#as long as you get one more than anyone else wanted to give you

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

My long, nuanced answer to this poll about shipping:

I like to think about different possibilities of a ship regardless on if it’s canon or not canon, and the majority of my ships are not canon. Which I’m okay with because corpos sometimes tend to mess up canon couples anyway ESPECIALLY most LGBT+ couples, so that is why I am 100% content with say, Destiel not being canon. Don’t worry, I’m not using that Destiel meme that has been used very distastefully nor am I swearing with my whole chest until I run out of oxygen that Dean is bisexual in canon. You can take a breather. Specified ships aside, I like romance, and I love it even better when it’s well written and the couple has the best chemistry.

When it comes to others that love toxic ships, that is a whole different discussion for those particular shippers to have, and I prefer ships that have a lot of chemistry or potential chemistry over toxic ships, so I’m not the right person to discuss the nuances of toxic ships. So the toxic ship lovers can throw their opinions onto this reblog if they want.

I’ve also had ships where they were off-screen, and I was like, “but what if they actually did interact?” I always think about the personality traits that would make the characters compatible with each other. This is NOT a romantic ship, this is purely a familial relationship possibility that I have not seen anyone do yet: Jason Todd and Terry McGinnis. Think about it, people. Jason has a few similar traits to Terry and Jason would definitely find himself relating to Terry more than some of the other Batfamily members. Plus, it would be refreshing to see those two interact and have Jason not be constantly fighting with the Batfamily, specifically Bruce Wayne. I get that his opinions and views are very different from everyone else in the Batfamily, but it gets old fast. Like an old and hardened Jason Todd will probably incorporate some cool non-lethal wrist guns on Terry’s suit after testing it out and even sparring with Terry while (playfully) teasing him because that’s what older siblings do: annoy and taunt their younger siblings. With love. Seriously though, I think Jason and Terry would have the best brotherly relationship out of the Batfam. Or maybe I’m just alone in that teeny tiny minority lol. Call it a rare BROTP.

Fanon in shipping is a mixed bag, because on one hand, I go, “yeah, I can definitely see this happening with Character A,” but on the other, there is like OP said, mischaracterization. I like most ships even if it involves a character who is canonically spoken for or has explicitly shown attraction to only the opposite gender with another character with ZERO cheating, because I don’t need ships to follow canon. And when cheating gets involved I’m thinking, “yeah no, given the loyalty this character gave in canon, this is out of their character, so skipping!” That is where fanon comes into play. But if I dislike the fanon, then I create my own.

Shipping has no rules, except just respect other people’s boundaries, so I’m not gonna tell people “ew gross, why you following canon,” or “Blegh, why do you like this fanon, it’s so blah blah blah!” My opinions on canon vs fandom are nuanced. Canon can sometimes give us some cute pairings (like Kiara and Kovu from Lion King 2, my GOATED OTP) but canon also gives us icky ones or messes up a fairly nice couple (like Gambit and Rogue from the latest X-Men cartoon from what I heard and saw clips of). There are also non-canon ships that have made me scratch my head, made me feel indifferent, or I’m just like “I don’t get why anyone would ship this, but whatever.” And again, shipping has no rules, except just respect the boundaries of other people. Canon or not, have some fun with your ships. Let’s not start wars over ships and making non-shippers think that ALL of us act that way.

Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:

*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Stray Kids & Their Favorite Part of Their Chubby Gf's Body ♡

♡ A/N: I wrote this for all of my chubby/plus size/fluffy Stays out there who might be in need of some spicy body worship and a little reminder that you're a fucking baddie worthy of being desired. K, love you, byeee.

♡ Pairing: ot8!stray kids x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 2.2k-ish total

♡ Warnings: reader's plus size sooo obvi descriptions of chubby bodies, body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, a lil manhandling, tit sucking, oral sex (m&f receiving), spanking, and that's all there is, loves.

♡ Bang Chan ♡

Something Chan gets teased about a lot is how he always manages to find an excuse to have you in his arms. If it’s an arm casually thrown around your waist while you’re waiting in line at the coffee shop or a full on bear hug when you’re sitting on his lap at the studio, he craves the comfort of having your body close to his. He does it even more when he’s stressed or has had a particularly long day. Chan will bring you in close, squeezing you tight, giving special attention to the squishing your love handles. You always giggle, telling him not to play with your rolls. You swear you’ll get rid of them one day and Chan gets all grumpy every single time. They’re a part of you. He can’t imagine you without them. Actually, he doesn’t want to. It’s so relaxing to squeeze them when he’s holding you close, letting the annoyances of the day melt away in your presence. Sometimes that’s not enough though and he needs some extra stress relief which you’re always more than pleased to offer him. He finds it super sexy when you choose to take the lead, climbing on top and riding him at a slow sensual pace while his hands are free to roam wherever they wish. Still, they always find their way back to your love handles, gripping them to bounce you in his lap at whatever speed he desires. And when you're dangerously close to your high, making the prettiest noises as you're ready to gush all over his length, he can hold onto them to keep you right where he wants you, totally at his mercy, unable to do anything else besides moan and whine in his grip.

♡ Changbin ♡

Changbin’s the strongest man you know—one glance at those heavenly muscles makes it impossible to question that fact—but even the strongest men have weaknesses and one of his happens to be your thighs. If you ever want to see this man blush all you need to do is show up to one of your dates in a skirt just short enough that he can get a peek at your soft thighs kissing. He’ll barely pay attention to his meal, preoccupied instead with how your thighs rub together when you walk over to the table or how they seem even thicker when you take your seat, the fabric of your skirt riding up as you settle in. Being the gentleman that he is, he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you when you’re out in public but once you’re in the car? That’s a different story entirely. It’s one hand on the steering wheel and the other snug between your thighs all the way home. He’ll take his time massaging the plump flesh, occasionally letting his fingers drift up to tease you through your panties. By the time you get home you’ll be soaking wet, desperate for the teasing to come to an end, but Changbin won’t be in a rush. Changbin will press you up against anything—the wall, the couch, the kitchen counter—taking as long as he wants to kiss and lick your thighs until even he can’t take it anymore and he’s tucking your panties aside to taste your juices. There’s truly nothing like the way your thighs shake when his tongue’s inside of you.

♡ Seungmin ♡

Before meeting you stretch marks weren’t something that Seungmin cared about one way or another. He knew that people got them from gaining weight or losing it. It was as simple as that. Of course he knew that there were people who felt insecure about them but it seemed so silly to him that anyone would feel bad about something so insignificant. Meeting you didn’t change that. He still sees no reason to be insecure about them. What did change was his view of them as insignificant. After seeing you naked for the first time he fell in love with them, finding beauty in every single stretch mark on your body. If you’re together and your stretch marks happen to peek out of your clothes he wouldn’t dare tell you to put them away. Instead he’ll take that as an excuse to trace them with his fingertips, following them along the curves of your body. He’s so obsessed that he notices new ones before you do. Not that he’d ever admit that. Seungmin likes to pretend that his fascination isn’t as intense as it is when both of you know the truth. He can play up the indifferent act all he wants but nothing can hide how drawn he is to them. You can literally be riding his face, his eyes too blurred and glossy from being pussy drunk to even see, and his fingers will chart their course right to your stretch marks. It always makes you wetter to be silently praised like that and that’s how Seungmin likes it. You’re so much more delicious when you’re high off of praise.

♡ Hyunjin ♡

To say that Hyunjin’s obsessed with your silhouette would be the understatement of the century. The contours of your body are pure art to him. He could spend all day admiring them. The few times you’ve actually caught him staring are nothing compared to how much he’s actually done it. You don’t even have to be doing anything remotely sexual for this man to get hypnotized. The simple act of you existing in your body is enough to test his impulse control and he fails every single time. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, he can’t resist the temptation to feel the warmth of your body beneath his touch. Hyunjin likes to cuddle up behind you, gently pushing your shirt up to let his hand rest against your side for a little bit before his palms are riding the soft hills of your figure. He starts out slow, careful not to wake you, but then you let out those cute, hushed moans in your sleep and it makes him feral. By the time he’s done devouring you with his touch you’re half awake, mindlessly pressing yourself back against his hard cock as he sweetly kisses your neck, his fingers slipping into your panties to feel how wet you’ve gotten without even knowing it. The shape of you is such a beautiful sight to see, especially with all the ways you twist when you’re coming undone around his fingers. And that's never the end of things. How could it be when you always get him so hard and there's so many positions left to put you in?

