#a very very very FUCKING VERY tired kitchen cover

[osakhee]

level up, camboy!wonbin (feat sungchan)

second part of action!

! roommate!sungchan, voyeurism, wonbin gets tied up, edging, overstimulation, use of toy(s), sungchan is mean, degradation, use of slut/whore

wonbin never really cares about how many eyes are looking at him. the more viewers on his stream the happier, the harder he gets. he couldn't care less that his roommate and dear friend sungchan stands at slightly opened door, hidden in the dark corridor. wonbin is too concentrated on his hands that slide down his shining chest, listening eagerly to his chat's every command.

sungchan doesn't know how he ended up here. all he wanted was to ask wonbin if he wanted to order some food... sungchan has always been a quite lively person, and his roommate that spent all his time with him suddenly started disappearing in his room as soon as the night started to set. sungchan is getting tired of eating alone in the kitchen, wonbin even gave up on the movie night they set together every thursday and it really made him sad. he couldn't be more surprised when he peaked through wonbin's door once and saw his friend's naked body lit up by his computer screen doing some of the most obscene things sungchan has never seen. more than aroused, sungchan actually felt really curious. is it this activity that stopped wonbin from paying attention to him, his beloved friend?

sungchan ended up looking through different websites until he found wonbin's account. he created an account to lurk through his roommate's profile fully. the dates of some of his old streams matched exactly with the evenings where he was missing next to sungchan on the couch, and it made sungchan upset. very upset actually. turns out his friend of a few years is not only an attention seeker, but also such a pervert. he mindlessly watched a few parts of wonbin's past videos and saw how turned on he was each time the comments would degrade him.

the idea tingled sungchan's mind for days. the side eye he would give wonbin in the morning before he left to work went unnoticed, and it only made him more confident about his decision. for the past few days, sungchan observed wonbin from the little crack in the door, just enough to see his roommate either jerking himself off, humping a pillow or using toys depending on the mood of his chat. he ignored how hard he got watching the humiliation wonbin faced, the tears that dripped from his eyes. and each time sungchan would just grumble to himself and lay on his bed, his head so full of thoughts he can barely sleep anymore.

sungchan is really silent. it's thursday, their movie night day. wonbin is all giddy since he came back from his classes, a smile painting his face. sungchan can't wait to watch it disappear, he can barely hold back when wonbin disappears in his room. he turns off the tv, and all the lights in the living room before sitting back down on the couch. and he waits. he waits until he can hear a high and muffled moan coming from wonbin's room. sungchan had waited enough.

he stands up, walks to his friend's room and opens the door without warning. wonbin is not on live yet, he's just turning himself on slowly by poking the bulge in his shorts. he jumps in surprise and almost fall off his bed when sungchan gets in. he sits cross legged on his bed, his hands covering a little his crotch to make sure sungchan couldn't see his hard length pushing through his clothes. but he can't hide the website that's on his laptop screen and the vibrator that lays behind him on the bed.

"hmm hi sungchan... everything okay?"

"it's thursday. we're supposed to be having a movie night."

"oh. right... well i don't... feel so good, we can do that next time if that's okay?"

"stop lying to my fucking face wonbin."

sungchan's tone catches wonbin off guard, and his breath gets stuck in his throat. a wave of anxiety builds in his stomach and takes away the neediness. what is his friend doing in his room, and what could he want from him at that moment? wonbin watches the door close and he swallows with difficulty. sungchan walks around his roommate's room, he knows exactly what he's looking for. it's bad, he knows it, but he couldn't stop himself from going through wonbin's things when he was out for the past few days.

sungchan easily finds the dark blue ropes that wonbin carefully hides under his bed, and that's when his friend starts getting the hint of what he has in mind. wonbin stands up to take the tight cotton away from his hands, but sungchan pushes him back onto the bed with force.

"so that's what you do when i'm waiting for you and you don't even tell me? i can't believe i was even worried for you while you're acting like a bitch in front of a camera? now take your clothes off i'm gonna show your followers how much of a slut you are."

sungchan's eyes travel the website and look around for the livestreaming option. he clicks on the button, the red dot of the camera turns on, and the dark room appears on the screen. wonbin sits on his knees, naked, his hands behind his back. his head is low with genuine shame, but when comments start flowing and money drop on the inbox, he gets more confident. he's tied to the point he can't move unless sungchan helps him. his hands on his back, the dark cotton surrounding his chest and rubbing on his nipples then up his neck, tight just enough to make his breath painful. the ropes dig into the skin of his thighs that he parts as much as possible so it wouldn't make contact with his balls that are already overly sensitive. the knot around his lower stomach has his hard dick resting on it, his transparent arousal dripping on his skin.

sungchan reads a few comments without a look at wonbin that wiggles on the bed. he can be seen on the livestream, but he doesn't show his face, only his veiny arms and hands appear on the screen when he grabs roughly grabs wonbin's face to make him look at the camera.

"isn't that everyone's favorite whore... he's prettily tied up for you, isn't he?"

anonymous user gave you a tip : what is going on rn

anonymous user gave you a tip : ???????

anonymous user gave you a tip : that's so hot of him please make him cry

"you have such demanding fans wonbin, they all want to see how messed up you can get."

sungchan lets go of wonbin's face. his roommate won't even look at him, but he can't ignore how much his cock throb just having sungchan spitting venom at him. he tries again to free his hands but can only shifts a little more on his knees, his tip rubbing against the dark blue rope that's around his stomach. the sensation makes his hips shake and buck up, desperate for more friction he needs so badly. sungchan is quick to stop him with a light slap on his thigh that makes wonbin whimper.

sungchan follows the comments' directives. he wants wonbin's chat to see how far he could go for them and for his own pleasure. he grabs the black vibrator wonbin has used so many times and turns it on. when he shows it to the camera, the tingling noise of the money being dropped on the livestream gets faster. it convinces sungchan to go further. he walks up to wonbin and stands next to him, he makes sure he's not blocking the view. with the edge of the vibrator, he makes wonbin look up at the screen again, his face already flushed with anticipation.

sungchan travels wonbin's body with the vibrating head of the toy, he spends a while on the pointed nipples that are already red from being rubbed over the cotton rope. his roommate cries out, his chest heaves so fast, the dark cords digging into the skin and leaving delicious pink burns. he makes its way lower, pushing the vibrator on his stomach. wonbin's thighs shake, he can only whine, he feels pathetic. but he loves it. he loves the forced eye contact sungchan makes him have with the camera. he can see all the comments telling him how fucked he looks and it turns him on even more.

the vibrations slowly reach wonbin's hard cock and it makes him jerk up instantly. sungchan has the edge of the black toy resting at the base of his dick, he watches it bounce, the beads of precum hitting the sheets. he grabs one of the rope with his free hand to make sure wonbin would stop wiggling around, and he makes the vibrator go up his length until he reaches the tip. the chat is going too fast for him, he needs to get up and choose comments by himself, and as he checks out some of the users' words, he ignores the boy tied on the bed. wonbin cries loudly, his hips trembling with pleasure, the toy rubbing his slit over and over again. he can feel his orgasm already building up and way too fast.

sungchan finally sees wonbin throwing his head back on the screen and he takes the toy away. a sob escapes his roommate's lips, his pulsating tip so red and his throbbing dick almost painful. sungchan just scoffs at him, taunting him in such a cruel way with the vibrator. the anger on wonbin's face is mixed with desperation, his cheeks glistening with his tears.

"did you think it was going to be that easy? don't you usually listen to your chat like a good boy?"

anonymous user gave you a tip : poor little wonbin

sungchan hits playfully wonbin's cock with the vibrator, it makes him moan a little louder each time. all he can do is babbles incoherent words, the denial of his orgasm makes the pleasure so painful his head spins, his mind is foggy. he can barely keep his eyes open, his head dropping low. sungchan's hand reaches wonbin's hair, he yanks his head back up and another cry escapes his roommate's throat. the overwhelming sensation of his hair being pulled is new to him but he can feel his release building up again at the feeling of sungchan's rough fingers grabbing his long black locks. his hair get tugged on a little more and it cuts his breath.

anonymous user gave you a tip : is that how you beg for it? you can do better than that.

anonymous user gave you a tip : awww will he ever get to cum, poor little whore...

"can you read that wonbin? or are you crying too hard? your chat wants you to beg for it. come on, make it worth it for them, ask them to cum since you want it so badly."

it takes a while for wonbin to gather his thoughts, his breath is broken with sobs and the noise of the vibrator is making him dizzy. he wants to look down, but sungchan's tight grip on his long hair forces him to arch his back and look right into the red dot on his camera. he can see himself on the screen and the massive figure of his roommate next to him. once again, he looks so pathetic.

"pl- please... c-can i please cum... i w-wanna cum it hurts i-it's so... s-so much i need it please p-please..."

"that's a little too easy like that."

"sungch-"

"don't dare saying my name on your fucking stream. now you better try harder or i'm leaving you like that."

"i- i-i need to cum s-so badly i'm s-such a slut... i w-want it... p-please i- i'm in so much pain pl-please make me cum..."

his words are directed to his audience but also to his roommate, his voice broken by desperate whines. sungchan holds the toy close to his throbbing cock and he watches it twitch with anticipation. wonbin bucks his hips to meet the vibrations and it only brushes his tip but it's more than enough to make the pleasure explode inside wonbin's stomach. his dick pulses with each rope of the hot fluid, covering his thighs and the edge of the toy. sungchan pushes it down the length and wonbin jerks up once again, his body arching into the delicious frictions. the contact is making him drool, it drips down his chin along with the tears that already wetted his neck. the dark blue rope that contains his hands feel even more tight each time he tries to free himself.

wonbin wants to get away from the heavy vibrations sent through his already sensitive cock, it hurts him, it hurts him so good he can't even think anymore. only sungchan tugging on his hair to make sure he keeps his head up to show on the livestream keep him in touch with reality. he feels himself twitching again as another wave of pleasure rushes over him. more cum spills from his slit, down his length until it drops on the sheets.

"n-no m-more... st-stop..."

it's only when his third orgasm hits him that sungchan decides to take the toy away. he turns it off and throws it on the bed. since he let go of wonbin's hair, his roommate just dropped his face into the bed, still lost in the overwhelming stimulation that sent shivers to his spine. sungchan cuts the live, and unties each knot. wonbin's hands that are now free just fall down on the sheets next to him, the red marks left by the dark blue cords covering his glistening skin. now satisfied by his work, sungchan leaves wonbin alone with his thoughts, face flushed and breath ragged.

sungchan walks into his room and closes the door behind him. the bulge in his sweatpants is becoming more and more difficult to ignore, each step makes him a little harder. he sits at his desk and turns on his gaming computer, massaging himself through his underwear inside his pants. he knows exactly what he's looking for once the screen lit up.

jvngsvngch4n is live !

THAT WAS KINDA CRAZY 🤓☝🏻 sungchan is much meaner than i expected at first (i would do anything mean dom sungchan asks me tbh) sorry for anyone who wanted camboy wonbin x reader btw this popped in my mind and i couldn't get it out of my head lol

[jaylaxies]

TEASER: ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst.

word count: estimated 15k words. (currently 8k)

teaser wc: 748 words!

synopsis: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, but having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roomie friends had their club’s exchange program? that was your final straw.

warning: the fic will contain 18+ content, minors dni.

a/n: hihi loves <3 sorry for the delay but the fic is getting longer than intended! so i’ll just leave a little teaser as something to compensate while i finish writing. also, the given teaser is unedited, changes might be included in the fic <3

taglist is open! comment/send an ask to be added <3 (make sure to have your age visible on your blog! blank blogs will not be added to the tl)

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smirk present on his face.

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.

“Can’t move?” He teased.

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.

Messing with you was one thing.

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt.

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run

Pt 3

At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.

You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.

The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.

You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.

Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.

He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.

“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.

“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Grounding.

“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”

“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.

“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“

“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.

“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.

“You’re going to let us-“

“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.

“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.

“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.

“You’re still a good person too.”

Those words linger in the air.

You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.

“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.

“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.

Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”

“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.

You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.

“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.

You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”

It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.

“You scared me, you need to stop-“

“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.

“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“

“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.

“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.

“I’ll just finish-“

“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”

“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.

“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.

Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”

“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.

“Yes ma’am.”

[strawhbrrries]

Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

[sukunasteeth]

Taking Care of a Tired Sukuna

Sukuna has had a long day.

Well, night.

Morning.

Fuck.

Working construction had been twisting up his sleeping schedule. At this point, Sukuna was starting to feel it in his body; in the strain in his muscle, and the aches and pains that randomly gripped him.  

They had him working on a new project that could only be done at night, while the public was off the main roads, and that meant his new work hours were starting from sometime in the middle of the evening and ending in the morning or the mid-afternoon. Being nocturnal wouldn't be so bad if his commute home wasn't during rush hour. The traffic was always worse when he just wanted to crawl onto his couch and fall asleep there. And when he does come home at the end of the day - he's aching, exhausted, and every bone in his body is vibrating with the noise from a jackhammer or the hum of a forklift.

Sukuna has always liked something that keeps him busy, interested, something that tests his strengths. So, he can't say that he hates the job, but he does wish that it wouldn't occupy so much of his time. He's wont to forget things when he's so wrapped up in a new task.

Like today, for example, when he finally swings his truck around the front of his apartment building, barely making it off the freeway without murdering someone, and he spots your car parked there in his spot.

He starts a bit, his sleep deprived brain suddenly spinning as memory serves him. 

That's right. You were supposed to come over today after he got off of work and spend the night- and he didn't plan a damn thing. There's no flowers in the backseat, he didn't stop to grab lunch for the two of you, he doesn't even have anything in his fridge for dinner tonight, besides a few forgotten beers tucked away in the side door.

As Sukuna searches for a parking spot much further down the street, he knows he should be disappointed with himself, but he can't help the touch of excitement that's suddenly dissolving the exhaustion from his muscles. Sometimes, Sukuna resents the fact that you manage to reduce him to this. He hates that he can't control that his heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing you again, like he's in some sappy romance novel.

But it was the hold you had on him, and he was starting to accept it.

~

You got to Sukuna's apartment about two hours before he was scheduled to be home. It was a day off for you, and you woke up with butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

You were giddy to see him. You always were. And not a single butterfly has died in your heart-space for him since the moment you met Sukuna, around two years ago. He has tended to each of them since then with his gentle but stubborn touch, although, he would never admit it.

You adored him for that.

It's still early in the morning when you use the key he had made for you to unlock his front door. Immediately upon stepping in, you're hit with how dark his studio is. The sun had risen over the horizon hours ago, and yet, the only hint of its light came from a small gap in Sukuna's blackout curtains. When you pull them back, you turn around and wince at the room behind you.

Yep, he's working too hard.

There's construction tools all over the house; sitting on the counter, in the sink, on his bed-stand, there's even a huge oil covered machine beside the front door that you nearly trip on in your trek over to the curtain. His coveralls and work clothes are strewn across the living room like he's been too exhausted to even make it to his bed at the end of his days, which is not very far from the couch. Meanwhile, his bedroom and the kitchen look nearly immaculate, telling you he hasn't cooked in days and confirming your suspicions about his sleeping arrangements. You wander over to his fridge and pop it open, sighing hopelessly when you're greeted with nothing inside.

Good thing he has you. 

~

By the time he makes it home, it's around one in the afternoon. You've got his laundry hanging on the clothesline outside, more in the washing machine, and all of his tools and odds and ends have been sorted and dusted clean. You've opened every window he has, and cool, fresh air sweeps away the oppressed darkness his apartment held before. Everything was back in equilibrium. 

When his keys jingle outside the door, you're just finishing up the last of folding his laundry. Sukuna steps inside, and your heart aches at how drained he looks despite the way his eyes widen as he peers around the room in surprise. His clothes are covered in dust from the construction site, and there's a smear of dirt on his cheek that makes him look like a chimney sweep. There's a tool in his hand that looks rather heavy, straining the muscles in his arm, but he seems to have momentarily forgotten to put it down. Half moon circles are embedded under his eyes, but they only bring out the intensity of his gaze. 

"Hi 'Kuna?" You chime, calling his attention to rest on you.

He blinks, taking a moment to process the situation. You don't recognize the glimmer in his eyes then, and part of you starts to sweat at the thought of him taking this all wrong. Sukuna had never been particularly picky with you, but vice versa, you had never done something like this for him before. He never gave you the opportunity, after all. Out of the two of you, Sukuna was usually the one who was always effortlessly put together.

"You... cleaned..." He notes. 

