#and not a drop on his nice white robes
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Where'd Karim get all that wine?
#and not a drop on his nice white robes#the dragon prince#tdp#karim#tdp spoilers#tdp karim#giveusthesaga#continuethesaga
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Have you ever tried… This position?
Aaron Hotchner x F! Reader
Mentions of: Sex, P in V (wrap it b4 you tap it), riding (SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY YEEHAW), oral (M! Receiving), not proofread we die like men
!!!NSFW/MINORSS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!
One thing you had come to realize since your relationship with the BAUs Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was that without a doubt, he was a very dominant man. He’d soften up when he’d come home from work and see Jack, but in bed? The dominance continued, not that you were complaining but you had spent many lonely nights wondering what it would be like to be on top just once, would he lose his composure? What noises would he make?
You sighed, once again losing focus on the book you were reading, letting out a groan of frustration and tossing the book on the couch, you were losing your mind over something so trivial, you loved being under him, but the thought of being the one on top had you spiraling, you had to experience it at least once and then you’d stop obsessing over it. Standing up from the couch, you had made a decision, thankfully Jack was away at his aunts house for the night, and Aaron was coming tonight from a rather difficult case, you had made up your mind, your were going to ride this man like if your life depended on it.
You had it all planned out, hopping out of the shower, you blow dried and styled your hair, and slipped on your favorite lingerie, a baby blue lace babydoll nightgown with matching lace panties, one night during a girls night with the BAU girls, you had confessed that you had a thing for buying pretty lingerie, you never really had the chance to wear them though, because Aaron always cut right to the chase, always taking you to the room and commanding you to strip with that dominant tone. You did your makeup subtly, and dolled yourself up with some jewelry, spraying his favorite perfume you own, and slipping a short silk white robe on top. Looking at the time, you realized you still had more than enough time to cook dinner and set up the table.
The sound of the door opening and keys being dropped into the bowl by the door signalled that Aaron was finally home, you slipped out of the kitchen and met him at the door, “Hi honey, how was the case?” You murmured as you wrapped your arms around him, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, his arm wrapped around your back as he returned the kiss, “A bit tiring, but we managed to catch the unsub, how are you? Where’s Jack?” He asked, looking around, waiting for Jack to come out and welcome him home. “Jack is having a sleepover with Jessica tonight, said something about a movie night.” You smiled softly, “Come to the table, I just finished making dinner, it’s your favorite.” Turning around, you walked off to the kitchen, his eyes finally raked over your body, breath hitching at the fact that you were wearing the smallest silk robe that looked so nice against your body, he could feel himself growing hard, if only he knew what was under.
He walked into the kitchen, the smell of a home cooked meal making him smile, he loved you more than you could ever know, and seeing you do something so domestic such as serving him food truly made him appreciate just how much you did for him and Jack. He wrapped his arms around you as you began serving the food onto plates, “All right, what’s the big idea hm? Cooking my favorite meal, and looking so pretty, what did I do to deserve this?” You let out a giggle, throwing your head back against him, taking in the fact he was home, “nothing, just wanted to show you how much I missed you, I also happened to have a lot of free time today.” A chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, “Honey you spoil me, takeout and a movie would have been just fine, unless, there’s an ulterior motive for this?” He said, his hand stopping at the tie on your waist. Setting the plate down on the counter, you froze, had he really found you out? Turning around and looking at him with a pout, “Me? Ulterior motive? You wound me Aaron. But maybe I suppose you might be right.” You murmured sensually, turning around and pressing a kiss to his neck, he let out a low hum as he gripped your waist. “I think dinner can wait a little longer, I think I’m hungry for something else.” He said, his voice deep and wanting.
In an instant, his hands were at the tie of your robe, loosening it, a groan fought its way out of his throat at the sight of your lingerie that he was not expecting, his eyes raking down your body, he took in how well the lingerie hugged your curves, he licked his lips, “God you look so fucking pretty baby, this all for me?” You nodded your head, “Why don’t we go to the room?” You said turning around and walking to your shared room, swaying your hips, his pupils dilated, taking in the sight of your ass, he palmed his now achingly hard cock, ridding himself of his shoes and following you to the room. He closed the door behind himself and the moment the door closed he was on you, bringing your body against his, his erection pressed against your ass as you let out a mewl, you wanted to submit to him right then and there, but you remembered the task at hand.
You turned him around so that his back was facing the bed, you pressed your lips to his and walked him backward til his legs hit the end of the bed. Aaron sat down, you dropped down, knees on the floor, looking up at him through your lashes, you began to palm his hard cock through his slacks, a low rumble sounding in his throat, you smiled at him, “Aaron your so handsome.” You murmured, “Especially like this.” You breathed, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks, bringing them down enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth always watered at the sight of Aaron’s cock, long and girthy, the tip red and angry, with a pearl of precum adorning it, you licked a long strip from base to tip, before taking his tip in your mouth, a sigh escaping from him as he tangled his hands in your mouth. “You always look so pretty, but your so gorgeous when you have my cock in your mouth.” You moaned around his cock at his praise, taking more of him in your mouth, you bobbed your head up and down, groans and sighs escaping his mouth at the feeling of you giving him head.
You loved riling him up by sucking his cock, the weight of his cock in your mouth never failed to get you wet, the heady taste never failing to make you so needy, you took a deep breath, before swallowing his cock to the base, a moan escaped his throat as his hand tightened in your hair. You pulled off of him, a string of saliva and precum the only thing connecting you to his cock, the string snapped and you wiped it as you stood up, straddling Aaron, bringing your lips to his desperately, your tongues clashing and spit slipping from the corners of your mouths, you grinded yourself against his hard cock, a gasp escaping you at the feeling of cock pressing against your clothed pussy, “Fuck Aaron, wanna ride you so bad.” You whined, circling your hips, he let out a breathy chuckle, “Is that what this is about baby? Wanna ride my cock?” You nodded, a whimper falling from your mouth as he grabbed your ass roughly. “Yea, wanna fuck myself on your cock baby.” You pulled your panties to the side, too desperate to completely pull them off, you moaned at the feeling of your bare pussy against his cock, you bucked your hips at the feeling, your head finding a place on his shoulder.
You heard a dark chuckle before you felt a hand tangling in your hair and pulling you upright, forcing you to stare at Aaron, “If your gonna ride my cock, your gonna fucking look at me while you do it, you can be a good girl and do that right?” You nodded vigorously, whimpering at the feeling of your hair being pulled, you lifted yourself, lining his cock up with your entrance, and dropping yourself down on his cock in one movement, a gasp fought its way out of your throat, you knew Aaron was big, and usually when he’s on top he fucks you so good, but the feeling of being on top and the fullness you felt was something you could have never imagined, you threw your head back, trying to regain your composure, Aaron littered kisses against your neck, “Breathe baby, eyes on me.” He murmured, encircling his arm around your waist, you took a deep breath, and looked at him, the sight of him under you was exactly what you wanted, heavy panting and lidded eyes, you clenched around his cock at just the sight of him looking so fucking sexy. He let out a growl, his thumb digging into your side at the feeling of you clenching around him.
You pressed your forehead to his, staring into his eyes as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down, moans coming from both of you as you began bouncing on his cock, “F-Fuck you look so pretty like this, all ruined over my cock.” He was panting, his hand on the small of your back guiding you to rock your hips back and forth, the action causing friction on your clit, you clenched around him once more, a wanton mewl slipping from you, you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him back til his back was on the bed, you continued rocking your hips against him, “Mmm, Aaron feels s’good, fuck your so big.” You were a mess on top of him, you had spent so much time thinking about how it would feel to be on top, and now that you had it, it was indescribable, you were in your own little world, relishing in the feeling of how deep Aaron was, Aaron planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you, a scream tore from your throat, instantly losing your balance and tumbling into his chest as he continued pounding into you from below, moans and cries of ecstasy falling from your lips.
“A-Ah Aaron, gonna cum!” Tears were trickling down from the pleasure he was giving you, you met his thrusts, bouncing up and down, chasing your high, your hand on his abdomen, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap, “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me hm? That’s what you wanted right? To cum while you were riding me? Go ahead baby” He murmured, holding off his release so you could let go first. A choked sob came from you when he brought his hand down to your clit, your orgasm washed over you, waves and waves of pleasure, your thighs trembled and you clenched tightly around him, the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly triggered his own orgasm, hot ropes of white cum staining your insides, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you both came down from your highs, Aaron let out a chuckle, “So this is what you got all pretty for? You wanted to ride me?” You hid your face in his neck, “It’s been on my mind since you left for the case, and it was frustrating me. Had to do something about it.” You mumbled.
He rubbed your back lovingly, “Cmon, let’s go shower and go eat dinner.” You laughed softly, “Oh now you care about dinner?” You smiled up at him, “I cared about dinner from the moment I got home, you just distracted me honey.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, he pulled out of you, you whined at the loss and grimaced at the feeling of his cum leaking out, he stood up, picking you up bridal style and taking you to shower, but to no surprise, he fucked you in the shower, saying something along the lines of ‘having to thank you for riding him’. Lying down in bed, thoroughly satisfied, you looked at him, a smile gracing his features, “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down and kissing you softly, “I love you too.” You said as you snuggled into him, basking in the post sex haze.
When Aaron went into the office the next morning looking well-rested and in a good mood, Morgan patted him on the back, “Had a good night last huh?” Morgan teased, smirk on his face, Aaron smirked back “A very good night indeed.”
#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader smut
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧
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18+ MINORS DNI
a/n: smut that was requested for kinktober last year
summary: dark!nat, dom!nat, g!p nat; nat’s an assassin
warnings: blood, murder, weapons, semi-public sex, choking, belly bulge, gagging (?), implied breeding kink. i don't even know at this point
word count: 4.4k
✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷
>> The Black Widow is known for its striking appearance and deadly mating habits. After mating, the female sometimes kills and consumes its mate, a behavior that has made it infamous. This act of cannibalism, though not guaranteed, has earned the Black Widow a reputation as a dangerous and cold-blooded predator. <<
Natasha wipes her hands as she steps back from the bed. A sliced throat and widened, empty eyes. Mouth open in a silent gasp, fingers loose, chest unmoving. Blood has soaked into the once white bedsheets, a dark crimson color that almost appears black. She examines her work with appreciative eyes, then she swiftly cleans the blade of the knife with the man's silk robe.
She turns around, taking in the bedroom once more — velvet armchairs, placed next to a small table with a bottle of whiskey on it. Framed artwork by well-known artists, an antique clock on the wall. Timeless luxury, way too nice for someone like him. No trace of his connection to the Red Room. Not a single sign of the suffering he's caused.
A box of jewelry catches her eye. She never leaves without a souvenir, so she pops open the lid and fishes out a diamond ring. One that you'll surely like; you always value her little gifts.
Natasha exits the house just like she entered it: deftly, quietly, and without leaving any cue that she was ever there.
. . .
You look up when the door to your apartment opens. It's long after midnight, the kids dressed in costumes have disappeared from the streets hours ago and you have been wondering where your girlfriend is.
"Hey", you say when she enters, eyes raking over her. A black bandana is covering her entire face except for her eyes — piercing green, burrowing into your soul with a kind of ease that's both impressive and unsettling —, and her hands are covered by fingerless gloves. You don't miss the smudges of blood on her fingertips.
"I brought you something", Natasha says, not bothering to greet you first. She plucks a ring out of the pocket of her leather jacket, dropping it into your open palm. "Not sure if it's your style."
You slide it onto your ring finger and inspect it, giving a short hum. So this is where she was.
"It's nice." A blatant lie, but you don't care. Who are you to reject something she gives you?
"It's 'nice'?" She tugs the bandana off, unveiling her face, all while keeping firm eye contact with you. "That's it?"
"It's pretty", you add, watching her move around the room. Natasha seems completely unfazed, just like always. You're not an idiot — you know damn well what she does, where she goes. You know she keeps adding to the long list of victims she hides so well, but you can't bring yourself to care. A messed up part of you even thinks it's hot. "Expensive, too."
"Expensive my ass. You know the material value doesn't matter." She opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, taking a few sips. "What've you been up to all night?"
"Ate dinner. Watched a few movies." You join her in the kitchen, watching her leave bloody fingerprints on the glass bottle.
Natasha hums, turning her head to look at you. Sweatpants, a loose top, looking all tired and ready for bed. She puts the bottle aside before moving closer, backing you into the corner of the kitchen counter.
"Sounds boring", she says quietly, her hands coming up to rest on your waist. More blood, this time staining your clothes. She looks down at your hand, at your ring finger, where the expensive piece of jewelry is sitting. Something about her expression changes — suddenly, it looks stony, bordering on rough. "You know, I don't like this ring on you. It should be in a box somewhere, not on your finger."
You pause at the irritation in her voice. For a moment, you're confused — she brought you this ring, so why is she suddenly pissed? But then the realization hits you, and you start feeling stupid.
She isn't the one who picked this ring out, who bought it for you — so you shouldn't wear it.
"I'll take it off", you say quietly, sliding the ring off your finger and setting it on the counter behind you. "It's not exactly my size, anyway."
Natasha hums, the tension seeping out of her body. She's loving it. The way you're looking at her, like she's your savior and your worst nightmare wrapped up into one. Your voice, meek and soft, with that perfect pinch of fear. She's doing this to you, she's the one who has full control over you.
"You should've joined me", she suddenly says, reminding you of what she's been up to tonight. You pause, eyes filled with uncertainty as you look at her.
"I'm not exactly sure it's my type of activity", you say vaguely, a hint of an apology in your voice.
"Oh really?" She hums, her fingertips brushing under the fabric of your top. "I'm sure it'd be fun. Watch the life drain out of their eyes and whatnot. A really romantic setting."
"Right." You smile slightly as she presses a kiss to your mouth. A taste like spiced honey, sweet with a slow-burning warmth. Cinnamon and cloves, fogging your senses. You push against her, wanting more, but she pulls away.
"Don't be needy", Natasha says, giving you a small smirk before stepping away. "There's this party tomorrow. Are you joining?"
"Is it an after-Halloween thing?", you ask, straightening out your top as you try to ignore the desire coursing through you. Nothing is going to happen tonight, that's almost certain.
"Not really. Just a party."
"Where?"
Her eyes flicker up, amusement and exasperation visible in them. "It's just a party, babe. Now tell me: are you joining?"
You sigh, leaning against the counter. You eye her with mild suspicion — who knows where she'll end up dragging you — but eventually, you cave. "Yeah, sure. Why not."
