#and a tiny bit of clank

[autisticsonic]

a category 5 autism event

[screampied]

‘ SHE’S A VERY KINKY GIRLLL ?! ★

geto, toji, choso, gojo, nanami, sukuna. jjk men finding out your nasty little kinks

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, size kink, spıt, daddy kink, hair pulling, shibari, premature ejaculatıon, first time squırt, size differences, dirty talk, praise, brēeding, blindfolds, spānking, overstim, phone sēx.

wc. 4.8k

☆ NANAMI KENTO + hair pulling.

“you’re gonna get me fired, sweetheart,” nanami jokes, a dry laugh following his words. he had you right where you wanted - bent over, arched right over his work desk like some slut. not that you minded, you were needy. the rumbles of the old wooden desk continues to scream out creaks and creaks until it sounds like a broken record. nanami’s belt buckle occasionally rubs against your skin, the repetitive clanks it makes on your flesh has you throbbing for more. “oh my, such a nasty girl. ‘s this what you wanted? for me ‘ta stop what ‘m doin’ to give you a little more attention?”

“y- yes, ‘ken,” you whine, not even caring that your was face was practically being shoved into his unkempt pile of documents. as your cunt’s being stretched open by the size of his twitching shaft, your lips part into a circular open shape. “mmf,” and you pause, feeling a familiar calloused hand grab onto the back of your head. a tiny yank suffices and your pussy pulses almost immediately from the pull. nanami felt it, and so did you. “do .. do that again, kento. please.”

with a low, timbre chuckle, his hips come to a sudden halt. “oh,” he mutters, and he’s a bit more amused at your sudden arousal. gentle fingers skim near your waist, another focusing on the crown of your head before he hums. “do what again, my sweet? pull your hair?” and you whine once more as those silk words pour from his lips like dripping honey. you were desperate, grinding back your ass against him in carnal want. with a soft smile, he gives your hair a more tugging yank before starting up again. “why of course. anything for the kinky wife, hm?”

nanami was balls fucking deep, every time he’d deepen and piston his strokes with his hips, your moans only get louder. he’s so thorough too, not missing a single spot with his cock that’s simply rummaging through your goopy insides. “k- kennn,” you whine, hearing his breathing significantly pick up from behind you. raspy, gruff pants from nanami bellow out from his raw vocal chords. it’s sexy, every few seconds he’d take a glance at his watch to check the time. you were gonna get him in trouble. “harder, mhm. h- harder.”

nanami smiles, and he’s so stuffed inside of you that he’s molding a little bulging mark that’s all due to the size of his thick cock. “make up your mind, my love,” he mutters in a low voice—beads of sweat racing down each sides of his face. his irregular pants doesn’t become unnoticed, and the grip against your hair tightens to your liking. “hey, goin’ somewhere? don’t run, gorgeous. you want me to pull so ‘m gonna pull.”

and you moan, feeling the elastic stretch of his girth blowing a fuse through your cunt. he finds the way you try to crawl forward from his dick, but only grabs you right back. it feels good, you’re shivering and not just from his touch. already, your knees start to weaken and buckle as he’s got you hunched over his desk, staring face first into various piles of papers he was supposed to be signing. instead, he was buried deep into your needy cunt, making it cry out squelches over and over on repeat.

“m gonna c- cum,” you babble out, although you weren’t even sure if that’s what the build up pressure was. as you clench down on your jaw, it’s something else. your breathing becomes a bit more pitched and you whine, fisting a ball within your hand, knuckles burning a single color. “kento, kento f- fuckkk. ‘s gonna come out.”

“make a mess, don’t be shy.” he gets right up close against your ear, his grip being a bit more secure.

your head tosses itself back and he flashes you a warm grin, lust and desire all in his mahogany brown eyes. “atta girl,” he purrs once he sees the white form in your eyes, you’re rolling them back toward the outer sockets until you’re not even seeing color anymore. succumbing and falling into the blissful pleasure, you gush out. nanami pauses, his cock’s remaining to tuck itself into your sobbing cunt before your orgasm finally shrieks out your throat. “there it is,” he brings a kiss toward the nape of your neck. you twitch, your body sending itself a wave of convulsing jitters as you’re coming undone on his dick.

the room suddenly feels hot, or maybe it was just you. nanami blinks twice, feeling your pussy continue to release itself for a few moments before he peers down. with a soft grin, he furrows a brow as a thumb bedaubs a long stripe down your soddened slick opening.

“did you just .. squirt on me, sweetheart?” and there’s a bit of wry humor in his voice. with a hand still raking against your head, his thumb still collects a swab of your filthy slick before he pops the same finger into his mouth. sliding his tongue around to savor your taste, he hums. “you did.”

☆ GETO SUGURU + phone sex.

i touch myself just thinkin’ about you.

geto always knew you had a thing for listening to his voice. you ended up 'accidentally' letting him know of your little kink and he now calls you every time he’s away. he’s a busy man, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never make time for his pretty baby. with two crumped up fingers curling inside of your weeping cunt, you dial his number by heart.

on the second ring he answers in a sly, “hey girl.”

maybe you were a little dramatic, but the abrupt twitch that ghosts against your exposed pussy makes you whine. a raspy chuckle breaks through the phone speaker and it’s a bit staticky. “sugu,” you pant, and you were already so close. so so close to your inevitable, incoming release. through short millisecond heaving breaths, you speak in a needy voice. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more, baby,” he whispers, and you can hear his heavy pants through the other line. “fuck,” he murmurs, purposely growing silent to hear the slippery slick sloshes of your responsible cunt in the background. “don’t tell me you’re playing with her when ‘m not here, aw.”

you dip your two fingers inside of your pussy, coating the entirety of your digits with your moist before pouting. putting the phone on speaker, you slouch. “s- sorry, you’ve been fightin’ all day ‘n i was just imagining my fingers were yours.”

“you were, yeah?” a low voice replies, and you can hear how his voice pitches deeper. it’s low, your throbbing only intensifies and you bite your lip. as you multitask, occupying your hand by holding the phone, another with fingers burying itself into your cunt, you sigh. “mhm, baby’s all out of fuckin’ breath. you close?”

“y- yesss,” you start to babble, feeling a wave of crashing shockwaves pulse through your clit. the shock of it all was electrifying - surging all through you. your eyes flick back for a bit until you’re seeing splashes of obsidian black. “keep talkin’ to me suguru, please. your voice ‘s gonna make me cum.”

he stays quiet for a few seconds before purring in a seductive voice. “oh baby,” and his pants against the line was enough to make your legs give out. your pathetic little fingers could never compare to geto’s. his was far thicker and longer, easily stretching out your cunt with just a few thrusts. you could almost drool from imagining him easing your tight walls with his two beloved digits. whether it was his dick, fingers, or even his long slick tongue, he knew how to make you feral.

“silly girl, you there? i said you can cum.”

“o- oh, sorry,” you whine, snapping out of your short fantasm. and with your fingers still shoved into your wet opening, you lean back against the cushioned mattress behind you. “s- suguruuu,” you whimper, hearing his candied sweet praises in the background. he’s telling you all the right words and you could tell he was probably touching himself from the few subtle grunts that would escape from his lips every few pausing seconds. the moment you come undone, it’s short and quick. it’s within a quick as a blink of an eye, one minute you’re whining and the next you’re covering your two slender digits with sprays of your juices. “ngh, fuck s- suguru.”

he snickers to himself, even his laugh was attractive on its own — it's husky, it turns you on a lot more than you thought it did. as you’re trying to calm down from your most recent release, geto hums into the phone. “god i wish i was with you right now. wanna see the mess you fuckin’ made,” and as he pauses to breathe, geto groans. “i already know you’re on my side of the bed too, messy girl.”

“y- yeah,” you murmur with a sheepish smile.

sucking his teeth, geto has a cunning grin forming on his lips before he responds. “ah, such a brat. but y’know what you can do for me until i get home, baby?” and once you respond a sweet ‘what’, geto speaks huskily. “put those fingers in your mouth ‘n your mouth ‘n send me a pic of it.”

“can you send me a audio of you whining though?” you plead, still panting.

as he tchs at your little question. geto eye rolls, secretly loving how you always wanted something in return. “yeah. but don’t blame me if ‘s like twenty minutes long though.”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN + shibari.

you were sukuna ryomen’s favorite,

the minute you bring up wanting to try shibari with him, something lights up within him. oh, he’s adored shibari for centuries. eons. loving nothing more than to tie his precious lover up and have his way with them. so when you tell him you grew a special liking to it, he just had to indulge in your fantasies.

“tell me if it’s too tight, little one,” he purrs, his voice as rough as ever. you felt the brief tightening of the ropes around your body, securing your weight as you dangle near his chambered walls. your nude body’s like art to him. an empty canvas he’d soon fill with his own type of paint. you give him a nod, gasping once he restrains you in a way so that your legs sprawl widely open for him. “hmmm,” he groans, getting right behind you.

his growl sends you shivers, your cunt’s sopping wet and he brings a hand to feel against your body. sukuna’s touch itself was hypnotic.

“you’re already soaked, how amusing,” and judging from the devilish rasp in his tone, he sounds offended. leaning up against your ear, he dips a single finger inside. “tell me, did these filthy fingers touch her while i was away?”

“n- no,” you mumble, the soft padded strokes of his fingertips making your head throw itself back. he was right behind you, you were hanging with the safe gripping of ropes securing your thighs open before you moan. “didn’t touch myself all day, ‘kuna. waited for you to c- come back.”

“don’t like when my girl lies,” he snarls, and you moan again once he gifts the entrance of your cunt a mean smack. it’s rude—the way his palm hits against your folds causes the very center of his hand to get coated with your wetness. he’d be lying himself if he said that didn’t turn him on. in fact, with the attention he’s giving your pussy, it’s making his dick twitch beneath the expensive homemade fabric of his royal kimono. “ugh, gettin’ me hard,” and he pauses before another finger delves inside. you’re whining, feeling how easily he stretches your opening up with two solid digits. as your legs remain to spread, his eyes flicker toward the rope that’s got a nice grip against your breasts. “mhm, such a pretty body though. would be a shame to edge ya right now.”

“s- sukuna,” you whimper, leaning furthermore into his touch. a curling of your toes starts to make an appearance before he swirls both fingers in and out of your pussy. he’s so deep, a long dragging meal dies from your throat rawly before you’re already being pulled into a teetering orgasmic edge. “fuck, ‘s good. your fingers- please don’t s- stop.”

“quiet, princess,” he warns you, you throb from the mature authority in his voice. with his fingers getting lost into the deep never-ending exits of your cunt, you squelch all around his fingers. scarlet, ruby eyes stare at your exposed body and a long forked tongue licks against his lips. “keh, imaginin’ you touch my pussy ‘s almost laughable,” and your jaw hangs itself down the moment his lengthy digits locate your g-spot. it doesn’t take him long at all. with a sly smile compressing against his lips, sukuna brings a kiss toward your neck. “oh, you’re so predictable. you want me to tie you up but you have the audacity to touch yourself. ‘n ya can’t even do it right at that, you poor thing.”

his words did something to you — it wasn’t pity, no, it was more of him teasing you. maybe a sprinkle of humility, but either way, you throbbed from it regardless. and yet, the last thing you expect is for the demon to get right in front of you, leveling his head down toward your open legs before licking against your sweet cunt. “s- sukuna,” you whine, and your first instinct was to grab onto his hair for support. but then it dawned on you. you couldn’t, you were tied up. damn it all.

you’re shivering from his flat tongue. he’s like a cat, giving it a few subtle sloppy licks. the texture of his forked tongue makes you shudder before he pulls his mouth back. that’s all he’d give you for now. “mhm,” he grumbles, pressing a thumb against your pulsating twitching muscle. once he sees your pout, he chuckles. “oh, do you want me to continue?” and you nod, desperate for his tongue to go back to its place. “very well.”

and sukuna brings a sharp blackened fingernail towards your folds, gently grazing it near your nub before a tongue slowly slithers its way over his lips. you gulp, meeting eye contact with the king of curses.

and now, he knew what his brand new meal was.

☆ GOJO SATORU + blindfolds.

“thaaaat’s.. kinda kinky, gojo flashes a coy grin, carefully tying his blindfold around your eyes. once he secures a little knot near the back, he hums in amusement. “but okay. jus’ lie back, angel. ‘m gonna take good care of my girls.”

his ‘girls’ being his most precious beings which was—

you, what’s between your legs, and of course, your tits too.

but with those, he’d tend to them another day. right now, he was focused on you from behind. as his weight’s directly pressed up against you, he smears his leaky tip against your entrance with one hand. “easy, good girl. jus’ feel, let ‘toru the talkin’ angel,” and his body heat was so hot against yours. you pout from his teasing because he’s not even fucking you yet - but he just wants to toy with you for a bit. as his blindfold’s tied over your eyes, he makes your wrists pin behind your back. “so pretty like this.”

“s- satoru,” you frown and once he makes your back arch, you slump forward. gojo grabs a hand full of your ass before squeezing it. with a spank, it recoils against your skin before he’s sinking his way into your drenched cunt. “mhm,” you bite your lip, and the tremendous shaking starts. he’s thin, his cock was even thinner, but the fat girth solely makes up for it. with a gasping whine and your mouth becoming ajar, he’s splitting you open. it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out, getting you in nothing more but a prone bone position. “fuck me, f- fuck meee.”

“m tryin’ to,” he huffs, groaning at the way his peeling foreskin sinks its way into your clingy cunt. your grip was so good that it makes it fall back effortlessly. but fuck, he’s already about to cum. one pump champ satoru, he talks a big game for someone who can barely last sometimes. it’s been a while and he didn’t expect for you to feel so good. “s- shit.”

gojo grunts, swollen fat shaft making an attempt to bully its way into your walls. you’re still facing forward, your vision replaced with nothing but pitch darkness before you whine in rapture. he grabs onto your neglected tits, playing with your nipples with the hot tips of his thumbs, and that’s when he starts humping against you. it’s sloppy slow thrusts, grinding his rotating hips against your core as he’s trying to start up a pace but the sensation creeps up against him. “oh, f- fuckkk,” he groans lowly, snowy brows contorting together in pleasure. you’re sucking him in so good, swallowing him whole with your pussy it’s almost embarrassing. as your stomach caves in, you start to pant. chasing your breath ridiculously as if it was a marathon race—gojo was mirroring your actions. it was cute,

your body underneath him continues to jolt before his hand finds its way around your throat, wrapping around like a snake. a thumb caresses the tiny hairs that stand up against your neck before he spanks you.

again, and again and again,

“f-fuck, gonna make me cum. slutty little— hngh.”

right as he’s speaking, gojo spurts out a few droplets of cum, and it turns into a whole bucket. his teeth was shattering, jaw lowering itself open as he’s giving you a nice amount of warm, seasoned cum. it was raunchy, you’re struggling to stay still yourself as your arms could barely hold up your twitching body. your cunt was squelching for all of him and only him, puckering hole just aching to be filled that your tongue stupidly lolls itself out for a few seconds. you still can’t see, yet you can feel everything.

“s- sato—”

“be quiet, wanna listen,” he whines, lightly shoving your head into the mattress. with an oof, your head goes into the pillow as he’s dumping such loads of raw cum right into your welcoming hole. it’s a lot, it’s got him drooling all down your neck, he hates finishing early but he couldn’t help it. gojo’s shaking just as much as you are, pink lips of his press together as he stares at himself pumping you full. with a greedy pout, he flips you over abruptly and snatches his blindfold off you.

still feeling his slimy ropes of cum pour out your pussy and alongside toward the edges of your thighs, you meet his hungry gaze and he’s so needy for more. spreading open your legs, he gets a single taste of his own seed before nibbling against your cunt. “hold still. i- i need to clean you. let me eat, ‘m fuckin’ starved.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO + breeding.