You swallow, "I did but I didn't move things around though. Just tried to put things back. Your laundry is right outside and I got you some groceries-" Sukuna drops the tool in his hand without warning, and you start talking faster, your voice raising a pitch as he starts towards you. "Okay, thinking back, I guess I should have asked. Maybe texted- no, you hate texting. Maybe called-"

“Did you clean the paint specks off of my air compressor?” He was standing in front of the machine beside the front door, which you painstakingly made sure not to ruin in your cleansing, despite having no idea what it was. 

When he looks at you for an answer, continuing to close the distance between the two of you. You swallow the rock in your throat. “Too much?” 

He’s made his way across the room and his surprised expression finally settles into a familiar hungry grin. He grabs you by the hem of your jeans, yanking you roughly towards him. You catch yourself on his chest, making a small noise of surprise. When you look up to scold him, Sukuna is an inch away from your face, his lips almost brushing yours, save for half a centimeter of space between them. He smells like sawdust and menthol, you can taste it in the close proximity as he greedily takes your breath away. 

“Off. Now.” He growls, but his fingers are already undoing the button clasped in the front of your pants. “I’m about to fuckin’ eat you, sweet thing.” 

~

You end up skipping lunch, but you're well satisfied a few hours later. A certain hunger: satiated. Sukuna is resting peacefully beside you. You can hear his even breathing against the sound of the cicadas outside, screaming in through the windows. Seeing him so content, sets your heart at ease and you release a sigh of relief. 

Now, to end the night, it was time to slip out of bed without him noticing to finish folding his laundry. 

Or so you thought. 

As you carefully peel back the blankets and try to sneak off the side of the mattress, a warm pair of fingers loop themselves around your panty line, effectively preventing you from going anywhere. Guiltily, you peek over your shoulder to see Sukuna glaring at you with half of his face still smushed into his pillow, genuinely disgruntled with the fact that you were trying to leave his bed. You can't help but chuckle.

"I'm just gonna go grab your laundry." You reassure him, brushing a tousled tuft of his hair out of his eyes. The knot between his brows deepens.

"Let me do that later. C'mere. " He tugs on your panty line, confident that you'll be submissive for him.

The sun outside was casting tall shadows on the walls of his bedroom and the glow was now deep and rich, telling you that it was preparing to set. You didn't want Sukuna's laundry on the balcony all night, which is what you were sure would happen if you didn't go and grab it now.

You hear a thread rip in your panty line interrupting your contemplation and, quickly, you grab his wrist, squeezing it as a signal for him to let go.

He continues to hold fast, his brow cocking in a silent dare.

"'Kuna, come on." You try, "Lemme take care of you-"

"You've been doing nothing but take care of me all day." He scoffs, like the idea of it is absurd to him. Rarely does Sukuna allow you the opportunity to show him as much care and adoration as you have today. Being doted on was not typically something he enjoyed. You knew that, and that's how you also knew that he was exhausted to his bones that day. "Get your ass back here."

There's a tug again, and another thread snaps somewhere. You pout at him, already having the foresight that this pair of panties wasn't going to last you long either. Your partner had the tendency to rip them off of you, and this wouldn't be the first pair to become a shred of what they once were. To be fair, he was also known for giving you his credit card and telling you to go buy "some things for him to see you in", so it would be at no cost to you. But, you happened to like this pair.

Sukuna watches you consider your options silently, unrelenting in his hold on your lace. When you peek up at his gaze, testing one more time, you know you've already lost.

"Don't make me chase after you." He warns, the promise of your inevitable surrender is evident in the predatory glint of his eyes. If Sukuna had a tail at that moment, it would be swaying back and forth, preparing for a pounce. "It's been a while since the last time I had you tied up. I do miss those sweet little bruises we left on your wrists."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention upon his recollection. The last time Sukuna had you in ropes, you had to call off of work the next day. Your backside stings with the memory, but half of you can't help but ache for it too. Tied up in Sukuna's bed while he was forced to care for the boneless pile that was his girlfriend, drunk off of his lovemaking? That wasn't the worst place to be.

But, on the other hand, you could tell how exhausted he was with the new construction project at his job. You have a flashback of showering with him at the end of the night and scrubbing sawdust out of his hair. Having to gently prod and kiss him awake as he fell asleep standing up in front of you. You were adamant that you weren't going to do anything to tire him further tonight. 

Before you can properly give in, Sukuna must have decided that you were taking much too long to obey him. 

His other hand reaches over and winds around your lower waist, pulling you backwards into the soft cushion of the pillows and easily flipping the two of you so that he’s mounted above you. In your surprised stupor, he collects both of your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

"You've forgotten how to follow directions again, kitten." His murmur is like velvet against your ear. His teeth graze over his favorite spot on the nape of your neck, where he’s already tortured it with his teeth and hickies. You didn’t realize how raw the skin was until he bites you there, drawing a whimper from your throat. 

 "Let's remind you."

[fallin2pieces]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you said it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “your such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age, with no love only lust but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there

[munsster]

dull domestication

A/N: s4 steve is WAY too babygirl like what am i supposed to do. he is literally begging to be domesticated. (gif creds: @emziess)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and a sleepy Steve have a very domestic conversation about the future. 0.9k words

Warnings: domestic fluff, talk of pregnancy/children, cuddling, pet names (daddy /j, baby, honey), cursing

Steve's hair is mussed when he reenters the living room from the kitchen. You're not sure what exactly he got up to in there besides dishes, but you're sure he looks even more tired than when he left. And now, he's a heat seeking missile for your lap.

"Tired, honey?" you whisper just to see him nod and close his eyes halfway to the couch. And when he finally reaches you, he spreads his body weight completely atop yours, ear pressed to your heart and cheek smushed against your sternum.

He hums with your lithe fingers sweetly combing through his hair.

"Fuckin' exhausted. Don't even get me started on my shift," he grumbles.

"What happened on your shift?"

He sighs long and hard, rumbling your chest. It takes everything in you not to laugh at how it even shakes the couch a little.

"Robin ditched halfway through to go on a date with Vickie"—he mocks—"and I forgot my lunch."

"Aw, baby, you know I would've brought it to you."

"Don't feel bad, I only didn't call because I worked through my entire break because no one was there to remind me that I even had a break. Stupid. If I hadn't just gotten a raise, I fuckin' swear."

With every second, he seems to sink further into your embrace, bones becoming goo the longer he crushes you into the cushions. Even with the air running and the night chill cooling the house, he stills runs hot like an oven. If you held your breath, you could probably hear his veins humming to produce all that heat.

"I knew I should've visited today. I had a feeling," you say, fingertips soft on the back of his neck. He hums, pushing his hands up your sides and taking your top with them.

"I like when you visit me, baby," he says, "makes me happy. And way more productive."

"Except for the twenty minutes we spend doing nothing."

"Hey, we don't do nothing."

"Oh, sorry, the twenty minutes we spend staring into each others eyes and making out. How could I forget?"

"Dunno," he shrugs, hands now snug up underneath your shoulder blades. "You ever think about kids?"

"Like how loud and obnoxious they are? Yeah, sometimes."

"Yeah, that." But you know that's not all because his brow furrows, his face taut against your chest. He takes a deep breath and shivers when you dip your fingers into the neck of his shirt. "But also about how cute ours would be."

Fuck. For all the shit running through his mind, you're shocked that's all he let out. How cute your kids would be. You and Steve. Cute kids? No doubt. Have you seen his eyes? Of course they'd be cute. You just can't beleive he said it out loud. Like the though of getting older and settling down never crossed his mind as a kind of threat. Like that's the natural course of action for two young adult lovers. You've talked about marriage, sure, but children is a whole new ballpark.

"Honey?" he coos, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "Did I scare you?"

"No. No, no. Just... hadn't really thought of it.

But I agree. Our kids would be cute. Loud and obnoxious and cute."

Your heart gives you away, pounding hard against his cheek and against your will. It makes him blush to hear you say it. Makes him a little embarrassed he said anything at all. But, they'd be pretty cute, wouldn't they?

"We don't have to talk about it," he whispers. You look down at him, pushing all of his hair up past his hairline and covering it up until he looks hairless and then letting it all flop down in his face.

"It's okay, we can talk about it," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead and pull away with a smile. 

"I hope they have your eyes," he says.

"No way, you've got stunners. They better have yours, daddy," you say, grinning wickedly.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, daddio, better get used to it if you want to father our annoying yet gorgeous children."

He goes bug-eyed, staring you down in the dark, and then squinting when you cover your face to laugh.

"Not funny."

"I'm sorry! You should've seen your face, baby. Just a teensy weensy bit funny."

"You're my number one enemy right now."

"Fine, no babies for you."

Steve rucks up your shirt with haste, swiping his hand over your tummy before pressing his wet lips to the hot skin. And blowing a raspberry onto it.

"Steven! Get off of me!" you shout. He takes a very minor beating to his upper back before he laughs and wipes his mouth on his sleeve and settling his head back on your chest. You rub circles over the muscle you had attacked, whispering an apology and rolling your eyes. 

"Okay, I hope they have your nose."

"I do have a great nose," you tease.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"I hope they all get a good mix of everything. Little franken-babies."

"I hope so, too. All six of them."

"Six??"

"Sorry, did you want more?"

"More???" you gasp. He chuckles.

"I'm kidding," he teases, plucking at the edge of your tee. "Six is the perfect number." You'd definitely be discussing that number later on.

stranger things masterlist

[uluvjay]

Helpful Ex- L. Norris

Lando Norris x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Your ex finally comes around to pick up his things but finds you in an interesting situation

Warnings?; SMUT, masturbation(f), coming in pants(m), p I v, unprotected sex(use protection!!!), praising, dirty talk, Lando being a little shit, cursing, fingering, literally porn with a somewhat plot

Lightly proofread, sorry for any errors!

A frustrated cry left your mouth at the unsatisfied feeling, the burning in your stomach was so strong but you couldn’t reach the edge. You’d been trying for weeks to get a release but no matter what you did or tried, nothing helped

The knock at your front door was what caused your hand to fly out of your panties, and the ding coming from your phone made you realize who it was knocking at the door.

“One second!” You yelled, jumping out of bed and throwing on your discarded shorts before making your way towards the front door.

“Hi” you breathed up at the blue eyed man

“Hey, you okay?” He questioned, you two had spent enough time together for him to realize the frustrated look in your eyes.

“Uh yeah, just tired. Come in I’ll grab your box” you smiled opening the door wider for him.

Your relationship with the British driver had lasted a loving three years and came to an agreed ending. With you living in London, he in Monaco, and the constant traveling of his job you both realized you’d became more of friends rather than lovers.

You had broken up about four months ago but due to his constant traveling the Brit had only just gotten around to coming back to London.

When you returned you found him sitting at your kitchen island, snacking on the cookies you had baked the night before.

“These are fucking amazing” he praised with a mouth fool of said cookie.

With a small giggle you thanked him before sitting across from him.

“How’ve you been?” You asked

“Good, The teams been doing pretty well so that’s always nice. How about you? Max said you found yourself a little play thing at the club the other night” he smirked.

You blushed at the boys comment, “that little rat. It Didn’t get very far anyways” you shrugged.

“Yeah why’s that?” He laughed picking up another cookie.

“He uh..he came in his pants” you mumbled

“He what?” Lando crackled.

“Lando it’s not funny! We were you know..making out and next thing I knew he was pushing me off and there was a wet spot on his jeans.”

“It’s not I’m sorry! But it’s not that embarrassing I mean you’ve made me cum in my pants. As long as he finished you off that’s all that matters” he shrugged bringing his cookie up to his lips but the look on your face stopped him.

“He did finish you off right?” He questioned slowly.

“Um,no” you blushed awkwardly

“Your joking right?” He scoffed at the shake of your head.

“I’m sorry he got you all hot and bothered, came in his pants and then ran out?” He clarified.

“Yeah..”

“Oh baby” he laughed standing up and rounding the island to your side.

“S’ not funny Lan” you scolded looking up at him as he towered over your sitting frame.

“Your right I’m sorry honey” he muttered looking down at you with darkening eyes.

“S’ That what was wrong when I got here?” He questioned.

“Wa-what do you mean?” You mumbled hoping he didn’t actually catch on to what you had been doing before he arrived.

“You were touching yourself weren’t you? I seen the frustration in your eyes and the blush covering your face. You’ve been trying to get yourself off since that night haven’t you?” He smirked.

Your head dropped at the boys affirmation, he was one hundred percent correct and you couldn’t deny it. You were a virgin before Lando and through your entire relationship you always had him to get you off. Of course you’d touched yourself when he was away but it was always guided by his voice over the phone.

“Don’t go shy on me now baby, it’s okay. You’re just a spoiled little brat that’s never had to do anything for herself before.” He tutted, slipping a finger under your chin you bring your eyes back on his.

Your thighs clenched at his words, you hadn’t gotten a proper orgasm since the last time he’d gotten you off with his fingers in between your thighs while you sat in the passenger seat of his McLaren.

“Lando..” you whined as his fingers slipped down your run over your thighs.

“You want my help baby? Need me to take care of you?” He asked.

“Yes. Please.” You whimpered.

Your confirmation was all it took for the boy to pick you up and take off down the hall towards your bedroom.

He tossed you onto the soft bed before stripping off his hoodie and shoes and climbing over your body. He leaned down to place a teasing peck onto your lips, lightly nipping at your bottom lip.

Tired of his teasing you slipped your fingers into his soft curls and pulled him down for your lips to meet in a deep kiss. A low groan escaping Lando’s throat at the way you slightly tugged on his roots, he missed the way your fingers felt tangled in his hair.

“Missed you so much baby.” He whispered as he detached his lips from yours, beginning a trail down the column of your throat.

“Me too” you whimpered, head tipping back to allow him more access to your delicate skin.

“Can I take this off?” He questioned as he tugged on the hem of your hoodie, that actually belonged to him.

“Mhm” you nodded, smirking at the growl that came from his mouth when he realized that’s all you were wearing on your top half.

“Gonna kill me one day baby” he groaned laying his head against your bare chest.

You giggled as his bright eyes looked into yours before he leaned over and attached his lips to one of your breasts. A sharp whine breaking from your throat at the sensation of his warm mouth, his hand reaching over and pinching the bud between his fingers.

“God lando” you moaned as he sucked on the bud, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin-Just the way you liked.

He continued his assault on your breasts for a moment before finally pulling away and trailing his lips further down your body till he reached the waistline of your cloth shorts.

He looked up at you for confirmation before pulling the material off your body, you gave him a nod and he quickly pulled them down your soft legs.

“So wet baby” he spoke at the sight of your wet panties, moving them to the side to reveal your puffy clit.

You gasped at the feeling of his thick fingers running through your folds, keeping his touch feather light to tease you.

He slowly worked his middle finger inside you, smirking at the moan that broke free from your mouth as he added his ring finger.

His fingers moved skillfully inside you, moving back and forth with such care that he had you withering and crying out above him. Your fingers gripped the sheets as you called out his name over and over.

He worked you till he couldn’t take it anymore, from the way you moaned his name and how tight you were hugging his fingers. He needed to be inside of you, needed to feel you wrapped around his cock again.

“Why’d you stop” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“Gonna fuck you now baby” He smirked as he came up to place a hot kiss on your lips before removing himself from the bed to take his remaining clothes off.

You sat up on your elbows to watch him strip, he removed his shirt slowly-teasingly. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of his naked upper half, it was obvious he’d been devoting a bit more time to training. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to reveal his light gray boxers, a small patch had formed from his precum.

He pulled off his boxers revealing his hard cock, it smacked against his lower stomach.the sight caused your mouth to water, missing the weight of it on your tongue.

He crawled his way back up the bed to rest over you, slotting himself between your thighs as he gripped the shaft of his cock, guiding his length towards you entrance, teasing the tip up and down your folds.

“Fuck, don’t tease lan, please” you begged from below him.

“So polite baby, that’s my good girl” He praised as he thrusted his hips into yours and set a slow pace.

“Oh fuck” you cried at the feeling of him being inside you again.

He locked his lips with yours, one of his hands coming up to rest on the base of your throat giving it a light squeeze.

“Feel so good for me baby, can’t believe someone passed this up. Didn’t know what he was missing out on” he rambled above you.

He gripped your legs, wrapping them around his lower half as he picked up his pace, sounds of slapping skin and moans filling the room.

Your freshly manicured nails ranked down his back as his tip hit the spongy spot inside you, “ahh, god. Feels so good Lan” you cried into his neck.

“Yeah? You miss my cock baby? Miss how I fill you up?” He teased.

“Yes, fuck yes I did. Missed all of you Lando” you admitted to the green eyed man above you.

Your moans became downright pornographic as he moved his thumb in circles on your clit, fingers digging further into his skin as your back arched.

“I’m getting close love” he moaned into your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses along the skin.

“Me to baby, so close” you cried, fingers moving into his hair to tug at the curly locks.

