hannieehaee · 2 days ago
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had a hard day in work so a member will j make u feel good with their mouth and hands mmmm
18+ / mdi
them helping their s/o relax after work
content: smut, established relationship, afab reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of sex, mentions of m receiving oral, etc.
wc: 690
a/n: thank u for requesting<33
masterlist
seungcheol -
you don't even have to ask. he knows the telltale signs of your tiredness and has an entire routine ready for the days when you come home a little extra tired. he'll bathe you, wine and dine you, and end the day with some head for you to fall asleep to.
jeonghan -
even as he attempts to relax you, he'll still tease you. he knows that the buildup will make it all even better, but he also just enjoys getting you to whine at him and pull at his hair with half-hearted demands for more.
joshua -
so cocky and annoying about it lol he'll make you have to beg for it, teasing you until the very last minute before going at you as if you were his last minute. and even then, he'll tease you by slowing down his touches every so often, asking you about your stressful day while between your legs.
jun -
at some point, he's learned to just let you take whatever you want on these extra stressful days. gets you sitting on his face and having your way with him, kind of broken by the way you whine at his nose touching you just right. would need some assistance after the fact to rid himself of his own arousal.
soonyoung -
he's like pavlov's dogs, he's just become conditioned to getting on his knees and ready to spread your legs when you come home in a certain mood. it's like a treat to him, knowing he can have you and that he's also helping you wind down after a stressful day. win win.
wonwoo -
will be between your legs, asking you questions about your day and expecting you to answer as he licks and licks and licks. hums along, keeping up with the conversation despite being otherwise occupied. feels this is the best form of unwinding for you, as it's both mental and physical.
jihoon -
ur tired? he's equally, if not more, exhausted. but it's okay, he can power through his tiredness to take care of the both of you! he'd get a bath ready and innocently help you wash the day away. naturally, he'd eventually grow distracted by the sight of your pretty, wet, nude body and become consumed by you, offering himself up for your pleasure to help you relax further.
seokmin -
it's become kind of a routine thing for him to let you ride his face any time you're stressed. you get to a point where you don't even have to communicate it verbally anymore. you just have to kiss him a certain type of way and he's already ushering you up his body.
mingyu -
this man is a much so he'll use any excuse possible to get his face between your legs for as long as he can. it's therapeutic for him too, so it's kind of self-serving to him in a way. will likely hump the bed until he comes as he eats you out.
minghao -
believes sexual acts to be incredibly therapeutic for couples, so giving you head when you're tired and stressed was probably his idea. didn't even think of it in a horny way but more in a 'i want to take care of you' type of way. happy to relax you and get you to sleep like this.
seungkwan -
he becomes pussydrunk so quickly he literally forgets why he was eating you out in the first place. forgets immediately that he was also tired to begin with, automatically relaxing as he eats you out. perfect bonding activity, he thinks.
vernon -
he'll be a little confused the first few times you ask him for this, but he'll never complain about it!! cannot help getting impossibly hard after he's done, always nudging your cunt with his nose to silently ask if he can fuck you to sleep.
chan -
it's like he's on a competition to impress you every time he's between your legs. he tries to outdo himself every time, sometimes even stressing you out as he eats at you because of how intense he is. needs you to reel him back by controlling his pace every so often.
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tapwater-made-everyone-gay · 18 hours ago
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!!!SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T LISTENED TO THE VENGEANCE SAGA OF EPIC THE MUSICAL!!!
I find it really interesting that people are so upset about the Poseidon loss, using “it’s weird that a mortal beat a god” when the whole thing with gods in Greek mythology is that they’re parallels to humans. That’s why they have emotions, human anatomy, feel pain, and bleed (even if it is ichor that comes out). There are multiple cases of gods being beaten by humans, primarily demigods, but still humans—MORTALS. What makes them so powerful is their domain. Take that away? They’re practically powerless.
Poseidon is shown to be arrogant, claiming that the only reason he’s still hunting Odysseus (DESPITE killing his men, teaching his lesson, and even likely knowing about the brutal siren deaths) is because “the top dog can’t be seen letting his prey go. How else can I send the message that I’m a big dog? It’ll ruin my reputation!” He’s a cocky bastard, playing with his prey, telling Odysseus to get in the water because it’s more entertaining to him than just getting his revenge and killing him then and there. He talks like he’s never felt pain in his life and doesn’t think he ever will because “the top dog is untouchable”.
But he forgets that he needs his domain, needs his range to keep himself from losing. When Odysseus pulls the same trick with the wind bag (which he should’ve seen coming), he isn’t ready, because he’s never had to fight that fight. Odysseus has, and he has the anger to push himself farther. The god gets downed (which has happened many times with many gods as discussed earlier), and he still acts cocky. Odysseus opened the bag. He can’t leave. But that knowledge—knowledge that he’s stuck here and will eventually die anyway—allows Odysseus to make his decision. He can hurt Poseidon for as long as he’s capable of, make him suffer just as much because, hey, he’s going to die anyway, right?
Now, Poseidon has an out. He can get rid of the storm before Odysseus even lays a hand on him, let him go home, and flood Ithaca like planned. But he doesn’t, because he’s so in his own head that he doesn’t realize the position he’s in. And then Odysseus makes the first stab, and then the other. It hurts, even more because, like I said, Poseidon has probably never felt this pain before. And Odysseus doesn’t plan on stopping, not until Poseidon calls off the storm. He’ll go until his arms stop working, and if Poseidon hadn’t given in, he probably would’ve.
Poseidon can’t stop him either because the wounds are made before the others can heal. Does this punishment seem familiar? It should, because it’s the exact same one given to Prometheus by Zeus. Truthfully, it’s a punishment made for a god.
I should probably stop here because this has gone on way too long, but I do understand why some people might think it’s weird. We’re raised to believe that any god is untouchable, that they’re all-powerful and incapable of harm, especially at human hands. But that’s not Greek mythology. Gods aren’t capable of death, but they are capable of suffering, and a lot of them do. Just because the one suffering this time is one of the “big three” doesn’t mean it’s unrealistic.
Epic’s message isn’t the same as the original, and it never has been. It’s about what you’re willing to sacrifice, how far you’re willing to go for your own gain, and what the repercussions are when you do. Poseidon really kick started that message hard, and I think it’s poetic that it ends with him facing the outcome of that message himself.
Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, but it’s not the same being on the receiving end, is it?
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njk-mr · 14 days ago
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HIMMMMMMMMM
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wintergrofyuri · 4 months ago
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"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP
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shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.
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namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.
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ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.
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marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.
Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.
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marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.
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chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.
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and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!
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im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.
if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.
take this
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thanks
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dunmesh · 5 months ago
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okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.
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and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.
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i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?
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and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.
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and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.
so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?
but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.
it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.
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euthymiya · 6 months ago
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“i wanna ruin our friendship!” ft. wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, and kamisato ayato
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in which genshin men decide being friends is not enough. why be friends when you could clearly be so much better as lovers? part two of “we’re just friends, but…” (<- read part one for better understanding of each)
contains: female reader (use of miss, milady/my lady, lovely lady, and madame) ; fluff (slight hints of angst but all happy endings) ; confessions, friends to lovers, wriothesley: implied harassment of reader by an inmate, reader is a doctor at the fortress, angry and possessive wriothesley, jealousy ; neuvillette: reader works at the palais, melusine features, neuvillette is implied to be emotional and make it rain ; alhaitham: mentions of drinking alcohol (alhaitham), vulnerable alhaitham, reader can cook ; ayato: slightly insecure reader, mentions of reader being in a lower class than ayato
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WRIOTHESLEY
wriothesley is not a possessive man, despite his feelings for you.
he’s long accepted that somewhere between frequent visits to you in the infirmary and occasional lunches together as fellow colleagues at the fortress, he’s fallen hopelessly hard for you. how could he not, when you’re so gentle-natured, smart, and unfairly pretty?
but still, wriothesley is not a possessive man. when men praise you to the archons and admire your unearthly beautiful smile, he is not possessive. when he grumpily watches your fingers brush against bare chests of the wounded after pankration matches, he is not possessive. when you shyly thank an inmate who rushes to hold a door open for you, he is not possessive.
but even wriothesley has his limits. and they happen to snap over the edge today—because now, as a man corners you against the wall, pestering you until distress is clear on your face, wriothesley feels possessive.
it’s a shameful feeling, but it’s one he can’t help. he’s tolerated many things, enough of them that make him wash down the bitter taste of jealousy with the most soothing tea he can find in his collection. but this? this is beyond the patience of even a kind warden such as himself.
you, whether you or anyone else in this fortress knows it, are his to protect.
so he walks up, fisting the inmate’s shirt and lifting him up to drag away from you, jaw tight and locked as he asks lowly, “is there a problem? if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were giving this lovely lady here some trouble.”
