#also I know I said he slicked his hair back but I don’t want to draw him like that

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 1: Want More?

Photo credit: Pinterest

Summary: Carmy needs to make his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) feel good after she has a grueling day at work. (1043 Words) SMUT.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, finger sucking, dword use, Soft Dom!Carmy.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: Snowstorm

I remember a conversation happening at Noma that went a little something like this: what is your favorite time and place to have sex?

I, of course, didn’t participate, being a socially terrified barely-adult who had no experiences (yet) and also too focused on my prep to hold a conversation—though the being focused part held more weight in my decision not to speak up because, and I hope I’ve established this, my connection to food is catastrophic. Talking divides attention. Humans are not built to multi-task; at best, we can flip back and forth between a few tasks in rapid succession, but if you wanted to get good at something—and I mean really good at something; knock people on their ass, smoke those motherfuckers for daring to challenge you—you need to cut out all the noise, bury all the bullshit, and put yourself to work.

So, yeah, I didn’t participate. I don’t even remember what the rest of the conversation was, I’ll be honest, because I tuned it out the moment I heard the question. But it’s been haunting me as of late. Not because I wanted to know what all the other chefs were talking about, but because I might have accidentally found the answer for myself.

Late November, about 10 pm or something. Wind howling against the windows, ice pelting the glass, no car horns, no trains, no people yapping or yelling outside, no noisy neighbors. This soft, gentle quiet that permeated the bone-crushing cold that was my apartment bedroom minus one radiator.

Because landlords are fucking demons.

The only other sounds are of us, of her moans, these saccharine, high-pitched, breathy noises that tumble from her mouth in a dulcet melody, the creaking of the bed, of the ragged breaths I’m dragging past my throat. Her hands are still cold as they rest limp against my abdomen but are warmer than they were when she first tangled them in my hair. She’s helpless, powerless, vulnerable; has forfeited her entire being to me. I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m mentally drained; do what you want to me, Carmy.

Do what I want? What I want is for you to feel like you’re in heaven, my love. I want to hear you whine in my ear about how good it feels, how full you are, how you don’t want me to stop. I want you to arch your back just. Like. That. And flutter around me with another mind-numbing orgasm, babble my name like it’s a prayer.

“Is that good, pretty girl?” I murmured in her ear. “Want more?”

I already knew the answer.

Didn’t mean hearing it wasn’t spine-tingling.

“Please, Carmy.” She weakly hiked her leg higher up my side.

“Please, what, princess?”

Did I understand what she meant? Yes. Even without her saying it, her leg tightening around me, the shadow of her larynx as she swallowed and fought for words, it told me everything I needed to know. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy making a mess of her. I love listening to her stumble over and give up on her words because she feels too good to corral them into a coherent sentence. Makes me feel powerful. In control. Fuck, I needed to feel like I was in control because everything else in my life was spiraling out of control.

“M-more… Harder…”

I hooked my hand under her knee and brought it up, fucking her even deeper. She arched her spine, threw her head back, swore.

“Like that?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes, just like that… Don’t stop…”

 She dragged her fingernails up my torso, dug them into my chest. She was so tight, so hot, so slick; I was fucking delirious. The only thing more important to me than my high was hers. I needed to hear her fall apart again. Come on, princess, show me how pretty you are when you come apart.

“Gimme another one, huh, pretty girl?”

Her coherence went two orgasms ago. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck… yes, sir… fuck, that’s so good… Please… please…” She didn’t even know what she was begging for at that point. It was just babbling. Her beautiful, complex, multi-faceted mind, forever going 7 directions at once, synthesizing information from everything and everyone, solving life’s most complex problems—off. Quiet. Empty Like the city outside, buried under 12 inches of snow. And the night was still young.

“Daddy, please…”

Daddy?

“Please, what, princess?”

She called me daddy?

“W-wanna cum…”

Fuck, I could get used to being called that.

I brought my hand down between us and rubbed her clit. She arched her back and whined my name. That’s it, pretty girl. That’s really fucking good, isn’t it? That’s exactly what my baby girl needed after such a rough day at work, huh? Needed Daddy’s dick filling you up and making you forget everything you were so stressed about.

She clamped a hand around my wrist, the one that was holding her leg, and dragged it up so she could close her lips around my thumb. She sucked, pressing her tongue against the pad, and despite my dulled sensations, it was fucking disastrous how fucking good that felt. It was a stunning sight—her eyes closed, cheeks reddened, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead, her plush lips around my thumb because she just needed a sensation in her mouth.

I could burn it into my memory if it wasn’t for how fucking close to coming apart I was. I didn’t have words. The heat in the pit of my stomach roared into an inferno, sent a wave of blistering warmth up my abdomen and my chest. Fuck, she was going to ruin me by being like this, and I wanted every bit of it. Please, keep being so needy. Please, call me Daddy again, beg me for more, whine my name, lose your words, suck on my thumb because all other sensibilities have escaped. You know I am for you; I want you to feel so good that you can’t think anymore. I need you to feel so good that you can barely breathe.

She pried her eyes open to meet mine.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” I whispered.

Late evening. Middle of a snowstorm. That’s my answer.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

[simpstantruther]

“Easy there, sweetheart. Watch where you throw that thing. Can’t afford to replace the window again.”

Scene from chapter two of my Stan x Reader fic Hungry Heart on ao3 :3

Being self indulgent again! Except for like… a whole weekend when I should have been writing the next chapter!! I just got too excited about my backgrounds and wanted to keep going after putting some sketches into procreate. Uncensored canon reader under the cut!!

[mommynott]

Thin Ice

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Your friends drag you to a hockey game, but halfway through you lock eyes with Theo. You can’t help but feel a strong pull toward him. Deciding to shoot your shot with the player.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, Hockey AU, flirting, tons of tension, explicit language, hockey!theo, dom!theo

A/N: Starting this series for my babe @amiableness I hope you enjoy it because this is just the start! Also BIG shoutout to my girl @westcanaan82 for the hockey!theo render. Definitely go Check out her page because she makes me DROOOOL

The arena was packed, and the noise was overwhelming as you sat in your seat, begrudgingly dragged there by your friends. You were scrolling through your phone, totally uninterested in the game unfolding before you.

But then… it seemed out of nowhere. A tall and muscular figure on the ice caught your attention. Fuck he’s hot. It was player number 13, Theo, whose piercing eyes were fixed on you through his helmet.

You felt a smirk growing on your lips before he nodded his head up at you and skated along the ice. Shuffling a puck with his hockey stick with ease. The game going on. Fuck maybe this game isn’t too boring. You held your phone in your hand but your gaze settled on him on the ice. Suddenly gaining an interest in this sport.

After he shot a puck into the goal he pumped his fist in the air but you swore he looked over at you. Throwing you a flirty wink. And trust me, he fucking did. At this point, Theodore was trying to show off for you. Hoping he would get your attention. Craving your attention.

The game ended, and his team had won the match. But after all the eyefucking you two did you wanted to stay back in hopes to see that same player. “I’ll catch up with you guys later!” Your friends gave you a knowing look while they walked out. You slowly moved around the now quiet arena.

A few minutes later, you started to feel defeated, thinking he must’ve left but that’s when you heard a low and deep Italian accent. “I noticed you in the crowd…Seemed to be pretty glued to that phone of yours.”

Bright cherry red painted across your cheeks as you turned around. Quickly tucking your phone away in your purse, you gave the hockey player a small sheepish smile. “Uh…Yeah, sorry…It’s just not really my thing I guess.”

But when your gaze settled upon the player, he wasn’t in the same gear from on the ice. Oh no. he was now in a tight under-armor top, showing off his muscular and toned torso along with a pair of black sweatpants. Freshly out of the shower, his brown locks clung to his forehead. The smell of his body wash was rich and intoxicating as it wafted all around you. Fuck me.

“Not your thing, huh? What is your thing then?”

Theo asked, his taunting tone hinting with flirtatiousness. Feeling the way your heart skipped from his words. His deep voice. Fucking hell. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers anxiously playing with the rings you wore. “I don’t know…Reading…Movies.”

Replying to the Italian, he ran a hand through his wavy hair, slicking it back and giving you a charming smile. “A reader. Interesting….” Theodore said in the same teasing tone before sticking out his hand and you matched him, giving your own and shaking it. The second your hands met, a spark pulsated through your body.

“Nott. Theodore Nott. But you can call me Theo, Cara.”

The charming accent rolled off his tongue smoothly as you both exchanged names. You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. Bringing your confidence out. Something you always had. “Anyways…What’s interesting about me reading?” You asked, giving him a bratty little grin.

Theo cocked an eyebrow, scoffing under his breath as he took a step before you. Eyeing you up and down fully. “Ah, I’m not sure. Just interesting…What do you like to read?” He questioned as he casually leaned closer toward you.

You tried to focus but his voice, his words were so smooth it sent little shivers down your spine. "Umm… mostly romance— Stuff like that." You mentally chastised yourself for sounding so fucking cliche. He seemed very interested in you…Maybe even so much so that you could get some hockey player action.

Theo gave you a lazy smile and your heart fluttered, feeling the tension building between you both. "Romance, huh? That’s fitting." You raised an eyebrow, confused. What the fuck was he on about? “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, leaning even closer towards you. “You look like the romantic type….Soft…sweet— Y’know?.” Your cheeks burned again. Was he flirting with you? This couldn’t possibly be real. This was something out of the novels you’d read.

“Oh— Thanks I guess?” A sea of giggles freed from your lush lips. The same ones Theo’s eyes were burning into now. He stalked toward you as you walked back until you were pinned against the white brick wall of the ice rink.

He carefully took a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his pointer finger while his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “Can I get the pretty girl's number, hm?” He asked, remaining not only charming but… cocky. Drawing you to him even more.

It seemed that your confidence exuded his own to creep out. But fuck did you like it. A confident man like this? Damn. “Huh…I’m not sure. Can you?” Teasing him right back you subtly bit your lower lip to fight back the giggles that wanted to escape from within.

“Fuckin’ tease. Isn’t that right?”

Theodore now pinned both of his hands above your head, practically towering over your tiny frame. “Perhaps just a little bit…” Breathing out your words, your gaze danced along with his ocean eyes. Feeling your heart thump hard against your chest.

“I like a tease…A challenge…” His tone now held something of mischief, giving him a different vibe. And fuck, your whole body was fucking feeling it. “Yeah?” You asked, bringing out more of your sultry tone, keeping your lips slightly parted as you glanced down to his own.

That was it. Theo was going to come in hot. Make his move. Smash his lips to yours. But just as he was millimeters away from ravishing you a loud shout was heard. “—Nott! Back in the locker room!” His fucking coach. What a cock block. Theo rolled his eyes and cursed in Italian under his breath.

“We aren’t finished here…” He replied to you lowly, throwing up his pointer finger to his coach. He reached into his pocket. Pulling out a pen and taking your arm. Feeling the tickle of his scribbling, He wrote something on it as you sat there dumbfounded.

Once he was done, you scanned over your forearm. In sloppy handwriting was written his number followed by “Text me, Tesoro ;)” giggling at his little winky face as you nodded your head.

With that, he walked off with his coach to the locker room. That night you got home thinking of everything and anything that could have happened if his damn trainer didn’t interrupt you two. That’s when you decided to send him a flirty yet risky text…

Ahhhh the start of hockey!theo 🏒🥅⛸️

Really hope y’all enjoyed im too excited to continue on with this au! ATP I have so many and STILL have some In the back of my mind help lol

As always asks and requests are open my sweet peas 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[pure-smut]

infatuated.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, size kink, Sukuna has a huge dick (obvs), riding, obsessive behaviour from Sukuna at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1.8k

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Ryomen Sakuna is well-known around campus – big, brutish, the most arrogant man to walk the planet. But if whispers amongst the girls were anything to go by, he’s also a damn good fuck.

It’s why you, fresh off the anti-climactic evaporation of a sub-par situationship that had no right to make you feel as glum as you do, have the sudden desire to fuck Sukuna.