♡ I.N ♡

If you check Jeongin’s phone he probably has as many pictures of you as he does of himself which is saying a lot for a guy whose job basically requires him to take a million selfies a day. Jeongin treasures the photos he has of the two of you together but his favorites are the ones that are just you so that he can dedicate all of his attention to drooling over how pretty you are. Your face has always been the center of everything for him and he can’t get enough of it. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Don’t even get him started on your cute little chin and your chubby cheeks. If it’s cold out he races to warm your cheeks with his palms. When he kisses you he never misses the opportunity to cup your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips move against yours. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to come out of nowhere, pinching your cheeks and telling you what a cutie you are. It isn’t always about you being cute though. Your face is as seductive as it is adorable and he’d give anything to have your sexier expressions immortalized on his phone. Since that’s just not safe to do—he’d hate to accidentally send that to the group chat—he just has to cherish those moments when he can witness it in real time. It should be illegal to look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock, your cheeks even fluffier all filled up with his cum. Don’t even get him started on what it’s like to see you hit your high. Your face flush with heat, your eyes sparkling with tears, your walls spasming wildly around his cock, his fingers, his tongue, or even your favorite toy. You look like an angel. A sexy little fucked out angel but an angel all the same.

♡ Han ♡

If your body had a fandom, Han's bias would be your boobs. It’s been clear since day one that he’s head over heels for them. You have gorgeous eyes, the prettiest he’s ever seen, but he can’t help how his gaze tends to drift below your neckline to those soft, bouncy breasts resting on your chest. Sometimes he’ll hug you from behind, wrapping his arms around you so that your boobs are propped up by his forearms. Other times he’ll take the not so subtle approach of scooping them into his hands, gently kneading them to feel their weight in his palms. When it’s time to go shopping for bras he’ll be right there, eager to help you pick one out and more than willing to pay for whichever one you want. His favorites are the pretty laced ones that bring your tits together to make for the most succulent cleavage he’s ever seen in his life. As much as he loves a good bra, he’ll take you without one any day of the week. Late nights trapped in studio sessions are always made easier when he knows he’ll stumble through the door of your shared apartment to find you already changed into a pair of his sweatpants and a thin crop top that lets your nipples show through. No matter how exhausted he is, the sight of you innocently skipping around the house without a bra gives him more than enough energy to get you out of that crop top and spend all night French kissing your sensitive nipples. He gets so needy for you, on the verge of whining as his tongue swirls around your bud, his cock straining against his pants. He could cum from this alone without ever having to be inside of you but it’s so much better when he is.

♡ Felix ♡

If you ever want to see Felix get all pouty, say literally anything negative about your belly. He’s super protective of you in general, constantly showering you in reassuring words about your body, but your belly’s the cutest thing in the world to him and there’s no slander allowed. If you’re rocking a dress and he finds out that you’re wearing shapewear or tights to smooth yourself out he’ll for sure find a way around them. Nothing stops your man from squishing his girl’s belly, not even you. It gets to the point that you don’t even bother anymore. You just let your belly take whatever shape it wishes and Felix eats it up every single time. He’s so down bad for it that he holds onto it when he’s going to sleep. Some mornings you even wake up to him dozing away with his head resting on your belly and his arms around your waist. Any attempts to pull him off are useless. He’ll only hold you tighter, grumbling in protest as he nuzzles your shirt up to kiss your bare skin. At this point you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been late to work because Felix got carried away praising you with his lips and the situation escalated to sleepy morning sex that left you pinned beneath him, his name the first thing to leave your lips at the crack of dawn. There's so much about you to enjoy—the slickness of your walls, how hot you sound moaning in his ear—but he always has to steal a few glances of how beautifully your belly jiggles when he bottoms out.

♡ Lee Know ♡

Meeting Minho through mutual friends meant that you’d already heard a lot about him before you started dating. This included the rumors that Minho couldn’t get enough of a nice ass once he saw one. Naturally you laughed off that information, assuming that his friends must’ve been exaggerating for the sake of a joke. As it turns out, they weren’t exaggerating at all. In fact, everything they said would happen has happened. Minho worships every part of you but your ass gets special treatment for sure. If you’re around other people or not, his intrusive thoughts are always winning. It’s like a compulsion. He has to at least pat it or give it a light slap to feel it jiggle. In his defense, you do have an ass beyond worth worshipping. It’s gorgeous in sweatpants, in shorts, in panties, or in nothing at all. That last one’s his preferred option though and he won’t even try to deny it. No matter how delicious your plush ass looks in some lace panties, it’ll never beat the perfection of seeing you without them. And when you let him bend you over to spank you as hard as he wants? This man doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can only keep it together for so long before he’s easing his cock into you to feel how every slap has you trembling, the vibrations traveling through your body while you're just dripping down his length. You're usually a bit sore after but it's totally worth it for something that feels so good. Plus Minho always kisses it better.

[arpicityandneed]

You, Me, and the King

18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.

~

If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.

"J-James!"

He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)

You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.

"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.

"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.

"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.

"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.

The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.

"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."

"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.

"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.

When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.

"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.

"Shh, just making sure it takes."

[maxivstappen]

DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?

[ masterlist / requests closed ]

☽｡⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words

You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.

You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.

You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.

Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?

But that’s where the trouble began.

You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.

Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.

Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.

Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.

He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.

It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

Or so you thought.

The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.

Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.

The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.

Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.

But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.

You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.

Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?

—

Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.

Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?

Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.

But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.

Right?

—

15 missed calls from carlos sainz.

that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.

What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?

Did something happen to your Lando?

Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.

It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.

You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.

You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.

[dissapointu]

“Listening to the Chaos”

You’ve learned by now that Jinx’s mind never seems to stop. It’s like a tornado of thoughts, each one spiraling in and out, colliding with another before it has the chance to fully form. Most people can’t keep up with her, and even fewer try. But you, for some reason, find yourself drawn to the chaos.

It’s a warm afternoon, the sun low in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets of Zaun. The noise of the city is a constant hum, the clatter of machines, distant shouts, and the occasional explosion are all part of the soundtrack of life in this place.

Jinx is pacing in front of you, a nervous energy pouring off her as she runs her hands through her wild, blue hair. She’s been going on about something—again—but you’re the only one who’s still listening.

“Okay, okay, so I’m thinking of making a bomb that actually makes things smell good, right? But like… a really big one! Like, you know, huge. But it’s got to have a big boom too, obviously, or else what’s the point? Who wants a bomb that just smells nice? That’s lame, right?” Her words tumble out in a stream, faster than your brain can fully process. She’s hardly pausing for breath, her hands moving wildly as she gestures around, as if painting a picture in the air. “I was thinking, maybe… orange? Or no, pineapple! Or, wait, bubblegum! Gotta be something that totally confuses the people around, you know? Like, what’s that smell? It’s weird, but it’s awesome, but—”

You catch her eye, and without missing a beat, you offer a soft, understanding nod. She pauses mid-rant, her wide blue eyes locking onto yours. For a split second, it’s as if the storm in her mind has momentarily settled, just because you’re paying attention. You’re not distracted. You’re not zoning out, waiting for her to finish.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” you say gently, offering a small smile. “Pineapple sounds fun. You could totally make it pop.”

Her face brightens in an instant, as if the smallest bit of validation from you makes the world brighter. “Right?! It’d be amazing! Imagine—an explosion that smells like a tropical vacation, but then BOOM, you’re covered in shrapnel!” She cackles at her own idea, but the laughter is lighter now, less manic. She’s not used to anyone staying with her during her rambling, but you’ve been there since the beginning, hearing her out, even when no one else does.

As Jinx continues, the words start to tumble less wildly. She’s still bouncing from one topic to another, but now there’s a softness to it—something less frantic in her voice. You keep your attention on her, your gaze steady, giving her the kind of focus she doesn’t often get. You don’t interrupt. You don’t rush her. You just let her spill her thoughts.

“And then,” she continues, grinning madly, “I was thinking of this one thing. You know, I was in the middle of making the biggest thing I’ve ever made, but then—oh, wait—there’s a thing where, like, what if I just, I don’t know, make a huge thing and then—”

You tilt your head, listening with full attention. “So, you mean like a surprise, right? Keeping people on their toes?”