“y-your grace,” the man, to his credit, has a good mind to look remorseful, eyeing you nervously for a moment before rapidly shaking his head. “n-no, i was just…i was just askin’ her if she’d like some help findin’ her way is all. you know the fortress can be confusin’ ’n such.”
the inmate trails off, nervously chuckling as he quivers in the warden’s unforgiving hold.
wriothesley glances at you, raising an unconvinced eyebrow as he asks, “and do you need any help finding your way, miss?”
“no,” you shake your head, voice a bare whisper.
his jaw tightens further, glancing back at the man before he snarls lowly, “then you leave her alone. don’t let me catch you bothering her again, understood?”
“y-yes, your grace!”
wriothesley releases the man’s shirt, crumpled from his iron grip as he stares, eyes narrowed—threatening, even, as he waits for the brave soul (for anyone who bothers you where he’s in charge is the bravest of all souls) to leave. not one moment is wasted before you watch the inmate scramble away, leaving you alone with a tense, disgruntled duke in your hands.
“thank you,” you whisper, “i’m not sure how much longer he’d have bothered me if you hadn’t shown up.”
“anyone else ever try that before?” he seethes. you’ve never seen him so angry before—something about it feels almost personal.
you shake your head, stepping away from the wall as you walk over to him. “no, wriothesley,” you murmur, “no one gives me a hard time. this was a first.”
“let me know if anyone bothers you,” he grunts, fist still clenched even with no shirt to hold like earlier. “i’ll take care of it.”
you eye the way it’s tightly curled, knuckles almost ghostly white from the pressure before you gently grab his hand, working his fingers loose from his tight grip and rubbing a soothing thumb over the crescent mark from his nails along his palm.
“of course,” you smile softly, “though, i’m sure word will spread quickly that the warden doesn’t appreciate his doctor being bothered by persistent men. i don’t think there will be any repeats of this incident.”
he should feel ashamed.
you think so highly of him—defaulting to believing he’d saved you because he was only worried for your wellbeing, and not because it burned him alive to see a man so close to you, a man who desired you just as much as he did and had stooped to such unchivalrous methods to have you.
faintly, he’s aware that your hand is still grasping his, still rubbing a thumb over the angry, red marks along his palm as you study him carefully. he’s sure there’s not much he hides in his expression—you must be reading him like an open book. he can’t bring himself to care, however, not when the sight of someone else pinning you to a wall and towering over you is still so fresh in his head.
“something on your mind, your grace?” you ask, leaning closer.
perhaps, if he was a stronger man, one with more firm principles, he’d know to pull away and give you your space. but you lean closer, and he’s weak to his own desires, so he takes it as an invitation to lean closer himself.
“yes,” he admits, “i…i’m afraid i had less than honorable intentions when stepping in.”
“oh?” you raise a brow, looking at him in fond amusement. maybe you already know, he thinks, if your lack of surprise tells him anything. “enlighten me, then. what were your intentions?”
“to make sure no man comes close to you,” he mumbles, leaning closer while you do the same, your noses just barely brushing as your breath all but mingles.
“why?” you ask. it almost sounds like a plead—like you’re waiting to hear something desperately.
“because it’s unbearable to see you with other men,” he says hoarsely. if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it. but he has reason to believe you’re quite the opposite, in fact, when your eyes seem to brighten.
“and if i were to say i appreciate your intentions?” you ask softly.
finally, his jaw loosens—instead, he replaces the clench with a loose, easy grin, one that allows him to chuckle lowly as he stares at you with a playful disbelief.
“that so?” he hums, “perhaps then you’d care to join me for dinner today, milady—i’ll have the finest meal the cafeteria has to offer waiting for you.”
“on a date?” you ask hopefully.
“on a date,” he confirms with a slight nod.
you kiss his cheek, making his breath catch in his throat as you step away and smile gleefully. “i’ll see you at dinner then, your grace.”
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NEUVILLETTE
the first day you skip your newfound routine of tea and desserts with neuvillette and the many, many melusines that join, it rains. harshly so, in fact.
you walk up to the palais, soaked from the unexpected weather as you grin sheepishly at a concerned sedene.
“madame!” she gasps, “oh, you’ve been caught in the weather!”
“it’s alright, sedene,” you chuckle, “it’s nothing new in fontaine to have unexpected rain. i suppose i should’ve planned accordingly. is monsieur neuvillette in his office? i have papers for him,” you hold up a file.
sedene fidgets for a moment, hesitant as she says, “yes…he’s in his office but…well, i should warn you that he’s not in the best of moods.”
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, “how unfortunate. i’ll make it quick. they’re quite urgent papers.”
she nods at your promise—and just before you can turn to leave, she stops you, seemingly debating before making a final comment.
“you didn’t join us today, madame,” she starts, “for tea today during the monsieur’s break.”
“oh,” you tilt your head in surprise for a moment, “you’re right, i didn’t. i apologize if you were waiting on me. i was caught up with much paperwork to finish before i came in.”
“i see. perhaps monsieur neuvillette will appreciate knowing that, then,” she smiles.
before you can ask, she skips away, finding a group of melusines in the corner. you watch as they whisper away behind their paws, blinking back your confusion before walking towards the door of neuvillette’s office, knocking gently.
“monsieur neuvillette? may i come in? i have some papers that must be delivered to you.”
there’s a shuffle from inside, a clearing of the iudex’s throat before a raspy, “yes, of course. come in.”
you enter, walking in slowly as you close the distance between the door and his desk, smiling as you set the file down in your hands. he looks rather…well, you’re not sure, exactly—perhaps the best word would be melancholy. suddenly, sedene’s words from earlier ring in your head, and you wonder if there’s any relation between your absence and his seemingly downcast mood.
so you give him an apologetic look as you speak. “i apologize if my absence was a surprise to you today. it seems i lost track of time with paperwork. i hope you enjoyed a peaceful break with the melusines,” you hum, “you certainly need a proper break with all the duties you take on.”
against your better judgement, you reach over, brushing a strand of misplaced hair from his forehead and tucking it back in place. rarely does the chief justice of fontaine ever look less than prim and proper, if ever at all—and the action causes you to pause just as much as it does him.
he breaks the silence first, and if he notices the slight flustered expression on your face, he doesn’t point it out as he says gently, “it’s quite alright. i’m sure you’re a busy individual.”
“i do quite enjoy my routine visit,” you say shyly, “it was a shame i couldn’t join today. but rest assured, i’ll be present tomorrow.”
“i’m glad to hear it,” he seems to brighten a bit, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he admits in a quieter voice, “truthfully, i had assumed you didn’t want to join me—or excuse me, us,” he coughs, correcting himself at the end.
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, crinkles forming in your forehead as you quickly shake your head, “of course i love joining you. today was a rare occasion, i’m afraid. i hope i didn’t upset you, monsieur.”
“no,” he shakes his head just as quickly. he coughs, clearing his throat as he adds, “it’s just that i…well, i have come to enjoy your company. a little more than i perhaps should.”
he doesn’t meet your gaze, cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink as you take in his words. silently after a moment, with a bright grin on your face that spreads across your lips and finds itself in the deepest of crinkles in your eyes, you slowly reach over to cup his face.
neuvillette, no matter how trained in self control, cannot help but lean into your touch, staring at you with wide eyes as you rub a delicate circle into the swell of his cheek.
“i’ve come to enjoy your company as well, monsieur. perhaps…perhaps it would be nice to enjoy each other’s company outside of the palais as well,” you offer. and then, eyeing the small opening in the door, you add, “somewhere away from prying eyes.”
neuvillette watches as the door quickly shuts, the soft giggles of the melusines muffled behind the door as he chuckles in amusement. his hand cups the back of your own, cheek laying comfortably in your palm.
“yes,” he murmurs softly, “i think i would love that.”
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ALHAITHAM
alhaitham is not drunk today.
you can tell when you open the door because he’s not swaying, or slurring his words, or staring at you with a hazy look. instead, he’s perfectly sober, perfectly rational, and perfectly collected alhaitham.
you look at him in surprise before smiling in greeting.
“you’re not drunk for once,” you murmur, “i don’t think i ever get a visit from you when you’re not drunk.”
the words make him wince a bit—he doesn’t like the implication of that. alhaitham enjoys your company when he’s not inebriated, especially when he’s not inebriated, in fact. mainly because he can actually recall things that way, like the way you laugh and the crinkle of your eyes. but somehow, being drunk has become a bit of a weekly routine for him at the tavern with his friends (which really, is just cyno and tighnari, and of course, kaveh—but kaveh can hardly be considered a friend these days).
coming to your doorstep every week when he’s drunk becomes a byproduct of his habits. he can’t control them, like an involuntary muscle that moves on its own accord without his permission. just like his heart beats and pumps blood, his feet carry him to find you.
it’s natural, autonomic.
