#all this devotion and no one to lay it on. feels like my hearts gonna explode sometimes like i need to get it out
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barnesonly · 6 hours ago
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„all because of the wedding band on your left hand […] jealously. lust. desire. possession, even though he knew you weren't his to hold a claim on.” OH I JUST KNOW IT’S GONNA BE GOOD.
„you were something special to him. in a world where he was surrounded by nothing but blood, weapons, and death, you stood out.” That’s it. He’s got my heart already. Fuck the marriage.
Omg the setup of this is so absorbing and the vocabulary?? holy!!
„chose to ignore the fact that he was what he was. who he was.” Oh my god I can totally understand him UGHH the way someone finally treats him like a person and not a weapon… throwing up.
„you trusted he would never lay a finger on you. he didn’t. he wouldn’t.” FUCKKKK that’s IT for me!!
he wouldn’t do it if you were his target fuckkkkk need me some man who’s this loyal because—
„your life was in his hands, and he loved it.” THAT’S POSSESSION AND DEVOTION AT ONCE AND I’M SO HERE FOR IT
„your dirty little secret.” oh. my.!!! okay the way she keeps it to herself—… this is fire. AND SHE KNOWSSSS she sees the way soldier looks at her, fuck!!!
„now he had the image of you in his head, naked, with another man.” OH HE JEALOUSSSS—I just know their smut part is about to be wild.
„he wants to destroy it. he wants to grab you, take you, and fuck you through his bed” please do??? i hope it happens, please 💔
"I always come back," oh fuck me already
„consider it your anniversary gift to me." Wanna punch him in the face i’d leave the restaurant if i was her honestly.
„when's the last time he looked at you the way the soldier does every day?” OHHHHH YESSS THE REALIZATION. Thank you for coming to ur senses!!
„he wouldn't treat you like this.” OFC HE WOULDN’T!!! HE’D KILL FOR YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND CAN’T EVEN TREAT YOU RIGHTTT
imagining soldier oh yessssssss yes yes yes!!
„the man you're thinking of now could never be so insecure, so fucking pathetic” GIGGLINGGGGGG
„there's a man out there who would kill for you if you asked him to.” THAT’S WHAT I SAIDDDDDD
„would he be quiet when he fucks you, the way he normally is? or would he let himself go, let you know how much he enjoys feeling you?” OH GODDDDDDDD im squeezing my thighs on instinct!!
„You’ve done nothing wrong, right?” ABSOLUTELY NOT GIRL I SUPPORT YOUR RIGHTS AND WRONGS TOO!!
„maybe his dick is still hard from having watched the life drain from the man he was just sent to kill.” OH MY FUCKING GODDDD WE TALKED ABOUT I SAID WRITE THAT DOWN!!!! THIS FEELS LIKE THEY’RE BREAKING THE 4TH WALL HELP.
ITS HAPPENING. STAY CALM. STAY CALM.
taking off the mask oh godddddd… It’s so hot and vulnerable at the same time Im gonna pass out
HE BITES HER AND THEN LICKS IT FUCK FUCK FUCK!!! i’m such a whore for inflicting pain just too sooth it with tongue right after god i’m such a mess.
THE RING IS OFF!!!!!!! WE CELEBRATE!!!!
"you own me." i love when people come to their senses.
"you belong to me." I—again—read this as that one The Weekend line in House of Balloons/Glass Table…
WAIT ACTUALLY THAT SONG FITS SO MUCH I’m gonna think about this now „this is a happy house, we’re happy here.” NO actually tf we’re not!!
okay fuck, this is hot the way he— … the throat fucking and stuff 😣
"you're perfect." HER HUSBAND COULD NEVAAAA
„did your husband tell you how good you were?” That’s what I said…!!!!
"gonna fuck you 'til you don't know where you're at," THE WAY MY EYES WIDENED UP AND THE SMIRK ON MY FACE GREW 😭😭
his metal hand on her mouth holy fuck im so weak i told ya this part is gonna be good.
„this, you? all mine." whatever you say pretty boy
„he doesn't seem to care, grunting and wincing” LOVE ME SOME VOCAL WINTER SOLDIER FUCK YES
„I'll take care of him." I GASPED!!!
„let me take care of the motherfucker who kept me from you for so long." I GASPED EVEN LOUDER!!!!!!!!’
"do it." FUCK!!!!!!’nbnqnqnwududiwhsdu
okay so i need to say that I fucking love and adore this concept — a „good” wife who’s a nurse/doctor so basically she helps people yet she’s yearning a man who is a literal serial killer and questions her marriage just because of the way he tends to look at her—it just speaks to me. The contrast is so sharp between them and I love it. How she prefers this—something fragile that can disappear any moment when he dies on a mission—over the comfort of her own relationship, definitely more stable and… normal.
I don’t know If you plan on writing another part one day but I’d be so down to read it.
dirty little secret - nsfw winter soldier
word count: 6.6k based on this ask. disclaimer: offensive depictions/language regarding mental health. graphic depictions of violence and murder. cheating. *please note: the winter soldier willingly works for hydra and therefore bucky barnes does NOT exist in this universe. NOT associated with my pre-existing winter soldier series.
~~~
it's not like you didn't know, what with the way he looked at you.
the way he'd stare whenever your skin was exposed. a sliver of your ankle, the skin of your neck, your cleavage when you'd bend over... it didn't matter.
he would stare all the same, like you were a prized possession that he wanted but he knew he couldn't have.
all because of the wedding band on your left hand.
so he watched you, and didn't bother to look away whenever you caught his gaze in the act of him staring.
but he didn't dare touch you. that would be crossing a line.
he didn't need to touch you for you to know exactly what was going through his head.
jealously. lust. desire. possession, even though he knew you weren't his to hold a claim on.
~~~
you were something special to him.
in a world where he was surrounded by nothing but blood, weapons, and death, you stood out.
where he tore people limb from limb, disemboweled them, murdered them, you did the opposite. you stitched them back together, healed them.
you healed him.
that was the job you were hired to do, anyways. clock in, take his vitals. check his injuries. ensure he was in pristine condition to do the job that he was hired to do.
your inherent desire to nurture people, all those years of medical education you went through, all of it just to dedicate your life to tending to a man whose life was dedicated to violently executing people.
something about that thought appealed to him.
on the surface, you seemed to be a normal person. just any other doctor, any other woman. pleasant to be around, pleasant to socialize with. casual conversations with the other employees of the organization, smiles flashed at your coworkers when they walked by.
he rarely spoke to you, though. that would defeat the challenge.
defeat the challenge of trying to read you, trying to understand why you chose this job with all the work you'd done to get to where you are in life.
though he tried, he never could understand what about you drew you to this job. he knew that somewhere, deep down, you had to be as sick and twisted as the rest of them in order to work here.
to be willing to be the one who looked after him. the only one allowed to touch him. the only one who spent so much time with him excluding his superiors. the only one willing, nay, actively choosing to be alone in a room with a heartless, brutal assassin.
~~~
in the year you'd worked with him, he didn't speak to you unless he determined it was warranted. at first, you didn't know what to make of it.
when you were offered the job, you knew what you were getting yourself into. you knew the goal of the organization. you knew that you would be working with the most valuable asset among them.
you'd been forewarned, contingent on signing an NDA at interview, that he was deranged. off the rails. a psychopath.
but rest assured, he wouldn't hurt you. despite how they characterized him, you were assured that he was the most self-disciplined and self-controlled person you'd ever meet. he didn't do anything unless it was in the job description, unless it was a direct order.
it was an interesting dichotomy.
it intrigued you, the way he capitalized on his dark desires, monetized his insanity.
no way in hell could you say no to the job when it was offered to you.
so although you didn't know how to interact with him in the beginning, you were never afraid of him. even though his eyes trailed you from the second you entered the room until the moment you left. even when you caught glimpses of him covered from head to toe in blood, guts, and brains. even though you knew he was physically enhanced, had a specially-designed weapon attached to his shoulder disguised as an arm. even though he never said a word unless he deemed it absolutely necessary.
despite all of it, you weren't afraid.
so you continued to show up for work, and you continued to speak to him.
you knew he was listening. he didn't respond to your stories, didn't laugh at your jokes, didn't smile when you greeted him.
but those crisp blue eyes never left your face, never left your form.
after a while, you discovered that was his weakness. you learned to read his emotions through the look in his eyes. the way his eyes would widen ever so slightly when you got to the good part of a story.
the way his eyes would narrow when you mentioned your husband.
his gaze gave it all away.
~~~
that exact gaze gave way to his prized possession: you.
because that's all he could do. observe you.
you chose him, day in and day out, knowing what he did. you chose to speak to him like any other person, chose to ignore the fact that he was what he was. who he was.
you chose him.
you trusted he would never lay a finger on you.
he didn't.
he wouldn't.
about a month after you began work, the tides in his mind shifted. what once was a dedicated loyalty to his craft shifted to you. you became more important.
he realized he would never hurt you in any case. if a day ever came when he was told that you were his next target, he wouldn't do it.
he'd never failed a mission, not once. every target was successfully eliminated at his hands, which is why they never tried to replace him, never tried to seek out other willing talent. he was priceless, paid more than even the superiors who directed him, all because he was the best of the best. even they bowed down to him.
you, though.
forget the money, forget the protection and opportunity they offered him. he would turn on them in a heartbeat if it came to you.
he'd kill anyone who tried to come near you.
your life was in his hands, and he loved it.
he loved knowing that you knew that he could kill you without breaking a sweat, and yet, you continued to show up. he loved that everyone in this organization feared him so much that they would never even try to come near you. he loved that he was the one who dictated whether you made it through each day.
he loved that he owned you. that even though you didn't report to him, that he wasn't even in your direct chain of command, you still served him.
he controlled the breath that flowed in and out of your lungs. he controlled the blood that raced through your veins. he controlled everything.
all those thoughts, all that darkness within him, it all stayed within the confines of his mind. not a word of it was spoken into reality.
real power is best left unsaid.
but his desperate reassurances to himself that he controlled you were nothing more than an attempt at consoling himself.
he told himself he controlled your breath because he couldn't control what he actually wanted.
your pleasure. your happiness.
that's what he wanted to command.
if only for that stupid wedding band on your finger.
~~~
you knew he hated it. you knew that he didn't want to fucking hear about your marriage, about your personal life that didn't involve him. you knew from pretty early on that he wanted to be the only one allowed to look at you. that look told you he was constantly undressing you in his mind.
it's not like he ever explicitly told you to quit talking about your husband. it's not like he would even be allowed to; it wasn't his place. you were colleagues.
your husband, however, never heard about him. perhaps that was a deliberate decision on your part to protect him from knowing too much, protect him from the danger that came with being associated with such an organization.
perhaps it was because you didn't want your husband to know about him. perhaps you wanted to keep him to yourself, your dirty little secret.
perhaps you didn't want to protect your husband at all, but yourself.
you liked the attention the soldier gave you. you reveled in the way he looked at you, the way you felt like something to be desired. you enjoyed the way his eyes grew dark, even angry when you spoke about your marriage.
but that's all it was: a personal comfort to make yourself feel better.
even if it was at the emotional expense of both your colleague and your husband.
~~~
"I have to tell you, I'm leaving early today," you spoke to him, rambling on as you usually did to fill the silence. "it's my anniversary. my husband is taking me out for dinner tonight."
you glanced up at him as you said it, wrapping the cuff of the blood pressure monitor around his bicep. he glared at you as though pissed off at the discovery, yet as usual, he didn't say anything. he didn't tell you to quit talking. he didn't make any snarky comments.
but he heard you.
and he was pissed. now he had the image of you in his head, naked, with another man.
another man getting to touch you, getting to strip your clothes from your soft, delicate skin. a man that's not him getting to watch your face as you fall apart, overtaken by pleasure.
he hated the thought. he didn't want to know that another man was going to parade you around on his arm in some fancy restaurant only to take you home and touch you like he owned you.
worse yet?
it's not just the idea of another man acting like he owns you that pisses him off.
it's the fact that this other man does own you. he's your husband. you've committed yourself to him.
as he looks down at you squeezing the bulb of the monitor over and over again, he notices the way your ring catches the light with each release of your grip. that damn band pledging you to someone else.
he wants to destroy it. he wants to grab you, take you, and fuck you through his bed, ring shattered into a million pieces.
he looks back up to your face.
you don't look particularly excited about the words you're saying. you don't look like you're even happy that it's your anniversary.
you look entirely neutral, which is entirely uncharacteristic of you.
you've never spoken ill of your husband, and you've never seemed unhappy before.
this, though?
perhaps this is telling.
he watches as you continue to take his vitals and check up on a stab wound he sustained to his torso a few days previous. it doesn't bother him. pain doesn't faze him. the feeling of bleeding out is almost enjoyable, if you ask him.
he likes that you always fret over his injuries. he loves how concerned you look when you discover that he's been hurt. he enjoys how you work so diligently to take care of him, to clean him up, to do everything in your power to make him better.
he definitely won't tell you that he lets his opponents stab or shoot him once or twice just so that he gets to feel your warm hands on his skin, to see your complexion against his. to have you closer to him, to have you worry about him.
do you worry about him when he's on a job?
easy. of course you do.
you keep on talking, clearly as a means of convincing yourself that you're excited, that you're looking forward to dinner.
you're not a good liar.
at least to him, you're not.