Her eyes light up at the suggestion, and for a moment, it feels like you’ve given her the missing piece of a puzzle. “Yeah! Exactly! Like, they think they know what it’s gonna be, and then, BOOM—surprise! The world explodes in a way they never expected!”

You can hear the excitement building in her voice as she begins to pace again, but this time, she’s pacing with a purpose. Her steps are more deliberate, her mind piecing things together in a way that she can share now, instead of keeping it all locked inside. And it’s all because you’re listening—really listening.

It’s moments like this, where the world feels like it’s in motion around her, but you’re the anchor. You’re the calm in her storm. And for once, it’s not overwhelming. It’s not exhausting. It’s just you and Jinx, sharing a space together, hearing each other out.

“I— I think I can make it work,” she mutters, quieter now, but there’s a new determination in her voice. “Maybe… maybe I just needed to say it all out loud.” Her tone is different now. Less chaotic, less like she’s struggling to keep her thoughts in line, and more like she’s confident in her idea.

You give her a reassuring smile. “You can totally do it, Jinx. Whatever you make, it’s gonna be awesome.”

Jinx grins, her wild eyes softening as she looks at you. “You’re the best,” she says, her voice quieter now, full of something that almost sounds… grateful.

And in that moment, you realize that while her mind might always be racing, she finds comfort in you, in the fact that you never dismiss her ideas. You don’t shut her down. You don’t pretend not to hear her rambling. You’re the one who’s there, listening, catching the fragments of her scattered thoughts and helping them make sense.

Her hand reaches out to grab yours, squeezing it tightly. “Thanks for listening to my crazy rants,” she says, her usual manic energy replaced by a quiet appreciation. “Most people don’t. But you? You really get it.”

You squeeze her hand back, your smile widening. “I always will, Jinx.”

And as she lets out a deep breath, leaning her head against your shoulder for a moment, you realize it’s not just about her ideas or her explosions. It’s about being the one who doesn’t just listen to her chaos—it’s about understanding her. In a world where everyone expects her to be loud, unpredictable, and wild, you’re the one person who listens when the world drowns out the noise. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what makes all the difference.

[heartofjasmina]

A thought just crossed my mind

The Iida brothers (or just one of them) finding out that their sweet little sister is a slut, who's willing to spread her legs for anyone gives her any attention

Or that she works at a glory hole

This-

Tenya Iida had no idea what he was doing here. One of his sidekicks had told him that he needed to 'unwind' and brought him to a dingy sex shop that had.. places in the back where you could get off. It made him feel dirty but it had been far too long since he got off with someone else involved. So he followed his sidekick deeper into the store, all the way to the back where a gloryhole had been installed.

"Have fun doll, brought a real hero for you. And you love heros don't you?" His sidekick called and though Tenya wanted to hit him, his gut twisted when he heard a sweet, familiar voice answer.

"I do. I love heroes. Lots and lots." You almost moaned the words. He should not be getting hard over this.

His sidekick closed the door behind him after giving Tenya a clap on the shoulder and whispering loudly "she's got a hungry lil mouth, and you've more than earned a relaxing break."

It was easy to find the hidden latch that kept you 'protected' in your little cubby. And sure enough, when he damn near ripped it off the hinges, there you were. Fingering your needy pussy and mouth wide open waiting for more dick, and unavoidably his little sister. If he wasn't mistaken you were even wearing one of his shirts.

"T-Ten!" You flushed horribly as your big brother saw you in your debauched state. But all he could think about was the fact that he could still see your tiny fingers buried knuckle deep in your wetness.

"Get up." He barely recognized his own voice, rough and gravelly as it was.

"But--"

"You really don't want push it right now." He took a step forward and grabbed you by the hair, visciously ignoring the way his dick twitch in his pants when he realized that on your knees like that it would be all to easy to fuck your throat.

"Ten, I swear I was just-" Your voice was pitiful, trembling, but still hoarse. Probably from all the dick you'd had down your throat.

"Being a fucking slut. That's what you were doing." It was like fire had taken over his blood, and all filters between his brain and his mouth had been lifted. "If I have to give it to you myself to keep you from offering up your mouth like a two dollar whore, then I will."

"Just wanted you, not them!" You swore, and yeah, Tenya can admit that's what caused him to snap.

"Oh, so instead of admitting you wanted to fuck me like a big girl, you decided to let any hero off the street use you?" He snarled as he dragged your face forward, rutting against your face without remorse.

"I'm sorry, Ten." It was genuine, and you weren't revolted by his crudeness. Hell you were mouthing him through his jeans- looking up at him so needily it made his head spin. "Let me make it up to you." Every kiss to his clothed cock caused him leak pre into his boxers, a dark wet patch forming as his tip grew sticky.

"Take my cock out." He should be worried by how calmly he gave the order. Should've been pissed by how easy and practiced you were as you unbuckled his belt and freed his cock. But all he wanted was to punish you for making him feel this way, wreck you until you were just as fucked up as he was about this.

He had to tighten his grip on your hair when you went to suck him. You fucking whimpered at being denied his cock, like it physically hurt you not to have his heavy girth in your mouth.

"I know you're a cockslut, but you're gonna have to learn some fucking manners if you want my cock sis." And there it was, that tremble in your lower lip and tears gathering in your eyes. The look that always made him ashamed and aroused in equal measure when he was just a bit too mean to you growing up.

"Please can I have your cock, Ten?" He wondered if he should let you start crying for real first, but then reasoned you could cry on his cock later anyway.

"So sweet when you want to be, too bad I don't buy it. Not after finding you here." He sneered down at you as he released your hair. "But a deals a deal. Make me cum and maybe I'll think about fucking you."

You were off like a shot, opening your mouth wide and swallowing him down inch by inch until your nose was in his pubes. He wasn't sure who moaned louder as you started to bob your head. It was a slow, wet, nasty yet utterly loving blow job that Tenya knew would ruin him for any other girl after you.

"You shouldn't be this good, fuck-" Ten had to resist the urge to skullfuck your perfect little mouth. You hadn't earned any effort on his part yet, but it was heaven and hell giving you free reign. "How many dicks did you have to suck to get this fucking perfect?" He was babbling to himself, lost in the pleasure of your hot wet tongue and throat.

Then he felt your tongue on his balls, little kitten licks every time you deep throated him, threatening what little sanity he had left.

"They're so full they ache sis, all for you. Feel 'em." Your fingers were sticky when they cupped his balls reverently, and his cock throbbed in your mouth when he remembered why. His gut tightened and he knew he wasn't going to last any longer.

"Gonna cum, y/n-" He didn't know why he bothered to warn you, you swallowed him to the root and looked him in the eyes- silently pleading for his load.

His balls drew up as he unloaded down your throat, and you moaned like it was the most delicious treat in the world. Your eyes grew unfocused as you struggled to keep up with every thick spurt of seed. Tenya swore he had never came so hard in his life.

The problem became evident when you wouldn't let his dick go.

"Hey-"

You ignored him, your tongue massaging the vein on the underside of his shaft before you pulled back and started making out with his tip. Tonguing his slit for every last drop- completely lost in your worship of him.

So he had to grab your hair again to haul you off growling, "Enough."

You pouted at him, every bit the spoiled baby of the family. "More, Ten. Please?"

He scoffed, tucking himself away and throwing his jacket at you- already a plan forming in his mind on how exactly he was supposed to handle you and your insatiable mouth.

"Get dressed. Lets see what Tensei has to say."

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Welp, I did a thing 👀

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio VIdal

Word Count: 4,572

I´m also sharing the AO3 link for anyone who prefers to read on there ❤

Agatha blew a rogue strand of hair from her face and wiped her brow. Even with all the magic in the world she was still doomed to a lifetime of digging up her own graves whenever the situation called for it. Which, unfortunately, it did. When the news hit her that a particularly powerful Witch had just recently “bit the dust”, and happened to take a very enticing talisman along with her - a talisman that Agatha had every intention of acquiring - she knew exactly what needed to be done.

“God, Cynthia, could they have buried your ass any deeper?”

Agatha was already in a foul mood as it was, and the ripening smell of decay and wet earth was doing very little to better it. Still, she did her best to ignore it and stay focused on the task at hand.

“Desecrating the dead, are we now, Aggs?”

Agatha stopped short, scowling at the infuriating nickname before peering up from the half dug grave.

“Oh, jesus fuck, what are you doing here?” She asked. The air outside suddenly felt iced over - almost cold enough to see her breath. Agatha glowered at the last woman in the universe she currently wanted to see.