You could feel the tightness in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter, as his thumb continued to work your clit and his mouth spewed dirty words at you.

You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy as his hands dug into the sides of your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“Fuck lan-I’m gonna cum” you cried out below him.

“Go ahead baby, I’ve got you. Come for me like the good girl you are.” He encouraged as he moved your legs up over his shoulders to thrust at a deeper angle.

And that you did, fingers digging into his skin so hard it caused the man to groan out at the feeling. His own moans getting whiny and whinier as he got closer to his own high.

“Cum for me Lando” you encouraged into the Brits ear.

“Fuck, I’m coming” he cried as he pushed out one more hard thrust and stilled as he spilled inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you once he came down from his high, your hand slipped into his curls as you placed light kisses to his head.

His own lips ran along your collarbone as he nuzzled into you, he always became quite the clinger after sex.

You both laid there for a moment before he pulled his head from your chest and looked up at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“Hi” you smiled at him.

“Hi darling” he smiled back warmly as he reached up the brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can I spend the night?” He asked quietly.

“You can stay for as long as you’d like” you replied before leaning down and giving him a sweet kiss.

-

[evie-sturns]

embarrassment- Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you and your best friend chris, get caught hooking up in the kitchen by his brothers, nick and matt, it results in an argument with nick.

contains: fwb!chris, smut, caught fucking, crying, angst, embarrasment.

---------------------------------------—————————

nick always made it clear that he couldn't be friends with someone who liked one of his brothers. little did he know i didn't just like chris, i was fucking him everytime we had the chance

11:43pm

matt and nick went to bed 45 minutes ago, i've been lying around in the kitchen with chris for a couple of minutes. theres been tension between him and i since the early morning, both desperate to be fucking eachother.

chris walks over to me, hes wearing nothing but sweatpants, a clear dick print on his sweatpants. i place my phone down on the countertop,

he cups my face, "i see you looking at me like that." chris starts, his voice low and breathy

"brushing up against my dick?" chris states, my cheeks flush

"you wouldn't want nick to see that. he'd be very.. very.. upset." his voice is seductive, he knows what we do is risky.

i shake my head while sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip, "sorry." i mutter, looking chris in his eyes.

he grabs my ass, lifting me up onto the counter top. he shimmy's my pyjama shorts down my bare legs, discarding them on the floor.

chris's cold hands yank down the neckline of my tank top, my tits falling out.

"it's- it's too risky, nick and matt are just down the hallway." i pout,

"you like it though, thats why you tease me around them." chris instantly replies.

that silences me.

chris yanks down his sweatpants, his erection instantly springing out "no boxers again? thought 'ya learnt your lesson last time." i smile, chris leans towards me, whispering right under my ear

"don't make a fucking sound, don't wanna hear you."

i nod, chris lines himself up with me, pushing his tip just inside of me.

the stretch always burns, chris is big. "it's too big- fuck- ow." i whine softly.

"you can take it, i know you can." he whispers, reaching out a hand for me to hold. i grab his hand, gripping it for dear life as chris bottoms out.

"gonna move now okay?" chris mumbles, "o-okay okay." i repeat, wrapping my legs around his waist.

chris starts to thrust in and out of me, i let my head flop down onto chris's shoulder, muffling my noises from his bare skin.

i shift on the countertop with each thrust, "you got it, good girl taking me so well." chris speaks quietly, holding the back of my head as he continues to pound in and out of me

i flop back, letting my hands support me behind me on the counter, arching my back as i hold back all noises, small moans still falling from my mouth.

"what. the. FUCK."

chris and i's head snap to the side, nick and matt are standing there, their faces pale.

chris instantly pulls my tanktop up, covering my bare chest before anything. he pulls out and yanks up his pants and stands infront of me.

"i-" chris starts, but gets cut off by nicks voice

"i cant believe this, get the fuck out of my house y/n!" nick yells, pointing towards the door.

i reach down and grab my shorts, yanking them up and jumping off the countertop and running over to nick. my breathing is heavy, i feel physically sick.

"get away from me!?" nick looks down at me with disgust, i turn to matt

"don't look at me, that was gross." matt says, matt never gets angry at me.

matt treats me like a little sister, he stands up for me when nick blows up, i can't name a time when we've fought.

i look back at chris, who looks fucking terrified.

"please- please let me talk to you matt" i plead, my lip trembling and my face burning from embarrasment.

"no, no i'm not dealing with this right now im fucking tired y/n." matt raises his voice at me,

"fuck, off! get out of this house?" nick shouts, i look back at chris before grabbing my phone,

i walk out of the house and run towards my car, tears streaming down my face.

i swing open the door to my car which is in their driveway, and just jump in, not stable enough to drive right now.

i sob into my hands, i've possibly just lost 3 of my closest friends.

"no- no no!" i panic,

suddenly the door to the passenger side swings open, chris leaps in.

my head snaps up to look at chris, "don't cry, please dont cry we will fix this, i promise." chris's voice is shaky, equally as shocked as i am

"nick and matt hate me- i'm so sorry chris" i sob, chris leans over the center console and wraps his arms around me.

"don't apologise sweetheart." chris whispers into my hair.

"come, come on into the back" he says, my eyebrows twist

"im not fucking you right now chris!" i yell,

chris places a hand on my shoulder "no-! no not to fuck just so we can talk with space" he says frantically.

"oh." i sniffle, crawling into the backseat.

chris jumps into the backseat with me, pulling me onto his lap before starting.

"you've known us, for what, 8 years? one slip up with nick isn't gonna ruin 8 years of friendship, and i'm promising you that." he speaks softly, running his hands through my hair.

"i know nick and matt better than anyone, and they won't let you go that easily yeah?"

"we have two options here okay? the first one is we could go back inside and i'll get them to talk to us, we can talk it out and whatever happens, happens." chris states, his tone calm.

"or... you go home for the night, just tonight back at you're apartment and think over what you want to say, then come back tomorrow morning when nick's cooled down."

i wipe my eyes on chris's chest before giving my awnser.

"i think.. i want to stay in the car for a few minutes then go talk to them." i sniff,

"okay." chris replies.

"what are we gonna do chris? y'know are we gonna stop..?" my voice wobbles.

"we will figure that out after talking with nick and matt yeah?" chris breathes.

we sit in silence for a couple minutes, i copy chris's breathing to calm myself down until my tears slowly come to a halt.

"you ready?" he asks, i nod before shifting off chris's lap. i take a grip on the door handle and step back out onto the sturniolo's driveway, the cold night hair hits me hard due to the fact its now past midnight.

im scared to say the least, nick's told me so many times that i can't like his brothers romantically. i broke his trust.

chris follows close behind me as i walk up the steps on the porch.

the warm light from the inside of the house fills my vision while i step foot indoors.

"i'll wait.. in here." chris whispers, sitting down on the couch by the door.

i drag myself down the corridor, i stop at matt's room realising that he'll be the easiest to talk to.

i slowly creak open his door, he's sat on his bed, resting his back against the headboard.

"matt..?" i say softly, my voice can't get any louder.

he looks up at me with a small hum.

"pl-please come into nicks room i need to speak to you guys." i squeeze out, matt nods silently.

i walk out of matts doorway into nicks, just opposite matts room.

i knock softly on the white wood of nicks room. "what." i hear him say blankly,

i open his door and his face drops when he sees me, "please fuck off" he mumbles, "nick come on, i need to talk." i sigh.

"why aren't you on chris's dick right now, unexpected from you." nick bites back

“stop!” my voice wobbles as i attempt to i raise it. matt shortly walks in nicks room aswell, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“can we talk like fucking adults?” matt mutters, i nod and my gaze shifts towards matt.

i carefully sit down on the end of the bed, facing the two brothers in silence

“are you ‘gonna fucking speak or do i have to call in chris to make you more comfortable cause CLEARLY you two are very comfortable with each other.” nick mocks,

i throw my head into my hands in frustration,

“nick look, i’m so sorry i know it was wrong.” i start,

“i’m going to tell you everything because you deserve to know, i’ve already broke your trust enough and i’m not afraid to literally do anything to gain it back, because i love you guys so much and- i really don’t want to loose what we have over something like this.” i start to ramble, something i do when i get nervous

nick just nods along with matt.

“i’m not going to go into detail, but around 2 months ago chris and i fucked it was.. unexpected to say the least but i liked it.”

“oh spare me.” nick interrupts me,

“no- just let me speak nicolas! then the next week we.. uh, fucked and we decided to be friends with benefits. i really like your brother.” i confess shyly,

“i didn’t know how to tell you because i knew you would totally freak out— which i understand but i was scared to tell you nick because you’re my best friend.”

“we’ve been sneaking around for a couple weeks now and every time i feel guilty, because i love you and matt so much and i hate hiding shit from you.” i sniff, feeling myself tear up again.

“look you’ve got 2 options, you keep up this fucking friends with benefits with my triplet brother and stop coming round here, or you confess your new found love for him and actually date him, because i’m not putting up with you guys fucking in my house.” nick states angrily

“i’ll confess to him i just- i just really don’t want to loose you two and i made a big mistake.” my voice cracks into a loud sob, worry floods over matt’s face.

matt leans foward and wraps his arms around me, tugging me towards him.

“i’m so sorry.” i cry into matt’s shirt, “you’re okay.” matt rubs my back, his head shifts towards nick.

“i hope you know, if you two become something tonight don’t expect me to be ecstatic.” nick says, his tone more soft.

“you should go tell chris.” matt whispers into me hair, i nod and break away from the hug.

i swing my legs over the bed and stand up, i walk out of the bedroom down the corridor

i swing a left into the living room where chris is sitting spread across the couch

“hey- you okay? how’d it go?” chris asks, putting his phone down on his lap and looking up at me with doe eyes

i sit down next to him and cross my legs, “chris i need to tell you something.” i state, looking over at him

“anything, yeah?” chris replies with a soft smile.

“promise not to be mad?” i say softly

“i would never be mad at you, you know that” chris whispers

“i really really like you chris, and i have for ages and i don’t want to be friends, i want to be more.” i say

“you do?” chris asks, his eyes wide and cheeks flushes

“yeah a lot.” i shy, wiping my eyes.

chris grabs my jaw, pulling me into a delicate kiss.

as much as chris and i have fucked we’ve never kissed, not wanting to push the “friends with benefits”

i kiss him back, swinging my legs over his body straddling him. i tug lightly on his bottom lip with my teeth, smiling into his lips.

we slowly pull away, locking eyes with eachother.

“can i be your boyfriend?” chris laughs softly,

“please.” i whisper.

-

after chatting with chris on the couch for an hour about all the times we apparently ‘made it obvious’ we liked each other,

“i gotta tell nick, he told me to do this with matt.” i smile at chris, jumping off of chris lap and jogging down the hallway.

i swing open the door to nicks room, trying to conceal my excitement.

nick looks up at me with a small smile “yes..” he drags out.

“chris is my boyfriend.” i whisper, nick smiles widely along with matt.

“promise no more fucking on my countertop now?” nick laughs.

“pinky promise.” i say leaping onto the bed and locking nick and i’s pinky’s

“for the record i’m happy for you too” matt grins, i wrap my arms around matt.

“i’m sorry again for earlier, it was just heat of the moment.” i sigh,

“yeah only had to rinse my eyes 76 times.” nick scoffs,

“i’m sorry!!!” i laugh, slapping nick lightly

————-

taglist:

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 2

content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!

word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.

GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.

GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.

“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”

“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.

GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.

GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.

GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.

GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.

“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”

Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.

“Wow…”

No, that’s corny.

“Loving the blue…”

Is he a frat guy?

“You look stunning”

Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.

GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.

He’s hard. Again.

He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.

He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.

He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.

“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”

He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.

GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.

He can never be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.

GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.

“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”

Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:

“Don’t ever question my game again”

"? Wtf are you talking about"

Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.

GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.

It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.

You looked soft, adorable, kissable.

He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.

dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵

a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭

Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵

Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺

[sooniebby]

Alr bro I am BACK from the Malevolent Kitchen- So this whole thing takes place in the Heian era, when Sukuna was at his strongest and walking around as a four armed, tall monster of a man (he has two massive dicks I am not being told otherwise don't even play, lad)

Reader (do I even gotta say it? I'm real predictable let's be fr 💀) as Sukuna's favourite shrine keeper- as he's speaking to some sorcerers (prolly begging for mercy or smth), he calls the reader over and commands him to strip and warm his (massive) cocks, all the while the poor sorcerers are just fucking sitting there. Eventually, he gets tired of the reader just warming his cocks and commands him to start moving, scoffing when the reader is too slow for his liking- ultimately he just grabs the reader's hips with his lower pair of arms, using him like a fleshlight,,,,,,,

ALSO if and only if you are feeling up to it,,,,, skip to modern day when Sukuna gets incarnated again and is immediately like okay where the fuck is reader (he's been alive with Uraume, which is why he hasn't physically aged, either) so he can drag the reader into his innate domain and get his dick wet after centuries of no bf :((( kinks- degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism

ఌ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

꧁ 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 9.1k

Warnings › first time ever writing Sukuna. Reader is trans male and he has breasts. Use of breasts and chest is interchangeable. Pussy, cunt, and hole are also used. Sukuna is still very mean but I made him just a little bit nicer, cuz romance lmao. Mentions of suicide. Boku is the JPN male version of I. Reader slurs his speech a lot

Kinks › degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism, nipple play, creampie, breast/chest play

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Wakizashi.

That’s what your dad called it. A Wakizashi. Shorter than a katana, larger than a dagger. The only weapon a civilian could handle in broad daylight without being seen as a threat. Many used it as a way to commit suicide.

He told you to use it for that reason.

It was the only good thing you could do.

The Fujiwara clan was powerful. No doubt about it. And while your father wasn’t the strongest, he was well respected. Many were excited when his wife was pregnant with you. Even when you came out as a girl, they weren’t too disappointed. Even a woman could be a strong sorcerer.

But you never did.

You had a curse technique.

But it was weak. It was fully based on defense.

The technique to manipulate shadows. But it was only your own. You could hide well but how does that help you in combat?

Didn’t help when you started spewing “nonsense” of not being a woman.

That earned you multiple whippings.

Everyone in the clan stopped paying attention to you after that moment. Your back covered in scars.

And the one large scar across your face.

Your Wakizashi flickered in the soft pale moonlight. The gold casing shining proudly. You took great care of it.

The harsh patters of feet caught your attention. You stood up from your makeshift mat, shuffling over to the small crack in your dilapidated cabin. It was practically a box. You glanced out, seeing multiple assassins hurriedly rushing out.

It looked to be the entirety of the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and then Five Empty Generals. Odd.

You shrugged it off, going back to lay down. You turned your attention back to your Wakizashi. It was the only thing you had in this box. You flicked your wrists, practicing your technique.

Even though you were weak, you still practiced everyday. With a sigh, you collapsed onto the bed. The rebellions you used to do as a child seemed so silly now. Cutting your hair, bathing with men, wearing male kimonos. Just to be locked away in the corner of your own home.

The door was unlocked but they made sure to make you fear even pushing it open.

Your mother took pity on you, being the one to deliver you food. You were sure that if she didn’t, you would’ve starved to death. But she seemed to be late today.

The soft sound of wind creaked against the old box. It shook slightly, always threatening to just collapse over you. Your eyes fluttered closed, clutching your Wakizashi close. It was only a few minutes later when the sounds of screaming caught your attention.

“He’s here!”

“Do not run away! We are the Toh!”

You sat up, staring at your door as the screams women, men, and even children reverberated through the cabin. Your grip tightened around the Wakizashi, bringing it up to your chest. Slowly, you crawled over to the door, pulling it inward to peek outside.

The sight… was horrific.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Weapons scattered. Arms detached. Heads rolling off bodies. Even a few bodies didn’t have the upper half. Many sliced into pieces.

You wanted to vomit. Who was doing this?

The Toh… was defeated.

You stepped outside the cabin, your bare feet touching the soft grass. The grass was colored red as you walked over to the piles of bodies. Your eyes scanning them, being able to name at least a fraction of the corpses. Underneath one, your mother’s eyes stared right at you.

Your breathing hitched, your hand clamping around your mouth. Despite the cruelty they gave you—it was difficult seeing them like this. The further you walked to the entrance of the Toh estate, the more gruesome each body became.

A few just being blood splattered against the floor.

“(Name).”

You shrieked, feeling a hand grasp your leg. It wasn’t someone you knew but her eyes were filled with fear. Blood trickled down her face.

“Run…. For your own sake.” She whispered.

Your eyes trailed over her body before you backed away.

The lower half of her body was gone.

Her arm fell down as her eyes closed.

You needed to run. If people as powerful as your clan were dropping like flies, you’d be killed immediately if this thing came to see you.