“i didn’t want to drink tonight,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. alhaitham is blunt—speaking his mind is not a complicated task. he’s sure of his thoughts and opinions, and the response people give them is of little concern to him.
but his thoughts aren’t very coherent when they come to you. he’s not sure of even a single thing, in fact. sure, he knows he likes you—really, really likes you. but sometimes, he contemplates if he’s fallen in love with you. he can’t tell, if he’s being honest, because he’s never been in love before. it’s uncharted waters for even someone as knowledgeable as him.
and then there’s the more difficult part. he’s not sure if you feel the same, or if you’d respond positively to the idea of his developed feelings. logic tells him you’re kind, compassionate, deeply understanding. perhaps you’d let him down gently and still consider him a good friend if you don’t feel the same. but for some reason, there’s an illogical part of him. one he doesn’t recognize. one that tells him that you might walk away and never look twice in his direction again as soon as you realize the nature of his feelings.
logic doesn’t win in his mind for once. it hasn’t for a very long time. it’s why he doesn’t tell you for so long how he feels.but tonight he plans to change that.
regardless of your feelings, requited or unrequited, alhaitham will tell you how he feels. he owes you that much, for all the careful care and deduction you put into handling his drunk self. for all the meals you made and let him eat before letting him crash on your couch. for all the cups of coffee you made his hungover self as you carefully tiptoed around your own home so the noise wouldn’t disturb his pounding head.
he clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at his feet.
“do you want to come in?” you offer.
he shakes his head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. i came…i came to say something.”
“i see,” you nod, “then by all means, share what you have to say.”
it’s not so easy. not when he tries to plan the words in his head as he walks to your home, and not when he’s standing before you. alhaitham is a linguist. he speaks over twenty languages, some of which are known to be romantic by nature. he’s read the divinest of poems and decoded the most complicated of hieroglyphics. he, of all people, should excel in putting words together.
but his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth as he stares at you, though. distantly, he’s aware he must look stupid. standing here, silent and stiff as you stand by your door and wait for him to spit out what he has to say.
so he says the first thing he can think—and it makes his face burn as soon as he realizes what he says. “your sabz meat stew is my favorite.”
you grin, chuckling in amusement as you murmur, “oh my, i’m flattered. you came all this way to praise my cooking?”
“n-no,” he sighs in embarrassment, “that…that’s not what i meant.”
you hum, smiling at him softly as you patiently wait for him to speak again. a part of him feels like you’re aware of something, something that maybe even he’s not aware of himself. but he doesn’t want to dwell on that—perhaps your knowledge is a product of his drunken rambles, and he’s not sure he wants to even begin imagining what that might look like. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
“well, if you must know,” you giggle, “i enjoy making your favorite for you.”
“i enjoy your stew,” he mumbles, concentrating for a moment before his face hardens with determination and he looks at you, “i enjoy waking up on your couch, and drinking your coffee, and the way you hum when you get ready for the day. it’s enjoyable because it’s you.”
you process his words for a moment before smile slowly, eyeing him with wonder as you break into a fit of giggles. he doesn’t have time to dwell on whether or not you’re laughing at him because there’s an arm looping around his bicep, pulling him in past your door and pressing him against it as soon as it’s shut.
you’re close—it’s the first thing he notices, chest brushed against his chest as you look up at him with a fond, affectionate expression.
“you’re a smart man, alhaitham,” you murmur, “i’m sure you can figure out why i make your favorite every time you come. and make your coffee just how you like. and let you sleep in on my couch when i could be spending my morning enjoying the sun.”
he wants to tell you that he doesn’t feel very smart when he’s around you. it’s like logic is a foreign concept as soon as your smile invades his line of sight. but words are difficult enough to produce when you’re so close, he doesn’t think he could tell you even if he tried.
instead, he asks, “because you’re kind?”
“not kind enough to do groceries for two every weekend,” you chuckle. “unless…”
“unless…?” he asks breathlessly.
“unless it’s you, silly,” you snort. “do fill in the lines, will you?”
he allows himself to hope. because it doesn’t take logic to let himself hope you feel the same way he does.
“if…” he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate before boldly settling his hands on your hips, “if i come here next week sober, would you still open the door for me?”
“of course,” you whisper.
“if i came whenever i wanted, would you still open the door for me?” he asks, eyes peering into yours desperately, begging you to tell him what he wants to hear.
you sigh, gently cupping his cheeks as he closes his eyes and shudders. “always,” you breathe, “will you come?”
“yes,” he nods. his shoulders slump—in relief and in pure bliss as he lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your warm skin as you cradle the back of his head. “because i enjoy coming home to you.”
“and i enjoy welcoming you home,” you murmur.
and it’s at the same time that you kiss the side of his head and he kisses the soft skin of your neck, a stumbling mess of limbs pressed against one another as you both find your way to collapse on your familiar couch.
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KAMISATO AYATO
it’s midnight when there’s a knock on your door. it’s rushed, an incessant tapping against the surface that almost has you concerned, but the familiar face through the peephole eases your worries.
and then it hits you—ayato is here. beyond the question of how he has the time to visit you so unexpectedly, there’s the concern of what people might think if he’s seen here so late, standing outside your door.
“ayato? why are you here?” you look at him in confusion as you open the door, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles at you.
“well, hello. such an enthusiastic greeting you’ve afforded me,” he says playfully, making you roll your eyes. “won’t you even invite me in?”
“well, come on then,” you huff, “it’s always something or another with you.”
“whatever do you mean?” he gasps, a hand pressing to his chest in mock hurt, “i’ve simply come to have a heartfelt conversation.”
“at this hour?” you cross your arms, scoffing at his timing. still, you could never turn him away.
it’s not of any trouble to you—ayato knows it too. but there’s something oddly vulnerable about having him in your home, and unexpectedly at that. suddenly, everything feels out of place and untidy to you, a contrast to the large, sophisticated estate you’re sure he must be used to. you shift on your feet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of someone as important as the yashiro commissioner, standing in your small home where you have nowhere to hide.
“ah,” he nods in amusement, “how impolite of me. shall i take my departure, then?”
“i could hardly turn the yashiro commissioner away without allowing him to speak,” you shake your head, fighting back a smile as he grins. “pray tell, what could have prompted such a spontaneous visit?”
“i’d like to ask for your hand,” he says bluntly.
you blink, gaping at him in disbelief. ayato has never been cruel—in fact, he’s always been much the opposite. especially to you. he’s become painfully important, a friendship you’ve never expected but cannot fathom existing without now that you have him.
but something about this feels cruel, like he’s aware of the deeper feelings you’ve accidentally let surface in the process, feelings you try to push back desperately. how could the yashiro commissioner be seen with someone so far from his realm? someone so disconnected from his world and status?
you furrow your brows, looking at him unimpressed as you murmur, “that’s hardly funny, ayato. be serious.”
“i am serious,” he tilts his head, “i, kamisato ayato, would like to ask for your hand, milady. if you would be so kind, that is.”
his hand is offered to you—and something in your aches to reach for it. to feel his fingers intertwined with yours, to feel the rough calluses of his hands from years of swordsmanship, to feel the gentle warmth of his palm pressed up against yours.
“i-in marriage?” you ask in utter confusion.
he chuckles, hand still outstretched as he raises an eyebrow. “well, i figured marriage would be a bit sudden, but far be it from me to deny such an enthusiastic idea.”
you’re not sure why (or maybe you are, and you simply hate to admit it), but there’s a burning sting in the back of your eyes. something bubbling between humiliation and hurt and flooding in the form of tears as you stare at him unsure if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s simply joking at your expense.
ayato has never made you feel like a victim of casual cruelty from his end, so a small part of you wonders if he’s truly serious. but the more logical part of you tells you that if not a mere attempt at playfulness, what else could this be?
“this isn’t funny,” you whisper, voice small. “i hardly find such pranks entertaining, ayato. i thought you to be better than that.”
it’s silent. deafeningly so, in fact.
his hand drops—slowly, hesitant as he eyes you in uncertainty. he takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough to notice every small detail of your face, but leaving enough of a gap so as not to overstep.
“i hardly find any entertainment in offering myself up, either,” he murmurs, “do reject me gently if you intend to. i’m afraid my age is catching up to me—i have a weak heart.”
“you’re hardly old,” you snort, watching him suppress a smile as he studies you. “you’re really being serious?”
“do you doubt me?”
“i suppose not,” you whisper. his hand extends to you again, something hopeful in his eyes, something almost desperate as he stares at you and waits for you to finally take it in your grasp.
your hand slowly finds his, fingertips grazing those calluses you’ve noticed for so long, rough and firm under the delicateness of your touch. finally, it hits you he came without gloves on, and you realize it must be for the chance of feeling your skin against his, bare touch with no fabric to separate either of you.
you feel him, taking in the years and years of training that show through such toughened skin, and he watches you carefully as you trace along his palm before flattening your own against him, slowly lacing your fingers together.
“i have found the man who attacked you,” he says quietly, “and i’m ashamed to admit the…unsavory methods i was prepared to take to punish his crimes.”
“i hope you wouldn’t stoop to such levels for me,” you say quietly.
“i fear there isn’t much i wouldn’t resort to for your safety,” he admits.