“Heh, could ask you the same thing.” Rio replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Agatha snorted before going back to her digging. “Well that, sweetcheeks, is none of your damn business.”

“Oh, come on, Aggie. Give me the deets.”

The dark haired woman wiggled her eyebrows at Agatha, an act that both infuriated her and also made her laugh. It was one of the things she hated most about Rio. Just how easy it was for her to break through her walls - to bring down her defenses. It might even be the thing she liked least about her ex lover. Even more than the fact that the love of her life was the literal personification of Death.

“And what's in it for me?” Agatha asked, peaking over her shoulder.

“Anything you want.” Rio teased.

The witch felt her whole body tense at the simple implications behind the reaper’s words, as well as her teasing tone. They were enough to bring an unwanted dusting of heat to Agatha’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and silently went back to digging. Rio only rolled her eyes and leaned back against the nearest tombstone, a black lollipop suddenly appearing between two fingers.

“So, how long is this gonna take? I don't have all night, you know.”

“Good. Then that means you can GO.”

The dark haired woman chuckled, she really never could get enough of riling her past lover up. In fact, there were days that she absolutely thrived off it. It fed her, you could say. Mind, body, and soul.

“Oh, now we both know you don't really want that, sweetheart.”

Agatha growled in frustration before slowing her digging down to a painfully tedious pace, her gaze practically shooting daggers in Rio’s direction, even with the smirk that now played at her lips.

“Looks like you're gonna be standing there looking pretty for a while, then.”

Rio pulled the lollipop from her mouth and grinned.

“You think I'm pretty?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Agatha could feel her temper rising. Both from Rio’s constant nagging and the persistent freeze that was seeping into her bones. She wanted nothing more than to no longer be cold and digging out dirt from inside a hole. Unfortunately for her, though, this amulet was far too important - way more important than anything else in her life - so giving up and going home to her warm bed was simply not an option.

“Come on, Agatha, this is borinnng.”

“Well, lucky for you, you don't have to be here. This has nothing to do with you, Rio.”

Rio snorted. “Ah, this has everything to do with me. You're literally in a graveyard, digging up the recently deceased corpse of a world renowned witch-”

“Oh, Cynthia was a twat!”

Rio covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Twat or not, Aggs. You know I'm right.”

Agatha shook her head and gritted her teeth.

“You’re welcome to get your ass in here, then, and help me. Otherwise, shut it.”

Rio popped the lollipop back into her mouth and gave it a swirl before answering.

“Nah, I think I rather prefer the view from out here.”

The reaper gave her a wink before Agatha disgruntingly went back to her digging. A light fog had begun to settle in over the graveyard, bringing in an even cold chill with it, Agatha couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled across her shoulders as she stuck her shovel deep into the moist dirt, reminding herself to collect a small vial of it later to take home. A couple more shovel fulls and the smell of fresh decay became more distinct, almost overwhelming, Agatha was certain she was finally nearly there. And the sound of metal striking something firm only confirmed her suspicions.

“Aha! Finally, you old witch.”

“Aren’t you like, a hundred years older than her?” Rio laughed.

“Yes, but I make it look good, darling.” Agatha replied, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder with a satisfied grin. “Now, let’s crack this baby open.”

The witch rubbed her gloved hands together excitedly before kneeling down, though, the smile on her face quickly faded, replaced by a frown.

“What’s up?”

“It’s stone.”

“Stoned?”

“NO, Rio, her coffin. It’s made from fucking stone.”

Agatha knelt down and began frantically wiping dirt from the top of the stone casket.

“AND it has a fucking protection spell engraved into it.” She added, clenching her fists. “Fuck!”

“Can’t you just.. blast it open?”

“Not without potentially damaging it.”

“... without potentially damaging what?”

“Ah, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Agatha quickly added, standing to straighten out her jacket before holding out a single gloved hand. “Now, help me out of here, will you? I need to find something to get this open with.”

“What’s in it for me?” Rio asked with a smirk.

The witch silently placed her shovel against the dirt and gave her ex lover a look.

“Just help me, before I-!”

Agatha felt the cold hand of Death clasp firmly onto hers and pull her from the deep grave, tugging with such force that she fell immediately forward. Right onto Rio. Their bodies completely flush together.

“Oh, whoops. Seems we have found ourselves in a rather.. complicated position.”

Rio batted her eyelashes in faux innocence, making Agatha snort.

“Mh.. and completely by accident, I’m sure.”

“Of course. You know me. I’d never.. fuck ..with the natural order of things.”

Agatha only shook her head before starting to lift herself up.

“Wait.”

Rio’s hand coming to rest firmly on her forearm brought the witch's gaze directly down at her. Her eyes as dark as obsidian, shimmering with moonlight from above and a measure of hope. Agatha’s breath shuddered, a small bite to her bottom lip as she looked down at her once lover - at her heart. She paused.

“Rio…”

In a tone that seemed far too soft for such a great and terrible witch, Agatha Harkness could barely breathe out the woman's name. She could barely stand to think of it. She closed her eyes before going to move again, but Rio grabbed her arm just the same. This time pulling her closer forward with near desperation.

“Agatha. Please.”

Even with the thick emotions that were swiftly building inside of her, Agatha could never pass up the chance to tease her past lover.

“Begging already, Reap? Someone’s losing her touch.”

The reaper's dark eyes grew wide at her old nickname, a slight quiver to her bottom lip. Agatha took off her gloves and placed two fingers around Rio’s jaw and pulled her close.

“You know you're my favorite poison, right?”

Whatever words were set to come out of Rio’s mouth next were consumed by a deep kiss. A kiss of longing and regret. Of passion and pain. A kiss that was felt in every universe, and in every timeline of their love. It washed over them in a warmth, languishing as their tongues danced and their souls devoured. Rio’s hands hungry, wandering over as much of Agatha’s body as they could until the witch grabbed them and pinned them over her head. Rio squirmed beneath her, whining slightly.

“And here now I thought you were going to behave.” Agatha whispered, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, we both know you like it best when I put up a little fight, darling.” Rio replied as she smirked up at her, her arms now struggling to get out of her past lover’s grasp. Agatha only chuckled before forcing Rio’s arms back down over her head and into the cold, wet grass. A soft incantation whispered into the night quickly binding the reaper’s hands in a wisp of bright purple.

“Sorry, Reap. This time, I’m in control.”

Rio pressed her hips firmly up into Agatha, forcing pressure against the witch’s core and making her moan.

“You sure about that?” She quipped back with a grin.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

Agatha placed her hand around the base of Rio’s neck - a slight maniacal look on the witch’s face as she applied pressure. The reaper gasped at the familiar touch before leaning into it, her hand coming unbound to hold Agatha’s wrist. A smirk playing at her lips.

Agatha scowled. She had always been annoyed at just how ineffective her powers were on Rio, but she guessed they'd have to be to be able to withstand loving someone like her.

“You're not playing fair, Reap.” She said, shaking her head.

“Aren't I, though?”

Rio gave Agatha a wink, an all too wide grin on her face as she placed both of her hands on Agatha’s biceps and flipped the two of them over with ease. Waves of dark hair falling forward and eyes as crisp as night staring down at the witch as she found herself suddenly on her back. She growled in frustration, but Rio knew how much it turned her on. The fighting, the struggle, the battle for dominance. Even though Agatha was usually always the one to come out on top, the reaper was more than happy to make her work for it a little first.

“Now who's in control? Huh? Sweetheart?”

Agatha bucked her hips, forcing her thigh across Rio’s core. A slight gasp followed by a needy moan slipped from the woman’s mouth, warming the space between them. Agatha looked up at her, smiling smugly - a single kiss blown in Rio’s direction before a flash of bright purple had them both on their feet.

“You were saying?”

Rio opened her mouth to speak, though her attempts to quip back were quickly stifled by the abrupt feeling of being flown through the air, cradles within her lover’s arms. Her back forced against the cold bark of the nearest tree. She moved slowly to straighten out her hair and shirt, clearing her throat.

“Oh, nooo. It seems you have me right where you want me, Agatha.”

Agatha leaned in, her warm breath skating over Rio's ear.

“Or maybe, I have you exactly where you want to be. Rio.”

Rio smirked, leaning even further back into the tree to elongate her neck. The bare branches above her rustling at Death’s touch.