"you need to be careful," you tell him as you re-bandage his injury. "one of these days, they'll get you real good and you won't come back to me."
your tone of voice is casual, teasing. but just as before, it's a cover-up, a deflection from how you really feel.
he's getting sick of that.
"I always come back," he speaks, gruff, voice hoarse from lack of use.
he would like to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, to remind you that nothing can possibly touch him. except, of course, he's kind of blown that cover by letting himself get injured.
he's long debated if his pride and his ego are more important than getting what he wants.
not when it comes to you.
"yes, of course, but I'd hate to see you come back in a body bag," you laugh.
real amusing.
you offer him some painkillers, to which he denies. you offer him a lot of things, a lot of comforts that he never accepts.
nothing would be as satisfying as you offering him yourself.
~~~
you sit at a table that's too small to comfortably eat at in a restaurant that's too dimly lit to even read the menu.
"don't do that," your husband reprimands when you hold up the screen of your phone to the menu to try and read it.
"I can't even see," you hiss back, but you agree, setting down your phone and trying your best to read the words without enough light.
this is your anniversary. you shouldn't be fighting on today, of all days.
when the waiter comes by, your husband orders a bottle of whiskey, top-shelf, likely hundreds of dollars.
"why the hell did you order that? I told you I have work in the morning, I'm not drinking," you remind him.
"it's my anniversary, too, isn't it?" he retorts, just as the waiter returns with the bottle and two glasses.
you just roll your eyes as he proceeds to down his first few drinks of the liquor.
"and how are you paying for it?" you whisper gently to him. you don't want to piss him off, but you can't just let it go.
"you make enough money at your goddamn doctoring job that you don't tell me shit about."
how dare he speak to you that way?
"oh, so you're paying for it out of my salary? seriously?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
"consider it your anniversary gift to me."
you sigh and shut your eyes in frustration as he continues to drink. you're not in the mood to argue over this in public.
it's not like he got you a gift, either. four stupid years of stupid marriage, only for it to lead to this...
fuck.
when's the last time you told each other you loved one another?
when's the last time you had sex beyond scratching that itch, fulfilling that obligation?
when's the last time he looked at you the way the soldier does every day?
woah, okay, enough. don't go there.
you shouldn't go there. you shouldn't be thinking about another man while at dinner with your husband.
he wouldn't treat you like this.
stop this. right now, you tell yourself. it's not right.
it's not.
but you're really fucking sick of pretending like you don't just casually enjoy the attention he gives you.
~~~
so maybe you give in a little.
maybe you let yourself pretend. at home, in bed, under your husband, that it's not him who's touching you. that it's someone else's hands peeling your dress from your skin, someone who appreciates you. who doesn't see you as the person he fucks but the person he gets to have like this.
as he touches you, the room is dark enough that he's nothing more than a body on top of yours, seeking his own pleasure from between your legs.
your marriage has never felt as loveless as it does to you right now, as you realize how he's not even looking at you. not saying your name, not saying anything.
amidst the pain of realizing it's over the second he presses himself into you without any care for how you feel, amidst the guilt of pretending that it's not him taking you right now, there's a flicker.
a flicker of hope. of potential. that maybe it's not too late for you, that you're not actually tied to the man whose ring sits on your finger. that you can be more than just the person your husband mooches off of, uses to pretend like he's more of a man than he actually is.
the man you're thinking of now could never be so insecure, so fucking pathetic as to demean you by pulling out the second he's done without making sure you're satisfied.
"happy anniversary," he mumbles as he turns away from you, already falling asleep from the liquor.
except you're wide awake. the thoughts in your head are swirling, and the heat in your stomach is growing.
you're up and walking yourself to the bathroom quietly so as to not wake him, shutting the door and flicking on the light.
as you look in the mirror, you don't know what to think. you barely even know who you are anymore, just now realizing the extent to which you're truly miserable. how you don't feel seen, how you feel like a shadow in your own home.
how you feel like someone when the soldier looks at you. how you feel special.
there's a man out there who would kill for you if you asked him to.
you can't help it when you brace one hand on the bathroom sink, the other reaching between your thighs.
would he be quiet when he fucks you, the way he normally is? or would he let himself go, let you know how much he enjoys feeling you?
would he ruin you so quickly you wouldn't even know what hit you? or would he torment you, taking you apart so slowly that you begin to cry, pleading for more?
you reach to turn on the showerhead to mask the sounds of the whimpers escaping your mouth, even as you bite your lip so hard it tastes metallic on your tongue.
you imagine him looking at you with those eyes of his, the ones that never leave you, as he fucks you on his fingers until you're dripping down to your ankles.
before you know it, you're coming. you're hunched over the bathroom sink uncomfortably, your fingers struggling between your thighs.
it's awful, and it's amazing, because the thoughts of what he would do to you continue running rampant in your head.
as you hop in the shower, you tell yourself that you've done nothing wrong.
you've done nothing wrong, technically.
right?
~~~
the next morning, you can't look yourself in the eyes in the mirror.
you can't wake up your husband to tell him you're leaving, to kiss him goodbye, because you're still reeling from the night before.
you're a good person. you're a committed, devoted wife, even through your struggles. you're going to stand by your husband and quit letting the soldier ogle you because it's wrong.
when you get to work, you toss your purse on your desk and change into your scrubs. the entire time, you can't help but be overly aware of the weight on your left hand. it's weighing heavy on your heart and mind, not just your hand. you want to take it off, to relieve yourself of the pressure for the day.
except you know he'll notice if you take it off. he'll see it. it might even be so substantial that he speaks up, questions you about it.
you're stuck.
by time you gather up the courage to go see him, you're told he went on a quick last minute assignment. he'll be back this afternoon.
somehow, that's both a relief and a disappointment. you have to act normal, put last night behind you. you have to move forward.
you don't have a choice.
~~~
in normal circumstances, he goes to get cleaned up before you evaluate him post-mission.
this isn't normal circumstances. somehow, you're frantic to see him, just to remind yourself what normalcy looks like. you need to lay your eyes on him, remind yourself he's actually a colleague, not a fantasy you've made up in your head. that way you can fucking get over yourself.
you've got too many thoughts at once, all swirling around like a hurricane in your head.
this isn't like you. you need to relax, calm yourself down.
but somehow, you feel more trapped than you've ever been right now. even in this job where you have free reign, take orders from next to no one, get along with your coworkers...
the ring on your finger continues to weigh heavy, no longer a symbol of connection. just a ball and chain.
just when you get yourself so riled up that you think you might quit your job and leave your husband without a word, there he is. you're standing in the doorway of your office as they lead him down a hallway to his quarters.
he's back, covered from head to toe in blood, sweat, and dirt. he's wearing that tactical gear you rarely see him in. he looks better than you think you've ever seen.
you want to hide the way you gasp, the way you're taken aback at the sight of him like this.
but when you're there, he knows. when you're in the room, his gaze has nowhere better to be. he's far more observant than you know, reading your body language better than you yourself can, thanks to his enhancements.
he immediately knows something is different about you. how your heartbeat is racing faster. how you're not the calm and collected person you usually are.
he ditches his handlers, telling them to fuck off as he walks over to you. they're none the wiser.
he towers over you, black synthetic covering the lower half of his face as he glares down at your shocked expression, sensing the way your face heats under his watchful eye.
you normally don't respond to his gaze.
something is off.
something is different.
he permits himself to speak.
"how was your anniversary?"
the question, particularly from him, shocks you and angers you all at once. you try your best not to respond, keeping your real thoughts to yourself, as you let out a scoff and roll your eyes. the whole time, you fidget with the ring on your finger, gently tugging it up to your knuckle, and back down to its seat...
your lack of a response is just another indicator on top of your inability to hold eye contact, the way your eyes roam.
roam his face, catching the scratch on his left temple, noting the way his hair is a mess.
even though he sees everything, always maintains his composure, he's still wound up from the mission. maybe his dick is still hard from having watched the life drain from the man he was just sent to kill.
you don't know it, but he's just as amped as you are right now.
he's never crossed the line. he's never touched you.
he shouldn't do this.
but then your eyes meet his again, and the choice is made for him.
his hands come to your hips, gripping you tightly, forcing you backwards into your office as he kicks the door shut behind him. you almost trip as he walks you backwards, but his hold on you is so firm, it keeps you upright.
his eyes are pointed in a manner you've never seen before. you've seen them narrowed in confusion and in anger when you've told him your life stories, but never like this. never with all the heat in his body manifesting itself into his expression as he looks at you.
you could spend the rest of your life right here, being watched, observed, if only by him.
he's shameless as he drops his eyes from yours, down the slope of your nose to your lips, gently smeared with tinted lip balm.
did you wear bright lipstick for your husband?
what would it look like smeared on his skin?
his eyes continue their descent, all the while you make no effort to fight against it. you should push him away, tell him this is inappropriate, that you know where this is leading.
even in your baggy scrubs, he manages to make you feel naked and exposed.
you might swoon.
once his gaze finally trails back up to meet yours after what feels like a lifetime, you're powerless against the way you whine,
"please."
without hesitating, he's gripping your hip tighter in his flesh hand, pushing his thumb up under your shirt to finally feel your skin. his metal arm, little more than a weapon attached to his body, comes up to wrap itself in your hair, tugging roughly to expose your neck to him. you gasp at the sudden motion, but comply without a second thought.
his flesh hand moves from your hip, ever so slowly, to remove the mask from his face.
there he is.
you hear it clatter onto the desk behind you where he tosses it, his hand coming back to hold you tightly, fingers pushing up under your shirt to splay his huge palm against your skin.
he leans down, pressing his face into your neck, and he inhales so sharply against you that you can hear the swoosh of air. he adjusts his grip on you, holding you closer to him as he presses his lips to your flesh.
his mouth is warm, and wet, and then-
he bites down, hard.
"oh, fuck," you hiss, but still make no attempts to move away, instead finally bringing your hands to his waist, holding him in place the way he's doing to you.
he makes a noise against you as he licks over your skin where he just bit into you, and you know right now: you're so fucked.
he covers every inch of your exposed skin in his marks. he wants you to remember this, to know who left all these bruises on your delicate skin, even long after the fact.
all the need he's harbored, all the desire he's kept perfectly under control over the last year, all comes undone in less than a second.
you squeal as you find yourself being shoved to your knees in front of him, his metal hand holding the back of your head so you can't escape.
as you look up to meet his gaze, he knows he could keep you here forever.
maybe he should.
your hands find their way to his outer thighs to hold yourself up, and you watch as he continues to just stare you down without making a move.
"soldat?" you inquire. it must shake him from his thoughts as his other hand comes to his cargo pants, pulling and ripping at the buttons and zippers. he's already straining against the fabric, finally having you like this, at his mercy.
he's never letting another human being see you like this again, least of all your husband.
your husband.
"give me your hand," he orders, and the sound of his voice in your ears heats your whole body. you shakily reach your hand to his, where he grasps it softly, taking a moment to look at your ring as though admiring it.
and then you feel his fingers wrap around it, tugging the platinum gently off your finger, and then-
you hear it clatter to the floor, and you watch as he stomps on it, the beautiful diamond shattering to pieces.
"look at me," he hisses at you. you're still in awe, in shock, jaw dropped from the sight. what this means for you now, what it represents.
his hand comes to your chin when you don't move quick enough for him, forcing you to look back up at him.
"you belong to me."
you want to revel in the words, forget all about the ring destroyed on the floor. your eyes so badly want to flutter shut at the thought.
you know better.
"I own you."
this time, his words are a smidge gentler. the look in his eyes almost softening, showing some real emotion behind them, how badly he's wanted this, too.
your ring is on the floor, destroyed. your marriage in the gutter, hopeless. your body and soul in the hands of the man above you.
it's so refreshing, somehow so freeing to repeat back to him,
"you own me."
only then does the weight of your ring finally fall from your shoulders, the chain finally cut, freeing you to tie yourself to who you really want.
his hand on your head pushes your head forward, pressing your face up against the outline of his cock under his black boxers.
"damn straight," he whispers. he releases you momentarily to yank the fabric out of the way, and you're immediately drooling all over yourself when you see him.
you don't get the chance to stare for long because he's yanking your jaw open with one hand and pushing himself down your throat without another word.
it should be uncomfortable, making your jaw ache as you struggle to hold your mouth open enough, eyes watering, unable to breathe.
it's exactly what you want.
he wastes no time in moving your head for you, thrusting in and out of your mouth, watching as your lips part to take him without complaint. your eyes shut as you eagerly let him fuck your face, tears falling down your cheeks to mix with the mess of saliva collecting at the sides of your mouth.
you grip his legs as tightly as you can, hands still shaking, as he continues to use you the way he's longed for since he met you.
"you're absolutely fucking perfect, you know that?" he grits out amidst his rough movements. "you're perfect."
did your husband tell you how good you were?
did your husband even appreciate getting to have you like this?
you're a mess, whining and whimpering around him, disgusting noises filling the room and catching his ears.
you want nothing more than this, for him to want you, to keep going. but you don't know how much more of this you can take.
as though on cue, he quits moving, holding your head down on him as he lets go down the back of your throat. his release fills your mouth so wholly, dripping down your chin as you don't swallow in time.
he hauls you to your feet and sits you down on the desk behind you. his flesh thumb finds your chin and wipes away the remainder of his mess.