You’re in a club, drowning your sorrows with your friends, when you lock eyes with him across the room. It’s not hard – he’s a head and a half taller than everyone else. But he doesn’t look away. And, you realise, neither do you.

Yeah, he might be a walking red flag. Yeah, you might be bitter and sad over a failed not-relationship. But it’s not like you’re fucking his personality, right? Just one good night. Just one really, really good fuck. Then you can wake up tomorrow, satisfied and ready to move on.

You down your drink and stalk over to him. Time to put those whispers to the test. *

Okay, maybe there’s some truth to the rumours.

One quick drink and a cab ride later, Sukuna has you on his lap, straddling his thighs as you make out on his sofa. He’s so big your legs are basically spread for him already, slotted on either side of his thighs as his hands grope your ass shamelessly.

He didn’t say much to you when you asked him to come home with you. Only a grin played on his lips as he grabbed your hand and said, “No. You’re coming to mine.”

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good kisser though. Your hands card through the pink hair at the nape of his neck as he slides his tongue over yours. Even with you on top of him, you know he’s actually the one in control. He dictates the pace, the speed, everything. Where your previous situationship had demanded that you do all the work, this relinquishing of control feels good. Freeing. You melt into it and into him, pressing your chest against his.

When Sukuna feels you relax, he pushes your dress up past your hips. One large finger hooks onto your panties from behind, pulling them to the side. Without breaking the kiss, he dips his free finger between your folds, checking how wet you are. You gasp at the sudden feel of his calloused finger but Sukuna quickly swallows it. At the feel of your slick arousal, his cock throbs.

“So wet already,” he murmurs, pulling his mouth back only slightly. “Just from kissing?”

Your cheeks burn but you’re distracted by a thick finger prodding your entrance. You gasp lightly and push your hips back, seeking more. Sukuna chuckles.

“I knew you were needy when you threw yourself at me tonight but still…” He grins. “You really do need a good fuck.”

“S-shut up,” you manage to stammer out but Sukuna only laughs.

He withdraws his hand and you have to supress a whine. Instead he undoes his jeans and pulls his cock free. It slaps against your stomach, hard and hot. When you look down at it, your eyes widen. Sukuna smirks – he always loves the look a girl gives him when she sees his cock for the first time.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s so big, you want to say but you don’t want to feed his ego any more than necessary.

“That’s why you’re on top, baby.” Sukuna gives an easy grin. “You probably won’t be able to take it all so just do whatever you can.”

His condescending tone makes you frown. You jut your chin out defiantly. Oh, I’ll take it all, you think to yourself. Smug bastard.

You raise your hips, hovering over his fat mushroom tip. You’re already wet but he hasn’t even fingered you to prep you so you know you need to go slow. But determination courses through you. Sukuna watches you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, as you look down in concentration. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulders as you leverage yourself. The stretch is immense but it’s delicious too – a heady mix of burning pleasure. Sukuna puts his hands behind his head, a self-assured smile on his lips as he watches you. He loves this part – loves watching girls struggle to fit him inside them. It makes his ego swell as much as his cock.

You manage a few inches before you have to stop, sweat already glazing your brow. You reach down to play with your clit, making yourself as wet as possible. Sukuna bites his bottom lip as he watches you play with yourself, a third of his cock buried inside you. You feel him throb and it only spurs you on, your pussy drooling around him, stretching to accommodate him.

“You look pretty fucking hot like this,” Sukuna admits, bringing one hand forward to grope your tit. “You need some help, baby?”

You’re too busy concentrating to speak so you give a short nod. Sukuna tweaks your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in a way that shoots sparks through your whole body. You tip your head back and gasp, feeling yourself tumbling closer to an orgasm. Even though he’s not fully inside you, his cock is managing to rub against your walls in a way that makes your eyes rolls back.

Sukuna has to admit he’s enjoying himself. The sight of you making yourself cum on his cock is pornographic and your pussy is squeezing him so tight. He has to fight to urge not to thrust up. Instead, he roughly plays with your tits, enjoying the way your nipples stiffen under his touch. Your body is so responsive to him, so ready for him. Your gummy walls massage his cock in a way that makes him want to go feral. Every muscle in his body is taut as a bowstring, restraining himself.

You open your eyes to see the hunger in his face, a notch between his brows and his lips slightly parted, eyes intense. A thrill runs up your spine. You want to see him hungrier.

Still rubbing your clit, you lower your hips and sink further onto his cock. This time, you’re able to take a few more inches, your pussy enveloping him tightly. Sukuna can’t stop himself from moaning this time, your plush walls hugging him. His hands drop to your hips, holding them with an iron grip.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”

You’re taking him better than he thought you would. You’re two-thirds down, your lips gripping him as though you don’t want him to leave. Nevertheless, you slowly bob up and down, never fully withdrawing. The sensitive head of his cock rubs a euphoric friction against your walls, making you both moan contentedly. Sukuna half wants to stay like this forever, never leaving the hot, soft grip of your sweet pussy. The other half of him wants to pin you down and make a mess of your insides, painting your pussy white with his cum.

Your fingers pick up speed against your clit. The combination of Sukuna’s girth stretching your hole and your fingers rubbing your sensitive bud are bringing you close to the edge. You’ve nearly taken him all and you know you can do more – you just need to cum first to loosen up.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Sukuna groans, his grip on your hips tightening to stop himself from bucking his hips. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby.”

And so you do. You bounce up and down until your legs cramp, but even then, you ignore it and keep going. You rub tight circles on your clit, the way you know you like, and throw your head back in an silent scream.

“Fuck… fuck!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes through you, curling your toes and arching your back.

Sukuna watches you, his eyes flicking down to your pussy to watch your juices run down his cock. He’s almost painfully hard, teased to the brink of his own orgasm. When girls can’t take him all, he usually waits for them to finish on him before getting them to suck him off, bringing him to a finish in their mouth.

But you…

When you come down from riding your high, there’s a spark of defiance in your eyes. You plant your hands on his shoulders and, locking eyes with him, you sink your hips down until your thighs meet his.

Sukuna’s eyes widen. His breath hitches. He looks down to see you joined together, his cock fully buried inside you.

You’ve taken all of him.

“Fuuucck.” Sukuna groans long and loud, the new sensation of his cock being fully enveloped almost making him cum right then and there.

You grin, a sense of accomplishment spurring you on. Your legs are still sore so you grind against him instead, leaning forward to suck sweet kisses on his neck.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna buries his fingers even deeper into your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. “That feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your pussy is addictive. Sukuna wants to live here like this, fully sheathed inside you as your soft, hot walls milk his cock. He’s never known this sensation before, this delicious heat as your bodies fully connect. Your plush ass nestled against his thighs, your clit rubbing against him as you grind, your lips wrapped around him to the base of his cock. Fuck. You’re incredible, he thinks.

“Cum inside me, Sukuna,” you whimper in his ear.

You don’t need to tell him twice. Sukuna growls animalistically, burying his face in your neck as his cock throbs once. Twice.

You feel him explode inside you, hot, sticky cum coating your walls. You keep grinding until he’s done, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s only when you make to move away, to pull your puffy pussy away from his cock that he hardens his grip on you again.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he captures your lips in a deep kiss. It’s a surprise but a pleasant one – you didn’t take Sukuna for someone who kissed after sex. You make out for a while, his cum leaking out around his softening cock. It’s only when your thighs are slick with both of your juices that you pull away again.

“Thanks, Sukuna.” You smile at him. “I needed that.”

You hop off his lap, satisfied. To you, the plan worked. You’re content and ready to move on from your shitty situationship.

But Sukuna has never cum inside anyone before. Never been able to. Never met anyone who could take all of him. He watches you pad away to the bathroom to clean up, humming happily. You might be going home tonight, content and oblivious, but something dark stirs inside Sukuna. He knows he’s never letting you go.

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[soov]

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the man felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real (work inspired by mr. queen!)

2024 © SOOV

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

+18 mdni: Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

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On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

[gwaynesprincess]

Good Boy

Content: NSFW, face riding, cunnilingus, praise kink, poor self-image, discussions of BDSM etiquette, safewords, handjob

Note: This exists in a modern, alternate universe where Aemond is very submissive. I intend to turn this premise into a collection of loosely related drabbles with little to no plot. Also, thank you to @peachysunrize for encouraging me and for making the GIF that I used! 💚

Aemond fucking loved when you sat on his face. There was something absolutely wonderful about you smothering him with your cunt and using him for your pleasure. He hooked his arms around your legs, pulling you closer, prioritizing eating your pussy over breathing. Above him, you moaned, rocking your hips as his nose ground against your clit deliciously. 

“You’re doing so well,” you gasped, clutching the headboard desperately as your third peak drew closer and closer. “Aemond, you’re so good.” 

He groaned happily, working his tongue inside of you as you praised him. He had always thought that he would never enjoy letting someone else be in control of him in such a vulnerable state, but you always seemed to know exactly what he needed. You were so gentle, so kind to him, that he was afraid that you would leave. How could someone like you want someone like him? He could never understand, but he could try to convince you to stay by committing to making you cum until you physically couldn’t anymore. 

You had made him promise to tell you if he couldn’t breathe, but he was tempted to ignore the lack of oxygen in favor of bringing you pleasure. He wanted you to tell him that he was good, and he wondered if you would do so if he told you that his head was spinning. What if you were upset with him? He could tell that you were getting close, and he didn’t want you to be disappointed in his weakness. However, he remembered the last time that he had tried to keep going. He had almost passed out, much to your horror. While he had been more than alright, he was completely confused why you had been so saddened by his willingness to suffer for your pleasure. You hadn’t told him that he was good, despite him making you cum four times, because you were so concerned for him. But that had been four times, and this would only be your third… 

He whined in panic; he didn’t know what to do, so he desperately tapped on your thigh and tried to pull your cunt closer at the same time. You pulled away from him immediately, searching his face for some kind of hint as to what was wrong. 

Fuck. He was suddenly afraid that he shouldn’t have tapped your leg. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled, trying to pull you back down. “I’ll try again, ‘m sorry. I’ll do better, I’ll fix it.” Gods, what was wrong with him? He should’ve just let you ride his face until he passed out, but he had to go and fuck it up by being pathetic and weak. 

To his horror, you crawled off of him. He froze, fear coursing through him. Were you going to leave him? He needed you to stay and care for him. What did he need to do to make it up to you? Whatever it was, he could take it. 

And then, you did the most surprising thing: you pulled him into your arms and began to caress his hair. “There’s nothing to fix,” you said lightly, gently kissing his temple as you carefully wiped your own slick off of his chin. “You did the right thing by asking me to stop. I’m very proud of you, Aemond.” 

A warm feeling erupted in his chest at your words, one that he didn’t quite know what to call. He was very confused why you were telling him that he did a good job, but he liked the way that you were holding him. He hesitantly nuzzled you, a lovely feeling encasing him when you pulled him closer. He let himself enjoy the sensation for a moment longer, then swallowed hard. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled, loathing himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t get it. I must be stupid.” 

“Oh, Aemond,” you whispered. “No, you’re not. What don’t you understand?” 

He whimpered, squirming until he was able to hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Why are you proud of me?” he asked, his voice small. “I made you stop; I didn’t make you cum again.” 

You gently stroked his hair. “You didn’t need to. This isn’t good for me if you’re hurting. Stopping isn’t bad. You were very good because you let me know that you couldn’t breathe.” 

Aemond felt warmth pool in his stomach when you told him that he was good. He was quite certain that he was being bad now, since you were trying to help him understand and his cock was hardening. “I just want to make you happy,” he said softly. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you murmured, “I will always be happy when I am with you.” Aemond felt a smile threaten to make itself known on his lips at your words. He blushed slightly when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he gasped when you slowly wrapped your hand around his swollen cock. “We will need to talk more about this later,” you told him, “but I wish to pleasure you now. Would you like that?” He nodded vigorously; you shook your head. “Use your words.” 