"Good." She nods, shrugging off her jacket. She's only wearing a tank top underneath, despite the cold fall air, but you're secretly very thankful — her arms come into view, biceps flexing slightly and way too briefly. Then she looks up again, and your gaze meet hers. "Wear something nice."
. . .
Wear something nice — an innocent enough request, but when Natasha says something like this, it has an entirely different meaning.
You spend two hours in front of your closet, digging through dresses and skirts and whatever you have in there. Eventually, you decide on a mesh dress in a dark shade of plum, a rich muteness in its color. A square neck and thin shoulder straps, curve-hugging and leaving little to the imagination. You slip it on, adjusting it slightly without noticing that Natasha is watching you from the doorway.
"Not bad", she finally says, making you turn around. "May I suggest something?"
You watch her as she comes closer, arms wrapping around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. "What?"
"Ditch the bra", she mumbles against your ear, briefly kissing it. "Underwear too, while you're at it."
You pause, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You want me to...?"
"You heard me, didn't you?"
You hum, looking at her through the mirror. Natasha shoots you an expecting look, her hand lightly squeezing your tummy.
"The fabric is quite thin, you know", you say quietly, hoping that'll get her to change her mind. But she just shrugs, still kneading your flesh.
"Fine", you eventually say, causing her lips to twitch into a small, satisfied smirk. She presses a kiss to your shoulder before stepping away again, her one hand shoving into the pocket of her slacks. "Can you at least tell me what your plan is?"
"No", she says innocently, grabbing her gun from the desk before she steps towards the door again. "It'd ruin the surprise."
"Right", you say slowly, watching her leave.
. . .
You didn't mind your lack of underwear while you were at home, or in the car. But now that you're in a crowded room, surrounded by what seems like hundreds of people, you start feeling flustered. You feel exposed, like everyone can see right through you. Which, of course, isn't the case — the dress is definitely long enough to conceal your lack of underwear, and even the fact that you're not wearing a bra isn't as obvious as you thought it'd be. But you know you're not wearing underneath that stupid dress, and that's enough for you to be mildly uncomfortable.
Natasha, however, is loving it. Her arm stays firmly wrapped around your waist as you enter, keeping you close to her side. Her eyes flicker across the room, almost as if she's searching for someone.
"So?", you ask after a few minutes, glancing at her.
"What?", she murmurs reluctantly.
"Well-" You vaguely gesture at your surroundings, still not sure what you're doing here. "Where are we? Whose party is this?"
"Oh." She smirks, squeezing your side before she mumbles into your ear. "If I tell you, you'll leave."
"Of course", you mutter, shifting again and pulling at your dress to readjust it. Natasha notices your unease, so she lightly digs her fingertips into your side.
"Calm down", she mumbles with her mouth next to your ear, her voice low and dark. "No one can see anything. Stop fidgeting."
You huff quietly, reluctantly releasing your dress from your hands. "It's uncomfortable", you complain, a hint of defiance seeping through. Natasha arches her eyebrow at you, leaning in closer as her fingertips dig into your skin.
"Is that attitude I detect?"
You stare at her, quickly intimidated. You shake your head, forcing your expression to be neutral again as you back down. You're in public, but that doesn't mean you should be stepping out of line. "My bad."
Natasha hums, her hand sliding down to your butt for a moment. A light squeeze of approval, then she keeps dragging you through the crowd. So many people, all of them clearly wealthy. Businesspeople, probably — but you're not sure, and Natasha still refuses to tell you.
She doesn't seem to know anyone, either. A few people introduce themselves to the two of you, but you barely pay any attention. Some guy, maybe in his 50s, stops with the obvious intention of raking his eyes over you a few times. You're fully aware why — it's just the tiniest bit too cold, and the thin fabric of your dress is doing a poor job at hiding your discomfort.
When he reaches out his hand to shake yours, Natasha's eyes narrow. It's one step too far, you both know that, so you quickly pretend to be busy with brushing some hair behind your ear and swiftly avoid touching him. He pauses, startled, before pulling his hand back and going back to whatever he was doing before approaching you.
"Quite the move", she says quietly, her voice appreciative, and rubs your side. "Good girl."
You smile, pleased that you managed to satisfy her.
The people milling around the party stop you every now and then, trying to make small talk. Natasha forces herself to engage in polite conversation, her hand wrapped around your waist the whole time. She notices everyone's eyes trailing over your body, not-so-subtle glances and very obvious stares. It's irritating her, which shows in the way her voice changes.
"You seem to be quite popular with the men."
"It's the damn dress", you mutter, your body slightly turned towards her as you keep pushing past smaller groups.
"No", Natasha says gruffly, her hand firm on your waist. The dress may be revealing, accentuating all the right spots, displaying smooth skin. But in the end, the dress is just a dress. "It's you."
You feel your cheeks growing rosy. Clearing your throat, you start adjusting your dress again in hopes to keep the fact that you're currently going commando underneath it concealed. "Maybe both."
Natasha's hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and stopping you from fidgeting. She pulls your hand away from the fabric, her grip firm and unwavering. "Stop fidgeting. We've been over this already."
You give a frustrated huff, shooting one of the staring men an angry, petulant glare. He lifts his hands in defeat, turning around and returning to the woman he was talking to seconds earlier. "I hate the male species."
"Careful, baby", she says, trying to suppress a smirk. Something about the way you lifted your chin in defiance, silently telling the man to fuck off, pleased her immensely. "Let's not cause a scene, hm?"
You hum at her words, your eyes flitting up to meet hers again. You shrug, glancing at the gun that's subtly tucked into her holster and hidden by her blazer. "Why not?", you ask, bringing your mouth closer to her ear. "Causing a scene is your specialty."
"True." She grabs your chin with her free hand, pushing your face away from hers. "Still, I'd rather we get out of here soon. But first —" She pauses, subtly nodding at a man who she's been watching the entire night, "we need to make a detour."
We? Wait, we? You stare at Natasha as her words replay in your head, over and over again and slowly causing you to grow sick to your stomach. A detour. You should've known what that fucking gun was for. Maybe you were in denial.
"We, as in-"
"We as in we", she says impatiently, briefly looking at you. "I need someone to keep watch. There are too many people here for my liking."
No room for argument, that's for sure. You exhale shakily, trying to calm your quickly accelerating heartbeat. "At least tell me who they are."
"No. The less you know, the better."
"Natasha", you say seriously. Surprised by the sudden hardness of your voice — and, also, mildly annoyed —, she grabs your wrist and yanks you closer. A wince escapes you, but you keep talking anyway, your voice a pained whisper. "If I'm involved in this, I at least want to know whether he deserves it."
Her eyes flicker across your face. She's not bothering to hide how unhappy she is with you right now. "He deserves it", she says, keeping her fingers locked around your wrist. "Now stop questioning me and do as told."
Reluctantly, you nod. Natasha turns her attention to the guy again, watching him. She quickly fishes out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. Moments later, the man excuses himself and starts heading towards a hallway. Natasha pulls you along wordlessly, eyes trained on her target as he disappears down the dark corridor.
He enters an office, the door closing behind him with a soft 'click'. Natasha lets go of you as she reaches for the doorknob.
"Wait here and keep watch."
She doesn't even bother glancing at you before she slips into the office, shutting the door after her.
For an agonizingly long moment, you hear nothing. Utter silence, apart from the sounds coming from the party and your own quiet, ragged breathing. Your heart is thumping in your chest, and you're unable to focus on anything else but trying not to freak out.
When you hear a gunshot — too quiet for anyone else to hear, but definitely loud enough for you to perceive it —, you finally snap out of it. Eyes wide, heart hammering, you turn around.
Hand on the doorknob, twisting it. Pushing the door open.
You look at Natasha, taking her in — no, drinking her in. The blood splattered across her neck and chest, the way her eyes look almost black. Her slightly uneven breathing, the gun in her hand. A smell of gunpowder, acrid and strong, mixed with something metallic and sharp. Adrenaline is pumping through her veins, the tension in the room palpable when your gazes meet.
You didn't expect to feel this way, but you can sense the heat that's beginning to stir in your stomach. Anxiety gives way to desire when she reaches out her hand — a silent command to come over — and you cross the room in a few, quick steps.
Natasha tugs you closer, her lips brushing against your cheek. "Look at the mess I've made", she says quietly, and you follow her gaze to the man lying on the ground. You look at her again — blood splattered across her chest and neck, her eyes trained on you.
You bring your hand up to wipe away a bit of blood that landed on her jaw. "It's hot", you eventually manage to mumble.
"Hm?" She raises her eyebrows, her hands sliding to the small of your back. "Didn't know you were into that."
"Me neither." You wrap your arms around her neck as you nuzzle your nose against hers, your desires clear. It's rare that you're this forward with her, but for the first time in a while, Natasha doesn't seem to mind. She can feel herself getting hard already, your perfume and everything you've said making her head spin.
"Such a little minx", she rasps out, palming at your sides as she starts peppering kisses along your jaw. "Can't believe this shit turns you on. You're fucking insane."
A soft moan slips past your lips. You lift your leg out of instinct, hugging your thigh against her side. Natasha quickly runs her hand down to the underside of your thigh, gripping and massaging the smooth skin. "Fuck me", you whine into her ear, wiping all thoughts out of her brain.
With one swift movement, she clears all the papers and pens off the desk. Then she grabs your thighs, hoisting you up and letting you drop down onto the desk. Her lips are all over you immediately, mouthing at your neck and leaving her marks.
"So greedy", she pants against your skin. Her hands slide up your thighs, pushing up your dress and bunching it up around your hips. "Tell me what you want."
"You", you somehow manage to gasp out. You're hot and flushed all over, your breathing is ragged. A tight coil has started to form inside of you, sparks of need frying your brain into a lump of uselessness. Natasha hums, a quiet, rumbling sound coming from her chest, and moves one of her hands up into your hair. She grabs a fistful and tugs your head back, eliciting a whimpered moan from you.
"I need you to use your words, baby."
"Please." You squeeze your eyes shut, fully aware that you sound absolutely pathetic. "I want you inside of me."
A low groan escapes her. Natasha kisses your pulse point, her teeth grazing over the sensitive spot. "You're so desperate", she mumbles, finally letting go of you to unbuckle her belt. "Begging to be filled up like a whore."
You stifle a sound of want, feeling like you've been set on fire. You bury your face against her neck when she pulls you closer again, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over her skin. A metallic taste of blood, mixed with the bitterness of her perfume. A quiet sigh morphs into a low moan when she slides her fingers through your cunt, gathering wetness.
"Soaked already", she mutters, lifting her hand and slips her fingers past your lips. You suck them into your mouth, tasting yourself on her fingers as you lap at them. Her eyes darken at the sight — so simple, yet there's something so erotic about it. Testing your limits, she pushes deeper and earns a soft gag from you. "Always so eager to please."
She shoves her fingertips against the back of your tongue. Another gag, this time louder, and you feel yourself tearing up. You can see Natasha through a blur of tears, watching the scene in front of her unfold with fascination, her eyes dark and her breathing heavy.
Satisfied, she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips.
"You're doing so well", she praises, grabbing your thighs to open you up. She's so hard she can barely think straight, her cock pressing against the fabric of her boxers almost painfully. "Now be a good girl and keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut."
When she finally inserts herself into you, it's like you're seeing stars. A quiet whimper manages to make it past your lips, which Natasha silences by pressing her lips to yours. A messy, uncoordinated kiss, teeth clashing and lips bruising. You feel her bite down on your bottom lip, soothing the spot with her tongue as she starts rolling her hips into yours.
Pained sounds escape you as she fills you up to the brim, stretching you out and making you feel like you're about to rip apart at the seams. She nudges deeper, and deeper, her hand moving to rest flat on your stomach and press down on the little bulge there. You're all but a mewling, whimpering mess, trying your best to stay silent but finding yourself unable to do so.
"So full." Natasha takes your hand and guides it to your lower abdomen, pressing it down and making you feel the outline of herself. The evidence of her inside of you, so tangible, so real. She's nestled so deep inside of you that you aren't sure where you end and where she begins anymore. Pain, pleasure, need; all coursing through your body, making a wave of tremors run through you. "Stuffed to the brim. Fucking slut."
"Please", you somehow manage to whimper, your eyes squeezed shut. Natasha scoffs, thrusting into you in a way that makes the desk shake underneath you. Your eyes snap open, the sensation somewhere between torture and pleasure.
"Eyes open", she commands, chest heaving and eyes darkened. The blood is smeared across her neck and chest, sending another spark of heat to your core. "Close them again and we're stopping this."
You bite back a moan, your hands grasping at her blazer to find some sort of anchor. She thrusts into you again, fingers gripping your hips and probably bruising the soft skin there. Trails of fire shoot through your veins, causing the coil of white heat in you to tighten. The look on your face — dazed, aching, so needy — makes Natasha let out a quiet curse. She dips her face into the crook of your neck, covering your skin in open-mouthed kisses.
Drilling her length into you, her hand reaching for your throat. Her fingers wrap around it, at first loose. But you let out a moan, one that borders on a whine, and she suddenly applies pressure. You choke out a gasp, eyes widening as you can't breathe in anymore. The lack of oxygen causes you to feel lightheaded, elevating every single sensation that you're experiencing.
Natasha smirks against your skin, loosening her grip. You gasp for breath, happy hormones flooding you and leaving a tingly feeling of exhilaration all over.
You get a weird kick out of this entire situation — someone who's caused so much damage and suffering, hovering above you and making you feel like this. Hands that slash throats open, that fire bullets at people without thinking twice, are now roaming your body like you're a piece of art that needs to be both worshipped and destroyed.
"I told you to stay quiet", she mutters, trailing kisses over the spots where her fingers were. "Such a shame you decided not to listen."
You suppress another noise that's threatening to escape you, instead opting for digging your fingertips into her back. Natasha curses again, feeling your nails even through the fabric of her clothes. She slips one of the straps of your dress down your shoulder, exposing more of you to her eyes. Her lips attach to the skin just above the neckline of your dress, sucking a hickey into it.
Her lips travel lower, all while she keeps moving in and out of you repeatedly. Quick, heavy breathing, the legs of the desk scraping over the hardwood floor. Her mouth wraps around your hardened nipple, biting down on it. Your head falls back onto the surface of the desk and lolls to the side, your eyes meeting the gun Natasha discarded just moments ago. Blood is covering a family portrait in speckles, some of it having run down in thin streaks.