"gonna fuck you 'til you don't know where you're at," he hisses, reaching his metal hand to yank at the string on the waistband of your scrubs. "tell me you want it."
"shit, I want it," you affirm, your voice absolutely wrecked from the way he just debauched your throat. "I want you so bad."
you watch as he pulls on the string, bow coming undone, the sound of nothing but both your breathing in your ears. you let him reach for the hem of your shirt, gently dragging it up and over your head. you kick off your shoes so he can ease your pants down and off, finally getting them out of the way.
in all the times you felt his gaze on you, it's never felt like this. you've seen him look needy, wanting, staring at you like you're the most valuable and priceless treasure known to man.
this is something else. this is him realizing he gets to touch you, gets to see what he's imagined under your clothes for a year. he gets to strip you, gets to have the only thing he's ever wanted more than the feeling of someone dying at his hands.
he gets to have you.
he gets to make you scream in pleasure, all because of him, only for him.
it just then hits him that you're in your office where anyone could hear what's only for his ears.
his metal hand comes to rest atop your lips, gently sealing your mouth shut to prevent any sounds from escaping. at the same time, his flesh fingers find their way beneath your underwear.
if not for his hand keeping you from moaning out, you'd be a wreck, a noisy mess all from a single one of his touches.
"look at you," he whispers, pressing his fingers further down between your folds to where you're aching for him so desperately. "so warm and wet for me."
he grunts as he pushes two fingers up into you, making your whole body withdraw automatically.
"shhh, I've got you," he tells you, and you ease into the feeling of his fingers inside you making your mind go blank.
you've never heard him talk this much, ever. the sound of his voice makes you feel so giddy, the fact that he's speaking to you making you feel relaxed beyond belief. he's always so deliberate, so careful, that the feeling of him talking to you like this only exacerbates the heat in your abdomen.
he continues to hold your face firmly, keeping eye contact the whole time as his fingers move inside you, deeper than you could get yourself the night before.
fuck, the night before, when you got off to a scenario almost mirroring the situation you're in now. you let out a low whine against his hand, and he steps closer, staring at every reaction that manifests itself in your eyes.
he looks determined. excited.
you don't want to come too fast. you don't want to embarrass yourself, except-
you grip the edge of the desk tightly as your orgasm takes you with little warning, your whole body trembling, his hand never faltering.
he keeps working you through it, continuing the pace and rhythm he's set even when your body feels like nothing more than liquid. it's so much, it's too much, you want to protest.
"again."
you don't know if you can, cries bubbling in the back of your throat as your eyes struggle to open to catch his gaze. you can't, you can't...
"you will."
is he an actual mind reader?
he might be, you think, as your body shakes uncontrollably as he sends you into a second release so quickly you might die from overstimulation.
you lay back, head tapping the desk as you try to catch your breath. your hands are shaking as you bring them to smooth our your hair, trying to calm yourself, wiping the drool from your chin.
you can't possibly force yourself to move right now, not even to sit up as you feel him stepping in between your legs, the insides of your thighs against his hips. you shiver yet again as he trails a metal thumb up the soaked fabric of your underwear.
he hooks his thumb inside the fabric, pulling, ripping it from your skin to see the way you're already swollen and still dripping for him.
"all mine," he hisses, cupping you in one large hand and leaning over where you're laying on the desk. his face is right in front of yours as he grits out, "this, you? all mine."
you nod lazily, eyes fluttering open and shut repeatedly, humming your approval.
his flesh hand comes to rest under your head as he lines himself up against you, between your legs. your body moves before you're aware of it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, legs moving to hitch themselves around his hips.
"please," you mumble. you're already half gone, all thanks to him.
now you need him to fuck every last thought, every last doubt out of your head.
"that's my girl, begging for it like you should," he mutters, pressing a metal thumb to your clit just as he steps forward, thrusting himself entirely into you in one quick motion.
"fuck," you scream out suddenly, keening at the burn, how utterly stretched beyond belief you feel.
he quickly covers your mouth again with his free hand to keep you quiet, rubbing you between your legs to help you settle. "you're fine," he whispers to you, "doing perfect."
you nod your head vehemently, trying to compose yourself, all of your limbs clinging so tightly to wrap yourself around him.
next thing you know, he's pulling out about halfway, just to drive back into you with so much force it rips a moan from your throat. he doesn't hesitate, having craved having you like this for so long, fucking you with all the built-up tension inside of him.
the sting gives way to the most blinding pleasure between your legs. you're a complete mess as you hold onto him like you never want to let go. you feel the way his fingers move against you in tandem with his thrusts. if you had any critical thinking skills left, you would wonder how he finagled this position, how can he possibly be comfortable leaning over you like this...
he doesn't seem to care, grunting and wincing with every movement. this is the first time you've ever seen his face contort, the first time you've seen him actually put his feelings on display for you to see.
you're infatuated with him, the way he's showing you a part of him no one has seen before, the way he's fucking you like he has something to prove.
you're a mess, losing control of your muscles, your stomach cramping as you're already on the edge so soon.
by the way his breathing changes, you sense he is, too.
"come for me, right now," he grits. "on my cock, for no one else, ever again."
you're helpless against the way your body follows his orders, every other part of you going lax as you squeeze him so tight it sends him into his own release.
you don't know how long you stay like that, him leaning over you and still buried so deep inside of you. you feel a burning pain in every fiber of your being, but it's the most satisfied you've felt in a long time.
you listen to him breathe against your ear, and you eventually realize he's looking at you again, watching as you come back to yourself.
your mind slowly starts to turn on again, as does your body.
you blink once. twice. you swallow.
what have you done?
the instant his hand falls away from your mouth, you begin to panic.
"my husband-"
"I'll take care of him."
you don't want that to sound appealing. you don't want to savor in how hot and bothered the idea of him killing for you sounds.
"I can't ask you to do that."
he lets out a rough exhale.
"then I'll ask you. let me take care of the motherfucker who kept me from you for so long."
he feels the way you tense, how you squeeze around him, still half-hard inside you.
he wants to smirk at you, tell you that he knows. he knows you like the idea of it, that you get off on it the same way he does.
"let me take care of him."
"they'll think it was me, I'll be the one who gets accused-"
"you think I'm gonna fucking let that happen to you?"
you don't know what to say.
deep down, you knew he would do this for you. you knew he would do anything for you, but the fact that he's actually confirming it, telling you that he'll kill your husband for you?
you were an idiot to not give in to this, to him, sooner.
he watches how the look in your eyes morphs from one of concern to one of contentment. he's already hard again by time you tell him,
"do it."
~~~
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141 notes · View notes
mischievousmoony · 11 months ago
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hi, ok i have another idea for a fic which again totally up to you to write!! but i had an idea with dad!james and r where their kid is like equally obsessed with their mum as james is with r and one day james decides to prank their kid by saying something bad about the r while their kid is present and the baby just goes off. i feel like you would do an amazing job with this! feel free to ignore too. have a perfectly splendid day!!
-🪷
"the baby just goes off" painted a hilarious picture of an infant yelling at his dad in my mind lmao. ty for the request this warmed my heart to write + special thanks to @moonpascal for chatting a little about kids, gave me the reassurance & inspiration i needed
𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜
⟢ dad!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, dad/husband!james, mom/wife!reader, no use of y/n, no name for the son, idk how to write a child's dialogue tbh son's supposed to sound 4 years old
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James gladly goes out of his way to mention to anyone who will listen that his little one is unmistakably a Mummy's boy. From family to friends to the poor souls who bag his groceries, James will talk the ear off of anyone he can.
He finds it to be the most endearing thing in the world— the way that your son is as obsessed with you as James is. Always staying close and clinging to you, touching affection radiating from every hug and smile.
Today, as he watches his son run back and forth across the carpet, handing his mother block after block just to see her face light up after each gift, his awe and admiration are insurmountable.
Last night, James surprised you with a pair of earrings that you have been wishing for. When your face lit up upon receiving the little leatherette box, so did your son's. He didn't quite understand why you were so excited about some cube, but since then he's been trying to replicate your excitement with presents of his own.
"Oh my! Another one! Thank you, buddy," you beam, you're gratefulness and delight unwavering as he hands you the sixth block.
Your son giggles, bouncing in his spot as you inspect each side of the little wooden toy, telling him how much you adore the blue penguin painted on one of its faces.
That's another thing that touches James' heart: the tender nurture and care that you bestow upon your son with such unwavering devotion and warmth. It has James convinced that you must be the best mum in the entire world.
He might just melt at the sight of you now, kneeling happily in front of a growing pile of blocks as your son scurries back and forth, adding to your collection. James sits cross-legged to your right, resting his elbow on his knee and laying his head in his hand, watching the two he loves most in the world with hearts in his eyes.
You gasp, as if surprised when handed block number seven. "Oh, this is my favorite one yet. How did you know I love zebras?" you ask, your thumb tracing over the red acrylic paint on the side of the block.
By the time you have twelve, nearly half of his collection, you say, "I have a lot of blocks here, buddy, do you want to give some to Daddy?"
"No!" your son protests immediately, running off to his toy box for the thirteenth time.
You and James both chuckle, exchanging amused glances. Finding your son's reaction hilarious, James’s mischievous side has him dreaming up new ways to push his buttons. Your son thinks the world of you, and James is curious to see what the little guy will do if he claims otherwise.
"Well, what am I gonna do with all of this? Should I..."
You leave your son in suspense for a moment, and his hands hover over his toy box as looks at you, hanging onto your every word in anticipation.
"...build a castle!?"
“Yeah!” your son cheers, scooping three more blocks into his arms, thrilled to supply the bricks for your castle.
James nudges you, a sign of his upcoming playfulness. “You sure about that, bud? Mummy is absolutely rotten at building castles.”
Halfway across the carpet, your son stops in his tracks, glaring at his father as he tries to keep his blocks from falling out of his arms.
Stifling a laugh, you press your fingertips to your lips. By now, you’re used to James’ bursts of mischief, and you’re more than happy to sit back and let them play out. Unless you’re an active participant, of course.
You muster up a scandalized gasp as he reaches for your mountain of presents, claiming three blocks in one hand.
“No!” your little one complains, rushing to drop his three in your lap to replace the ones that James stole, “those are Mummy’s!”
“You sure Mummy deserves all these blocks?” James asks, starting to stack them into a tower, “You watch, I’ll build a castle that’ll make her’s look like rubbish.”
Your son hastily makes his way over to his dad, both arms extended as he collides with the tower and sends the blocks flying. "Stop it," he says as he scoops up the nearest block and runs it back over to you, shouting, "Mummy's castles are the best!"
He climbs into your lap, clutching onto the toy tightly as one of your arms wraps around him, and you feel your heart start to melt as you rub soothing circles into his back. You look over your son's head, your eyes sparkling with affection as you meet your husband's tender gaze.
Not having the heart to mess with him for very long, James concedes, "You're right, I'm not being very nice, am I?"
"Nuh-uh!" your son replies, shaking his head with exaggeratedly vigor, the curls he gets from his dad bouncing about.
"What can I do to make it up to her?" James asks, turning the ordeal into a subtle lesson as he dramatically feigns sorrow and despair over his actions.
"'Pologize," your son commands, his head swiveling to look at James expectantly over his shoulder.
James puts on his most sheepish, apologetic smile, looking from his son to you. "I'm very sorry. He's right, your castles are the best. Can you forgive me, love?"
"Aw, of course I forgive you," you say warmly, your amusement manifesting as a wide smile. You lean back so you can get a good view of your son's face when you tell him, "You know, I bet what Daddy really wants is to build a castle with us. I love your presents, bud, but we don't want to leave Daddy out do we?"
He looks down at the block in his little hand. "No," he replies shyly.
"So why don't you ask him to build a castle with us?" You give him a pat on the back before releasing him from your arms. "Go on," you coax.
He steps closer to James, holding the block close to his chest. "We can all build a castle," he offers.
"Yeah?" James' face lights up, and it's not for show. Genuine joy takes over his features as he ruffles your son's hair, responding, "I'd love nothing more, little man."
"But you have to be nice to Mummy!" he demands, his little voice firm and earnest as he looks up at James with wide, serious eyes.
"I promise, I will be on my best behavior," James assures him, his voice sincere as he gives a playful salute. That's enough for your son, because he finally awards James with his very first block, which he accepts with pride.
"Good!" your son cheers, already moving on to the pile of blocks to start stacking them as he proclaims, "Mummy is the best, and we have to show it!"
Your lips part as you suck in a breath, a quiet gasp. Receiving your son's affection never fails to make your heart swell.
You don't feel James' eyes on you, but he's watching— admiring, more like, as he takes in the way that you soften at your son's sweet words. A smitten smile plays at his lips as he agrees, "She is the best, isn't she?"
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
2K notes · View notes
luvmailing · 5 months ago
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"i've always wanted something simple..."