“give me a baby, ‘cho.”

once those sweet five words come from your lips, his eyes widen. leering into them, all you could see was pure lust.

choso was always aware about your breeding kink, how you loved to milk his cock over and over and over again.

and despite knowing he’s infertile - a mere half curse half human being, chances were that he probably wouldn’t even able to give you what you really wanted. except, you liked to pretend. and besides, thanks to you—he started to develop a little breeding kink of his own.

“a b- baby,” he repeats, his words in the mere form of a sweetened question mark. choso’s got you laid on your back, stuffing your cunt full of cock before he pauses. with a thumb stroking your cheek, he has a timid smile. “how many do you want this time, princess?”

playing along, you hum to yourself— throwing your arms over his shoulders. “hmm, let’s try for triplets this time,” and you bring him toward you, planting a kiss against his forehead before feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt. “can you do that for me baby? leave me full like last time?”

“yeah,” he nods, admiration sparkling in his eyes. the more he stared into your blown, doe irises, the more he falls in love. in love with love, in love with you. choso’s rough hands meet yours, intertwining with your fingers as they tangle with might before he starts up again. “m- mhm, i can do that. i can .. i can give you triplets, promise.”

he was so determined, he didn’t wanna disappoint.

choso’s pace was simply relentless. despite how sweet and tender he was, his rhythmic hips that struck deeply into your core was an entire different story. as bodies move and dance against each other in harmony, you whine against his ear. rough yet sweet yet passionate. “like that, choso. f- fuck, right there baby. don’t miss, p- please.”

your voice were so close up to his earlobe that he could hear the warmth of your breath cascading down from your lips. oh, you sounded like an angel. so harmonic and blissful. it makes his dick throb whilst it’s still plummeting in and out of your insides. skin against skin, it mercilessly slaps against each other, pap and papping away so roughly that it makes your toes curl. “promise, ‘m not gonna miss. gonna g- give you so much, ‘s gonna pour out so much, baby,” and he was even more whinier than you. with breaths of his own leaving out of his filled up lungs, he squeezes against your sprawled out thigh. “ugh, you’re so warm. ‘m not gonna last this time i think. o- oh.”

the thrashing crown of his cock extends inside of your walls and he leans in to kiss you. once, then twice, then thrice. choso’s lips were sweet like candy, as he’s rutting into you — your gummy walls gripping onto him tightly, it starts to pour into you in tiny volumes. it’s so thick, it’s so much that he starts to drool into your mouth. choso slows down as a wadding knot dribbles its way into your welcoming cunt. he whimpers as your lips mash against his, sucking against his tongue. “s- so much, so much to give you, pretty,” he babbles, breaking away from your lips a bit.

you pant right along with him, he goes back to holding your hand, giving it a firm squeeze before his eyes turn hooded. sable drawn pupils never leaves yours, and his cheeks flush with adorable heat. “that’s it baby, jus’ let go ‘n fill me up okay?”

as he’s growing quiet, listening to the sloppy tune between your legs pitch louder, he groans. piles and piles of cum pour into your cunt. it’s so much that it’s not even humanly possible to take it all. so it spills out, right between the crevices of your thighs. it’s insanely gooey, choso stares at it and he’s got the most smug cute grin, knowing he did that. it’s warm and sticky. his ears ring all at once as his tip’s still emitting such ropes of velvety seed into your entrance. “mhm, baby. you always t- take it so well.” he huffs, feeling the weight of his chest deflating. you remain still, laid against the bed frame as he’s just basking in your gorgeous sight. you looked like an angel to him. no, you were an angel, especially with how you were always so cute whenever he came inside. you were moaning just as much as him, eyebrows furrowing and mouth shaped wide and open, so so pretty.

with a huffing sigh, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “thank y- you, ‘cho. feels so good.”

“should be thanking you,” he murmurs, his voice a bit more deep and raspy. as he’s still positioned between your legs, choso grabs your palm, giving it a sweet kiss. mwah after mwah, the texture of his lips couldn’t have been even more warmer. you were so full of cum that you couldn’t even move. you just stayed there, staring deep into his eyes before he whispers against your ear. “marry me, p- please. wanna give you quadruplets next time, baby. be my wifey.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO + daddy kink.

“tch. can never work out without you givin’ me some shit,” he groans as your hips picks up its pace briskly.

toji, being nothing but the usual of covered in perspiring sweat, wears a simple white tee with basketball shorts. lazily, he slouches back against the bench. scheming green eyes peer at your twitching body and your sloppy cunt makes him gnaw on his lip. a big hand, calloused and all squeezes against the fat of your ass. the curvature, he acknowledges every little angle before tracing his fingers alongside your hips. “ya didn’t miss me, you missed dick, huh?”

“i.. i did miss you, toji,” you lie through your teeth, feeling the milky ring around his base stick against your rear. just a few moments ago, he’d just gotten done pumping a load into you. with toji, it was always a lot. he never half assed anything. you’ve been riding him for so long you were surprised your legs didn’t up and give out. collapsing and buckling from his fat cock. “i- missed you s’much, daddy.”

it was an abrupt pause — the silence was strikingly deadly.

a thin brow of his quirks up in amusement before he brings your hips to a sudden stop. you whine, seeing the stretching smirk grow against his face. the scar slashed near the right side of his lips curls in gladden before he grabs your chin. “missed who?”

“missed you, toj-”

“girl don’t fuckin’ play with me,” he side eyes you, gingery peeling your bottom lip down with his thumb. he inches his face closer, and you could smell the intoxicating whiskey on his breath. “who’d you miss? repeat that, y’know ‘m losin’ hearin’ in my right ear, heh.”

he was so sassy, you wanted to roll your eyes but you couldn’t even bother with how stuffed your cunt was. the stretch, another whine was about to rip straight from your throat before you lean into his touch. speaking shyly, you moan as he spanks your ass for you to hurry up. “missed you, daddy,” and the moment toji starts to bounce his thigh, your breathing starts to pick up. the friction has you weak, his jade, verdant eyes staring into your soul. “missed you all day.”

“mhm, y’er a weirdo,” he snickers, feeling his dick throb within you once you call him that. with his muscles flexing idly, you get the urge to touch all around them. so you do, running a hand up his burly biceps before he grabs your wrist. “no touchin’ daddy, gotta say please first. we talked about this, babygirl.”

hearing him address himself as your little kink makes your cunt twitch. as you try to create a bit a movement with your hips, he spanks your ass once more, baring a fang slyly at the gripping fat that recoils from his palm. “t- toji,” and he smacks your ass again, giving you a raising brow. “i mean daddy, can- can i c..cum, please?”

“hnnn,” he grunts lowly, his voice a mere vibration of itself. with the way his tone was so deep, it was raw and scratchy. throaty, he’s still buried into you and your cunt’s still deliriously sobbing for more. you just wanted to move, your arms sling around his broad shoulders before you whimper into his ear. “wanna cum on daddy, eh,” and your eager nod against his chest makes him chortle. you were so eager, entirely so — as you try to create haste, he rolls his eyes. “fine, give it to me.”

and the moment he complies to your desperate wants, you came, giving into your lewd pleasure with the cutest moan leaving your throat. you’re shaking within his hold, two rough hands sliding down your waist as he rests a chin against your neck.

“good, good girl,” he murmurs, cold voice still booming near your lobe. you’re so wet, unapologetically damping his lap with your slick as your hips buck forward. yet, toji wasn’t exactly done. with two thickset hands, he lifts you up before lightly shoving you on the bed, having you lie flat on your bare chest. “nah, don’t get up. stay there,” and his words sent a plethora of butterflies straight toward your pussy. toji takes a moment to stare at your drooling cunt from the back, stopping himself from getting a taste right then and there before he smears his tip against your opening, preparing to go in raw. “shit,” he groans, the left side of your face sinking into the cushioned mattress. as your whines ring and reverb through the thin walls, he lifts your ass right up against him. “arch for me, girl. daddy’s ‘bout ‘ta make ya a mommy, heh.”

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

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the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

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when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

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the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hurt/no comfort: shy!Reader slips a note in Eddie’s locker asking him on a date, but when he reads it, he just laughs and tosses it in the trash.

My brain needed to slip a soft landing in there in someway. So, there is no comfort for reader-in-the-fic, but there’s a little bit kinda sorta for person who is reading the fic. There’s a small gap if you wanna stop at the absolutely no comfort though! Did this make sense? Hope so.

Words: 1.2k

Today was the day. There had been a few times over the past couple of weeks where you’d told yourself that, too, but this was really it. 

The note is clutched in your hand as you turn the corner to the correct hallway. One more deep breath and you force your foot to take one step forward. 

Anxiety begins to creep up inside of you, threatening to seize your lungs and close your throat. To keep it at bay, you recite what the piece of paper in your grip says, over and over again.

Hi Eddie, 

I would’ve asked you in person if I weren’t so shy, but here we are. I was wondering if maybe you would want to go see that new movie The Breakfast Club with me on Friday night? I know that might not be your thing, so I’m down for whatever you might want to do! Just let me know, okay? Maybe in our last period bio. Whenever Old O’Donnell stops droning on. I’ll see you then, I guess!

“Then with a little heart drawn next to my name,” you mumble to yourself.

Your sneakers squeal against the white linoleum tile beneath you as you come to a stop at Eddie’s locker. The silver plate engraved with “527” stares back at you from where it’s soldered to the metal. 

With one last deep breath, you fold the letter up as tiny and as flat as you can before you slip it through the slats on the front of the locker door.

Quickly, you turn away from the locker. You keep your head down as you briskly walk towards the corner you came from.

Why are you running away like you’re leaving a crime scene? You ask yourself as you listen to the fast squeak of your shoes on the floor. Afraid someone is going to tell Eddie they saw you put something in his locker? Your name is already on the note, genius! 

With a soft groan, you come to a stop and lean against the cool white brick wall just on the other side of the corner. You press your back flush up against the wall and let the chill help calm your body down. 

Nothing you can do now, you tell yourself as you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. The note is already in there. Now it’s a waiting game. It’s in Eddie’s hands. 

Speak of the devil…

Boots thud against the floor as Eddie heads your way down the hall. His Hellfire shirt looks wrinkled, like he slept in it, but he sports his signature layers of leather jacket and denim vest over it anyway. 

You adjust your position against the wall, trying to look more casual than conniption-y. He notices your movement out of the corner of his eye and gives you a small, quick smile that does nothing to help your raging heartbeat calm down. 

You flash him a brief smile in return before heading the opposite way, farther away from him and his locker—or so you want him to think.

As soon as Eddie turns the corner to his locker, you spin around and make your way back to where you just were: in the perfect position to peek around the wall and spy from a distance. 

Slowly, you stick your head out so you’re able to see around the corner. Eddie is standing at his locker, entering the combination. It looks like he’s whistling, but you’re too far away to hear. 

The metal clanks as Eddie swings the locker door open, and you see the small white piece of paper that’s from you floating gently down to the floor. Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion as he crouches down to pick up the note. He slips the piece of paper between his lips to hold it as he shoves his backpack in the locker and pulls out a single yellow notebook. 

Once he’s finished and closed the metal door, Eddie tucks his notebook beneath his armpit and removes the paper from his mouth. He unfolds the paper, and your heart feels like it’s unraveling with every motion to open the note. 

You watch as his eyes scan your scrawl written in blank ink. Everyone else in the bustling hall disappears. There’s no one but you and Eddie. And the note.

It feels as if it takes Eddie an eternity to read the few lines. Your lungs burn, reminding you to breathe as you await some sort of reaction. 

Then, a corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up and your spirit is floating with hope. But the smile turns into a snicker, which turns into a chortle. With the cackling sound, your hope drops down below the hideous linoleum tiles that cover every inch of these halls. 

Eddie crumples the note in his hand, and he might as well have done it to your heart. Nausea churns through you, coming on so fast that it’s dizzying. Your hands brace you against the wall, so you don’t fall—even if your legs give out, like they’re threatening to. 

Eddie turns so his back is to you and he walks farther away. Parked in front of a window is a janitor’s trash can, which Eddie unceremoniously drops your letter into. 

Black spots fill your vision, and you find yourself needing to take giant gulps of air. You are not okay. Escape. That’s what you need. 

Sneakers protest their meeting with the linoleum floor once more as you push yourself off the wall and stumble towards the school exit. All the nerves that were previously fluttering around your body before have now turned to shards of glass, scraping and cutting you from the inside with every step you take. The people who had all disappeared when you were so focused on Eddie have now come back with a vengeance, appearing to multiply by the minute as you attempt to squeeze past them all. 

The school doors are just at the end of the hall, but your spotty and blurry vision gives you a funhouse effect, making the distance to the door seem longer and more difficult than it is. Finally, your hands land on the silver bar and the biting chill of it brings you back to reality. 

Hot tears are streaming down your face and hiccups force their way up your throat every few seconds. Snot is rapidly filling your nose and all you know is that you need to get out of here now.

You push the silver bar and the door opens, leading you into the bitter February morning that was awaiting you. Unfortunately, the first thing you’d done once you got to school was stash your jacket away in your own locker, but you’ll be damned if you step foot back inside that school today. Instead, you grit your teeth and rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt at warmth. 

A few yards away, your car sits, beckoning to you. Knowing you’ll finally be able to have the breakdown you so want to in there, you jog in the direction of your parking space, praying the tears flowing down your face don’t freeze against your skin. 

Eddie lets the crumpled ball of paper roll off his fingertips and land in the trash can. He can’t believe it. He’s still laughing as he shoves open the door to his homeroom.

“Nice try, Jason,” he murmurs to himself as he finds his seat. “But I’m not falling for that one. Better luck next time.”

[nvirskies]

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her. 

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

[moonstruckme]

if you're okay with smut requests at the moment, giggly sex with james? like they're both just so happy to be with each other that they can barely kiss between their moans AND laughter

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut, mdni

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

James is upon you the second you get through the door, and between the two of you, you’ve got most of your clothes off not a minute after. 

“Missed you,” he professes, words all smushed up against your mouth as you knock into his glasses with the bridge of your nose. “M’never letting you leave again.” 

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do, tie me to the bed?” You feel a bit like being a tease, but then his hands grip your ass, heaving you up against him, and any thoughts of restraint fall away as a moan escapes you. “Wow,” you say at the hard bulge that’s now slotted conveniently between your legs. “You did miss me.”

James snickers and walks you towards the bed, kissing you harder when you grind against him, desperate for the remaining layer of your underwear to be out of your way. “You’re full of bad jokes today.” His lips are curved against yours as he sets you on the mattress, your legs spreading for him automatically. You lean back, and he bends to follow you. “Why don’t you leave comedy for the comedians, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” you laugh, arching up into his kiss. A big hand snakes in between your back and the bed, and a second later the clasp of your bra comes undone. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” You’d say you’d almost forgotten how skilled your boyfriend is at undressing you, but you haven’t. 

“Lots of practice.” James waggles his thick, deceptively deft, fingers in front of your face before sliding them down to their preferred spot at your waistline. Your preferred spot too. You sigh blissfully as his big palm drags up and down your side, thumb just barely skimming the skin beneath your breast. “Plus motivation.” He grins, dotting a kiss on the corner of your lips. “I’ve been waiting for this all week.” 

“You’ve been waiting all week for this?” Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he moves his hips on top of yours, your giggle tinged with delirium. “No ‘how was home, babe?’ ‘how’s your family doing?’” Your goading is interrupted by a small whimper as James’ hand slips beneath the band of your underwear, palming your already slick cunt. “My mom’s doing well, thanks for asking.” 