“Yes,” he blurted. “Please, yes. Stroke my cock, please, I beg you.” 

“Good boy,” you said, slotting your mouth against his own as he whimpered in delight at the praise. 

You began to slowly jerk him off, your grip wonderfully tight. Aemond whined as your thumb circled the swollen head, a shiver running through his body as he hesitantly bucked upwards into your hold. It felt so good, having your warm hand work him towards his end. 

“I wish you could see yourself,” you whispered against his lips; Aemond whimpered. “You look so pretty, fucking my fist.” 

“Please,” he gasped. “Faster, please, I need it faster.” 

You complied with his request, moving your hand rapidly along his length. Your thumb gently traced his sensitive tip, gathering his precum and using it to make his cock slick. He couldn’t believe how good it felt as he rolled his hips faster, his cheeks burning at the wet sound that was proof of the mess he was making in your soft palm. 

“I hope you like your treat,” you said, gently stroking his hair with your fingertips as your other hand worked quickly on his aching prick. “You were so good for me, fucking me with your tongue and making me cum. And you’re so pretty when you let me jerk you off. Are you close?” 

He was embarrassingly close. Aemond could feel the coil in his stomach tightening at your praise. He nodded desperately, then buried his face in your neck. “Yes, I’m close. Please, I’m so close.” He needed you to tell him that he could cum. He was going to go mad if you didn’t give him permission. 

You kissed his forehead. “Good boy. Cum for me, Aemond.” 

He would have been ashamed of the whorish moan he let out, but he was too focused on how good it felt to worry about how he sounded. Spots danced in front of his eye as his entire body tensed, his cock spasming in your palm as he came all over his stomach. You continued to stroke him throughout it all, helping him to ride through his high as he shuddered and whimpered. He needed to feel like this every day for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. You were so good to him, being kind as you used him for your pleasure and rewarding him when he pleased you. 

When his breathing finally slowed several moments later, he realized that he was trembling and clinging to you. Sheepishly, he let go, attempting to move away from you. To his surprise, you gently took his hand in your own, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing gently. “You were such a good boy, Aemond,” you said, smiling as he blushed. He gasped as you brought your cum-stained hand to your lips, sucking his release from your fingers before kissing him. He whimpered as you slid your tongue into his mouth; he could taste his own cum and it was fucking hot. 

When you pulled back a few moments later, Aemond smiled at you, reveling in the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He hesitated for only a brief second before cautiously curling up in your arms, sighing in sleepy contentment as you held on to him. “Thank you,” he mumbled. 

You pulled him closer, keeping him safe as he relaxed in your embrace. “Of course. Rest now, my darling good boy. You deserve it.” 

For the first time in a long while, Aemond was calm as he closed his eye and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

[letstrip13]

🧼 - dirty dishes

summary: needy!matt wants to help you with the dishes

warnings: smutttt, unprotected sex, uhhh i think that's it

word count: 1,506

author's note: this was going to be a blurb but it's actually a fic now because i said so. also i think it's way too long to be a blurb now anyways

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warm sunshine beams through the open blinds of the kitchen window above the sink. warm water is rushing out of the faucet as suds and bubbles start to form around the piles of dishes.

you're standing in front of it, watching and waiting for it to fill up. you had cuddled with matt for a while until he had fallen asleep next to you; the poor boy had been so tired from constant meetings about merch and filming a car video late into the night. chris had went to the warehouse to check the new fresh love samples and nick was in a meeting about the next steps for space camp.

so while everyone was busy, you decided to help the boys out by tidying up the kitchen and living room. the living room was finished, everything back in its place now. the kitchen was almost done, it would be as soon as you did the dishes. you could've just used the dishwasher but unfortunately, it wasn't working right at the moment and needed to be repaired.

now, here you are, standing at the sud-filled sink while using a dish sponge to scrub the plates from last night’s dinner. the sink has two sides so one is soaking with soapy water while the faucet is turned to the other, empty side so you can rinse the dishes off without flooding the sink.

you get into sort of a rhythm, forgetting everything else around you and only focusing on the task at hand. you feel a warm hand slip around your waist and you jump, the sharp knife falling from your grip and clattering in the sink as a yelp escapes your lips. you turn to see your boyfriend with an apologetic smile on his face, running his hand through his hair, still messed up from his nap. all he’s wearing is a pair of blue plaid pajama pants, having removed his shirt due to the heat in his bedroom.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in a husky, still-tired voice. “it’s okay,” you reply with a soft smile before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you notice his eyes rake over your body, taking in the sundress you’re wearing; a pretty pastel green with tie-up straps, little bows resting on your shoulders.

he doesn’t say anything so you turn back around to finish up washing the dishes. “i’m almost done, love. what do you wanna do after?” “hmm i don’t know..” he trails off as his arms snake around your waist. he presses hot kisses to your neck, murmuring in between, “need any help with that?”

your cheeks heat up in a blush as you feel his lips graze the sweet spot on your neck. “i’ve only got like four bowls left. why don't you go get dressed? maybe we can go out and do something.” a sort of whine escapes him and he presses himself closer to you so you can feel his clothed bulge against your ass.

you put down the dish you were holding, not being able to focus on anything other than him. “matt-” “please, need you so bad.” it seemed like his mood had done a full 180, but you weren't entirely complaining. “i’m almost done,” you reassure him.

he starts moving his hips, grinding so slow and subtle that you hardly even notice at first. he reaches a hand up your skirt as he does this, slowly pushing your panties away from your slick folds. his fingers gently tease you, earning a small moan from you. “can't you finish this later? need you now,” he practically begs.

you want to say yes right then and there; the way his finger is slowly circling your clit while not quite touching right on it is enough to make you melt in his arms. but you want to see how bad he really wants this, you love the way he gets needy for you.

since you’d been continuing to wash the dishes throughout this interaction, you were now almost done. matt lets out a whine of impatience as he watches you, still pressing his body against yours. you grind your ass back against his clothed bulge, stifling a smirk as he groans from the contact.

“i can't take it anymore,” he mumbles. but all he does is hold your hip tighter. “well, why don't you do something about it?” you tease, “you've just been standing behind me the whole time, barely doing anything.”

that's all it takes. with a sudden burst of desire, he quickly turns you around to face him and heatedly kisses your lips. he pulls away a few moments later, leaving you with a stunned expression on your face. “not so cocky now, are you, princess?” he lets out a small chuckle. he pushes the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his hands immediately coming up to palm your tits, squeezing them in his hands a little. “are you sure you want to do this right here?” you simply nod but he stares down into your eyes. “words, sweetheart. i wanna hear you say it.” “yes.”

that one word was enough for him and he moves his hands to your hips to spin you around so your back is to him. he reaches up your skirt and pulls your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. you can hear him fumbling with the fabric of his pajama pants. you bend over and pull your skirt up, getting ready for him. suddenly, you remember to turn the tap off just before you feel the tip of his cock as it brushes against your entrance.

you share a moan as he slowly pushes into you, filling you up. luckily, he doesn’t take his sweet time teasing you like usual; you know that chris and nick could come home any minute. almost as if he read your mind, he speaks during his quick yet deep thrusts into you, “gotta make this quick, sweetheart.. don’t want my brothers to see you like this. i’m the only one who can.”

his hands trail from your hips to your tits, holding them in his warm palms as he continues to pound into you from behind. you moan as he hits just the right spot inside of you, like always. it’s not just a filling thing in the physical sense, but in an emotional way too. in the course of your relationship, you and matt have opened up to each other so much. you’ve gotten so comfortable with him that vulnerable situations don’t even feel vulnerable anymore. you just feel full, complete, happy.

his warms lips on your neck bring you back down to earth. there’s that familiar knot forming in your stomach and by the way his thrusts are getting faster and less rhythmic, you can tell he’s feeling the same way. your moans have grown in volume and he’s thrown his head back in pleasure. you tightly grip onto the counter, bracing yourself as that wonderful feeling washes over you. your walls clench around his cock as you cry out his name.

he follows right behind you, spilling his release into you as his movements fade to a slow rut of his hips. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting kisses there as you both recover from your blissful highs.

the sound of a key in the front door quickly jolts the both of you back to reality. he quickly pulls out and tucks his now half-soft dick back into his pants. you rush to pull your underwear back up and pull the straps of your dress back onto your shoulders to cover yourself. you both attempt to fix your messy hair and catch your breath as nick’s laughter echoes as he comes up the stairs.

“hey guys. how’d everything go?” you ask trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, trying to ignore the feeling of matt’s cum slowly seeping out of you and soaking your panties.

nick tells you that the meeting went really well and everything is going great with space camp but chris seems less than thrilled because the fresh love hoodies didn’t turn out quite right. chris suddenly notices that the living room and kitchen look much different than when he left. his gaze falls on you. “did you do all this?”

“yeah, i was up early and thought i’d give you guys one less thing to worry about.” the both of them thank you profusely, saying you didn’t have to. “it’s fine, really. matt helped me.” matt who had remained silent until now coughs and cracks a weak smile, croaking out a soft, “yeah.”

“must’ve been some hard work. you look like you just ran ten laps around the house.” you and matt exchange a look, internally grateful by how absolutely oblivious his brothers could be. “yeah, something like that..” he mumbles as he turns the faucet on to finish those last few utensils and a bowl that you had abandoned.

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requests are: open :) so leave one for a fic or blurb you'd like to see from me

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[munson-blurbs]

How do you think Eddie would react to a fwb reader who uses sex as a distraction from their feelings?? Like, they’ve been having a bad week an their mental state isn’t great but heyyy there’s sex. Reader doesn’t really care about the pleasure part of sex just the distraction. Worried Eddie would feel a little used ngl :P

((Dancy dances away nervously))

I know you started this with "do you think" but my brain said WRITE A BLURB so here we are. Also shoutout @corroded-hellfire for helping me make it cute without being cliche.

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only, minors DNI), friends with benefits, angst/yearning, idiots in love, made it fluffy because I'm a sap

WC: 747

--

You hadn’t thought anything of it the night he’d called you “baby.” He was deep within you, melding his body with yours. Lost in the moment.

Or the night he’d mumbled, “your pussy was made for me” while slamming into you from behind. It was just dirty talk; nothing more and nothing less. 

Maybe you should have been tipped off when he’d growled, “mine,” his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed soft kisses below your earlobe. You’d figured the word, like the sex, was meaningless. 

But tonight’s comment stops you in your tracks. Your legs are wobbling beneath you, exhausted from riding him, as you step back into your pants. 

“Do you wanna, like, cuddle for a sec?”

A giggle escapes from your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. He’s joking; he has to be. The two of you have a perfectly choreographed routine: you have a bad day, you call Eddie, you fuck, and then you leave. And his latest suggestion would definitely interfere with step four. 

When your eyes meet his, you realize that he’s serious. Hurt and confusion at your laughter crease his brows, and he tugs the sheet up a bit higher. 

“Sorry, I, um…” He shakes his head and rubs his face. “Never mind. You probably have to go anyway.”

You’re in no hurry to return home, fresh off of yet another argument with your roommate. That’s why you’d come over to Eddie’s trailer in the first place. And it isn’t as though you’d never thought about being in his strong, tattooed arms. The way he’d hold you flush against him, your cheek on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s something you’d once wanted—craved, even—but you couldn’t let vulnerability infiltrate you like that again. 

You spent high school watching him pine over the cheerleaders. He unwittingly broke your heart over and over with each woman he hooked up with at the Hideout, overlooking you despite your presence at every show. Being friends with benefits is risky enough, and post-sex snuggling will send you teetering over the edge back into the rocky terrain of unrequited love. 

And so you lean into humor as you shrug on your shirt. “I don’t think this friends-with-benefits arrangement includes cuddling.” Keeping your tone light and even, restraining every desire to crawl into bed with him. 

“Right, yeah.” He sighs and offers a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I was thinking—”

“That’s dangerous.”

He flips you off and continues. “I was thinking that maybe we could be more than that. Y’know, maybe we could have sex when you’re happy, too.” 