“i’m hardly worth such trouble,” you shake your head, smiling softly as you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the mole you’ve always ached to feel. whether from the brush of your lips or from the graze of your thumb, you’ve always wondered how it’d feel. “there are much more worthy women to be the object of your affections, my lord.”
“ayato,” he corrects. it sounds like a plead, if you listen carefully. “and not to me,” he shakes his head. “it’s you i desire. i’m afraid i cannot concentrate on my duties until i have you. the nation shall befall a most unfortunate fate if i must suffer a single night more without having you.”
“i’m starting to think i am the only hope inazuma has left,” you roll your eyes, staring at him in wonder, “it seems it has fallen to me to ensure we have a functioning yashiro commissioner.”
“i do hope you’ll take such responsibilities seriously.” his hand lays over your own, keeping your touch in place as he leans his face into your palm further, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.
“oh, ayato,” you chuckle breathlessly, eyes watery as you step closer, closing the gap until your chest presses against his. you wonder if he can hear the rapid thrumming of your heart, if he can feel it. “you’ll be the death of me.”
“i should hope not,” he chuckles, leaning closer and closer until his lips hover over yours, just a millimeter away from brushing against them, “i fear for my own sanity should such an ill fate come before you.”
“oh kiss me, you fool,” you scoff tiredly at his antics.
he doesn’t waste a moment, pressing his lips hungrily against yours, hands wandering to your waist and instantly pulling you closer, fitting his palm to cradle the small of your back. he chases your lips frantically when you pull away, a low grunt of disapproval rumbling from his chest before he plants his lips against yours once more. he kisses you like he’s crossed oceans upon oceans to find you, fixed on keeping you not more than a fingertips distance away at all times so that he’ll never lose you again.
and finally—finally, once he’s decided he’s sufficiently stolen the air from your lungs, he allows you to pull back and breathe.
“i’m afraid i can be a rather overbearing lover,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking them lightly. “you’ll hardly be free of me should i desire your company.”
you chuckle, leaning to kiss his mole softly, cradling his face. “i believe i’ll find a way to cope,” you grin.
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ayato was fun to write last time, and he was just as fun to write this time and i am realizing i have some real hidden feelings for the man the more i write him. i really enjoy doing his dialogue, though i’m not sure if i do it justice. i sure hope i do 🥹
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months ago
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sore and satisfied
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words: 1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dubcon!!, mentions of baby trapping, kinda pregnancy kink? its more of a control thing, dom!rafe, kinda fluffy at the end??, manipulation, bruises
“no.” you whine, feeling rafes rough hands cup your cheeks as he raises your face up to meet his. “im still sore from last time.”
“but you felt so good, right?” rafe questions, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath hot against you, making your mouth drop open, expecting the fierce kiss.
“yes…” it did feel good, even through the rough pounding and spankings and rafe gripping you so tightly you still have bruises.
“and ill be much gentler this time, baby.” rafe finally gives you a kiss, and it's like he's trying to convince you of his ability to stay gentle as his lips glide over yours.
“promise?” you whimper, hands gripping onto rafes shirt as you already start to go weak in the knees.
“of course baby.” rafe grins down at you, and you should have known what that grin meant, but you let him take you upstairs anyways.
his hands are gentle at first, undressing you carefully and praising you, celebrating every inch of your body that gets revealed.
“such a pretty pussy.” rafe says, cocking his head to the side as he looks between your thighs. “already looks ready for me to fuck.”
“need a little-” you're about to ask for something, for rafe to use his mouth again or rub you with his fingers, anything to open you up more, when rafe stands suddenly.
hes stripped naked before you can even blink, cock hard and jutting from his muscled body.
“i thought you said-”
“i haven't been rough yet, have i?” rafe will fight you to get inside your cunt if he has to, but he prefers you be pliable enough for him until he begins fucking you.
“n-no.” you admit, spreading your legs a little wider. sure, you'd prefer to be a little wetter, but if rafe is taking things slowly and gently you should have enough time to open up.
“exactly.” rafe says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “im gonna fuck you now and i don't want to hear you complaining.”
that's when you know you're really in trouble. rafes nice streak is done as he lays himself over your body, not bothering to hold himself up and dropping his full weight onto you.
“rafe!” you squeal out as his cock pushes against your entrance, hesitating for just a beat before he's pushing into you.
to rafes credit, he holds back somewhat. waits just a moment before he begins his punishing strokes, so hard and fast your head is instantly spinning.
rafes hands grip the same bruises on your hips, deepening them again, turning them into darker spots for everyone to see next time you don a swimsuit.
“mine.” rafe growls out, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips that's all teeth and tongue. 
you let out a cry when he bites your bottom lip and gives it a tug, but the rush goes straight to your traitorous pussy.
you can feel your wetness growing as he fucks you, your walls becoming slicker and easier to move against.
“that's it.” rafe praises you. “can feel how much you like this.”
you want rafe to stop teasing you, it's bad enough he's abusing your pussy, he doesn't need to add to it with his words too, but even as your hands come up to cover face, he continues.
“my little slut. bet you can cum from just my cock. won't even have to touch your dirty clit to have you gushing around me.”
you know he's right. you can feel your orgasm building despite wanting to beg rafe to slow down, feeling the near painful stretch inside of you and the soreness growing exponentially as he fucks your already hurt pussy.
“soon you're gonna always be ready for me. ill rip your panties off and you'll already be soaked. and the best part is-” rafe is grunting as he talks, his fantasy expanding as his cock pummels you. “you won't even mean to. it'll be your bodies response to my body. trying to protect itself, make it easier, cause less pain.”
“and it will be better for both of us then. you just need to adjust to this, baby.” rafes voice moves to an almost sweet tone, so close to comforting if it wasn't for the fact that he's taking you raw as he talks. “then ill be able to fuck you so easily. and as often as i want without having to worry about your little pussy hurting.”
“okay.” you whisper. you're not sure if you can form any more words, but it's satisfactory enough for rafe as he presses a kiss to your lips.
“gonna cum inside you real soon. gonna fill you up. think you can get pregnant for me baby? swell that little tummy up?”
“rafe.” you pout, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “stop teasing.”
“aw come on, we both know you're on birth control.” rafe rolls his eyes, but it doesn't stop him from imagining claiming you, showing the world proof of your fucking, proof that you're his and only his.
“but one day ill get you off of it. if i can't convince you maybe ill just have to switch your pills out for placebos. you won't even know until your tummy starts to swell.”
“rafe!” your tone is harsh, and it doesn't go unpunished as rafes thrusts reach even deeper, so far inside of you that you're squirming to get away only for rafe to hold you down into the bed, the mattress squishing under your combined weight.
“gonna cum right into your cervix since you're being a brat.” you can feel when rafe presses against it, your eyes widening as your high suddenly breaks, wetness gushing around rafes cock just like he knew would happen.
your pussy clamps down on rafes cock, keeping him sucked in as he starts to cum, long spurts releasing into your cunt as rafes moans and curses fill the room, echoed with your quieter whines and gasps.
“how's your pussy feel now baby?” rafe asks.
“sore.” you pout, which rafe quickly kisses off your face as he pulls out.
“fine, won't fuck you anymore then since you always complain about it hurting.” rafe shrugs, feigning like he's getting out of bed when you grab his hand and pull him back to your side.
“no!” you say quickly before taking a breath and settling in next to rafe. “no, i never said that.”
“exactly.” rafe puts his arms around you, tugging you into his chest, keeping you close to him, right where he wants you always.
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rowarn · 1 year ago
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everyone stop what you're doing i just had an idea of simon who likes to edge himself.....omg....
afab!reader, no prns, edging obvi, ruined orgasm, simon being selfish <3 not edited oof
when he's fucking you, hips pumping in a rhythm that basically melts your brain. he's got you pinned beneath him in a press, legs spread obscenely wide so your knees are against the bed. he's got you stuck there under his massive weight. you can't do anything but stare up at him with wide eyes as he fucks you.
he looks so good above you, muscles flexing with every movement and his dark eyes lidded with pleasure that he's getting from working his fat cock into your dripping little cunt.
"fuck, that's good," he groans, blunt nails biting into the tender skin under your thighs, "feels so fuckin' good 'round me, love."
you clench around him at the sound of his voice and the corner of his lips twitches up at the blatant, shameless reaction you have to him. he brings one hand up to his mouth, meeting your eyes in a heated stare as he licks the pad of his thumb, quickly bringing it down to press against your swollen clit -- twitchy and sensitive from neglect since he'd just settled for fucking you so far.
"you gettin' close?" he practically coos, making you whimper. the sound goes straight to his cock and god, he loves the sounds you make, "yeah, i know, pretty thing...i treat you real good, don't i?"
you're tightening up around him and he practically feels the breath punch out of his lungs. you're getting close; he's learned all your tells by now. the way your back arches and your mouth open as you whimper his name. you get wetter and wetter, gooey cunt making a nice little mess for him to fuck into. it makes lewd, squelching noises as he sinks balls deep with a slow roll of his hips.