“Maybe-”

And just like that, her words were swallowed. Replaced by moans and whimpers that only the rush of Agatha’s lips on hers could ensue. That only the firm but gentle touch of her heart’s caress could coax. The subtle dance of Agatha’s tongue over here, the utter need of it. As the witch’s hands roamed freely over her body like it was her own. As if she owned it physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

“Don’t make me.. beg.” She whimpered between heated kisses.

And she did.

Death was well aware that she would never love another. That Agatha was one in a million. Cut from stone and rock and stardust. Rio leaned into her touch even more, desperate to feel her everywhere. Desperate to have her inside of her.

“Aw, but why? Sounds so pretty coming from that mouth of yours.”

The witch’s hands and fingers danced over her like an ill forgotten melody. A dance macabre that waltzed over every part of her except where she needed it most. The desire inside of her being built higher and higher, bringing with it the all too familiar scent of life.

“See how beautiful it is when you're like this? How am I to just give in? ”

Agatha peered up at the tree Rio was pinned against, watching as new life began to breathe within it. As a swirl of green encased them both and the smallest of leaves started to blossom.

“Agatha… please...”

“Mmmh.”

Agatha hummed in the reaper’s ear before nipping at it, her tongue circling the outer shell of her ear. A trail of kisses spattering down Rio’s neck as even more leaves began to bloom. The cemetery around them a stark reminder of the frigid winter’s breath of the night, with all the other trees otherwise dead and barren. It was no secret to Agatha that Rio could breathe life into the darkest of areas, it was something her heart knew all too well.

“My love, pleas-.”

Whether by pure desire alone or the absolute need to never hear those words drip from Rio's tongue ever again, Agatha slid her hand deep into her pants. A mere second pause before her fingers were eagerly slipped inside of her. First one, then another. Rio gasped.

“Don’t.” Agatha replied adamantly, teasing her with a single curl of her fingers.

Rio let out a moan before pointing. “F-fine. Asshole.”

“That's more like it.” The witch smirked, pressing the dark haired woman even further into the tree, fingers curling deep inside her. Rio moaned a little louder, spurring a small patch of forget-me-nots to bloom on the branches above.

“Extra needy tonight, are we, Reap?” Agatha added, looking up at the small blue flowers.

“Fuck you.”

“Hmmm.. maybe.” Agatha replied, punctuating her words with a simple curl of her fingers. A third one slipping in. “If you behave.”

“F-fuck.”

Rio’s hitched breath only made the witch’s smirk smugger. Dark tendrils covering the reaper's face as her head fell forward.

“Uh-uh. Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Rio’s dark eyes show up, locking onto Agatha's without question. A beautiful pink hue splashed across her cheeks and the humming of life vibrating within the tree behind her. She looked beautiful like this, Agatha couldn't deny that, with the essence of life’s mortal balance pulsing inside of her. She curled her fingers again, this time a little deeper. A slight arch to Rio's back and the widening of her hips was all the witch needed to fuel her on further.

“That's it. That's my good Reap.”

Rio whimpered, her breath hitched. Eyelashes fluttering as Agatha pumped her fingers in and out very slowly - intently - giving her just enough to build her pleasure at an almost unbearable pace. Rio was wet. Dripping. With the measure of her arousal trickling down Agatha’s wrist and soaking her thin fabric that encased it.

“Agatha-”

“Shhh.”

The witch placed a single finger over Rio’s lips before kissing them, swallowing whatever pleas for more she had. The momentum of her fingers gradually picking up as warm tongues dance over each other. Rio's hand clenched into Agatha’s shirt, desperate to have her closer, to feel her warmth. The tree behind them beginning to brim with life, with more and more leaves sprouting as Rio’s pleasure was built higher and higher.

If there was anything that Agatha knew how to do - and do it well - was to coax that deep hidden fire inside of her past lover. To spark vitality within the cold hands of Death and build it anew. With each sweep of her tongue, every pump of her fingers, as she thrusted them deeper into Rio’s dripping core and forced her ecstasy to unbridled lengths. It was insistent - unrelenting. Like a wildfire that threatened to take over and burn down everything in its path.

Rio widened her legs further - eagerly - frantic to feel as much as Agatha inside of her as she could. A loud moan that seemed into the witch’s lips as Agatha slipped a fourth finger inside of her, stretching her with expertise. The pleasured heat was enough to will a warm arousal across her body. It was enough to have her legs trembling and her back arched almost completely off the tree. A tree that was now vibrant with life, breathing with color amongst a wintery backdrop of death.

Agatha only chuckled and sped up her fingers. In and out. Faster and faster. Grinning with satisfaction as Rio’s walls began to tremor around her hand.

“Just look at the all-powerful Death. All needy for me. Dying to come.”

Rio cursed under her breath as Agatha laughed at her own joke, her hips beginning to buck. Her normally fair skin covered in a deep flush as her fingernails dug into Agatha’s arm. The fire that now encompassed her body was relentless - unyielding - washing over her in a prickling heat that moved from the top of her and ended at her toes. As a final move Agatha circled her thumb over Rio’s clit, matching it with a thrust and made her whole body convulse. Flowers now blooming all around her, a shimmer of green sparking in crisp night air as Rio’s climax wholly took her over.

The last thing Agatha heard was her name screamed out through half bitten lips before Rio’s knees buckled out from under her, dropping her limp body into her ex lover’s arms.

“You alright there, Reap?” The witch asked with a smirk.

“Fuck-” Rio shuddered, the entirety of her practically steaming from the overwhelmth of energy.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Agatha chuckled, still holding the dark haired woman up against the tree. Rio took a deep breath before raising her head, but even with a dusting of pink still painting her cheeks she smirked.

“Heh. Just gave a whole new meaning to having ‘death come for you’.”

Agatha groaned at the terrible pun but Rio only grinned, her tongue circling over the inside of her cheek.

“And just how long have you been waiting to use that one?” The witch asked as she shook her head and moved back from tree, releasing her hold on Rio.

“Only a few decades.” She replied.

“Uh huh.”

Agatha laughed again, a soft crinkle to the corner of her eyes as she did. Her gaze shifted as Rio took a step forward, her dark eyes on Agatha.

“Got something on your mind, Reap?”

Another step forward.

“Maybe.”

Agatha swallowed, a subtle prickling at the back of her neck.

Another step.

“Care to share with the class then?” She asked, voice slightly more tentative than the last.

Rio took a final step forward and gave Agatha a smirk. Then dropped down to her knees in front of the witch, the grass beneath her immediately turning green with life.

“That answer your question?”

“Maybe.” Agatha replied, an all too knowing smirk curling at her lips as Rio lifted her skirt and pulled her closer. The scent of her arousal prominent, heady, with a musk that was so intoxicating Rio could all but lick her lips.

“Now who's all needy? Huh?”

Agatha scowled before attempting to pull away, but the reaper’s grasp was strong and kept the witch in place - exactly where she wanted to be.

“Nice try, but I can smell how bad you want this, sweetheart.” Rio smirked. Her fingers lightly grazing up the side of Agatha’s thigh as she inched closer to the hem of her underwear. Underwear that was promptly soaked through and begging to be ripped off.

Rio licked her lips and fell back upon her knees, allowing herself to take in the view. The amount of years that had passed since she was last gifted such a sight were long since gone and lost to ages. Even her deepest dreams had paled in comparison, when all she had was the comfort of her own hands and the dark of night to keep her company. She took a deep breath, breathing her in.

Which it was.

Quickly and without pause. Her arousal now shimmering in the cold moonlight.

“Well, don't just stare at it, Reap. Eat it.”

The dark haired woman looked up at her past lover to find a smug smirk across the woman’s face. Oh, to have sweet Death on their knees for you. To will them into submission and gaze upon their absolute beauty. Her hand came to the back of Rio’s head, long fingers coming to guide her mouth closer, legs parting a little wider still. Rio’s breath hitched as she leaned in, permitting Agatha's hand to lead her. The reaper’s arms coming to wrap firmly around Agatha's hips and ass, with the fabric of her skirt held back in place.

A soft kiss to her clit at first before allowing her tongue to circle over it, causing Agatha to gasp. She tasted just as divine as Rio remembered. Just as sweet, with the slightest hint of sweat. Salty in all the right places, delectable. Her soft folds were absolutely wet - dripping - glistening throughout the tousle of brown hair that covered them. She traced her tongue up the slit of her and moaned, feeling Agatha’s desire all over her mouth and chin as the witch pulled her in even closer.