“I am happy when we have sex,” you counter.

Eddie shakes his head again. “I’m talking about before we do it.” He gnaws on his thumbnail. “It feels like you only want me when you have a bad day. A-And I’m glad I can be here for you and stuff, but sometimes I wonder if I’m a friend or just a good lay.”

You try to look at him when you speak, but he keeps his gaze trained on the ground. “Eddie,” you start, taking a seat next to him. His chest is slick with sweat, the soft hairs matted down. “Eddie, I had the biggest, dumbest crush on you when we were younger. And knowing I couldn’t have you tore me apart.” You let your hand rest on his. “I can’t risk having you and then losing you.”

“Losing me?” Eddie laughs softly and his free palm comes up to cup your cheek. “Look at me. Where am I going?”

“You could find someone new, someone better, someone who—”

He cuts you off with a searing kiss, remnants of your arousal still tinging his lips and tongue. “There’s no one better,” he murmurs. “You see me answering the door at two in the morning for anyone else? Think I’d miss out on precious sleep for them?” 

One arm hooks around you back and pulls you in until you assume the little spoon position. Nimble fingers undo the button of your jeans, slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the way he’d practically torn the denim removing them earlier. 

“‘S that comfier?” He asks through a yawn.

“Mhm.” And it is. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while, at least without him inside you. 

His curls tickle the back of your neck as he nuzzles into you. He staves off sleep long enough to speak one last time. 

“I’m glad you’re staying, baby.”

--

[iconicstoner]

love bites & apologies

gn!reader x jasper hale

words: 1960

summary: when Jasper accidentally leaves marks on y/n’s neck after kissing them, he has to figure out how to make it up to them and their parents.

“Sugar, you are so sweet,” Jasper’s words came out like a husky southern growl, just centimeters away from your face. Slowly, his hands push through your hair as his icy lips move down your neck. He sends a chill down your spine with the feeling of his cold touch, and yet your whole body feels hot with pleasure. Just as Jasper begins to pin you down, his lips still grazing your warm neck, the sound of someone clearing their throat startles both of you. The two of you turn to face the person quickly, and embarrassment adorns your face when you realize who caught you. Jasper releases the firm grip he had on you and raises his eyebrows at the towering lean figure standing in the doorway.

“Y’know, I can hear all your thoughts, and usually that would be helpful, but I don’t want to hear,” Edward pauses to glance between the two of you, “those thoughts.” Your face flushes with embarrassment, and Jasper’s would too, if he was still capable of it.

“I’ll have you know, from the moment you met Bella, I could feel every emotion you felt about her, and that was ten times worse. Do you know how awkward it is to feel lust emitting from the house, just to find out it’s coming from your brother?” A smirk is still etched onto Jasper’s face as he finishes drawing out the words with his charming Southern accent. Edward tenses with embarrassment, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, considering what Jasper knows. Then, as he begins to look back between the couple sprawled out on Jasper's bed, he begins to laugh.

“Why is he doing that?” you ask in a low mumble. Jasper gives Edward a look of confusion, before turning to you. The second he sees you, his face drops, no longer smirking, and he is in utter shock.

“Oh, Emmett is gonna love this,” Edward says between laughs. Before Edward even finished his sentence Emmett was standing at his side with just the mention of his name. When he looked into the room, he burst into laughter too.

“Nice one, Jasper!” Emmett exclaims as he pats Jasper’s shoulder with intense force, almost knocking Jasper, who is in a trance-like state, over. “It’s like you’re all grown up. Quite the cowboy,” He says, sarcastically. Your confusion is palpable to the brothers, but before you can even ask, Edward is pointing a small handheld mirror at you, giving you a great view of your neck. It’s almost entirely purplish-red from all the places Jasper had been kissing you. You let out a gasp that causes all laughter to cease.

“I’d love to help you,” Edward said with a smile, almost as if he was enjoying this moment, “but since Vampires don’t have blood, we don’t have this problem.” As his brothers spoke, Jasper stood to the side, continuing to look down at you with a slight horror at the mistake he made.

“We could try makeup? I know Rosalie has a ton somewhere around here,” Emmett suggests, at least trying to be helpful.

“Going home with pasty white makeup all over your neck is almost more suspicious than just letting people see the hickeys,” Edward said to Emmett playfully. “And also, curfew is in fifteen minutes, so I’d hurry home,” Edward says to you, knowing this will only be worse if you also break your curfew.

Before you’d even had time to think of a plan, Jasper was already ushering you to the car. He raced down the slick asphalt to your house in the silver Jeep. The car was completely silent the whole drive, but Jasper kept a firm grip on your thigh with his right hand. Emmett and Edward were in the back, and as you pull into the driveway, you can only hope your parents won’t kill you.

“Hold on,” Jasper says, his cool hand touches your jaw, and he leans in to give you a soft, cold, longing kiss, “just in case it’s the last time,” he mumbles into your ear as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss.

“They can’t ground me for as long as you're alive,” you remark playfully.

“Yes, but they can ground you for as long as you’re alive,” he says, with a sweet syrupy quality to his voice. His hand slowly and delicately traces down your jaw until it's back in his atmosphere again. You crave to grab his hand or to press his skin against yours for just one last second, but you know you can’t look like this and be late. You climb out of the Jeep, step inside your house, and close the door behind you, but Jasper doesn’t take the Jeep out of park.

“What are we doing, Jasper?” Emmett questions uneasily.

“Jasper wants to know what y/n’s parents are going to feel when they see what happened,” Edward explained, already knowing what Jasper was thinking, which was helpful because Jasper would give anything not to speak right now. No one said anything for a moment, but then Jasper tensed, sitting up a little straighter. Edward slumped back, seeming almost uncomfortable by what was happening. Emmett could tell this meant that your parents had noticed, and things didn’t seem good.

“I can feel their emotions. It’s so strong that I can hardly distort them, at least not from this far.” Jasper paused after the words left his mouth, but he didn’t move. “What are they thinking, Edward?”

“I don’t want to say,” Edward said monotonously. Emmett stiffened, and for someone so hard to miss, he seemed to wash away with the tension of the moment.

“Tell me,” Jasper demanded. The brothers sat very still for a very long time before anyone spoke again. The sound of chirping crickets filled their ears, and the stars shined down on them. However, they didn't notice any of their surroundings, as they focused their attention on what was happening in your house.

“They think you’re a freak,” he paused, for what felt like centuries, before saying, “They want you two to break up.” Before Edward can continue, Jasper put the car in reverse and sped home so fast that even Edward wanted to suggest slowing down.

“What am I going to do?” Jasper asked as he opened the front door to the Cullen's house. Emmett and Edward shuffled in behind him without a word.

“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n’s parents,” Emmet advised.

“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n too,” as soon as the words escaped Edward's mouth Emmett and Jasper were staring at him, waiting for an explanation. “When I was listening to their thoughts, y/n was mad that you weren’t more careful.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Jasper said, his voice full of exasperation.

A week passes, and somehow Jasper finds himself standing next to Carlisle at your doorstep.

“Jasper, I’m surprised you asked me to do this for you,” Carlisle says quietly as he taps his stone-cold hand against your front door. “This relationship must mean a lot to you.” The door opens before their conversation continues, and they’re greeted with your father's presence. Days had passed since Jasper had gotten to see you. After what happened last week, Jasper called your house, but when your father answered, he told Jasper to never call back again. Jasper had hoped he’d be able to talk with you at school, but you anxiously avoided him, and he wasn’t looking to upset you anymore. It was the slowest week of his 160-year-old life.

“It’s great to see you. I’m Dr. Cullen, Jasper’s father. I was wondering if we could have a word?” Your father is hesitant at the question, but allows the two of them to come inside. The three of them sit at the dining table that your mother is already occupying. As they sit, Jasper nervously fumbles with his hands, worried that his plan to involve Carlisle as his ‘father’ wouldn’t work the way he hoped.

“Jasper,” you say as you walk into the kitchen, surprised to see them, “and Carlisle, what’s going on?” You make your way to the table and sit down on the far end, with Jasper on one side of you, and your father on the other. Jasper could feel the nervousness emitting from you, and it almost matched his own. He wanted to grab on to you and never let go as he took in your intoxicating scent and warm skin, but instead, he settled for inconspicuously placing a hand on your knee and hoping your family didn’t notice.

“I wanted to discuss with you all what happened last week,” Carlisle said, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him. When he said the words, almost everyone in the room had their eyes on your (no longer purple) neck. Except for Jasper, who was looking deep into your eyes as if they could heal him or ease his pain. “What Jasper did was irresponsible, and I do not condone that kind of behavior. We have both raised two very responsible, mature, and sensible kids. As disapproving as I am, what they did was not dangerous. Our children had the self-control to stop themselves before things got too out of hand. I know these kids make each other happy, and I believe we should continue to let them see each other.” Carlisle hardly gave anyone time to speak as he felt the disapproval radiate off your parents. “And if it would make you more comfortable, they don’t have to be together at my house anymore. At least not alone.” There was a long pause after Carlisle finished speaking, as if what he said compelled everyone to silence. Jasper gently squeezed your knee and glanced at you hopefully.

“I’ll agree that they continue to see each other, on the condition that they can only be alone together in public, or at our house, with the doors open, while we are home.” It might sound like a big ask, but Jasper knew how secretive and creative Edward was with Bella, and for someone so special to him, he was willing to try and be just as sneaky for you. The idea of sneaking into your bedroom late at night filled him with excitement, and he quickly thought of all the ways he could climb into your bed without your family noticing.

“I think we can agree to that,” Carlisle said with a wide smile and stood up to shake your father’s hand. Jasper smiled eagerly as he stood up, beckoning you to stand too, and wrapped you into a hug. Even if his skin was glacial, he still warmed your heart. You attempted to suppress your excited laugh as Jasper kissed your cheek.

“Hey,” your father called out disapprovingly, causing Jasper to loosen his grip around you.

“What?” you mused, “the doors are open?” Jasper tried to hide his smile in your hair as your parents let out a collective sigh.

“Don’t push it you two,” Carlisle said just loud enough for only you two to hear. He threw the two of you a knowing wink as he made his way back to the front door. Jasper smiled in a way you’d never seen before and slightly adjusted so his back was facing your parents. Gently, he leaned down to kiss you one more time. This time, he let his cold lips meet yours, and even if it was just for a second, you could feel every ounce of his love.

“See you soon, darlin’,” he said with a hushed sultry southern accent. Next time you two were together, he planned on continuing what you never got to finish.

[inkdrinkerworld]

remus x reader leading up to the full moon and he just can’t control himself he gets so hot and bothered around reader in the most normal circumstances

like being sat by the lake with their friends, or in the great hall- she’s simply talking to sirius or james

he has to pull her away to satiate his need 😋

Cw: smut, p in v penetration, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, MDNI, 18+ only!!! It’s been a minute since I’ve written smut but I like this it’s soft but also a little feral and desperate

You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked. You should have known from your boyfriend’s smile that this wouldn’t just be a day at the lake.

You’d opted for a pair of shorts and just your purple bikini top, not planning on taking a swim but the summer heat was too much for any more clothes.

Remus hadn’t stopped trailing his hands down your sides since you laid out on the dock near the lake.

“You said you wanted to go in the water Rem,” there’s no annoyance in your tone, just amusement. More so when his index finger flicks the dangling charm on your belly piercing and a groan escapes him.

“Changed my mind.” His voice is heavy with lust, his mouth trailing over your collarbone. “You smell so good.”

“I didn’t even spray anything before we left.” You squeal when he tucks his nose to your neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like caramel and cream.”

You push his head away from your neck when he bites down on you, “Remmy.” You try to sound stern, but you when Remus gets like this, it’s hard to stop heat pooling in your stomach.

He lifts his head, his eyes lust blown. “Mm?” He’s so glad James and Sirius said no to a trip to the lake today, he fiddles with the button on your pants. “Can I?”

You nod, licking your lips as you watch him. It might be a little pathetic, the way your desperation coincides with his, but it’s hard to not find Remus irresistible.