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「 tws + notes: no tws, potentially ooc, unedited as BAWLS, what do you mean it's been a while since i've last written, domestic (kinda), lowkey heavily implied romance,,,, blame the spirit of valentine's day (。﹏。) 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic relationship <3 」
↳ ft. bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, and tim drake
author's note: yeah so... i'm still dc rotted. here are little things that i just find cute つ﹏⊂ <33 gonna keep it 120% w/ u, life is BUSY!!!! but we ball regardless :D you know im gonna find time to write my superhero fanfics anyways >:3
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▸ BRUCE loves when you wear his clothes. simple but recognizable, his clothes become a silent way of saying "they're with me." and considering that most of the pieces in his wardrobe that are downright iconic, almost all of gotham knows who's jacket you're wearing when you step out in it.
he's not insecure by any means, and it isn't quite a display of possessiveness— but rather, affection and devotion. you're special to bruce, and even if it's through subtle means, he's more than happy to show it.
▸ DICK likes to have you within reach. no reason in particular, he says, but you know that's not quite true. maybe he's secretly a little ashamed of being so clingy. either way, he wants (or needs) you to be close to him.
it doesn't really matter to him how he achieves this either. whether it's his hand in yours, his arm around your shoulders, his hand resting on the small of your back, or his arm linked with yours— he's happy as ever. if you're a fast walker and by some miracle, you weren't already holding hands, dick's not beyond tugging your shirt from behind to reel you back in.
"are you trying to escape me? i'm wounded." dramatic.
▸ JASON loves helping you run errands. to be completely honest, he would be content doing just about anything as long as you're around, but there's something special about being the one that you drag around for mundane things like buying groceries or getting gas.
he also loves to be helpful to you. always offering to get the things off higher shelves that you just can't reach, always getting out the car first to pump your gas— there's just something about that shy but pleased smile of yours that makes doing little things for you so much more rewarding. and, yeah, it's silly but jason's heart practically leaps out his chest when you thank him by planting a little kiss on his cheek.
▸ TIM loves to take naps with you. he values the time that he has with you, and of course, would much rather spend it conscious— but there's something particularly special about being able to rest at your side. it's a declaration of trust from him— and there's an undeniable tenderness he feels when he realizes that he's able to let his guard down for once.
except... tim doesn't notice how frequent this habit has become. he's gotten so used to napping with you, that if he's feeling like he's been awake for too long, he'll hunt you down just to get some rest. your plans of reading peacefully on the couch are thwarted— prepare for him to wrap his arms around you while he shifts to lay his head on your chest. no words, no questions— guess you'll have to set aside whatever you're doing now.
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— reblogs always appreciated!
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camzeecorner · 11 months ago
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𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄
smut ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ
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I lay on my back, gazing at the familiar patterns on my ceiling, the soft glow of the lamp casting gentle shadows as I listened to Matt flip through his pages repeatedly. It was almost hypnotic, the way he immersed himself in his studies. I couldn't help but wonder what fueled his passion for school; he cared for it with a devotion that was rare among our peers. People often whispered that I kept him around for his grades, that I used him, but they didn't understand. Matt was my favorite person, my best friend.
No one ever talked to him, and girls never seemed to approach him, which, oddly enough, made me happy. I liked how closed off he was to everyone else; it felt like I had a little piece of him all to myself. I began to wonder if Matt had ever been with a girl. He never mentioned crushes or the girls he found pretty, which was strange considering how open I was with him. I shared everything about my life, my escapades, my heartaches, but his world remained a mystery. At first, I didn't want to push him, but now I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was just embarrassed to share his secrets with me.
Sitting up, I fixed my gaze on him. Matt was different from the other boys at our school—only Chris and Nick shared that same vibe, but for entirely different reasons. To me, he was always attractive, with a magnetic charm that made my heart race. His sharp jawline and godlike features were mesmerizing, and his hair was perfectly soft, almost inviting to touch. But it was his eyes that captivated me the most—an enchanting shade of blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. His glasses only accentuated his striking looks, making him the quintessential nerd, though never in my eyes. It was a shame that other girls couldn’t see what I saw. I pondered a little longer, taking in every detail, my heart fluttering as I examined him from head to toe, wondering if he could ever see himself the way I saw him.
“hey Matt..” I call out, catching his attention “..yea” Matt said looking up from his textbook. He turned his head slightly to the side so he could see me. I took a moment looking at him, “You ever..kiss a girl?” I say smiling. Matt shifted in his seat quickly reverting his eyes back to his book. He cleared his throat, his chest rising and falling. He began looking over the words on his book nervously. “Why are you asking me that..?” He spoke quietly. I got up walking next to him. I placed my hands on his shoulders running them up and down. “I’m just wondering matty.. you gonna answer my question?” He looked around in front of him, he had beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “I really have to study .. you’re disturbing me.” I knew he was trying to avoid the conversation, but I was curious. I wanted to know everything about him. “It’s just one question..” I say scoffing. I look at his stuff sprawled out on my desk. I quickly grab his things and place them in his bag. “I was using those!” Matt barked at me. Turning around in his chair fast. “Matt you’ve never kissed a girl have you..” I whisper to him.
I bend my body down so I’m eye level with him. “You’ve never felt the touch of someone else on you” I lean forward to whisper in his ear. “S-stop” Matt stuttered. It was so fulfilling listening to him speak pathetically. He didn’t want me to stop. “Matt..” I look in his eyes, then his lips. His soft pink plump lips. They were chapped from the amount of time he had bit them. I bring him to my bed sitting him on the edge.
I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted to do. I kissed him.
It felt like a suction cup and I never wanted to release him. It took him a moment to realize I was kissing him. He moved him lips in a matching pace to mine. I tug on his hair pulling him even closer to me. I lick his top lip asking for an entrance. He doesn’t understand that, so I bite his lip gently. He gasps opening his mouth slighty. Being fast i slip my tongue inside his mouth. I find his tongue and start to gently suck on it, moaning into the kiss. I pull away with a string of saliva connected to our mouths. Matt’s eyes are wide open. “What..what was that for.” i shrug my shoulders smiling at him. Gently placing my lips back on him. I pull away and chuckle. “I was curious of what you tasted like..” I look up at him. His eyebrows raise. “I’ve never done that before..” he smiles blush slightly. I smile at him looking down. I licked my lips, tasting him. I look at Matt and smirk. “Have you ever seen a girl naked?” I bite my lip at him moving his glasses back onto his face as they slid down. Matt shook his head. “uhm..no.. I-i haven’t” “do you want to?” I ask him smirking. “Well. I don’t know.. if that’s a good idea” I stand up and take my shirt off. “I don’t see why it’s an issue.. if you want me to stop, just tell me and I’ll stop.”
I walk over to my bed, climbing on it. I scoot back so I’m at the headboard. I look at Matt and pat the spot beside me signaling him to sit there. Matt gets up and walks over. I can see his slightly hard boner, making his pants tighter. I smirk at myself. He sits beside me, putting some space between us. I scoot so I’m closer to him. I reach for Matt’s hand interlocking our fingers. I place our hands on my chest, gently squeezing them. Matt’s breath hitches in his throat. “Oh my god.” Matt spoke in a hushed breath. I let go of his hand reaching behind me unclasping my bra. I let it fall in my lap, picking it up tossing it to the side. His eyes immediately look down and my bare chest. “Do you like them matty?” He nods his head quickly. “I’ve never seen them in person, they never looked this perfect in the movies.” I laugh at his comment, enjoying the praise. He smiles lightly.
I lean forward grabbing Matt’s face. I kiss him rougher than I did the first time. He climbs on top of me making sure not to break the kiss. He begins massaging my boobs rolling my nipple in between his fingers. “Oh fuck Matt” I grind my hip upwards towards his hard erection trying to create friction. I reach my hand down gently palming him. He moans loudly into my mouth. I could’ve came right then and there from his sounds. I pull away from him and flip us over quickly. I straddle his waist. He’s lying down and I’m on top of him. I begin unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling it off of his body throwing it in the same direction as mine. I trail my hands up and down his toned stomach. “Do you want to have sex with me Matt?” I ask him shyly. “Yes.” He speaks quick. “But.. I don’t know how..” he looks away getting embarrassed. He’s so cute. “ that’s okay baby. Just lie down and be good f’me” I reach down kissing him. I pull away and get off of him pulling my shorts off. I look up and see Matt copying my movements, taking my underwear off I get back on Matt. I grab his fingers and place them right into my wet folds.
He gasps loudly looking up at me. I roll my body into his hand enjoying the feeling. I’ve never felt like this towards anyone before. “Oh g-god m-matt.. you make me feel s-so good” I moan throwing my head back. I feel him moving his fingers in a circular motion. I grip his wrist feeling my stomach tightening. He slips two fingers in moving them fast, in and out. “Oh god Matt.. right t-there.” I moan loudly. “Shit shit” my breath picking up. “Matt I’m gonna cum” bucking my hips forward, I cum all over his fingers feeling my body shaking. I slowly come down from my intense orgasm, feeling limp. “Did I do good for you?” I look at Matt and smile nodding my head. “So good baby” I kiss him. “Such a good boy” I whisper in his mouth. I pull away grabbing his hand placing his fingers into my mouth sucking my juices off of him. I lick each finger making sure to clean them perfectly. “You wanna taste me baby?” “Please..” I bring my lips towards him and kiss him sliding my tongue in his mouth, my cum mixing between us. He inhaled in the kiss. “So sweet” I pull away, resting my forehead against his. Leaning back up i repositioned myself so I’m sitting on his hard dick. “I’m gonna ride you now okay baby” he nods looking up at me.
I rub his cock slowly giving him satisfaction. He moans lowly closing his eyes at the feeling. “That feel good baby?” “S’good.. so good mommy” I stop my motions right then looking at him. Matt opens his eyes fast, and begins to sit up. He looked so scared. So vulnerable. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that I’m so sorry-“ “don’t apologize,” I smirk at him. Cupping his face tilting my head to the side. “be a good boy for mommy okay” he whimpers at my words bucking his hips up. I sit up, placing his tip at my entrance rubbing it back and forth before slipping it into me. “Fuck Matt, you’re s-so huge” I pull my body up and slam back down, fast. Repeating the process until I build a pace going back up and down. Throwing my head back I moan. God I could ride him all day. My legs felt like they were getting weaker and weaker. I place my hands on his chest gaining balance. Matt noticed how tired my body was getting, he grabbed my thighs and started to thrust up. For a virgin he was so good at this. Hitting every perfect spot, at such amazing angles. I could feel him start to twitch in me. He must’ve been so close.
“M’so close mo-mommy” he whimpered. “Wait for me baby.. can you do that? Be a g-good boy and wait for me” he moaned and started gaining speed adding his fingers. He rubbed fast on my clit making me scream. “Fuck shit- oh my god- I’m gonna cum” he kept going fast hitting the same spot over and over. The pressure from his fingers and the way he was fucking himself into me making me squirm. “C’mon mommy.. wanna feel you cum on my cock” hearing him say that was enough to send me over the edge. I whimper chocking on my sobs. “I’m cumming Matt shit shit-“ I felt the knot in my stomach releasing over matt for the second time. I saw liquid flow out of me fast, Matt getting pushed out of me in the process. I felt his cum dripping out of me. Our fluids mixing together. “You made me squirt Matt..” I look at him shocked. I begin giggling covering my face. I look at Matt in disbelief, “No one has ever made me feel that good.” He smiles at me through his heavy breathing, the look he was giving me was enough to make me want to fuck him again.“does that make me special?” He closed his eyes trying to catch his breath. His glasses had fogged up, I grab them wiping the lenses. “You’ve always been special to me.” I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I’ll get something to clean the mess” I get up going into my bathroom and grab a cloth. I run the rag through hot water, ringing the extra water out. Walking back to my room I climb on my bed beside matt.
I gently wipe him down, being careful not to startle him. I can tell he’s sensitive; he hisses every time I touch him. Getting up, I head to my closet and grab some clothes for us. Walking back to Matt, I hand him the clothes. “Thank you,” he says, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Of course,” I reply, slipping into my own outfit.
I climb into bed, scooting next to Matt and resting my head on his chest. It feels so comfortable here; he always makes me feel safe, like I can truly be myself. My mind races with thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder how we would look together as a couple. I look up at him, my heart pounding, and finally speak up. “I wanna be with you, Matt. I’ve never thought any less of you. You’ve always been so perfect to me.” My voice is quiet, but I hope he hears me.
For a few seconds, he doesn’t respond, just picks at his lips with his teeth. Doubt creeps in, and I start to regret my confession. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? He clears his throat, licks his lips, and pushes his hair back before turning to look at me, gently grabbing my chin. “You’ve always been my favorite girl,” he says, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. I smile into the kiss, warmth flooding my cheeks. When he pulls away, he tucks some hair behind my ear and locks his fingers in my hair, scanning my face as he tugs his lip between his teeth. “I wanna be with you too…”
In that moment, I feel like the happiest girl alive. I leap up from the bed, swinging my arms around him in pure joy. I’ve never felt this happy before! I shower him with kisses all over his face, feeling myself melt into him. He giggles, wrapping his arms around me, and I finally place a gentle kiss on his cheek, relaxing into his embrace. It’s perfect.