He slides the moisture up to your clit, tracing tiny circles around the bead that have you fisting your hands in the covers and taking tiny, gasping breaths. “I’d rather not talk about your mum right this moment, if that’s alright with you.” 

Laughter erupts from you, catching in James’ chest too until you’re both dizzy with it. “Guess you’re right,” you admit, letting go of the sheets to tangle both hands in his hair. You pull him closer. “I missed you too,” you tell him between kisses, your teeth clacking together. He tastes all that much sweeter for it. “Missed you so much, Jamie. For more than just this, if that wasn’t clear.” 

“I know.” He nips lovingly at your jaw, stinging with his teeth before soothing with his tongue. “Whatever crimes you try to pin on me, I missed you for more too,” he says, and then his deliciously thick fingers slip inside you. “You did miss me for this too, though, didn’t you angel?” 

“Fuck.” You bite his lip as he works those blessed fingers into you, middle and marriage testing the waters before beginning to scissor gently. James laughs at your reaction, and you both flinch back when his teeth clank against yours. 

“Sorry,” he says, shoulders shaking as he cups the back of your head. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

“Fucking just—ahh—just chip my tooth while you’re at it.” You’re bordering on nonsensical and part of you knows it, your stomach nearly cramping as you laugh through the building pressure in your core. 

James curls his fingers inside you, and if you had enough working brain cells left, you’d wonder how he does it through the giggle fit that’s seized him. “Hey, you started it.” There’s not a lick of malice in his tone as he presses sloppy kisses to your cheek, still laughing. “Nearly bit my lip off.”

“I knew—you could take it,” you pant.  

“Oh yeah?” James’ fingers slip out of you, and you look down as he works your underwear down your legs. They’re sopping wet. “Wanna talk about what you can take, angel?”

“Now who’s the one with the bad jokes,” you mutter, and his laughter is booming even as he slips his hands under your ass, angling himself into you. 

He pushes inside you and bends over you instantly, pecking insistently at your lips. “You,” he snarls playfully, emphatic (and, you think, happy beyond belief if his hard dick and giant smile are decent enough indicators). “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

“I think—” you gasp as he shifts inside you. “You know what? Shut up.” 

James’ guffaw is ecstatic, but he actually complies, kissing you from chin to temple as he pushes slowly in and out of you. You laugh giddily as you mouth underneath his jaw in return, your hands sliding over the broad expanse of his shoulders while his work diligently at your breasts in that incredible way he knows how. 

Your giggling subsides until you’re just breathing together, your kisses turning more languid, and you’ve almost gotten your shit together, almost found your rhythm, when James’ thumb brushes over your nipple and a breathy fuck slips past your lips. 

“Well, I’m trying to, if you’d stop interrupting.” 

And you both crack up all over again. 

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞 𝐀 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your professors just want to help you learn and gain knowledge. Your first lesson happened to be very educational...

『Word count』 : 2.3k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. 

Pairing: Professor!Yunho/Mingi x Student!Reader

[Warnings] : Age gape (reader is in her 20s while Yunho and Mingi are in their late 30s). Swearing. Dry humping. Oral. Deep throating. Pet names. Semi-public sex. Fingering. Dirty talk. Slight power play. Heavy cum play, saliva and fluids cause I lost control. IM SORRY. Filming, mention of taking photos. Reader is curvy and beautiful. Unprotected sex. Piv. Yunho and Mingi are huge!! Beefy men! Hehe. Some mxm and hints of prior seggy times with one another. Whoops what can I say I’m a yungi supporter. Also these two like to use terms that could consider the reader to be a “toy” of sorts. Which she is not and the boys do like her more than that I just got carried away like I normally do when I write things at 2 in the fucking morning. Oops.

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One

You gasped loudly, Yunho’s large hands slamming you onto the desk. Mingi had lifted you up off your chair, ripping your panties down while pulling up your skirt. It all happened so fast. Legs spread, Yunho's hot clothed crotch humping against your aching core. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, vaguely hearing both men whisper and chuckle. You felt so exposed under their gaze even though you were mostly clothed. Mingi’s deep chuckle caught your attention, making you shiver. “Look at that. She’s leaking down her thighs.” Mingi squatted down beside you, snaking his hand along your plump flesh. Picking up some of your juices that had spilled down towards your ankle. You had practically come just from them throwing you around like a rag doll. Yunho’s hips snapped against you, letting you feel his growing erection. He let out a groan, feeling your slick seep onto him.

“Fuck I might just nut humping this desperate cunt.” Yunho gulped, his hands digging deep into the skin on your hips, creating crescent shapes from his nails. Your ears were ringing, as you felt so overwhelmed and they hadn't even touched you where you needed them yet.

“Min..Yuyu..” You gasped, suddenly hearing a loud clank of a belt buckle. A hand gripped your chin, letting your wide eyes see Mingi’s cock leaking pre-cum on his exposed tummy while he held the hem of his shirt up.

“Be a good baby and open up.” he let go of your chin, moving to pump his dick, tapping his red tip against your sealed lips. You opened up obeying every word both men gave. Flattening your tongue, you let Mingi's large girth slide into your wet, warm mouth. “Fuck that’s it, baby. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your jaw went slack, stinging slightly as you tried not to gag. Mingi’s moans quickly filled the room, and he knew if they continued, they would only get louder. So he bit down on the fabric of his shirt he had been tightly gripped in his hand. You could feel him in your throat as he kept his thrusts slow and steady.

“Fuck look. She's getting excited just from sucking your cock Min.” Yunho had knelt down, coming face to face with your cunt. His mouth watered, studying the way you clenched around nothing every time Mingi thrusted into you. “Okay Tiny, for your first official lesson, let's see how quickly you squirt on my face.”

You whimpered around Mingi’s cock feeling Yunho’s tongue lap a long, slow strip of your cum, sucking on your lower lips before pulling away with a pop. His mouth was hot and abusive, his fingers slipping in next to his tongue. They were pumping at a pace that was making your lower tummy burn. Your jaw was slack, tempting to lock or close tightly around Mingi. He seemed to notice picking up his pace in order to release deep down your throat. “Fuck Sugar I think I’m gonna bust down this pretty throat of yours. Is that okay? I want to empty myself in your mouth.”

You whimper around Mingi’s cock from his filthy words. Your fingers squeezing his thighs, a silent way for you to say ‘yes, please, do as you please’. and so he obeyed, snapping his hips against you, spilling ropes of cum down your throat. You tried to swallow it all but it was like his seed was endless, and when he finally stopped and slid out of you, his fingers gazed over your chin seeing you trying your best to gulp down the rest of the white cream. “Awe, was it too much sugar?”

Your eyes were watering as you were now contemplating just spitting it out. But you were in a classroom, and you wanted to not make too much of a mess. Mingi sensed your panic, kneeling down besides the desk you were still leaning against. He brought your face to his, clicking his tongue. “well come here, Sugar. Let me help.” His dark smirk made your head spin. “Sharing is caring.”

His lips latched onto yours, letting his tongue slip into your half-full mouth. His seed spilled into his mouth, letting himself taste the saltiness of his come. He swallows quickly, making you cry out against his hot, wet muscle. Meanwhile, Yunho hadn't stopped his assault on your aching pussy pumping to fingers deep inside you tipping you over the edge. Your climax was unlike anything you’ve felt before in your life. Your eyes were rolled back and your whole body tensed. You were on fire. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.”

“Hmm.” Yunho chuckles against your cunt. “You got a potty mouth baby.” you had the temptation to bite back at him suddenly, knowing all they had been doing for the past twenty minutes was swear and spill out filth. But the gushing liquid flowing down your legs distracted you, moaning instead, feeling your knees buckle.

“Look at that.” Mingi had stepped back to stand behind you, taking in the view of your slumped against. Laying on top of the deck, your legs almost practically dangling limp and white cream mixing with clear liquid pouring down onto the floor below you. Yunho had stood up also, standing with his hands on his hips, looking smug of himself. “Maybe we should take a picture. Document the first time we got our girl off, huh?”

Mingi and Yunho were mumbling to one another as if you were just lying on a school table fucked out of your mind in front of them. Suddenly you hear a click of a camera and your mind, as if a miracle, unfogs. Using your shaking arms you prop yourself on your elbows, wiggling your ass slightly while trying to look over your shoulder. “Fuck stay still princess.”

You tried to obey, noticing Yunho’s flash on his phone. You’ve never been in such a dirty position, let alone filmed. You wanted to come just at the sheer thought these two very beefy men were so obsessed with what you looked like they needed to take photos for safekeeping. It made you have a sense of powerlessness. Strangely. “Mingi, Yunho. Someone please…touch me.”

You couldn’t explain where this newfound confidence came from, but your words made both males instantly by you. Yunho helped you up, leaning your chest against his while Mingi stood behind you, giving feathering kisses along your neck and covered shoulder blade. “We are here tiny. You want us to touch you. Fuck you right here in this classroom.”

“Yes please,” you answered so sweetly, Yunho swore he could have melted then and there. Mingi already had his slacks down, quickly following with his boxers. He grasps your hips, lifting your shirt up slightly so he can get a good view of your ass. His large hand almost covered your entire plump cheek, loving the way your body curves roll and fold beautifully. Like fresh bread dough, ready for Mingi to squeeze.

“Fuck, you gonna have to take us raw.” Mingi motioned, realizing he didn’t have condoms with him and He knew Yunho was definitely not carrying. “You okay with that Sugar?”

“Yes, please, sir.” The plea fell from your tongue before you could register what you had said. The pet name sent Mingi’s cock twitching. His fingers dug more into your hips, threatening to draw blood from the sheer tightness of his grip. His tip slid along your folds, picking up some of your slick, Yunho’s eyes were glued to where his best friend was almost connected to you. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.

“Fuck Baby, what did I say about calling us sir or Mr…” Yunho’s voice was deep, deeper than normal. With a grumble hidden beneath. You whimper out a simple ‘sorry’ feeling a weird form of guilt, feeling bad for making your boys upset… your boys. That’s it. That’s what your mind thought of them as. But that’s if they’ll have you more than just today. Your eyes opened, looking straight at Yun. Your brow was scrunched as you reached for him. He stepped closer, his left hand gripping the back of your neck so you were at eye level with him. “If you keep calling us sir. I can’t promise what I might do to you.”

“S...Sir. Please.” You gasp, suddenly feeling Mingi sink deep inside your cunt. Yunho growls, pulling his cock out of his slacks, pushing you down so you were bent on an angle, your ass flushed against Mingi's pelvis and Yunho’s angry tip pressed firmly to your mouth. Pre-cum smeared on your tongue as you lapped along his shaft before he pushed inside your warm mouth.

"Fuck you feel amazing doll." Yunho threw his head back in a groan. His fingers laced in your messy hair, tightly guiding you along his cock. Mingi, on the other hand, had his nails dug into your plump flesh, thrusting at a speed that left no room for oxygen. He didn't let you get used to his size, but the burn made your tummy rumble. He stretched you out perfectly, making your eyes roll back and saliva pool in your mouth, which Inevitably spilled out down Yunho's cock, coating his balls.

"Shit, Sugar. Why didn't we do this sooner? Your pussy is so fucking tight. And warm. Feels like heaven." Mingi's rambles cause you to clench around him, making his hips stutter a bit. Yunho’s cock still deep down your throat you mumble around him, making the vibrations cause Yunho to still himself, fearing he might come then and there.

“Come one, baby, why don’t you come for Mingi, hey? So we empty out loads in you.” You knew deep down Yunho’s desperate words were cause he was close, and given his thrusts were shallow and no longer timed. You were aware he didn’t have along. So you just moaned in response, wiggling your hips against Mingi in a way to tell him to hurry up. Mingi’s dark chuckle went straight to your core, making your high draw closer. You no longer felt the shyness from before but a newfound feeling brewing in your gut. One that made you well away that these two very large men were wrapped around your little finger. You let one hand go from Yunho’s thigh, bringing it down so you could rub your clit harshly, quickly finding a rhythm towards your release.

“Fuck I’m coming.” Mingi crossed his hands, placing them on opposite hip dips, slamming his cock just right into your soaked cunt, emptying his seed deep inside you. This made you cum, clenching tightly around him, milking him of his cum. Yunho on the other hand, with his eyes watching intensely at how his cock disappeared then reappeared from your mouth, he grabbed your hair into a messy ponytail, stilling his thrusts to come inside your slacked mouth. You tried you best to swallow but like Mingi, it was like his white creamy liquid was endless. So when he pulled out of you, he was quick to pull you up by your hair, smashing his lips against your own. His tongue slipped inside, taking his cum into his own mouth and swallowing. You have never known a man to taste himself let alone swallow his own load. God, it made you hornier than those female students fawning over these two super solider like men in front of you now.

“Come on, Yuyu. Come take a spin.” You could hear Mingi’s deep voice chuckling behind you. You pulled away from Yunho seeing Mingi swiftly move to stand beside the larger man. He grabbed Yun’s cock, tugging it a bit with a smirk plastered on his face. “You still have one more, why don’t you empty it into our sweet girl here.”

Mingi’s lips grazed Yunho's sweaty neck, licking along the other male's jugular before giving it a little bite. These two have definitely played this game before with one another. But whether or not it has been with another person involved is a different story. But you shook off any negative thoughts when you reminded yourself about what Mingi had called you. Our girl. God, these men will be the death of you. Yunho didn’t have time to say anything as you quickly stood up, grabbing his shoulders tightly, much to your poor imbalance. His hands, without hesitation, gripped your hips, holding you close against his broad chest. You leaned in and kissed him quickly, desperately, but there was a hint of something more. A stillness, caringness behind his kiss, something that was screaming, more, more, more.

Yunho’s left hand fell from your hip, snaking to grab a handful of your ass cheek, giving it a rough squeeze. His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, his sharp inhale through his nose.

His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, followed by a sharp inhale through his nose. Without breaking the kiss, he walked with you tightly in his grasp before the back of your legs hit the desk softly. You understood instantly what he wanted, removing your hands from his shoulders and then placing them down onto the oak table. You push yourself up with the little strength you have left, letting him shimmy between your spread thighs. he finally pulled away from your lips, so he could look down to where his cock was resting on your soaked tummy, “such a pretty baby. So ready for whatever we want. Are you are good girl darling? Going to be my good girl?”

“Yes, Yuyu. I want to be your good girl. For both of you.” You felt tears welt against the crease of your eyelids. Your nails dig into the wood beneath you. He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride from just how easily you submit to him and Mingi. How willing you are. He wonders what else they could get up to if they were in more of a private setting…

“That’s it, baby. Now, take a deep breath.” Yunho knew he was much bigger than Mingi and even though he had prepped you and Mingi as fucked you senseless only a moment prior. He was still going to be a lot to take in. Girth and length. So you obeyed perfectly, taking in a deep, slow breath as you felt him slip inside you, inch by inch. Your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape, following with a silent scream and brows scrunched. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever felt before. You tilted your head back, letting Yunho dive straight for your jugular, sucking a harsh purple mark on your neck, that would be very visible later. You were going to have to hide that tomorrow, but for now, you basked in the feeling of his teeth, tongue, or lips, as he thrusted at a slow but intense pace. Your body felt like it was on fire like you were a fuse box crackling electricity through water. 

Everything was so sensitive.

And you needed more. Reaching up you grabbed Yunho's collar of his messy shirt, bringing his body close. His face nuzzled into your neck, snapping his hips at a pounding pace that quickly made you see stars. You were so close, just needed a little push, and then your eyes wander to a very desperate-looking Mingi with his fully hard cock again once again, pumping it like his life depended on it. His eyes were focused on the way Yunho's hips jackhammered into you, following the same rhythm with his fist. And that sight alone helps you climax, clenching tightly around Yunho’s cock, milking the older man for everything he had. 