You began to run. Ignoring the bodies you had to jump or step over. You kept your eyes straight ahead. The Wakizashi tight in your grip. You hoped and prayed you would make it out free.

“Sukuna, is there any you want for dinner later?”

A horrid gasp left your body as you skid to a stop.

Your dad’s head hung from the grasp of a person. They were dressed in a kimono, short white hair. They held your father’s head up to a… thing behind them. The thing took your father’s head and examined it before tossing it aside.

“Not that one. Look for another.”

Its voice shook your body. The two of them were speaking as if they were looking at meat. Did they eat humans? But the white haired one looked like a human. You didn’t get the chance to think further when they suddenly turned over to you.

“Was something there?” The white haired one asked.

They saw nothing. The spot you once stood was empty, the only sight being corpses. They turned over to the thing, Sukuna.

“Go look for acceptable meat, Uraume.”

“Yes, Sukuna.”

Uraume began to move a few of the bodies about, looking for one that was acceptable for Sukuna. Sukuna hummed, cracking his neck as he looked around. His staggering form covered in blood. He stared in the direction of where you once stood.

You kept silent, staring right back at him. You had hastily summoned your curse technique, making yourself invisible to the naked eye. Your curse technique allowed you to hide in the shadows and even manipulate your own to hide yourself.

But it wasn’t strong, you could never hold it for longer than five minutes. And you haven’t eaten all day, you were weak. Hiding yourself physically didn’t hide any noises you made. So you clamped your lips shut, trying to not breathe, hoping he’d look away.

If you moved, he’d surely hear your footsteps, especially with how quiet it was. Your knuckles turned white as you clamped tightly at your Wakizashi.

Unable to hold it any longer, you let out a soft huff, pulling in as many air as possible.

But that was enough for Sukuna.

A large puff of air attacked you as you lost control of your technique, suddenly becoming visible. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock as you stared up at Sukuna.

He was large. Four arms and two faces. His eyes narrowed at you, glancing over you as he began to smirk. Blood covered his body. You knew your father and mother’s blood was mixed in there.

“How could I have missed you? You puny little thing.” He reached over to grab your hair but it went right through your body. Sukuna huffed, slightly confused on what just happened.

Your other ability, besides just becoming one with shadows, was the short ability to make your body unable to be touched. Sukuna pulled back clamping his fist before thrusting it into your chest.

It went through, but he didn’t kill you. Sukuna pulled his arm away, his head tilting. He didn’t look angry, on the contrary. He looked amused.

You quickly pulled the sheath off your Wakizashi and stood up on shaky legs. You had never fought. Never even used the Wakizashi against a real opponent besides a tree.

Sukuna chuckled. “Do your best.” He said, grinning. It was no encouragement. He didn’t even move into a fighting stance. Just from a look at you, he knew he was going to win.

“Domain Expansion: Moonlight Paradise.”

Dark matter spilled out from the ground as it formed into an orb around you and Sukuna. Your domain wasn’t strong. It wasn’t anything that helped you win fights.

It was a paradise.

A crescent moon shined, adding light to the otherwise dark domain. Spider lilies grew from the ground, surrounding you like a barrier of protection. A large sakura tree sprouted from the ground, growing tall as it quickly blossomed.

You shivered as you looked up at Sukuna. A feeling of bile filled your throat as you doubled over and coughed out blood. Sukuna looked at you with disgust, the hell was this?

“Is this your best?” He asked, stepping over to you. He was hoping for some sort of fight. But this was all you had to offer? A piss poor attempt at a domain.

You held out your Wakizashi, handing the hilt to Sukuna.

“If… die…” You winced, unsure of how to explain yourself. You weren’t taught to speak. Not after your whipping at age 9. And with everyone no longer speaking to you, you hadn’t spoken in years. Your voice was hoarse, struggling to work after years of being dormant.

You made the effort to write and read. But you stopped speaking. You hated your voice. This female voice that wasn’t yours.

Even now, just hearing your voice made you angry.

It’s a shame you were going to die with this voice.

“If…I…must die…You…willdo..bymy…Wakizashi.”

“Boku?” Sukuna muttered, staring at you. His eyes roamed your body. You weren’t a man. Not by the sight of your ample chest. You were wearing a female kimono. But your hair was cut short by a blade, judging by the jagged ends.

“Boku!” You screamed, glaring at him. You weren’t going to die being misgendered. You were going to die with the pride of being a male.

Sukuna grabbed the Wakizashi. It was small in his large hand. He lazily spun it around, making you slightly worried that he’d break it.

“You call yourself a man but you give up so easily?” He tossed the Wakizashi to your feet. “Pick it up. You have a technique, use it.”

You bent down, picking it up. “Nouse…strongerthan… me.” You could tell he had a bit of trouble understanding you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your death to be over with.

“Why the domain?”

“diein…pretty…place..”

Sukuna glanced around. Your domain seemed to be just for aesthetic. There wasn’t any hint of anything else brewing inside. Nothing that was waiting to attack him. You really seemed set on dying without a fight.

You knew your place quite well.

He liked that.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Your own peaceful domain was torn to shreds as red covered the sky. A large Buddhist shrine grew out of the ground behind Sukuna. Skulls decorated it. It looked to be human skulls. The ground beneath you became dark water.

But your spider lilies stayed alive. The crescent moon still shining down on you.

Sukuna sat down on his throne, his leg resting against the arm. He stared down at you, his eyes roaming you from his new position over you.

The Sakura tree died, disappearing like a puff of smoke. You collapsed to the floor and coughed heavily, the toll of opening your domain already affecting your body.

“Are you from the Toh?” He suddenly asked.

You mutely nodded.

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, trying to ignore the growing pit of fear in your belly. He smirked, leaning forward. One of his hands resting on his knee. The other holding up his chin.

“I find you interesting. I’ll allow you to live, as my shrine keeper. Once I’m bored, I’ll kill you.”

“inmy…domain..?”

“If that’s what you desire.”

Despite the voices in your head tell you to not accept, you nodded. You knew at most, this curse would only let you live for a day or two before he kills you. At the very least, you’d get to enjoy Earth’s beauty in the fullest.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re filthy.”

A basin of water poured over your head as you shivered outside, fully nude. Your arms tightened around your chest as you were soaked twice before a rag began to rub against your body.

It was Uraume. They weren’t impressed that Sukuna had chosen to keep you alive. You were weak, what did Sukuna gain from keeping you?

But Uraume didn’t question it. They knew their limitations.

“When was the last time you bathed?”

You winced, being roughly manhandled to face Uraume as they kneeled down, scrubbing between your legs.

“River…bathein..River.”

Uraume hummed. Their hand trailed upward, unabashedly scrubbing your pussy before moving to your ass. “What’s your technique? Or were you not blessed with one?”

“Shadows.”

“How does it work?”

You bit your lip, unable to stop the slight giggle when Uraume moved up to your ribcage. They stopped for a second, believing they had hurt you until you gave a slight smile. They huffed and continued on, making sure no part of your body was left untouched.

With the moonlight shining down on you, you glanced down at Uraume’s shadow. You reached out and gently poked the shadow’s cheek. Uraume stopped, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You couldn’t help but grin. You grabbed the shadow’s hair, twirling a strand. A strand of Uraume’s hair began to twirl as if a finger was doing it. But there was nothing holding it up.

“You can manipulate shadows?”

“Mhn…justtouch.” You slurred. “Can’t…domuch…wasn’t…taught.”

You stepped away, shyly smiling as you slowly disappeared into your own shadow. Uraume hummed, nodding themselves as they watched you come back up.

“Can’t…hidefor…long. Noise…canbe…heard.”

“Do you have no offense attack?”

You shook your head. “Touch…couldbe…offensive…buti…can’t… can’t handle…weapons..too…weak.”

“I don’t believe that. Every curse can be offensive. You simply wasn’t trained properly.” Uraume walked over, grabbing the basin filled with water. They brought over your head and dumped it, ignoring your slight shriek at the cold water.

“It won’t matter now. Sukuna more than likely won’t let you live longer than a day. It’s a shame.” They draped a small towel over your body. “Use this to dry off. I’ll retrieve your clothing.”

As you dried off, you thought about what they said.

Was that true?

Could you use your technique for offense?

It made sense. You were never taught to try as you had quickly mastered hiding first. And then the whole problem of your stunts of being a male, it’s no wonder you stuck to defense.

It was the only way you could protect yourself from such hatred.

It didn’t matter now though. You were going to die in a day, anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It’s been months.

It’s been months and you were still alive.

It was shocking. After the first day, you were so sure you were going to die. But Sukuna didn’t even pay attention to you. He walked right past you. He hardly talks to you at all.

You stuck to cleaning his shrine, most of the time.

Even Uraume seemed surprised you even made it to a week. But soon, they started to treat you… decently? They showed you how to cook certain meals and if they were up to it, taught you ways to use your curse technique in an offensive manner.

“Speak slowly.” Uraume said, sitting across from you in the small room. You and Uraume lived in a small minka, just a few feet away from Sukuna’s shrine. He seemed to have two shrines, one in his domain and the other here.

You sighed, nodding your head. Uraume would sometimes hold speaking lessons. They had gotten tired of having to listen to your almost incoherent way of speech.

“I…wield…theknife—”

“—The. Knife.”

“The…Knife…”

“Continue.”

“The…Knife…to…cut…meat.”

“Good enough. Go bathe.”

You nod, grabbing your Wakizashi and walking outside. Since the minka was small, the shower area was just outside the home. Your robes pooled around your feet as you filled in the basin, yawning to yourself.

“You’re still here?”

A chill rushes up your spine as you look back, gasping in shock. It was Sukuna. He stood only a few feet away from you, his eyes trailing down your nude body. You blush, using your hands to cover your crotch and chest from his gaze.

“whatdo…you..mean..? Why…wouldi..leave?”

Sukuna smirked. “You have no sense of free will. You had multiple attempts to run away. Uraume can’t sense you when you use your technique. Yet you’re still here.” He walks over to you, kneeling down to your level. You gulp, wondering if this is the moment of your demise.

His hand reaches out, coming into close contact with your face.

Your eyes clamp shut, leaning away.

But he doesn’t hurt you.

You feel a hand squeeze your right breast. You open one eye and look down. Sukuna’s hand squeezes your breast as he hummed in satisfaction.

“It’s soft.” He said.

“Mngh?!” You shriek, unable to really move in fear he’d tear you in two.

Two of his hands grasp both of your legs, spreading them open as you cry out. You were practically manhandled, spread open for his eyes to see. Your hands flung to his chest, embarrassment filling your chest as you tried to calm down your heavy breathing.

“If you wish to keep living, become useful to me.”

“Useful…?”

“I already have a cook. I need pleasure in other ways.”

A feather like touch teased your cunt. You gasped, looking down to see his one free hand slightly teasing your cunt. You’ve never touched yourself down there. It felt odd. You didn’t understand how this could give him any sort of pleasure.

Sukuna seemed to notice your confusion as he chuckled lightly, manhandling you to rest on your back, legs still held up high.

“I will simply train you to handle me.” Two fingers sinked into your tight heat. You felt your body thrash against his hold, believing he was somehow killing you. It felt strange. So strange to have something inside you.

Was this apart of his technique?

Would you explode if he curled his finger?!

Sukuna chuckled, enjoying your fearful expression. “Relax. Pleasure will soon consume you.” The fingers began to slowly move in and out, rubbing against your wet walls. You gasped, toes slightly curled as something weird began to burrow in your belly.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, causing you to cry out. That seemed to be your weakness. For the next few minutes, he slowly teased your cunt open, occasionally rubbing your clit. Your body stopped thrashing but you couldn’t help but arch your back, biting your lip as screams threatened to live your throat.

“eeeeh…pee..pee..!” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes. Sukuna’s fingers didn’t stop, instead they continued. Even as you continued to cry that you were about to piss, Sukuna only laughed.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his fingers as you felt your body spasm. A moan left your throat as something washed over you. You felt…good?

What was this? Why did you feel so sleepy?

With what little strength you had left, you grabbed your Wakizashi and held it against his chest, glaring up at him. Sukuna released your legs and grabbed your hand, simply having to squeeze it to have you release the Wakizashi.

You felt too sluggish to actually put up a fight.

“You orgasm but still have the energy to use a weapon.” He laughed to himself. “You truly are interesting.”

He stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor, legs spread open.

Just…. What the fuck was that?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Orgasm.

It was an orgasm.

And Sukuna had been giving it to you constantly.

He appeared more frequently at the minka. He grabbed you whenever he pleased, even if Uraume was in the area. Spreading your thighs as he fingered your heat. He would sometimes squeeze your breasts, always commenting that it was his favorite body part of yours.

You were even forbidden from wearing underwear.

Easy access, apparently.

Uraume didn’t seem to comment or care about this new development. They simply helped you bathe whenever you were too tired. You still had your occasional lesson on speech and offense but you weren’t making much progress.

But somehow, the crazy murder, Uraume was encouraging. Believing it was just difficult for you to let go of old habits, especially in speech. You still couldn’t believe that they were a ruthless killer by how nicely they treated you.

It had been close to a year now.

You still thought about your clan. The massacre that happened right in front of you. But you couldn’t mourn them. Not after how they treated you. Such cruelty.

Sukuna and Uraume treated you like a male.

How could monsters treat you so well but not your own family?

There were days Uraume and Sukuna were gone. Those days you knew they were killing some other clan. Killing any sorcerers that dared stumble onto their path. But you never ran away.

Despite the amount of times you could.

You just never did.

Your fingers traced against Sukuna’s shrine, making sure there was no dust collecting on it. This was one of the rare occasions you were in his domain. But there were other sorcerers here—they were on their knees, pleading for their life.

You didn’t look at them at all, not wanting to be reminded of their humanity. To be reminded that Sukuna was a ruthless killer. That you were lucky you could stand near him and not fear death.

“(Name).”

You glanced up, looking over to see Sukuna motion for you to come over. Your bare feet pattered against the dark water as you went over to him, standing up straight as you waited for whatever he could want.

“Sit.”

When you moved to kneel, Sukuna grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You cried out, feeling your body freeze at the sudden closeness. You’ve never been so close to him. Being able to feel his breathing. The slow swell of his chest.

He began speaking to the sorcerers again but you didn’t pay attention. Hypnotized by this new position. Your hand slowly rested against his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder. You looked so small against him.

You couldn’t help but sniff the air, wondering if he had a scent.

He didn’t.

You stayed on his lap for a moment, wondering if he had just wanted you to cuddle him but you felt something twitching against your crotch. It was thick. Being strained by his robes. You wondered if it was just his knee but it kept twitching.

It was strange. It pressed against your cunt, earning a whimper from you. You had gotten so sensitive down there, easily orgasming when Sukuna touched you.

There was a tug at your robes as it was pulled down, causing you to gasp. Your breasts plopped out but you quickly covered them. It was luck that you had your back facing the sorcerers. Though they seemed to have stopped talking—only their soft whimpering and cries heard.

Sukuna didn’t say a word as he pulled open his own robe, two cocks springing free. You stared at it in shock. You’d never seen anything like it. It’d been years since you saw male genitalia. Did all males have two? That seemed a bit much.

You were glad you didn’t have any. It looked to be a pain to have to walk with something so huge between your legs. They pressed against your pussy—teasing your entrance. You backed away a little, only to have Sukuna grip your waist with his two lower hands.

“I trained you for this.” He simply said before turning his attention back to the pitiful sorcerers.

Training?

That training was for this?

Is that even safe?

You felt nervous. That… thing was supposed to go inside you? It wouldn’t kill you? You slowly sat up, hesitantly hovering over his cocks. The thought of putting two in so quickly, you didn’t think you could handle it. So you settled for one at a time.

The bottom cock slowly nestled inside your cunt as you eased it inside. It wasn’t painful but you didn’t like the feeling. It was odd, different than Sukuna’s fingers. His hands squeezed your waist once you finally bottomed out.

You glanced up, seeing his eyebrow raised. It was easy to tell that he was amused you could only fit one. You pouted, burying your face in his chest. He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t even know cocks could go inside a person! How could you fit two in the first try.

His second cock rested against your tummy. It looked a bit dejected. You kinda felt bad.

Sukuna and the sorcerers continued their conversation. You couldn’t pay it much attention. Your pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Your fingers clutched at his robe as you took deep breaths, beginning to feel weird with the thick cock spreading you full.

The sound of someone screaming caught your attention, but when you made the effort to turn around, Sukuna kept you still. He pushed you to rest against his chest, face smushed against his shoulder.

Someone was killed.

It was silent for a few more minutes before the remaining sorcerers began to speak about festivals they would hold in Sukuna’s honor. Sukuna’s cock twitched inside you. Huh, he must find that arousing.