"Fuck", Natasha rasps, snapping you out of your dazed state. You wrap your thighs around her hips, tugging her closer and feeling her push against your deepest spots. You feel an ache in your core, pushing for its release, and you finally let another moan slip. But Natasha is too focused on being buried inside you, her cock swallowed whole by your dripping wet cunt, to even register the soft noise. "I'll come inside of you", she mumbles against your breast, lapping at it. "I'll get you nice and pregnant. You'll carry my babies."
You moan, trying to run your hands into her hair but failing due to her braid. "I love you", you whimper out, feeling yourself crumble. You're slowly falling apart, seconds away from that sweet release, and Natasha can tell immediately. She palms at your sides, her eyes looking up at you so she can watch.
"So trusting, so naive", she basically purrs through a mouthful of tit. "Letting yourself be knocked up by a killer. And I thought I was the messed up one."
"I'm close", you moan out, your hands hugging her face closer to your chest. "Please, I-"
"Doing so good, baby", she says breathily, releasing your breast and trailing kisses along the side of it. "So good."
Her hands move down to your thighs again, forcing them apart and nudging deeper. The second her tip pokes against your lower belly again, a wave of relief washes over you.
The orgasm crashes down on you, making you gasp out incoherent sounds. Your entire body is shaking, flushed with heat, and Natasha can feel you clench around her cock rhythmically. She buries her face against the side of your breast, muffled sounds escaping her as she comes inside of you. Thick, white fluid dribbles down your thighs, pooling on the desk underneath you.
Natasha keeps going until your vision goes black, her body rolling into yours and driving you to the point of overstimulation. You come a second time, only seconds later, and then slump onto the surface of the desk. You feel like you're one raw, exposed nerve, the aftershocks making your body buzz and your brain unable to function properly.
"Look at you", she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips as she reaches for her gun again. "Now I've made two messes."
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow#black widow x reader#marvel#marvel mcu#x reader#fanfic#wlw#lesbian#wlw smut#smut#oneshot#moon’s fics
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𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙀: Bath Sex w/ CEO!Bucky Barnes
a/n: hey so this embarrassing, but i was supposed to upload this yesterday and even then i procrastinated it LMAOOOO have mercy me!! here's the fic *i throw it and run the other way*
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
There was a clamor of the front door opening, shutting, some scuffling, followed by the unmistakable sound of Bucky’s shoes being dropped on the floor and finally… the sigh.
“I know that sound.” You speak with a grin from where you’re sitting comfortably on the large, white l-shaped leather couch, wine glass in hand and smothered in a fuzzy, cotton robe.
You watch the deep red swirl enchantingly as you spin the liquid in it gently.
A large hand wrapped itself loosely around your throat, coaxing your head back and your mouth to his. You breathe into the all consuming kiss, your eyes fluttering shut and body melting momentarily at the sheer relief of having him back home.
“Rough day?” You murmur quietly against his lips. His stubble scratches at your face as he hums in agreement and you squirm. “Sounds like you need some help relaxing,” You suggest with a soft smile.
“How about a bath? Would you like that?”
“Only if you join me.” Bucky finally speaks, and his voice is a rasp. You shiver in delight. “Of course.”
He pulls off of you with one last breath stealing kiss and an affectionate squeeze to your throat that leaves you pleasantly light-headed.
You don’t hesitate to set your glass down and follow him into your room, where you peep at him loosening his tie. You find yourself in your ridiculously lavish bathroom, bending over the bathtub to twist at the knobs. The thing could really be considered a jacuzzi, but you love it, so you digress.
There’s a large palm on your hip and you lean into his solid chest when you stand up, nuzzling your face into the side of his sharp jaw. He squeezes at the fat of your covered sides, trailing forward to tug at the belt holding it together.
Your nude body is easily revealed to the ever heating room, and a shiver finds its way down your spine. His fingers tug the material down your shoulders, the robe landing on the chilly, tiled floor quietly.
“So beautiful.” Bucky murmurs against your cheek.
Palms caress you innocently, just admiring and occasionally grabbing at a roll or one of your breasts. “Wait, wait, wait –” You giggle,“The water’s gonna overflow.” Bucky’s placing sweet kisses on the tender skin of your neck, and it’s taking everything in you to not fall into him.
“Forget about the water.” He mutters.
You allow him to place a couple more love bites on your skin before you finally peel away from him, spinning around to push him back gently.
“Get naked.” You demand softly, and he chuckles at your words, but nonetheless follows your instructions, picking at the buttons of his white collared shirt and shucking off his slacks and boxers.
You don’t have enough time to admire the newly exposed skin because he’s already placing his tense body into the warm water with a deep groan.
“Feel good?” You ask with a sweet grin, placing yourself in his lap.
The tub is just wide enough to fit you on top of him, but your knees dig slightly into the porcelain. You don’t mind it though, especially not when Bucky looks like he’s finally found some kind of relief.
“Mhm.” Bucky hums, and places his hands on your hips once more. You welcome the weight, your palms cupping the water to playfully pour it over his head. You smile at his scrunched nose as the water trickles down his face.
You can’t help but cup his cheeks at the sight of his relaxed expression, thumbing over his shadow and leaning down to connect your lips once more. He kisses you back immediately, and as always, all you can feel is him.
Kissing Bucky is like standing beneath a waterfall, everything goes quiet and all you know is what’s in front of you. It’s all consuming, and it’s so, so nice to not have to think sometimes.
You allow yourself to get lost in him, even when his palms start to travel, large fingers gripping your ass to pull you against him. You can feel his hardening cock pressing into your stomach, and you let out a little mewl.
“Let me take care of you.” Bucky mumbles.
The kisses he’s placing onto your neck make you shudder, you bare your neck to him. He all but growls at the show, nipping harder, no doubt leaving behind darkening marks.
“Anything for you.” You gasp out when a finger prods at your hole from behind.
Rise up higher on your knees, and his arm curls around you, successfully being able to sink into you. You whimper, your hands falling to his shoulders in order to squeeze them.
“Buck…” You mewl. Your hips desperately try to grind down on his singular digit. “More, please.”
He just hums, his kisses growing gentler as he winds you up. “Take what I give you, yeah?” You have to force yourself to agree.
Bucky can’t force himself to deprive you of what you want for too long, because a second finger joins along with his other one. It isn’t hard to find your g-spot, especially not with the way a high-pitched whine escapes through your mouth.
He works you up to three fingers before you’re pouting and whimpering in his arms.
“Buck…” You complain. An airy chuckle gets brushed against your bare breasts and you shiver. “Alright, alright.”
He steadies you when his fingers slip out, gripping his cock to nudge it against your puffy entrance. “You want it?” Bucky teases, dragging his nose down the curve of your jaw. “Mhm. So bad.”
Bucky wasn’t a cruel man, so with a bruising kiss to your cheek, he pushes into you, pulling you down to meet his thrust. A long, drawn moan escapes you as he bottoms out, hands scrambling to cup the back of his neck, while the other, threaded themselves through his shaved hair.
It was quiet as you took a moment to adjust, the only sounds of water dropping off of your skin and back into the water.
“Move.” You whispered breathlessly with a swivel of your hips.
With a grunt, you rose before sinking back down, disrupting the water surrounding you. It was a few slow minutes before you picked up the pace. Bucky didn’t hesitate to grab at your waist, helping you in your grinding.
Gasps tumbled out of your mouth, and you could feel yourself being moved until his cock found your g-spot. “Fuck!” You cried out. Your head tipped back and a dark chuckle vibrated up your neck.
“Found it.”
Bucky seemed to have thrown caution to the wind, because he proceeded to drag you down to meet his hard, punching thrusts. You squealed as water sloshed over the side of the tub, holding onto him for dear life as he fucked into you.
Little ‘ah ah ah’s’ poured out of you every time he went deeper; you were surrounded by him, your walls clenching down on him to hold him inside.
You felt the burning in your lower back first, orgasm simmering under your skin, practically begging to get out. Then, it was the tingle in your stomach.
“‘M close.” You arched into his touch as he let out a particularly loud groan. “Yeah? ‘Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Mhm.” You whined in ascent.
Your inability to properly respond drove him deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until you were squirming, practically running away from the pleasure of it all.
“Buck!”
You came with one last cry, eyesight and hearing, whiting out in exchange for pure bliss. You trembled through it, legs spasming, desperate to close even as he worked you through your orgasm.
Your walls that fluttered around him drew him to his own end, his bone rattling moan falling on deaf ears, though you could feel him paint your insides.
It’s a touch of quiet and you throw a lazy glance to the left, where you can see the tile is absolutely drowned in water. No wonder you getting cold so quickly.
“Bucky.” You say simply.
“Hm?”
“There’s water on the floor.”
A sigh.
“I’ll clean it up.”
“Thank you.”
ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @violettavirus
#♡ ― nsfmeau !#kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober day nine#plus size reader#x plus size reader#x chubby reader#plus size!reader#chubby reader#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes kinktober#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky barnes smut#smut#fanfiction
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Insecure Adam x reader! like he's insecure about his face because Eve and Lilith abandoned him
Oh this was too fun to write. Insecure boys 😳🥵
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Imposter syndrome
Adam's a nice enough guy. A bit too cocky for your taste, just straight up vulgar at times. So when he asked you on a date you initially said no thanks. And he took it well or so you thought.
Internally he was freaking the fuck out. He hated rejection. HATED IT. It made him feel small. His chest collapsing in on its self. He quickly hurried away from you. You wouldn't see him for weeks maybe even months.
The next time you saw him is mask was slighty different. The LED brighter, more golden. The horns bigger and pointer. It was a small change but you notice.
"hey, Adam?"
"what's up, sweet tits."
"uh, your mask. Is it new?" You ask with a smile.
He gets a shit eating grin. "Yeah. You noticed?"
"yes, well, I tend to notice things." You replied playfully.
Adam took this as a good sign. You must like his new mask! You must like him! "Soo... What are you doing later?" He checks his nails, not giving you any time to reply. "I know this tight place. Only the best get in... I could... I don't know. Take you? If you want?"
"oh, well, I didn't have anything planned. So.. sure, Adam." His feathers puffed up in delight. "Cool. Pick you up at 8, sugartits." And that was it. You were dating Adam, the first man, the original dick.
You've been dating for about a year. You've gotten to the point of spending most weekends at each others apartments. And you noticed Adam will always have his mask on. He'd walk into the bathroom shower and come back with it on before anything else. He'd wear it during sex. Even to eat! You didn't even understand how that worked. You remember one time coming over and having to wait outside for 5 minutes because he needed his mask on. It was honestly getting annoying. You wanted to see his face. Especially when getting intimate. To feel his real lips on your body. Well, tonight was the night you decided. You were going to ask him to take off his mask.
You were cooking dinner while Adam was sat on your couch watching tv.
"Adam, sweetie... Can I ask you something?"
"sure thing, sugartits." His eyes not leaving the screen.
"why do you always wear that mask?"
His heart dropped, palms immediately went clammy as he shoots you a look. "What? Don't you like it?" You put down the knife you were using to chop up the vegetables for the meal. "no, of course I like it. It's just.." you walk over to the sink to wash your hands. "It would be nice to see you face. Like your real face?" You couldn't see but his hands clenched his robe so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
All he heard was static from then on, thoughts circling his head. What if you laugh at him. What if you leave him. What if you hate him. What if you're so repulsed by him you- "Adam!" You were crouched in front of him. He didn't even notice. "Huh, what?"
"you like.. froze? Are you okay?"
"tsk, yeah. I'm fuckin' Adam. I'm always okay, bitch." He leaned back in the couch putting your his arm over the back of it.
"well, I was talking and you stopped responding.. if you don't want to take your mask off you don't have to." He didn't even know you asked.
"psht, I'm not bothered. If you want me to take my mask off just ask." He rolled his eyes then looked away.
"okay... Can you take off your mask please?"
He froze again, his eyes dart to you."s-seriously?" He scoffed. "Whatever. You want it off you can take it off." You stood up. "Okay." Your hands reached down to his mask, he started pushing himself away, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as your fingers curled under neck. You got up to his jaw before he pulled it back down. "I'M NOT READY! I'M NOT READY! PLEASE!" You snatched your hands away as his gripped onto the horns holding his mask in place. "Adam?"
"I'm not... I can't do it. Please don't take it off..."
"I won't. I promise."
"I'm sorry.." his voice cracked and it broke your heart.
"no, no, don't be. You don't have to be sorry." You put your hand on his knees for reassurance. "When you're ready. Okay?"
"okay.." his wraps his arms around you, pulling you on to his lap. You both just hold each other. Until he's ready.
~♡✧。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧♡~
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel adam x reader#adam x reader
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The Host
Sum: You thought you booked an Airbnb experience and well you ended up with a host.
Host! Geto x Foreigner! Reader
WC: 2.5k
TW: Fluff, Modern AU, Language barrier, shameless flirting, reader is inexperienced, slight soft dom sugu. MDNI
A/n: I know I just posted a 13k fic but I literally had to work this out of my brain because I just think host suguru would be such a tease. (and I haven't written fluff in what feels like forever). My brain might be fried but it is filled with Suguru brainworms at the moment.
Oh, poor, unsuspecting you, perched stiffly at the very edge of an opulent, king-sized bed, the silk sheets cool against your trembling hands. As far away as humanly possible from the man you had, quite accidentally, paid for.
The room was undeniably extravagant, bathed in warm golden lighting that reflected off sleek marble floors and mirrored walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering Tokyo skyline, the soft hum of music filling the air. The faint scent of jasmine and vanilla lingered, mingling with the subtle warmth of the private Onsen just a few steps away. But none of that was what had your pulse racing.
It was him, Geto Suguru, who lounged effortlessly against the plush headboard, dark hair spilling over his shoulder, the silk of his robe parted just enough to reveal the smooth lines of his collarbone. He looked comfortable, like he belonged in this world of indulgence, watching you with half-lidded amusement, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.
You barely spoke a lick of Japanese. And his English? Well… it was only slightly better than your Japanese. Yet here you were, knuckles white as you gripped the hem of your sweet little dress, your face burning under the weight of his gaze.
You really should have read that ad more carefully.
Because you hadn’t just booked a tour guide. No, you had booked a host. For two days...straight. You thought it was an Airbnb special, some kind of personalized experience that came with a local guide and a stay. And technically… you weren’t wrong. The stay was nice. Too nice.
A love hotel. Highest floor. Private sauna. Personal onsen.