"s-so close, simon!" you cry out, blindly reaching your hands down to press against his hips.
you always do that -- it's adorable. you actually think that'll stop him from sinking deep, deep inside. his cock knocks against your back well, the little pang of pain making your body twitch. usually, he bats your hands away just to be mean and watch you whine. you really think your trembling hands would be enough to stop the powerful movements of his hips.
he's close to his own end. his cock throbs the closer he gets with every deep thrust he gives you. both of you racing to your ends -- it would be so sweet to cum together, he thinks.
but he knows that's not going to happen.
it's his favorite thing to do. he just can't explain what it is he loves about it.
just when his orgasm starts to crest he pulls his cock free from the hot clutch of your cunt. he feels a little bad, he knows you had just fallen over the edge as he did -- leaving you nothing to cum around, little pussy clenching and cumming all empty and no pleasure from it. a sob tears free from your chest and the sound goes straight to his cock. you squirm under his weight as he watches his own cock twitch against your drooling cunt from his own denial, willing himself not to cum untouched at the sight of you cryin' for him. he closes his eyes and waits for his orgasm to wane before he looks at you again.
"simon..." you practically wail in despair, drawing his gaze up to your face. and fuck, you're so sweet for him.
your eyes are teary and he clicks his tongue, "sorry, love...that was mean of me, huh?"
you nod your head, pouting up at him. despite the ruined orgasm, you're still sensitive enough to twitch beneath him when he sinks his cock back into you with a swift grind of his hips.
"let me make it up to you, yeah?"
your sweet, trusting eyes makes his heart melt and he almost feels bad. almost.
because he knows for the rest of the night, he's going to be edging himself using your pretty little pussy until he finally decides he's ready to cum. and he's not going to care if you actually properly cum or not, because this is gonna be about him using you.
by the end of the night, his cocks so hard that it fucking hurts. he'd edged himself more times than he could count, the more he did the less time he got in between. he started simply dipping his length into you and pulling it right back out, eyes rolling at the sticky strings that connected the head to your clenching hole.
"please, simon...please, please, please..." you're breathlessly begging. he has no clue if you'd even properly cum the entire night, he had practically entered a trance and become a mindless beast thinking only with his cock. theres tears on your cheeks, dried and new and the sight is so lovely that he wants to take a picture and keep it on him at all times.
he finally takes mercy, however. your pretty little clit is so swollen and he just has to press his fingers against it. it's so sensitive that you almost immediately start cumming -- this time around his cock, he makes sure of it.
you pull him over the edge with you, letting him dump a nice, hot load into your pussy while you cum nice and hard around him.
when you sag into the bed and sniffle, cutely reaching out for a hug, he can't help but press a kiss against your forehead <3
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ilygetou · 1 year ago
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zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it
i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა
cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/
note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!
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zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.
And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.
When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.
The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.
Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.
Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.
Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.
Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.
That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.
You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.
Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.
Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.
His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”
Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.
His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.
Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.
Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.
You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.
“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.
When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.
You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.
You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.
You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.
“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.
With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.
You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.
And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.
He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.
Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f���me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.
His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.
Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.
“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.
Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.
And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.
And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.
You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.
Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.
Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.
And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.
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screampied · 8 months ago
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gojo had a dream you died.
it was partially the reason why he woke up in a cold sweat… it was horrid.
he could still hear your screams, the life leaving your eyes, but more importantly, he remembered your final words that were murmured to him. “satoru, don’t… cry, i’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” and he believed you, that everything would be okay. despite tears filling his eyes, labeled the strongest at that moment, he couldn’t have ever felt so weak.
the dream felt so real, that was the scary part. he remembered each and every detail. from the feeling of you giving his wrist a light squeeze, the sweet smell of your natural scent.. the eerie sounds of your irregular wheezes as you were clinging on your final moments.
“don’t leave me,” he mutters, he remembers saying that. three simple words, yet his dilated pupils spoke a thousand. he started to repeat it. again and again as if it was a mantra. his words, his tone broke the more he spoke to you. that cute smile of yours never left your lips, it remained there. regardless of your inevitable incoming fate, he sobs, “you’re…you’re all i have left. i don’t wanna be left alone again, just stay. please, baby.”
“i’m not going anywhere, ‘toru,” you’d reassure him, a single tear drop of his falls onto your cheek.
after that moment, gojo wakes up. trembling, yet the dream wasn’t that feared him the most. it was him waking up with you not next to him..
cold, everything felt cold.
he shot up immediately from his dream. the cold sweat that forever continued to race down his back as he panted.
he was so used to your warmth taking up part of the bed. albeit, in this case though. it felt empty,
isolated.
it was near the middle of the night, gojo was drowsy, rubbing his eyes to blind his vision with imaginary stars. feeling for the bed, it was frigid.
“baby?” he’d grumble, white lashes partially open. silence called back to him, if it was anything about gojo, he hated being alone.
oh, he loathed it,
yet whenever you came into his life—he didn’t have to worry about that. you were always besides him, no matter what.
until now.
it takes him a split second before it dawns on him. your fatal death, it wasn’t another one of his silly surreal dreams. it was nothing but mere reality.
a breath gets caught in his throat once he realizes, being brought back into harsh realness. you were gone.
it’s been years, speaking of which…
it was your anniversary with him. the same exact day he proposed to you. he remembers it vividly, getting down on one knee with the goofiest grin. he didn’t even say, “will you marry me..?” instead, he snorts a sheepish, “let’s get married, heh.”
“i always forget around this time,” gojo sighs to himself with a soft tone, his voice was a bit raspy from abruptly waking up. intaking a sharp inhale, he goes towards your side of the bed and he reaches into his pocket.
“it should have been me,” and he doesn’t even care he’s talking to himself, it’s like for whatever reason, your presence was near him. “our marriage,” and then with a brief sniffle, he glances down at the ring you once wore proudly. he strokes it with a thumb before huffing out a shaky, “our marriage, it was supposed to last us for infinity…”
but it didn’t.
with hot tears streaming down his face and stuck a power he wished he’d never have, in the end, it couldn’t save you.
he couldn’t save you.
and now…
the strongest, the most brave to ever live and walk could easily be mistaken as the weakest.
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yanderenightmare · 9 months ago
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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing
fem reader
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Think about being a bleating little bunny hunted down by two big bad wolves…
Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.
You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.
But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.
They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.
You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.
You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as one of them laps at your clit with a bearded chin tickling your puffy pussy-lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while slurping your hole. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.
Your other predator bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in his wake. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty paws – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take his fat knot.
He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his meat and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his happy trail while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you in two.
Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin. 
Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a good butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.
He lets you suck his balls as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – gripping one of your lop ears, he holds it tightly by the base – thinking there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by nuzzling his sack so sweetly. 
Your pussy is left alone after it’s made swollen by a handful of orgasms, but not before the abuser slaps his handiwork with a grin. He wipes his chin off your slick, then grabs your other free ear – messaging the softness as he pulls your mouth off the other’s sack and onto his cock – fucking the pocket of your cheek while you sob from their rough handlings – fearing they might just tear your poor ears off.
They both stand above you as you kneel for them by their feet, lolling your teary lips against their heavy balls – groaning as you give them all sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they fight for space in your tiny mouth – telling you to beg for the cum stored inside while you slide you pink little tongue over them until they drip with your drool. Then, making your lip and mouth the spine of their shafts, sliding both fat manhoods between your plump lips until making you take one head at a time, licking the slit clean of slaty precum.
But more than childsplay with their cocks on your cute face, they like propping your other two holes – make you moan and cream on them – entirely obsessed with fucking you full of the two of them – pushing in so deep, they have you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around them.
It feels extra sweet when they fuck you at the same time – feeling the other through the wall separating the holes – timing their thrusts – pushing in until completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with their knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.
Both holes fluttering around their absence – they inspect them to see how good they have your little bunny-holes stretched – grinning at the sight of both entrances gaping for them as though they can’t wait to be taken by their big dicks – both chuckling deeply when seeing how much of their cum your tightness pushes out before they fuck it right back inside you again – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your tiny body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups. 
None of it keeps them from emptying the full value of their balls inside you for the umpteenth time – both of them slobbering at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.
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BNHA – EndMight, EndHawks, BakuDeku, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi
JJK – Toji x Shiu, SatoSugu
HQ – Miya twins
DS – DouAka
HxH – HisoIllu
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eiightysixbaby · 4 months ago
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two-player
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker (2.9k)
cw: 18+ only SMUT. mean!eddie, bratty reader (really they’re just stubborn idiots pining for each other), degradation on the low (eddie calls r some names), use of petnames, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, lmk if I forgot any!
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“I can’t fucking stand you,” you hiss, your chest colliding with metal.
You can hear the metallic jangle of Eddie’s belt buckle coming undone, his free hand pressing hard into your back, keeping you bent over the hood of his van.