“Mmm-” Agatha moaned, “Rio-”

The intoxicating sound of Death’s name falling from Agatha's lips had her almost at a frenzy. Her fingernails digging into Agatha’s backside as she elongated her tongue deeply into her core. Her mouth warm - inviting - stroking that burning fire inside of Agatha higher and higher.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Long fingers tangled into a mess of dark hair, hips grinding upwards. The witch's needy moans ringing out into the night like a ballad of lust. Of need. Of the absolute desire to have no one else but Rio.

“Don't.. don't stop.”

But Death.

But life.

The humming of it vibrating within her as she rode the reaper’s face.

As if Rio had any intentions to do so, in fact she only persisted. Mercilessly and with fervor. As her tongue alternated between thrusting deep inside Agatha's core and circling over her clit. Deep, long licks up and down her opening, subtle sucks across her clit. Death showed no mercy as she lapped up the witch’s essence.

A tiny buck to Agatha’s hips and a clench to her walls and Rio pulled her even closer, forcing the length of her tongue as deep inside of her as she could go.

“F-uck-”

Agatha’s body jerked forward as her hold on Rio's hair tightened. Her hips now frantic - desperate - grinding into the woman’s face with absolute need. Rio flattened her tongue against Agatha's clit and rocked her head to the movement with the witch's hips. A few long strokes of her tongue and Agatha screamed out, her body suddenly overcome with a prickling heat. It was feverish. All enveloping. With her eyes whitened over in fireworks and her whole body convulsing.

The orgasm that took her over was violent in nature. It was raw and unhindered. It stole the stars straight from the night sky and injected them directly into Agatha’s very being. Her legs trembled while Rio held her close, her tongue only stopping once the last drop of Agatha’s arousal finally dripped into her mouth.

“Mmmm.” The reaper hummed, “Someone needed that.”

Even with the waves of aftershock still rolling throughout her body, Agatha's hand came firmly around Rio's throat as she pulled the dark haired woman to her feet. The look of surprise on Rio's face was quickly replaced with softness as Agatha’s lips pressed warmly into hers. Kissing her as if she were the last woman on Earth. The only woman. And to Agatha, she was. Their bodies a tangled mess, kissing each other with such ferocity that the whole world around them threatened to break. And when their lips finally parted, with the witch’s scent now adorning both of their faces, Agatha rested her forehead against Rio’s and sighed.

“Sometimes I wish it could always be like this.” She whispered.

“It can-”

Agatha placed a single finger against the reaper's lips and shook her head, the glisten of unspent tears in her eyes.

“You know it can't.”

“We could try.”

“We have.”

Rio sighed and leaned back into her past lover’s arms, head heavy. She knew Agatha was right. That these rare moments were like passing galaxies in the universe of life, but it still broke what little heart she had left to admit it. She sniffled once before clearing her throat, hugging the witch a final time before completely pulling back.

“So, uh.. what was so important that you had to resort to grave robbery again?” She asked, straightening out her clothes and hair as she wiped away a few tears of her own.

Agatha snorted and lowered her skirt. “It's not that important.”

“Bullshit. Just tell me.”

The witch bit her bottom lip in consideration before shrugging.

“A talisman. One that Cynthia coveted her entire life.”

“Okay. And what does this talisman do?”

Agatha’s gaze shifted around the quiet cemetery, the promise of dusk now painting the skyline. Her fingers fidgeted, knowing she had no other options than to tell her. She exhaled.

“Spectral reawakening.”

Rio’s dark eyes studied for her a minute, her finger coming to tap at her chin.

“I see.”

“It won't upset your precious balance of life, if that's what you're worried about.” The witch scoffed. “Only grants a day with the spectral form of a.. lost loved one.”

Rio knew immediately who Agatha intended to use the talisman on, and again, her heart ached.

“And you're planning to bring back Nicky, I presume?”

Agatha only nodded, her eyes growing desperate.

“I need to see him, Rio. I need to tell him-” She took a deep breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I need him to know how sorry I am.”

Rio knew all too well the grief that Agatha had felt over losing their son. And she knew she was partly to blame. Even if she gave the two as much time as she possibly could, she still couldn't help but feel responsible. She swallowed deep before nodding.

“Alright, then.” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Let's go get you that talisman.”

“Wait, what-?”

Before Agatha could even finish Rio was walking back over to the dug up grave, the slick marble casket peeking out from underneath the dirt. She looked back and gave Agatha a single wink before turning back around. With a simple blast of green and black magic the casket cracked open, the scent of death becoming ever more prevalent in the air.

Agatha came to stand beside her past lover, eyes wide.

“Rio.. what? Why?”

The dark haired woman turned and took the witch’s hand in hers.

“Just tell Nicky I said hello, yeah?”

Those were the last words she uttered before Death disappeared into the night, leaving Agatha with nothing but a cold graveyard to comfort her and the everlasting gift of getting to see her beloved Nicky again.

[neverpathia]

well, not for lack of trying

here's Barbie-fied long quiet. jk that's the voice of the smitten

and lineart because I always

dude I don't even swing that way but handsome men are the most frequent thing I've been posting on this blog thus far. I need to do something about that.

now, as always, time to ramble about this little guy

well literally any post about happily ever after will give you a pretty clear picture of his mentality. Smitty is a simp. push him too far and he'll go either enabler or yandere on you.

one thing is clear, though.

this guy is fucking delusional.

he falls in love with a princess he barely even knows. (no shit, Sherlock!) he falls in love with, well literally any iteration of the princess, really. (wow. what laudable powers of deductive reasoning. I am awed beyond words.)

well a pretty obvious thing about slay the princess is that it's quite a desperate situation. the long quiet is stressed and needs to cope. so the voices form to help, or at least act like perfectly unhelpful defense mechanisms. and smitten is one of those very perfectly-unhelpful-defense-mechanisms.

the smitten is still inherently superficial. i forgot where, but I once heard someone say that smitten is the part of the long quiet that still intrinsically yearns to reunite with the shifting mound. that could be the case. either way, the smitten is certainly the voice that cares the most about the mound. he's the one that's most aligned with her desires, or at least he believes he is.

however, I feel like it's more general than that. the smitten, above all, is the desire for connection.

but unlike the broken, he doesn't exactly offer 'unconditional' devotion. of course he wants safety. (no shit they all want safety have you seen the stakes of their fucking circumstances lately?) and of course he wants some control over the situation.

but friendly reminder that the smitten is fucking delusional. he want it? he got it.

the smitten is blind devotion, yes, but to a beneficial cause. the princess more often than not proves more trustworthy than the narrator (not to mention she's clearly more physically attractive like damn look at those big doe eyes she's so cute come on what's not to love. unless she's a mass of razor blades or a faceless abomination but we'll get to those later.)

shady man versus pretty princess. when forced to pick a side, it's initially pretty obvious who seems like the better, more heroic choice. she tugs at your heartstrings. she's just adorable, of course you feel attracted to her. and of course you're going to perceive a greater implied benefit from assisting her, especially compared to shady-man's vague threats.

he wants safety. he wants control, not necessarily over the princess or anyone exactly, but especially over this stressful inescapable scenario he's in. he wants to be free. he wants to have a purpose. and the best source of it all still seems to be the princess herself.

because (the smitten is delusional) they're in love and she would never hurt him. because (the smitten is delusional) she only wants to make him happy.

no, the smitten is delusional due to what the idea of true love offers. (keep in mind: it's not like the broken's submission for the sake of safety. he's still trapped and he knows it, but to broken it's more like he's choosing torture over worse torture.)

the smitten seeks both protection and agency. love is the easiest escape. and this is why even when faced with, say, some terrifying hulking monstrous being that's only vaguely feminine, he tries at love. he clings to love. if he refuses to see anything else, then he can be safe and free and happy. if he's delusional then the reality beyond his little delusion doesn't need to exist. sound familiar? no, narrator, get the hell away.

the smitten requires the idea of love, the idea of affection, the idea of what true romantic connection is.

he's locked himself into believing this is the only way for him to get what he wants, even when all else doesn't align with this. he's locked himself into believing love is the only thing that will always matter and remain constant. because he is delusional.

because he needs to be delusional.