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago
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Sweet Sunday NSFW
Obanai x Fem!Reader
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: this is an AO3 request :3 gonna try to prioritize requests sent on AO3 since I plan on being more active there. This is short but sweet :) also I don’t know Obanai too well(it’s been forever since I read the manga) so sorry if he’s a little out of character… or if this just sucks. LMAO
warnings: pussy eating, very soft and sweet sex, Obanai worships your body, breeding, mostly nsfw, fluffy
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You never did quite like waking up early in the morning, and thankfully your boyfriend didn’t either. Even when he was supposed to be off fighting demons, Obanai hated getting up before 10 am.
So that’s why on his day off, the two of you stayed curled up together the entire morning, sharing kisses and soft words of love. It had taken him so long to open up to you, and now that he had, it was almost like he was making up for lost time.
“You’re just radiant…” he purred, brushing back your hair from your sleepy face. “My love, my angel… my everything.”
It was enough to get your cheeks feeling hot to the touch, your heart beating out of your chest. “And you’re so handsome it makes me nervous…”
Although Obanai still struggled to accept compliments, he knew you would never lie to him. His own pale cheeks flushed pink as he looked away. The bandages that usually covered his mouth lay on the nightstand by your shared bed.
You traced the scars on the corners of his mouth, your eyes full of love and adoration. He could have never thought that anyone would look at his mmm in such a way, especially without his bandages to cover up his biggest insecurity.
“You’re too kind, my love. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream, that I’ll wake up back in my childhood home.”
You paused, your heart twisting in pain. Obanai often suffered from nightmares, waking up screaming and clutching onto you for dear life. It left him trembling, tears pouring down his cheeks as he struggled to soothe himself.
But how he didn’t have to face it alone, he had you.
“You’re safe now, Obanai. You never have to hide away when you’re with me…”
His eyes softened, and he couldn’t help but pull you close. You smelled so sweet, like sunshine and vanilla, with hints of something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Whenever he inhaled your scent, he knew that he was right where he needed to be.
Home.
It didn’t help that your scent also stimulated other feelings… other desires… before he knew it his hands hand wondered along your hips and to your thighs, lightly pushing them open. “O-Obanai…”
You whined softly as his nimble fingers danced across your closed cunt, stopping right above your clit. He pressed down, causing you to squirm lightly as he began rubbing gentle circles into it. “Shh, princess. Let me make you feel good.”
If Obanai was anything, he was devoted to you body and soul. Every little sound and movement you made was enough to get his pants tight and his body ready to please you.
He slid off your soaked panties, giving your pussy a soft kiss. “Gorgeous, taste so sweet, princess…”
Eating you out was one of his favorite activities, and he enjoyed pinching your pretty nipples as he did. Obanai loved to overstimulate you until you were pushing his head away, begging for his cock instead.
But this morning, he decided to let you off with only three orgasms with his tongue. “Okay, okay…”
He lined up his hips with yours, peppering your neck in kisses. “Do you want me?”
“Y-yes please!”
No hesitation, just pure desire for him. It felt good to be wanted, to be so desperately desired by you.
And so Obanai complied, snapping his hips forward to plunge his cock into you, groaning at the feeling if your tight cunt. Despite him not being huge, you always needed a moment to adjust, and he was more than fine with your pretty pussy cockwarming him as you got used to his cock.
“There you go…” he said, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace as your arousal pooled on the bedsheets below. “That’s my girl… that’s my love.”
His fingertips dig into your plump hips as he fucked info you, his warm breath tickling your neck. Obanai wasn’t really the type to moan, but he started getting talkative when he was close.
“S-so good, my love. So fucking good for me…”
The two of you came together, and he didn’t bother to pull out. He planned on marrying you after all, and getting you pregnant was the goal. “G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? My love, my beautiful wife, so pretty for me…”
The two of you laid together, your naked bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat of you snuggled. Soon, you’d have to leave the comfort of your bed to bathe and eat something to replenish your strength…
But for now, you’d need to comfort your lover. He always got a bit shy after sex, embarrassed of the things he said while pussy drunk. You didn’t mind though… you wanted to be his wife after all.
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sebmindbreak · 2 months ago
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Hi, hi! Just gonna start of with saying that your writings are awesome, and quite inspirational!
If it is possible, could it be possible to pair yandere + smut as a request? (Characters: Azure, Two Time and ofc, reader.)
Oneshot of course! (These stupid little exes(?) have a death grip on me, and possibly many others…)
Oh, but please take the time you need to think, and all of that! Drink and eat lots that you possibly can as well!
Honestly looking forward to your future works! 🫶
— Sincerely, a certified hibernating bear. 🐻💤 (I can bet that some people will be able to tell who I am, even when anon…)
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I LOVETHEIR DYNAMICS BRO!! <3
AAAAAAAAAAA ALSO TYTYTY SM <33
it makes me very happy u like my writings! ^u^
scenario : is basically two time and azure fighting over you
TITLE : fighting
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The round had barely begun, and yet the familiar tension in the air had already twisted into something volatile. only as a backdrop to the true conflict unfolding before you.
Not the game. Not the round.
But them.
Two Time and Azure.
They stood in the middle of the killer's domain, nose to nose, like predators baring their teeth over fresh prey you.
Azure's eyes, usually so calm and electric with mischief, were now alight with something far more dangerous: possessiveness. His teeth were gritted behind a too-wide smile, his arms spread as though he were shielding you.but his entire posture screamed "mine."
"You're wasting their time," Azure growled, voice laced with venom. "You think they want to sit in your dusty little altar room again? Staring at bones and gibberish ink? News flash, cultist, they want something real."
Two Time didn't flinch. If anything, they leaned in closer, a twitch in their eye as their gloved hand gripped tighter around the worn, bloodstained dagger they carried like a lifeline.
"You call it gibberish, but you wouldn't understand devotion if it branded itself onto your skin." Their voice was low, but no less threatening. "The Spawn chose them. Not you. They belong beside me."
"Belong?" Azure snapped, stepping forward. "They're not a book for your altar or some sacrificial toy! They need care. Love. Something you clearly know nothing about."
Two Time let out a laugh, sharp and bitter, like a knife dragged against stone. "And you do? Dragging them to your hideout like a pet? You think shoving sweets and distractions in their face is love? It's pathetic."
Azure's hand twitched at his side. You could see the tension in his shoulders, his jaw, the way his usually fluid movements had stiffened into something rigid, ready to pounce.
"At least I don't watch them sleep and write about it in ink! You creep me out more than half the survivors."
Two Time tilted their head, a twitching smile pulling at their lips. "At least I worship them like they deserve. At least I see them as divine."
You stood in the middle of it. Silent. Caught.
Azure reached for you suddenly, fingers brushing your wrist. "Come with me. I'll make you comfortable. You can rest we'll lay together, I'll cook for you. You like waffles , pancakes , anything you want i'll cook it for you ,anything"
But before you could move, Two Time was there, grabbing your other arm like a vice. "No," they hissed. "Come. You said you'd help me. You said you'd be there when the next ritual came. I need you."
Their eyes met across your form, one blazing purple, the other twitching with spiraling devotion. You could feel their breathing on either side of you, could practically hear their racing hearts in your ears. You weren't a person to them in that moment. You were a battlefield. A divine prize.
"You can't have them."
"Neither can you."
"They want me."
"They belong with me."
The words became a blur of snarls and obsession, your name twisted in praise and plea. You could feel the heat from their bodies as they pressed closer, as if proximity might secure victory.
And yet neither would let go.
Neither would yield.
Even in their shared history , exes bound by something broken and furious they had never been more similar than now. Both deluded. Both devoted. Both dangerous.
And both utterly, violently in love with you.
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I HOPE YOU ENJOY!
i love these sillies <33
writing writing , honestly its relaxing asf to write.. , especialy so small thigns like these!
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joelmillerssugarbaby24 · 2 months ago
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DESPERATE- One-Shot
You and Joel get into a fight and he begs you to take him back. Request from @punkestpascal ILY BABY!!
You huff and slam the door behind you, rage blurring your vision.
He had forgotten your anniversary.
You’d been together a whole year and had been waiting for him to surprise you- thinking he had some elaborate plan and that’s why he didn’t say anything when you lay together that morning.
You were pissed. Livid.
He had promised to make more of an effort romantically and yet he still found himself more wrapped up in patrolling and helping your neighbors than your relationship.
Joel was at the table, fiddling with a woodcarving that he had been working on for a few days. He looked up at you with a warm smile and your heart stuttered, almost forgetting what you were angry about. Then it came rushing back and you brushed past him to the bedroom you shared.
“Baby?” He questions, standing abruptly to follow you.
You ignore him, busying pulling off your clothes one by one and tossing them in the corner. You struggle with your shoes and he steps forward.
“Here baby lemme help”
“No i can do it myself, thanks.”
He gazes at you quizzically, brows knit in confusion.
“All right I know I did something, darlin but you’re gonna have to clue me in as to what so I can apologize.”
You stop then and face him, arms crossed tightly.
“Today’s the 12th” you say softly, watching him closely for any recognition. He cocks his head running his fingers through his hair.
“The 12th. Ok… what’s that s’posed to-“ he stops mid sentence realization dawning on his face.
“Oh. Oh baby. Baby, I’m so sorry.” He starts to cross the room, arms stretched out to grab you. You step backwards keeping space in between you knowing that when Joel miller put those gruff hands on you, you tended to lose your ever loving mind. He halts, hands falling to his sides.
“Baby girl I’m so sorry. It’s been such a long week, I’ve been so tired it completely slipped my mind.”
You sigh, arms still crossed over your chest.
“You promised, Joel. You promised to remember this kind of stuff.”
He falls to his knees in front of you, gripping the backs of your legs and nuzzling his cheeks into the front of your thighs.
“M so sorry baby. Didn’t wanna hurt my girl, forgive me” he says against the bare skin of your legs, his voice rumbling and low.
“Don’t like it when you’re mad at me darlin.” He coos running his hands up your thighs to your ass, groaning at the soft pliant skin that greets him.
You sigh and sit on the bed. He takes this as an invitation to lay his head on your lap, still nuzzling and kissing your legs, hands wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.
“Joel”
“Wanted you all day baby. been distracted, guys kept yelling at me cause I was thinking bout you and couldn’t get nothin done.”
He moans, peppering kisses along the skin of your knee. You thread your fingers through his hair, deflated, asking yourself why you could never stay angry at this bear of a man wrapped around your legs like a lost puppy.
“S ok, Joel. Shh it’s ok honey.”
“M so sorry baby. Lemme make it up to you” he drawls, fingers digging into your hips, face rubbing against your thighs, desperate to taste you. You could feel him hardening beneath his jeans, thrusting against the side of the bed so consumed with a need for you it made you clench around nothing.
“Ok baby, all right. Come here.” You purr, pulling his face from your lap, cradling it in your hands.
He gazes at you adoringly, his chocolate eyes so full of remorse you regret even bringing the whole thing up. Nobody saw this side of Joel. The side that was so sweet and tender and caring. So devoted. The side he only showed for you.
You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth, rebelling in the soft moan he utters when you do.
“Mm miss you baby. Need you so bad” he says against your lips, shivering.
You take his hands and slide them under your t shirt placing them firmly on your breasts.
“Mm f-fuck baby. Missed these.” He moans before diving in to kiss you roughly. He squeezes your tits, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your nipples and you groan softly in reply, arching to him. Offering more.
“Mm so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, baby. Anything. What do you want” he asks, his voice desperate, his hands greedy, roaming all over your body.
“Fuck me, Joel.” You pant as he sucks on the soft spot beneath your ear. He chuckles darkly, pulling you to the floor with him, nudging your legs apart.
“Yes Maam” he says, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth, looking down at you with a hunger bordering on desperate.
“Anything for my girl.”
——————
HOPE YOU ENJOY ILY BABIESSSS!! ♥️♥️♥️💋💋💋💋
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yourstrulyrani · 2 months ago
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haii idk if you write for soap but if you do could you do john “id die for you” mactavish x f! “but would you live for me” reader? (could also work with simon if you’d prefer writing for him)
john "soap" mactavish x reader angsty // wc: 1180
a/n: hii can i just say you have perfect timing because i was planning to write about the another 141 boy next!! i'm gonna make this one a little angsty i hope you don't mind 😃👍🏼 also a belated happy national decision day to my fellow americans!! i truly wish you all the best in these next four years ♥︎
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He was supposed to come home today. You had faith in him.
You lay on the couch, void of his touch and sweet words to offer you comfort while you fidgeted with your wedding ring, spinning it around your ring finger deep in thought. You thought that for once your husband would actually come home the date he promised he would. You opened your phone to glance at the text he sent yesterday:
Johnny ♡: I'll be home tomorrow, sweetheart. I can't wait to see you.
Then you shift your eyes down to the text he sent a few minutes ago:
Johnny ♡: Sorry, darling. Price needs us a little longer. Please don't wait for me tonight. I love you.
What was once a strong aroma of the dinner you cooked now became a mockery of the devotion and care you held for Johnny. He loved food, especially your cooking. It's too bad he wasn't here to even eat it. Even the “Welcome Home” garland detached from the wall on one side, now hanging vertically. Everything at this point in the house became a mockery to you now. From the fireplace giving out warmth you'd rather have from Johnny, the couch not dipping on one side because he isn't here, and the feeling of your unswollen lips because he is not here to kiss you senseless.