His groan is loud and long when he pulls down your shorts to reveal the matching purple bikini bottoms. “Gods,” is all he says, pulling at the strings on either sides of your hips to get the underwear to fall away.

“You’re perfect.” He mutters as he rearranges you so that you’re higher up on the dock and he can drape a leg over his shoulder. “Can smell you from here, dove.”

Remus doesn’t say anything else, he just drops to his stomach and burying his face between your legs.

Yours hands form fists against the wooden dock, a broken whine leaving you as Remus sucks on your clit. “Fuck Rem.”

Your chest is heaving and Remus can’t seem to get his face deep enough for his liking. He slips two fingers into you, smiling against your slick when you shudder and reach a hand to his hair.

“So good,” he murmurs, lapping at your cunt as his shoulders hold your legs open wide. “Can feel you getting close, dove.”

You nod, mewling when his fingers sink deeper into you, thumb brushing your clit as he marks your thigh.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Just let go, sweet girl.” And you do, thighs clenched tight around his head as he works you through your orgasm.

“So good for me,” Remus praises, leaning up and over your body to smash his lips into yours. “Think you can take my cock?”

You nod rapidly, lips breaking apart from his. “Please Remmy?” He chuckles, all he needs to do is get you pliant with a couple tender touches and an orgasm and you become a begging mess and he loves it.

“You know you’ll get what you want, dovey.” Remus wastes no time, fiddling with his shorts to get his cock out and lined up with your entrance.

“You can’t scream dove,” he warns, watching you nod and bite your lip as he sinks into you.

Even with his warning, Remus can practically feel the scream ready to rip through your lungs and covers your mouth with a hand.

“Dovey,” he tuts, hips snapping into yours as he presses on your mouth. “Be my good girl yeah?”

You nod, bucking into his thrusts as his hand falls away from your mouth. With two hands bracketed beside your head, Remus’ thrusts are deeper and you can’t help but grip his shirt.

He chuckles, interlacing your fingers as he feels his stomach clench at the way you sob at his thrusts.

“I’m getting close again, Remmy.”

He nods, cooing at you as one hand reaches your clit again. “Don’t have to ask today, dovey. Just let go when you need to. Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

You swear your eyes cross as your orgasm crashes into you, Remus groaning and baring down over you making you choke on a cry.

“So deep.” You mumble, hands trying to find a steady part of him to hold onto. Remus’ hands find your hips, slamming you into his cock with every thrust and it makes your second orgasm build and swell into a third one.

You’re sure the dock is slick with you now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Remus is above you groaning and growling like he’s been needing this for years.

He’s all you can think about when he’s fucking you like this and you wouldn’t have it another way. You hold onto his wrists as you feel him twitch inside of you, eyes barely open as you watch him try to stave off his release.

“Please Remmy, wanna see you let go.” Your voice is breathy and a little raw from all the moaning but Remus swears you’ve never sounded more sexy.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect.” He grumbles, pulling out of you and painting his seed over your lower stomach. “Most perfect girl in the world.” He breathes, watching you catch your breath.

“Think I might have to get in the lake after all.” You joke, leaning up on your elbows as you inspect the mess Remus has made of you.

He chuckles, kissing your stomach and pushing up your bikini top, “Not yet though. Not done with you.”

[iwaasfairy]

[»»] Hello pretty girl! I have come to you finally with my Uncle Satoru thoughts.

Thinking about how you’re trying to stay away, trying to be happy with your boyfriend. Trying to force the spark between you two. But you have to think about Satoru every time you and your boyfriend have sex so you can cum. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen eachother. You try to ignore him because you know if he asked you, you’d give him everything you have.

a/n. beLoVEDDD thank you for the uncle gojo idea he mAkES ME CRAZY!!! He makes me a bit insane ♡♡ thank you for the support ily ily ily

tw. incest, uncle gojo, coercion, cheating

wc. 1.5k

gojo satoru x fem!reader

“Does that feel good?”

“Look at me. I want you to see me when I fuck you.”

The blond between your legs rubs his tongue in the way you like, swirls it around your puffy nub as two thick fingers slide back in and make your legs twitch, opening further. His hair tickles a little on the inside of your legs, and you hum into a moan that’s half-artificial, half-bodily when the sucking gets to that exact spot you want.

“So desperate. So whiny for your -”

Stop. You stare at a spot in the ceiling not to whine and moan, grip onto his soft hair as you bite your bottom lip, and fight the need. To mewl his name like a prayer the way your body wants. Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru.

“Huh?” Kenji’s big eyes find yours blown out and searching, as you whither under his ministrations.

“Said, feels good.” You breathe back, and also shake your lower half left and right for attention. Attention your boyfriend’s more than willing to give as a sweet, encouraging smile slips onto his wet lips, slick dripping from his chin.

“Yeah?” He kisses the bundle of nerves and wraps a hand around your thigh to push it open further, nodding against your pussy. “Gonna get you there again tonight, babe. Don’t you worry.” Because that’s who you’ve become. A girl who can’t cum without thinking of a very specific set of hands on you, a specific shape pushing into your insides. You don’t tell Kenji that, of course.

It’s not his fault you’re ruined. Not his fault that you want the hair lighter, the voice smoother, more languid. That it’s different long fingers you really want tracing your folds and slipping down your throat.

“There you go, pretty girl. My favorite. Favorite fucking pussy in the world.”

Your body shakes as you imagine baby blue eyes staring back at you, smiling as he gets you to your limit. The fingers bounce against that soft, spongy spot and his tongue rubs hard and precise against your clit, and you grab your tits like uncle ‘toru does— the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping. “Agh, aghh- cu-mming. Fuck.” Satoru, satoru, uncle Satoru. You can’t stop yourself from mouthing his name, so you bite your hand to shut it up.

+

It will be fun, is what your boyfriend had convinced you of, cooking for you. It will be fun. But it hadn’t really been the cooking or the fun that had had you dragging your feet. The company, however, is something else entirely.

Cooking in your kitchen means uncle Satoru comes home to see you both cozied up in the small room, invites himself, is now perched against the cupboards with a second home-made mojito. Blue eyes basically staring through you as you do your very best to ignore the sensation. “You like cooking, Kenji?” He mumbles around his straw, catching you when you look at him from the corner of your eyes.

“When she’s the one eating, yeah.” It’s sweet. You feel bitter standing on the other side of the kitchen, trying not to look as longingly as you feel. Every time you catch his shape, all you can think of is his mouth on you, breathing down your neck as he pushes you up against the wall. The exact wall you’re leaning against, tasting his spit and swallowing it with a choked moan.

The way he ripped your underwear down your thighs like it was offensive to see you wearing anything, and patting the flushed, hot head of his cock against your pussy before pushing in. It’s shameful how easy you feel for him.

Your flesh and blood, pedestalled miles above.

His voice is tinted a little dark when he chuckles. “You two kids are adorable.”

This isn’t funny. None of this is fun to you. It sinks your gut, and has you crossing your arms over your chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like a child.” Satoru’s surprised you even speak at all, it seems, because long white lashes flutter as he rights himself a little more.

Something glimmers in his eyes as he rolls the straw either way between his lips with his tongue. Then he tutts his lips. “You and I both know I don’t treat you like a child, baby.” Baby. Even the way he says the word, full of subtext, makes the heat rise on your cheeks and has you looking away to instead focus on the layers of pasta your boyfriend is carefully placing between each layer of sauce. “You two act like a married couple, s’all.”

“Aren’t you interested in getting married, Gojo san?” Kenji politely asks over his shoulder, and entirely misses the way your uncle -the object of your affections- stares you down with a look that says all too much.

It gives you shivers. His eyes seem to peel your skeleton out from your skin, entirely exposed. “My family would love to see me married off to some other big important family and pop out a bunch of kids. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna.”

You know he’s talking to you and not to the other blond at all, when he pushes from the cupboards to come to stand before you— towers you more like. And places his hand on your head to pet your hair, before biting his bottom lip as a line of deep thought appears between his brows. “I’ll only do what I’ve always done. Which is whatever I want.” You feel the difference in temperature when the touch moves away, and miss it too much.

+

A knock at your door later that day makes the hairs on your neck stand upright— until you watch him push inside with a look. Blank, unlike him. He traces random figures over the wood grain with a soft noise. “Nice kid.”

Your mouth corners quirk up without you having control over them. Even his presence makes you heat from your toes to your ears. It’s so unfair. “You don’t have to act like it’s the first time you’re meeting him every time he comes by.”

“You don’t bring him around that often. Feels like the first time.” You can’t say anything at that, only go back to tapping your fingers against the keyboard distracted. He walks in, and that distracts you too. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too mean to me?”

“Satoru.”

“-Uncle Satoru,” he corrects, and ends up beside you with two big steps, to tilt your head back by your chin. He’s pouty now. There’s an order to the song and dance, and you’ve messed it up. He holds onto you. “I’ve missed you.”

“U-uncle ‘toru… we said- I thought we’d stop.”

He leans down to trace his fingers over your mouth, before tilting his head to the side. “Who said that?” With baby blues fixed on you, he draws you out from your chair with a single word. “Stand up, I want you to see something.”

It happens whether you like it or not. You end up standing with your toes to his and letting him loop your arms around him, as you longingly look up. Feel his breath dust over your face as he leans down enough to make you cross eyed.

“Y’love your uncle ‘toru? You love me, don’t you?” Your nodding gets interrupted because he kisses you on the lips, gently— then hands drop to your thighs to start sliding under your skirt without hesitation. “Then you should stop lying to the poor guy, don’t you think?”

You melt in his arms to watch him peel the panties from under you, and he snaps the elastic with a teasing smirk. Then he goes to lift you up so you’re hanging onto his shoulders and pressed against the wall. The seam of his pants rides against your cunt when he readjusts, and nudges your head aside to place mean kisses on your throat, biting as he goes. “It’s been so long, baby. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted your little pussy squeezing around me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your fingers dig into his shoulders. You can feel yourself slicking up at just the thought of him, and let out a moan. The truth comes out whether you want it to or not. When Satoru looks at you, he can see it. Dips his head to push soft lips against you, tongue pushing inside your mouth to taste yours as he rolls his hips in a perfect arc to make you squirm. Your fingers trail through the shorter hair at his neck to hang on, as he smiles. “There’s my good girl. My favorite little niece. You won’t ever grow out of being my biggest fan, will you?”

Your voice hitches when feeling that hard, perfect cock swell against you in his pants. And your head goes cloudy. “Uncle Satoru. Uncle Satoru. Want you- wanna cum with you inside. Needed you so much. Please?”

IWAASFAIRY 2024

[bluesidez]

Hey there! I've never made a request before, I hope it will not make you uncomfortable 🙏🏻 could I please request a fem!Reader pegging Miguel? Like he's always the Dom one in the relationship and reader wants to try something new and be the dominant one for one time and Miguel is a bit uncertain in the beginning but turns out he loves it so much! (also because the one who's pegging him is his beautiful, beloved sexy girlfriend 👀)

[Is It Tight?]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

summary: Miguel lets his girlfriend guide him to the edge. 

content warning: basically a PWP (but of course I hint at plot/characterization because I have no self control), 18+ so MDNI, pegging, butt play, cunnilingus, fellatio, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), butt plugs, a little bit of dom + sub dynamics (I can't resist a subby Mig, SORRY!), softness!

word count: 4.7k, halfway proofread

a/n: You don’t know how happy I was when I read this omg. I was NOT disgusted but ecstatic. This is my first time writing pegging, not my first time thinking about man (specifically Miguel’s) butt. 

“You want to do what?”

You lean on his moving chest, the room hot after your previous encounter.

“I want to…fuck you!”

“That’s not what you said.”

You pout and sit up a bit. You thought the bliss of him just fucking you within an inch of your life would be enough to easily convince him to do anything.

It usually worked but this ask was a lot more risque than your other asks. Maybe you should have asked him while he was deep in the valley instead. 