He’d been driving you up the wall the entire day, your shift at the arcade seeming to never end. You were at each other’s throats the entire time, spitting insults back and forth like children until Keith had told you to shut the fuck up and go home - he'd close up shop himself - and not bother coming back until you could figure your shit out.
You were seething, tension at an all time high between the two of you when you stomped after him out to the dark, empty parking lot. You aren’t quite sure how you got here, you just know it involved Eddie pressing you up against the back wall of the building, his tongue tangling with yours.
A dry chuckle erupts from deep in Eddie’s throat. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m not that fond of you, either.”
You gasp when his hands tug your shorts down, your panties coming with them in one swift, harsh motion. His ring-clad hand comes down to smack your ass, kicking your feet apart with a heavy boot.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it. His hands grope each cheek, spreading them to expose your tight little hole, the slick folds of your drenched pussy.
“Are you gonna keep ogling or actually do something, Munson?” you snark, letting out a startled squawk when he slaps your ass again.
“I’m gonna start by fucking that stupid little attitude right out of you,” he grits, gathering each of your hands and bringing your wrists together behind your back, holding them firmly. “Sound like a plan, sugar?” he asks, bending over your frame so that his mouth is inches from your ear.
You’re about to bite back when he swipes the middle and ring fingers of his free hand through your folds, rubbing back and forth through them.
“It’s real fucking cute,” he says, venomous, “that you wanna talk suuuch a big game, but here you are; getting soaked when I’ve barely even touched you.”
You shiver despite the heat of the night, craning your neck to try and get a better look at him. You try to shoot him daggers, but you’re aware you probably just look pathetic. It doesn't help that the fluorescent glow of the Palace Arcade sign was casting him in the prettiest oranges and blues, making him look ethereal.
He’s right, too. All the teasing, the arguing, the insults have done nothing but get you hot for him. You wanted to see how far you could push him, wanted to see if he’d cross into uncharted territory.
And cross he did.
He teases your entrance, swirling the pad of his finger around the slick hole, your back arching.
“Ed-dieee,” you whine, face going impossibly hot when you hear him laugh at you.
“What?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?”
You burn, jaw setting as he continues to tease you. “You know what,” you reply meekly.
“Do I? Hmm, I’m not sure. Nothing seems to be coming to mind…”
“Please,” you try, not wanting to have to say the words.
“Oh, so now you can be polite? That’s sweet, but I still wanna hear you say it,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”
Your jaw clenches, wanting to tell him off but thinking better of it. He won’t give you anything if you push him too hard. It’s harder than it should be to get the words out of your mouth, feeling petulant in your reluctance to tell him what you need.
“I want…” you say, exhaling sharply. “I want your fingers inside of me.”
“Oh, is that it?” he replies, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on that stupid face of his.
You nod, cheeks inflamed with humiliation. Nevertheless, your core throbs for him, a deep ache that needs to be satiated.
“Eddie…” you whine, so softly, as if you don’t want him to hear it.
But he does. “So needy,” he taunts, fingers continuing to tease your entrance. He draws circles around it, three times before finally giving in.
Two fingers intrude, pushing in to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, jaw hanging slack when his fingers start to curl. The sick squelching sounds he draws from your cunt are enough to make him swear under his breath, a muttered, “Fuck, so wet.”
He knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. His fingers fuck you with a precision you haven’t known before. You’d secretly assumed that he’d be good, but this is mind-blowing.
If his fingers feel this good, you have to know how his cock feels.
In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you’re cumming around his thick digits, cream pooling around his rings.
“That’s it, baby, fuck. Such a god damn whore, cumming so quick,” he bites, but you can hear the condescension wavering in his tone.
You don’t say a word, your brain fuzzy, like the static on a television. Behind you, Eddie’s pulling his cock free from his boxers, and you can hear the rustle of movement when he shoves the clothing down his thighs.
One big hand reaches around to your face, palm open and waiting.
“Spit,” Eddie rasps, and your breath catches in your throat. It takes you a moment too long to compute for his liking. “Did I fucking stutter? Spit.”
You oblige, spitting in his hand, coating it with your saliva. You turn as best you can to watch him stroke his cock with his now slick palm, and a mewl escapes you at the sight of him. His cock is thick and glorious, the tip pink and leaking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting Eddie’s dark eyes.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.
You almost retort with something snarky, but there’s a part of Eddie’s expression that says he really wants your approval. There’s a part of you that simply wants to give him whatever he wants.
“Mhm,” you nod. “It’s so big, Eddie.”
“Fuck,” he hisses.
He steps closer, pressing the head of his cock against your core. You whine, feeling yourself clench around nothing in desperate anticipation to take him. You bite down on your lip when he presses in, teeth sunk hard into the soft skin, fighting back the moan that threatens to break loose. It shouldn't feel this good, he's barely started fucking you, yet your entire body feels like a live wire.
Your hands clench into fists where he holds them behind your back, nails digging into the heels of your palms as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. A sharp whine is punched from your throat against your will, his cock splitting you open wide. His left hand digs into the curve of your hip, bracing himself as he starts to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace.
“Eddie, c'mon,” you say, desperate for him to fuck you fast, hard.
“Hm?” he hums, snapping his hips against your ass in a punctuated thrust.
You curse, letting the side of your face rest on the hood of his van. There's a tantalizing, slow drag of his cock pulling back out, making your body feel like it's on fire. You can feel how wet you are, the slick warmth beginning to drip down your inner thighs. The slight humiliation of the way Eddie has you exposed and vulnerable, the way he has you in the palm of his hand, makes your head spin and your skin burn.
Unable to take his devious pace, you huff in frustration. “Please, Eddie. Stop going so slow.”
His fingers squeeze, mean, into the meat of the junction where your hip meets your ass. “You're just never satisfied, are you?”
“I'm not fucking playing, Eddie. Come on. Are you gonna fuck me good or what?”
His nostrils flare, though you don’t see it. If you want to play this game, fine.
“You’re gonna regret that attitude when you can’t even walk during your shift tomorrow,” he snarls, bending his body over yours so that he’s speaking into your ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”
And you hate it — god, you hate it. The way his words go straight to your cunt, the way your walls squeeze his cock in desperation.
You whine in spite of yourself, cheeks going hot when you hear a triumphant puff of air leave Eddie’s nose.
He lets go of your wrists, a dull ache lingering where his fingers had wrapped around them. Both hands free, he grips each of your hips, holding you steady. He pulls his thick cock almost completely out of your needy pussy, before ramming entirely back in. A sharp moan is forced from your lungs, your hands trying and failing to find good purchase against the smooth surface of his van’s hood. Eddie gives you no time to adjust to his new tempo, falling into a quick pace seamlessly. Hands splayed flat on the metal, you prop yourself up on wobbly arms, your limbs feeling like goo.
Eddie’s a pro, his hips bucking against your ass with each deep stroke, the head of his cock pressing firmly into your sweet spot each time. This definitely isn’t his first time, and as good as it feels, it makes you a little bit jealous to think of some other girl in your position. You want him wrapped around your finger, begging on his knees for you and only you.
“Damn, sweetheart, this pussy was fucking made for me,” Eddie purrs. “Think she's been craving my cock for a while,” he says, squeezing your hips harder, the chunky rings on his fingers pressing almost painfully into the soft skin.
You let out a strangled whine, your legs feeling like they're on fire as he fucks you into oblivion. It's taking everything you have to stay standing, and his vulgar words only make your knees more weak.
“Come on, baby, tell me,” he goes on, his voice dropping an octave, husky and raw. “Tell me how long you've been waiting for this.”
Your teeth tug at your lip, embarrassed to reply. He's got you cornered, completely figured out, but admitting your secret desires for him is giving in to his ego.
He pulls his cock all the way out, the weeping tip nudging at your entrance. You whimper pitifully at the absence of him, and he tuts in disapproval.
“Ah-ah,” he leans in close again, the heat of his body over yours making you feel like molten lava. “You don't get what you want if you don't behave,” he speaks slowly, his hot breath on your ear. He rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, taunting you. “Tell me how long you've wanted me. How many nights you've spent with your fingers inside that poor, tight little cunt, wishing they were mine instead.”
You quiver at his command, your pussy throbbing for him as he continues to tease. You'd wanted him for far too long; moaned his name into the empty stillness of your bedroom on late lonely nights; fantasized about the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands; stared at him any chance you got at work when he wasn't looking. Or at least, you thought he wasn't looking.
You inhale shakily, Eddie's breathing audible behind you.
“I-I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Since I started working here, since before then-” you whine, your voice high-pitched and pleading, begging him to give you what you want now that you've relented.
“Do you think of me?” he coos. “When you touch this pretty pussy?”
“Yes, Eddie. It's always you, always you,” you confess, gasping when he presses the head of his cock inside your aching walls.
“That’s right, baby. No one else could make you feel this good.” He slowly fills you, the sticky glide of his cock as it nestles deep making your brows furrow and your eyes shut tight.