And now, moving closer to you, was the most breathtaking man you had ever laid eyes on—dark hair framing a perfect face, deep violet eyes gleaming under the warm glow of the room. He had a lazy kind of confidence, the kind that made your stomach twist with nerves as his gaze slowly raked over you. Somehow looked like a predator who had all the time in the world to toy with his prey.
“Mm… shy?” Suguru murmured, voice thick like honey, as smooth as the silk sheets beneath you. He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curving as he watched you with a slow, sultry smile. “No need, princess.”
Your breath hitched as he shifted even closer, closing the space between you inch by inch, his long fingers tapping against his knee like he was amused by your reaction.
“Ah…” He paused, searching for the right words in English. “You… hungry?”
The question was innocent enough, but the way he said it—low, deep, with the slightest rasp—made it sound far less about food and far more about something else. You swallowed thickly, nodding quickly to break the spell. His smirk widened, like he’d caught on.
“Good.” A long pause. “I… call food, yes?”
You nodded again, cheeks burning. Suguru exhaled a soft chuckle, rolling his shoulders back before pointing at you.
“Princess.”
You blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
His smirk deepened. He pointed at himself, “Me… prince?”
Your heart stopped.
“N-No! That’s not—!”
He tsked, tilting his head. “Ah, but…” His fingers traced an invisible pattern against the sheets, his expression half-lidded, thoughtful. “You… stay here. With me.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something just above a whisper. “You… trust me?”
Oh, that was not fair. Every word was slow, deliberate, his Japanese accent thick as he tested each syllable on his tongue, letting it roll out like velvet. You were so in trouble. Panicked, you scrambled to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between you as possible. Suguru blinked, visibly startled, before his expression twisted into something between confusion and mild offense.
He pointed at you. “What?” A beat of silence. “...Why?”
You had no answer, only frantic breaths and a face so hot you were convinced you’d melt into the floor.
Suguru sighed, shaking his head before muttering something under his breath in Japanese. Then, as if deciding to let you off the hook for now, he leaned back, stretching his arms lazily over his head.
“Okay, okay.” His voice was rich with amusement. “I call food.”
Then, with a slow, satisfied smirk, “Shy princess.” Your stomach flipped. This was going to be a very, very long two days.
And they had barely begun - the food he ordered… was all aphrodisiacs.
Sweet wine. Chocolate-dipped strawberries. Escargot. Champagne. And a thick, decadent slice of strawberry cake.
All charged to your card, of course.
You swallowed hard as you eyed the lavish spread before you, glancing at him warily. Suguru, who draped himself in a silky black robe that barely clung to his shoulders, the fabric shifting each time he moved, offering teasing glimpses of his toned chest, the smooth lines of his collarbones, the deep grooves of muscle.
Not that you were looking.
Okay, maybe you were. But only for a second.
Your gaze snapped away just as he caught you, and sure enough, when you dared to glance back, he was already watching, an easy, knowing smile gracing his lips.
“Come,” he urged, patting the spot beside him on the sleek, black leather couch. His voice was warm, smooth, dripping with that slow, languid charm that made your stomach twist itself into knots.
You shook your head furiously, fingers curling around the plush bedding as if it could save you from this fox.
Suguru sighed, the sound deep and indulgent, shaking his head as he poured two glasses of champagne. Everything he did was unhurried, fingers long and elegant as they traced the delicate curve of the crystal glass. The golden liquid caught the dim light, shimmering as he swirled it, gaze flicking toward you with something close to amusement and mild frustration. You weren't exactly making his job easy being all the way over there.
“Ah… shy princess.”
His voice dipped, slow and drawn-out, his lips curling just enough to make you feel small. Like you were a rabbit caught beneath the lazy, calculating gaze of a fox. Still, he moved toward you, champagne in hand. The glass he offered was cool against your palm, but the second his fingers brushed yours, your body betrayed you.
Heat, a slow, creeping warmth flooding through your chest, pooling low in your stomach. Suguru didn’t miss it.
Not the way your breath hitched. Not the way your fingers trembled, just slightly. Not the way you still refused to move beside him, despite the obvious pull between you.
Instead, you remained perched on the bed, stubbornly distant, eyes flickering anywhere but the man lounging before you—where he sat so effortlessly, his robe loose over strong shoulders, his powerful, yet elegant legs spread just enough. The silk of his robe barely clung to his frame, doing its job in covering what was necessary—but only just.
Suguru clicked his tongue.
Once.
Slowly, exhaled through his nose, tilting his head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if you had truly disappointed him.
Then—before you could react—he patted his lap.
“Sit.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers clutched the glass like it would somehow save you from sheer embarrassment. You shook your head, clinging to whatever sliver of common sense you had left. “I...”
“Sit.” Slower this time. Lower. The honey in his voice grew thicker, richer, pooling into something dark and sultry.
Your resolve cracked.
Crumbled.
And before you knew it, you were nestled in his lap.
The silk of his robe soft against your knees, the warmth of him bleeding into you, his arm curled effortlessly around your waist like you belonged there. A slow, pleased hum left him, low and indulgent, vibrating against your skin as he reached for something beside him, a chocolate-dipped strawberry.
Suguru brought it close to your lips, just shy of touching them.
“See?” His voice was a quiet murmur, thick with amusement, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Not so bad, princess.”
His fingers ghosted over your hip, the smallest, barest touch, just enough to make you shiver. Your lips parted on instinct. Suguru’s smirk deepened.
Your face burned as you reluctantly opened your mouth, letting him press the sweet fruit past your lips. Suguru chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath you as his fingers brushed against your chin, his voice nothing but a sinful purr.
“Good girl.”
Suguru was having the time of his life.
You, on the other hand, were barely holding on.
Each time he fed you, each time his voice dipped into that dangerously smooth tone, he made sure to teach you something new, his lazy smirk growing wider every time you got more flustered.
Right now, he was swirling the last bit of champagne in his glass, his other hand resting lightly on your hip, fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of your dress.
“Mm…” He tilted his head, violet eyes glinting. “You say… ‘thank you’ in Japanese?”
You blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift. “Oh, um… I think I know this one…” You racked your brain, cheeks still warm from the last round of teasing. “Is it… Arigato?”
Suguru chuckled, clearly pleased.
“Good.” His fingers trailed up your spine, slow, deliberate. “But… too simple.”
Your breath hitched. “H-Huh?”
He hummed, tapping his fingers against his chin. “You say… Arigato gozaimasu. More… polite.”
You nodded quickly, eager to move past this. “O-Okay. Arigato gozaimasu.”
Suguru smirked. “Good.”
Then, before you could react, he lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it. Your entire body locked up. The warmth of his lips barely grazed your skin, but it sent a sharp jolt straight through your chest. You swore you heard your heartbeat echo in your ears.
“Dou itashimashite.” His voice was low, velvety, teasing. “That means… ‘You’re welcome.’”
You didn’t even realize you were staring until he laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he murmured, “You learn very well, princess.”
You let out a strangled noise, yanking your hand back, which only seemed to amuse him further. He picked up a small spoonful of cake next, but this time, he paused instead of bringing it straight to your lips.
“Ah… You say ‘Can I?’” He tapped the spoon against his lower lip, tilting his head slightly.
You blinked. “Wait, why would I need to...?”
Suguru’s smirk widened. He wanted you to ask permission before he fed you. You stared at him in disbelief. The audacity.
Still, his expectant gaze had you swallowing your pride. “Um… Ii desu ka?” The second the words left your lips, Suguru made a soft, pleased sound in his throat.
“Oh?” His voice dipped, slow and indulgent. “Very, very good.”
And just like that, he finally pressed the spoon to your lips, his fingers brushing your jaw as he pulled away. You weren’t even sure if you tasted the cake at this point, your brain was far too busy trying to process him.
Suguru chuckled, watching you with a dark, teasing glint in his eyes.
“Last one.”
You swallowed hard. “W-What now?”
He took his time, leaning forward just slightly, his warm breath fanning over your ear as he whispered, “Good night.”
Your breath hitched.
Oh.
Oh no.
He was making you say good night to him. Like some kind of lover. Your brain scrambled, heat spreading up your neck as you hesitated. “Um… I-It’s… Oyasumi?”
Suguru exhaled a pleased hum, his fingers skimming lightly along your shoulder.
“Oyasumi…” His voice was impossibly soft now, his lips close enough that if you turned your head just slightly—nope.
Nope nope nope.
You lurched away, scrambling off his lap far too quickly, practically tripping over yourself in your rush to the other side of the room. Suguru blinked, momentarily stunned by your sudden escape. Then, ever so slowly, his lips curled into a feline smirk. His head tilted, amusement flickering behind dark lashes as he rested his chin on his palm.
“Mou, princess…” he murmured, voice thick with laughter. Then, just to drive the knife in deeper, his voice dropped into a deep, lazy whisper “Oyasumi, baby.”
Suguru, like any seasoned host, had expectations. Clients booked him for company. For charm. For romance. And, most often, for sex. That was the unspoken agreement, the natural order of things in his line of work. So when he watched you—this shy foreign thing wrapped up in a baggy T-shirt and sweatpants, avoiding his gaze like your life depended on it—he was… intrigued. Unlike every other client, you weren’t inviting him closer.
No, you were curling up on the very edge of the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin like it was some kind of shield against the dangerously attractive man beside you.
He couldn't help the smile forming on his lips, amusement dancing in his eyes, oh, this was too cute. Suguru stretched lazily, letting his robe slip open just slightly, the soft silk sliding off his shoulder as he shifted toward you. And then, without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled. You let out a startled squeak as you tumbled back against his chest, your hands barely catching yourself against the sheets.
“S-Suguru!”
He exhaled a slow, pleased hum, pressing his face into the crook of your neck like you were nothing but a soft little thing for him to toy with.
“Mmm… so warm,” he murmured, his voice thick with joy as his fingers splayed lightly over your stomach. You went rigid. His grip was loose, lazy, like he wasn’t even trying to hold you there. But the weight of his arm, the heat of his bare skin against your back, made it impossible to think.
“I—uh—” You swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way his breath fanned over your ear. “T-This is… um…” Suguru smirked against your skin. “Uncomfortable?”
Yes. No. Maybe.
Your face burned.
“I-It’s just…”
He chuckled, fingers brushing over the waistband of your sweatpants, light and teasing.
“Mm?”
Your breath hitched. “I-It's not!”
“Hnn… sugoi.” He tapped his fingers against the fabric with a lazy grin. “Very… sexy.”
Your body locked up.
“S-Suguru!”
His chuckle was nothing short of wicked, lips barely skimming the curve of your shoulder. “Ah, sorry, sorry.”
No, he wasn’t.
You tried—tried—to wiggle free, but the moment you shifted, his grip tightened just slightly, his fingers curling around your waist to keep you right where he wanted you. You stiffened. Suguru hummed, pressing his cheek against your shoulder, his voice dipping into something dangerously soft.
“You always sleep like this?”
Your breath shuddered. “W-What do you mean?”
He nuzzled into your neck, voice nothing but a lazy purr. “Mm… so covered.”
Your soul left your body.
“I-It’s comfortable!” you squeaked, gripping the blanket like it was your last defense. Suguru exhaled a soft ahhh, his fingers trailing absentmindedly along your hip.
“You sleep with men before?”
Your entire body froze once again, Suguru felt it—felt the way you went completely still, and then, ever so slowly, a smirk curled at his lips.
“Ah…” His voice was soft, almost mockingly gentle. “Never?”
You swallowed thickly.
“Not even… once?”
You shook your head furiously, refusing to meet his gaze.
Suguru hummed, the sound vibrating against your back, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your shirt.
“Hontou ni?”
You knew that word by now.
Really?
Your breath hitched. He was teasing you. Toying with you. And he was enjoying every second of it. You clenched your hands into fists around the luxurious comforter that was supposed to be your savior, your face burning hotter than ever.
“I—!”
Before you could finish, Suguru sighed dramatically, like he had just discovered something truly fascinating.
“A real… virgin?” You died. Suguru grinned.
“Oh?” His fingers brushed against your stomach, feather-light. “So innocent.”
He was enjoying this way too much. You squirmed, trying to put some distance between you, but the moment you moved, Suguru’s voice dipped into something dark and indulgent.
“Maa, maa…” He leaned in close, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. Then, just to be cruel, he murmured— “I’ll be gentle.”
Your body jerked, heart slamming against your ribs as you whipped around, mortified. Suguru cracked up. A full, deep laugh, his chest shaking as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sound muffled but absolutely giddy.
“You can't just say that!” you sputtered, shoving weakly at his shoulder, but he only tightened his hold on you, laughter rumbling against your back.
“Ahh, gomen, gomen…” He sighed dramatically, his smirk pressing into your skin. “But so cute, princess.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He wasn’t done. Suguru exhaled a long, satisfied hum, his grip on your waist relaxing just slightly as his lips brushed the curve of your shoulder.
“Oyasumi, baby.”
Your breath stalled.
Suguru smirked, like it was the easiest thing in the world, “Say it.” His voice was deep, velvet-smooth, coaxing. “Good night, Suguru.”
Your heart stammered.
You refused.
You absolutely refused.
Suguru waited when you still didn’t answer, he tch’d softly, shaking his head like he was truly disappointed. “Mou…” then, with the slowest, most dangerous smirk, “I’ll teach you in the morning.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto
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or or a partner whose v day gift is wearing lingerie but ghost or soap dont realise its a v day thing until a couple days later
Now this is the kind of bullshit I'm into
You get a couple good pictures of yourself in the strappy lingerie you'd bought, sure to turn around and show off the neat lettering in the back spelling out Johnny's name. You don't mean to toot your own horn too much, but you look good, and the lingerie is hot.
Which is exactly why you're getting pictures of it. Because your overexcited boyfriend is probably going to tear it apart and you'd like to remember this. Also you can torment him with the pictures later and remind him that he can't have nice things because he always ends up breaking his toys.
You're not sure which comes out faster when you drop your robe for Johnny: his cock or the folding knife.
Of course he's exceptionally careful with you, running his tongue along the crisscrossing lace and straps that hold the minimal cloth that exists in the bra/panty set you got, before easing his knife under the wet elastic. As if it wasn't hot enough having your boyfriend's mouth on you the knife captures the warmth of your skin like a brand. Just feeling the blunt edge of it sliding against your skin is enough to make heat pool between your legs. Coupled with the wet slide of Johnny's tongue over your breasts, your hips, the soft pouch of your stomach, skin that normal doesn't get the attention, oh you positively burn for him.