It was late anyway and Johnny confirmed it himself that he wasn't going to be here, so you decided the only way to get rid of these thoughts was to sleep it off. You went upstairs to the bedroom, the room stinging with the scent of his cologne that you sprayed everyday to remember him by. You left the food you cooked on the kitchen island, careless that it would go bad if left outside unrefrigerated overnight. You slipped out of your clothes into something more comfortable to sleep in and pulled yourself under the covers. 
Usually after a few minutes, you were knocked out. Tonight it was different. You couldn’t get comfortable enough. With the covers over you, it was too hot. With them off, it was too cold. When you slept on your side, it was almost as if the pillow was digging into your neck. When you slept on your back, the mattress sank too low. Your mind needed the rest but there was no use to even attempt again when the only thing on your mind is your husband at war. Sleeping without John knowing that he was out on deployment was already difficult in itself, but knowing he was on deployment and that he didn’t come when he promised makes it even harder.
You punched your pillow one last time in an attempt to soften it up. That’s when you thought your ears were deceiving yourself when you heard the door open. It could only be one man.
You froze at the sound with your fist still stuffed in the pillow. You wanted to get up and greet him yet for some odd reason your legs felt too heavy to move downstairs to do so. You heard the rustling of what you could only assume was his duffle bag and some extra gear that he shredded off until you heard John head up the stairs, the floorboards creaking subtly at his weight. You decided to fake being asleep, your head pointed towards the door to get a view when he finally walks in. With his heavy steps and your heavy heart, you heard the doorknob to the bedroom click open and his sounds grow closer. 
He’s here. You should jump in his arms and smother his face with kisses and tangle your fingers in his hair. You should be feeding him the dinner it took you hours to make after you got off work. You should massage him like you do after every deployment. You’re stubborn though and he came too late even though he promised. There is no use for it now, you thought.
That’s when you heard it, a wince of pain out his mouth. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You sat up gently and widened your eyes to finally take a look at your husband. He left scratchless when you last saw him. Now, he’s battered and bruised. A bruise on the curve of his jaw, his eyes squinted in what you knew was exhaustion, and his shoulders were slumped. Your gaze moved from his shoulders to his neck, where wound dressing was applied, which was hidden by the rest of his t-shirt. Your gaze moves down. Down. You saw his arms in the t-shirt and the cut that slashed across his forearm tattoo. Your heart broke. Broke. You felt the tears prick at your eyes and decided to let them fall. Johnny hasn’t said a word and neither have you, but he broke the silence.
“Sweetheart,” his voice sounded just as wounded as his body looked. You didn’t say anything and could only manage to anticipate what he was going to do next. The view of Johnny became more blurry the more tears welled up in your eyes. It wasn’t until you felt  Johnny’s body wrap around yours in a tight hug that you let them fall with your eyes shut closed. You felt his head snuggle into your neck and the stubble prick across your neck and collarbones. 
You laced your arms through Johnny’s to hug him back, one hand rubbing the nape of his neck and the other moving up and down his back. “Johnny,” your voice broke. He said he wouldn;t be home tonight and he’s here now. You didn’t know whether to feel frustrated or thankful.
You felt his stubble move away and be replaced by a light kiss on his neck. “I’d die for you, dear.”
Those words made your heart twist. You kept rubbing his neck and back for your own comfort and you could finally taste your tears. He said that all the time and you knew he meant it. He’d say it sometimes in the morning when you thought you were at your most unflattering. He’d say it sometimes out of nowhere when he would find you on the couch lounging. This time it was different. He was back home from deployment, physically and mentally battered.
Your lips could only whisper one thing because of the saying now that he's home and not in his best condition, “But would you live for me, Johnny?”
That’s when you felt Johnny’s grip around you loosen in the slightest. That’s when Johnny felt his lips quiver. Now you weren’t the only one crying. “That’s why I came home.” He stammered before he continued, “I couldn’t bear it. I had to come home to you.” His voice felt his arms tighten around you again and another kiss was planted onto your neck.
You couldn’t be mad at him anymore. You were just happy that you had another chance to feel your husband in your arms and his lips on your body. Who knew when it would be the last time?
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i don't miss the college application process one bit
~ yours truly, rani ♥︎
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chaeul · 1 month ago
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Spoilers for the TBNW boxset - be warned/welcome ♥
Hooh boy, strap in guys! Watch me fall apart as I gently take apart and violently scream about the extended tbnw ep10 nc scene (be prepared for lots of parentheses because I have a lot to say and a very hard time putting my thoughts in a sensible order ✌🏼)
“Sex scenes are unnecessary and don’t add anything to the plot, they’re just porn and don’t have any artistic value”- PLEASE, have you seen the way Boss and Noeul do nc scenes??? I have been rewatching and losing my shit for hours, screaming at the partner in crime because these two make me feel so unwell.
Okay, first of all - This is everything to me.
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Phu looking down as Cir tilts his head back even more (a beautiful look on Boss, if I may add). 
I mean, FUCK, the boy has had to guard himself behind an icy cold wall his whole life; can you imagine how freeing it must be to feel so safe he dares to lay himself totally bare? Letting himself be vulnerable, baring his neck and making himself small, kneeling by the feet of his savior (because let’s be real, that’s who Phu is to him), looking up at his everything with pure devotion like he’s worshipping him (because he is 😭).
It’s just a short shared gaze but it’s so meaningful *whines and grabs my emotional support patch of grass*
Listen, I love sex, I really do, and there’s no shame in it. But this is what really gives me a boner: the emotional desire, the intensity. The feelings and intentions are so important. And Boss and Noeul are absolute Kings at it (I can practically hear the partner in crime echoing “Emperors, kings, gods, legends!”)
Every time I rewatch this scene I have to pause here to catch my breath because I get so overwhelmed that my heart feels like it’s gonna leap out of my chest. I’m really giving it my best here, but I feel like no matter what I say, I can’t properly convey with words how this shared gaze makes me feel.
Phew, let’s take a lil breather together, shall we? In- - - and Out - - -
Which brings me to my next point: Moaning.
And not just Phu’s alluring siren call of a moan (we can all hear him loud and clear, thanks and blessings to Mame for finally allowing Noeul to let it all out after holding him back during lita filming), no I’m mainly talking about Cir!
Phu pulls a lot of the attention due to the volume and disinhibition in his voice but if you listen closely, Cir is right there with him with a velvety warm hum, a few groans, sometimes even just an audible breath. He’s way softer but it is audible how much he’s enjoying this; from their simultaneous penetration moans all the way to the grand finale and their shuddering breaths (okay, mostly Phu’s, thank you once again Noeul) as they ride out the high with clasped hands.
Another thing that didn’t go unnoticed was the multiple instances where Phu moans and Cir joins in, just slightly delayed. 
As if he’s groaning in reply.
As if Phu’s sighs drive him to exclaim as well, unable to stop himself.
Because hearing how good he’s making Phu feel is Cir’s ultimate pleasure (Cir’s auralism confirmed once again, if anyone’s still not convinced, heh). 
Gosh, this puppydog of a man lives and loves to serve Phu, in the streets and in the sheets!
And then there’s the hand on Phu’s neck
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Yes, choking kink ✅ We all love it! (Although it looks to me like he’s merely cradling Phu's neck- but the image is beautiful, we are truly blessed.) 
Yes, Phu’s adam’s apple seems to be a very sensitive spot and Cir knows and loves it.
But what if it wasn’t (just) that? And here’s where I bring it right back to moans and by extension (some might say a long stretch) Cir’s auralism.
(Well, given that Cir currently has dick so far down his own throat that he could nuzzle Phu’s lower abs with his nose) one might argue Cir settles for Phu’s neck, his fingers not quite reaching far enough, unable to slide past Phu’s lips (the endgame once again being loud and clear moans; Phu sucking on them like a man parched is but the icing on the cake), but!-
His throat is where Phu produces those addictive moans that Cir just can’t get enough of. Maybe that’s why he constantly kisses, bites, licks, and in this case places his palm against it- so that in addition to hearing Phu’s moans he can feel them vibrating against his skin. 
Auralism plus, I think I might call it? idk
There’s so much more but my brain is mush by now so, uhm, where was I? 
Ah, yes! The beauty of Boss and Noeul’s nc scenes!
Listennnn these two are so hard working, emotionally intelligent and in sync with their characters and each other, especially in nc scenes - where are the awards for these two???
Nobody can tell me ever again that scenes like these can’t hold merit or artistic value.
Fuck that!
Yes, some works may have the audacity to call dry humping with no emotional depth a love scene. But then there’s Boss and Noeul, telling their story by acting out the most delicate details with almost atom level precision and some people call it porn (derogatory) ?🤯
Like so many things in life, sex has the potential to be beautiful and joyful and fucking hell, I see the beauty in this and I enjoy the fuck outta this. Art is supposed to make you feel things, right?
This makes me feel things! Many! (And yes, being horny is among those feelings and that is okay)
Anyway, love is beautiful and deserves to be portrayed in all its depth and variety, Happy Pride!!! 🌈
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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago
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Does hubby and his wife have rougher sex sometimes? I saw you wrote a post where you thought about him spanking her 🙊🙈
Rough (Drabble)
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This is just a little treat because I love getting smutty anons. The monkey emojis really made me do it. As always, thank you to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta’ing. Absolute queen 🫡💖
Summary: PWP. It is what it is!
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: husband!javier loves his wife, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, doggy style, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, spanking, light choking, sprinkled with breeding kink, sprinkled with some love and devotion
Word count: 800
Rough
Javier has you on your hands and knees. The house is empty except for you, all doors and windows closed to allow what you are doing to reach a volume that would concern your neighbors if they heard.
“Put your hands on the headboard,” he commands as he fucks you and you immediately grab it so harshly that your knuckles start to hurt. However, you are too caught up in the way pleasure shoots through your system like tiny electric currents to notice.
“Who’s a good girl?” He asks and lets his palm come down on your ass and your moan is pathetic. The lingering sting makes you clamp down on his cock, causing a low growl to spill from his mouth in the midst of his strained panting. He goes impossibly rougher and sends you flying forward until you have to cross your arms in front of you, rest them on the headboard, and lay your forehead against them if you don’t want to bang into the wall.
“Me,” you whisper, trying to concentrate on your rapidly approaching orgasm. His cockhead is grinding against your g-spot with each thrust, and it feels so good that you cannot keep sounds from pouring from your lips. Your heart beats fast, your face is hot and you can feel sweat run down your spine as you share body heat with him.
“Say it louder, Princesa (princess),” he groans and smacks your ass again, “C’mon now, let me hear it.”
“It’s me,” you let him know in a higher-pitched voice. He makes a sound of approval but you keep begging for him to make you finish, “Please, baby.”
“And who did a good job tonight?” He continues his questions with a shakier voice. You try to imagine the way his forehead creases slightly when he is focused, and the mental image makes your clit jump.
“Me!” You try to grind back into him, “Oh God, I’m—“
“M-hm, baby. You’re my sweet, good girl,” his breath hitches in his throat when you start to flutter around him, signaling that your pleasure is just around the corner. He pounds your g-spot, “And who gets to come on my cock?”
“I do,” you reply without hesitation, and then you peak after those words. As you come with a loud cry of relief, he reaches around you to splay a hand on your chest and lifts you up until your back is against his chest. You moan feebly as you still feel the warm waves of pleasure pulsating between your legs, but the sound dies in your throat as his broad hand reaches upwards to grip around your neck. He holds you in place, the other hand going down to your cunt to stroke your clit until you cannot think anymore. It hurts so good to be forced to come again, and Javier drives into your sensitive cunt with newfound energy, desperate for his own release.
“Te quiero (I love you), I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant, baby, mi chica sucia (my dirty girl),” he bites at the spot behind your ear, squeezing around your throat. It is the sound of you choking on a moan as you come again that sends him over the edge, your walls pulling him further in and fucking the come from his cock. He groans and settles inside of you whilst he spills his load, giving you enough to make it drip down the sides of your abused hole whilst he is still nestled inside of you.
He slumps and holds your body close, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. When you think it’s over, he thrusts one last time to push his seed as far inside of your cunt as possible before he might go soft. You sound like you might cry.
“Shh,” he soothes, “I’m taking care of you. No crying, mi amor (my love).”
“I love you too,” you finally reply.
“Lo sé (I know),” he kisses your back gently, moans when he slips out of you, “I’m gonna move, let yourself move with me.”
You nod with a whimper. He lets the both of you fall to the side and hugs you around the middle in this new position. You close your eyes, relishing in the way it feels like his cock has molded you forever, and sigh with deep satisfaction.
“Más (more),” you say softly, “Quiero más (I want more).”
“Bebita (little baby),” there is a hint of something condescending in his voice. You whine but he soothes you by reaching down to cup your whole mound, easing two fingers into you until you mewl, “You can have whatever you want.”
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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ceterisparibus116 · 4 months ago
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More detailed thoughts:
N, M, & P (plus Kirsten!) had adorable dialogue and I was so happy just watching them all together.
Opening fight scene didn't feel very real; the hits didn't seem to land despite Matt getting stabbed multiple times.
Yep. That Thing happened.
Matt giving a victim impact statement. Oh my gosh. Matt, a defense attorney, giving a victim impact statement and asking for the judge to sentence Dex to the fullest extent of the law.