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He mumbled against your neck, biting down hard onto your shoulder as he emptied his seed deep inside your womb. Everything suddenly went still, quiet. Even Mingi had stopped, coming all over his hand from the entertainment had was gifting before him. Yunho's breath was pooling against your shoulder, while your nose nuzzled into his neck feeling his rapid pulse. There was nothing awkward about what had happened. But comfortable. Like you three were always meant to do this. Like all these games of cat and mouse were supposed to end up with you in their arms.

“So uh, another round back at ours?” Mingi’s question just caused you and Yunho both to laugh.

-

Special Tags : @acetruepunk @i-love-ateez @hwa-sangsbbygrl @therealcuppicake @smileydk @kpop-mixes

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[macabrebatz]

O, Christmas Tree

(Art the Clown/Reader)

GIF by junkfoodcinemas

Author’s Note: Me? Writing?? In 2024? Who would’ve ever guessed?

Notes/warnings: Fluff, reader has anxiety about living with Art, set in early December, Christmas fluff but it’s not Christmas yet, canon typical violence is briefly mentioned, gender neutral reader, are they roommates or lovers? that’s up to you

Word count: 1,121

Art had always been a strange individual. But for the past week, his behavior had shifted. He stayed in his workshop and had been adamant about keeping you out. It was a normal occurrence for Art to disappear for hours at a time but locking himself away from you was new. And it was concerning.

It was already a miracle that Art hadn’t killed you the second he met you. It was even more of a miracle that you’ve managed to stay alive and at his side for months now. You were thankful that he seemed to take a fascination towards you but this new behavior made you think that your luck might just be running out.

You made your way out of your home and walked towards the workshop. At one point it was merely a detached garage that you used as a glorified storage unit. But when Art came along you figured you’d let him have the building to work in. You weren’t using it anyway. Now it was his space for making all types of nasty weapons.

“Art?” you called out, knocking on the door of his workshop.

You could hear shuffling in the workshop and then silence. You knocked again, quieter than before.

“I just wanted to check on you,” you said.

There was no response, no shuffling. Nothing.

You sighed, turning away from the door. As you began to walk away there was a tiny creak. You turned to see Art sanding at the door, arms crossed with a blank expression on his painted face.

“Art, are you okay? I feel like these past few weeks you’ve been kind of dis-“

You were abruptly stopped. Art’s finger pressed against your lips as he silently shushed you. His blank expression turned into a smiling grin.

You attempted to speak again, but he pressed his finger a bit harder into your lips.

You took the hint, nodding your head. He took his finger away and then took your hand, leading you back into your living room. He gently pushed you down to the couch and gestured for you to close your eyes, putting his hands up to his own face to demonstrate.

You were hesitant. You weren’t too keen on being surprised by Art, because many of his surprises included the missing limbs of people he had killed. Or purposely scaring you. Although you found yourself caring for the clown, living with him in any capacity often came with daily hazards and the occasional heart palpations.

“Ok,” you said, quietly.

You shut your eyes and felt Art grab your hands and bring them up to your face. Whatever he had in store, he really didn’t want you to see it yet.

You heard him walk away and then you were left with silence. Minutes passed and you were beginning to get worried. You were becoming increasingly anxious and nervous, afraid that this was going to be one of those elaborate moments that he suckers you in just to make you jump out of your skin for his amusement. Or even worse…

No, you didn’t want to think about that. Surely if the clown had intended on killing you he would’ve already done it. Yes, surely that was the case.

Your train of thought was interrupted when you heard the sound of something dragging across the hardwood floor of your home. Your mind went to dark places, assuming the worst.

Art was moving around, you could hear him doing something although you had no clue what.

More time passed and you were starting to get stir crazy. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t something that was easily prepared. It was taking so long that you had the urge to whine. The temptation to peek was growing stronger by the minute but you knew better than to look.

“Art, what’s going on?”

You could hear what sounded like metal clanking together and something being stacked. Honestly, you weren’t sure.

Your arms were becoming sore from being in the same position for so long. You could only hope that the wait was going to be worth it.

It had been easily thirty minutes into waiting and you heard the sound of Art walking closer to you. You jumped at the sudden feeling of his hands on yours. He was behind the couch you sat on, his chin rested gently on the top of your head. He slowly moved your hands away from your face. You hesitantly opened your eyes and gasped. One of your hands covered your mouth in disbelief.

In the corner of your living room sat a rather tall black Christmas tree. It was wrapped in sparkly white garland and red ornaments were littered across the branches. Soft white lights were stretching around it, twinkling and illuminating the area. All of that waiting was because Art had been decorating the tree. The sound of metal you heard must’ve been him putting the tree in its stand. And the stacking noises? That could probably be explained by the red and black Christmas presents stacked under the tree.

“Oh my gosh,“ you said, standing up from your spot on the couch.

You couldn’t help but want to take a closer look. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

“You got a Christmas tree? For me?” you asked.

You turned around and another gasp escaped your lips. Art was dressed head to toe in a Santa Claus costume, white hair and all. You had never seen him in anything else other than his clown suit. If he wasn’t in his black and white suit, he would just be naked.

“Art, I don’t know what to say. This is so…sweet,” you said as you walked over to him.

He waved his hand, pretending to make a bashful gesture. It was almost like he was saying, “Oh, this? It’s not that big of a deal.”

But it was to you. Sure, sometimes it felt like you had to walk on eggshells around him. That just came with the territory of being around a murderous clown. But no one had done anything this sweet for you in a very long time.

“Thank you, Art.”

You kissed his cheek and he smiled with a big, toothy grin.

“I like this, by the way,” you said, running your hand over the trim of his Santa jacket. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and you giggled.

“By the way, as much as I love this gesture…I sincerely hope there are not any body parts in any of those presents.”

He made another face, almost gleeful.

You could swear you could hear him in your thoughts saying, “You’ll just have to wait to find out.”

[i-starcreamed]

MIRAGE X READER

hii rotb has made me fall in love with...a lot more transformers now. This is just a silly idea I had, kinda lame but idc. Being cringe and free now. Anyways, planning to make this a small series maybe? Mirage lovers where are you?? Could eventually make this a mirage x reader x Noah, love them both, really. Or you know, Noah could be a third wheel, you guys decide that

[ human!gn reader summary: You have no idea how you got into this situation. First, you were trying to steal a true beauty of a car with your friend Noah to get some extra cash with Reek working behind the scenes (apparently) And now, you were in the Porche you guys were planning to steal. Mind you, it's currently driving itself.

"Holy shit!" You yelled in terror as the car careened wildly around the curve, sending both you and Noah lurching to the left side of the vehicle. You clung onto the door handle for dear life, your heart pounding in your chest as a combination of fear and adrenaline caused you to burst out into wild laughter. Noah, on the other hand, let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as he death-gripped onto the steering wheel with both hands. "STOP STOP STOP!"

The radio kept picking up a certain frequency, it was static-y but still clear enough to understand it kept reaching out towards something or someone named Mirage.

After crashing several police cars, running red lights, and being tossed around the car, the silver and blue Porche entered a warehouse of some sort and literally tossed you out onto the cement. Noah groaned as he rolled on his side. You on the other hand, didn't manage to fall onto the ground and gripped onto the seat. You thought it was over but noo, all of a sudden the car decides to transform, its component parts moving and shifting into new positions. You stare in awe and fear as the walls around you warp and bend ever so slightly; the seat beneath you shifts away from you before slowly, almost hesitantly dropping you onto the ground. You stare up and after a couple seconds, the car transformed into a fucking robot. Towering several feet in front of you and Noah, you both stare up in fear. You're a bit amazed honestly, you're staring at a giant metal dude stretch and prance around the warehouse, ranting about being cooped up this entire time.

You and Noah shared a look.

"But that was cool, you guys are cool. A bit loud, ehh, but cool." The robot stood in front of you now, his gaze focused on the both of you. You froze, Noah scrambled around to pick up a metal pipe. "Woah woah woah!" The robot held his hands up. You cursed under your breath and scrambled to get behind Noah, trying to look for anything you can use as a weapon as the robot focused on Noah. You found a couple loose bolts and nuts on the ground and scooped them up in your palm.

You approached Noah's side, menacingly brandishing the tiny screws in your hand. The robot quickly put his hands in the air. "What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me?"

You both looked at eachother. Noah shifted, adjusting his stance while still holding up the pipe. "Maybe?" The robot made a noise akin to a scoff and his left arm started transforming into something else, oh god oh fuck. Before you even had time to register it, you threw a bolt at him. It hit his arm and he froze. "Hey- what?"

You were launching bolts at him, your shots greeted with a "hey, hey, hey!" each time they clanked against his frame. You kept getting closer, pushing him back further and further, surprising yourself with your own nerve. That confidence instantly disappeared when he whipped out his arm-gun, the blue light from the barrel seemed to lock onto you and Noah, like two deer in headlights. "Can you- stop throwing those things at me?!"

"woah, woah, woah-" Noah quickly put his hands up and walked up to you, standing in front of you. "Let's all calm down, alright? Alright? We good?" "Noah, what the hell is this about?" You whisper yelled.

"I dont know! Just dont get us killed" he whisper yelled back.

You huffed defiantly, you quickly took the bat from Noah's hands and tightly gripped it. You adopted a battle-ready stance, staring down the giant robot - thing? - truly unyielding. Neither of you backed down until he put the gun down, straightening up. "Okay okay, you're brave. I like that."

Your face dropped, dumbfounded. Noah reached out and firmly snatched the bat from you, his face a mask of barely-contained irritation. "what did I fucking tell you about not trying to get us killed, dude?" He hissed.

What the hell was going on.

[changisworld]

“you know you want to”

Stepbrother!Jeongin x fem reader

Word count:4,288

Summary: You & your stepbrother Jeongin have never gotten along, always snitching on one another & purposely annoying each other. When your parents have gone to sleep & you are tiptoeing down the stairs to sneak out of the basement window to get to a college party that you're strict dad won't allow, what are you gonna do when Jeongin catches you?

18+ MDNI, smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: DUB CON, manipulation/blackmail, Oral (F rec),squirting, unprotected sex, pull out method, edging (F rec), fingering (F rec), finger sucking, Hair pulling, tiny bit of spit??, neck kisses, dirty talk

-> Alcohol is mentioned but not ever consumed.

-> your dad & Jeongins mom are both titled as your parents just to save confusion but you are only related to your father, you & Jeongin aren't blood related.

** Jeongin & reader have a pre established relationship, 80% of this is just smut but depending on how well this does, I'll make a multiple part mini series in a LOOOTT more detail :3**

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You've just hung up facetime with your friend, Jennie after even further planning on what you're wearing to the party at her boyfriends house later tonight. You've got clothes thrown all over your floor from digging & taking all items worth wearing out of their places before showing them to the camera, getting her opinion on each piece & even having her call dibs on wearing a certain something.

You sigh before you swing open your bedroom door to go downstairs to go make yourself something to eat before you begin to get ready, but you're not happy with the sight in front of you, that being your step brother, Jeongin, giving you his cheeky smile, hair drooping down his forehead.

"What the fuck are you doing standing in my doorway, weirdo, move." you groan, pushing his shoulder but not with much strength behind it, letting him chuckle.

"Where ya going? Does your dad n my mom know, hmm?" he teases, following right beside you as you begin walking down the stairs, looking at the side of your face as you scoff.

"Are you eavesdropping on my conversations? Fuck off Jeongin, I'm not going anywhere, I need to study, so do you for that fact so leave me alone n go get busy." You walk into the kitchen, the guy skipping & humming as he follows you, leaning on the counter top as he watches you pour some cereal into a bowl but before you're able to get to the fridge, he stands in front of it.

" 'studying' my ass y/n, & I have been studying so shut up. You're a really bad liar, you know that right?" he smirks as he turns around to open the fridge & give you the milk.. well, lack thereof. "I drank some earlier n haven't told mom to get more, whoopsies." He walks out of the kitchen happy as a rainbow as you groan & throw the empty milk carton on the floor, yelling at Jeongin as you hear him running up the stairs.

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You have your music playing quietly so your parents don't awaken as you're doing your makeup, humming along to the song as you finish applying a pretty blue/silverish shimmer shade across the inner part of your eyelids, making them stand out. You finish doing your hair & go through the few outfit options you managed to choose between the other thirty at the beginning of the day & you end up holding each of them up to your chest to get a better idea now that you are mostly ready & your mind settles on a blue denim miniskirt along with a black strappy gemstone top.

You put it on & take a few pictures that you'll probably post later before packing your 'escape bag'. You put some sweat pants over your skirt & a hoodie over your top before putting your black clutch & your alcohol wrapped in a shirt to stop the clanking noise in a backpack before you pick up your shoes, turning off your bedroom lights & extremely slowly closing your bedroom door, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

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You hold your breath as you begin tiptoeing down the long hallway, not being able to lightly sigh as you get past your parents silent bedroom, hearing your dad snoring inside, knowing the first part of the difficulty is over with.

You can hear Jeongins TV's low volume further down the hall & you feel a pit in your stomach growing, knowing he is still awake. You pause your steps for a minute, hearing no further movements or rustling coming from behind his door, so you progress.

You get past his door & you can't help but feel a cold sweat on the back of your neck, 'no matter how much I do this shit it never gets easier' you think to yourself. You get to the bottom of the stairs eventually & walk past all other rooms until you get to the door that leads to the basement.

You open the small cabinet next to the door & get the key before putting it in the door & turning it. You turn the door knob but it's now locked.. & your parents never leave it unlocked. Your stomach butterflies return as you use the key again, the door now being able to open.

You don't have much time to think about it however, as your light brown haired stepbrother appears from the basement. "Told you you are bad at lying, what you doing so late?" he whispers, letting out an overdramatic sigh as he grabs your wrist to snatch the key out of your hand, ushering you away from the doorframe as he slowly closes the door, not looking away from you.

"Jeongin, cmon. Just move." you whisper back, attitude in you voice as he somehow leads you into the living room, you still walking backwards. "N why would I, you lied to me, broke my huge heart." he remarks as he leans over your shoulder to try take your bag off your shoulder. You go back & forth, pulling & tugging on it before he overpowers you & now has the backpack in his hands. You are quick to try snatch it back but he pushes you onto the soft sofa behind you. "Ah,ah, ahhh, don't be stupid y/n, might wake 'em up. Why you got shoes in your hands n not wearing them, you really are odd at times."

You give up & throw the shoes onto the carpeted flooring, knowing you're probably not going anywhere tonight. He pulls out everything in your bag, holding it up to the window, letting the moonlight shine onto your alcohol in order to read it, just to tease you further since he knew what would be in your bag before even getting his hands on it.

He pulls out your clutch bag & an eyebrow raises before looking back at you again, your arms crossed as you frown up at him, the reflection of the moon showing his defined cheekbones that little bit extra. "You have this bag, inside a bag, while looking as if you've just got out of prison.. wha'cha underneath?" He questions, stepping towards you before sitting next to you.

You scoff at his words but he doesn't look away from you, noticing you have perfume on too. You both sit in silence for a second but before you have time to react, Jeongin is grabbing at your hoodie & somehow gets it over your head, the top you are wearing underneath now on show. He scoffs as he looks at you & you push him. "You're genuinely psychotic Jeongin, you caught me for fuck sake, do you really need to go this far? I'm not gonna go anywhere anymore, just give over." you whisper yell at him, irritation in your voice.

He looks into your eyes, his dimples appearing on his cheeks as he quietly chuckles. "I didn't say you couldn't go y/n." he says nonchalantly as he leans fully into the couch, turning his head to look at you. "So.. you're not gonna snitch if I go? bull.shit." you remark but your tone still raises, sounding more hopeful than you were a few minutes ago.