He stills once he’s fully inside again, your breathing shallow as you anticipate his movement. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, surprising you, but in an instant he’s drawn back, standing upright where you can’t reach those plump lips you so badly long to kiss. Without warning he falls into a quick pace, fucking you harder than before, better than before, if at all possible.
“God. Y'know, sweetheart,” he says, breaking the white noise of the night around you. “It drove me fucking crazy how I could never get you out of my head. No matter what I did, couldn't stop thinking about you,” he continues, grunting with the effort of his thrusts. “You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thought of you,” he says, teeth gritted as he presses against your sweet spot. “Sometimes I'd even come out here and do it on my breaks, just couldn't fucking handle being around you. I've been dying to have you, for so long.”
Your jaw goes slack at his words, a silent moan frozen as you process it. All along it hasn’t just been you with a secret fantasy, no; he’s been right there with you the whole time. In another moment, a different scenario, you'd play back every too-long glance or lingering touch he'd given you in a different context, but right now he's making your head too fuzzy to think that hard.
“Eddie-” you pant, unable to continue. Words swirl in your brain but fail to form a coherent sentence, and you can only hope he's possessed a sudden ability to read your mind. That he can detect how much his words are affecting you.
You're soaking his cock, making each thrust slippery and smooth. You can hear the sick sounds of his balls slapping against your skin, your cunt squelching each time his cock fucks entirely into you.
“I'm, I'm gonna-” you stammer, voice shaky as you teeter on the edge.
“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've been waiting so long for it,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.
His movements don't falter, fucking you even as your legs shake and your walls clench hard around him, over and over. Your cries are incessant, moans and curses of his name into the black hole of twilight that surrounds you. His movements grow sloppier, his previous precision dwindling. Your body grows overstimulated quickly, each drag of his cock setting your insides ablaze.
“Shit, where do you want me to cum?” he asks, sounding nothing like he did before. An almost nervous edge to his tone, his cocky facade crumbling.
“Inside, Eddie, inside,” you rush out, your mouth parting in a gasp when he instantly spills inside of you; not a moment of hesitation.
His cock twitches, a quiet, drawn-out groan leaving his lips. His thrusts slow to an exhausted halt, his breathing ragged with effort.
Your surroundings seem to blur at the edges as you come back to some semblance of reality. He pulls out slowly, your cunt tightening once as if in attempt to keep him inside forever. You don't speak, too afraid that if you do, the whole moment will shatter. That everything he had said would turn out to be a lie, that this was all some joke, something he could hold over your head for the rest of forever.
You stand up straight, your back still towards him, bending to pull your pants back up. You hear him do the same, heavy breaths puffing out of his nose.
“You okay?” he asks finally, waiting for you to look at him, to speak, anything.
You take a shaky breath, relaxing yourself. “That depends,” you reply, turning to face him. You try your best to sound collected, unsure of how well you're really doing after the way he just ruined you.
“On?” He quirks a brow.
“Whether or not you were telling the truth. When- when you said you've been wanting me all this time.” Your voice comes out far breathier than you'd wanted, but you hold your ground, your face emotionless as you await his response.
Eddie's brows shoot up momentarily before softening, an expression you don't see on him often.
“Sweetheart,” he purrs, a hand reaching out to grab your waist, pulling you up against him, chest to chest. Your heart pounds and you wonder if he can feel it. “You have me in the palm of your hand,” he murmurs, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I was just too much of a bitch to admit it.”
Goosebumps raise on your skin, your lips parting in a pleasant surprise at his statement. He draws back, deep brown eyes meeting yours.
“Well,” you say, still shaky. “I'm glad we got this sorted out, then.”
Eddie laughs, big and boisterous, so unlike that mean one he'd used before. It makes your heart swell, you want to reach out and grab his face, kiss him till he's breathless and reeling.
“Guess we could both stand to stop being so stubborn, huh?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a cheeky grin.
“Me? Stubborn? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Munson.”
His eyes narrow, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “I could go for round two right now, baby. Don’t test me.”
You crack, breaking into a laugh. “I’d actually really like to be able to walk during my shift tomorrow, and my chances of that are already slim, so can I take a rain check?”
He snorts, a playful roll of his eyes accompanying it. “Sure. A rain check. Just let me know when and where.”
“Preferably not in this parking lot.”
“Noted.”
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catboyieejeno · 2 months ago
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mingyu + foreplay
18+ minors do not interact!
• kim mingyu, who leaves so many kisses all over your body that you can't get the feeling of his lips off your mind for days after.
“god, i could kiss you forever.”
• open mouthed kisses along your neck and the expanse of your chest first thing in the morning, panting and groaning into your skin and muttering a string of pleas and praises with his little lisp, that’s even more obvious when he’s just woken up
“please let me feel you, need to feel you so bad right now,”
• or at night, dragging you onto his lap fresh out of your shower to wrap a hand around your jaw/throat and kiss your lips slowly and sensually. would drag his palms along your spine to pull you closer, all the way up until his fingers disappear into your hair, the smell of your body wash and shampoo driving him up the wall and making his dick swell up in his sweats
“y’smell so good. fuck, i just wanna taste you,”
• the feeling of his hot tongue dragging across your stomach and thighs is so dizzying that it immediately makes your vision lose focus. he's obsessed with being the reason for that look on your face, eyes hazy and glossed over, drooling lips wordlessly begging him for more.
“mmm, look at you. my pretty baby is fucked out already?”
• makes out with your pussy over the layer of your pretty cotton panties until you're soaked-through and whimpering. absolutely loves when your squirm or try to wiggle away. loves to subtly dance along the line of edging and overstimulation.
“don’t run baby, let me make you feel good. you can take it right?”
• doesn’t abuse his strength, but will use it to his advantage when it comes to sex. keeps your pretty legs pinned open, or your hips rolling against his nose and tongue while you’re sitting on his face, even when you’re so exhausted from coming that you can barely hold yourself up
“I got you, honey. stay just like this f’me.”
• if any if the members are there, he’d cover your mouth with his hand to muffle your whimpers and cries as he rubs your clit with his fingers relentlessly. mind you—a few things can be true at once: yes, he loves the noises you make and would do absolutely anything to hear them as loudly and clearly as possible. yes, he doesn’t actually care if the members hear, nor does he care about the teasing he’ll have to endure later (besides, he knows they can probably hear you either way, despite his best efforts to keep quiet). while those facts are both very true—god, does he love how shy and nervous you get at the thought of being overheard by them, eyes blown wide and brows furrowed as you struggle to keep still and quiet all at once.
“Gotta be good and stay quiet, baby. you can do that, right?”
• loves to tease you before actually putting it in: taps his head against your puffy clit, presses himself to your entrance only slightly, chuckles breathlessly when his tip is so fat that it slips and ends up just laying heavy and hot on your pelvis or poking your thigh instead. slides his dick between your lips until you’ve soaked every inch of him and you’re shaking with need from the stimulation to your clit and the desire to just be filled up.
“be patient, yeah? let me enjoy this pretty pussy.”
• so easily distracted by you… if you were helping him with dinner he’d turn off the stove at the sight of you in your little shorts or lack-thereof, if you’re wearing just his shirt. immediately bends you over the counter and eats you out from the back, face buried in your pussy and hands sliding your shirt up or pinning your wrists together on your back
“forget the food baby, it can wait when you’re wearing those little shorts…”
• pictures. of your tits covered in his spit, of the marks he left on your ribs or thighs, of your spent pussy covered in his cum, of your hands wrapped around his cock, of his hand print on your ass—keeps them in a hidden photo album and jerks off to them all the time when he’s away. sends you videos of him touching himself, audio on.
“m’thinking about you. and looking at our pictures. goddamn… wish i could fuck you right now. i miss you so bad.”
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lizard-ratt · 2 months ago
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This idea got stuck in my head, not to be taken too seriously. If you find any typos, no you didn't <3
Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
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Steve Harrington knew how to haggle. Raised by the most cutthroat business man in all of the state of Indiana, if not the United States as a whole, he knew the ins and outs of getting the best deal possible. He used this to his advantage a lot more than anyone knew.
The first time he brought out Steven Elias Harrington, son of Richard Jay Harrington was when he first got forced to sign NDAs to keep quiet about everything going on in Hawkins, Indiana. Despite only having shown up at the end, he still had a fat stack of papers to work through.
And he worked through the entire thing, taking his sweet precious time to read the entire thing, word for word. He signed nothing that day, letting the government employees watch as he took notes on every little detail, humming to himself, scoffing, and overall being as annoying about it as possible.
"These are terrible. Do better." He didn't say that exactly, but it was the general consensus as he gave them a verbal dressing down that would make his father proud (and his father was never proud). He made demands for money, for protections, for anything that he could think of. By the end, the government had agreed to provide him with a heaping helping of cash (enough to buy a house and help him live a comfortable life for the next twenty-or-so odd years), government provided medical insurance (complete coverage for the rest of his life), and a full ride scholarship for any college he wanted to go to.