Seriously I cannot overstate the power of that. Matt, who is devoted to the belief in redemption even for people who have done horrible things, having to sit in the chair (perhaps the same chair in which victims have sat while he cross-examined them) and testify about what it's like to be one of the people to whom a horrible thing has been done.
Matt's reaction when the judge sentenced Dex to multiple life sentences. Consecutive. CONSECUTIVE.
Matt and Karen. Oh, that was heartbreaking. But I get it. He abandoned her, then she abandoned him. And it's awful but it's real. And whenever one of them tries to reach out, the other has their walls up. It was painful. But it felt so real.
All the Fisk stuff. It's not the most gripping thing in the world, but I don't mind. The OG show took time to lay the foundation for Fisk's rise(s) to power, and that paid off. I'm optimistic here.
Kirsten! Kirsten my ABSOLUTE BELOVED.
That said, I think my new favorite character is The Investigator. He's so like the investigator in my office. I'm like Matt, constantly going: "I have to pursue this case! I know I'll probably lose, but I have to try! It's the Right Thing To Do! ... ... ... Btw could you please miraculously find this witness for me, please?" and then my Investigator grumbles but he always manages to pull it off.
Heather is so sweet and happy and smart and she makes Matt laugh and it's gonna hurt so badly when things go wrong for the two of them.
Also it's funny bc I've been shipping Matt with therapy for forever and now...well...
White Tiger! White Tiger! White Tiger!
PARALLELS. White Tiger and his wife, Matt and Heather, Fisk and Vanessa...THE PARALLELS.
THE 404b AND 403 ANALYSES IN THE MOTION IN LIMINE OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY -
Matt standing outside the church and just...just...longing? Be still, my heart.
The portrayal of law enforcement was fascinating. You have the corruption, but you also have characters like the commissioner who is standing up to Fisk. Is he standing up to Fisk only because Fisk killed cops, or because it's the right thing to do?
Matt like "Please, don't do this, please, don't do this" when he knows he's going to beat the corrupt cops up and he genuinely doesn't want to but then they push him and the switch gets flipped and aaaaaaaah. Now that felt like a real fight scene.
We are so back.
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mytheoristavenue · 1 year ago
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MHA Eijrio Kirishima x Reader - Heart Can't Take It
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Summary: You and Kirishima finally make up after a big fight.
Warning: Slight angst, fluff, make out, implied sex, tooth rotting sweet stuff
You've both giving one another the silent treatment for over a week now, even electing to be assigned new patrol partners at work. Was this the end of your relationship? Over a silly argument that, looking back, neither of you could even remember the reason for? He couldn't let that happen.
That's why he now stood at your door, still in his costume, hot off the clock. You both stated at eachother, almost forgetting that either of were ever angry, but he put his boot over the threshold anyways, just in case you decided to slam the door in his face. "Can we talk?"
Now you both stood in the living room of your apartment, feeling as if you were back in high-school with childish crushes on one another. "I miss you, babe." He finally admits stepping towards you.
"I miss you too," you repeat his sentiments, also stepping forward.
"'Fore we talk, can I have a kiss?" He asks, sheepishly, hoping a sign of affection will break the ice. You nod, cheeks burning and wait expectantly for a peck on the lips. Leaning down, his hands cup your cheeks and he plants the first kiss he'd given away in almost two full weeks onto your waiting lips.
Except, he forgot to pull away. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, taking his lips away just enough to move them before pecking again. "For bein' so stubborn." Another peck. "Shoulda come talk to you," And another. "Sooner..."
You couldn't keep the relieved tears from spilling down your cheeks back as you fell into the same pattern. "No, I'm sorry," you argued weakly in between kisses. "Shouldn't have yelled at you," You pressed another desperate hiss to his lips. "Like that..."
In such little time, you were both on your couch, sweetly making out, whispering sorrowful apologizes into one another's mouths. "Can't even remember," he pants licking away a strand of saliva from his lip. "What we...we're fighting about,"
"Me neither," you confessed, brushing your lips over his. "Whatever it was, it wasn't worth being away from you..."
"Agreed," he smiled, melting a bit at your expression. "Thought I was gonna die this week, can't stand bein' away from my baby."
"Me too," you lamented, hanging off his neck with an exhausted sigh. "Don't ever leave mee again, Eiji..."
"Wouldn't dream of it, babe." He replied with a grin cracking across his face, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. "Let's never fight again, 'kay?"
"'Kay," you agreed with a small giggle which became all the sweeter when you felt him begin to lift you off the couch.
"Now, how's about we make up for lost time, huh?" He asked playfully, cradling you in his arms as he stood. "Think skipping workouts, ordering in, and spending the rest of the day is in order."
Before you can say yes, he's already peppering kisses up and down your neck and carrying you off to the bedroom. "Missed you so much, baby," he murmured, laying you down at the foot of the bed. "Never wanna go another day without kissing this pretty face," To punctuate the statement, he presses a loving, longing, passionate kiss to your swollen lips. "Please don't ever make me, my heart can't take it!"
And then, through relieved sighs, and appreciative touches, you promise one another to never repeat the same mistakes twice. A senual and solum vow to remember your time as apart as a cautionary tale as to the consequences of miscommunication. Needless to say, you did bicker a few times after that, but there was never another time you both didn't immediately make moves to reconcile. Your pride wasn't worth going a second without being absolutely devoted and obsessed with one another.
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charlie-shmarlie · 2 months ago
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Cuddling with him: Thor Odinson headcanons
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Some fluffy headcanons of cuddling with our favorite himbo <3
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff
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Thor's the big spoon. No arguments.
Yeah, he has this thing about feeling like he's protecting you (even if you're in no danger whatsoever) and he "can't do that" if he's the little spoon so- tough luck.
This man adores you wholly and completely. He believes you to be more beautiful than all of the ancient goddesses combined, so you can bet he's gonna want to face you when cuddling.
He'll wrap one arm around your waist to hold you close, but use the other to trace and study your every feature with a big, dumb grin on his face.
Touching your face, your hair, your neck, your arms, sides, hands, you name it.
Whispering words of devotion all the while.
"My heart, you can bring a god to his knees. I am a fool in the eyes of my enemies, and yet I thrive in every scoff thrown my way because I know that my foolishness is all for you, my only weakness. You shine brighter than that of a thousand suns, and I would lay down my dignity just so that I might be able to bask in your warmth, even if only for mere minutes."
Honestly, he just loves to yammer.
He will talk and talk and talk and not stop unless you specifically tell him to. Seriously, he *never* runs out of things to say. Not when he's with you.
Your neck is gonna get sore cause he's constantly tilting your head up so he can either just look at you straight on, or give you soft, tender kisses all over your face.
His hand in your hair, gently massaging your scalp 🫠
Thor is clingy asf so:
1. You're not getting up. End of story.
2. If he needs to get up, you're coming with him, tossed over his shoulder.
Thor's a big fan of just laying on you, too. Which is unfortunate for you, due to how massive this guy is. I'm not joking. If you're laying in bed, and he suddenly requires attention, he might just walk up and then plop down on top of you. Crushing you into oblivion but also gaining a rather nice pillow in the process.
Purposefully stays there sometimes just to be a jerk.
"OhmyGod- get off me, fatass!"
"No ♡"
He doesn't typically fall asleep while cuddling with you unless it's nighttime, but even then, more times than not, he'll likely just stay awake and watch over you as you slowly drift off. Feeling the need to make sure you sleep well without any dangers or disturbances.
Takes great comfort in your presence. There's absolutely nothing that can calm him down quite like a good cuddle session with you, where he can just spill out all of his frustrations, knowing you're there to listen and anchor him.
Nuzzling his face into your neck teehee
His beard is scratchy tho </3
He doesn't admit it, but he LOVES it when you play with his hair. So please, go for it. Braid his strands while you're laying there, he'll eat that right up.
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darylsfavoritegirl · 1 year ago
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It's very awkward to post after so long. This is not proofread so it probably has a lot of mistakes I'll edit after posting lol I just wanna put something out here. This has been on my drafts forever. There'll be a part 2!! (hopefully). I got me some ideas for this type of plot!!
Summary: Right after losing the prison, y/n loses her way and stumbles upon that jerky group daryl had to deal with. They unite and all.
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Your hand went out to the unyielding fingers covering your mouth as you breathed harshly through your nose.
The guy behind you yanked your arm to your back, forcing you to stay still. There you were, trapped among a couple of men and even with Daryl, they outnumbered you.
Your heart's beating made you lightheaded. You were already hungry and the pit in your stomach grew more obstinate.
"Easy, Len." The chubby one shouted lightly with a half-grin tugged on the curls of his lips.
"Joe'll want her nice and neat." He leered through you with half-lidded eyes as if a starved bear. His body reeked with eagerness that turned your stomach upside down.
A minute passed as his men started looking around bewilderedly.
Your heart skipped a beat. He was leading them to your camp with Daryl. You shut your eyes screwed as Len's enthusiastic breathing tickled the back of your neck.
"Been watchin' this bitch. She's got a boyfriend somewhere 'round here."
Your eyes burned as he kept sniggering behind your ear. His pitiful friends started to laugh your ears off alongside him.
You yelped against his palm pressing harshly against your lips as you shook your arms, trying to free yourself.
"Oh, oh easy attagirl." He came close near your neck, whispering into your ear.
"Shut that little mouth for your sweetheart's dear life."
A tear slided down your cheek onto his knuckles. It was out of pure rage and how you couldn't do a thing about it.
"Seeing how she resisted us... Joe will want someone like her." Another man uttered as questions pondered your head. Who was this man?
"Yeah yeah yeah."
You could feel Len shaking his head in a fancy way as if mocking.
"But first, we'll have our fun.. am I right gentlemen?" He chuckled behind your ear as your vision darkened.
Your vein on your neck throbbed against your ear as their rigid laughs filled the air before they all turned around harshly.
Len forced you around aswell, and there he was, Daryl, his crossbow looking directly into Len's forehead as he spoke in a commanding voice. They could outnumber him, outpower him yet he was the one with his lethal weapon, catching them off guard.
"If ya lay hands on 'er, consider yerself a dead man."
Your eyes followed the chickened-out Len who-was-yet trying to stand his post like a devoted soldier. After all, he had the numbers.
"If you are a smart man, you'd drop that crossbow of yours to the ground." He demanded, his eyes peeking along his men as if seeking verbal support.
"We got your girl, don't we?" He forced a chuckle.
"Nah. Handling a whole bunch o' pricks ain't never been trouble." He whispered under his breath, not taking his eyes off of the man holding you hostage.
"You've got some balls, I'll give you that."
His mockery grew denser as Daryl was not acknowledging your presence yet your gaze never left his face and his firm stance.
"But see, you ain't gonna win this. You'd be-"
All of your heads turned to the sound of someone clicking their tongue in the middle of the woods behind some bush.
There appeared a man looking in his middle or late 50s with distinctive features bearing his face. You heard one of the men softly huff "Joe.." as you exchanged glances back and forth.
"That ain't very nice now is it Len?" He inquired, not masking his letdown filled with an uncanny stare.
"We- we were bringing these two right to you." He stuttered, you felt his grip loosening on your back. You heard his chapped lips forcing a smile, a smile without the eyes.
"Then why the hell that fella over there holding his crossbow at your skull point?" He smiled, trying to look inviting to you, nonetheless you wouldn't buy it.
"Got his baby-doll over here." He chuckled, putting on a confident manner.
The man they called Joe, smiled.
"Son o'va bitch is a chatter." Daryl said. You turned your head to him for a brief moment as he kept pogging Len with his dark-eyed stare.
"Let go of her." He shook his fingers at the two of you as you felt him letting go completely.
You massaged your wrists as you gazed at Daryl through your brows. If you were alone, you'd just bolt as fast as you could, only you weren't and you had no weapons whatsoever.
Joe came closer to him, only leaving a distance with the crossbow between them.
"You ain't very friendly." Joe expressed and yet again you felt that ear-offing, jambering on tone in his voice.
Daryl stayed silent, his solid gaze never left Joe's. Joe was inches away from death, even so, he kept making senseless, unnecessary comments.
"Well, can he talk?" He asked his men, chuckling at his own statement.
"Wer' leavin' " Daryl grunted as he didn't move or lower his crossbow.
Joe looked bewildered.
"Trust me, some of us are more hospitable."
Daryl finally lowered his crossbow.
"That ain't appealing ta me."
"Wer' goin' " He took a step ahead, Joe placing his arms on his ribs to stop him. Daryl initially glared down at his forearm then to his eyes, giving him a penetrating stare.
"No need for any o'us ta get hurt." Daryl glared at him obstinately
"See, that's right. So why don't you come with us? You don't seem like you got a group out there." He held out his hands extravangtly. He, then turned to you, his eyes sizing you up.
"Why don't you put some sense into your boyfriend over there?" He asked you as you sharpened your stare, then gaze at Daryl.
"I mean, trust me. You don't wanna die out there all alone." He chuckled loudly, vibrating the leaves and bushes all around you.
You stood there, mulling over your odds out there. It was just the two of you, plus both of you had no idea if any of your friends were even alive.
A part of you wanted to be part of someting greater. Safe to say, your prospects of surviving even with a gang like that were more favorable than it was with you two only.