"Well I mean, If I got something in return, I wouldn't" he replies, sitting up again to match your posture, leaning forward a bit, which you notice, but choose to not say anything. "Seriously? What is it you're after? Money? I'll deep clean your car for you? I'll write that stupid essay you keep putting off for you? I'll give you Jennie's number?" you ramble, still making sure to keep your tone down but Jeognin 'shooshes' you anyway. "You're so loud, learn to whisper." He jokes before he shuffles over so his right leg is touching your left one now as he leans in to your ear.

"Like this, & what if I know what I want, but it's not anything you mentioned?" his breath tickles your neck as he whispers which makes you twitch subconsciously. "Just tell me Jeongin, I have places to be, do you wanna come with or something? Is that what this is? Coulda just said you have no friends to invite you out." you whisper back, getting fed up. Jeongin lets out a sigh into your ear before moving away, as you both make eye contact again, Jeongin puts his hand on the back of your head & lean you both in & he kisses you.

Your eyes shoot as wide as plates as his lips move against yours despite yours not doing the same way. You push him by the shoulders & wiggle your head free from the hand against the back of your teeth & you just stare at him, not saying much. Jeongin looks back at you, breathing a bit heavier due to the nerves. You both sit in silence for a minute, a million thoughts racing through your head but that is interrupted as Jeongin throws himself back at you, locking lips with you again.

You flop backwards on the couch as Jeongin puts more of his body weight on you, him holding himself up by putting his arm on the arm of the couch right above your head as he keeps his lips locked with yours & to his surprise & yours, you both realise your lips are moving along with his this time.

"Jeongin what the fuck, we can't be doing this this is just fucked up. Get off." you say in a more serious voice, your hands moving to cross over your chest, trying to create distance between you both despite you could just push him. "Stop acting so innocent y/n, you just kissed me back n besides we aren't blood related, we have only known each other for what, five years? Don't act as if you don't want this." he smirks as he speaks, pushing the bit of hair that is resting weirdly on your face back into its place.

"Jeongin, If you get off me now I won't tel-" You don't finish your sentence as he cuts you off by kissing you again, & you can't help but take a bit of pleasure in how soft his lips are, a light taste of his cherry lip balm transferring onto your own.

Jeongin starts to nibble on your bottom lip every few seconds as his tongue also starts to poke at where your own one is & he eventually worms his tongue inside your mouth, humming as he tastes it.

This continues for a minute or so before he breaks it off, spit coating both of your lips & your bottom lip a bit swollen & reddened from his teeth attacking it as he begins a trail of kisses down your jawline & landing on your neck, biting at it, making you hold back a whimper.

"Jeongin, plea-" "shhh y/n, just enjoy it, I'll make this wayyy better than going out, promise." he snaps back, interrupting you as he wiggles his way down further, kissing your collarbone & chest as he begins to shimmy your sweatpants down with his free hand & you have no idea why but you help him by raising your hips, letting them slide off your pretty legs.

He looks down after giving one last kiss to your collarbones after feeling a rough fabric that is no longer hidden by the joggers. "Ahh, you really did dress up hmm? Atleast the pretty outfit isn't gonna go to waste since someone's seen it now. Were you planning on fucking someone y/nnie?" he questions as his long fingers trace over your denim skirt, making you flinch & squirm.

"Jeongin what if someone catches us, you're being stupid." you respond, avoiding his question completely, your voice now soft despite your voice never being above a whisper at all. Jeongin rolls his eyes as he reaches down that little bit further & lands a quick flick to your covered core, making you jolt, eyebrows furrowing as you look back up at him. "Just be quiet n we will be fine, answer my question." he puts his hand up to your face & squishes your cheeks as he makes you look fully at him, both of you making eye contact as his other hand is now playing with the skin on the inside of your thigh, making your hips move on their own, seeking more. "No,Jeongin, I wasn't." he hums at your reply as he shuffles down so he is no face level with your lower stomach as he gives it a few kisses before undoing the button on your miniskirt before also removing hat item of clothing, Now being only left in your thong & black top despite Jeongin still wearing his grey sweatpants & white tank top.

"That's what I wanted to hear but for some reason, I don't believe it y/nnieee, nobody would dress like this & sneak out if you weren't after cock." Your cheeks are as red as cherries as he suddenly sits up on his knees long enough to take his shirt off to show his chiselled, defined, gorgeous abs which you have to try force yourself to look away to try save whatever self preservation you're trying to convince yourself you still have.

Jeongin resumes his place on your lower tummy as one hand is now playing with the hem of your sparkly top as his other hand begins to play with your covered cunt, which unsurprisingly has a small wet patch which is now transferring onto his fingers, despite you trying your hardest to not be turned on from the current situation. "Someone's enjoying this more than they're letting on, No need to be completely mute jagi, just remember who's upstairs." he says, more to himself than anything but you huff at his words anyway, embarrassment radiating through your body, partially from his words, & partially from how turned on you actually are.

He continues lightly dragging his long fingers along your folds, causing your panties to be dampened even more as his other hands fingers dig their way under your shirts fabric & grabs onto your nipple which makes you arch your back on instinct. He begins to lightly pull on your nipple, flicking it with his thumb as he continues kissing your lower stomach, his soft hair tickling it.

His kisses get lower & lower until his lips hit the hem of your panties & you don't put up a fight as he now discards that too. He moves his hand from your left nipple as he wraps his arms around your legs as he is now face level with your dripping core. "Be good n keep your legs open for me, mkay? Stay quiet f'me." He says in a low tone, voice sounding flushed out despite it being you being touched, not him. You have no words that even come to mind to create a response, you just sigh as you cross your arms over your eyes, trying to not focus on your step brothers breath hitting your naked heat.

Jeongin takes this as enough of an answer & licks a long, slow strip up your entire core, which in return makes you hiss at the contact. He wastes no time in digging into your cunt like a man starved as he uses two fingers to spread your folds as he begins slurping on it before switching & nibbling on your swollen button, making you bite down on your lip painfully to hold back as much noise as possible.

He snakes his arm up your frame until he taps two fingers against your lips & you immediately open your lips, letting his fingers now rest on your tongue as you begin sucking on them, using them to help swallow your moans. The room has slurping & hisses filling the room, a mix of your own juice & also his own spit dripping down past your cunt & his chin onto the couch below.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, much to your dismay as but that is short lived as he worms his now spit covered fingers into your pussy & begins scissoring them & he lets out a quiet groan as he has now gotten a feeling of your wet walls as you instantly clench down on his long fingers which you're convinced are grazing your cervix. He wriggles his fingers around slightly until he finds your G-spot before attacking it with them & you begin squirming around as much as you can with heavy breaths despite his arms still being wrapped around your legs, preventing you from moving freely.

He keeps suckling & slurping on your clit as he is finger fucking you & you begin clenching down a lot more than you were a minute ago. "Jeo- g'na cum- plea-" Your words die in your throat as he struggles but manages to pull himself completely away from your cunt, watching you with a smirk as your eyes are watery, stress & agitation on your face from feeling your orgasm drifting away from your lower stomach as your own juice drips down his chin, giving it a shine that you can make out now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark.

"You really think I'd let you cum on my fingers when I don't know how much you can take, hunny? You can cum on my dick this time, just till I see how well you can take me." He gives you a kiss on your thighs before now using this chance to take his sweatpants & also boxers, leaving him now completely nude as his words sink in & you can't help but think & hope this happens again..?

He helps flip you around before bending you over the arm of the couch, your pretty ass on show for him. He spreads your legs enough so he can fit between them before letting spit drip from his lips, landing directly on his cock as he pumps it in his hand. You turn your head to at least get a look of what exactly you are getting yourself into & you almost regret that choice because you genuinely have no idea how the fuck you're going to be able to handle it. His cock is longer than it is thick but it curves upwards which you now both know will be your G-spots best friend within the following minutes.

Jeongin realises your reaction & can't help but chuckle. "You scared you won't be able to take it y/n? where's that cocky, bitchy personality now disappeared to hmm?" he questions, cockiness in his voice as he begins running his leaky cock head along your folds, making him hold back a groan. "Just, ugh, just put it in Jeongin, Don't be a dick." you try to say with venom, but just ends up sounding needy, which Jeongin laughs at. "Say please & I'll happily give you it." he replies, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder, eyes looking at the side of your flushed out face.

You take a deep breath but don't budge & Jeongin isn't happy with that so he sits back up on his knees as he wraps his long hand into your hair before pulling your hair so now you're looking at him upside down, your back arching. "Say. Please." he repeats, voice sounding way more serious the second time around. Your eyes water from the burn on your scalp but you can't deny how needy you actually are & before you can think for a moment, you're throwing your ego out of the window. "Jeongin, p-please just put it in, want it., want your cock." you murmur, trying to be aware of where you both currently are.. completely naked. He is happy with this & lets go of your hair, making you flop forwards as he lines himself fully up with you, before finally sliding inside.

Your legs almost give out from just the pleasure of him filling you out alone but you somehow keep yourself up. You both let out a whine, his being louder since he hasn't got the edge of the couch to smother his face in to shut himself up. He oh so kindly lets you adjust for around thirty seconds, you both sitting in silence other than the heavy breaths & the sound of the living room clock ticking away in the backround.

"So tight, holy shit y/n. Gonna move now, alright.?" He asks but doesn't actually give you any time to respond before he is withdrawing his hips before returning to where they just were, then repeating it.

He picks up his pace, his hips connecting with your ass as his hands find their place on your hips, helping you now meet his thrusts. You are muffling your whines & squeals by biting down onto the fabric of the couch, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your gummy walls are being ruined by the fluffy haired man behind you.

You find the strength to lift your head up off the couch to mutter out a few incoherent words Jeongins fucked out brain can't completely understand, He keeps chasing his own release, throwing his head towards the ceiling & panting until he feels you clenching so tight he thinks his cock can turn purple.

"Gonna cum for m-me y/n? Squeezing me so tight, g-gonna kill me. You're s-so fucking wet." Your moans encourages him to pick up the pace even more than he already is, his great stamina being something he is thankful for in this moment. He admires the squelching noises coming from your cunt & he thinks he can honestly melt from pleasure. "Jeon-in f-fuck, t-too-so big." you whine, trying to keep as quiet as possible but can't help the noises you're letting out, his cock pushing your cervix into a completely new place inside you.

"Yeah? Taking it so well for m-me, so beau-hot." He cuts himself off, trying to not say such nice words, since that is the imaginary line he is trying to draw for himself, despite not wanting to.

Your legs begin to shake again & you try to warn Jeongin you're about to cum, but it's no use since you're so fucked out you're convinced your brain has completely melted. You feel it bubble up & then over as your orgasm sprays out of your pussy & lands onto your own thighs, Jeongins cock, trimmed pubes & also the couch beneath you.

Jeongin watches this & he tries to hold out until you at least start to come off your orgasm so it isn't completely ruined before he pulls out as his own orgasm is only a second away & pumps his cock at an extreme pace before his own orgasm shoots out of him, landing onto your ass & back, a few drops landing on the one item of clothing that somehow didn't come off.

Your legs have already given out & you are now just awkwardly arched on the edge of the sofa, trying to catch your breath back. Jeongin pants & pushes his now wet with sweat hair out of his pretty face before he stands up on his own shaky legs & puts his hands on your legs gently before pulling you, so you're now laying fully flat on your back.

You both don't exchange words but Jeongin takes it upon himself to grab his tank top to wipe his orgasm off of you, which you appreciate deep down. "I'll get you some water, I would say sit tight but you can't move anyways dick's too good huh." he teases as he is still panting, kissing leaning down to kiss your lower back. You just 'tut' at his words.

He returns with three glasses, you can see one has a dark liquid in it & you think the other two are water. "Why the third glass, the hell is that.?" you mumble, only now actually returning fully to earth. "Well you squirted all over the damn couch in case you didn't realise & it's one in the morning, I can't be fucked to clean that n I know you can't, just gonna pour cola on the spot since our parents drank vodka coke earlier, they'll probably just believe it." He pants out before chugging his own cup of water then remembering to give you your own drink. You let out a giggle as you force yourself to sit up enough so you can drink the water that you didn't realise how much you actually needed a drink until you take a sip then you suddenly have the driest mouth on earth.

He helps you gather your clothes (after letting you whisper yell at him for getting cum on your shirt) & he helps you tiptoe up stairs along with him. "We never speak of this again Jeongin, I swear to god." you whisper outside his bedroom door, his TV still playing from earlier. "mhmm, If you say so, sleep well." he snarkily replies before closing his own bedroom door, before taking his phone off his desk & going onto the message app.

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Jeongin: It actually worked lmaoo

Jennie: Told ya, u just needed to test her limits lol

Jeongin: ahaha, was worth the risk, thx jen

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Jeongin can't help but blush slightly as he shuts his phone off & just looks around his clean bedroom, realising what he did & how easy it was, which he is definitely keeping in mind.

[elitadream]

Guess Who's been rewatching cutscenes of Ratchet & Clank lately? 😁🔧

I was looking for a character to illustrate as a quick demonstration in response to a previous ask, and it just so happened that this franchise was one of the many I suddenly remembered I once had quite a fondness for; hence the little tribute.^^

So here's how I proceed for the shading process!

When it comes to monochromatic sketches, I have a special liking for warm and earthy tones, but any color can work really well depending on the atmosphere needed. When choosing one, I pick the background first as a general indicator, then follow it up with the contour lines. This helps me find the base for the character itself, which is always somewhere in-between. That way, the figure stands out reasonably while also having visible details even at this stage. :3

From there, I separate each darker and lighter zone by using the already existing tones that I have and creating blends. Same goes for the shadows, which I keep fairly subtle and only emphasize in some key areas for a softer effect. 🎨

Depending on the complexity of the piece (and especially when using a more diverse palette), I will often trace the final version first, but in the case of a simpler drawing like this one, I usually apply most of the shading on the rough sketch instead and make the remaining adjustments from there. When cleaning up the lines, I use pen pressure to obtain varying thickness and create a more dynamic result. Sometimes, I will also include a few tiny elements outside of the color range I'm working with as a fun bit of contrast and finishing touch. ✨

Aaand that's about it! Not much else to it. 🤗✏️

[kianely]

OFF THE DASHBOARD

i. FEATURING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

ii. SYNOPSIS — Relentless stacks of paperwork and arrests during patrols have Leon busy all the time. It doesn’t help that you’re out of town for some work business. Feeling deprived of your touch, he hastily calls you while in his car, needing to hear your voice.

iii. CONTENT WARNINGS — 18+ content (MDNI) Sub!Leon, masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, spit for lubrication, praise with tiny hints of condescending degradation (leon receiving) Focused mostly on Leon overall. Please check my DNI before interacting. Lowkey rushed, my bad LMAOO

Your boyfriend was a needy and pitiful mess. He stationed his car in an empty parking lot as soon as he got off his shift at the department. He had his lights turned off. He was ringing your phone, already having you on speaker in case you picked up. A bold move, but he never invested in a pair of earphones so it would have to do.

The slacks of his uniform were painfully tight, he needed you. Couldn’t get off on his own, he was fucking addicted to you. He used to be able to get off in just minutes by the simple thought of you. But he was getting greedy, you spoiled him rotten. He needed to feel you, or at least hear your voice coax him into an orgasm.

“C’mon,” he muttered out, running a hand through his messy hair out of desperation. His phone was beeping, the picture he had for your saved contact showing on his phone and illuminating his car a bit.

It was wishful thinking. It was midnight already, there’s no way you would–

“Hello?”

The greeting alone sent blood rushing to his cock, his mind was spinning at the sound of the voice he had been craving to hear the entire long and exhausting work day. His tongue ran across his lips, trying to make up for how dry his throat felt.