Your eyes fluttered, sleep almost taking you over until Sukuna’s hands tightened around your waist. You felt your body be lift up until he slammed you back down. Your back arched as you screamed out.

The pain of the sudden movement somehow made you feel good. He bounced you on his cock as if you were nothing but a plaything. His grunts filling the domain. You were so happy he couldn’t see the sorcerers eyes on you, watching as you were used by the King of Curses for his own personal pleasure.

The thought of anyone in your clan knowing too brought fear inside your heart.

Any sort of pleasure you were feeling left. Your eyes fluttered closed as you just allowed Sukuna to take whatever he pleased. The reality of your situation had hit. You were nothing.

A toy for Sukuna.

Pitiful.

You were fucking pitiful.

Something warm erupted inside your heat, coating your walls. You let out a shuddered gasp, unable to ignore the small amount of pleasure that brought you. There was something white coating your tummy from his second cock.

Was this sperm?

It didn’t matter.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

You proved your father right.

You were only good for one thing.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Wakizashi.

The Wakizashi was smaller than a katana, bigger than a dagger. A weapon civilians could carry around safely.

A weapon many used in suicide.

It was midnight. The moon shining down at you. You stood deep in the forest, bare feet touching the soft grass. You always loved the beauty of nature. The one thing that couldn’t be tainted.

You wore the female kimono you were forced to wear in the Toh. Despite the trauma, you still held the kimono close to you. It was made by your mother.

Your Wakizashi was held tightly in your hand. Its sharp blade glistening in the pale moonlight. You slowly widen your stance, arms gently moving into position as you whispered those faithful words.

“Domain Expansion: Midnight Paradise.”

The paradise soon engulfed you. The familiar spider lilies blooming around you. Sakura petals fluttering from the makeshift sky. It was peaceful.

The ground, however, was dark water.

You’d never done that before. Sukuna must’ve rubbed off on you. A bitter laugh left you. You really allowed a curse to take you—allowing it to plant itself into your heart.

The Wakizashi felt heavy in your grip. Even as you placed the blade against your neck, your hand shook. It rattled in your hand as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t even know why you were hesitating. Sukuna didn’t like you.

He used you for pleasure—he said it himself.

You were simply doing him a favor.

Your grip tightened as you sighed. It would be okay. This is what you always wanted.

Maybe, you’ll be born to a happy family.

The blade cut clean through your throat, blood oozing out. You dropped the Wakizashi as you collapsed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you accepted your death.

Only for you to realize you weren’t bleeding anymore.

You reached up and touched your throat, feeling a scaring instead of the open wound. It… healed?!

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

“You humans are amusing.” The calming paradise bursts—Sukuna’s shrine appearing in front of you. The spider lilies stayed, curling around you as if it was comforting you. “You seem to have forgotten you belong to me.”

Sukuna appeared on the throne, staring you down with a glare. “I choose when you die. I will grant you the freedom of death. Now, come here.”

You slowly sat up, staring at him in shock. You had so many questions. How? Why? What did he do to make you live?

“Come here. Now.” He said, his tone stern. You stood up on shaky legs, slowly walking over to him. His body seemed larger than before. His eyes narrowing at every movement you took.

Sukuna grabbed your kimono as soon as you were close enough and tore it open. It ripped to shreds, falling to your feet in minutes. You held back your tears, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“(Name), you will look me in the eye when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, feeling your body hiccup as your tears began to flow. Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes roaming your nude body. He stood up and gripped your face, moving your face upwards.

You expected anger. His cruelty to show for your actions. But his thumb gently traced the scaring across your face. It was from the whipping back then. It was jaggeder, covering your left eye to your right cheek. It was pure luck that you could even see from that eye.

“This body,” his hands trail down to your throat, tracing your new scar across your throat, “isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. If you wish to die so badly it’ll be my hands.”

His grip tightened, causing you to gasp, your hands clutching at his arm. He stared you down, eyes showing no sign of any heart. But he didn’t strangle you. He moved down, grasping your right breast.

“Humans are insignificant. You should be grateful that I keep you alive. Your only purpose is to please me.” He pushed you into the ground as you gasped out, staring up at him as he kneeled down, tearing off his own robes.

You parted your legs, not even attempting to fight back. But you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted him.

Sukuna smirked. “Some man you are. Whoring yourself so easily.”

“itsokay…becauseits…Sukuna…” You whispered, giving him a soft smile through your tears. Sukuna froze for a moment, staring down at you as he grunted in anger. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close, rubbing his cocks against your pussy.

“You know your place now?”

“Mmmmh. Sukuna’s…”

Sukuna chuckled, his lips slightly tugging into a smile. It was odd. You felt safe in his presence. The dark thoughts swirling in your brain felt like nonsense when you were near him. But you didn’t know why.

It felt counterintuitive to feel safe in the arms of a man that committed a massacre.

His degradation felt like care. He used a technique to save you.

He must care about you.

Even if the way he showed it was cruel.

Perhaps you weren’t mentally sane.

More than likely.

You reached over, grasping two of Sukuna’s hands and bringing it to your breasts. He easily squeezed them both, pulling at your nipples. A shuddered breath left your lips as you whimpered.

“You must be punished—for damaging my possession.” You feel his cocks teasing your pussy. There was no getting out of it. You’ll be taking both at the same time.

Slowly, inch by inch, his two cocks sinked into your pussy. It was painful—nothing you could have ever imagine. Your breathing shuddered, hands gripping at his shoulder for some form of relief.

How could anyone like this?

Two of his hands gripped your breasts while the other two held your waist down, keeping you still. You wanted to thrash around, pull away due to the pain but he was too strong. But even though it was so painful, your cunt clenched around his cocks.

Your hands moved downwards, tracing his abs as you giggled to yourself. Being so close to him, you could finally take a good look at him.

The black markings all over his body. The second face. His four large arms.

He looked better in the moonlight.

Your hand moved away from his chest, reaching over to grab your Wakizashi. With a swiftness, one of Sukuna’s hands grabbed your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Wakizashi.”

You managed to pull your wrist away and grab the Wakizashi. You used your other hand to grab one of his and place it over the other gripping the Wakizashi. Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, his eyebrows raising as he watched you with curiosity.

“Myheart…and….Wakizashi…belongto…Sukuna…Ryomen.”

A childish grin spread on your lips as you leaned up and gently kissed Sukuna’s hand that gripped yours. You looked up, unsure if Sukuna understood you. He seemed to have trouble understanding your form of speech.

But the look he gave you was scary. It was as if he was angry but also… lustful?

He released his grip on your hand and reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen, your hand releasing the Wakizashi. It clattered onto the floor before being pushed away by Sukuna.

You didn’t know curses could kiss.

You never thought a curse would be your first kiss.

But you eagerly kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He manhandled you to lay back down your back as two hands lifted your legs. You almost forgot all about his cocks inside of you.

His hips moved back before slamming forward, causing your body to jostle from the force. You screamed out, nails beginning to claw at his back as he took you.

The sounds of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain. Sukuna’s cocks stretched you full, reaching so deep inside you worried he’d spilt you open. You glanced down, seeing the soft tell sign of something bulging against your stomach.

From the inside…

Was that his cock?

Curses were insane.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, your cunt clamping tightly around his cocks. But he didn’t let up, using you like a sex toy. Though it didn’t bother you this time—you liked it.

Sukuna’s hips slammed into you as the warm sperm began to coat your inner walls. That was fast.

You glanced up at Sukuna to see him looking away, as if he was also shocked he came that fast. A cocky grin appeared on your lips as you giggled, pressing kisses on Sukuna’s cheek.

“Wasi…thatgood?” You asked, looking up at him with eyes that resembled a puppy. Sukuna didn’t answer, simply pulling away from you despite your whines.

“I’m hungry. Go tell Uraume to cook me a meal.” Sukuna bluntly said, standing up as he slipped back into his robes. You simply wrapped an arm around your chest and clamped your legs closed for decency.

You reached over to grab your Wakizashi when it was quickly taken from you. Your eyes nervously turned over to Sukuna, watching as he lazily flipped the weapon before hiding it in his robe.

“Uhm….my…”

He smirked, “did you not say that it belongs to me now?”

You frowned. Well now you regretted that.

“You’ll earn it once you learn your place. Now go.” His eyes trailed down to the new scar on your throat. You could never tell what Sukuna was feeling but you could’ve sworn he seemed… upset at the sight. But his face quickly became neutral as he walked back to his shrine, sitting down and getting comfortable.

Your fingers gently traced the scaring on your throat. You’ve never seen the technique Sukuna used. It wasn’t something anyone taught you. But it must’ve been a strong one.

And he used it to save you.

Was that….

Love? ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t gotten your Wakizashi back.

Sukuna would occasionally taunt you with it, threatening to snap it in half. But he never did. He seemed to enjoy your panicked responses.

He kept it close though. It was always tucked inside his robe. You wondered if he ever used it when he went on his sorcerer killing sprees. Not that he’d ever need to. He could kill towns in minutes.

But it felt nice to have him hold it.

Your speech was still terrible. Uraume was the only person who could understand you, especially when you spoke longer sentences.

“Andi…sawthe…bunnyrush…awaytothe…burrow..! Butigrabbed…thecarrots…itstole!”

“You should’ve killed the bunny.” Uraume responded, handing you a bowl of miso soup. They gave Sukuna a plate that looked to be human meat. You had gotten used to ignoring the smell.

Sukuna stared at you from across the table. “The bunny ran where?”

“Theburrow.”

“Uraume, I thought you were teaching him to speak clearly,” Sukuna said. Uraume shrugged as they sat down beside you.

“Teaching takes time. (Name) is twenty two, it’s harder to change habits by this age.”

It practically became a habit for you to constantly repeat yourself when speaking to Sukuna. Other times he’d tell you to stop speaking. He was still rude and a bit cruel.

But he certainly changed. Judging by the fact he’d occasionally kiss you. Though it wasn’t soft and romantic kisses. Most kisses would leave you breathless with bruised lips.

He still took you whenever he pleased. Having you ride him in front of people. That was still embarrassing. But you learned to live with it.

You were sitting outside, the moon shining down at you as you slowly weaved a bracelet with flower stems. There were three others scattered beside you, dawned with small chrysanthemums decorating them.

The thin robe you wore hardly covered you properly causing you to shiver at a particular rush of cool breeze. You grinned, holding the finished bracelet in triumph. They were larger than your wrists, having been made as large as possible.

As you grabbed the other three, two hands grasped your breasts, harshly squeezing them. You gasped, almost dropping the bracelets as you looked back to see Sukuna. He used his other two hands to lift you up, just as his domain opened around you both.

He sat at his shrine, settling you onto his lap. His hands pulled your robe off as you clutched the bracelets tightly, making sure to not accidentally drop them.

One of his hands trailed between your legs, easily teasing your pussy. You shivered, resting your head on his chest as he slowly teased you open. His large fingers slipped inside your cunt, stretching you out.

“Sukuna…” You mewled. “Gotyoupresent…”

You felt the loud reverberation of his grunt through his chest. It was somehow comforting that he had such human bodily autonomy. Your hands slowly opened, holding them up for him to see. Four brackets with red and white chrysanthemums in the center of the flower stems.

Sukuna grabbed one of them, examining it as his finger continued to stretch you open. He chuckled slightly, placing it back into your palms.

“I don’t need gifts from you.” He said, earning a frown from you. Your lips parted as you tried to argue back only for him to lean down and nip at your lips, kissing you with as much softness as he could possibly muster.

“I already own you.”

Your breathing hitched, staring up at him in shock. You eagerly kissed him back—moaning as he began to feverishly finger you open.

“Takeme…please.” You whispered, placing the brackets onto the ground as you moved to properly straddle him. Your hand pulled his robe open, allowing his cock to freely press against your thigh.

You shyly grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Useme…Sukuna Ryomen.”

Sukuna smirked, two of his hands instantly gripping your hips. “You don’t get to complain later.” He said before slamming you down onto his cock. You screamed out, the painful stretch bringing you a pleasure that you had learned to love.

He bounced you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. Your sweet, high pitched cries being music to his ears. The sight of you was intoxicating. Your breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts—your cunt clenching around his cocks like a vice.

And to think… he was going to kill you that day.

He would’ve missed out on such great pussy.

Whatever he felt for you, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he loved fucking you.

His hand reached down, kneading your ass. He leaned over and began to suckle on one of your nipples, earning a whine from you. You would always end up cumming more than twice, the least.

His name left your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulder as you wailed out.

You reached your first orgasm in minutes. He could always tell whenever you did. Your nose would scrunch up, lips curling into a frown, as your body began to stiffen. Your cunt would always tighten as well, practically begging him to fuck his cum into you.

The effect you had on him was different. He could last longer with random woman he found but with you… He always found himself releasing faster.

He bit down on your nipple, causing you to shriek at the pain. Despite the cries and whimpers you gave whenever he would intentionally hurt you. Twist a nipple too hard. Spank your ass a bit too red. You would always come back for more.

Fuck… just what have you done to him?

He pulled away from your breasts and pulled you closer, claiming your lips with anger. You helplessly kissed back—unable to really take any sort of control in the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, hiccuping as you nuzzled your face into his neck. He continued to bounce you on his cocks, getting you closer to your second orgasm.

It was unreal. To be so connected to a curse. The King of Curses no less.

You felt the quick swelling of his cocks, indicating he was about to cum. Your cunt tightened as much as it could, earning an animalistic grunt. He began to use you with no regard whatsoever to the bruising his grip left on your body.

He slammed into you just as his cocks began to cum deep inside you. You pulled him close to give him a kiss, reaching your own orgasm.

You didn’t know if what you felt for Sukuna was love. But you certainly didn’t want to live without him.

It’s a shame this would be the last day you saw him.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It was interesting to see Japan grow so much.

You didn't know that you would’ve been alive for so long. To not age at all. It was a blessing and a curse. You certainly stopped getting to know people, tired of seeing them grow old in age or even die by unfortunate events.

You would occasionally see how the sorcerers were doing. But you never got close—knowing you were technically a betrayer. Uraume was still with you though they would occasionally disappear to meet a man named Kenjaku.

Other curses still disgusted you so you never made any effort to speak to them like Uraume did. They kept speaking as if they could bring back Sukuna but you didn’t really believe it.

No, it was more so you didn’t think it would be a great idea. You’d lived longer than you’d been with Sukuna at this point. And while you still love him, you knew deep down humans were doomed if he were to come back.

The soft breeze gently flew past as you sat in the woods. Moonlight shining down on you as you moved to lay down.

Something felt off, but you had pushed the feeling away. Being able to live for so long should’ve been a blessing though you would occasionally wish to die.

But you never got your Wakizashi back. You assumed Sukuna died with it.

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.

People were nice. Many calling you a man. It was like a dream come true.

It was like two sides fought inside of you.

The need to protect human lives.

The want to kiss and hug Sukuna.

Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone normal?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You shouldn’t come to Shibuya tonight.”

The soft hums of the television almost entirely drowned out Uraume’s voice. You looked over at them, watching as they grabbed something from the closet. Shibuya?

“I haven’t been to Shibuya in a while.” You said, glancing back at the tv. Your style of speech was more coherent after centuries of practice. Though you would sometimes revert back when emotional.

“Why? Is something going to happen in Shibuya?”

Uraume simply hummed. “Could your body handle Sukuna today?”

You got up from the couch and walked over to Uraume. “Hm? Handle him?” Your hands rested against the countertop of the kitchen as you thought for a moment. “No. I haven’t had sex in centuries. I’m a virgin again.”

You giggled at your own joke while Uraume rolled their eyes.

They turned over to you, their eyes trailing over your body. “Your chest is bigger.”

You glanced down at your chest before glaring at them. “I just gained weight.”

“That’s a good thing.” They patted you on the back. “Bigger is better. I’ll be back.”

You mutely waved as Uraume left, humming to yourself. Bigger is better? You were pretty sure you had seen porn ads with that as a slogan. But there was a weird feeling your tummy. Why did Uraume suddenly ask you about Sukuna?

It been forever. Did they….

No. You pushed the thought away. You’d become a stuttering mess if Sukuna appeared in front of you.

But you were sure you’d kill him.

Just for leaving you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re okay keeping your face like that?”

“For now. If I’m going to be fighting amongst sorcerers, it’s better to maintain this kind of appearance.”

…..

“Where is he?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Uraume hasn’t been back for a while now. You didn’t get too worried, they had a habit of doing so. It mainly worried you that things seemed off. A massacre happened in Shibuya.

It felt too similar to his work.

You shrugged it off, knowing just how difficult to was to reincarnate Sukuna.

But what if…

You groaned in frustration. You needed to go visit the forest. Your favorite forest was all over the place. You would always change it whenever you felt tired of another. This forest was beautiful with a large crystal blue lake.