The lingerie is in ribbons by the time he's finished, the remains of your panties pulled haphazardly over his head. "Wanna keep smellin' ya." Johnny had said, and the way he keeps pressing the gusset against his nose makes you sure he wasn't lying. God, this man is a dog.
Which is exactly why you're not surprised when he asks what the occasion was after he's filled you up a third time.
"Valentine's day," You whine, feeling him scoop the come that slips from your hole with his fingers and press it back inside. He pauses and when you look at him he's white.
"That's today." He confirms. You hum. "Were ya- Were ya gonna tell me?"
"Nope." You pop the 'p' and settle in to get comfortable. You sort of like torturing the poor guy, but honestly the only thing you expected from him was exactly what he's already given you. A few good orgasms and watching him buy dinner with a puzzled expression at how busy the restaurant was.
Johnny smacks his forehead with an "Ach" sound that makes you laugh. "I'll make it up tae ya." He assures you.
"Sure," You smile, "or we can just stay in bed and keep fucking."
"Oh," He glances at the clock and crawls over you with a grin, "Yeah let's dae that."
#x reader#cod x reader#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap cod#soap call of duty#soap mw2#soap modern warfare#f!reader
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Loved inside and out ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
ׁ ֶָ֢ ⏤͟͟͞͞☕️ ׁ ࣭ warnings ! ۪ ׁ ⊹ || Dom!Anakin × Sub!Fem!Reader, cockwarming, brief pinv sex, creampie (mentioned), pet names MDNI !!
Not bothering whatever Obi-wan was so immensely discussing with Ani was practically impossible when your head was swarming with tingling thoughts about your unsuccessful day. Feeling miserable, you didn’t even try to participate in the ardent conversation the two Jedi had. Your only resolve turned out to be to linger around, trying to gain Anakin’s precious attention, which you were so desperate for.
“What’s gotten you so dull?” Your grand-master’s voice pulls you out of your head, making your eyes settle on his humble white robes. “You’re traipsing around like a youngling.”
Feeling embarrassed about the comment, you glimpse at Anakin, expecting to be defended from Obi-wan’s sharp eye, but instead you are greeted with another curious stare as his arms cross over his chest.
"Just a bad day.” You mutter, struggling to define the intense feeling of weariness you woke up with.
Not pleased enough with the description, they glance at each other concisely, as if sizing up your negativity. Anakin’s arms drop lower with a sigh.
“How about another session to put your mind off things?” He insists, making you wonder what kind of session he was talking about while hoping Obi-wan’s imagination only darts to the possibility of you dueling with Anakin instead of anything wicked.
"Go; I’ll finish on my own.” Your master’s master nods approvingly towards Anakin, reassuring you two about his oblivion to what happens in your little nests when his prying gaze is elsewhere.
Anakin’s eyes gleam briefly before he tilts his head upwards towards you, encouraging you to move alongside him.
“What’s wrong?” A soft voice reaches your ears as you two are far enough. “What bothers your pretty little head?” He speaks gently, but his eyes still stare forward, careful not to drop the cloak you two were wearing.
“It’s nothing, really…” You pause, but unable to come up with a better excuse, you shortly continue. “I’m just blue.”
—
“It’s okay. It’s okay, my angel.” Anakin coos, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear as his chest presses against your back, firm arm grabbing you closer. “I’ve got you now.”
In the safety of your own quarters and Anakin’s embrace, you felt completely tranquil, even with your panties pulled to the side and the gentle nudge of his cock brushing against your entrance. His tight grip enveloped you perfectly, filling your heart with comfort, opening an escape from the dullness of your routine.
“You’re so precious, always need my cock to soothe you.” He coos, nudging your slit with a wet tip, eager to fuck into your guts.
“Mmm…” You nod silently, not wanting to be bullied about it.
Anakin’s lips gently touch your cheek as if to reassure you that he’s there to ease your mind instead of making fun of your disheveled mental state. He props himself up on his forearm, leaning over you slightly to reach the plum of your lips as he slowly starts pushing inside your warm tunnel.
“Open up, darling, you know you need it.” He hooks his hand under your thigh, raising it just slightly. “Relax and let me in.”
Your walls flutter open, trying to accommodate him in a not-so-aroused hole. It’s irritating and uncomfortable at first, but once his stomach is nicely pressed against your lower back, your body grows limp into the sheets. Finally comforted, finally full of love.
Anakin grunts, fighting the urge to buck against you. He neatly spoons you close to himself, pressing his knees into the back of your legs while his hand gently rubs your abdomen.
“There we go, nice and sheathed in your little pussy.” He pats your hip softly before resuming his soft caress.
You close your eyes, savoring the way your walls molded around him. The feeling of him pulsing inside you like a second heartbeat made your body swell with warmth. Your brain became fuzzy, filling with images of Anakin’s veiny shaft enveloped within you.
“Feels so good, Ani. So warm.” You utter, taking a deep breath of air, of his scent, more of Anakin inside you.
He lets out a low chuckle, his hand creeps its way under your belly button, teasing the skin above your pubic hair with his fingertips.
“Do you want to come?” He asks in a breathy voice, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. “Want my angel to be happy. Want to make you squirm in pleasure. Do you want to?”
You pause for a second. It was true that your insides were quickly flooding themselves when Anakin was loving you so good, when his hands felt so gentle on your skin, his cock numbed the sadness in you so perfectly… But you didn’t actually need an orgasm; you just wanted him, his presence, his sweet, comforting body, and soft voice that always grounded you. You didn’t want to come, but...
“No...”
“Of course, sweet thing.” He coos and kisses your shoulder gently, pulling your body against his. “Let me just hold my angel, nice and tight and wrapped around me. Just like you should be.”
He continues pressing feather-like pecks across your arm, softly tugging on your robes to expose more of your skin, which he so longed to adore, while you braced yourself to finish the sentence and reveal your need.
“But I want you to.” You mutter in a shy voice, heat spreading across your cheeks, making your muscles clench.
“Want me to what, love?” He pauses his loving kisses, locking his eyes with yours in a gaze that tells you that he knows exactly what you mean.
Having no energy to argue with his teasing nature, you only sigh to express your unwillingness to entertain him. You lay still for a moment, waiting for him to comply and finally amuse your wish.
“Gotta explain it to me, pretty angel, can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want.” He tickles your neck with his hot breath once more, beating you entirely by being sneakily right.
“Ani, please…” You turn to him, your glossy eyes making his heart swell and cock twitch inside you. “…please cum in me—”
“Atta girl.” You can’t even finish your filthy sentence when he grabs your hips and retreats from your warmth. “Gonna fill that pussy up, make a little creamy mess...”
Once his hips snap back, your eyes roll, and you know that soon enough, you’ll be begging to cum.
#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker blurb#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker imagines#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker x you#anakin x reader smut#anakin x reader#anakin x fem reader#anakin smut#anakin fanfiction#anakin blurb#anakin drabble#anakin imagine#anakin one shot#anakin fic#anakin x you#anakin x reader fanfic#anakin x y/n
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a cameron family vacation: the surprise
masterlist | kook!reader masterlist
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
As soon as they made it back to the hotel room, Rafe took a quick shower before ushering y/n to take an “exceptionally long and especially relaxing shower”.
“It’s kinda hard to relax when you won’t tell me what is going on.” Y/n said as Rafe practically shoved her into the bathroom.
“Trust me, take a nice, long shower and things will reveal themselves when you get out, I promise.” Rafe said, patting y/n’s cheek lightly before closing the bathroom door between them. Y/n furrowed her brows before reluctantly climbing into the elegantly tiled shower. She took her time (as she was so emphatically asked to do), lighting a candle and allowing herself to relax, even if it felt nearly impossible to do so.
Once she was out, she soothed her hair until it was manageable, taking her time to dry it and style it before throwing on the minimal amount of makeup she had brought in her travel bag. After wrapping herself in one of the hotel’s robes, y/n emerged from the bathroom, expecting to see Rafe sprawled out on the bed, but was instead greeted with a large garment bag. As she got closer, she noticed the small, pink scrap of paper stuck to the hanger:
Put this on and meet me downstairs. - R.C. Y/n read, a small smile creeping on her lips. P.S. - Sarah helped me pick this out, hope you like it :)
Y/n shook her head, tossing the note down on the bed and moving to unzip the garment bag. Inside, laid a satin, navy dress. The brilliant blue fabric fell elegantly as y/n lifted it from the bag, admiring the strappy open back as she smoothed her fingers along the silky fabric. Dropping her robe, y/n stepped slowly into the dress. As she tugged it on, the fabric clung to her curves, the satin falling perfectly against her skin in a way that brought a bashful smile to y/n’s face. Y/n looked in the mirror, admiring the dress, and finding herself pleasantly surprised with Rafe’s choice. Finally shaking herself out of her focus on the dress, she slipped on her strappy heels and stepped from the bedroom.
“Wow.” Y/n heard from the couch, turning to see Wheezie perched in a chair, yarn in her lap. Her eyes were wide, gazing over y/n’s styled hair and makeup paired with her elegant dress. Y/n smiled, giving the youngest Cameron a bit of a twirl and flip of her hair with a giggle.
“This is part of Rafe’s surprise?” Wheezie asked with a quirk of her brow.
“Uh, yeah… I’m not sure if I should be worried.” Y/n said with a chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hmm.” Wheezie nodded, turning back to her crocheting with a mischievous smirk on her face.
“Don’t tell me you’re in on this?” Y/n scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. Wheezie ignored her, her smirk only growing as she continued working with her yarn. Y/n rolled her eyes with a groan, heading towards the front door and bidding Wheezie farewell. She found herself fiddling with the fabric of her dress as the elevator slowly descended, opening into the lobby. She scanned the guests until she finally recognized a familiar scruff of blonde hair. Rafe turned around, chewing on his lip until his eyes finally met hers.
Y/n felt her breath catch as Rafe’s eyes slowly swept over her, soaking in every perfectly styled strand of her hair and curve of fabric, trying to commit it all to memory. It was almost as if the rest of the bustling lobby had disappeared, the only people the two of them.
“Rafe?” Y/n said, giggling as Rafe shook himself back into focus. He blinked quickly, smoothing a hand down the front of his white button down. Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the way his tanned skin peeked through the light, linen fabric and the way the light reflected off his gold chain. He looked good (hell, he always did), but the flush of his cheeks mixed with the way he seemingly couldn’t stop staring at her made her feel weak in the knees.
“Sorry…” Rafe nodded, his lips quirking slightly. “You, um… look really good.”
“Thanks. You look good, too.” Y/n smiled. Rafe’s cheeks reddened as he cleared his throat, offering his hand out to y/n. She took it, following him as he guided her out of the hotel and into the cobbled Italian streets. Parked just off the road sat a bright red Vespa, adorned with a bouquet of vibrant flowers and two helmets, a sight that seemed so stereotypically American vacation in Italy that y/n found herself laughing. Her laughs only picked up further as Rafe led her over to it, grabbing the bouquet and offering it out to her.
“You did not.” Y/n giggled, taking the flowers from Rafe, who simply smiled widely at her as he grabbed one of the helmets. His fingers softly brushed her hair back, lingering on her warm skin before placing the helmet snuggly on her head.
“You’re gonna mess up my hair!” Y/n groaned as Rafe buckled the helmet, patting the top with a grin before fastening his own on. Rounding the Vespa, Rafe sat down on the seat before turning to offer his hand out. Y/n took it, sitting on the seat behind him. Rafe kicked the kickstand up, the engine sputtering to life.
“Better hold on.” Rafe said as he revved the engine. Y/n placed her hands lightly on Rafe’s waist, the bouquet resting on his lap. He gripped her wrist, pulling her closer, her arms snaking around his waist. Her chest rested snugly against his back, her heart hammering so harshly she was sure he could feel it. With a flick of his wrist, the Vespa sprung forward, causing y/n to squeal and hold tighter onto Rafe, who smirked under the visor of his helmet.
The scooter wove through the streets of Italy, the crisp air blowing through her air and the evening sun warming their skin. The bustling streets quickly gave way to winding, cliffside roads that overlooked the ocean. Y/n gazed out at the brilliant blue water, resting her cheek on Rafe’s back as they continued to their surprise destination.
Finally, the whir of the engine lessened as Rafe pulled off onto a small, sandy patch on the side of the road. The sun had just begun to set over the horizon, bathing the sky in a smear of orange and purple. Rafe took his helmet off, shaking his hair out before climbing off the Vespa. Y/n followed, taking Rafe’s hand as he helped her off. Not dropping her hand, Rafe led y/n down a path, weaving through rocks and trees until they finally broke through towards a small stretch of beach.
In the sand, a blanket sat adorned with food and wine. Stretching across the trees above them, strands of lights brought a faint glow to the beach underneath the setting sun. Y/n found herself looking at the beach, mouth agape as she took in the details of the decorated sand. If she thought the Vespa was straight out of a cheesy rom-com, this was full on Hollywood.
“So… what do you think?” Rafe said, scratching the back of his neck as y/n continued to stare at the beach in awe. When she finally met his gaze, he noticed the slight glassiness in the familiar hue of her eyes. She blinked quickly, wiping her eyes before smiling widely.
“It’s… how did you do all this?” Y/n said with a laugh as the two of them sat down on the blanket. Rafe laughed nervously, grabbing the bottle of wine that sat between them. Y/n noticed as his fingers trembled, prying with the bottle opener until the cork finally popped.
“Well, Wheezy put the dress in the room while I got the Vespa and set this up in about—” Rafe checked his watch dramatically— “20 minutes?”
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, picking up her wine glass as Rafe filled both of theirs generously.
“Ahh, that’s why you were so insistent about me taking my time in the shower.” Y/n giggled, taking a sip of wine as Rafe bit his lip with a grin. He sat the bottle down, reaching into the basket sitting between them.
“You didn’t!” Y/n squealed as Rafe produced two tightly wrapped sandwiches from the deli she had been talking his ear off about since they walked past it earlier in the week.
“I didn’t think you’d let us leave without having one of these.” Rafe grinned, watching as y/n excitedly unwrapped the sandwich before biting into it. She closed her eyes, savoring the flavor with a moan that caused Rafe to laugh before taking a bite of his own. The two of them sat in a quiet silence, y/n soaking in the beautiful scenery and magical night, Rafe’s mind racing at what he was about to do.
“This is… wow, Rafe. Thank you.” Y/n sighed, shaking her head with amazement. Rafe blinked back at her, his lips lightly parting as he scanned over her happily flushed and sun kissed face.