oh I love the little lovesick fucker and his fancy little words

now I don't think a lot of thought really went into his design. I just thought "oh he speaks like a Victorian writer and he's kind of a dandy" and went from there. honestly I kind of modelled him off a preexisting OC of mine and changed up the details and colour palette a bit. he kind of looks like a drag queen but if I'm going to be honest that's not a bad thing on him.

he and the broken are probably going to be the most feminine of my voices, and not just because they give themselves to love, which is always seen as a more 'feminine' concept. no, it's more like they're the voices that emotionally cling the most to the princess. just as they once were one, they yearn to be one again. even if it means casting aside what they were meant to be. even if it means giving themselves up for the sake of another. the long quiet is inherently masculine and it's everything the shifting mound is not. so the voices that most oppose the mound are going to be more masc, ceterus paribus. does that make sense?

also he was supposed to be the hottest voice

why is oppy still the hottest voice

[billysgirllol]

“i did have a dolly, her hair was made out of yarn cause of course there wasn’t any means for a real doll even if we wanted one. it was one of the things that got left behind when our covey got pushed out of our last home by peacekeepers. all i have left of childhood toys is my mama’s bear she made for me, over yonder. sittin’ on the bed with a missin’ arm. reva blue the rainbow bear, or probably should be rainy bear now since she must not feel so fun anymore with no arm.” lucy gray frowns, “reva blue is her birth name, though. reva means rain and blue because rainbows start in bluer skies after the rain.” giving a little explanation, the bear is light brown with quilted rainbow ruffles sewed into her waist with a purple heart sewn onto her left foot, a yellow heart sewn into her right foot. her rainbow skirt is in better shape than hers, even if she’s took some wear and tear of her own with that missing arm. lucy gray thinks how she feels a lot like that bear, still trying to be colorful in these conditions because that’s the type of person she was born by heart as — staying relentlessly optimistic, but slowly officially losing her light. wearing her rainbow but becoming torn apart. “nice knowin’ how terribly biased an’ judgmental she is.” really— she’s shocked why coriolanus was even enamored by her for a few seconds. or how. since, she would figure he’s exactly like his grandma’am. thinks anyone other than capitol is the only worthy people in his mind. her mind is puzzled he could find anything attractive about her at all, since she feels like she should have been horribly ugly to him. how could he fake starry eyes and exchange kisses with her if he thought she was gross? but she should have been gross to him so her mind is burning trying to understand him even more. “of course. but one passed when i was younger and then the other i had that was livin’…i’m not sure anymore. we moved so often, but mamaw couldn’t just pick up and leave, so she stayed. i’m not sure if she somehow still might be there or she got rooted out too. or somethin’ else.” she could have died by now, that was a few years ago now. either way, the loss of so many family members weighs down heavily never knowing their fates. “well, that’s how people get you vulnerable. they pretend to fix things an’ be nice, but they can have killer motives behind it all.” lucy gray points out, placing the knife down on the bed while other hand is pulling loose the strings on her corset. “that’s interestin’.” thinking out loud, meaning his new name. william henry bonney. opening the door on the closet filled with pans and other miscellaneous things, she uses it as a cover. tugging the corset off, her long sleeve and then the ruffly multi colored skirt— throwing each of the pieces onto the bed. her hands dip down in her bag and pull out a soft lavender colored skirt and a white long sleeve with floral and butterflies on the front of the collar where it ties in the front and a tiny bow hangs down. wobbly legs step into the light purple skirt, feeling dangerously lightheaded before tugging on the shirt. closing the closet door back, she leaves her arms hanging out of the shirt, sleeves loosely hanging at her sides.

billy… brows creased at the familiarity. did he or dr gaul purposely choose the name billy to be even more twisted? she’s staring over at him like he fully offended her alone just by his name: billy. of course he offends her, because he must have remembered billy taupe. “there’s a scrape on my shoulder from tree limbs getting a hold of me takin’ it’s time healin’. and then there’s one like it on my leg, from scrapin’ it on a rock.” reluctantly sitting back down in front of him with that same scowl still on her face as she keeps dwelling on this name billy, there are scatters of bruises and cuts on her shoulders now that they’re bare not just the one she’s sugar coating on her left shoulder just because it’s a little more significantly different in size. the biggest though, is on on the inside of her upper leg where her knees meet. the second one that’s actually getting potential to set up for infection. moving her skirt until it’s bunched up in her lap, revealing the icky red scrape on her left leg starting above her knee and ending somewhere down the inner part of her upper leg.

“right.” because he’s not somehow coriolanus himself, mhm. if he was the type of person to play dolls with their bigger cousin or sibling, then he’d be an entirely different person. “if you’re somehow not coriolanus… then yes, coriolanus, you mentioned havin’ a sibling once. right before the games, you told me when we were learnin’ about each other.” lucy gray answers, helping lifting her foot up. this isn’t very coriolanus either… helping her like this. once, he did— when he used to wipe her tears and he used to call her his sweet. but all of that could’ve and must’ve been just a game. and this nice act— doesn’t mean dr. gaul couldn’t programmed him to make him nicer just to get her to fall for his trap. “good question.” on how to really believe he’s his own very different person. “probably so, since she definitely didn’t like me.” and the reminder of his mother is terribly sad, but it’s no excuse for him turning out callous and a murderer like he has. “we’ll see, if you ain’t tryin’ to kill me then maybe you aren’t him.” even if so, he could be waiting for the perfect time to retry it all over again. “what’s your name then?” questioning as she shows a little sign of discomfort at the blisters burning until they settle at the feeling of the medicine doing it’s job. her feet, once covered in socks, feel better than they have in a long time. “thanks…” whether he’s doing it genuinely or not, she’s still thankful for relief from the discomfort on her feet. “alright. i’ll get up now, first. change into a comfier skirt and shirt then i’ll show you the cuts.” it’ll be easier without all the ruffles in the way and her corset is restraining from pulling her sleeves down. scooting off the chair, she stands up and makes her way to picking up that skirt and shirt.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Okay so today I have been thinking about how John and Gale have sex (nothing new there but like the different way that they do)

Like they’re both men so they FUCK. They do it hard and rough and nasty and they both LOVE it. There’s nothing sweet or gentle about it. They love that it’s not like what it is with women and they don’t have to worry about being careful with the other or hurting the other. They can completely let go with the other with nothing holding them back. They also both love to be roughed up and pushed around and manhandled by the other and they take turns doing it to each other. Pushing the other down onto the bed and into the mattress, slamming the other up against the wall in a bruising kiss, etc. They’ve definitely broken a bed and some furniture and picture frames before for sure.

And then other times it’s so achingly sweet and gentle and loving and soft that there’s no other word for it other than love making despite how cheesy or corny that may sound. Taking their time with the other, going slow and spending time to focus on the other’s pleasure and making them feel good, to touch and worship and mark up and claim the other’s body, caressing and kissing and whispering sweet words of praise and telling the other how sexy and beautiful they are to them, how good they make them feel, how much they love their body and just love them in general.

And like we all agree that John has a filthy dirty mouth that does not stop running all throughout sex, and sometimes Gale matches his freak in this regard (he’s fully capable of it he just saves it for special moments to really make John lose it). But also when they’re making love, John will say the most profound declarations of love and devotion. Obviously praising Gale and telling him how wonderful and beautiful and perfect he is, but also things like how there isn’t anyone else for John but Gale, he’s never been so in love with anyone before like he is with Gale, never felt this way about anyone and never will with anyone else, how they and their bodies were made for one another, how John was made for Gale, how John belongs to Gale and is all his forever for as long as he will have him, his heart is his and will be his forever.

Whatever way they are having sex, it’s always intense and passionate, that aspect of it never changes.