Small baby ducks floated about while its mother watched. You sat down right next to the lake, putting your feet in it for some cool water against your skin.

The pale moonlight shunned down on you, always being a comforting blanket. It would always calm you down. Your legs slowly treaded through the water, sending small waves to the ducks.

A giggle escaped your lips as you watched the baby ducks scatter at the sudden movement.

You leaned over and stared at your reflection, gently poking it with your index finger. Soft ripples carried across the lake.

Your mind began to blank as you yawned. The ease of distractions began to push away any worry you had before. Until you felt… something was off.

The forest was silent. No more soft rustle of the wind. Crickets. Birds. Even the ducks on the water were long gone. Something was wrong.

You slipped out of the water, glancing around. You slowly stood up and tried to ignore your own wishes for your Wakizashi. You’d get through without it.

But nothing happened. It was still—nothing came out and attacked you. You shook your head, scratching at your scalp as you turned back to face the lake.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Those words.

That voice.

The familiar black water pooled your bare feet. The same shrine covered in human skulls. The memories of cleaning it. Sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he taunted helpless sorcerers.

Spider lilies began to bloom around you, forming a circle. The moon was still shining down on you. You didn’t want to turn around. In fear of just how you’d react to seeing him.

Would he look the same? Did he still like you?

Did he ever like you?

You felt young again. The young and naive (Name) rushing back in. Who couldn’t speak properly. Who couldn’t fight to save his life.

Two hands suddenly appeared from behind you and spun you around.

He was still taller than you. His markings still all over his body. But his hair was black this time. He didn’t have two arms either. You almost didn’t believe it was him until a smirk spread on his lips.

Yeah… that’s your Sukuna.

Your body felt stiff as you slowly stepped forward before leaping into his arms. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you began to wail. Your hands gripped at his body—making sure this wasn’t a dream.

He was real. He was real.

“You’ve missed me, huh?” He teased, his hand trailing downwards to grip your hips. His thumbs sinked into your skin as if he was now checking if you were real too.

“Mhm….missedsukuna…solonely…” You whined, cursing when you noticed you couldn’t speak properly anymore. Now that was just embarrassing.

You continued hugging him, leaning in as close as humanly possible. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck.

You really did betray your clan, cuddling with the murderer.

A sudden squeeze at your breasts caught your attention. You pulled away a bit to see Sukuna squeezing both of your breasts together. He smirked, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples through the shirt.

“They’re bigger.”

You glared at him. “Stopit. Youcanttouch…meuntil…iget…Wakizashi!” Sukuna rolled his eyes but complied, pulling away as he reached into his robes. Slowly, he pulled out your Wakizashi. Its gold sheath somehow still shining proudly.

Your hands practically snatched it away from him as you held it in the air, letting the moonlight shine down on it.

As beautiful as you remembered.

It looked recently cleaned. You glanced back at Sukuna, biting your lip. He kept it safe. He kept your Wakizashi safe.

Which meant…

He kept your heart safe.

“Do I get a reward for keeping that pathetic excuse of a weapon safe?” Sukuna asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite his words, you knew he took its protection seriously.

You mutely nodded. “Didn’t….sleepwith…anyone. Not since…youwere…gone.” You slowly placed the weapon on the floor as you stepped over to Sukuna.

“Kept myself just for you.” You managed to say before looking down in embarrassment. “Istill…belong…to…sukunaryomen.”

A grip on your chin caused you to flinch as he forced you to look up at him. Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes roaming your face. The same whip scaring on your face almost gone in its entirety. The scar on your neck completely faded.

“I see I have to remind you of the rules.” He said, forcefully tutting your head around as he continued to look at you. “Let’s sey that cunt of yours can handle me.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You missed this. His fingers thrusting into your pussy as he stretched you. Roughly kneading your breast with his free hand. It was weird being only touched by two hands—you couldn’t wait until he got his normal body.

Your back arched, soft mewls leaving your lips. You were fully nude, sat atop of Sukuna’s lap as he sat on his throne. Your cunt was tight. You really haven’t touched yourself ever since Sukuna left.

“Were you waiting for me?” Sukuna suddenly asked, his thumb teasing your clit as you whimpered. “Waiting to be used as my whore again?”

“Nghhh…”

“I was waiting to fuck this pussy again.” He slowly spread your pussy open. “Squeezing your tits. All I had was that fucking Wakizashi of yours.” He muttered bitterly, slamming his fingers deep into your cunt. You cried out, your hips moving upward as you tried to catch your breath.

He didn’t care that it had been centuries since you had sex. He seemed to enjoy that you were so loyal to him that you practiced celibacy.

“You’re lucky I need to feel your pussy around my cock—you deserve a punishment for not fulfilling your duties.” He pulled open his robe, his cock springing out. Your shuddered, feeling it rub against your pussy.

“What…duties…?” You whispered.

Sukuna harshly squeezed your breast, pulling at the nipple. You cried out in pain—your body squirming in his grip as his cock began teasing your pussy.

“You must’ve forgotten your place.” He whispered into your ear. “No matter, I’ll remind you of it.”

His cock slammed into your pussy, ignoring your scream of pain. He was harsh and unforgiving. Your body spasmed as it tried to get used to the harsh thrusting. It’d been so long, you already felt yourself feel close to an orgasm.

Sukuna’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling them upward as he thrusted into your tight cunt. The sound of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the slight smile on your lips. You missed being used like a toy for his pleasure. A groan left you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Even as you orgasmed, Sukuna didn’t let you, using you to reach his own.

You felt his cock suddenly pulsate in you as warm cum filled your insides. A shuddered moan left your lips. You almost forgot just how warm sperm could be.

But you began to feel yourself being moved up and down. His hands moved to grip your waist, easily bouncing you on his cock. The overstimulation instantly caused you discomfort but your whines fell on deaf ears.

“I’ve been without your cunt for centuries.” He said, grunting as you clenched around his cock. Your hands gripped at his thighs. You couldn’t hold back your moans, they were on the verge of screams. It was so much for what was essentially your first time.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, smashing his lips into yours. You eagerly kissed back. The kiss reminded you of all the past ones. The bites on your lips. The feeling as if he was stealing your breath away.

As you pulled away, he gave you a lustful smirk.

“I intend to make up for lost time.”

You weren’t going to be able to walk for years.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

wowowo….my first fic at 10k words…. Jesus! I hope I did Sukuna justice <3

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @flurrina @mello-life69 @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @kiiyoooo @ac3ifix

[bbystark]

♡ hate needing you ♡

logan howlette (wolverine) x reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: you have daddy issues, logan just has issues. together you make quite the toxic combination. based on this request by @v3lv3tf0x

⚠︎ smut, including oral, p in v, etc. unhealthy relationship, very very very minor dubcon. angst :(

a/n: girl i haven't written smut in forever, i was in front of my computer for two hours sweatin. won't be proofreading since it's almost 5k words and mommy is tired. eat it up!!!!

You and Logan are in a dangerous cycle. You know he barely even tolerates you, probably only likes you for the release he gets, both literally and figuratively. You’re not any better, clinging onto him for attention, seeking his validation to soothe your insecurities. You don’t even get much from him, and that’s exactly the thing that made it so dangerous for you. He dangles just enough in front of you to reel you in, only to shove you back just out of arm's reach. 

Neither of you really realize it. At the surface you’re both aware you have a fair share of issues, things that you should really be working on as individuals. In the beginning of your toxic little dance Logan wanted nothing to do with it, and you similarly knew it was a dangerous path to head down. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It all really started the first moment you laid eyes on him. You were recruited by Charles, another traumatized mutant that could make a difference. You met Logan weeks after you’d moved into the mansion, coming back in the middle of the night smelling like whiskey and cigars. That alone had heat rising to your cheeks. You were in the kitchen in a cute pajama set, shorts riding up as you lounged on a chair and satisfied your midnight craving. When he walked into the kitchen doorway, massive shoulders making the frame seem small, you suddenly had a very different midnight craving. He was half glaring at you, still tipsy and angsty from his all-day bender. It sent a thrill through you, like you were being reprimanded. You felt the sudden need to be in his good graces, to replace his glare with a smile.  

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked while moving to the refrigerator and digging through the freezer. He pulls out a frost covered bottle of whiskey. 

“I’m y/n,” you watch as he sits across the table from you, chair protesting his weight. “y/n y/l/n. I started a few weeks ago.” 

He gives you a look, opening the bottle with his teeth and spitting the cork somewhere. You couldn’t help but stare. He takes it the wrong way in his hazy state, eyes connecting with yours as he takes several pulls from the bottle. 

“Got a staring problem? If you wanted some you coulda just asked bub.” He leans over the table, clumsily pouring a shot into your empty water cup. You blush a little, feeling silly as you take the cup and swirl the liquid around. It’s not at all what you wanted, but you felt like you had to impress him for some reason. 

He watched as you took a drink, eyebrows bunched together as you willed yourself not to spit it back into the cup. You coughed a little after it finally went down, wincing at the heat coating your throat. “That was disgusting.” 

He threw his head back and laughed. It’s deep and rich and suddenly you’re laughing too. “Shoulda known you couldn’t handle it, little thing like you in those cute little pjs. Doesn’t exactly scream whiskey lover.” 

You gave him a shy smile, and Logan tried very hard not to smile back, opting to take another swig of his “disgusting” whiskey instead. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Logan.” 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning Logan had woken up with a headache he knew would be gone within the next 15 minutes. He briefly recalls making it home, meeting you on his quest for more liquor. He’s almost embarrassed when he remembers he had laughed with you, even flirted a little. He had no interest in anything serious, not even a friend. He didn’t need one. 

He leaves his room in search of coffee and breakfast, almost startled when he saw you a few doors down. You happened to be leaving too, having an early training session. He can’t help but let his eyes wander, taking in your much too tight and very girly workout attire. He clears his throat when he finds he’s been looking at your ass a little too long, and you whip around. 

“Oh! Logan, hi. I didn’t see you there.” You notice he’s in the same clothes as last night. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” 

“Looks like it.” He’s not smiling, sober and more guarded than he was the night before. “Cute clothes.” 

He means it in a patronizing way, reverting back to his unpleasant demeanor. You don’t take it like that though, and everything in him is telling him to walk away when he sees pink dusting your cheeks. 

“Thanks Logan,” you’re beaming. “I’m running late so I should go, but I’ll see you around?” 

He doesn’t answer as you turn away and walk towards the gym. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It’s like that for weeks. You never have any substantial conversations, only running into each other for short moments where you give him twirls to show off your latest outfit or ask if he likes how you did your hair that day. Sometimes he snaps at you, says your braids look like a rats nest or your top is too bright. Other times he gives you small hums of appreciation, a quick “looks good”. You thrive for the validation, and he doesn’t notice that you’ve slowly stopped wearing the things that garner a sour reaction from him. 

He thinks you look pretty in everything, really, but he can’t stop himself from trying to put up a wall between you two, cutting off whatever ideas you have about being with him. He never goes too far, knows you take most of his insults as teasing, maybe even flirting. 

However, after a few weeks of your little back and forth he does take it too far. He’s a little too tipsy and a little too desperate, and when he knocks on your door, you answer a little too fast. You’re in a big tshirt and fuzzy socks, looking so fucking soft and innocent as you peer up at him. “Logan? Everything all right?” 

No, it wasn’t. He was drunk and angry about a lot of things, as usual. He desperately craved to not be angry, even if just for a second. He wanted something sweet and soft to bury himself into. That’s why he was here. He wasn’t dumb, even if you really didn’t know much about each other, he knew you had a crush. Knew you would say yes to whatever he asks. He feels bad that he’s here, but not enough to stop himself. 

“Logan?” His nostrils are flaring and he hasn’t moved an inch since you opened the door. You’re beginning to get nervous. Before you can process it, he’s crossed the space separating you in one large step and pulled you into him. You almost slam into his body, your hands landing on his chest. He weaves a hand into your hair on the back of your head and pulls, your mouth opening in shock. He uses it as an opportunity to lower his head to yours, looking into your eyes before smashing his lips to yours. 

It’s almost painful, the way he kisses you. But it’s also full of desperation and messy and neither of you can get enough. His tongue licks at your teeth and you surprise him by taking it in, sucking it gently. A low groan echoes in his chest, and you realize you’re throbbing already. He pulls away slightly, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip and slowly releasing. You open your eyes, getting a glimpse at his dark pupils before he promptly spins you around, one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip. He puts slight pressure on your shoulder, and you get the memo, slowly leaning forward until your front is flush with your mattress, your arms curled up on either side of you. 

The position is vulnerable, and you find yourself pressing your thighs together and squirming in nervousness. He hasn’t said a single word to you, and you’re already dripping, feeling almost uncomfortably moist in your panties. You meet his eyes, shivering when his hands start exploring the pudgy skin of your thighs. The eye contact is too much, and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You couldn’t believe you were here; you had fantasized about it plenty of times but now it was happening and it all felt so fast and yet not fast enough. The last thing you expected was him making the first move, you still weren’t convinced the man even like you. Yet here you were, bent over for him. 

  He pulls your shirt up and past your ass, an appreciative mumble falling from his lips when he discovers you’re only in panties. You can feel his callouses gently scrape your skin as he puts his hands on your ass, gently massaging. He takes his time, all other thoughts outside of fucking you slowly becoming silent. This is what he wanted, what he needed. A simple distraction. He spreads your cheeks lightly, and you clench around nothing when you feel a puff of air on your clothed folds. 

Logan’s cock is already half hard and twitching at the sight of you. Hell, he was chubbed the second he started kissing you. He chalks that up to his dry streak and not because it’s you he was kissing. Sweet little you, who’s ruined her panties, and he hasn’t even really acknowledged you. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears you whine and shift your hips closer to his face. “Please Logan. Want you.” You’re looking at him from the mattress, face flushed and lips puffy from his biting. You looked fucked out and all he’s done is kiss you. The thought spurs him on as moans lowly. He tears your panties from your hips, the sting of the fabric biting into skin almost too much in your needy state. They give easily, and his hands are back on your ass, spreading you open for him once again. This time he sees all of you, pretty folds glistening in the low light of your room and your clit uncomfortably swollen. 

It’s a sight Logan will remember for a long time. “Jesus love, all this for me huh?” 

Of course it was for him. You’d do anything he’d ask. Or didn’t ask, for christ sakes you were naked for him after the first kiss and no prior discussion. You didn’t care. Too lost in the high of what was to come. 

You give him a whimper, you were going to break if he didn’t give you some type of stimulation soon. “All for you Logan, always, please just touch me, fuck me, anything you want just- please- do something.” Your desperation paired with the arch in your back as you search for friction has him throwing all decorum out of the window. 

He licks from your clit to your dripping hole, nose dragging through the velvet wetness you’ve produced. He groans as he wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks for a few moments before returning to lapping at your folds. Your mind almost goes blank, tingles erupting throughout your body. One of your hands reach behind you blindly, trying to find some part of him to touch, keep you grounded. He notices and grabs your wrist, briefly pulling away from your sloppy cunt to grab your other wrist roughly, holding both in one hand as he continues eating you out like he’s starving. 

You whimper at the constrictions he’s put you under, fists opening and closing in time with your toes curling as he pushes you to your peak. Your hips start to move on their own accord, and he finds himself chasing your wetness with every jerk of your hips. He growls when you twitch away a tad too much. “Be a good girl and stay still.” 

You freeze immediately, and somehow even more blood rushes to your already puffy pussy. Good girl. You would be, you promised yourself. You’d be a good girl for him. 

He pats your ass at your obedience, fingers slowly finding a pace on your clit. You want to writhe around and give yourself more friction, but you don’t, you want Logan to see that you’re being good and listening. You feel two fingers drag through your folds and moan when he begins slowly pressing them into your warm walls. You can feel his knuckles catch and you let out a curse as his fingers curl and bump that special spot that makes you go cross-eyed. 

Logan is enraptured as he watches your hole flutter around his fingers, feeling a primal need to replace it with his cock. He curls his fingers over and over, watching your face as you whimper and moan into your sheets. His name falls from your lips, and he knows you're close. He pulls away then, your hips fall onto the bed, your knees wobbling. You’re about to protest until you see him reaching for his buckle, hastily pulling his belt from the loops then unzipping his fly. He shoves his pants down just enough to pull his cock out, hard and leaking. He gives himself a few pumps, squeezing at the base. You push yourself up, supporting yourself on your forearms as he puts one knee on the bed, leaning over you. 

You get a better view of him from here, tip a soft red and pretty veins swollen with need. You almost want to reach out and take over for him. He uses his free hand to grab your chin, pulling your face to look at him. “You ready for me princess?” 