“Y/n, there is something I need to, um, tell you.” Rafe swallowed harshly, fidgeting with the Cameron ring that adorned his forefinger. Y/n felt her heart pound, the elation and fascination she had felt coming to a terrifying halt with the nervous look on Rafe’s face.
“I— you’ve been there with me through so much,” Rafe said, “and you’ve put up with me through so much…”
Y/n smiled lightly, hoping Rafe couldn’t sense the thoughts racing through her mind at a mile a minute. Did he do something? Was he starting to rethink their whole friendship? … or had he found out about her feelings for him?
“My mom told me before she died that she wanted me to be happy and to find the person that makes me happy,” Rafe continued, his voice breathy as he reached into his back pocket. “Y/n… you make me happier than anyone else and I’m so, so lucky to call you mine— my best friend.”
Y/n felt her lip tremble at the sincerity that laced Rafe’s voice, the vulnerability he so rarely allowed himself to express. Slowly, he produced a small black box, his fingers shaking as he handed it to her. She took it, her eyes examining it as she opened it. Inside sat a glittering, gold bracelet.
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she immediately recognized it. She’d seen it so many times, mostly in photos, but she knew it belonged to Rafe’s mother. She knew how close Rafe was with his mother, and knew how deeply her death affected him. How he retreated so far into sex and drugs and alcohol and partying, y/n worried she’d never see the Rafe she’d known ever again…
“S– She told me to give this to someone who made me happy… who made me as happy as I made her.” Rafe whispered. Y/n’s eyes lifted from the bracelet to meet his gaze, tears brimming and threatening to spill onto her cheeks.
“Rafe, I… I don’t know what to say.” Y/n whispered. Rafe’s eyes looked glassy as he chewed his bottom lip.
“I don’t— you don’t need to say anything.” Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I want you to have it. I know I want you to have it.”
Y/n’s lip trembled, her heart pounding as the weight of the moment sunk in. Her fingers traced along the bracelet, the diamonds interwoven with years of memories and a love lost too early. There was no way Rafe’s mother would want her to have this. Sure, his mother was a wonderful, kind woman who was nothing but pleasant to y/n during the brief time she knew her, but she couldn’t possibly intend for this.
“Rafe, I– I can’t take this.” Y/n sighed, her eyes darting back to meet Rafe’s gaze. His face dropped, his lips slightly parting as his eyes filled with worry.
“What? Why?” Rafe said exasperatedly. Y/n felt her heart clench at the sudden change in Rafe’s mood.
“What about, I don’t know, like your future wife? Don’t you think she—” Y/n stammered.
“Y/n…” Rafe groaned, taking one of y/n’s free hands in his own. His touch was feather light as he laced his fingers in hers.
“Rafe, I’m serious.” Y/n said, her voice betraying her and coming out with a tremble.
“Y/n, she told me she wanted me to find someone I love and… that’s you, y/n.” Rafe whispered, his fingers tracing her hand lightly.
“I love you too, Rafe, but—” y/n sighed.
“No, y/n, I love you.” Rafe said lowly. Y/n felt her breath catch, the world around her swirling into nothing as his words— the words she’d wanted to hear for so long— echoed in her mind. It felt as if she was dreaming, the beautiful beach, colorful sky, and the boy she was so deeply in love with telling her he felt the same? It had to be a dream.
“Y/n? Please— please say something.” Rafe stammered, his bottom lip trembling and eyes glassy as y/n finally met his gaze.
“How long have you… felt that way?” Y/n whispered.
“I don’t know, y/n, but…” Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve just been pretending they weren’t there, and hoping they’d go away for too long, I just… it’s killing me. I can’t keep doing it”
“I can’t keep doing it either, Rafe.” Y/n said breathily, her voice catching. Rafe’s eyes widened slightly.
“You’re serious?” Rafe asked. Y/n nodded, slowly, a tear falling down her cheek at the final relinquishment of perhaps the biggest secret she’d kept for as long as she could remember. A smile spread across Rafe’s face, his hand dropping her hand and moving to cup her cheek. They looked into eachothers eyes, the two of them giddily laughing as they inched closer before their lips finally met.
His lips were gentle, yet commanding, the faint taste of wine spreading on her tongue as their lips moved in sync. Her hand found its way to his cheek, brushing against his cheekbone and feeling the slight moisture of tears against his cheek. After an eternity, they finally pulled away, both of them smiling, their heads touched together. Rafe pressed another kiss to the corner of her lip before pulling back further, gently lifting the bracelet from the box. With a giggle, y/n lifted her wrist, allowing for him to fasten it on, his fingers brushing her skin. Once it was fastened, he laced his fingers in hers before moving his gaze back to meeting hers.
“I love you.” Rafe whispered, a blushed smile on his face. She’d heard him say it before, but now things were different… how she’d always wished they’d be.
Y/n matched Rafe’s grin as he peppered kisses on her beaming face, his hands gently resting on the hollow of her throat. It felt like he couldn’t get enough, practically breathing her in as he mumbled into her skin and brushed his lips along every feature of her face.
“I love you.” Rafe said again, pressing one last kiss to her lips before gazing lovingly at her flushed and kiss covered face.
“I love you.” Y/n whispered, running a hand through Rafe’s ruffled hair before trailing down to hold their hands between them, the golden bracelet glittering in the faint glow of the moon.
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𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡
Pairing: Aizen Sosuke x reader
Summary: Aizen Sosuke and reader take a bath together.
Request: Taking a bath with Aizen
A/n: Heyyy! I really enjoyed writing something soft and calm for Aizen, I hope you enjoy! <3
Content: brief nudity, mostly sfw.
Ko-fi link (anything is appreciated <3)

You step into the warm room filled with steam and candles light up around the bathroom. The room is scented with vanilla and honey, a scent that pleases your nostrils.
Aizen is in front of you, bare back and muscles popping out. He turns off the faucet to the hot water, tub full of it and foamy bubbles. You quietly close the door behind you as Aizen turns around and faces you.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to his chest and abs out for view. He clears his throat and your eyes shoot up to his own.
"Sorry," you grumble out as he walks over to you. A strand of his dark hair hangs down in front of his face and his lips twitch into a slight smile for just a moment.
He grabs onto your shoulders, a white robe covering your bare body underneath.
"No need to be sorry for staring, y/n. After all, I know you can't help yourself," he comments teasingly and your face heats up.
"Hey, that is not true," you huff out as he slowly takes off your robe off your shoulder. The loose robe drops onto the ground, leaving you vulnerable and bare in front of Aizen.
Nothing he hasn't seen before, you remind yourself. Aizen scans over your body, admiring it and slightly smirking. You scoff, catching himself staring and you walk past him.
You step into the bath, one foot diving into the hot water. The tub is deep as the water goes up to your knee. Aizen undresses himself as you allow the hot water to swallow the rest of your body.
Your muscles instantly relax and you let out a pleasant sigh, eyelids closing. You relish in the hot water that seems to get all the kinks out from your sore body.
The loud splashing of the water causes you to open your eyes, curious. Aizen sinks down into the water, holding onto the sides of the tub to ease himself in, muscles throbbing and flexing as he does so.
"This is nice," you hum out. Aizen nods his head, inching closer to you and reaching out his hand. You lift your hand up from the water, grabbing onto his.
Aizen pulls you closer, eyes glancing down at your lips. He desires them so much. He loves the way your lips feel against his, they feel so right.
"You're staring," you notice, smiling.
Aizen lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles in his throat as his hand grasps onto your jaw. His fingers are slick and wet, but still firmly grabbing your face and bringing you closer.
His dark eyes gaze deeply into yours, making your heart skip a quick beat.
"Is that so?" he asks, voice deep and sending a chill down your spine.
You nod your head and Aizen dips his head down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. The kiss is soft, warm, and wet. The kiss is so perfect and loving.
You wrap your arms around his neck, wet bodies pressing together.
Your lips melt together, not getting enough of each other just quite yet. You open your lips slightly, allowing for Aizen to slide his tongue inside your mouth.
You groan into his mouth as his free hand grabs onto your waist, squeezing the flesh. You giggle against his lips as his fingers tickle your skin.
You slowly pull away, nose bushing against his. You grab onto the bar of soap sitting in the corner and dip it into the water. You lathe the soap into your hands and start scrubbing Aizen's shoulder.
"You do know that I can wash myself, right?" he pokes at you as your hands move down to his chest. You feel his pecs and nod your head, giggling.
"Oh, trust me, I do. You always do everything yourself though. I thought it would be nice if I took care of you," you suggest, moving over to his arms.
You feel every vein in his forearms and how his biceps are just natural big and muscular. Aizen huffs quietly, a chuckle hidden underneath his huff.
Aizen gazes at you, love filling his eyes. He never thought he could love someone like this nor did he think someone could ever care this much about him.
He hates to admit it, but it tugs on his heartstrings.
He grabs onto your arm and pulls you into his chest. Your back is pressed up against his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around you.
"What's going on?" you ask, chuckling as he squeezes you tightly.
"Nothing just...thank you," he whispers into your ear, placing a sweet kiss behind your ear. You smile warmly, leaning back into Aizen's gentle touch.
Aizen holds you tightly, the most precious thing in the whole universe to him.
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#aizen sosuke#bleach#bleach aizen sosuke#aizen sousuke#bleach aizen#aizen#sosuke aizen#sosuke aizen x y/n#aizen x reader#aizen x you#fluff#bath#bathtub#bathtime
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RITE HERE RITE NOW RANT
Where were the other Papas??⁉️? It isn't right that they had a combined thirty seconds of screen time!! 😡😡 If it wasn't for them Then copua wouldn't even this opportunity would he?🚫?
ANd to make it worse🤬 it was lonG‼️So there should have been more time.to. honour papas of the past🙌 but I have already made this point. I had to go to the BATHROOM🚽two times 2️⃣ because it was so long. also who wants tolook at him that long anyway👹
why??????❓❔⁉️ does he get so many outfits! Designer outfits twenty of the same jackets in different colours??🔵🔴🟡⚫🟢 some papas just wore their robes(boring) and some papas were forced to have their shirts sewn into their jackets with very improper tailoring just because ""if you INsist on white gloves that need To be changed every day we have to cut costs elsewhere👿"* but cooia gets two robes ANS everything else???
Papa Iii is much more handsome 🧛and would look much better in the hd4k surroundsound big screen then HIM SO papa iiI deserves a film more and they should bring jim back just to show everyone this😏 and go show the people what its like to see songs sang. Properly!!! you have not been ciriced until you have been ciriced by papa 3💜💜💟 or so I have heard snyway...
YHE ONLY THING that is good is that it accurately shows what a rude SELFish self absorbed man this cOPis is(although the old man deserves no respect 👍🏻👍🏻) just tonight he ate the last cannoli without offering to aNYONE!!! ELSE‼️‼️ SO this i do think the film does right
BUT....
The door slams open and he almost drops his phone in surprise. He was sat where he had been sat all evening, collapsed into this chair in the clergy commons after his disappointing dinner, thinking. His expression soured even further now it seemed another one of his brothers was here to ruin his day.
"Are you reading reviews of the movie again, frattelino?" Secondo asks, squinting at him across the dark room. "There is steam coming from your ears."
"I am not reading them no," he smirks a little, pushing the glasses he usually pretends not to need up his nose before continuing to tap away at his phone with his pointer finger. Secondo flicks on the light switch disrupting him once again with the blinding light so he shoots him a quick glare before resuming his somewhat frantic yet stilted typing.
"I do not like that look," he accuses, pointing at him as he crosses the room. "What are you doing then?" He circles the armchair in which Terzo is slouched, leaning around to look at the screen over his shoulder.
"None of your business," he pulls the phone to his chest to hide the screen. "Why must you stick your big old nose where it is not wanted eh?"
"Let me see!" He tries to wriggle away from his brother's seeking hand, tustling each other like they used to when they were children. He almost slides free but his escape is thwarted but his stupidly large brothers hand clamping onto his shoulder and pulling away his phone with the other.
"Give that BACK!" He struggles out of the squishy chair pushing his glasses back up into his hair so he can glare uninterrupted at his brother who is now scrolling through his review, shaking his head and tutting like a stupid old chicken.
"Terzo this isn't very nice," he says it so patronisingly he has to resist stamping his foot in frustration. Why should he be nice! He never got a moment like this and if he had he knows he would have done more, done better. And shouldn't Secondo be mad too?
"I stand by what I said," he huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "Aren't you annoyed? That we barely got a mention? Just that we were dead?"
"Well I would say I got about twenty of the thirty seconds we were on screen so how can I complain?" He expects the typical reaction he usually gets when he teases his brother but when Terzo instead, visibly deflates before flopping back into his chair he realises this might be a bit deeper than he thought.
"Terzo, come now, what is really the matter?" He moves to perch on the arm of the chair, handing him back his phone. When he doesn't respond straight away he reaches over to mess with his brother's habitually pristine hair, ruffling it into a birdnest as he used to before whenever Terzo got in his head and needed a distraction.
"Ay!" He shouts batting at his hand but at least he is glaring at him again instead of pouting dejectedly.
"I am happy for Copia, I suppose," he starts hesitantly smoothing his hair back into place. "It's just, we all worked hard too, and yes we may have not been as successful but without us to lay the ground work whose to say he would be 'rite here, rite now'." He waves his hands around, air quoting the title of the film dramatically.
"You are not wrong frattelino," he pauses before continuing trying to decide how to best console him. "But that is not what this story is about. It is about truly experiencing the moment you are in now, and not letting the times of the past or the what ifs of the future ruin it." His shoulders drop with a sigh so he wraps an arm around him squeezing him firmly.
"I just never got to..." He trails off but they both know what he was about to say.
"I know," he squeezes him again. "And none of that makes what they did to you right but that is in the past. People still love us no? We still have many praising us and screaming our names no matter what Copia does. We all have a place. Ours was over there, back then but who knows what the future will bring?" He stops when he sees his brother finally perking up.
"You are right I suppose," he shoots him a sideways glance. "This time at least." He picks up his phone and repositions his glasses on his nose. "I better delete all this then" He starts to tap away at the screen but Secondo stills his hand.
"I didn't say that," He says with a smirk. "You should add one about how his wig looks terrible."
"But Copia doesn't wear a... Oh!" They are far too old for this, Secondo thinks as they giggle like children coming up with more and more ridiculous complaints about the film. But right here, right now, he doesn't care.