And Gale can also be so sensual, so carnal, erotic, sultry that it takes John’s breath away. No one else he’s ever been with has been that way before. Like in one of my scenarios in my head, they first get together after the war and John shows up at Gale’s house shortly before his wedding to Marge confessing his feelings in a very dramatic and romantic fashion, they have a huge fight and Gale kicks him out, then Gale calls off the wedding with Marge and shows up at John’s doorstep in another very dramatic fashion, trying his best to tell John that he feels the same way about him but it’s very hard for Gale to talk about his feelings especially ones like this, but John gets the point and then they’re in his foyer kissing, and as it starts to get heated Gale pulls back and breathes “Take me to bed, John” and it’s the most sensual thing John has ever heard in his life. And then it only becomes more so once they’re in his bedroom and he’s on top of Gale on the bed and Gale looks up at him and says, “I want you to make love to me, John Egan”

I also was just thinking of a scenario where they are home after the war and they’ve gone through so much together, they’ve had a really rough go of things because of Marge and then both being men and whatnot and Gale refusing to give into his feelings for John but John refusing to give up on Gale no matter what, and Gale has been straight up mean and cruel to John because of it so many times at this point that he hates himself for it. And I think one night they’re sitting at a bar or something listening to a local musician play music and it’s a lot of sad slow songs about lost loves and Gale can’t handle it, sitting right next to John who looks so beautiful and he’s just so good, he’s so much better than Gale and Gale doesn’t deserve him and yet here he is still sitting right next to him after everything and still so sweet to Gale, always so sweet. Always calling him sweetheart and doll and always looking after him even when Gale is nothing but cold and mean in return. And suddenly Gale can’t handle it, he starts to tear up and he can’t start crying in front of John and everyone else there so he gets up abruptly without saying anything and goes outside for some air, and he starts to let the tears fall freely. But then he hears the door open behind him and he should have known John would be right behind him, wondering what’s wrong and worrying, because John is always looking after him. “Buck, are you okay?” He asks with so much care in his voice and Gale turns around and when John sees the tears running down his face he asks “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” And Gale just can’t keep so it anymore, he’s too weak, and he walks up to John and grabs and clings to his shirt, and just says “John” over and over again through his tears, hoping John understands him like he always does, that he’s apologizing for everything over the years, and John’s face softens from concern to tender affection and love and he says “It’s okay, Gale.” And that just makes Gale cry harder because he really does not deserve this man, he really doesn’t. And then he leans in and kisses John finally, and John leans in and kisses him back, and when Gale pulls back his face has a determined fiery look on it, so full of desire and want it almost takes John aback, and as he clings to John’s shirt like a lifeline he says, “Take me home, John. And then take me to bed.” And John leans in to kiss him once more and then responds, “Okay, Gale, yes, sweetheart.”

Yesss them getting to not only utilize their strength but to have the others strength used against them??? They're thriving 🙌 I am a firm believer that no furniture would be safe from them when they get into it!

But just like you said, they'd also absolutely melt at getting to bestow all of that love that other partners thought was "too much" onto someone that only loves it, but gives it back just as intensely ❤️

Ahhh and then the self-worth struggles... these boys are ripe with them despite all of their cockiness! Spot on!!!

Love hearing your thoughts and ideas about The Buckies ❤️❤️❤️

[wordvomit555]

I think that the most special thing about David Wymack is the fact that he not only gives people another chance, but also doesn't force them to do anything with it. There are so many characters out there who give a second chance and are disappointed if the person doesn't then raise to their full potential, but not Wymack. He will give you a chance and what you do with it is entirely up to you. And if you fuck up he will give you another one, and another one and not once will he make you feel guilty for fucking up again.

[princessmyriad]

.

[clementinebriar]

Graham says the duck thing again, and she almost checks out of the conversation right then and there. It’s only his explanation almost immediately afterward that gets her to stick around, though she does throw Graham a look of slight derision when he further insists his grandmother would like her. Guy probably doesn’t realize just how much he tends to get under people’s skin — thinks she’s starting to get under his, in fact, with her quip about Alec. It’s a fact of life, much like anything else is: the sky is blue, the grass is green, and eventually Clementine Wood gets hard to swallow. So she waves the notion off again, as she’d rather not be humiliated in front of someone the Lacrosse King talks about with such fucking reverence. “I’ll take a rain check,” she says, though doesn’t point out that the rain check will most likely never come. She won’t insult Graham’s intelligence — he could very well know she’s bullshitting him. But the fact remains she doesn’t really care, does she?

She’s especially bitter now that Graham tries to one-up her in terms of friendship with Alec — we go way back, he says, and Clem can do little else but scoff. “Yeah? So why’s he never mentioned you before?” she asks, voice posed as a challenge. “I’ve known him since we were in diapers, Oswald. He’s had plenty of opportunities to say something about you to me.” Alright, that’s unfair. Alec could very well have mentioned Graham at some point to Clementine — and it could have very well been during one of the times she’d tuned him out, which happened more often than not in high school.

But she’s not going to concede to that point — she’s stubborn, and a bitch, and it’s better Graham gets that now than before he wears her down enough to maybe actually get her to accept dinner with him and his grandma. Besides, she and Alec were practically thrust out of their mothers’ wombs inseparable — despite how much shit they give each other, Clementine doesn’t think there’s anyone she’d so readily go to bat for. “So if you’re just making shit up to take the heat off you, try something else,” she sniffs haughtily, taking the photo paper without much fanfare, balancing it against her hip as she gives Graham a long, skeptical once-over. 

Then the guy says sorry, and Clementine wants to pull her hair out. Can’t he just be a dick? It’d be much easier to end this conversation on a less culpable note if he could just stick to being some busy-body asshole who’s been wasting her time. Instead, he’s inviting her to dinner with his grandmother, apologizing for inadvertently insulting the most important person in her life, and still giving her free photo paper. Jesus Christ, Clem’s a fucking monster, comparatively. “Just—” she huffs, frustrated. “Whatever, it’s fine, could you just—” she waves her arms around, photo paper and all, gesturing wildly at the man in front of her. “I don’t know, call me a bitch or something? You’re freaking me out.”

"duck a l'orange," he repeated, as if that would make any difference. "it's roast duck with an orange glaze. a julia child original recipe that will blow your mind!" when clem made the point about graham's grandmother hating her, he couldn't help but laugh a little. nana dottie was a lot of things, but she was even less pretentious than him most of the time. in a lot of ways, she was proper based on old-fashioned notions of how she should act in public. behind closed doors, she was much more relaxed and, honestly, cooler than graham was. "i was just trying to be nice... it's been so long since we actually talked to one another, and my grandmother always says the best way to get to know someone is to share a meal with them," the look on his face could have won him a runner-up title for 'best dejected puppy-like pout.' "nana dottie would not hate you, trust me. i actually think that she'll have wished that she had a grandchild like you. i wouldn't be surprised if she invited you to thanksgiving dinner."

alec was his friend, too, and although it's childish graham couldn't help but feel a bit possessive. "alec and i are 'fucking nerds,' as you so politely put it, together. we go way back, clem," he staked his claim to poking jabs at their shared friend. it wasn't like graham had been such an asshole in high school that he hadn't spent time with kids outside of the jock and cheerleader crowd. he had gone to alec's shows and hung out when it was just the two of them. "i love the guy, i'm not just trying to piss on his intelligence. it was just a joke, okay? even alec laughed it off," he adjusted his tie to avoid saying anything else that might hurt them both. "look, i am sorry... i guess i got too excited about catching up, i didn't think about how talking about your friend might hurt you."

he followed her into the copy room, his attention directed towards a fresh ream of the photo paper she had come for in the first place. "right, sorry, i forgot," he sheepishly apologized for the third time in the past couple of minutes. "i'm happy to supply photo paper whenever you need to stop by city hall. no one really uses the stuff anymore, anyways. we mostly use regular printer paper." graham grabbed the brand spanking new ream, plus the already opened stack, and handed them to clem. "i'm sorry for all the hassle, hopefully this was worth the walk and talk," he added as the fourth in a long line of owed apologies.

[autisticlee]

more people need to acknowledge the fact that hard work, putting all your effort into things, and trying your best DOESNT GUARANTEE SUCCESS. more people need to accept and acknowledge that no everyone can succeed with purely their own effort! sometimes the only thing you get for your hard work and effort is getting burnt out. not everyone is capable of succeeding on their own without other people to help and boost them or pure "luck" and telling everyone they can't possibly fail if they are trying hard enough only hurts the people who genuinely do try and don't make it in the end. normalize hard work not paying off and failing with no success and not actually having a realistic way to succeed!

[classyrbf]

SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special

INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.

Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.

It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.

A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.

Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.

“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.

His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.

Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”

“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”

You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.

“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.

“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.

His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.

“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.

Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.

As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.

Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.

“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.

“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”

Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.

You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.

“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.

You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.

Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.

He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.

You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.

“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.

You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.

“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.

He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.

You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.

“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.

Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.

Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.

Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.

“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.

“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.

“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.

You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.

Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.

“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.

You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.

He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.

“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.

Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.

“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”