You can only nod in response, teeth chewing on your lip nervously. His hand moves to wrap gently around your throat, hunching over to kiss you once more. Your neck strains as you try to kiss him impossibly deeper, craving the way he tasted. He’s the one who ends the kiss again, and you numbly wish you could just sit here and kiss him for hours. He pats your cheek smiling down at you. “Good girl.” 

He moves off the bed, grabbing your hips and manhandling you into an upright position again. You feel even more wetness leak from you at how effortless he can move you around. You gasp when his tip drags through your folds, head catching on your clit. He does this a few times while gathering your wrists into his hands once more, using his other to begin pressing his aching cock into your warm walls. The tip pops in, and you feel yourself clench, hard. He lets out a loud moan. 

“Fuck darlin, gonna strangle the damn thing.” You only moan in return and he smirks, using his hands that hold your wrists as leverage, pulling you back to sink onto his cock even further. 

You close your eyes at the stretch, the pain being just enough to blur into mind numbing pleasure and fullness. His hips are flush to yours now, and he presses himself into your ass even more, addicted to the feeling of being balls deep inside you. He pulls out slowly, before snapping his hips forward. Your whole body moves with the force, and he tightens the grip he has on your wrists. He sets an unrelenting pace, your moans almost drowned out by his grunts and occasional shouts of curses. 

You can feel every inch of him, adjusted to his size and clenching around him every time his balls slapped your clit. He releases your wrists in favor of grabbing your hips, slamming into them with a ferocity that you would feel in the morning. You’re far too turned on to care at the moment. 

“Fuck Logan, just like that, I’m close, please-” He silences you with a slap to your ass, mind going blank with need when he sees red blooming across the soft skin. You clench harder this time. He’s grunting with every hard thrust he makes. “C’mon good girl, give it to me.” 

That’s all it takes, your limbs go numb as your orgasm washes over you, euphoria blooming from your stomach and spreading to your fingertips. Logan roars as he finishes, hearing your name fall from his lips like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. He likes hearing your moans more than he would like to admit. 

His thrusts gradually slow, before coming to a stop, still twitching inside you as you go through the aftershocks. You catch your breath, panting and suddenly feeling very humid. He slips out of you carefully, almost tempted for round 2 when he catches a glimpse of his spend leaking from you. His head is starting to clear a little, and he realizes he’s put himself in an awkward position. 

You’re smiling up at him, pupils still blown and hair messy. He finds himself not knowing what to say to you. So, he doesn’t say anything, just pulls his pants up and goes to your bathroom, coming back out with a rag. He tosses it to you. You clean yourself up, also feeling slightly awkward. He’s sitting at the edge of your bed, watching you. 

“Do you wanna like, cuddle, maybe?” 

He gives you a look and you almost wish you hadn’t asked. He rolls his eyes and stands; you think he’s going to leave until he’s pulling back your duvet and jerking his head towards you. You comply immediately, feeling giddy. Logan knows he should leave. Not give you any more mixed signals than he already has. But the guilt is starting to wiggle back into his brain, and he can’t say no. 

He’s in jeans, and above the covers, but you’re comfortable regardless. Your head is on his chest, fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. You don’t say much to each other, but silently you’re happier than you have been in a long time. He came and seeked you out, fucked you good and hard, and now he’s (almost) cuddling you after. You’re over the moon. You fall asleep on his chest, satisfied and tired. 

He leaves almost immediately after your eyes close. You wake up the next morning feeling hollow. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan is afraid that night was like an invitation for more to you. The following weeks you’re stuck to him like glue, finding whatever room he’s in and sitting with him. “Accidentally” making too much dinner and forcing him to share a meal with you. You still ask him stupid questions, “do you like my nails?”, “look at my form, isn’t it better than last week?”, “do these shoes look dumb?”. 

It’s getting on his nerves. However, he does figure out the best way to get you to shut up is to get you on your knees with his cock down your throat.

Logan has shoved all guilt deep down, rationalizing his shitty behavior with the logic that you’re both using each other. It’s what he tells himself when he finds himself at your door multiple times a week half hard and in need of release. 

Then, once again, Logan takes it too far. He comes back from a mission with the X-men, already on edge after a disagreement with Scott. All he wants is to take off for a week with his motorcycle and drink so much his body will have to regenerate a whole new liver from scratch. He almost runs into you, too busy storming to his stash of whiskey to bother being aware of his surroundings. He instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling back, steadying you before letting go. 

“Logan! You’re back!” Your eager voice is too much for him right now. “I finally finished the book I stole from you, I really liked it! I was about to eat lunch if you want me to make you something and maybe we can talk-” 

“No.” Logan is glaring at you. 

“What?” 

“I said no kid. You’re up my ass 24/7, can’t even settle in after a mission without you finding me and being fucking annoying.” He’s snarling at you, face inches from yours and using his height to intimidate. It works, and you shrink into yourself.

“Logan I’m sorr-”

“Save it, your desperate little attempts at getting my approval are pathetic. Almost makes me feel sorry for you. Leave me the fuck out of it, I don’t want anything to do with you. You got that?” He doesn’t let you answer, pushing it out of his mind when he sees your eyes sparkle with tears. He continues stomping down the hall. 

You watch as he leaves, shocked tears making their way down your cheeks. You had no idea you had pushed things too far with Logan. Wasn’t he the one just a few short weeks ago pounding on your door and then pounding you without as much as a hello? You knew he would get irritated with you, make snippy comments and roll his eyes at you constantly. But without fail he’d always come back and make it up with a sweet smile the next day. This time was different. There was no teasing, no hint of affection hidden behind the insult. This time he was serious. 

He didn’t want you around. You feel the pressure of a panic attack coming on, putting a hand on your chest and pressing hard to try to hold it together. You knew this would happen. You put all your eggs into one basket and now you’re screwed. You didn’t mean to pin so much of your self worth onto Logan, but it was hard not to when a simple compliment from him had your confidence higher than it had ever been your entire life. Even the insults were addicting, deluding yourself into believing he wouldn’t tease you so much if part of him didn’t enjoy having you around. 

You feel stupid, and angry, angry that you once again put your trust into a man who didn’t care for it. Part of you wants to run after him, scream, cry, kiss him, anything to get him to see how he hurt you, get him to come back. You scoff at yourself. Fat chance. If he didn’t want you around, then you wouldn’t be around. 

Your panic has subsided for the moment, but you make your way to your room, feeling like a good cry in the comfort of your own space might help the pit in your stomach. Hours later, cried out and nursing a massive headache, you realize it didn’t help at all.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan hasn’t seen you in days. He tries not to think about it. He knows he snapped a little too hard, said some things he didn’t completely mean, but he figured you’d be over it now. That you’d stop pouting and find him, asking if he liked some stupid skirt or hair clip. He hates that he misses your little fashion shows. He caves, and eventually begrudgingly asks Scott if she’s seen you. 

“Y/n? Yeah I saw her a few hours ago getting food. Why? Finally figure out she’s avoiding you?” 

Logan bristles at that. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

Scott continues, pressing his luck. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what you said this time, but maybe next time you should be a man and let her down easy, or better yet, don’t lead her on in the first place. She’s hurt man, and that’s on you. Leave it alone for once.” 

Logan is dangerously close to starting a fight, claws inching out of his knuckles. Scott decided he’s made his point, and leaves without giving Logan a second glance. He has half a mind to follow the fucker, but he stays put. 

Scott thought that him saying something would be helpful, he didn’t know you all that well but from what Jean has told him, Logan has a way of leaving the worst kinds of marks on people. He figured if you wouldn’t stand up to Logan, maybe he could advocate on your behalf.

He doesn’t know that, if anything, Logan wants to deny the truth even harder now that Scott decided to act like he knew everything. He wants to believe the opposite of what Scott told him. You weren’t upset, you were just busy. He wasn’t leading you on, you knew what you were signing up for. What the fuck did Scott know? 

Leave it alone.

He should, he really should. For your sake. You might be overbearing and too excited at times, but you don’t deserve the way he treats you. He wishes he could do it, treat you right and be there for you. But he can’t, and there’s no use imagining it. There’s a mile-thick concrete wall around his perimeter, designed to keep him from experiencing the person he loves ripped away from him. He can’t go through that again. 

He wants to though; it makes him sick when he realizes. At some point between hours of animalistic sex and your soft smiles he had lost a little piece of himself to you.

 He goes into a blind rage, punching the wall behind him and slicing anything within arm's reach. He’s angry at himself for not walking away the first day he met you, for being drunk and stupid and making your first experience with him too pleasant. He could’ve ignored you, never even learned your name and kept it that way. But he didn’t. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he really was the one who started all of this.

Rather than take any responsibility or process his feelings, he finds himself marching to your room, footsteps heavy and rhythmic. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy again, doesn’t want to be angry at Scott or himself or the world. So, he’s back where he started, outside your door. 

You open it timidly, eyes dim and hair not put up like usual. You look depressed. You are depressed, not that you would tell him that. You feel numb as you stare up at him, having a good idea of why he was here. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into a hug. He lifts you slightly, walking you over to your bed and sitting down carefully, bringing you onto his lap. Your muscles are tense, he’s never hugged you before, it feels weirdly intimate. You can’t bring yourself to push him away. 

“M’sorry. M’so so sorry.” He whispers into your hair, smoothing the baby hairs sticking up with a gentle hand. You lose it when he kisses your forehead with more tenderness than you'd ever experienced. You’re softly crying, grasping onto his shirt and shoving your face into his chest. 

You don’t want to keep doing this over and over. You want to feel okay without Logan around, you don’t want to need him. Unfortunately, as he’s kissing his way down your neck and mumbling “Let me make it better, at least for a little while,” you don’t have it in you to break the cycle today.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Honey, I'm Home || For The Right Man

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Trad Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings:  dom!Joel, sub!reader, rich!reader, master/slave dynamics, name calling (slut, cunt, whore, fucktoy, bitch-- it can't get worse folks), use of honorifics for Joel (Sir, Daddy, Master-- a hattrick!) Joel keeps reader in check, domesticity kink, mention of exhibitionism, boot humping, boot worship, collar and leash, chastity belt, mention of anal, use of buttplug, objectification, dehumanization, crawling, facefucking, kicking, cockwarming. (I think I got everything but lmk if I missed stuff) Word count: 4.8k Summary: Joel comes home to freshly baked dessert and a good little wife eager to serve in every way possible A/N: Look, don't be a trad wife irl. It's nothing like this. It's dangerous and will tire you out in the worst way possible. Remember this kind of Joel Miller is tragically not real. Heed the warnings.

You swiped a finger on the inside of the glass bowl, free to lick up the leftover brownie batter now that it was baking in the oven. You looked over at the clock, disappointed to see that it hadn’t moved even a little since the last time you looked.

You were still getting used to it, being home all the time. Being a housewife wasn’t something you thought you’d ever do. You hit the ground running after graduation, climbing the corporate ladder and making more money than you knew what to do with. After reaching the top and buying everything you could ever dream of and more, life got quite boring. Nothing brought joy or satisfaction anymore. Many a therapist and mental breakdowns later, you decided that you were done. Unable to bear the boredom of your career, quit your job and moved to one of your properties in Texas. 

That was when Joel Miller walked into your life. Or rather you called him into your life after seeing his number on a pamphlet. Miller Constructions. Tall, gruff, muscular as hell and all southern gentlemanly, he had your attention from the very first day. Miller Constructions was only a local business that he ran with his little brother. But he had good reviews online and your own neighbor’s kitchen renovation was a testimony to Miller Construction’s quality work.

With no job or entertainment, you’d set your eyes on the handsome contractor. As he stripped his shirt, arm muscles bulging in his white vest, you sat on your couch with a book open and watched to your heart’s content. But if anyone asked you the names of the characters in the book, you would draw a blank.

One thing led to another and a few years later you were in the bedroom of the house he renovated for you, wearing his ring and getting ready in front of the dressing table he built you from scratch. You stood bare in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but the steel collar with his name engraved and matching chastity belt he kept you locked in when he was away. It was a reminder of the kind of life you’d built together, of the role you’d readily accepted in your home.

You went through your extensive lingerie collection, all chosen to surprise him and make you feel beautiful. You took a sip from your glass of wine and set it down carefully on the dressing table before reaching for something you hadn’t worn in a little while. A bright red set that drove him fucking insane when you first wore it. It was from last year’s Valentine’s Day and you’d taken him to a restaurant, private booking with just you and Joel dining there for the night. It was expensive as hell but you had cash to throw away and it was worth it for his reaction. 

Once dinner had been served and the waitstaff left, you took your coat off to reveal that you’d been practically naked underneath. The lingerie set was a corset top, strapless with your tits almost falling out and the back open in a heart shape. The corset boning was covered in bright red silk, standing out against the soft sheer lace around it. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks when memories of the night flooded your mind. It hadn’t taken him long to forget the fancy food, bend you over the table and have his fill of your cunt. When he got close, he put you on your knees and came on your face, marking you as his. For the rest of dinner, you wore him on your face, eating all the courses of the meal and talking to him casually about everything under the sun like it was normal. 

A second wear of the lingerie set could only lead to another amazing night of debauchery. You grabbed the matching lace panties and slipped it on over your belt, the pair a skimpy one with too little fabric to cover up the essentials. You put the corset on next, struggling just a little to lace it up all by yourself but managing nevertheless. A pair of sheer black stockings, red lips, red bottomed Louboutins and your look was complete. 

He didn’t care much about makeup. The man couldn’t even tell you were wearing seven different products on your face the first few times. But he always noticed a red lip. Always liked having the visual of bright painted lips stretch around his impressive girth. 

Your stilettos clicked against the hardwood floor as you turned in front of the mirror, checking your appearance from every angle to make sure you looked your best. You could greet him in your old university tee and a pair of shorts with your hair up in a bun and he’d still gather you in his arms and kiss you senseless when he came home. 

But you liked going the extra mile for him every now and then. Be something soft, pretty and pliant to come home to after long days of hard labor under the sun and idiot subcontractors who got on his nerves.

Just as you’d sliced the brownies and left them on a wire rack to cool, you heard his truck pull up into the driveway. You sprinted to the door as fast as you could in your impractical shoes and took your position at the door. A wide smile plastered on your lips and your thighs rubbing against each other in a pavlovian response to his arrival. 

Joel’s eyes brightened when you opened the door and he laid his eyes on you. “Goddamn, honey… Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” he said, wasting no time in wrapping a muscular arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss. You relaxed in his embrace, moaning softly when he caressed your bottom in his large hand. He threaded his fingers through your hair, keeping you flush against his chest as he tasted you. You heard him kick the door close, chills running through you as you realized you’d been on display to the entire neighborhood all this while. 

You were the first to pull away, breathless from his kiss. Yet you stayed close, his nose brushing against yours and his warm breath kissing your cheek. You sighed, taking in his heady scent of sweat, his cologne, and wood shavings. The thing that screamed Man, Man, Man. The thing that had you begging to suck his cock every evening when he was only your contractor.

He hung his truck keys on the hook by the door and picked up the leather leash that hung from the hook right next to it. He hooked the metal end of it to the ring on your collar and tugged you forward, making you giggle as you crashed into his chest. 

You unbuttoned the first button of his flannel and licked your lips when you saw his chest, tan and marked by little brown spots from the treacherous sun that couldn’t help but kiss him. You staked your claim with a kiss on his chest and licked your lips, the salty taste of his skin enticing you even more. No matter how many times you had him, you felt the same excitement that you did the first time you submitted to him. That Friday night when he stayed longer than usual to finish retiling your bathroom so it’d be ready for the party you were throwing the week after.

“I missed you so much, baby,” you confessed, looking up at him from his chest. He was handsome as hell with his soft curls, beautiful brown eyes, kissable lips, and patchy beard. Before him, you had a preference for men with full beards. But you liked Joel’s better now. Especially the little heart shaped patch where hair refused to grow. 

“Missed you too, darlin’. Get on your knees now,” he said, tugging you down by your leash. You sunk down to your knees and looked up at him, heart swelling with joy at the view you had of him. He was handsome from every angle, but fuck he looked powerful towering over you like a God. 

“House smells real good. You bake for me again?” He asked, petting your head just as gently as the tone of his voice.

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you wrapped your arms around his leg and pressed your cheek to his knee. It was all the satisfaction you never got at the job you quit. 

“Sweet little wife, working so hard for me huh?” 

“Mhmm. Heated up the leftovers from last night but I wanted to make something new too. Knew you’d need something nice to come home to, Daddy.” He never demanded anything of you despite the absolute power you handed him. He ate what you gave, whether it was good or not, whether you cooked or ordered take out. It only deepened your need to serve him. 