#disclaimer: THIS IS A JOKE#i wasn't going to say except people can't be trusted to read properly#rite here rite now spoilers#the band ghost fic#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus ii#terzo#secondo#my writing
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baubles
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.
A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.
Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.
...
Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.
I've been a fuckin' good girl,
Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.
...
It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.
Except, this night is different.
It's Christmas Eve.
And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.
A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.
There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.
Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.
If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.
You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.
"Oh, shit."
A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.
Your umbrella clatters to the floor.
"What the...?"
The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.
Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.
"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.
"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."
He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.
And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.
"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"
He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.
"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.
"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"
He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.
He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."
Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.
Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.
You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.
You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.
"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"
He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.
When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.
By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.
"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"
You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.
"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.
"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"
Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.
"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"
"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.
"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"
Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.
"That's right. You feel that?"
You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.
"Get on your knees and close your eyes."
You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.
It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.
"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."
The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.
"Open your eyes."
You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.
His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.
But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.
"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.
His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.
"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.
"Santa works just fine."
Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"
"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."
"Santa Joel?"
"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."
You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.
Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.
Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.
The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.
He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.
Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.
"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.
"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."
Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.
"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.
Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.
Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.
"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.
You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.
"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."
"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.
Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.
The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.
"Got a present for you," he pants from behind you.
"The ornaments?"
"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."
He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.
Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.
"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.
"Good things come to those who wait."
"I'm still waiting for the coming part."
He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.
The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.
It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.
"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."
Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.
"What is -"
And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.
Oh. "Oh."
You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.
"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."
With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.
He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.
He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.
You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.
"That hurtin'?"
"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."
"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.
"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."
"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.
His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.
"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.
You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.
"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."
"F-fuuuck."
The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.
He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.
"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"
"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.
He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.
"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.
His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.
"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."
"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."
"Shit. Fuck."
You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.
"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.
For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.
"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.
Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.
"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."
"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.
He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.
When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.
Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.
No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.
next part
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#pedro pascal characters#coveted fics#big bawl jawl#never forget the balls#fic: dress up joel
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Peace
Synopsis: Life is full of chaos, stress, and anxiety. It helps when you have just a moment of peace with your favorite boys.
Pairing: Geto x Reader x Gojo
A/N: Just a cute fluff rq before my trip, also i will be getting “The Other Woman” Pt4 out tonight!❤️
*any homophobia/hateful comments or messages will be shamed first then removed. I do not condone any sort of harassment*
Word Count: 2.1k
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Being a college student meant waking up early and preparing yourself for upcoming lessons that were extremely long. The months had flown by and now you were about a week away from your first semester ending. With December came midterms, something you were not excited about. Between tests, solo projects, and restless nights spending the hours studying, it was hard for anyone on campus to find some peace. Thankfully, you have two people to share this feeling with and you all found ways to make the days go by better.
There was a repetitive humming sounding from your phone and it took everything in you to not turn it off and just go back to sleep. Winter made the apartment complex so cold and your blankets felt so nice, not even mentioning the two bodies resting on you. In front of you, a puff of white hair was blocking the bottom of your vision and his arms were not only wrapped around you, but also around the man behind you.
The other man’s arm was secured around your waist and you could feel his long hair tickling the back of your neck. Out of the three of you, you were always the first up, and it felt nice to listen to their comforting rhythms of their heart beats.
Disappointedly, it was a Tuesday so you couldn’t sleep in with your boys, and you were the most responsible, so you made the decision to wake up. Patting the hand that rested near your hips, you slowly turn your head, whispering,”Suguru, I need to get up.”
He gave a hum that sounded like he was agreeing, but instead of releasing you, he buried his head into the crook of your neck. You giggled as his grip on you only tightened,Suguruwas always so clingy in the mornings. A small groan of discomfort came from the front of you and your other boyfriend was tangling his legs with yours. Satoru was always clingy. No matter the time of day. Do I really want to go to classes today? You knew that if you were to email your teachers, saying you were sick, they would do it too in a heartbeat. No, I can’t miss anything that would help in the midterms.
With a saddened exhale, you reached up, sweetly petting Suguru’s soft hair (that you totally weren’t jealous of) and gently asked him again,”Love, I really need to get ready.” You felt Suguru’s shoulders drop in dissatisfaction, but he complied with your words and let you go. Smiling, you place a soft kiss to his cheek as a thanks and scooted off the mattress.
As you stood and stretched you heard Satoru whine slowly, probably from the loss of heat, but then a second later he was latching himself to Suguru. You shook your head in amusement, moving to the shared bathroom. The chill in your room was not pleasant and you grabbed one of your robes you would normally wear after a shower, but you needed some sort of warmth. When you flicked the lights on, you winced at the change of brightness and had to stand in the doorway rubbing your eyes. Once your eyes were situated, you closed the door behind you, and grabbed your toothbrush.
As you brushed your teeth, you stared at your reflection, which to you, was not an amazing sight. Still, even with the bed head and tired eyes, Satoru and Sugurutreated you like they woke up to a model. Speaking of them, you heard footsteps walking to the door and since Satoru was always the last to wake up without fail, it had to be Suguru. Like you expected, the man opened the door, walking sluggishly towards you with sleepiness still dragging him down,”Good morning, My love.” He mumbled into your hair as he planted a kiss on it.
Through the frothy toothpaste you nodded, letting out a gargled response. He just chuckled, grabbing his own tooth brush. When you finished, you grabbed your hairbrush, beginning to comb through your hair. Suguru cut off his faucet, watching you through the mirror,”Care to do mine when you’re done?” Was that even something he had to question? You loved playing with or styling Suguru’s hair, so you were quick to accept his request.
When your hair looked good, you walked behind Suguru, going out to the room where Satoru was still snoring peacefully. You walked in, giggling under your breath and when you looked up Suguru was raising his brow at you. You gestured to the open door, still laughing quietly,”He sleeps like a bear in hibernation.” Suguru leaned past the door, chuckling at his boyfriend's loud snores,”This odd thing is, he only does that when he’s in bed alone.”
You opened up a drawer, grabbing your supplies for Suguru’s hair and smirked,”Good, because I would have to kick him out if he snored like that with us.” Once you got the chair in place, Sugurusat down, yawning tiredly as you grabbed his comb. There was no need for words as you deranged his hair, you two didn’t need them to fill the space. The silence was comfortable. You loved mornings like these. Where there was no rush, everyone was getting up at their own time, and it was peaceful.
You hummed a small tune under your breath as you worked your way through his dark strands. Glancing at the mirror, you smiled a bit, because Suguruhad closed his eyes somewhere in your process and with each brush, he leaned more into your touch. You decided to do a half-up-half-down style for his long hair. His eyes cracked open gently as your fingertips grazed his skin.
Sadly, the quietness was interrupted by a loud yawn. Satoru had woken up and he stood listlessly. He scratched his abdomen, blinking at you and Suguru as he collected his consciousness. It didn’t shock you that he walked in without a shirt on, only wearing fluffy pj sweatpants. (ones that had wine bottles on them like he was a woman in his forties'.) Satoru was an automatic heater, so the cold didn’t deter him. You watched as the man strolled over, leaning down and tilting his head to kiss Suguru, then leaned up and stole another kiss from you.
“Good morning,” He croaked, a dopey smile across his lips. You snickered quietly,”Morning.” Suguru was on the brink of falling asleep again, so he only gave a little hum in response. You looked back down at Suguru’s hair, collecting the soft strands that covered his face and pulling them into a small ponytail. Satoru walked behind you, laying his body against yours. It felt pretty nice, since he just radiates heat. He laid his head on your shoulder, watching his lovers do their usual routine. As you flattened any of Suguru’s fly-aways, Satoru stuck to your back, unmoving even as you bent down and planted a small kiss to Suguru’s cheek.
When you rose back up, Suguru leaned into you, forcing you into a sandwich between them. Normally, you would push them away, half hearted saying you wanted to get dressed, but in that moment, you could only stare. Satoru’s eyes were closed and he breathed deeply on your shoulder. Geto could barely keep his eyes open but he had a small smile on his face as he examined himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the stress of school or the fact a major test was coming up, but you really hadn’t heard the sound of pure silence. Only accompanied by the quiet breathing of the men next to you.
It was a soothing sound, one you were used to, but often neglected. It didn’t seem important, but the world was so busy lately and the momentary rest gave you relief. It calmed your worries. Silence the panic in your head. Most of all, it allows you to see the beauty of utter peace. It was rare to find a moment like this and it was justified when Satoru let out a loud groan, startling both you and Geto as he began to start his day. The other two might not have noticed, occupied by their own thoughts, but you didn’t mind. As long as you were sharing the brief bit of tranquility with them.
۶ৎ
You stood close to the two men as you waited for the bus to arrive. To try and create some sort of warmth, you huddled close to Suguru, your back resting against his chest as one of his hands wrapped around your collarbone. Satoru was shifting on the balls of his feet, letting out puffs of breath, and trying to avoid freezing. Each of your noses were turning a soft shade of pink and you regretted not asking for an uber, but then you would have to pay for it and none of you wanted to do that. Swiftly, Satoru’s interest had changed, he perked up and turned to you both,”Did I tell you guys about the dream I had last night?”
You both shook your head and Suguru added on,”If it’s anything like the ones you usually have, then I don’t want to know.” Satoru waved him off, now getting closer to tell his story,”This one was super realistic but it was so weird.” You gave him an unimpressed stare,”Are you going to tell us what happened or keep beating around the bush.” He rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead in a scolding manner,”I’m trying to create an ambiance.”
“More like trying to make it sound more interesting than it is.” Suguru snickered, making you giggle quietly. Satoru did not appreciate the mocking and took a large step to the side, deciding to ignore both of his partners. You faced the sky, you and Suguru sharing a look. With a sigh, Suguru turned toward the man.(who was acting like a child)”We were just messing with you Satoru.”
The white-haired male huffed, pouting and looking away. You had to hide the amused smile on your face so Satoru would stop being a baby,”C’mon, you can’t stay mad at us forever ‘Toru.” Dammit, he thought. You knew Satoru was weak to that nickname. Begrudgingly he moved back to his original position, finding himself snug against you and Suguru,”Anyways,” he said with sass dripping from his tone,”Basically we all went to the same school,but the weird thing was we all had like powers. There were also these monsters that were called curses or something.”
You listened carefully, not expecting his dream to actually have an interesting plot,”You were able to create transparent weapons out of nothing, like full on use an invisible gun.” That sounded pretty badass to you, Satoru pointed to Suguru, who was just as attentive,”And you could seal the curses into little balls and use them whenever you wanted, but you had to eat it to use them.” Suguru’s nose scrubbed in disgust,”Seriously? Why couldn’t I get something cool like her.” He complained
Satoru held up his hands in fake defense,”Hey, I’m not the one who came up with the powers.” He snapped his fingers, pointing to himself,”Oh and guess what? I was some sort of prodigy from a clan with my last name and I have this thing where when my eyes glow, I have a barrier around me, so literally nothing could hurt me.” You and Suguruwere at a loss for words. You elbowed the man,”So it’s just a coincidence you were the strongest one?”
He blew raspberries at you, acting like this was some sort of prophecy and it was the universe's intent to make him the most powerful,”Sorry, babe, but only some of us can wield such great power.” Your jaw tighter at his arrogance,”I’m going to punch you.” He laughed loudly, pulling you away from the warmth of Suguruand into his own arms, planting obnoxious kisses to your face,”It’s okay, I’ll protect you no matter what.”
You couldn’t contain your giggles even when you half heartedly tried to shove Satoru off of you, reaching for Suguruin a pitiful attempt of escape,”Help me!” You squeaked, but the man was way to entertained to help. After what felt like hours, the bus arrived and Satoru had stopped attacking you with kisses a second ago, but he didn’t let you go, instead keeping you tucked into his side. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, Satoru seemingly remembered another factor of his dream,”Also, I forgot to mention I had this thing called like third—wait no, six eyes. I could see everything.”
You let out a chuckle,turning your head as you walked up the steps,”Can’t you do that already?” Satoru opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sugurucut him off,”It’s sounds like your powers are super boring Satoru,”
Even as you and Suguruwere already on the bus, Satoru kept pouting, whining behind you guys to stop making fun of him. Despite his pouting, he scrambled onto the bus, trailing right behind you.
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It was all there, in plain sight
Summary: Zane wants something she can't have.
She notices the pit in her chest only after she’s left Birchwood forest behind. It opens up where her heart would be, a black pit of longing she mistakes only slightly for loneliness and loss. There was someone she loved, once there and now gone. There was a life she had that was hidden from her, so the pit gnawed at her until she grew numb to the ache. It made sense, of course. What little she had left- her name, her face, the white sweater and white pants and cold hands- wasn’t enough to pad out the spaces her amnesia left behind. She looked for the rest of her heart in everything, searching for identity in cold still waters ponds and sunsets and the term elemental master the elderly man gave her when he asked her if she was prepared to face her destiny.
“I’m Jay.” The red haired boy greets her with a wave when she drops her meager belongings on the floor next to her bunk bed.
“Cole.” The other boy introduces himself with a crooked smile, “Yo.” He throws a peace sign up from where he’s laying in his own bed, sketch pad propped up on his lap.
“Hello.” She says formally, clasping her hands in front of her, “My name is Zane.” She refrains from adding I think to the end of her name, “It is nice to make your acquaintance.”
The chasm in her chest is a bearable pain, something that only itches at her in the gaps between training when the monastery is quiet and the two boys are preoccupied. She tries to find things to fill her life with- cooking, mostly. There are a handful of half-finished hobbies she’d tried and failed to integrate into her interests. Granny-square knitting scraps in a box under her bed, sewing needles and threads only pulled out to mend a tear in hers or the others robes after her first project has bored her, and a journal she’d abandoned when the pages she wrote were too empty for her to stomach.
Once, she tried drawing with Cole.
He doodles a drawing of her and shows it off with a grin- the boy in the picture seems so foreign to her that she almost asks Cole to throw it away. A sharp angled jaw, thick brow ridge and broad shoulders. Deep set eyes and hollow cheeks that only seem to accentuate the width of her face. Every part of her is rough and harsh. Handsome, but that doesn’t feel like a compliment when Cole or Jay says it to her. She thanks Cole and draws a picture of him in return- crude, not as skilled, but Cole appreciates it anyway.