“You always make me feel so good, I just wanted to do the same for you this time.”

“You do make me feel good,” he brushed a stray hair on your cheek. “This is something else entirely.”

“I know but,” you climbed on top of him, face leaning over his. “I just wanted to try something different.”

You ran your hand down his neck to his sternum, tilting your head to the side, watching as he raised an eyebrow at your act. 

“Don’t you want to explore a new side of pleasure with me?”

Your hands made their way to his chest, rubbing across his nipples. You bite your lip just thinking about him sprawled out against the bed, mind filled with nothing but bliss. He would look so beautiful with your hands gripping around his waist. 

How would he sound?

Would he call your name with that pretty voice of his? Would he grunt and grip onto you? Would he enjoy the view of you working into him?

“You really are enjoying the thought of this, aren’t you?” Miguel gave you a deadpan look, but his neck was on fire. 

“Yeah,” you reply, shifting to press your breasts against his torso. You drag his left hand and bring it right in between your legs, watching his eyebrows raise as he feels the building slick. “It excites me.”

You keep Miguel’s heated gaze as he slides over your entrance, fingertips rubbing side to side. You spread your legs wider, enjoying the way that Miguel was eager to dip his fingers back into you. 

You let him play, tightening around his fingers as he groaned at the sound of you getting wetter and wetter. You were dripping with both the past and the present sessions and riled up from your thoughts. 

Still, you had a plan. 

“But, I know it can be a lot,” you say right as Miguel started to rub his head over your lips. You roll over and put on your slippers, “So I won’t bring it up anymore.”

You bend to grab your clothes from the floor, air cooling your naked body. You start to head towards the bathroom when Miguel sits up and grabs your wrist to pull you back into bed. 

“I-I’ll think about it,” he breathes into your skin. You bend your neck, letting him continue to kiss along your skin. 

“Really? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It should be something you’re sure about.”

“If it’s with you, I’m willing to try it.”

Bingo.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel wraps your legs back over his hips, mouth preoccupied. “One more round?”

You card your fingers through his hair, humming as he takes your ass in his hands, swerving your hips over his dick. 

“Miguel,” Lyla’s holographic body popped up next to the both of you. 

“Lyla, no-”

“Lyla, yes! You’re needed at HQ. An anomaly broke out in the therapy hall.”

Miguel grunted and knocked his head back onto the wall, “Ok, ok. Just give me a second.”

“There’s a lot of emotional spiders listening to a Green Goblin reenact their uncles’ death right now, so you might want to hurry.”

“I got it,” Miguel groaned. “You can go now.”

Lyla snickered before she flickered away.

“Well, babe,” you pat Miguel’s chest. “Duty calls.”

You stand up and laugh at Miguel’s reluctance to move. You pull him to the edge of the bed and he only leans on your stomach with his arms wrapped around your thighs.  

“Will I see you tonight?” he whines. 

“Only if you’re not busy at work. I’ll be here.”

“Alright,” Miguel says. He grabs you and hoists you over his shoulder. “Five minutes in the shower.”

You laugh as he brings you to the bathroom. 

What’s a little irresponsibility for a man who’s constantly saving the multiverse?

Getting him ready was a slow and steady process. 

It started with butt grabs. 

You’ve always noticed how good he looked from the back, but you also know how sensitive guys could be about that area of their bodies. 

The first time you patted his ass, he almost jumped out of his skin, cursing like a sailor. The second time he was a little bit more prepared, albeit a bit peeved. The seventh time, you were slapping it with ease. By the fifteenth time, you were grabbing handfuls to squeeze and he was just letting you have your way.

Next, you decided to introduce some butt play into y'all’s regular sex life. When you grabbed his ass to guide him while he was slamming into you during missionary, it was such an exciting sight watching him get riled up by your encouragement. 

Then one night, he had you on your back, one leg in his hands and the other spread to the side. He was diving deep into you, lips against yours as he whispered out praise. You ghosted your hands from his balls to his taint to his hole, pressure building as you tapped against it. Miguel came with a shout, nerves tight. 

You raised your eyebrows as you felt him shake above you, “Did you like that?”

“I don’t even know what just happened.”

Later, this move extended to you adding lube and sliding your finger past the rim. Miguel would have to slow down out of fear of finishing too soon, his pride too butthurt from the last time. This went from one finger to two. At three, he was whining in your ears and pushing back against your fingers and forth into your pussy. 

His words were incoherent, eyebrows pinched downward as his hips found the perfect balance of pushing and pulling.

“What was that?” you say with shortened breath, his hips drilling harder and harder.

“I feel so good,” he pants out, eyes heavy. You lean up to kiss him, happy with his progress. 

The feeling of you clenching around him and filling him up was enough to knock him out for a night.

Then you moved on to butt plugs, which you lovingly decided to buy in the color of his suit. 

“Look,” you said, holding the freshly washed plugs up. “I bought us a couple’s set!”

Miguel just stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He looked unamused, but you’ve been with him long enough to know it was masked excitement. 

When you made it a competition, something Miguel couldn’t refuse after all of these years, he was all ears. 

The challenge was to see who could go a full workday without removing their plug. Whoever won had full range to do whatever they wanted to the other for a day, whether that meant teasing, kissing, or fucking. 

It was fun, a bit risky, but overall right up Miguel’s aroused alley. 

What Miguel didn’t understand was how much it was going to affect him. 

You were going to be sitting down most of the day, with occasional movement for meetings or consulting with your coworkers. 

Miguel was going to be moving constantly through universes, running up walls, jumping through the air, and using his sheer strength. 

You tried to warn him of what was to come, not wanting him to be too out of the loop. 

“Nena, how bad could it be? It’s not even as big as three of your fingers,” Miguel said begrudgingly as he laid over your lap one morning. 

“Hey, if you’re confident, then good for you,” you reply. “Let’s play.”

You lubed down the blue plug and worked it in slowly, watching Miguel’s body for any discomfort. You felt his body tense up as you got closer to the base, his hands gripping the couch under him. You twist it a little, earning a hitched breath from him.  

Then you push it all the way in, red base pretty against his dark skin. You press it, watching his thighs shake the more you add pressure, then pat his butt. 

“All done!”

“That’s it?” Miguel asks, looking back to you with a perplexed face. 

“Yep. It’s in and snug as a rug,” you pull at it just to show him. 

“Ah,” he hums and then swats your hand away. “Don’t cheat. And where’s the other one? Let me put it in.”

“I put it in after my shower this morning. I wanted to focus on you in case something went wrong or you changed your mind.”

Miguel stood up in his birthday suit, arms crossed and eyes soft, “That’s sweet of you. I would have loved to watch my girl while I slid it in, though.”

You moved your lips to the side, heart pounding at the thought of Miguel watching you clench and quiver around nothing while he messed with your plug. 

“Next time.”

“Yeah? Can I see?”

You stood up and turned around, bending far enough to where your pencil skirt rides up your ass. Miguel comes closer and moves your panties to the side, cursing as he sees the blue jewel sitting above your entrance. 

“You’re going to make me late,” Miguel started to palm down your legs, squatting to get closer to your sex. “Eres mi deblilidad.”

You felt his breath on your skin, heat pooling to your core as he started to kiss through the fabric over your clothed clit. 

You grip the back of the coach, knees buckling as he moves to spread your ass further, thumb pulling at the line of your panties. He licks upwards then pushes his face further in, nose digging deep into you and his other thumb pressing against the plug. 

“Baby,” you sigh with bliss, back arching the more his tongue devoured you whole. “We need to go. I-I thought you said no cheating.”

Miguel only let out a sound of satisfaction, completely ignoring your words. You started to push back against him, hand grabbing his head to gain purchase. You could feel the moans you were trying to hold back leave your throat. Miguel only joined you, loving that he had you stuck like this. 

Your watch buzzed and the time on there caused you to panic. Your heart picked up and you involuntarily squeezed around Miguel’s tongue. He grunted and moved his head more. 

“Shit,” you gasp, not registering if it was because of Miguel or the fact that you only had so much time to freshen up and beat Nueva York traffic. You tried to pull away, to no avail, “Miguel, I need to go.”

“I’ll swing you there.”

For what felt like forever, Miguel had his face in between your thighs, hands kneading against your skin. You yelled his name as he didn’t let up, face dripping with you. Only when you finally came, Miguel was satisfied, drinking up every last drop. 

When he leaned back, you fell forward on the couch, turning to give him a look of annoyance. He only gave a toothy smile, tongue wiping over his fangs. 

“Are you going to HQ like that?” you huff, looking at the completely drenched face he was sporting. 

“I have a mask for a reason.” He patted your hip with a smirk, “Good luck today.”

You watch him stand up, eying his body, “I could say the same to you. That looks like it hurts.”

You both look down at his erection standing tall and proud. 

“I’m sure something will annoy me enough for it to go down as soon as I step foot into the building.”

The day went on smoothly for you, a glow to your skin and a reminder of how it affects your strong-willed boyfriend. 

For Miguel, it was hell. 

He was fine when he was standing up, reading over file after file, but when he had to move, he felt he might topple over. 

After helping Ben tackle an anomaly, his thighs kept quivering. Ben started a soliloquy about the hard work of a man that goes unnoticed and Miguel tried his best to lock himself back in his office. By the time he made it to the edge of the platform, the contact of the metal floor to his ass had him gripping the edge for dear life. 

He laid back, breaths coming broken and fast, wondering how you were possibly managing. 

Just when things couldn’t get worse, you sent him a message, tone happy and bright saying that you and the plug were still going strong. Miguel opened the message, fingers shaking, and it was a picture of just your ass, plump and perfect with the plug still there. 

Miguel just about came right there. 

He let the platform up, high enough to feel like no one could see or hear him, and disengaged part of his suit. 

He was red with embarrassment, but he knew you were going to want a progress check from him. He sucked it up and angled his watch in a way that got the plug lodged in him, his poor dick leaking like a fountain. 

Your reply was instant, praising him for keeping it in, calling him pretty, and making steamy promises for tonight. 

Miguel kept his day going, the red and blue plug pushing and prodding at the most inconvenient times. 

When he got home, dragging himself through the window, he wasted no time turning off his suit and taking you into your arms, dinner be damned. 

The sex was loud and frantic, Miguel entranced by the blue jewelry making an appearance every time his hips met with your ass. He was practically salivating over it. 

When you snuck your hand behind him while he was pressing you into the mattress to tug at his plug, he screamed and came within record time, venom dripping from his fangs onto the pillow. 

He stayed inside of you for a while, heart beating like a drum. 

“I guess that means I win,” you say. Miguel is fully on top of you, mind gone. “Nice game, baby.”

“Mm.”

The day was finally here. 

The day you were going to peg your big, strong boyfriend. 

You were so excited you were buzzing. 

You sat on his couch kicking your feet when you found the perfect strap-on. A dildo that was pink, sparkly 6 inches, and a bit narrow. The harness matched with the front having a dark pink lace design, the straps black, and the rings rose gold. 

Your cuddle session with Miguel was interrupted when it came, Lyla excited because you were so excited as you ran to the door to grab the box. 

You went straight to cleaning it, with Miguel leaning over the counter as you boiled the dildo with a stunned expression. 

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“You’ve gotten yourself into a world of fun!”

Now here you both were on his bed. You sat on your legs while Miguel sat with his legs spread around you. Miguel was in briefs while you chose to go with a comfy set. 

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“Good.”

You lean forward and hold his face in your hands, slotting your lips against his. Like a magnet, Miguel’s hands find your waist, mouth opening with ease. 

It’s intimate and soft how Miguel pulls you closer, falling back onto the bed with a chuckle ghosting his lips at your panic. Like this, you can see that there’s some excitement hidden in his eyes, despite the way he’s been pouting all day. 

You continue to kiss him all over, a move that he usually does to cheer you up. It works as Miguel relaxes more into the bed, hands rubbing up and down your back.  

Your mouth attaches to where his jaw and neck meet, sucking the skin. Miguel’s breath hitches as you continue, leaving evidence of love down his neck. You rub yourself against him, grinding at a slow tempo. Miguel’s hands grip at your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. 

