he was on top of you, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his body pressing you into the mattress.

“that’s just the beginning,” he growled against your lips, his cock hard and heavy as it pressed against your entrance. “i’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll never forget this night.”

“please…” you begged, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, but desperate for more. “i need you, rafe.

“yeah?” he smirked, teasing you by rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds, making you whimper in frustration. “you need me that bad?”

“yes, please…” you gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. “rafe, i need you so bad. please, fuck me.”

that was all he needed to hear. with one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you open, filling you completely. you cried out at the sudden fullness, your nails digging into his skin as he set a brutal pace, pounding into you with reckless abandon.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips slamming against yours as he drove deeper and deeper, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place. “taking me so fucking well, princess.”

you were a mess beneath him, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure built, each thrust sending shockwaves through you. “rafe…” you moaned, your voice barely coherent as he fucked you senseless, his name the only word you could manage.

“you like this, don’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “you like when i fuck you like this, when i make you mine.”

“yes…” you gasped, your body trembling, your mind barely able to keep up with the sensations flooding you. “i love it… i love you…”

rafe’s thrusts faltered for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. “say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick with emotion.

“i love you,” you whimpered, the words falling from your lips without hesitation.

“shit…” he groaned, his movements becoming more desperate, more frantic as he chased his own release. “i love you too, baby. always.”

the words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as another orgasm ripped through you, more intense than the first. your nails raked down his back as you cried out, your body trembling, completely at his mercy.

rafe wasn’t far behind. with a few more hard, erratic thrusts, he came with a low growl, his body shaking as he spilled inside you, filling you with everything he had. he collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged, his heart pounding against yours as you both lay there, tangled together.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people completely spent. rafe slowly pulled out of you, rolling onto his back and pulling you into his arms.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close. “forever.”

“forever,” you echoed, your body still trembling as you snuggled into his chest, feeling completely safe, completely his.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0