Kai brings something with him that makes the cavern in her chest bleed- Nya. Nya, who has soft features and gentle hands. Beautiful, Jay sighs dreamily, and Zane wants that. She wants to be beautiful the way Nya is beautiful, the way the models on magazine covers and actresses in movies are. The pit in her chest has a razor edge now, and each time she compares herself to Nya and finds herself wanting she cuts open her heart on the sides. She tries her hand at makeup once, a few products Nya left in the bathroom that she plays with once day- her attempts are like that drawing she did of Cole. Crude, unskilled, clownish. So she washes her face and goes back to training and wants something she can’t have.
And she knows she can’t have it, because the one time she’d grazed her fingers over the femininity she desired she’d been laughed out of the room. A pink apron, so small and simple- a taste of a life she wanted so, so badly.
But she was a boy, and boys didn’t do things like wear pink aprons.
When she finds out she's a robot, the ache eases. It should go away- she knows who she is, she remembers her father, there’s not this big looming mystery clinging to the nape of her neck anymore. Her shoulders aren’t weighed down by a grief she wasn’t able to remember- sure, knowing brought with it a new pain, but there wasn’t any question to who she is. Zane, son of Dr. Julien. Robot. Hero. She could accept that. She could find peace with her past now- and yet the emptiness persists. Not so harsh, not at first- but over time, the chasm spreads until it feels like her whole body is an empty husky she inhabited.
“Father, if I wanted you to make a change in me, would you?” she asks her father after she finds him again, so close to putting into words a desire she was afraid to recognize.
“But Zane, you're perfect. I could never make you any better than you already are.” He smiles, reaches out to place his hand on her elbow with a squeeze, and she loses her nerve. Redirects the conversation to another persistent issue she had wanted to address as well, and doesn’t bring up the way her body doesn’t feel like it fits her anymore.
Maybe it never had- but then the world is ending, and there’s no time to think about that anymore.
And then a year later, the world is ending again and she pays all she has to prevent it.
She meets another android right before she gives up her life to save the world, and Pixal is everything Zane wants to be. She is beautiful, and she can convince herself it might be love when the pit her body is made of floods with a longing so deep her soul aches with it. She wants to ask her what it’s like- to be a girl.
Is it as wonderful as it looks? Is it as fulfilling as she imagines it would be?
She’s dead before she can form the words.
When she rebuilds her body in the blackness of Borg towers basements, she curves her jaw. She softens the harsh lines her father had sculpted her with, blending out solid planes into gentle features that hinted femininity. Not too much, careful to make it so slight that her friends won't look twice. Just enough to slake the hunger in her chest. Just barely enough to stifle her longing.
She touches her body the same way, adds weight to her hips and thins her waist to give the slightest impression of an hourglass figure. She considers her chest and again she wants what she can't have. She sends the blueprints to the machine before her heart breaks over a life that's not hers and she steps out of the machine in a body that's never going to be quite right.
But she's alive again, and there’s work to be done.
In the darkness of that cell in Chen's dungeon, she experiences heartbreak all over again when her memories flood back and she's reminded that she is a boy. In the spaces between memory, she knows what she isn’t. Memory brings reminder. There’s no escaping the words written down in her code. She can leave the island behind but she’s not free, not really.
Tox and Chamille and Nya and Skylor all cluster together and she wants so badly her core seems to wither with the force of it.
Pixal asks, “Is everything alright?” Because her fans stutter with physical pain at the cruelty of it all.
And she’s never been more grateful that Pixal’s abilities in her head are limited- she can’t read her mind, can’t look into her memories and see the longing living in her every breath. “I am fine.” She says, because there is no other option.
In a set of memories that are not hers to keep, she stares as a villain across a chessboard who says “Then I take it you do not want to make a wish…”
And he smiles at her like he knows. Like he can look right down directly into her heart to see a desire she would never voice, a want so so desperately shoved down and strangled because it simply wasn’t allowed. He’s giving her a golden ticket, a smoking gun to fix everything that’s ever been wrong with her life- it would be a simple, easy wish. Something that rewrote history to suit her needs.
I wish I was a girl, and that I always have been.
But she had a plan, and there was no room for this wish in the precious three she had to use.
She’s always been good at compartmentalizing. She could put her emotions away- this was harder, more insidious, but with time and effort she could make the ache a blanketing numbness instead. She fought just the same, cooked like always, and was for all intents and purposes normal- the disconnect she felt with her body was put away, and it didn't affect her duties as a ninja. That was paramount. Of course, it didn’t matter in the end- they lost. the Destiny's Bounty was crushed and it was pure luck that they had the mind to remember Mystakes tea with enough time to use it. Ninjago fell and they were trapped worlds away with no way back in sight.
Things were starting to look up now, though. The Iron baron was on their tail, but with Faith on their side they had put considerable distance between them. For the first time in a long while, things didn’t seem so bleak.
Faith had approached her while she was readying lunch, helping her prepare the meager supplies they had into a decent meal.
“I apologize,” She began quietly, breaking the lull of silence between them, “For mistaking you for a man.” she’s not sure why she brings it up, just that it feels important to say.
Faith's lips curl up ever so slightly, “Thank you.” There’s another pause, “...You didn’t.”
She glances at Faith, confused.
Faith clarifies, “You never used him in reference to me.” She sets the bowl down and studies her, searching for something. She doesn’t know what to say, so she stirs the pot of noodles while Faith comes to a realization. her mouth forms a perfect o before she schools her expression, looking away. “...I wasn’t always a woman.” She sets the words out gently between them.
She drops the spoon and has to clamber to pick it back up, “You were not?” She asks, looking over at the huntress with wide eyes.
“It is a bit of an oversimplification.” Faith admits, “But no. I was born a boy, and I realized I was a woman later in life.”
“Oh. I have… never heard of that before.” She finds herself whispering, the information overwhelming and too big to deal with in the hot desert sun so far from home. It feels like something slots into place- a reality worth pursuing suddenly just over the horizon. No more longing, no more ache-
“I apologize too.” Faith says softly, eyes sparkling with a new kind of warmth, “I didn’t know we were… family.”
She’s always been one to take someone's words at face value, but she understands Faith's words for what they are the moment they leave her mouth. We’re the same. I see you.
Her throat feels too thick to respond so she just finishes lunch and calls the other over to eat, leaving the conversation to repeat in her head over and over again.
After everything, on a day where the team is sprawled out in the living room trying to unwind after twelve hours of rebuilding work in downtown Ninjago, she blurts it out. While clearing rubble or carrying around building materials she’d been running a search program in the back of her head- pinging more and more resources that give the emptiness and desire inside her a name. She found others who felt the same, reading through post after post of personal stories that all voiced her own private thoughts openly and honestly.
Suddenly the world is alight with poetry and videos and potential, boundless possibility to remake who she pretends to me into who she is. The other women on the internet link hands with her and offer her a community she has been deprived of- and her life is her own. Transgender and transcendent and trans joy.
“I’m a girl.” She announces into the room, because now that she knows all there is to know- now that she knows it's allowed she won’t live another second in this identity that crushes her chest and chokes her spirit.
It’s the first time she’s ever said it.
As her friends surround her, she's met with unconditional support and a life worth living spread out in front of her feet.
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mini me
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summary: dad!ony and his mini me
cw: suggestive towards the end
word count: 1.1k
part 2
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
your son was only eight years old, but because of his father he acted way older. whether it be how he talked or how he would handle different situations it was easy to tell that he was “ony’s kid”.
it was a satuday morning. you had just finished up breakfast, making finishing touches on your son omari’s plate before you saw him and his father walk in. you had to cover your mouth to contain your laughter when you got a look at what they were wearing. ony had on his dark grey durag, black tank top fitting snug on his broad chest with his black and white plaid pajama pants hanging low on his hips. white dry fit socks covering his feet in his resin yeezy slides. over the years he’s bulked up, converting most of the weight he’s gained from your cooking into muscle.
omari had on the same exact thing, but since he was so small everything looked so baggy. his tank top fit loosely on his little chest while you can tell he rolled his pajama pants at least twice for them to fit his small waist. the only things that fit right were his socks and slides since they were both things that you gifted him. the cutest thing was their durags though. the suede fabric looked nice on their heads with a small “o” on the strings so when they tie them up it can show. “g’morning beautiful” ony said as he sat down in front of his plate.
his morning voice always sounded so good. of course your son mirrored his actions, sitting down in front of his plate as well before greeting you. “g’morning momma. you look pretty” you can tell he was lowering his voice, puberty not yet hitting him to give him the same gravely tone as his father. you chuckled, walking over to them to fill their cups with orange juice. “good morning boys. what y’all getting into today.” ony began cutting into his french toasts, pouring syrup on them before moving his knife to cut omari’s up as well. “finna take man man to the park to shoot some hoops wit me.” omari nodded in agreement. “finna show all the girls my skills and they gon be chasing after me. right dad?” ony nearly choked on his spit, grabbing his cup to sip on his orange juice to wash it down.
you didn’t miss his arm nudging your son’s, signaling him to keep quiet. “excuse me? what girls?” omari opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by his father. “it’s nun mama he just talking. right peanut?” ony and omari looked at each other, silently communicating about what to say next. “uhh y-yea. m’just talking momma.” you rolled your eyes at this. they were basically the same person in two different bodies. “whatever boy just stay outta trouble.” you said, pointing your finger at them before walking off into your room. you took your silk robe off before slipping into bed, matching silk nightgown fitting nicely on your body as you scrolled through different shopping sites for some new clothes.
it wasn’t even twenty minutes later when you seen the two troublemakers back in your line of vision, just itching to bother you. you looked up at them from your phone. “what y’all want now?” the both of them instantly putting their hands up in defense. “what i dooo?” they say in unison. you sighed as you gave them a bored expression. they drop their hands and walked closer to you, standing at the side of your bed. “we want you t’come to the park wit us. right little man?” ony looked down at his twin, nodding towards you for him to add on. “mhmm. dad likes- uh i mean i love when you come to the park with us.” you smirk up at your husband. he had his eyes on the ceiling as he tapped his foot on the ground, waiting for you to reply.
“is this something you want or is this something your dad wants?” you knew what ony was trying to do. you absolutely hated going to the park. the gnats and the blazing sun always seeming to bother you when you were trying to relax, but you also couldn’t say no to your baby. he was always so polite and he never asked for much. your husband used that to his advantage, which you highly disliked. you had a plan though. everything comes with a price with you. “because if this is something daddy wants i need him to ask me himself. or else i can’t go because i’d hate to be a burden to one of you.” now omari was also looking up at ony, waiting for him to reply to you. “gon head and get dressed peanut. me and mommy gotta talk.” he said, shifting his eyes from the white ceiling to your brown ones.
“make sure you say ‘please’ dad. be polite.” omari whispered before doing what he was told and going to his room to get ready. after you heard your door close, you watch as ony began to lean down towards you, one arm grabbing on to the headboard while his other one rested on your pillow, right by your head. “what i gotta do for you t’say ‘yes’ mama.” he said, deep voice rumbling in his chest. you pulled out your phone, unlocking it before showing him the screen. it was a purple lingerie set in your cart with a bunch of other different things as well, ranging from toys and handcuffs to different pieces of clothing. “i want you the clear my cart today. since mari’s going to his grandparents next saturday.”
the corner of ony’s mouth raised as he scrolled through your cart, stopping at the pair of black fuzzy handcuffs. you peeked over your screen to see what he was looking at before explaining the use of the item. “you broke the last pair.” your husband nodded his head in realization before standing upright. “tryna give me another kid, huh mama?” you shrugged your shoulders. “hmm maybe.” ony made his way to his nightstand, pulling out his card before tossing it to you on the bed. “gon head and get whatever you want. sexy ass.” he mumbled before walking towards your shared closet to pull out his sneakers. as he looked through the closet you heard three knocks on your door, letting you know your son has arrived from his room.
“come innn” you sing before he made his way in, instantly walking up to his father. he had on his little black tech suit with his slides on his feet and his basketball sneakers in his hand. “what’d she say? did you say please?” he whispered. ony looked at you, smirking as he began to think about the fun the two of you will be having next weekend. “yea little man…she said yea.”
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(Shapeshifter Adam)
Lilith had enough of married life, Lucifer was so clingy and annoying. So she went and made a deal with Heaven, they give a nice home in Heaven and she wouldn’t contact Lucifer ever again. They had a plan of their own to have someone pretend to be her and see if Adam was planning an uprising against Heaven. What they didn’t know was that it was her plan and Lucifer knew nothing about it. Her mouth dropped in shock when she saw what looked like her walk in, but she recognized angelic white, lavender, and gold robes with gold spikes and that stylized A that looked like a dick.
Lilith: Adam….
Adam: What do you think, I think I wear your face better than you do.
Sera: Adam has a very powerful shape shifting ability, he was even able to replicate your voice.
Lilith: Don’t you think he will get suspicious when he sees that I have a dick?
In response Adam lifted his robes and instead of a dick there was a pussy.
Adam: No dick, I just need that dress and crown. I will just sneak into palace before he gets home from the meeting.
Adam put everything on that Lilith provided and then he was sent to the royal palace of Hell. The horns would take some getting used to since they were heavy. Just then he heard the door open and Adam felt his heart flutter seeing his one true love. He had a bouquet of lilies which was Lilith’s favorite flowers. Adam wished that they could have been sunflowers since they were his favorite, but he loved getting flowers too.
Adam: How was the meeting Luci?
Lucifer: Tiring, Mammon pissed off someone as usual, but I am happy to be home with my Lili.
Adam leaned down as Lucifer stood on the tips of his toes as they kissed. The kiss was everything Adam dreamed of and more. While Lucifer handed Adam the flowers he wondered why what he thought was Lilith had called him Luci when the only person who called him that was Adam.
Maybe he was just hearing things. Maybe she said "Lu" and he was just adding the last part in his mind. But then it happened again and he knew that he was hearing it for sure.
Adam: I'm happy you're home too Luci, what would you like to do?
Lucifer knew he wasn't hearing things now. Only Adam had ever called him Luci, Lilith would always call him Lu if she wanted to use a pet name. Was this.....?
Lucifer smirked: Well, my dear, if you're interested I would love nothing more than to lay with my beautiful wife.~
Adam flushed, he was actually going to have sex with Luicfer. He felt himself get wet at the thought.
Adam: Well of course.~
He offered Lucifer his hand and Lucifer led the way to the bedroom. Adam had never felt such pleasure in his life as Lucifer ate him out and then they made love.
Luicfer noted that "Lilith's" breasts were actually bigger and he sucked and kissed on them as he thrusted into Adam.
Adam: Oooh!~ Oh yes!~
This was better than he ever dreamed it would be.
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