He shuddered as you slid your hands down his arms and chest, eyes locked onto yours. You inched down his body, mouth leaving wet kisses on his skin. You latch onto his nipple, biting softly and pulling causing his stomach to move. Your other hand massaged the opposite peck, kneading at the soft skin. The pressure on just him alone had him more sensitive than usual.

“Color?”

“Green.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, the air around you both warm and quiet. 

You slid your hands to his underwear, bending as you went to kiss his bulge. Miguel twitches as you run your tongue over the cotton, your hands pulling slowly at the band. His length lays half-hard as you slide the underwear down his legs. 

When you get them off, you dust your hands across his pelvis, watching as his cock moves from your hands being so close but not close enough. You run your nails over his skin with a smile on your face. 

“C-can you take your bra off?” Miguel touches your arm.

“Of course,” you cross your arms and yank it slowly from your skin. Miguel watches the way your breasts bounce out of the fabric. “Better?”

He nods his head. 

You look back down and see that he’s harder than before. You chuckle as the sight. Sometimes, he was so simple and you adored it. 

You take him in your hand, moving from the base to the tip, taking some of the precum and spreading it around his head. Miguel breathed through his teeth, still sensitive. You reached down to kiss the tip, hands still moving around his girth. Miguel grabbed onto your head, eyes foggy as you looked up at him. 

You slide your mouth open and take his length halfway through. One hand cups his balls and the other grazes the skin under his his happy trail. You can feel him tensing and relaxing, fingers in your hair scrunching together. 

You go farther, gagging when it reaches the back of your throat, constricting over the head. Miguel curses, s’s and m’s lining his teeth. You bob your head up and down, hands moving to his hips when he starts to buck up into your mouth. 

You feel his hands getting even tighter in your hair and your name is in the air. You pull off with a pop, much to Miguel’s dismay. 

“Can’t keep going or you’ll cum,” you remind him with a pout on your lips. 

Miguel just grunted and held an arm over his eyes, chest rising and falling with great speed.

You grab the lube at the other end of the bed, uncapping it and pouring a generous amount onto your hand.

“I’m gonna start off with one and we’ll build up. Color?”

Miguel turned his head to the side, eyes still closed, “Green.”

You nudge his legs open with your knee, choosing to finger him this way to watch his body language. You push one of his legs up, laughing to yourself when you can practically see the irritation in his temple.

Like this, you could see what was going on. In your mind, he was open and waiting no matter how much he pretended like he wasn’t

You take your finger and rub it around the hole, watching as his hips jump. 

“Relax, Miguel. It’s just me.”

“And you’re about to put half of a Subway sandwich in me.”

“Technically,” you slip your finger in, using his bickering as a way to get him to relax. “That sandwich is smaller than my strap.”

Miguel clenches down on you as you start to move. 

“Oh? Are you excited by that?”

“No,” Miguel says petulantly. He’s still clenching onto your finger like a vice as you go in and out. “Not entirely.”

You tilt your head and run your free hand over the hair on his torso. You keep going until you get his length in your hand, tugging lazily at the base. This gets Miguel to redirect his focusing, moaning move both hands. 

“It won’t be bad, baby, I promise. Just trust me.”

“I do.”

“I’m going to put the second finger in, ok?”

He nods, hips moving up into your hand. 

You take one finger out and press two against his rim. You inch forward slowly and press your free thumb over his taint. Miguel trembles like a leaf as you get to the base of your hand. You let go of his dick and redirect your focus to his chest. 

“Color?”

“Still green.”

You reach to kiss the middle of his chest, “You’re doing really good. We’re almost to the best part.”

After a while of stretching your fingers and twisting your hand, you move on to add the third finger. 

You push, meeting a bit of resistance, so to relax him again, you have him look at you so that you can kiss him. 

You lick at his lips, causing him to open his lips immediately. You dip into his mouth, the pace of your hands matching your tongue. Miguel hums and grabs onto your arms, mouth tilting to deepen the kiss. He’s so distracted that you tilt your wrist to switch angles, he jolts, body practically jumping from the bad.

“Do that again,” Miguel gasps against your lips. 

You slide your fingers in again, rubbing over the knot again. 

“Fuck!” Miguel cries, eyebrows pinching up. “What…¿Qué es eso?”

You smile and kiss the corner of his mouth, sliding in and out again just to see him react, “That’s your prostate, Miguel. I know you know what that is.”

Miguel’s head lolls to the side, eyes unfocused. 

“Or are you too full to think?” 

Miguel’s hands tighten around your forearms, little moans escaping as you keep a steady pace. You’ve never heard him like this before. So whiny, so wanton. 

“Amor, please.”

“Please, what?”

“I wanna cum.”

“Do you? But we just started, baby.”

You pull out your fingers and lean back, Miguel agitated and his hole clenching at nothing. 

You hurried to put the strap-on on, pulling everything in place. 

“Color?” you ask as you coat the dildo with lube. 

“Green but, I wanna,” Miguel pants. “I need to turn over.”

“You ok, baby?”

“I wanna last.”

You could feel the cool air hit your wet panties, Miguel’s complete 180 making you want him more. 

“That’s fine, go ahead. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He turned over on wobbly limbs. If this weren’t such a serious situation, you’d call him your baby giraffe. He hit the bed like a sack of potatoes, arms giving out. 

You lean up to kiss his cheek, “If anything hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

You slide his legs open and take a cup of his ass in your hand. His hole was still wet from earlier, clenching and unclenching. You pour a hefty amount of lube on there, his body jumping from the coolness. You rub the small of his back in consolation. 

You toss the bottle to the side and spread your knees. Inching forward, you press the tip against his hole, slowly breaching past the rim. Miguel’s back muscles start to constrict, his arms moving under him. 

He relaxes a bit when you reach to rub his back, a move that calms him on his toughest of days. 

You move further until you bottom out, hips pressed against the plush of his ass. 

“Color?”

“G-green.”

“I’m going to start moving,” you say lowly. 

Your hips slide back and ease forward, the sound of it already extremely wet. Miguel makes a stunted sound, vibrations trickling down his body. You do the motion again, this time with a little more force and Miguel is moaning into his arms.

His back looks beautiful, taunt muscles moving in tandem in reaction to your cock moving in and out of him. His skin is getting warmer, heat is building in his thighs and his core. His ass is bouncing with every snap of your hips. 

You grab his waist and push your weight on harder. Miguel’s voice breaks at this, filling up the bedroom easily. The bed creaks with the force of you swerving in and out, the perks of a penthouse being no close neighbors to listen to the sound of Miguel’s needy whines.

It feels like you’ve been at it for a while, and still, you haven’t found his sweet spot again. With a shift in position, you lean over his body, breasts pressing into his back, and lift your hips up. You slam back down with overwhelming force. 

Miguel yells, hands clenching the sheets below him. That was it, that was the spot. You move to jerk your pelvis again, enjoying the sounds of Miguel absolutely losing it. 

“Bebé, así, así,” Miguel moans out. 

You reach to move his head to the side to hear him better, “Feeling good, Miguel?”

His words are gibberish, barely comprehending what’s happening past the feeling of your cock dragging against his hole. 

“You feel so good to me,” you say against his ear. “You’re doing so good for me, too. Look so amazing on my strap. ‘M so wet just looking at you, baby.”

At your praise, at the mention of your pussy, Miguel is biting onto the pillow below him. His hips are stuck in a loop of grinding against the mattress and pushing back for more. 

“Oh, god,” Miguel cries, fangs starting to drip. You looked at his hands, and sure enough, his talons were gripping into the mattress. “Shit, shit, shit!”

You switched to squat above him, gaining an even deeper angle.

“And you’re so messy,” you say. You’re honestly winded but the sight of your boyfriend sprawled out like this is spurring you on. “I bet your big dick is just dripping, huh?”

Miguel nods, eyes squeezing tight as his back arches. He wanted more, needed more. 

“You want to cum, Mig?” 

“Yes! Please, please, please,” Miguel was shaking with fervor. 

You stopped moving and pulled out, which caused Miguel to just about sob. 

“Why did you stop?” he whined, looking back to you with the saddest eyes. He was shaking like a leaf, hands trembling, and saliva down his cheek.

“Because I want to see your face when you let go.”

Out of the pure adrenaline you had, you helped to flip his body and spread his legs up. Thank goodness for his flexibility from being Spider-man, otherwise, this position was never going to work. 

You lined your cock back up, peppering his pouting face with kisses as you started to move again. From this angle, you could really see his face contort and twist from everything you were giving him. His eyes would roll as you drilled into his prostate, his hips would jump if you grazed his nipples, and he would practically melt once you looked him in the eyes. 

“I want to kiss,” Miguel breathes. “Please.”

You grant his wish and lean your forehead on his while you push into him over and over. His mouth is open and his breaths irritatic. Your breasts bounce with the effort you’re putting in. You can see that he’s close, upper lip still moving up in the way it does when he’s about to empty into you. 

You lick into his mouth as you take his length in your hand and give it three strong pumps. 

Miguel shouts your name as he cums, hands and talons still gripping onto the mattress so as not to hurt you. He paints you both, body shuddering and chest pressing into yours.

He’s so, so gorgeous. 

After a while of breathing, you take your strap out and straighten his legs out, not wanting him to be uncomfortable. 

“Miguel? Baby?” You rub his chest to bring him back down to Earth. “Can you hear me?”

“What,” Miguel took a deep breath, “the fuck.”

You burst out in laughter at his reaction. 

“I’m assuming that means you had a good time?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes.”

“You feel lighter and less tense, right?’

Miguel squinted at you but nodded his head.

“Good, good,”

You went to get a warm towel to wipe him down, a session of cuddles needed after such mind-boggling discoveries for him.

“You know…”

Miguel sighed, “What?”

“We should try the dildo that ejaculates next.”

Miguel stiffens, “Now you’re just going too far.”

I hope your first time submitting a request brought you great satisfaction!

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[umnitsa]

Dirty old man

Summary: Joel is on his seventies, but he still has needs.

A/N: Ok, so. One pic made the rounds in one of the discord servers I frequent and it made me wild, I won't lie (it was a pic/meme with aged Pedro Pascal). Highly inspired by @toxicanonymity's GILF!Joel (mine is a bit of a perv, but this isn't really a dark fic). It was also inspired by @atticrissfinch's MMITB (I wish I had a fraction of her talent for dirty talk, but I'm not even a native speaker of English, so I do what I can). Now you go read them both, I ASSURE YOU it'll be a good time. Huge thanks for all the people that cheered me on with this: Toxi, @romanarose, @beefrobeefcal, @gwendibleywrites, I love you all. (I must admit that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, honestly, although part of me wants to get to the sex scene. xD)

Pairing: No outbreak old man!Joel x Reader

CW: Joel being bold, dirty talk. That's it <3

No beta, we die like lonely writers xD

It wasn’t a bad job.

Sarah wanted to hire you to take care of her father, Joel. He wasn’t that old, but years of hard work in construction gave him some mobility issues. Sarah worried he spent too time alone, and that he could fall, get hurt and trapped without help because of his pride (which seemed to be a real possibility, considering Joel didn’t want to lose his independence in any way).

You were supposed to get the night shift, which was nice. The night shift was calm, except when it wasn’t. Sarah assured you she talked to her father, she wanted to introduce you to him, before you started working.

You prepared for war, if the man was as stubborn and grumpy as his daughter described.

Sarah introduced you and the old man looked at you over his glasses.

“You sure this pretty thing can lift me off the floor?” He asked, a crooked smirk stretching his lips. You considered answering him, but he raised his face defiantly and winked.

He was teasing his daughter.

You chuckled, to Joel’s delight. Sarah hired you on the spot.

***

Joel was grumpy most of the time. You could understand. Getting older was specially hard on some people. Losing their independence seemed to be a horrifying blow.