“Oh, thank god.” He let out an audible sigh of relief, one you could clearly hear over the phone. “I’m so sorry for calling so late and without any notice, it’s just…”

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He couldn’t just straight up tell you that he had been fantasizing about you jerking him off for hours on end, right? The thought of your hands taking his uniform off at a tantalizing pace before finally wrapping your hand around his cock—it sounded so good. Or even the manner in which you’d teasingly run your fingers across his abdomen before tracing over the lines of his v-line, he was always so weak under your touch.

“It’s okay, I was awake catching up on a show anyway. You’ve been so busy lately and I miss you like crazy, I’m glad you called.” Your voice came through and he wanted to melt into a puddle in his car seat.

“I miss you too, so much. Listen—I’m kind of in a predicament right now,” he eventually managed to say with a breathless tone of voice, placing his hand on the bulge straining against his slacks, rubbing the area lightly and letting out a soft whimper. He hoped you’d get the picture, without having to vulgarly explain himself.

A beat, you registered the sound of Leon’s voice. He was horny, you could tell just by the undertone of need that seeped from his words. Usually he was more subtle, not so blatantly whimpering during a call. That was kinda hot though, your usually composed boyfriend was in need of release.

“Baby. Are you hard right now?”

The term of endearment made Leon’s heart quicken, there was something about the way you said it that made heat blossom across his cheeks. “Guilty.”

You could be cruel sometimes, but not today. Not when you hadn’t touched Leon in nearly three weeks because of conflicting schedules.

“Take your belt off,” your voice was gentle but Leon knew you were instructing him. “And let me hear it, too. Wanna know you’re listening to me.”

There was something about you bossing him around that was so incredibly sexy, he momentarily set his phone down on one of his thighs so you could hear the clanking of metal as he fumbled to take off his belt and gear. It took him longer than usual, and the adrenaline pumping through him made him hear his own pulse in his ears.

“Okay,” fuck, his voice was quivering and his belt was discarded off onto the passenger seat. “What now?”

“Mm,” you thought about it for a moment, just to tease him. Eventually, you settled on a response. “Stroke yourself over your boxers, and tell me what that pretty mind of yours was thinking about all day.”

He was a good boy, unzipping his pants and slipping his right hand underneath—finding the shape of his cock and gliding his hand up and down. The fabric of his boxers was already wet with his precum, it was sticking almost uncomfortably to him. His free hand found purchase on the edge of his car seat, short nails digging into the leather of it.

“I, uh.” He was stammering, mind struggling to formulate a coherent thought. You did this on purpose, making him talk even when he was struggling.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Don’t tell me you went all dumb just by touching yourself for a single second.”

Those taunts, fuck, that condescending tone you took. The windows of his car were undoubtedly going to fog up with all the ragged breaths he was taking. “Was thinking about your hand on my cock, and that thing you do with your thumb—like…oh fuck, when you rub the tip with it.”

A babbling mess, that’s what he was. “T–Thought about you spitting on my cock, and the way you look at me while you do. Want you. Need you.”

“Atta boy,” your praise made him gasp—the words shooting straight down the gutter. “Keep going, you sound so fucking pretty.”

He was almost drooling with the way his jaw was slackened, his lips feeling dry with each intake of breath through his mouth. Only you were given the heavenly experience of hearing all his little sounds, the hiccup of his breath and broken sobs.

“Can I touch myself now, please?” His request was quiet, spoken in a bashful manner.

You laughed at his question, wanting to play with him a little. “What do you mean? You are touching yourself.”

“Yeah but…” he let out a whine, beginning to feel frustrated. So damn impatient, the call had only been running for a few minutes and he was already being pouty. “Like, without my boxers. That’s what I meant. Please? I don’t know how much longer I can go.”

“So dirty. Where are you right now, Leon?”

He wanted to growl at you, how could you be asking such an unnecessary question in the middle of this? Were you trying to torture him? You didn’t even answer his oh so nicely worded request.

“Does it matter?” There was a little bit of frustration in his voice. Could he take his boxers off or not? “Parking lot.”

“Ah, right. So you’re asking me if you can take your boxers off in a public parking lot and touch yourself, then? You’re a cop, aren’t you? Isn’t that public indecency?”

“Babe.” His voice was so whiny, fingers getting ready to reach under his boxers. “Please. Just let me, there’s no one around, promise.” He craved your permission, even if he didn’t necessarily need it to touch himself.

You were so going to give him shit over this the next time the two of you hung out in person. “So impatient, fine, go ahead.”

His boxers were hastily shoved further down as soon as he got the green light, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock. Tears brimmed at his eyes at the relief that flooded his senses, letting out a hiss as he stroked himself.

He imagined his hand was yours, mimicking the way you would touch him because he had it all memorized. “Oh god,” his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted back towards the headrest—hips bucking up into his own hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“That’s it, keep going.” Hearing your boyfriend in such a messy state was getting to you too, your own hand snaking down your figure to the place that ached. “Spit on it.”

“What?” The command made him lose focus, his mind spinning with each passing second, “oh, wait, okay. Fuck, that’s hot.”

It was an easy task for him, saliva having already gathered in his mouth from the way he had been too focused on all the pleasure to even swallow. He let his spit land on the tip, watching as it ran it’s way down to the base.

With a high-pitched moan, he kept on going—a little faster than before. He was losing it, his rhythm progressively getting more sloppy as his stomach got tighter and tighter.

He really should’ve turned his ignition on so he could have some AC in his damn car, his uniform was going to be damp with sweat after this. Whatever, he owned a washing machine.

He could hear your encouragement and dirty talk, but he was too out of it to really pay attention. It didn’t matter, all he needed to know was that you were on the other line of the call, that’s the only way he could come in this situation.

“Not gonna last much longer,” he rasped out, giving the base of his cock some firm squeezes—the same motion you did to him whenever you gave him a handjob.

“I know,” you truly did, you could tell by the way he hadn’t responded to any of your praising comments, instead only receiving a mixture of heavy and uneven breathing as a response. “You can do it, sweetheart. Make a mess all over yourself.”

“Mm,” he heard that praise though, his knees felt like jelly. His hand was starting to cramp up but that was the last thing on his mind.

“Please,” he had no clue what he was begging for, the tears that glazed over his eyes started to spill. He hated that it wasn’t enough. Yeah, he was about to come, but his hand made only a decent substitute for yours.

“Gonna come, gonna come,” he repeated the phrase over and over again until his voice nearly gave out, “fuck, gonna—“

His eyebrows were knit together prettily, breathing momentarily paused as he gave some final tugs before his eyes rolled back, his hearing failing on him as all the noises turned to static.

He let out a silent moan, stripes of white landing onto the vest of his uniform. He inhaled and exhaled shuddering breaths as his body shook, slumping against his seat. His body felt limp and weak, hand cramping up from the way he had been going at it. “Oh my god…”

You gave him a couple moments to recuperate himself, “feeling good?”

“Better than good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call,” all the sexual tension of the day was finally exhausted from him, lazy smile forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath—he could hear you laughing over the phone.

“Gotten blue balls or something. Sooo, are you going to write yourself up now for public indecency?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

[astroboots]

period sex with soft marc☹️☹️🥺🥺 him being so sweet n praising you😭😭😭😭 hed take such good care of you<3 i need him

Take Care of Me

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Content: explicit as fuck. Period sex, Marc's competence in overdrive.

Word count: 3k words

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS' MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

Painful is an understatement.

If you had to describe what your period felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human biology this is how you might describe it:

Imagine a battalion of tiny sumo wrestlers duking it out inside your uterus.

Imagine a never-ending game of tag between a horde of stomp-happy elephants using your stomach as the running ground.

Imagine the two allegories combined, but multiple it with three, and imagine having it every month from the time you're a young adolescent until (if you're lucky and god is merciful) it will end when you're in your fifties.

As you lie in your bed, curled up with a hot water bottle tucked to your lower belly, and whine into your pillow, you are convinced that this is some kind of divine punishment. You must have been bathing in virgin's blood to retain youth in a past life. Because you don't know what else you could've done to deserve this. And if you weren't, then if there is a god in heaven, they had better beg for your forgiveness when you get there.

"Want me to make you a cuppa love?"

You drag your face from where it's buried in the pillow to peek up at Steven's worried face.

Big brown eyes gaze down at you with so much concern, he must think you are on your death bed. He's been taking care of you all day. Pampering, coddling, and fussing over you.

He's been refilling your tea before you have time to even empty the cup. Reheating the hot water bottle every twenty minutes before it even has a chance to drop in temperature.

It's incredibly sweet. But you're so tea-ed out at the moment, you think 90% of your body composition is tea at this point.

"'m good."

He frowns, biting down on his lip, and you can sense his worry from bed. "If you don't want tea maybe some hot chocolate? I can even toast some marshmallows on top and I have a packet of biscuits."

You consider his generous proposal for a second or two.

In all honesty, you feel too sick even for chocolate, but you have a feeling that turning down chocolate will truly make Steven think you're dying and try to call the ambulance. So instead you answer, "that sounds lovely Steven."

His whole face brightens up, and he leaps to his feet and darts towards the kitchen.

You close your eyes to the raucous sound of pots and pans being pulled out. In the background, the sound of something crashing clanks out from the direction of the kitchen. It's followed by Steven's familiar comforting voice cursing "bugger" and "oh no," but you're too tired to check for yourself what's going on, as you drift off to sleep.

In your dream, you're wrapped in a comforting warmth. There's a gentle pressure on your stomach and limbs that takes all the pain away. Strong and tender, all at once, you want to linger in this sensation forever.

It's not forever, of course. But your nap lasts long enough that you get a bit of respite from the pain. When you wake again, it's to the distinct smell of burnt sugar lingering in the air.

Strong hands traverse over your hips and stomach, kneading at your sore and aching muscles with a perfect pressure that feels like heaven.

He's sitting at the foot of your bed, with a posture so upright, it's almost militant. The man doesn't need to open his mouth with his Chicagoan accent for you to know it's Marc who's sitting next to you right now.

"Where's Steven?" you ask.

"Put him on a time out. Nearly burnt down the place, trying to torch some marshmallows."

You smile at the image Marc is painting for you. That explains the burnt smell.

"How are you feeling," Marc asks. His hand roams from your stomach to the plane of your thighs. It has everything tingle pleasantly inside of you.

"Better," you tell him. "It feels really good when you do that."

His hand stills for a second, eyes drifting to his own hands. "Want me to keep going?"

You barely have to nod before he starts up again. Large hands covering the insides of your thighs as he presses down with just the right amount of strength.

The sensation spikes across your nerves and rides up your spine until the tense knot in your stomach that has been terrorizing you all day unfurls.

You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch for more. "There, there, don't stop."

It's maddening how good it feels. Marc knows your body like a map of a continent that he's explored every corner of. His hand drifts ever so slightly, fine-tuning his touch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It's the relief you've been begging for all day. Each press of his hand erasing the blunt ache that's been digging into your flesh since you woke up this morning.

That large hand of his, smooths over your bare stomach. The sweet warmth of it soothing any leftover pain that is still there until he cups over the soft fabric of your underwear and replaces it with an altogether different ache that has you squirming and squeezing your legs together.

His hand stills. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" you shout, louder than you intended or expected.

You clutch at his wrists to keep them on you. You're pretty sure that if Marc stopped touching you, you'd combust and die from frustration on the spot. Pretty sure that whatever the equivalent of blue balls is for ovaries is about to descend upon you.

"No, I just..." you flounder for a minute, not entirely sure what to say. Face warm as you say try to find the words. You don't know why the thought is so mortifying to you.

"I'm on my period." You manage to mutter out.

Marc cocks his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. He looks genuinely puzzled at what you've just told him. "I know...so?"

"It'll make a mess," you tell him, and you don't know how he's so casual about this. God knows your neat-freak of a boyfriend hates a mess. "I don't want to ick you out".

Ick him out? Why do you sound like a kid on the playground talking about cooties?

There's no worry in Marc's eyes as he observes you. None of the big round doe-like eyes of Steven. His eyes are narrowed, honed in on your face.

"Fuck the mess," he says.

There's a simmering heat in his voice as he says it that makes everything between your legs slick and achy as he leans even closer to you. "I want to make you feel better. You okay with that?"

You nod and the tip of his fingers skirts the edge of your panties before slipping inside. Despite your earlier embarrassment at the idea, your breath stutters with anticipation.

You're so fucking wet. Slick and hot, as his thumb presses down and has sharp electricity crackle down your spine. You find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, and Marc is more than happy to take it as an invitation.

Two fingers slide inside you, filling you perfectly, until you realize you feel a slickness trickle down the heel of Marc's hand.

"Fuck, Marc-- wait, it's--" you squeak in alarm as you feel it drip between your legs. "It's gonna get on the bed."

He doesn't stop, fingers continuing its languid pace on your clit, as he keeps stroking it to the pace of his liking. His mouth is on your neck, hot and humid as he murmurs into your skin.

"You really think a little blood is gonna keep me out of that pretty little pussy? Open up for me baby, let me take care of you."

And god...

You do. Of course you do, you'd do anything Marc asks and wants from you when he speaks to you in that tone and register. Your legs spread even further, tilting into his doting touch as he slides his fingers deeper.

Heat simmer all along the length of your spine, brandishing it with pleasure that has you struggling for breath.

His other hand comes to cup your face, while his fingers are still busy circling and gently strumming at your clit. He makes it seem so effortless as he does it.

There's no hesitation in his movements, two fingers bracketing your clit and he gently slides and teases you there that has that all familiar warmth already furling in your lower abdomen. Insistent and never rushed, you feel his fingers everywhere, until he brushes over something devastatingly good that has your vision go white for a brief moment.

"That's it baby, you're alright. So good for me, you don't have to think about anything else. All I need is for you to feel good. Come on my hand," his voice rasps in your ear.

Smooth and calming. Loving and commanding.

You don't stand a chance.

It's all it takes.

You drown in it, your climax claiming your limbs as the sensation streaks down your legs and wraps around your bones. You shake and jolt in his arms but he holds you there to him, not letting you pull away as you squirm away from the overstimulation and makes you ride the high against the palm of his reassuring hand.

He comforts you through it. All gentle caresses and soothing hushes as he presses his soft lips on your forehead.

"That's my good fucking girl."

Through the haze of your bliss, you reach for him. One finger hooking onto his belt to drag him closer.

You're too out of it to fully register what you're doing or properly express what you want. All you know is you want more of him. More of Marc. More of his sturdy firm weight on you. The warmth of his skin pressed against you. Of him, inside you.

"Want my cock baby?"

You nod, and much like before, Marc immediately complies.

He always does. Never does deny you of anything.

One hand comes to the front of his jeans, and you don't have to wait long for him as he pulls himself free of his jeans. Cock hard, and jutting up proudly that has you salivating at the sight of it.

Gripping his cock in one hand, Marc kneels over you, notching the fat tip against your entrance. The moment you feel him, you forget about any shred of hesitation you had just moments earlier about making a mess.

Because right now you don't care if you ruin Steven's sheets and leave a crime scene behind you. Every single thought in your mind has been replaced by the overarching need to have this man inside you.

He leans over, arms bracketing you in as he presses into you, stretching you, inch by perfect, beautiful, fucking, inch that has you seeing stars even in the daylight.

You feel him everywhere, every slow thrust and cant of his hips pressed so deeply into you, you're not sure you can breathe. You cling to every inch of him, legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to let go but not sure you can take more of him either.

Full, you feel so fucking full.

"Too much?" Marc asks, eyes examining you, making sure you're alright.