As you already had leftovers for dinner, you decided to bake instead. A good thing that came out of the expensive baking classes you took. You liked sending the remaining dessert with him to work where he proudly distributed them. 

He’d never tell you, but you knew he got off on it. His staff knew you, the boss’ sweet wife who cooked the most delicious things. You played it up when they were around— when they came by for signatures, when you visited his worksites with his lunch. You giggled more for him, touched his arms and smiled adoringly. You dressed provocatively- low cut tops that showed your cleavage, tight jeans that hugged your ass, skirts that were too short ro bend in. 

“Come home to you everyday, don’t I? My everythin’ nice.” 

“Shut up,” you muttered, a shy smile fighting to surface despite your best efforts. 

“That how you speak to your husband?” He asked, leading you to the dinner table you’d arranged with plates, cutlery, artfully folded napkins, and the flowers from him. You crawled beside him, enjoying the discomfort in your permanently bruised knees. He took a seat and you knelt next to him, pussy already slick as he tethered the leash to the table he made to accommodate it. 

“I don’t know, Joel. Maybe you should do something about it if you don’t like it. Can’t just leave your wife at home and expect nothing to change. You need to maintain her.” 

“Maintenance, huh?” He snorted, tugging you close by your collar and kissing you. He held you in place with a firm hand right underneath your collar, his grip on your throat reinforcing his ownership over you. 

“Turn around, let me see what’s mine,” he said, patting your cheek twice. You obeyed, turning around on your knees and bending over to have your face down and ass up. 

He pushed your panties aside and you rolled your ass in the air so the jewel lodged in your hole glinted bright. He gripped it, coaxing it out gently before pushing it right back in. You whimpered, pressing your cheek to the floor and looking back at him as he played with you. He thrust the plug in and out, his devilish eyes giving away just how much he enjoyed debauching you. He liked the contradictions in you. The good little wife who stayed home and cooked and cleaned. But also his filthy little whore that stretched her ass to take his cock. 

“Kept it in all day, baby?” he asked, pressing on the plug.

“Yeah, Daddy…” you said, looking away at the grains on the wood flooring as you smiled. 

“Good girl,” he said, patting your ass once again before letting your panties snap back in place. Your smile widened, proud that you’d done a good job.

You’d never taken a man in your ass. Not that none had asked before Joel. Some even tried to force themselves in, pretending it was accidental when you yelled at them. The thought of a cock there, where it wasn’t meant to be, where it would be at least a bit painful… It scared you. Your boyfriends and one night stands had no incentive to be good to you. But it was different with Joel. He was your Master and you trusted he wouldn’t do anything to damage his property. 

You were his in every way but you needed him to take more. To have a part of your body that wasn’t meant for fucking trained to take his cock… For every inch of your body to be transformed into a plaything for him. It was the utter, complete submission you craved. 

“So proud of you,” he said, turning you around to face him. He bent down, staying close so you could feel his warm breath as he spoke to you. He kissed behind your ear where he knew you to be sensitive, making you shudder in response. 

“Need to stretch it out good so when I take your ass one day, I won’t split ya’ open.” 

You whimpered, cunt clenching as his words morphed into images in your mind’s eye. 

He served himself dinner, heaping enough on his plate for the both of you. The gentleman that he was, he fed you first. You were his bitch at his feet, being fed and pet, but you were still a typical husband and wife sharing stories of each other’s day. 

You asked him about his day and he vented about some idiot using the wrong setting and overheating a drill bit so much it snapped. He asked about your book club and complimented the meal even though he’d already praised you for it last night.

He rinsed the dishes and set them in the racks to dry while you went upstairs to fetch his fresh boots. The nice soft ones he never wore outside and sanitized thoroughly after each use. You placed them by the coffee table, your eyes connecting with his as you did. He smiled and returned to the dishes, a knowing look in his eyes. 

You headed to the mini bar to prepare drinks. Joel’s drink never needed preparation- just a whiskey, neat. But you liked something fun every night courtesy of your newfound interest in mixology. 

⌘⌘⌘

Joel reached into his shirt and pulled out his chain. It was one of your first presents to him. It was gold and had him stuttering his words when he got it. 

He was not used to having a rich girlfriend. He’d always dated within his economic group. No surprise since not a lot of rich women liked contractors without a higher education. And as a traditional southern man, he liked to be the one to buy gifts for his woman. Liked to provide, to take care of his people. It took time to adjust to having a woman who liked just as much to buy him stuff and take care of him with meals and massages. One who took spontaneous trips to his worksites just to give him a bottle of homemade lemonade when he most needed it. 

Care was a one way street for him. But with you, he learned to accept some care for himself. It began with you cooking meals for him when he renovated your home. It wasn’t the most delicious. You had no experience cooking back then, but he was completely taken by the care you showed him. Just a man she hired. You had too many rooms in your fancy mansion to do shit like that. 

Quickly it had become routine. You spoke to each other about your lives. He told you about starting work straight outta high school after his parents’ death and he learned why you’d moved to Austin. The more days he spent renovating your house the less it felt like work. Especially since that one night you got on your knees and let him know that you would be happy to relieve his stress.

Ladies usually played it coy, or at least that was his experience. But you were unabashed. Bold. You didn’t drop hints and play games. You dropped to you fucking knees and offered him your mouth to fuck. It surprised him how attracted he was to your assertiveness. 

Like the other things he accepted from you, he accepted the gold. You liked how it dangled from his neck as he plowed into you. He liked that it was a counterpart to the collar he put around your neck. 

It now held the key to your chastity belt. He pulled your panties off, plucked the key from his chain and unlocked you. Most mornings, he locked you into your belt before kissing you goodbye at the door. In the evenings, he opened you like the best fucking Christmas present. 

He wasn’t too strict with it, finding integrity and trust a more powerful tool than fear. You knew there was a spare set of keys to the belt and collar in a drawer if you needed them. You trusted him enough to lock and collar you without disrespecting you and he trusted you to not remove it without good reason. He trusted you to not lie and you trusted that he would handle your actions with kindness.

He slipped the heavy steel belt off and placed it by his side on the rug. Knelt behind you, he bent down and kissed your pussy lips, already wet and needy though he hadn’t done anything but wiggle your plug a little. He made out with it just as he would your painted pair of lips, his tongue parting your folds to enter you, tasting your arousal. 

“Remindin’ me why I call ya honey…” he whispered into your sensitive skin, making you tremble against his lips. 

“Why you gotta bake me sweet treats when you got me my favorite between your legs?” He asked, wrapping his lips around your nub before you could answer him with snark. You buried your head in a couch cushion, muffling your sounds. But in the quiet of the living room, Joel could hear the pretty little whimpers you made for him. 

He groaned, his neck hurting from the awkwardness of the angle. He got back up from under you and slapped your ass thrice in quick succession. “Up. Put your panties on and change my boots.” 

He sat back comfortably on the couch and enjoyed the view of you as you got to work. 

Work boots off, you laced up the house boots and dropped your face to the ground, your ass pushing up. You pressed your lips to one boot and then the next. Then you licked it from the tip up, looking up at him for approval as you traveled up. He looked nothing less than absolutely pleased, his fingertips brushing his jawline and his smile soft at the sight of your devotion. 

He tipped your chin up with his boot and caressed your cheek with it. “My little slut loves my boots, huh?” 

You nodded and nuzzled into it, grateful for his attention. The warmth of his smile morphed into arrogance. From your loving husband to the man who knew he controlled your every breath and was ready to take advantage of it. 

“On your ass, slut. Spread those legs and show me your cunt.” 

You sat back, the coffee table supporting you as you spread your legs wide. When you moved the wet gusset of your panties aside, his eyes zeroed in and he tongue swept over his lips. You felt your cunt drip into the carpet, the shame of being so aroused by worshiping his boots only making the situation worse. 

He slid his boot between your legs and pressed it against your hole. “Tell me. Why do I need to keep you locked?” 

“Because I’m a slut,” you admitted, beginning to rub against it. You knew you were a lot to handle. You lived a life of restrain and shame before you found Joel. Joel freed you to chase your desires and allowed you to devolve into a slut. Since then you thought of nothing but filling your holes. He had you addicted to his cock and whining for it like a wild animal. If you didn’t have Joel to take full command of your body, you knew you would do nothing but rub your cunt raw.

“Yeah that’s right,” he said, leaning close. “But you are my slut. I know you won’t go around letting other men use your holes. So why do I keep you locked?” 

“B-because I’m so wet I can’t think, Daddy.” 

“Mhmm. That’s right. Now why does Daddy need you thinking?” He said, cupping your cheek in his callused hands. 

“C-cause I need to keep the home. I need to cook and clean.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t need your brain working to do that, baby. What d’ya need to think for?” 

“My projects. I need to think for my projects.” 

“Exactly. Good girl. You need to finish the portrait for your art class next week, don’tcha?” 

You simply nodded, happy that he kept track of your tasks. Sometimes you forgot. You got lazy and procrastinated, turned your hobbies into a source of stress. But Master guided you and held you accountable. 

“And you love your furniture so much. Your Persian rug, your designer sofas, the hardwood floor I laid down. What’ll happen if I don’t keep this hole locked?” He asked, tipping his chin up. 

Your mind began its descent into the void of lust as the sensations between your legs eclipsed all else. Yet you managed a response. “I’ll r-ruin it.”

“Mhmm. Can’t have you ruining our home. I know how much care you put into it,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How well you take care of it everyday,” he said with a kiss on your cheek. “It’ll all be ruined if you leave a trail of slick behind you when you’re on your knees cleaning the front.” 

You nodded frantically, words slipping beyond your abilities. 

“Now tell me why I need separate house boots.” 

You opened and closed your mouth, but nothing got to you past the cruelty of his boot and your slick panties on your clit. His had slipped from your face down to grab your neck and you gasped. 

“Answer me, girl. Why do I need these boots?”

“B-because of me.” 

“Mmm. Why?”

“Bec-because I’m a shameless bitch,” you croaked out as his hand constricted around you. “I need to fuck m’self on Master’s boots,” 

“That’s right,” he said, allowing you some air. “I can’t go out with my work boots smelling like pussy. Can’t let my men take a whiff of my slut now, can I?” he taunted, giving a light kick to your pussy. You gasped, the kick electrifying your every nerve. 

“You want more?” He asked, head tilted and a mocking smile playing at his plush lips. 

You nodded frantically, your cunt thrusting into the air as you sputtered, “Yes Sir, yes please.” 

“Shameless whore, asking to be kicked in the cunt,” he snorted before he kicked you again. You shrieked and closed your legs shut, pain and pleasure alike traveling from your core to every part of your body. When your brain recovered from the shock, you opened your legs again. 

You reached between your legs and rubbed yourself, intending to soothe but distracted by the waves of pleasure from the contact. 

“Fucking slut,” he said, slapping your hand away and replacing it with his own. He alternated between slaps and rubs of your cunt. The sting of pain morphed into jolts of pleasure until the two became so indistinguishable from the other that you didn’t know what you were craving. You took what he gave, your body grateful to accept anything that came of his touch. 

The hand on your neck squeezed and let go at unpredictable intervals. Every constriction of airflow was a reminder that you were just a toy at his whim. He decided if you came, he decided which hole he’d use, he decided if you’d take your next breath. 

“Look how you’re dripping all over my hand,” he said, his hand glistening with your shame as he brought it up to you. He smeared it over your face, a sob escaping your throat as you smelled your desperation. 

You inched closer to him on your knees and rested your cunt at the tip of his boot and humped. Up, down, up, down. There was no bliss like it. 

“Like a fucking bitch in heat,” he muttered, laughing to himself when you whined. “Imagine if your former subordinates could see ya now. Wouldn’t even recognize their ballbusting boss. Maybe we should have ‘em over.” 

You shook your head in denial, but your cunt was more truthful, clenching harder at the thought of having an audience to your subjugation. 

“No?” He mocked as he worked on your corset top. The hairs on your body stood up as the air cooled your sweating torso. Your breasts bounced free, jiggling as you fucked yourself on his boot. 

He took one in his hand, fondling it before letting go with a slap. You yelped, inching closer and trapping the bootlaces under you. He took turns with them, squeezing, slapping and pinching. 

“Please!” You cried, not comprehending why you were begging. 

“I know, baby. I know…” he said, the softness of his voice contradicting the cruelty of his fingers that tugged at your nipples. 

“Need t— Hnngg!” 

“I got you. Give into it, Cunt. Just be the fuckhole you were made to be.” 

A wild sound escaped your lips and you fell back. He caught you, holding you up against the coffee table. 

Your cunt still rutted, autonomous and in control of you. Just a cunt, just Master’s fuckhole. With that reassurance, the world disappeared and you found euphoria that you could never experience without him. 

All the tension in your muscles evaporated to join the anxieties he fucked out of you, leaving behind you a carefree fucktoy. 

Brains all fucked out, you could do nothing but comply as he rearranged you on your knees. Light illuminated his face and sounds of a cheering crowd and a fast talking man echoed in your empty head. 

He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth to open. A cold glass pressed against your lips and you lapped up the drink, grateful for something to quench your thirst. He pinched your nose, laughing as your hole gasped wide open for air. 

He lined his cock up with your hole and thrust in, your lips stretching tight to accommodate him. He allowed you air once again and you moaned around him, grateful for his benevolence. Though your hole was accustomed to him, the walls trembled. But you persevered, needing to show Master you were grateful for letting you breathe. You took him inch by inch, stopping only when your head was on his lap and your nose pressed against his balls. 

You breathed in his scent, masculine and overpowering. Tongue darted out every now and then to lick his balls. Cunt pulsated in the joy of submission when he moaned and whimpered. Every now and then he fucked your face up and down his cock and gave you air but mostly let you be.

Time had passed but you didn’t know how much. No world existed beyond him, no purpose other than warming his cock in your hole. Eventually, he stood up and held your head in both hands, thrusting in and out with no regard for you. Pathetic sounds escaped your burning throat and your lips lost its bright red color as your lipstick ran with your drool. Mascara and eyeliner ran down the sides of your face with your tears, turning gray when he released his spend on your face.

Face covered in his release, you crumbled at his feet, your arms going around his legs. You couldn’t bear to be alone in this state. His hand came down, caressing your sweat soaked hair as he whispered comforts.

“Did so well for me, Darling. So fucking perfect…”

“I love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through foggy vision. 

“I love you. More than I can show. Let me take care of you now. Bath and then bed, alright?”

You nodded, cheek pressed against his knee and loath to let go of his legs. He didn’t hurry you,but allowed you stay where you were until you decided to get up. There were chores to be done, you were sure but you knew he would take care of it. It was a worry you no longer had. All that mattered was that you served him well. No stock prices and market conditions. No early mornings and hours stuck in traffic jams. 

Nothing to do but please Master, nothing to be but holes and tits. You were free. 

⌘

Masterlist

[luveline]

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside. 

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?” 

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light. 

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat. 

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside. 

It’s good to be home. 

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated. 

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone. 

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive. 

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways. 

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves. 

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate. 

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away. 

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast. 

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently. 

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in. 

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness. 

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side. 

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.” 

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything. 

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…”  Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?” 

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.” 

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.” 

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?” 

“She won’t let me eat.” 

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.” 

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?” 

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.” 

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for. 

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you. 

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.” 

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.” 

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks. 

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?” 

“Avery’s always nice.” 

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.” 

Steve shrugs. “Doesn���t sound like something I’d do.” 

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.” 

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.” 

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away. 

“You comfortable enough?” he asks. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” 

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.” 

“But you had fun, right?” 

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.” 

“Exhausted?” you ask. 

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.” 

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.” 

“You did not.” 

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy). 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.” 

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek. 

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.” 

“Love you, Steve.” 

“Love you, too.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME

FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)

Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.

To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.

But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up. 

He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.

You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.

You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.

So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.

It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.

The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake. 

“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..

“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”

“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.” 

Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?” 

His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.

Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up. 

“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.

Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”

“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”

Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.

“I have not.”

He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie. 

“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”

“No, I didn’t.” 

Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back. 

But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to. 

“You just did it again.”

“I did not.”

“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”

Dazai looks mortified.

“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”

A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.

You almost feel bad.

Almost.

“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”

“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”

“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”

Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.

Dazai does not budge.

At all. 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

Did he fall asleep?

You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.

“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”

You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.

“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.

Has he really not slept since he left?

“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”

“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”

You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.

“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.

You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.

As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.

“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”

Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.

“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”

“No.”

The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“No?” 

“No.”

“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.

“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.

“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”

“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No.”

“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”

“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”

Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.

At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.

“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.

You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.

“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”

“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”

“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him. 

You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.

“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”

“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.

“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”

When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…

Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.

Fuck.

You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.

(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)

Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:

Something came up. Meet later.

And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it. 

You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.

(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)