You admired the family pictures displayed on the walls and the bookshelves. They showed a younger Joel, large and proud, wearing tight tshirts that showed his big arms.

He didn’t change much, to be honest. His hair now was completely silver, as his beard. The wrinkles didn’t spoil his roguish smile. He was on his seventies, but looked younger, somehow. You blamed his brown eyes.

***

“You know what I miss most about my youth?” He said softly one day, entering the living room. You were looking at his pictures. He slowly moved by your side and placed a hand over your back, rubbing gentle circles. “All the pussy.”

You turned to him, astonished at his boldness. He smirked, then shrugged. You felt your face getting warm and a different, slick, syrupy warmth pooling on your lower belly. He licked his lips and sighed.

“It was easy to get pussy with those looks.” He pointed at one picture of himself and smiled proudly. “Didn’t fuck as much as I wanted, or as much as I could. Tried to be a good dad. Don’t regret anything, but... Oh boy, I miss it.” He looked you up and down, his smile turning appreciative.

“Thought old pervs like you liked tiny thin teenagers.” You scoffed.

“Only dumbasses want those.” Joel chuckled, his hand sliding lower on your back. “I like them older. Like you. With those eyes, like you know and did everything under the sun.” Joel hums, closing his eyes. “Get them cockdumb and they cry so sweetly… Mmmm, the surprise in their wide eyes...” He licks his lips, watching your reaction. You laugh, trying to hide your own arousal.

“Well, Joel, I think the preference is because they are supposed to be tight.” You said firmly, standing your ground. You refused to look shocked, and you saw no reason to scold him, at least not yet. Maybe it was your pussy talking.

Joel leaned over you slowly; you stayed very still. His warm breath tickled your ear.

“After a certain size, honey, everything feels tight.” He said softly, grabbing his half hard cock through his pants. You looked down and gasped, noticing the girth of his bulge inside his huge hand. Joel stepped back, smiling proudly, and moved into the house, dragging his feet. “Lemme know if you want a ride, sweetheart. Them blue pills are easy to get.” He turned and winked at you.

[navybrat817]

Would ceo Bucky and his girl attend the met gala? If so, any ideas on dresses perhaps!

They would, nonnie! As far as the dress, it would depend on the theme. Are we talking recent theme, a past theme, or a made up general theme?

Goes With the Theme

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks his suit goes with a gala theme. You slightly disagree. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Established relationship, banter, flirting, implied sex, implied breeding, brief mention of past insecurities and bad ex, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you. A/N: I blame @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer. Before our couple has Cupcake and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky refused to tell you in advance what he was wearing to the upcoming gala. He said something about him wanting to surprise you. Of course, he knew exactly what you were wearing since he wanted the designer to make you a gown fit for a queen. He would’ve thrown in a tiara if you asked. It was too much, really.

But if you asked Bucky, nothing was too much for you.

The amount of money spent was just about worth it when he exited the bathroom and looked ready to drop to his knees when you spotted you in your dress. The colors suited you. The fit was like a glove. It was a work of art, really.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue as you carefully twirled. It was exactly the reaction you wanted. “How exactly am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight? A man can only take so much.”

“Because a lot went into this dress and you’re not allowed to tear apart,” you smiled before you took in his appearance.

Bucky Barnes turned head wherever he went and the head to toe black ensemble would be no exception. The slicked back hair was a good look on him and there was no denying that your man knew how to accessorize. He also wore enough custom suits for you to know what did and didn’t suit him. He would never fail to make you stop in your tracks from a single stare.

The man never missed a thing though, regarding you carefully as you stared. “You don’t like what I’m wearing,” he stated.

“No, I love it,” you assured him. And you did. You didn’t want him to think otherwise since the man could turn a paper bag into a thing of art and beauty if he chose to. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” He asked, holding his jacket open so you could get a glimpse of the shirt beneath molded to his torso. “I think I look good.”

You blinked and took a breath so you could answer him. Why did he have to be so distracting? “Not like you need the ego boost, but yes. You do look good,” you said. His smirk almost made you lose your breath again. “But does it really go with the theme?”

“What?” He shrugged. “Isn’t the theme ‘floral’?”

“It is and flowers are usually bright,” you pointed out. “You couldn't have gone with a floral jacket?”

“This is my interpretation of the theme.” He pointed to one of the black flowers. “Besides, this is a flower and it’s on my jacket. Therefore, it's a floral jacket.”

You tried not to smile. It was tough to argue with that logic. “Okay. Yes. There are flowers on your jacket, but-”

He cut you off with a smug smile. “So, I'm right.”

And wasn’t it just like a CEO to argue like this? And wasn’t it just like you to enjoy it? “You’re utterly ridiculous,” you giggled, gesturing to yourself. “Not to mention, I'm pretty much wearing the opposite of you!”

“And people will still know we’re together, Mrs. Barnes,” he winked. You loved being his wife. “Do you know why I wore this?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because a black suit? Any man can wear one. I’ll blend in with the crowd. But you in your gown? All eyes will be on you, as they should be,” he explained, your cheeks hot as he swept his gaze over you. “And I know I won’t take my eyes off you for a second tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, clearing your throat at the unexpected tears that clogged it. Your ex tried to make you feel bad about your body when all Bucky wanted to do was celebrate and worship it. More than that, he saw your beauty beneath the surface. “Thank you.”

Though you wanted to argue that Bucky wouldn’t blend in with the crowd. It wasn’t possible. He was too striking for that with his blue eyes and jawline. Too dominant with his large body. And too well known.

He didn’t care about that kind of attention. He was the kind of man who wanted to show you off. Not as a prize or because you were his, but because he loved you.

His eyes softened before they went dark again. “Fuck, you are so beautiful. A goddess,” he said, his voice rough as he stepped toward you. “We may not even make the gala.”

As much as his compliment warmed your heart, boosted your confidence, and dampened your panties, you shook your head. “Oh, no. Don't you even think about it. Do you know how long it took me to get into this dress? That doesn’t include perfecting my makeup. We are going.”

You nearly lost your nerve when he groaned and took another step toward you. That sound was one of your favorites, especially when it was your mouth, hand, or pussy drawing it out of him. “Cupcake, you’re always a vision. You don’t need a fancy dress or a stitch of makeup to be beautiful,” he said, licking his lips. “And you don’t need to wear a stitch of clothing right now either.”

“No.” You firmly pointed a finger at him. You were lucky he didn’t grab your wrist to kiss it. “You promised we'd make an appearance and the last thing you need to do is tell people we didn't show because you couldn't keep it in your pants for a few hours.”

The kicked puppy dog expression was one you had seen on Steve Rogers before, but it was adorable on Bucky. You held your chin high because you’d fall into his arms if you didn’t. “Fine,” he conceded, gripping your chin with infinite care. “But I make no promises that I'll behave in the limo on the way home.”

You’d enjoy your small victory over your handsome CEO and husband for the time being because he’d make you pay for it in the best way later. “Yes, Boss.”

“My perfect wife,” he whispered, delicately moving his hand along the column of your throat. Did he feel how fast your heart beat? “I may just have to knock you up before the night’s over, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your womb clenched at his words, imagining the filthy things he’d grunt in your ear as he bred you. It was almost enough to make you skip the gala, but why not build up the anticipation? “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t, Mr. Barnes,” you said, moving close enough for your lips to touch his.

The breath that rushed out of his lungs was like a kiss, teasing what would come before the night was over. “Don’t tease me, Cupcake.”

“Who said I was teasing you, Boss?” You murmured, pulling back before he could kiss you properly. “Time to go.”

He swore under his breath as he adjusted his pants. You were the only one who could get under his skin. “I’ll knock you up in the limo. Don’t test me.”

Your smile widened. What Bucky didn’t know was that underneath your dress was one of his favorite lacy floral numbers. A surprise and reward for him going to the gala. It would make him fall a little bit more in love with you once he undressed you.

Plus, it went with the theme.

“Looking forward to it.”

Another out of order AU. I'm so sorry, lovelies. And sorry to the nonnie for not fully answering the question! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yanf4iry]

don’t you think, pet? ♡

wc 827

yandere(ish)! capitano x afab bratty! reader

subtle yandere themes. hints at friends with benefits. jealous! capitano. aggressive! capitano. slightly bratty reader. hair tugging. ‘pet’ used a couple times. unprotected sex (pls be safe!). afab autonomy. kinich mentioned. its only short so there isn't much to tag lol.

"what did i tell you about wandering around with all those other boys? hmm?" capitano mumbles, his breath tickling up against the sensitive skin behind your ear, hands trailing down to hold you in place; even his subtle grip being strong enough to do so.

"i've told you already," you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly, growing slightly tired of his possessive and jealous behaviour. "i was just hanging out with kinich, i don't see him like that."

"and i've told you already," capitano trails off, mimicking your previous choice of words, "i don't care how you see him, because i see how he looks at you," he continues, grip getting tighter as his voice progressively turns into a low-toned growl.

he was thankful for the current predicament you were both in; the dining table in front of you made it so easy for him to push you and bend you over, whilst his tall figure was shadowing behind you, making sure there was no room for you to try worm your way out.

and so here you are, chest and face pressed against the cold, wooden surface. capitano gutting as he starts to fumble with your belt and the buttons on your trousers; his slender fingers making work of them.

"i don't like you 'hanging out' with him," he proclaims possessively, "and i also don't like you wearing these trousers, they make my access to you so much harder," capitano adds, huffing as he finally managed to yank them down along with your freshly damp panties.

"you can't control everything i do, you know?" you answer back, voice oozing with disobedience, before gasping slightly at the feeling of the cold air on your slick folds. "you're not my boyfriend."

that comment made him suck his breath in sharply, growing more annoyed by the second. no, he wasn't your boyfriend (yet) but that doesn't mean you weren't his, and that doesn't mean he wasn't going to put you in your place every time you acted out.

"i don't care," he grits through his teeth. "i'm the one that's going to teach you some manners since you obviously don't know how to follow orders, pet."

you'd be lying if you said seeing him like this didn't turn you on; because it did. good god, it did. you knew exactly how to get on his nerve, and you fucking loved the reaction you got from it. capitano was well aware you did these things on purpose as well, yet somehow fell for it every time and couldn't help but let his jealousy get the best of him.

without even giving you time to think, his fingers were trailing against the most inner parts of your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin around there, causing you to tremble subtly. "shit.." you breathe out.

"your lack of patience is aberrant," capitano scolds, slapping the inside of your thigh with some force. "and to think i thought you had manners; you'll get whatever i want to give you, when i want to give it."

you could hear the echoes of clunking and fidgeting once more, and that was when your wetness was met with the tip of his cock, him teasingly brushing it against you; a mewl being forced from your lips. "patience.." he whispers, leaning forward so his mouth was hovering just behind your ear once more.

the thickness of his tip parts your folds, covering himself in your wetness. you sigh in exasperation, pushing yourself back against him. capitano gripped your waist bruisingly tight in one quick motion, halting your actions almost immediately. "have you gone deaf?" he growls, fingernails digging into your skin.

"you'll get whatever i want to give you," he starts up, a low grunt leaving his lips, "when i want to give it to you."

"or i can leave.." you trail off, mischief riddled in your tone before a playful smirk appears on your face; even though he couldn't see it due to your face being pressed against the table, it was apparent from how you spoke. "maybe.. maybe kinich wants to give me what i-"

you weren't even able to finish your sentence, capitano pushed himself up against your entrance and pushed himself in, causing you to moan. a noise he much preferred over you threatening him with running off to another man for pleasure.

"did you really think i'd ever let you finish that fucking sentence?"

his thrusts were harsh, almost violent in a way as he claimed what he believed. no, what he knew, was his. "don't you ever let me hear anything like that nonsense leaving your mouth, ever again? you hear me?" he questions, hand moving to your hair, tugging on it tightly.

"about time i fucked some manners into you.." capitano grunts against your ear, nipping at it slightly with the sharpness of his teeth, enjoying the choked-out moans escaping your gaped lips. "don't you think, pet?"

"because you're mine. only mine."