You don't know how to answer him. It is a lot. So much, with all of him, every perfect inch of him filling you to capacity. It's too much and yet you want all of it and more. Want more and want him to never stop. So you tell him exactly that.

"No. Don't stop, don't stop," you beg. "Keep fucking me, please."

One big, warm hand settles low on your stomach, before it wanders, brushing teasingly through your folds and oh-so-gently over and around your clit until you think you might scream.

You bite down on your lip, worried that if you actually do scream, he'll stop out of worry. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, trying to calm yourself but it only makes it all the more intense.

Behind closed eyes, the pleasure surges through your chest, and you can feel every careful and calculated movement that Marc makes as he slowly drags his cock out of you, until only the fat head rests inside you. Then he pushes back inside again, just as slow and it has tears stinging your eyes.

Slow and thorough. Deep and controlled. He's murmuring in your ear the whole time, his voice low and rough.

"Relax for me baby," he tells you, "I'm gonna take care of you like I always do. Fill your pretty pussy with my cock until you feel all better, okay?"

Better doesn't begin to describe it. You feel good. Feel so good you're overripe with pleasure that seems to be bursting along the seam of your skin.

The hand on your stomach, presses and holds you in place as you start to squirm against him to goad his fingers to where you need them.

But even when he complies, giving you what you like he always does, zeroing in on your clit, his caresses stay light and gentle. His thumb barely brushes over you, as he keeps the pace agonizingly slow and soft that have you shivering and shaking in his arms.

The taunting pleasure builds ever so slowly in your core. The light and teasing touches too much and not enough all at once, and your oversensitive, overwrought cunt clenches and flex endlessly, squeezing down around the thickness Marc’s cock.

You can feel his body jerk over yours each time, and you revel in the soft grunts and gasps you’re driving from him, because surely, surely now he’ll let go and fuck you fast and hard until you're crying.

But he still doesn’t. Doesn't lose control. Just presses gentle kisses to your shoulder, murmuring over and over again. "It’s okay, I got you, Going to make you feel so good".

He says it like a promise. As if he isn't already doing exactly that. He's making you feel so fucking good. So good that you can hardly stand it. So good that you're writhing in his arms, clutching and clawing at his arm and hand and wrist, not sure if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. But it doesn't matter, he might as well be a stone statue for all the hope you have of moving him anywhere he doesn't want to you be yet.

You can feel the all too familiar tension in his body. Those strong thick thighs as hard as iron between yours. You swear you can feel the furious pounding of his heart where you're pressed back against his chest. Or maybe that's your own pulse pounding loud and frantic in your ears, but it doesn't matter, because you know he's close too.

"Fuck you feel so good," he murmurs into your skin and if you didn't know better you'd think he sounded shaky.

The pleasure builds, streaking up your torso in little lightning bolt pulses that tighten your nipples to achingly hard little points and steal the breath from your lungs.

The heat of Marc's body against you is unbearable, his hot breath and lips sliding over your shoulder, your neck, the curve of your jaw, and all the while, his fingers, those clever, competent fingers keep up their slow, ruinous circling, driving you higher inch by devastating inch.

You can't breathe anymore, can't see, can't think to the point you're pretty sure you can't feel your feet. Do you even have feet anymore? The only thing that's grounding you is the security of Marc's arms wrapped around you, the quiet cadence of his voice, whispering low and soft and still oh so sweet in your ear.

It's too much. Everything in you winding higher and tighter, filling you so full of pleasure that you swear you'll burst, but somehow still you don't. Can't. You need–

You clutch at Marc, gasp out a garbled sound that might be his name. You want to tell him that you can't stand it, that you need more, need all of him, everything that he has to give, but you've lost the ability to speak.

Instead, your body tells him for you, your cunt squeezing down around him, and refusing to let go. All of you drawn tight, tighter, tightest.

There's a breathless, "Oh. Baby. Fuck." in your ear, and Marc's hips jerk against you. Just once, the tiniest upward hitch. But it's enough. It's more than enough.

The unbearable, blissful tension holding your body hostage shatters, and wave after wave of unparalleled rapture roll though you, sharp and sweet and endless. The breath you didn't think you had left leaves you in a loud keening cry, that's echoed by a low, pained groan, and you can feel Marc's cock swell and pulse as he spills inside you, unable to resist the calling of your body's climax.

You ride out your orgasms together, your hips grinding needily into his, his fingers gripped harshly into your flesh, until the seemingly endless pleasure finally releases you both from its grip and you collapse back against Marc's solid bulk.

The arms around you relax, his clean hand smoothing over your belly and thighs. His voice hoarse and low, but still so, so syrupy sweet and gentle as he reassures you that you're okay, that he's got you, that he'll always be there when you need him.

You're boneless against him. Arms lying limply by your side on the damp mattress. Every bit of tension wrung out of you, like an old flannel that been wetted and twisted dry one too may times; worn out, but warm and cozy and relaxed.

"Feeling any better?" Marc asks eventually, arms tightening ever-so-subtly around you.

You don't have it in you to answer him with words, but you manage a small, contented giggle, snuggling back further into his embrace and tilting your head back to nuzzle his jaw.

That seems to be enough for him. He cranes his neck to press a soft kiss to your lips, then settles back, and the two of you stay there, cuddled together, warm and content and sated.

Content... just so fucking content, except...

Content is an understatement to what you're feeling wrapped in Marc's arms like this.

If you had to describe what this moment felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human emotions this is how you might describe it:

Imagine snow falling outside and you are wrapped up safely in a heavy blanket around your tired limbs.

Imagine the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee brewing (just the way you like it) in the morning after a hangover.

Imagine all of that combined and it still wouldn't even begin to do it any justice.

A/N: Thank you nonny for this ask, literally when you sent it I was having the period from actual hell and was in tears and wailing and crying in bed. This was a really nice escape to write this oneshot with TWP.

[eiightysixbaby]

rise and shine

pairing: farmhand!jonathan x farmer’s daughter!fem!reader

jonathan works on your father’s farm, and you’re strictly forbidden to mess around with him. but on a sweltering summer day one thing leads to the next, and i guess what your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him… (5.5k)

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, use of petnames, jonathan’s nickname for reader is ‘birdie’, this is filthyyyy so pls let me know if i forgot anything lol

a/n: farmhand!jonathan was born during a conversation with @onegirlmanytales, so this one is for you gia. our beautiful beautiful boy <3 as always, reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! love u guys xoxo

The heat is already unbearable, and the sun is barely even up. The kind of dry, suffocating warmth that steals your breath and makes you feel sluggish.

A golden morning glow is cast across the fields as Jonathan stomps towards the barn, the rubbery soles of his boots crunching against dry grass. He heaves open the heavy metal latch to the thick wooden door, inhaling the stale, overwhelming scent of the animals. He’s mostly used to the smells by now, though they’re amplified on the brutally hot days like this one.

He starts his path from one stall to the next. His favorite horse, Nimbus, presses her hoof into the dusty dirt of the barn floor, chortling at him. A smile graces his features as he reaches a hand out to stroke her long snout, palm flat against the bristly softness of her coat.

“Hey, girl. Good morning,” he speaks softly to her, and she nuzzles into his hand. He gives her a few extra scratches for good measure before he continues to walk through and greet the rest of the bunch.

There's three other horses in this barn, along with the cows. The rabbits have their own coop outside, as do the chickens and ducks. He knows the morning routine like the back of his hand, and he floats through his tasks as if on autopilot. The animals get kisses and pats from him, snacks and fresh water. Even as he sweats through his clothes, he feels at peace caring for them all.

All of the animals seem to like him; even the ones with the wildest tempers turn mild when he's around. He tries to be modest about this, but his mom and brother definitely hear him gush about it when he comes home from a long day. He can’t help it, he’s a little bit proud of himself.

He's collecting eggs from the hens when he spots you. Beautiful, bright, perfect you flouncing down the porch steps in your pretty sundress, the fabric adorned with what he assumes are tiny flowers but can't quite discern from this distance. The yellow metal watering can sways in your hand, clanking against the concrete slab beneath the water spout as you set it down.

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s been staring until you turn to him with a cheery wave.

“Mornin’ Jonathan!” you call, and he feels his cheeks flush with warmth at the realization of being caught.

He waves, a half smile gracing his lips. “Morning, Birdie.”

The nickname is one he’d given you after he caught you awake early one morning, feeding the birds and taking notes about each type that visited your porch. He’d approached as quietly as he could so as not to disturb them, and he let you show him the feathers you’d collected and the sketches you’d done of the creatures. He marveled at it all, really, and unbeknownst to you it only made him more smitten for you.

If he's honest with himself, the best moments of his days working the ranch are when he sees you. He thinks about you constantly, and he has - on more than one occasion - come home smiling giddily about an interaction he'd had with you only to blush profusely when his brother would tease him.

The problem here, is your father. He’s the owner of the ranch and thus is Jonathan's employer, an under-the-table type of situation, and the man is protective as all hell of you. The last thing he needs to do is breach your father’s trust and risk his job. He thinks maybe he'd also be risking his life.

But the way the sunlight makes your complexion shine, bouncing off your skin radiantly makes his knees buckle. Your smile when you look at him makes his palms sweat. The soft sound of your humming floating towards him makes his heart soar.

You make him forget all of his inhibitions. And it's equal parts exciting and terrifying.

The water trickles from the can’s spout, sparkling in the sunlight as it falls over the beautiful flowers surrounding your porch. You’re careful to give each plant more than enough water, and he watches you intently as if this is some incredibly riveting task.

When you go to refill the can a second time, he realizes that he hasn't moved in far too long. He promptly forces himself to turn on his heel, heading back to let the animals out of their pens to graze. His footsteps feel mechanical, like he has a tinier version of himself controlling his body from a panel inside of his brain.

Don't be a moron, he thinks to himself. Be fucking cool.

He busies himself by cleaning out each of the pens within the barn, sweeping the old ruddy broom along the brown dirt floors, watching as its dry bristles occasionally fall off in its trail. He doesn't even flinch as he shovels waste from each stable, his once squeamish demeanor having been tampered with time and experience. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stringy bangs soaked beneath the wide brim of his hat. He can feel the fabric of his soft cotton shirt already clinging to his back, a sensation that’s entirely too much in this kind of heat.

He turns around, peeking out of the barn doors. There’s no sign of you anymore, and he doesn’t see your father or anyone else either. He supposes it’s alright to take his shirt off, given there’s no one near to offend.

Little does he know, as he reaches an arm around to his back and hoists the fabric up and off, you’re watching shyly from your kitchen window. Peering through the patterned curtains, chewing on your lip. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl a straw around your glass of lemonade, lost in a trance.

Jonathan has more muscle on him than you expected, though you aren’t sure why this is a surprise to you given the hard work he does. You can see the distinct lines on his arms where his tan doesn’t reach, the result of too many days working in the sun with t-shirts on. He stretches, his shoulder blades protruding like wings, and you nearly feel yourself start to drool as his muscles flex and pull. He bends down to retrieve his hat, the unmarked surface of his back on display.

You long to feel his skin beneath your palms, to reach out and touch his back, trace a finger from one freckle to the next until you’ve created a constellation only you can see. You want to leave marks, dig your nails in until you’ve left evidence that you’ve been there.

The longer you stare, watching him as he continues tidying up, the warmer you become. You can feel a searing desire forming between your legs, bare thighs squeezing hard together beneath your tiny dress.

You aren’t sure where your father went, but you know you haven’t seen him around the barn at all this morning. How bad could it be to go out there with Jonathan, really?

The skin of your lip grows raw as your teeth wear at it further, debating your next move or rather, hyping yourself up to make it. Your body buzzes with nerves, clenching your hands into fists before opening your palms once more.

Screw it. Screw it, you're going out there.

Before you can convince yourself to stay inside and hide away from the man, you're pouring another glass of lemonade to take out to him. Slipping on your shoes and swinging open the screen door that spits you out onto your porch. Bees buzz at your sides when you pass the flowering bushes, sun searing your skin the second you're exposed to its harsh rays.

It's sweltering, that's for certain, and coming out here under the guise of bringing Jonathan something to drink is innocent enough.

He doesn't hear you approaching, your footsteps barely making a sound as you trod across the grass. He's hunched over slightly, rinsing dirt from his hands with the garden hose and a bar of soap he keeps in the barn.

“Hey,” is all that comes out of your mouth at first. He spins to face you, visibly startled by your presence. Water runs from the hose that's now soaking the parched grass where it lays, before he hastily shuts off the water supply. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you might be thirsty,” you hold the glass out to him, twisting your lips.

“Oh, t-thanks,” he stammers, accepting the offering. The glass is cold in his hand, already sweating from the heat. Droplets of water fall from the bottom of the cup and onto the ground by his boots, unable to cling to the warming surface any longer. His mouth suddenly feels dry, whether from the heat or your proximity he can't decipher, but he suspects it's the latter.

You don't move from your spot in front of him, your pretty eyes nearly sparkling as you watch him take a sip of the drink. You look like you want to pounce on him.

You watch intently as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes a few greedy swallows, your cheeks hot and feverish at all of the thoughts that swirl through your head.

“Mm,” he hums, pulling the glass rim from his lips. His eyes can't help but rake over your frame, focusing too hard on the way your dress flatters your body. “It's real sweet,” he says, gaze zoning in on your lips. How the soft layer of shiny gloss makes them look enticing, like ripe fruit ready to be picked.

Your teeth sink into the plump skin of your bottom lip, batting your lashes at him. You're toeing a dangerous line, but both of you want nothing more than to cross it.

A small noise dies in his throat, like he was going to speak but can’t bring himself to. He sets his glass down, his hands trembling slightly. You step closer to him, the heat unbearable, but you’re no longer sure if it’s the sun or your own desire warming the atmosphere. You feel two-hundred degrees, and you can guess Jonathan feels the same.

“Do you want to… take a break? You work so hard, and you must be so hot,” you say, saccharine and faux-innocent, your index finger trailing featherlight down his chest. You know what you’re doing, and he knows it, too.

“Birdie...” he warns. “Your dad—”

“Don't worry about my dad. He's not around, no one has to know,” you gaze at him, watching as he rubs a hand down his face. “I won't let anything bad happen, even if he finds out,” you add, taking his hand in yours.

You flip his palm up, running your thumb along the rough skin. He's quiet, but breathing too heavily for someone who's standing still.

God, he might regret this. But he can't bring himself to care quite enough to do anything to stop it. He knows what your next move is before it happens.

And then, in one swift motion you're pressing your lips to his, closing the gap between your bodies. His bare chest pressed to your clothed one, his breath catching in his throat. He feels himself melt into you just as you pull away.

You blink at him, having stepped just slightly backward. Instantly he's wishing you'd come back. Like now that he’s had one taste of you, he can’t fathom going another second without it. Your gaze stays focused on his lips and it makes him feel like jelly, you look like you could devour him and he wants to let you. His eyes search your face rather frantically before he makes a decision.

His hands reach up to cup your face, pulling your lips back to his. He pushes you back easily until you're pressed against the outer wall of the barn, mouthing hungrily at one another beneath the scorching sun. One hand glides up your thigh, rucking up the fabric of your dress as you expose your neck to him, letting him kiss and bite at the tender skin. Tasting the sweat that beads, lapping it away with his tongue like he'd dreamt of doing for weeks.

Then, as if suddenly remembering where he is, he draws back, looking around behind him to ensure no one's there. That typical skittish demeanor creeping back in. One of his hands remains at your hip, his eyes searching yours. His nervousness makes your heart flutter.

“Should we… could we… take this into the barn?” he asks softly, making your lips twist into a small smile.

Wordlessly, you hook two fingers into his belt loops. You walk backwards, pulling him along with you until you’re sheltered inside the building. Instantly, you’re coaxing his face to yours again, pressing your lips to his in an urgent, pleading kiss.