Suffice to say he had rung that towel dry of anything he could ask of it. He knew that those government employees wished nothing but the worst for him, but he was satisfied with what he got, and he happily signed the fifth NDA they provided him with, flourishing his signature with relish.
Then, he became even more wrapped up in the whole thing when Dustin Henderson decided to raise a baby Demogorgon in his basement. A lot happened in those forty-eight hours, but the main one was that he got attached to the little shits, so he told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to sign anything before he looked the paperwork over.
They scoffed, rolled their eyes, but ultimately agreed. It was a very amusing few days, to say the least. The government agents (the same ones as last time) showed up with their giant stacks of paper, and came face to face with Steven Elias Harrington, and he could just see them die a little bit inside. He could practically hear what remained of their souls wither to dust.
And again, he forced them to sit as he read through every NDA, taking notes, scoffing, humming, and overall being a nuisance to them and their time. Then, he got the kids' attentions (as their eyes started to glaze over after minute thirty) and began his process.
The looks of pure awe, too, would be treasured for a very long time as he got their college tuitions paid for, government-provided medical insurance for the rest of their lives, and of course a big fat pile of cash ready for when they would turn seventeen years old. Each of them had enough money lined up for them that they wouldn't have to worry about anything until maybe their late fifties to early sixties if they were bad with their money.
And of course, he got himself another big pile of cash and access to the best lawyers in the United States if he would ever have need of it.
After that, he shouldn't have been surprised when everyone came to him for help post-Battle of Starcourt (dubbed by Dustin, of course). This time, he took two solid weeks pushing and pulling Uncle Sam in this direction and that to make sure everyone got what they needed. (Another fat stack of cash for everyone, legal protection for whatever they'd need it for, and a cover story that made everyone look the best that they possibly could. He also got college payment for Robin, since she wasn't there the first time, as well as the same medical insurance he got everyone else). Those government employees looked at Steve like he was the devil himself.
"You kinda are," Robin told him one day, after Steve recounted the specifics. "I mean, you are bleeding the government dry."
He gave her a grin. "Absolutely, I am."
Then, he and his merry band of misfits saved the world, stopping the Upside Down for good. The same government goons showed up, and instead of doing what they tried to do the previous time, they just came to Steve with all of the NDAs, and asked in the most sarcastically professional voice imaginable, "Are these up to your standers, Mr. Harrington?"
He gave his charming, King Steve smile and told them that he'd read it over. In the hospital room that held Max and Eddie, Steve pulled up a table and allowed everyone to watch as he flipped page after page, noting down the loophole phrases and weak protections, and every single trap meant to put them into a worse-off position and he threw it in the government's faces.
In return, he forced everything his heart could imagine out of them.
Another giant hunk of change for each of them.
Eddie Munson free of all charges, effective immediately
Government-provided medical insurance for Eddie Munson for the rest of his long, long life
A cover story so beautiful, so concrete that it got even the most closed minded to look at Steve's People and call them heroes.
A house for Eddie and his Uncle Wayne
"I hope I never see your face ever again," the man told Steve, forgoing all niceties at that point. "You're going to burn in hell."
"I'll save you both a seat," he told him with his sweetest, most charming smile.
The government agents left, and in their wake, Eddie Munson looked at him like he hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky.
"Wow," was all the metalhead was able to get out for a while. "Just wow."
Robin glanced between Steve and Eddie, leaned into his side and quietly sang, "The lovers, the dreamers, and me."
Now on AO3
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earthtooz · 4 months ago
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jealous ratio because i really like him like that, fluff, reader is a menace
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“who gave you those flowers?” 
ratio’s voice is demanding and snarky, eyes ablaze with a similar kind of disgust when you walk into your home with a bouquet in your arms. putting your keys on the counter, you greet him with your usual smile and prance over to place a kiss on his scowling expression.
which softens momentarily at the feel of your lips on his skin.
“hi, veritas,” you greet.
“welcome home, love,” he murmurs in return, smiling when looking at you, but the scowl returns when he makes eye contact with the flowers. “who gave you these?”
“aventurine did.”
the world freezes over with ratio’s silent rage and you’re the only one untouched despite being the catalyst. searching for a vase nearby, you’re more than content to let his possessiveness simmer, in fact, it’s something you are used to now.
when you manage to dig up an empty vase from a cabinet nearby, ratio’s footsteps scurry towards you.
“you’re keeping them?” he asks.
“why wouldn’t i? they’re a gift.”
“a gift? 
he’s fuming, absolutely fuming now as he watches you fret over the bouquet, trimming the ends, putting water in the bot, arranging them to look nice and lovely, all whilst your lover stared at you hawkishly. you pretend not to notice the way his eye twitches occasionally, allowing him to watch you work.
his mind must be working at a million thoughts per second, so you’ll just let him be until he can talk to you again.
“why did he give you flowers? there must be an occasion that i am unaware of.”
after finishing your final touches, you turn around with all the garbage in your hands and walk past the scholar. he follows. “to say thanks. he recently consulted me for one of his projects and the results were fruitful, so he bought me a bouquet in gratitude.” 
pink roses. last time ratio read, they were supposed to symbolise gratitude, the ideal choice to send to someone who has helped you. 
“well. if that’s the case then he owes me a planet’s worth of flowers.”
“lighten up, veritas, he was just being friendly.”
“friendly?” he all but snaps. 
“yes, friendly. is there an issue with that?” 
“that gambler being friendly implies to him being up to no good.” he attaches himself to your hip, hovering over you as you make a mug of coffee. “he is a menace, an undesirable anomaly, a type one error, i advise you keep your interactions with him limited. only one of us should need to deal with his antics so i suppose i’ll have to bite the bullet on this one, darling.”
“you are so brave, my hero. are you done? anymore talk about aventurine and i might just think you’re in love with him.” ratio splutters at your wild accusations, missing the way you smile under your breath. then, you throw your arms around the scholar and he doesn’t return the embrace, still dumbfounded. “i missed you and the first thing you do when i come home is talk about another man.”
he scoffs, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. there, he rests his hands on either sides of the counter beside you. “your mouth is twice as foul as his.”
“and yet you still love me.”
“marginally.”
“you!”
tomorrow, you return home to a luxurious bouquet of red roses sitting on the kitchen island.
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i'm writing this as a pregame to the diluc fic i have in the works.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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darylbae · 5 months ago
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𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡🩰
i think daryl would definitely not realize it at first, in fact i think the group would notice it before him. rick would see the way daryl's gaze would linger onto you when he'd talk about a risky supply run. rick would of course tell michonne, who would poke a little fun at him. "you like her!" "shut up, i do not!" and it wasn't until he'd laid down for the night, that he had realized it. he'd think about your eyes, and how bright they were when you'd be talking to anybody. he'd think about the nervous tells you had, like bouncing your leg, chewing on your lip and looking around the room. he'd think about how, sometimes annoyingly, bubbly you were no matter what. it would typically bother him how happy you were mid-apocalypse, but he lets it slide more often than not. he would not pick up on this stuff if he didn't have a crush. he'd be hyper-aware of how he acts around you, after admitting to himself he had a crush on you. he'd glance at you, then quickly glance away, but always end up looking back over at you. he'd study your lips and how they moved, wanting nothing more than to feel them on his. most of all, he'd keep it to himself. because the last thing he needs is everyone finding this out. and making your friendship with him tense. carol could see through daryl almost too easily, so she's the only one who can get away with poking the bear. besides you. "you like her, huh?" carol would ask, and daryl would just roll his eyes. "so what?" "do something about it!" daryl had no understanding of 'doing something about it', despite his moody, careless attitude, he cared deeply about your friendship and wanted nothing to ruin that. rick was playing matchmaker and suggested the two of you to go out on a run, much to daryl's dismay. now he'd have to deal with his constant reminder of his crush on you, as well as you. there you were, sat sweetly on the hood of a car waiting for him, a smile plastered onto your face as you spotted him. "ready to go?" you asked, your voice smooth as honey and it had sent shivers up his neck. "get in." he'd mumble. "yes, sir." let's not talk about your use of the word sir, and what it does to him. he couldn't explain it, the authority of the word sir, just hit him in his sweet spot. he'd constantly look out for you on runs, even when going along with others, he'd volunteer to split up but stick with you. it wasn't like you were a nuisance, not all the time anyway, he just loved being there for you. he'd walk behind you, trying to be a gentleman and stop himself from gazing across your body as you walked. you were the total personification of sex. "can i bring this back?" you'd ask, picking up something stupidly unnecessary, this time it was a small, pink, glittery cowboy hat attached to a pink headband. "will it help us?" he'd respond, not even looking your way, but still having to keep you entertained. "no." you'd respond, glum face as you look down at it back on the shelf. "then i think we found our answer." daryl was always a bummer, but you had gotten used to it. you knew how deeply he cared for his people, so what was a little grumpiness. but you'd always return back, and find whatever stupid thing you'd found on a run, sitting on your bed by the end of the day.
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