The other part of you felt like you didn't have much of a say in this. Consequently this Joe guy was only asking you out of the little-to+none courtesy he persuaded he had in himself.
You'd spent your life with men like him. It was either with physical force or the presumed kindness and the virtue. Daryl had thought the same all along, you saw the little sparkles fade in his eyes when you looked up. This was the new world order.
Joe must've seen both of your features soothen that he clapped his hands dramatically and made a "Ha" sound.
You'd walked a few hours, exchanging secret glances with Daryl.
When you'd taken a break after walking for hours at an abandoned gas station was when Daryl embraced his arms all around you without saying a word as you were trying to figure at how to shatter a vending machine glass.
You were kneeling down, your palm was pressing your forehead as if trying to remember something long forgotten as your eyes were screwed shut.
It was like you'd totally forgot his presence, bearing you from walkers or more to say -something you both didn't wanna admit or had the heart to say it to eachother- bearing you from the gang of rural vigilantes you happened to join.
For a second, he knelt besides you, his crossbow still at hand with a brawny grip when you felt his arms go around you, followed by you getting up reflexively.
For a moment, you froze. Your eyes were stuck on a walker lurking around feets away you. Your hands stayed put, this had never happened before.
Then your heart melted into his. You noticed his heart beat going faster against your chest. You gulped, which made an out of the blue sound and you hoped he didn't notice. He didn't.
Then one of your arms started embracing his neck slowly while the other went over the back of his shoulders. You were sure you didn't go tighter with your hugging yet did it feel like you were suffocating him with your clutch.
His head fell to the crook of your neck, breathing lightly against your bare skin that goosebumps started swell.
" 'M jus' glad yer alright."
He, then broke the embrace, however your arms were still around his neck. You gazed deep into his eyes, aspiring to see something you'd never seen in those heavy, forever serious eyes.
"I'm fine, and you?" You tilted your head forward and gave him a begging stare through your lashes.
He let go of your waist and nod his head in agreement as he kept biting his bottom lip and eyeing you up and down.
You knelt down again, trying to look occupied incase any of them popped up infront of you.
Daryl was still standing, when you lifted your gaze to check him out was the time you were blinded with the sunny sun shine and his face wasn't visible. Too shadowed, too dark.
"What's wrong?" You asked as you kept working on the vending machine with an adjustable wrench.
He started speaking as if he was contemplating all along.
"If things go south, ya be the first one ta run off."
You furrowed your brows as you turned your head to his direction. There was the dazzling sunlight again, hence you shielded your eyes with your hands.
"And let them skin you alive?" You inquired. You knew the answer, yet you sensed to speak about it as to put sense into him.
He maintained his silence as you felt your rage run through you. You got up, the tool still in your hand and you squeezed it like you could break metal.
Your eyes cut right through him yet he stayed put.
"Daryl?"
He rested his body weight on one leg and kept staring at you.
"Those assholes kno' damn well how ta get a reaction outta someone." He lowered his eyelids.
"If sumthing goes down, I need ya gone."
"Right up."
"Ya hear me?"
Your eyes scanned him for a while with a wrinkly forehead. You didn't know which words to utter.
"I won't leave you." You said low as your eyes were trapped on the pavement 10 feets away from you.
You heard him letting out a sigh as you followed him with your eyes. You were beyond bewildered.
-End of Part One-
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grandlinedreams · 2 years ago
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your writing is incredibleee, i just stalked your blog 🥺💕 but i didn't see hardly anything for my beautiful best boy, THEREFORE, i'd like to make a request please :)
how would the monster trio/eustass kid/law show their s/o that they love him OR how do they confess ? whichever one interests you more 😁 thank you !!
wlkajdflkj thank-you so much!! but yeah, it's still p new, i've only had this for about a week now!! but absolutely I can do that!!
[Heads up!: mention of animal death in Kid's]
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Luffy ㅡ His love language is all over the place, much like him. But he loves very deeply and intensely ㅡ he's not one to half-ass anything when it comes to his crew, and especially not you.
"Here!" Luffy's voice is coupled with a cupcake being shoved into your line of vision and you reach up to take it, inspecting it. It's a little worse for wear than it undoubtedly started, the frosting lopsided and the wrapper peeling off ㅡ but when you look up, Luffy is beaming. "Sanji made cupcakes so I saved one for you!"
Luffy's love for food is unparalleled, so the idea of him having thought of you and saved food for you makes your heart stutter in your chest. Still, you tear the cupcake in half carefully, offering him the bigger half. "Want to share with me?"
Luffy's grin is brighter than the sun, and you've never loved anything more than you do him at that exact moment. "Sure!"
Zoro ㅡ "Love" in the romantic connotation is something that's still fairly new in his wheelhouse, so you have to take the way he talks to you with a grain of salt. That being said, it doesn't mean that he doesn't love you, because he does.
"Hey." You look up as his shadow falls over you, finding the swordsman staring at you with an unreadable look. "Thought you said you were gonna nap with me."
"I was, but I didn't want to disturb you," you say and he frowns before he reaches for your hand, tugging you to your feet to follow behind him. "Zoro? I didn't mean toㅡ"
"You didn't do anything wrong." He lets go of you in favor of settling in one of his usual napping spots, staring up at you expectantly until you join him. Instead of laying his head in your lap, he adjusts until your head is on his chest and his hand is in your hair, stroking lazily. "Just sleep better when you're around, that's all."
Sanji ㅡ At first glance, Sanji loves loudly and he loves freely. He's a flirt, everyone knows that when he can't resist giving love-struck looks to anyone who tickles his fancy.
But when he truly loves, he loves quietly and fiercely.
"You don't have to help with the dishes," he argues as you dunk your hands into the soapy water, frowning when you pretend not to hear him.
"I want to," you say after a moment. "It gets done faster if we both do it, and I don't mind if it means we get to spend time together."
Sanji stares for a long moment before his expression softens, and he moves to stand next to you. You wash and he dries, working in gentle harmony.
Law ㅡ love is not something that comes easy for him. He feels it but does his best not to, telling himself that if he lets things go too far, he's setting himself up for heartbreak and to lose things all over again.
But it's hard to tell himself that when you're sleeping so soundly next to him. Vulnerable in very sense of the term, trusting him to keep you safe. He monitors the tempo of your breathing when he can't sleep, counts your eyelashes, commits every feature to memory.
You curl into him when he moves closer, and his lips press to your forehead. He closes his eyes, making a silent vow that no matter what happens, he'll keep you safe. He can't lose you.
Kid ㅡ like Zoro, love in the romantic intention is new to him and he's a little rougher with it than expectation dictates. He's loud and he's volatile, but he's also fierce in his devotion.
"What are you crying about? Wasn't even yours." He doesn't understand why you're so upset about stumbling upon a dead cat ㅡ but he doesn't laugh or mock you, either.
Instead he lets you feel as you need to, hand encompassing your back to press you into him for comfort. When you're done, he speaks.
"...we can bury it if it makes you feel better." He follows it with a rough threat about what he'll do if you speak a word of this to any of the others on the Victoria Punk, but it's him who places a little flower ring on the cross you make for the cat's grave.
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smallestapplin · 2 years ago
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If only
Cw : obsessed Thoma, reader is Ayato’s spouse, yandere Thoma, listening in to others having sex without them knowing, panty sniffing. Afab!reader gn words. Whore and cockslut are said two times.
Literally no reason for this other than I had a brain worm and just had to get it out.
🔞18+Only please! Mdni it makes me uncomfortable🔞 this work is NOT for anyone under 18.
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When Thoma first met you, he greeted you like a friend and was happy to meet your acquaintance, and happy to serve you. You’d stop by every day to meet with Ayato, but always stop to chat with Thoma.
Those were the best moments of his day.
Your laugh was a melody to him, especially when he got you in tears from how hard you were laughing, or leaning on him cause his joke knocked the air out of you.
How your eyes sparkle when talking about something you love, how your voice picked up with excitement to share with him the information of the topic. How your pretty eyes lit up when he showed you new places or foods to try.
He loved you, he wants you, and his heart can only beat so quickly he feels faint around you. Thoma is always doing and getting everything you ask, you don’t have to say anything else! it’s done.
Maybe his love and devotion to you blinded him to what was happening.
When he heard of your engagement to Ayato he was devastated, but never let it show, he’d get to see you every day from now on, isn’t that great?
He played it off on how happy he was for you, how happy he was to help Ayaka with the planning.
He’d get to see you in traditional wedding attire.
But not for him.
Seeing how happy you were with Ayato chips away at his sanity.
Or seeing how smitten Ayato is with you, how he laments to Thoma how much he wishes to spend more time with you. Thoma hates it, he hates every bit of it, but he bites his tongue, knowing he can’t say anything against the commissioner.
But the upside is he gets to see you every day and he gets to keep you company every day, at least until your husband returns, just the thought is Ayato being your husband makes him sneer.
Thoma can’t help but clench his jaw every time he sees you welcome Ayato home so warmly, hugging him, kissing him as you tell him about your day.
And Ayato listens.
It angers Thoma even more that Ayato is so good to you, he just wishes you’d run into his arms for comfort to cry about how cold the hydro user is, just to show you warmth and love.
But you never do.
Only ever wished he wasn’t so busy.
But Thoma smiles through it all, if only so he could see you again.
He hates how he lays awake at night, biting his pillow to muffle his moans just to hear yours.
The thin walls of the estate are both a blessing and a curse.
“P-please! Too much too much- fuck!”
He can’t stop his hips from humping the mattress below him. Thoma squeezes his eyes shut, if he tries hard enough he can imagine it’s him you’re crying for.
He can never hear that bastard who you lay with, which he’s grateful for, as the only one Thoma wants to hear is you.
You sound so wrecked.
A loud smack snaps him from his thoughts, paired with your loud squeal.
“Fuck me, fuck me, oh by the archons- Ah! Gonna, gonna break!”
Thoma’s eyes cross at the sound, so pretty, so perfect, you sound better than he ever imagined! Damn it, he’s going to cum soon. He clings to the pillow with one hand, while the other strokes his cock in time with his rutting, covering his dick in his pre as he teases the tip.
He can’t he needs to hold it, he needs to cum with you, to be closer to you. The wet slapping only grows more frantic as your cries rise in pitch, each shriek going right to his cock.
‘Please cum, please cum- M’cumming, please!’
It’s as if his prayers were answered but the loud sob that leaves you, though he coats his bedding in his sees, he can’t help but feel pissed at the notice of your sounds being muffled.
“Shhh, quiet down my love, don’t want the whole estate knowing you’re my good little whore.”
Thoma nearly rips his pillow.
How dare that- his rage is silenced by your soft whimper.
Did you like that? How could someone so pure like to be degraded? You’re nothing short of perfection, a deity amongst them, blessing them with your presence, and you allow a man lower than you to call you as such?
He’s shocked.
But he can’t lie, his dick throbs at the revelation.
He wonders if you’d let him call you that, oh he’d beg you to be his cockslut, he’d grovel if he had to just to call you his needy whore.
The blonde tries not to whine, as he realizes just how badly he wants that how badly he wants you.
Would you ride him? Ride his face? Drown him in your slick?
He tries to be normal the next morning, but his fire burns bright at the sight of your neck littered in so many bite marks. It should be him laying with you at night, it should be his mark you’re wearing!
He angrily does laundry until he comes across your basket.
You usually help him with laundry, so you do your and Ayato’s clothes while chatting with him. But you’re not here right now, off running some other errands for a surprise for your precious husband.
He doesn’t even hesitate rooting through your clothes, finding the treasure he’s desperate for.
A pair of your dirty underwear.
He presses the fabric to his nose, balling it up as he takes a long deep inhale. his eyes roll back, his body shakes and his hips buck forward.
“Fuuuuck…” he’s already panting, his cock already throbbing but he pays it no mind.
It still has a wet spot, he doesn’t even think about how it got there or what turned you on while you were wearing this, all he knows is it’s a free appetizer.
Shakily he presses his tongue against the sodden fabric, he can’t stop the moan that escapes him.
How can Ayato sit there and refuse you, when you taste this good? Work be damned.
Thoma whimpers stuffing the fabric against his nose again, unbuttoning his pants as he takes deep whiffs of your intoxicating scent. He can’t stop himself, stroking his already hard cock while he imagines you on his face, using him however you liked.
He’s made for your pleasure, he wants you to use him like it.
He’ll happily and without question go down on you, fuck you, be used by you whenever you want, just please!
Before he could cum he hears footsteps getting closer. Panicking, Thoma tosses the panties back into the hamper and swiftly fixes himself, getting right back to work as if he wasn’t just fisting his dick at the thought of you.
“Oh, Thoma. Do you need some help?”
His jade eyes meet yours.
Your smile is so radiant.
He matches your warm smile.
“You don’t have to, it’s my job after all! But I know you won’t take that answer, so your company would be delightful to have.”
You stand perfectly next to him, helping him wash clothes and separate piles into who’s who’s.
“You know, you don’t have to lower yourself to servant work.”
“I know, but I like helping and I like spending time with you.”
His breathing stops for a moment, his heart racing at your words.
“Aw thank you my liege! It means the world to me that you’re so fond of me.”
Now if only you could be his.
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