“No one’s gonna catch us,” you murmur against soft lips. “I promise.”

And there’s no way you can be sure of that, he knows it too, but your voice sounds so soothing that he nods in agreement.

He shuts one of the rickety barn doors just to be even safer, leaving the other open for airflow before he lets his lips attach to yours once more. You kiss each other like you’re starving, affection-deprived, and before you know it he's walking you backwards and coaxing you onto the hay bales that rest in the corner. They're stacked in neat, cut rectangles, and you perch your bottom on the top one, letting Jonathan's frame slip between your legs.

The hay is scratchy against the plush backs of your thighs, but it's only a minor annoyance in your current state. A well worth it trade-off for the way Jonathan's hands caress your knees, sliding up your legs until they're pushing up the fabric of your dress. His fingertips are searing against your skin, branding you. Now that you've felt his touch, you can never go back.

Your head spins when he drops to his knees before you, your brain lagging in its attempt to catch up with what's happening. Palms splayed on your thighs, his soft brown eyes gaze up at you, pupils wide with lust. He continues to hike up your dress until it's bunched up at your hips, your pretty cotton panties staring him in the face. An index finger reaches out to flick the tiny pink bow that rests on the waistband, a soft smirk spreading across his kissable mouth.

He leans his face forward, breath fanning out over your clothed core. You flinch, eagerly anticipating his mouth on you. He sticks his tongue out, tentatively allowing it to lick a flat stripe over your panties. Gasping, your hands haphazardly push his hat off of his head, fingers tangling in his damp mop of hair. A strangled whimper clambers from his throat, his lips mouthing at your clothed cunt. The cotton fabric grows more and more moist by the second, his tongue pressing tantalizingly against it, making your back arch.

“Jonny, please—”

His fingers loop beneath the waistband of your underwear at either hip, beginning to tug them down as if to quiet you.

“Shh, angel. Don't have to beg,” he murmurs softly, shifting to bring your legs together momentarily, pulling the small bit of clothing completely off.

Back between your thighs, he eyes your bare pussy hungrily before shifting his gaze up to meet your eyes. “Gonna take such good care of you, like you deserve.”

His mouth presses a soft kiss to your mound, tongue poking out to test the waters; to get its bearings. He licks and sucks experimentally, repeating actions when you moan or whine in favor of one in particular. Perspiration prickles on every inch of your skin, the heat of the growing afternoon coupled with the fiery blaze he's set across your nerve endings making you swelter.

He grows more confident with every second, letting his tongue lick inside of you, collecting the sweetness that pools just for him. He lets out a satisfied grunt, lapping at you ravenously, your fingers pulling roughly on his hair. He seems emboldened by this, spurred on by each tug to his soft locks. Your head tips back, moaning his name at the vaulted ceiling of the barn while he teases your clit with his greedy mouth.

He pauses to take a good look at you, his cheeks beautifully flushed, his body heaving slightly as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes makes it seem like he's trying to commit your every feature to permanent memory.

“Jonathan...” you mewl, letting your hands fall loose from his hair and cradle his face instead.

Your core throbs for him, a deep incessant ache that commands to be quelled. He reads your mind, his desperation matching yours. He rises just enough for his lips to meet yours, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. The sweet tang of your arousal has you moaning into the kiss, your hand reaching down to paw at his crotch through his jeans. You gasp at the bulge that awaits you, his impatient cock pressing against its confines.

He hisses in a pleased sort of agony, the friction so glorious yet not nearly enough. Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clunky metallic buckle falling to the side. He watches you, lips parted, as you unbutton and unzip the dust-covered jeans, pushing them down his thighs. His thin boxers do very little to conceal the shape of his cock, the size catching you off guard. Your delicate palm squeezes it, reveling in the pleased noise that escapes him in response.

“Shit,” you murmur, letting the pad of your thumb roll over the head, precum leaking through the checked fabric.

His body jerks against his will, hips bucking pitifully into your hand. Your hand slips beneath the boxers, mercifully, fingers wrapping around the base of him once his cock is fully free.

You give it a few slow strokes, watching the way his eyes flutter closed. Encouraged, you pump his length faster, the corner of your mouth kicking up when he groans.

“I've - ah - I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea,” he says. “You’re so beautiful. I swear I think about you every day.” His cheeks are rosy, shy with his confession.

“I bet I’ve wanted this just as long as you have,” you reply softly, letting the pad of your thumb swipe over the leaking head of his cock, pearlescent arousal making the motion slick.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging hard into your thighs as you tease. You’re entranced by him, your eyes focused in on the deep blush pink of his erection. You can feel saliva collecting in your mouth, your nerve endings vibrating with a desire to taste him.

“Why don’t we switch spots? Come sit here, so I can take care of you,” you murmur, batting your lashes up at him as your fingers gently squeeze his shaft.

His eyelids flutter, the warm brown of his irises rolling back at the touch and at your words. He rises on shaky legs and you follow suit, guiding him to sit on the stacked bales. The perfect makeshift throne for him to sit upon, the perfect spot for you to kneel before him and worship him the way you so badly need to. Your knees touch the dusty ground, the rough barn floor uncomfortable against them. You pay it little mind, however, simply itching to get your lips on the prize that lay before you.

Jonathan looks down at you with his lip tugged slightly between his teeth. His hand brushes hair out of your face, cupping your head gently as you gaze starry-eyed up at him.

His cock twitches as if in a plea, and it draws you to him. You grip the base in one hand, sticking your tongue out flat to collect the pearly white beads of precum that drip from the slit. You make direct eye contact as you lick at him, his body jolting with pleasure at the first touch of your tongue to his most sensitive part. His hands grip at the earthy yellow straw beneath him before finding their way to your hair, conscious of keeping it out of your face.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, your soft lips wrapping around him, engulfing him in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

You hum, pleased, before beginning to bob your head. Your tongue glides along his shaft, coating him in your saliva. You take him as deep as you can, until there's a pressure at the back of your throat and your eyes water in warning. He groans in spite of himself when you gag, catching himself instantly to ask if you're okay.

You nod wordlessly, cheeks flushing at his sweetness. You want to pull more noises from him, and you continue to take him into your throat so that you gag again. His head is thrown back, cock twitching in your mouth. Your saliva drips down it, pooling at the corners of your mouth and dribbling down your chin. He notices this, wiping at the wetness on your chin with his thumb.

“God damn, Birdie. M-making such a mess,” he stammers, looking down at you with those glorious lust-blown eyes.

You hum around him once more, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. He whines at this, the tendons in his neck straining, putting all of his effort into not spilling down your throat.

“Please,” he pants. ���Please let me be inside you.”

Pulling off of his cock, a string of spit connects your bottom lip to his red tip for only a moment before you swipe it away. He's bending down in an instant, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He grips your face with both hands, a strained noise clawing at his throat when your tongues dance around one another.

He pulls back after a moment, but he does so in a way that makes it seem like it physically pains him to do it. His hands paw at your waist, encouraging you up. You stand, moving between his spread knees. Climbing atop his lap, you can feel yourself throb with anticipation, your body begging to have him fill it.

His rosy cheeks, flushed from both heat and exertion, dimple slightly when he smiles at you. His eyes are flecked with gold from the sunlight that trickles through the slits in the walls, looking at you like you're the most ethereal being he's ever laid eyes on.

His hands hold your hips, bunching up your dress so it pools at the juncture between hip and thigh. You grind yourself on him, your wet heat teasing his cock.

“Oh fuck, you're so perfect,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your hair, his face burying itself at the side of your neck.

A tiny content moan escapes you, your skin ablaze where his lips press to your neck.

“Please, Jonathan,” you whine, rolling your hips again.

“Didn't I say you don't have to beg, sweet girl? I'm right here, do what you want with me,” he says, and this time he's the one who sounds like he might be begging.

Do what you want with me.

Your breaths come out heavy as you raise up just enough to line him up with your entrance, beads of precum dripping down his cock and making your palm slick. He twitches at the contact, his blunt nails digging in to the meat of your ass.

A long, low grumble of a moan slowly leaves his lips the second you guide his tip past your entrance. Your lips part, head thrown back as he slowly pushes deeper inside. The stretch is euphoric, your walls expanding to accommodate him with little resistance.

“Oh, fuck—” Jonathan hisses, tilting his chin to kiss at your jawline.

Outside, you hear the hens clucking contentedly, mourning doves cooing softly from trees. For a fleeting moment you remember the possibility of getting caught, hoping you maintain your privacy at least long enough to finish what you’ve started here.

Your skin is sticky where it touches his, sweat collecting in every crease and crevice. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, and just when you think he can’t possibly have more to give you, he’s pushing in the rest of the way. He grips you tightly as he bottoms out, pressed to the hilt inside of you. You both moan in unison, your hands holding loosely to his shoulders.

He’s still for a moment, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with his panting.

“Just— just need a second. Sorry, you feel so fucking good,” he says, willing himself not to finish right here right now. “God dammit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Take your time,” you purr softly, simply enjoying the feeling of being so full. You let your hands travel to his neck, thumbs tracing down the column of his throat before reaching his chest. Perspiration beads on his soft skin, pink flush reaching down his neck to his chest.

Slowly, he starts to encourage the movement of your hips. Gripping them firmly, he aids you in finding a good rhythm. You let yourself rock lightly on top of him, his strong arms helping you along and making your head spin. The soft head of his cock presses so deeply inside of you you practically start drooling, unable to stop yourself from bouncing faster.

He doesn’t discourage your increasing pace; instead his head falls back in ecstasy, curses tumbling from his kiss-bitten lips. The quicker you move the tighter his hands seem to grip your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin, sure to leave a sore spot.

You’re drenching him, easing the movements with your arousal, and each slick glide feels better than you could’ve imagined.

“Jonathan, oh my god—” you cry, hands pawing desperately at his bare chest. Your nails drag marks down the soft skin, and he groans in response.

Your body grows fatigued, thighs burning, and he notices the steady slowing of your bouncing. He takes over with ease, wrapping his arms around you and rising to a standing position. You gasp at the different angle, his cock seemingly pressing deeper still, and then you feel your back hit the wall.

He cages you in tight against the wooden slabs, your legs wrapped firmly around his thin waist. Your stomach flips in a new wave of excitement, taking him at this brand new angle. You surrender any control you had, letting him take the reins. He so desperately needs to, to get out all of that pent up frustration from day after day of watching you from afar. Wondering what you’d feel like, sound like, taste like.

Now that he has you like this, pliant and eager, he wants to give every ounce of himself to you.

He doesn’t start slow, doesn’t need to ease into it in this new position like he did at first. His thrusts come hard and fast, sending you reeling. You watch the way the tendons in his neck flex and pull, straining with exertion. He grunts with his effort, little noises escaping in time with each thrust.

He leans in to bite at the lobe of your ear, his face twisting in a sort of growl; a snarl. He’s primal in the way he fills you, claiming you as his in a surge of power he doesn’t typically possess. It’s like a switch has flipped, his shyness and hesitation disappearing. You wonder where this side of him has been hiding, and you can only hope you’ll get to experience it again.

“You feel,” he grunts, gritting his teeth for a fleeting moment as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust. “So fucking good.”

All you can do is moan in response, a high-pitched little sound that spurs him on further. Your nails sink into his back, clawing down the surface, sure to leave marks in their wake. He bites at your bottom lip, tugging on it until you whine.

The sounds your bodies make together are obscene, slippery wet squelching coupled with the slap of skin on skin. If anyone were to walk by, there’d be no doubt about what’s going on.

Every single thrust has you crying out for him, the way he hits that perfect spot inside of you each time making you tremble in his grasp. The pleasure is white-hot, lapping at every inch of your body. You can feel yourself inching closer and closer to your release, and you’re so desperate to have it.

“Jon, ‘m so close,” you whine, barely clinging on to him while he fucks you senseless.

“Ah fuck, yeah? Y’gonna cum for me?” he asks, near breathless as he continues to pound into you. He looks so fucked out and perfect; bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyes heavy-lidded in bliss, watching you carefully.

And the way he asks the question, it sounds like he’s dying for you to finish. Like he’s begging you to clench around his length, squeeze him so tight, drench him with your arousal. Like he can’t possibly believe you’re about to cum for him.

But you are, and with a few more quick and sloppy thrusts of his hips you’re crying out his name; screaming so loud you can hear the birds in the tree outside flutter away in a frenzy.

“Fuck, oh god, oh god,” Jonathan pants, and you’re certain he’s about to lose it as your walls tighten around him in a rhythmic pulsation. “Where can I cum? Where do you want it?”

“Inside, has to be inside,” you whine. “Please.”

You barely get the final word out before you can feel him hurtling to an abrupt halt, hips stilling as he twitches inside of your warm wet cunt. He paints your insides, giving you every possible drop that he has.

“Shit, Birdie,” he says, nearly gasping for air. “You’re unreal. You know that? You’re absolutely incredible.”

You stay panting like that for a while, joined together, your sticky skin against his. He noses at your cheek, pressing soft kisses to it as you try to regain a normal breathing pattern.

He pulls out slowly then, a slippery mess formed where your bodies met. Your legs fall from around his waist, standing up on wobbly limbs that barely contain the strength to support you. His hands reach up to cradle your cheeks, his eyes wild with delight as they search your face.

Your heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, fluttering rapidly with the way he’s looking at you. Before you can say anything he’s smashing his lips against yours, a slow and passionate kiss that rivals all the others that came before.

It lasts for a while, but you don’t feel like it’s been nearly long enough when he pulls away.

“I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to act like this never happened,” he says, an almost frantic look in his eyes.

“Jonathan—”

“I want you. And I don’t care what your dad thinks. I want to take you on nice dates, and watch the birds with you, and kiss you like this every single day.”

You feel like your heart may explode, like it’s swelling larger and larger with each of his words.

“I want that, too. We’ll figure this out, okay? I swear,” you reassure him, kissing him again. Pouring all of your affection into him and hoping he feels it.

“Promise me.”

“I promise you. I couldn’t stay away if I wanted to,” you say, smiling lightly. He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, slick with sweat.

You know it’s time to let him get back to work, but you’re reluctant to end the moment.

“I should really get back to it,” he says bashfully, as if reading your mind and feeling sorry he had to.

“Yeah, you should,” you agree, kissing the backs of both of his hands before letting him pull away.

He redresses while you watch in silent awe, studying the way his body moves. He catches you staring, his cheeks reddening adorably.

Both of you step out of the barn, back into the unforgiving sunlight. You’re about to head inside when you stop yourself, turning on your heel.

“I know you usually go home around four. Could you be back and freshened up around five-thirty?” you ask him.

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“Because, we have a date to go on.”

“Are you sure you—”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” you say earnestly, and the grin that breaks out on his face is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what exactly you’re going to say to your dad, but you’ll figure it out.

“Okay. Five-thirty. See you then, Birdie.”

With a little wave, you’re heading back inside. He doesn’t miss the slight wobble in your legs, or the trail of his release that runs down your thigh. And when he hears your dad’s car pull up the drive, he gives him a smug little wave.

What a way to start the day.

[aesthetic-bbyg]

BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji

LA!sanji x fem!reader

Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)

Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏

ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.

You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.

The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.

“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.

You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.

“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.

“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.

The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.

In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.

“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”

He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.

He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”

You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.

Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.

He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.

“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”

“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”

“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.

“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”

You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.

“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.

“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”

The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.

“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”

You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”

THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.

You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.

“We have a VIP menu?”

“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.

You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.

Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”

“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”

“I see it every day, darling.”

You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.

Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.

“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”

Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.

You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”

Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”

His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”

“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”

The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”

“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”

“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.

“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.

Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.

But if he must wait all his life, he will.

sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time

lord pls send help.